I have been told many times and in many ways that a friend or relative is expecting a child. It might be by email, a text or a letter. Rarely these days is it face to face or by 'phone. I'm not sure what is better. In person or with vocal contact makes the reaction so hard to manage. Usually all I can say is 'congrats' with a tight smile before having to compose myself in a lonely dark corner, cursing my lack of manners. If it's a written communication, that makes me feel like a bringer of doom and the expectant parent come across as cowardly. Hardly surprising, when I consider roll reversals.

Either way, there is an awful guttural pull. The heart sinking plummet and the butterflies of fear. At least that is my best description. And I was trying to explain all this when I was talking to my own mum. She rang to see how I was in response to a pregnancy announcement in our immediate family. I'm usually good with words but I failed to find anything that articulated why I had this sensation. It wasn't jealousy. I have no need to wish what I have been through (endless IVF and no pregnancy) on anyone. Neither was it that I wanted what our relatives had, for I do think that if I was to find myself pregnant as 50 becomes closer than 40, I would panic. But perhaps a wishful thought that it's another friend who will become centred on her child, an act that bonds her more to my aunt, my grandmother and my own mother because she will now have those highs and lows that bond parents with other parents. I cry for that and the loss of my baby.

I have no positive as such in these early days of adjustment, in the fragile time when I am trying to locate the strength in my soul to re-balance my emotions as life goes off kilter again and doubtless those fears will resurface when the baby is born.

I will, I am sure, dust myself down and throw myself into something that gives me hope and pray and look for coping mechanisms that I can come back and share with this website.