It is not yours to bear

I love a bit of telly costume drama on a Sunday night. It makes me feel comforted and warm like a fluffy dressing gown in front of the fire.
There's always plenty of old-fashioned values about helping out your neighbour, people really loving each other no matter what and some words of wisdom to bring tears to your eyes.
The words of wisdom offered up last Sunday have been reverberating with me all week. A recluse hides away in his grief refusing help. A woman tries to force help upon him. "I cannot bear your isolation," she says.
"It is not yours to bear," he says.
When H slips into his moods of fury and depression and locks himself into the world he is in at the moment - there is nothing I can do to reach him. And I cannot bear it. And he won't let me in to try and help. He doesn't let anyone in.
I know I have been difficult to cope with over this infertility business. I know it has obsessed me and made me very emotional at times. I know I have lost a lot of the joy he fell in love with me for.
But it is not all about me. He is using me as an excuse. His withdrawing is about him as much as me. Him not being able to cope, being confused, being scared, whatever. I still truely believe he wants to do IVF really, just wants to hide away and wait until he is ready and can cope.
But time is running out. My periods are getting worse and worse and I am convinced I am heading towards early menopause and I am terrified.
We are getting on so much better now, we are tender with each other and kind. There has even been a bit of laughter - of fun. Just so long as we don't mention the unmentionable.
I can't bring it up again yet. We are still learning to enjoy each other again as well as battling flu symptoms and the daily tiredness of life in winter. Forcing the issue again might send us reeling back to square one again. Especially if I inadvertedly pick the wrong time.
But the longer it is left dangling the lesser chance I have of ever having that longed for baby in my arms. And him. The lesser chance he has of being the wonderful dad I know he longs to be.
There are times when I just cannot bear it. And surely it is mine to bear too.