You are heartbroken. You live with fear, disappointment, frustration and questions (so many questions) every day.
And I don't know how to help.
I don't even know what to say to you. The telephone, which should be a happy wonder of technology, turns into my nemesis when I think about calling you.
You see, I'm scared to call you. I'm scared of my lack of any kind of knowledge or advice or experience that might be able to ease your suffering. I'm scared to disappoint you.
And yet by keeping my distance I disappoint you anyway.
You can't have a baby naturally. You, and your lovely husband, are going through week upon week, month upon month of agony wondering whether this time's cycle will be successful.
And when it does work, as it has a couple of times in recent months, you then live in fear of losing that hope and having to start again.
I really cannot imagine how you must feel. I want to reach out to you but my words, my actions, my presence can only linger around, useless in their efforts to bolster your flagging determination.
I despair at my short fallings as a friend. I remember the support, love and ever-present shoulder on which to cry when I split from my first husband. You dropped your life to be by my side, to scoop me up from my depths and ply me with much needed tea and sympathy.
Now you're in your own depths and I have no idea what to say to you, much less how to help.
How can I repay you for your kindness? Why can't I find the words to help you in your hours of need? What can I do to help you?
I think of you constantly and want only the best for you. I reach out as often as I can to let you know I'm here. I only wish I could do more.
Your friend, helplessly
PMB x
