It's hard to be light hearted when you feel as if you have a lead weight in your chest.

Ray left this morning to paint a house and I ended up wailing on the bathroom floor. Not because he left; I'm glad he didn't see one more meltdown, he's seen enough. Wailing because I felt so sad. Too sad. I never realised exactly how much I wanted to be a mother until we lost our son. We always said "wouldn't it be nice if..." It was as if I felt all of the sadness of the last 10 months all in an instant. And it floored me.

I'm sick and tired of wanting. Remember when you were a kid and all the cool kids had that thing that was amazing and incredible and for a while it was the most important thing in the whole wide impossible uncontrollable world and nothing else would do and you begged and pleaded and bargained for it? That powerless powerful want. You know that want don't you, unless of course you were one of those cool kids that got everything first and best, in which case pffttthhht! (Not pffthhht at those of you that have that wonderful thing now of course.)

You see my period started yesterday. I thought it was due on tuesday because I thought I ovulated earlier, the peesticks told me so and I felt the usual twinge, I'm sure I did. Maybe I ovulated twice, maybe I need peesticks that are less sensitive, maybe it was a bad egg. So I hoped for three days. In fact entirely foolishly hoped, because the oh-shit-my-period-is-coming-fuck cramps started four days ago which seems to be my new normal these days so there shouldn't really have been any room for hope. Once again I am as regular as clockwork, cd 27. I suppose I should be comforted by that. I suppose.

So yeah, optimism shmoptimism indeed.

And just to let the universe know, I'm taking a break this next cycle. No, no, I am not giving up but right now I am too tired. I hereby declare: No peeing anywhere other than directly into the toilet. No counting the days. No trying and no symptom sorting. Just being. Just breathing. I want to offer up my next turn to Danielle, to Rachel, to Monique, to Bir and to anyone else out there trying and wanting. Fertility and conception vibes to be directed their way please.

Right now I'm tucking into a bag of pick-and-mix sweets. Too much sugar, too many calories, too much soursweet. I'm going to feel sick when I've finished but right now I don't care. I feel entirely 8 years old and powerless. I might even stamp my feet.

I'm going to pull myself together soon, find some heartburn medication and then get on with some jewellery orders.