On the NHS and fairness

I have to say I laughed in irony at the incredibly sweet comments some of you left about the NHS on our last post. I WISH the NHS would write to us and say “Of course, we’ll pay for your IVF drugs, and while we’re at it, have your £12k back! No problem.” but, as you probably know anyway, it totally doesn’t work like that.

The NHS, while it has its positives – like being able to, say, break your limbs or come down with some kind of illness for free – is famously cash strapped. So, no matter how much of our taxes we throw at it, it “can’t” always fund what we want it to. And when it does say it will fund things, sometimes you have to wait a long time… like the SIX YEARS someone told us they were expected to wait for IVF! And that was a heterosexual. Woo! So, like many other TTC Brits, we are biting our lips and just going private. Anything the NHS decides to cough up, however small, is something of a bonus.

Are we bitter? Of course! I’ve worked and paid taxes ever since I left university, and it doesn’t feel fair. But life isn’t fair, we all know that.

So anyway, in classic unfairness – now, that isn’t very fair of me, is it? – we’re going to visit our surprise niece on Saturday. It’s a four hour drive, straight after the clinic. While the clinic visit signals (or should signal) the start of our IVF, I don’t feel very joyful about either thing. OK. I’m dreading it. And wishing I didn’t feel like such a bad person.

[Whatever happened to me? At which point did I become this person who is incapable of seeing happiness in places where happiness is meant to be, and who feels screwed up inside about so many things she didnt even know existed? Maybe I always felt this way but just didn’t know it; maybe I always was a TTCer inside, waiting to burst out in a twisted, hormonal mess. Whatever.]

But as vee says, it’ll be fine in the end. We’ll get it over with and then it’ll be done. We’ll smile and give them our gift and listen for a while to their excited postnatal chatter and PRAY they don’t cock their heads slightly and look sympathetic and tell us “but they understand” about our situation. Because they don’t and they never will.

And we’ll see the baby and wonder why we felt screwed in the first place, because, well, how can anyone resist a baby?!

Sigh. Like I said, life ain’t fair.

jay xx


7 responses to this post.

  1. it is true. life isn’t fair. If I had some magic I would send it your way. I think you both are doing a wonderful job of keeping the happiness flowing. SO if today is a bad day – then let it be.


  2. Life isn’t fair. Try not to question it with all they “why’s” it will only make it harder. I’m so sorry 😦


  3. Life isn’t fair. Don’t feel guilty for the way you feel about others pregnancies and babies. This IF stuff is really hard on a couple of gals that want to be moms. You don’t need the added guilt of second-guessing how you’re feeling.

    Have a safe drive, and enjoy (if you want to) your new niece! I am holding much hope in my heart for this IVF cycle.

    Thinking of you ladies-


  4. Posted by reproducinggenius on April 10, 2008 at 6:11 pm

    You’re right: life is not fair. It isn’t fair at all, and so many of us around these parts understand this very deeply. I hope that all of this comes through for you. I’ll be keeping you in my thoughts.


  5. When I was little my mom used to always say “You should know now that life is not fair” – I hate to say it but she was absolutely right. It just is not. I like you should allow yourself to feel all these feelings – don’t feel guilty this is legitimately unfair. Tons of thoughts to you guys.


  6. Bleh. I’m sorry. May the clinic and the family visit be easy and my the drive home be short.


  7. Posted by yup, another sara on April 13, 2008 at 3:46 am

    I really related to the middle of this post. Lately I have just been feeling as though I HATE everyone pregnant or with a baby (unless I happen to know that the person/couple tried for a long time, dealt with infertility, had a miscarriage, etc). I have these thoughts and wonder about who I have become (or, as you say, maybe who I always have been). But it is so hard to want so much and try so hard and watch those around you receive and receive, sometimes effortlessly.


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