I Wish I Felt Normal Every Day

I’ve never felt like I was entitled to anything in life, I’ve always believed that if I wanted something that seemed out of reach, I could work hard and get it. When I wanted to become a nurse I knew it meant moving away from home, leaving the comfort of my family and friends, so I did it.

When I wanted to work at the best Children’s Hospital in the country, I packed my bags, put my measly belongings into the back of the car and drove across state lines to start a new life in Melbourne. Far away from anyone I knew and loved, and into a new job, new city and new people.

When I wanted a relationship built on trust and loyalty, and I knew that’s not what I had at the time I packed my bags, grabbed my dog and left a six year relationship with a man I had grown up with behind and moved into a tiny little one bedroom apartment all alone.

I know that if I work hard at something, push myself to the limits and keep going even when I don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, I will eventually get to where I want to be. I know that everything happens for a reason, despite often not knowing what that reason is at the time. I know now that leaving home at a young age to study and moving to a different state for a job has meant that almost nine years later I am still working there and have met some of the most incredible life lasting friendships throughout my time at work. I know now that leaving that disaster of a relationship despite at the time it being the hardest thing I had ever done meant that I would learn that I am enough, I am worthy of loyalty and that I would never settle again. It meant that when I did meet the man I will spend the rest of my life with I knew instantly he was the man for me.

I had no sense of entitlement. Until now. Now I do.

I believe that I am entitled to have my body do what every woman’s body is born to do. Have a baby. So why when I have worked so damn hard, literally worked my ovaries off, worked every day at making my body do what I think it should, why won’t it? There are days when I feel such intense anger at my body that I literally yell at it. There are days that I feel hate towards my body for putting me through this, for making me have to work so god damn hard for something I want so desperately. There are days that I look at other women who are pregnant and feel annoyed by their presence in my life, and then feel instantly bad for feeling like that because it’s not fair to feel like that about something so special happening for them. But I do sometimes. There are days when I feel such tremendous sadness that I can’t leave the house, I stay inside all day and wallow. Only some days, and I never tell anyone that I’ve done it because then they feel bad for me so I always so ‘oh I’m ok, we’ll get there’ but will we? Some days I feel so empowered, so strong and so proud of myself that I want to pat myself on the back and high five myself for standing up and taking each step in this rollercoaster of a journey. And then there are some days, like today that I just feel like a normal person, a regular girl with a great partner, cute dog and fantastic family and friends and I wish every day I could just feel like a normal person.