Reluctantly we surrendered and called in the big guns. The St Barts\u00a0fertility doctors performed every humiliatingly invasive procedure they could think of (plus a few more seemingly thrown in just for their own amusement), before 3 agonising rounds of IVF. Eventually they gave up on my flat-lining embryos with a sigh, visibly frustrated as they downed tools that my faulty Fallopians had messed up their 25% live birth rate success stats<\/p>\n

The decision to stop was far, far harder than the decision to start. Starting something, whilst scary as you step into the unknown, is accompanied by optimism, excitement, anticipation. Stopping is an admission of failure. It’s final.<\/p>\n

Henceforth followed the demise of my marriage – two painful years of gradual decline into the irretrievable abyss. Sadness, resentment, despair are not emotions conducive to a happy marriage, it turned out.
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\n“For better, for worse, in sickness and health, ’til death us do part….”<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

The words echoed around our empty big house until they became deafening and the walls began closing in. Tears flowing, we divided up the accumulated belongings of our 15 year union….and said goodbye.<\/p>\n

The following year was the worst of my life. I’d never lived alone before and suddenly here I was, 37 years old, single, sad, alone. My friends and family were very supportive, but everyone ultimately has their own busy lives to take care of and, like a baby (ironically), I had to learn to self-soothe.<\/p>\n

Somehow I’d been performing really well at work throughout and had recently been promoted to regional manager, responsible for running 18 London shops. Inside, though, I was dying. I recalled something I’d read, that ‘suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem’ and tried to tell myself that ‘this too shall pass.’<\/p>\n

Miraculously, after a tumultuous year of reckless self-wrecking, it did.<\/p>\n

I took the decision to resign from my draining management role and fled to Thailand for a month of reflection. The intention to sit navel-gazing in the sunshine, taking yoga lessons and finding inner peace didn’t quite materialise, however, as I soon reverted to type and hit the Full Moon Party (Full Moon, Half Moon, Black Moon, I wasn’t fussy) but slowly, once the aftermath of the Sangsom buckets had worn off, I started to feel better..<\/p>\n

Little by little, with each gradual change in the colour of my skin came a subtle change on the inside too. It was like the sun was warming my soul as well as my bones.<\/p>\n

Without wanting to sound too hippy-dippy, I would say I experienced an epiphany, alone on those beaches sipping cocktails and seeing the most breathtaking scenery. I became aware of both my tiny insignificance in the great scheme of things as well as the enormity of the importance of my outlook.<\/p>\n

Gradually, my bitterness faded, my great sense of loss and injustice subtly being replaced with….well, gratitude I guess.<\/p>\n

I started to see my situation differently. Before, when well-meaning mates had pointed out all the good things in my life in a vain attempt to make me realise how lucky I was, I would angrily shut them down. It dawned on my that only when you are ready to start to open up and see the world through grateful eyes can you truly start to move on.<\/p>\n

I re-watched The Secret, which if you don’t already know, is a self-help film (and book) which works on the law of attraction, the theory being that positive thinking can create life-changing improvements in health, wealth and happiness.<\/p>\n

I started to actually believe that things would be ok. And they were.<\/p>\n

Today I have finally moved on.<\/p>\n

To quote Elsa from THAT Disney movie, I’ve ‘Let It Go.’
\n(One perk of not having kids is that I’ve never had to sit through that bloody film, for a start!)<\/p>\n

And there are lots of other perks, it turns out. I can go out on a bender on a whim, buy whatever I like without even the most fleeting feeling of guilt, and the house that once felt eerily silent is now a peaceful haven that I share with my partner, Andy – a fun-loving fella who I jokingly refer to as ‘the child I never had.’<\/p>\n

So if life is getting you down and you feel like there’s no way out of a particular situation, I’m here to tell you that whilst the situation may not change (infertility for example, is pretty permanent), your attitude to it can.<\/p>\n

There’s nothing worse than someone else preaching about positivity if you’re feeling down so I won’t prattle on any further, but keep in mind that when you’re ready the world will tilt on its axis and your entire perception of it will change. Then you will truly know that you can find peace and be happy.<\/p>\n

Let It Go.<\/b>
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