When you can’t walk your “therapy dog” and life is sh*t

A Personal Reflection

On December 24th we tested and IVF wasn’t successful. The sadness and grief came in tidal waves.

On December 28th I was walking down the stairs, I thought I was at the bottom of the steps, but I wasn’t. What followed was possibly the most physically excruciating pain of my life.

I was now in emotional pain and physical pain for different reasons.

I’m not sure that is allowed, it must be against some type of human decency act of some sort.

As the weeks went by, and my mobility remained restricted, my mental health was spiraling.

Plus, it was January, the longest and darkest month of the year if you live in the Northern Hemisphere.

I was being hit from all directions.

I’ve never considered myself an active person, I’m not a coordinated sporty person but I am most definitely a person who can’t sit still.

Movement truly is my medicine and my medicine was cut off.

My usual coping strategies for managing emotional discomfort weren’t available. I couldn’t:

• Take myself for a walk in the fields;

• Take the dog out and chat with the passing pawents;

• Move in the big ways I like to on my yoga mat;

• Get to a massage session;

• Take myself out for a coffee and ice-cream;

• Meet up with friends easily - crutches in wet weather and train stations are not a good combination, I tried once and decided not to do it again;

• Go to the supermarket on my own;

• The list goes on…

I had to deploy new strategies. 

A lot of those required the support & help of others.

And, like most other proud independent people, it wasn’t easy.

Instead of my usual “feel better” strategies above, I:

• Reached out to friends asking them to meet at mine or close by;

• I called friends more to debrief and share what I was feeling;

• There was lots of icing and elevation of my ankle to reduce the swelling/ physical pain;

• Had a counseling session with the IVF support team;

• My husband provided nurturing and care when I spent a weekend in bed and didn’t want to get out;

• I snuggled with the doggo as I lay on the couch since I wasn’t able to walk him;

• I cooked up thick porridge because it’s soothing;

• I lived in my husband’s wooly socks and favourite hoody because they provided comfort;

• The most challenging thing… accepting that I was just sad and I couldn’t escape it.

There you have it, my recipe on how to get through the hard days.

I hope you’re having good days but if you’re struggling give some of the options above a go and see if they help you feel a little better.

Take care,

Kirsti x

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