The Childless Mother

Dealing with infertility and finding happiness

The Hoops We Have to Jump Through…..

Once upon a time there was a prince and princess. They fell in love and married in a wedding that would have made cinders jealous. Soon after they decided they wanted a baby, soon after that the test turned positive and so began the fairytale. Or maybe the next part that Disney doesn’t tell, the part about sleepless nights and dirty nappies but most of all the unconditional love felt by those parents.

In this version of family. All the parents had to do was fall in love, the rest happened naturally, quickly and without one single test or hick up.

For couples dealing with infertility this is pretty much the furthest version of their story. Sure it starts with falling in love, maybe even marriage and then waiting and waiting and fear and worry until we get to tests and more tests and heart break. It still doesn’t end.

For me to be deemed good enough to be a mother and for my husband to be a father we have to jump through hoops. First of all it’s a intrusive line of questioning about how often we have sex, how we have sex and if there are any issues when we do.

We had to fight to get an appointment to even be tested because of our age. 13 years later this makes me chuckle, ironically. How many doctors said we were young and it would happen in time.

We were able to receive one line of treatment that in the doctors words

“Wasn’t too expensive to try”

But then came the list of things that we had to not be doing or be doing in order to get further treatment.

My weight. I was six stone over the bmi they would accept. If we had smoked. It would have been no. If we had drank too frequently it would have been no. If we had sex less than a couple of times a week we would have been turned away until we had done that for a period of time even though it was proven that my ovulation wasn’t fully functional.

I am still so angry at these hoops. I am loosing the weight now, have never smoked and don’t drink. Boring huh? But it’s taken me so much time to loose this weight the longer it takes the angrier I get.

I know the collation between a healthy pregnancy and being within the healthy weight range. I understand that of cause. But it still pisses me off that we have to be judged by these standards as to if we would be good parents or not when simply having the natural function to do so qualifies everyone else to have a child no problem. To be forced into these tick boxes for someone to decide this huge thing for us based on a one size fits all approach. One size doesn’t fit all.

I know many women that would be over the bmi to have treatment. They have gone on to have healthy beautiful children and here’s the shocker. They are good parents 😱😱😱. Imagine that.

I don’t let the rage out very often now. Believe it or not I am in a good place but at the moment I am fighting to stay on track with my weight loss. Again I am battling my demons, demons we all have in various forms. But I wonder sometimes….. why is it fair I am judged on mine. Why does this get to be the deciding factor for me being a mother? That thought. That truth allows the rage to seep out.

If I had a penny for every time someone has basically asked;

“Well if you wanted a child you wouldn’t you just loose the weight?”

To have to go into how PCOS effects my body and it end up sounding like an excuse. For people to understand just how hard I have to fight as many others like me, to loose even one pound on those scales. If they knew that, they would never say such things to me.

I know a question we all ask while on this journey is “Why us?” Why do we have to be the one couple in eight? Why can we not have just had the Disney version of marriage and family.

It’s cruel to give a couple the instinct to want to have a family, a yearning that’s deep within you. To not allow it to happen. It’s even crueller to dangle the treatment and help but to make it difficult to achieve it. Making one of the hoops something that’s a symptom of the illness you have.

One woman’s rage wont change it. The criteria is what it is and I am getting there, I have three stone left to go. It doesn’t stop me from feeling that anger. Anger as those hoops we must jump through to get our baby.


Biological clock, Birthdays and Fertility Warriors

When we first started trying for children, it never occurred to me that I would be nearly forty and childfree.

As time ticked on I started to dread the turning of each year and the anxiety it brought so in all honesty, I run away from it. I pretend it isn’t happening and well, we take a vacation.

Tomorrow I am 37. I can’t believe that I am. My brain still tells me I am 16 and I am not adult enough to be dealing with this shit. But it’s true. There’s a twinge of sadness with each passing year that we seem to be further away from our dream of having a child. So you know what.


I’m not spending another year pining for what I can’t have I am going to enjoy what I do!!

I have finally gotten the motivation to loose some weight. 2stone 9 lbs gone and another 3 stone to go! But it’s coming off!

I still have an awesome marriage and he really is my best friend. Even if sometimes we want to murder each other. ….. that’s normal right?

I have a fab mother who’s always there for me even when I’m a grumpy pants.

The best friends.

Beautiful nieces and nephew. One brand new niece just born today ❤️❤️

Is my heartbroken? Sure! It always will be I think, but tomorrow for my birthday. I am taking the day off!! ( well not literally I am too busy at work 🙈🙈😂😂) but mentally!

I am going to celebrate the wonderful life we do have, start to plan our next holiday and generally be thankful for the fact I get another birthday when others aren’t so lucky.

So often we are wrapped up in the negatives of this journey. We batter ourself for what we can’t do. For what we feel is failure. When in fact we should be taking a frickin bow!! We are warriors. We earned our stripes not from the pregnant bellies we would give anything to have, but the slashes through our hearts.

We take disappointment and loss month after month and keep going. Even when we are at our lowest, we find a way to paint on a smile and continue because what other choice do we have?

Tomorrow I turn 37. I am still childless. I can’t change that, I can’t control it. So I’m not going to feel bad about it anymore! Here’s to a fun day 😃😃🎉

Walking In My Shoes – The Childless Mother

I know it’s impossible to know what’s going on behind anyone’s smile. People fight battles every day that their nearest and dearest know nothing about. If you are lucky, and I am. You have a support network in your partner, family and friends that will get you through the worst time. Even so it can feel lonely under this label that we stand, I am infertile. Me.

My husband stands with me as a couple we are childless and he suffers the ups and downs every bit as much as I do but the reality is, it’s me.

When a stranger looks at me they know nothing of our struggle to be parents, often when we meet someone new one of the first questions we are asked now we are in our mid-thirties is how many children do we have? My 13 years of training for these questions kicks in and we delicately tell these strangers, none for us we love to travel…..are too selfish…. It just didn’t happen for us. After all the awkward spluttering’s that follow telling the truth are just not worth it.

The world is obsessed with owning who you are at the moment, hundreds of tell all stories often with photographs telling you to be proud of who you are. Go You! I totally agree with this, be who you are and apologise to no one for it. So why can’t I get there myself? Admittedly talking about infertility and our losses is difficult. When I first picked up a pen to write down how I was feeling it was for me, when I openly shared one of the miscarriages we had online I did it because it felt like the only way to get the pain out.

I didn’t realise I was giving a voice to others in pain. My blog was born.

I receive many messages from both people trying to support their friends or family members through a loss or infertility as well as from the couples going through it. There is no one size fits all but there is a common theme to what those people walking in our shoes are saying.

Please, please don’t tell me its ok, don’t tell me things happen for a reason. My time may not come.

I wanted to try to articulate my experience to try and help others to know if they can help or offer comfort, not just with words. Sometimes just by being there. If you haven’t been through this it is hard to understand the ache that comes with wanting a child you can’t have, or finally getting that dream and it being ripped from you.

I wanted to be a mother, I knew that from a young age. Some may say that’s because the world expects it of me. I was born in the 80’s and still very much felt the right thing to do was get married and have children. I didn’t want that in the conventional sense, I wanted to travel, I wanted an equal to do that with but I knew I wanted a family.

I read somewhere that infertility is like the death of a dream. This is perfectly true. I imaged my life with a child, with my husband. This perfect little person that was half me and half the love of my life.

When we first started to try for children, excited and optimistic the picture starts to build in my imagination. You discuss names, nursery ideas, looks, schooling, and family values etc. Pretty soon you have an image in your head of what that little person would be like. For most couples the longing is brief and very quickly they get their bundle of joy and start to live their dream, all be it slightly sleep deprived but what they planned all the same.

For couples like us, over time the dream builds into to a knot in our stomach, a screaming question that neither of you really dares to speak out loud.

“Why isn’t it happening for us?”

It takes time to accept that you may need help, the longing grows and grows and takes route inside. It twists and pulls at your confidence. It whispers lies that make you feel less than, it tells you the worst things you may already be thinking. I’m not good enough to do this, I am failing.

The first steps into your doctor are hard to take, for a woman testing for problems is an intrusive and long process. Starting with blood tests and followed with internals and scans and painful procedures to see if you can indeed carry a child. I remember once someone telling me, be thankful you haven’t had any children yet, you lose all dignity. If she only knew. I probably had to bare my private parts many more times than she ever did to get her children and there was no beautiful reward for me at the end.

For my husband the tests were less intrusive but equally as embarrassing, especially as the specimen room was right next to the break room while nurses discussed their weight watchers soup. Not. Fun.

Finally we were diagnosed. It was me. I had PCOS.

I always knew it was me in some ways it was a relief that I wasn’t crazy, we had the reason but we had no baby either. A glimmer of hope starts to return at this point as you weigh the options up and discuss treatment options. The doctor talks about the next steps and you start to think….. Finally this might happen.

First step for us was Chlomid, an angry hormonal infusion of crazy lady that helps you to ovulate regularly. We were given six cycles and told to baby dance….. a lot.

Infertility is a pain emotionally and I would guess there would be some people that would say, wow lots of sex poor you it sounds awful. Anyone that has struggled to conceive will tell you, eventually it sucks the romance out of it. There is nothing romantic about a frantic race to the finish line, the pressure to get there and then acrobatics to get your hips into the air or maybe even a hand stand because you read somewhere that may help. It’s not pretty and eventually it stops being fun.

I agreed to take part in a study to help others with PCOS so had bloods done regularly. I was convinced that this was going to work I had a feeling. So month one, cycle one, we did everything right. The date of my scheduled monthly was approaching, my crazy brain convinced me I was experiencing every pregnancy symptom going, and I went to the bathroom a 100 times a day just to see if it was game over. I was two days late. Out came the pregnancy test.

I did it alone as at this point I didn’t want to disappoint my husband who kept telling me that he would be happy with or without children he just wanted me.

I sat in the bathroom what felt like an hour with a flashing test, my hands and feet cold with anticipation……. Then -: NOT PREGNANT. Game over for yet another month, almost 6 years of this at this point. The disappointment hits you like a blow to the stomach, fresh tears fill my eyes and I allow myself a brief moment of self-pity. Sadly I am by now a seasoned trier, so I know I must dust myself down and prepare to try again.

On we continued until month five. Month five was different. I didn’t seem to have as many side effects except a feeling of total exhaustion. I put that down to what we were putting ourselves through, we promised to take a break from everything if it didn’t work this month. Again I was waiting with the pregnancy test flashing in my hand, prepared for another negative…. Flash…flash…flash…PREGNANT! I dropped the test, immediately dug out the remaining two under our sink…. PREGNANT….. PREGNANT!! I couldn’t believe it. My heartbeat hammered in my chest, I felt a little dizzy. I sat back on the toilet.

I was terrified, I cried, I wondered how I would tell my husband. We had been here before and it had ended so badly that I decided to wait until my hospital appointment and blood tests. They were all confirmed, I told my husband that night. He was cautious and had a wait and see type attitude which annoyed me at first, but deep down I understood why.

A couple of weeks passed and we were booked in for an early scan, again I decided to go it alone. Looking back now I just think I was nuts but at the time it felt like it was my issue to deal with because it was me that was defective. I was convinced that my period was on her way.

At the scan, they found the sac but no heartbeat. Could be completely normal they said with the timing so they took some blood from me and arranged another scan for a week later. There was no need.

The cramps started through the night a few days later, the bleeding started soon after.

I don’t think I can fully explain the complete emptiness that follows a miscarriage. The helplessness that you feel watching the life leave your body. In the middle of the night while everyone else around me slept. I lay on my bathroom floor in our small home and wept. I remember quietly singing twinkle twinkle little star to myself quietly as I sobbed. As if it would make the passing easier.

The next day, it was confirmed that the baby was no more. My body was doing its job well however. For once. I could go home and rest, they could help me but I didn’t want that. I wanted to do it alone, I think sometimes that was my way of punishing myself. Dealing with that pain.

Once the physical pain is passed, you are left with the “what ifs”. What if I had rested more? What if we had been to the hospital sooner? What if I had eaten differently? What if, What if What it.

The following weeks, I was told “It’s just not your time”, “Its mother’s nature’s way of weeding out the defective” “At least you know you can get pregnant” “At least it was early, it wasn’t a proper baby”

My young and polite head nodded along with these statements, while my heart screamed at them…. “HOW IS THAT HELPFUL!!!” While all well-meaning, I just wanted someone to acknowledge the life I had in me for however brief a moment, to tell me how sorry they were.

Looking back at this one moment, sadly there have been other since, I have come to learn that there isn’t anything anyone can say to make this better. The worst thing to do to me is to make it seem less than, not as bad. My heart was broken, my husband didn’t know what to do and through all of our losses I think sadly he has been overlooked. People feel terrible for you and just don’t know what to say. I want to say to anyone dealing with this now, “I’m so sorry” is enough. That’s it.

A dream of a life we haven’t ever gotten to live has gone with each loss we have experienced. The pain I don’t think will ever go, we just learn to live with it. It’s important to me to find a voice to share my story in the hopes that others never have to feel like I did, less than, a failure, like it was our fault, like we had to make it easier for others so they didn’t feel uncomfortable.

Our rainbow babies will be with us always, they have shaped who we are now. I think we would have made pretty great parents. But I will always grieve the life that we didn’t live too. Maybe one day we may still get that dream, you just never know.

Time Heals Nothing ….. I Am Always Waiting!! 

The passing of time is something none of us can control. It’s become my enemy over the last few years. Starting with us trying for children and then moving to heartbreak when we lost my cousin to cancer in 2016. Time moving forward caused pain, it’s frustrating and there is absolutely nothing we can do about it.

Grief is a weird experience. True gut wrenching, not knowing how you are still breathing grief I have only experienced once. For two reasons.

I loved my little cousin like a brother, our family adored him. When he was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer it felt like I was watching something happen on a TV programme. Like I was removed from it. We never believed we would actually loose him. How could we? We waited for treatment. We waited while he endured gruelling chemo. We waited for remission. We waited for news when it came back and worst of all we waited at his side when he took his last breath.

I read somewhere a meme that said

“I didn’t die with you that night, but a part of me left with you”

it best sums up for me how it felt. I wasn’t the same person, none of us were and we have managed the best we can. Nothing is the same. So now we wait for breathing and moving forward to not hurt so much. We wait for the mythical time to heal our wounds.

During the time he was undergoing treatment I found out we were pregnant. It was a wonderful, terrifying and guilty moment. How could this be happening now?!?  The happiness was sort lived, we lost our baby. It happened quickly but again we endured more waiting while nature took its course. Mother Nature is a cruel bitch.

How could I process the loss of another baby. I couldn’t hold it together and for the first time I fell to pieces. I felt every loss in the previous years that I had packed neatly away in a box in the back of my mind.

I waited for the pain to pass. When we lost my cousin a few months later I thought the grief would bury me. My already Swiss cheese heart was shattered. My grief screamed silently day after day. There are no words of comfort or words to articulate that feeling.

I am still waiting for that pain to pass. I have again learned to live with it, but that grief screams on silently all day everyday.

I get so frustrated with myself sometimes. Each month that passes, when my monthly arrives there is still a brief moment where I wonder what if. What if this is the month.

When we were in the thick of trying, we waited a lot.  We waited for the ovulation peaks, the doctors appointments and tests or worse the two week wait so that we could do a pregnancy test, mean while watching out for symptoms like a crazy women.

I haven’t done that in a while. The more hope disappeared so did the crazy urge to symptom watch.

Since loosing some weight it has messed with my cycle. Last month was less days this month it would appear it’s going to be late. I know logically that I am not pregnant. I know this. But guess which crazy lady is back?!?! That would be me!!

Every month used to go the same. It would start with the disappointment of another failed cycle. Push through that to get to optimism of a new month, symptom watching continues for ovulation not to mention the tests to see if you actually get a peak this month. Peak arrives and you have scheduled sex, a lot of scheduled sex!! No pressure!!

Then follows the dreaded two week wait. This is a fun moment where your logical sensible brain says

“You can not be getting symptoms crazy lady!!”

But my whakado voice says

“Did your breast just hurt???, are you peeing more?? I’m sure that stabbing pain feels like implantation??!!”

This would be followed by thousands of google searches on “early symptoms of pregnancy” even though in reality I could probably write the pages myself!

Then there is the final stage…. when she arrives. I could be found sat on our toilet at home or at work ….. or randomly in a shopping centre toilet even once. Sat silent tears falling into my lap. Another month gone. Another month no baby. Another month of waiting.

I had to stop the crazy for my sanity. I had managed to do this after the grief of loosing my cousin put things into perspective. There had to be more to life than this.

Since loosing the weight it’s becoming more possible that we might be able to have further treatment and I think that has woken the beast. Today I am officially due for her to arrive. I have already talked myself out of buying yet another test that would undoubtly be negative. I can not look at another negative test!!

I know that she’s on her way, but my oh my have I watched for those symptoms today. I am trying to brace myself for the inevitable disappointment. You would think after nearly 13 years I would be better at this, but the truth is the dream is still so deeply seeded inside me that it hurts. I think it always will be. No matter if we manage to get our baby or not. Nothing will take the grief or loss away for the babies we have lost.

13 years seems like a long time to have to wait, I wish I could stop. I guess until that time comes I take comfort from our little community on my pages, to know that we are not alone.

So when she does show her face again. I will dust myself off and try again. I won’t give up hope, not just yet. Xoxo

The Childless Mother At Rest – Thank Goodness for Rockliffe Hall! 

It’s no surprise to anyone that knows me that I do like a little luxury. We work hard and travelling and taking some time out are our escapes from the real world.  It also won’t surprise anyone to know I am happiest when it’s just my husband and I somewhere we can relax. 

It’s a test to any marriage dealing with the loss of your babies and infertility. I am sure it could easily rip you apart. I feel down time together is so very important as well as talking to each other. 

Through every loss and disappointment I fight the urge to curl into a ball and never leave the house, my mum would tell you that I never take enough time to heal. I don’t think that’s true. I feel like if I don’t keep moving forward and dwell too much on the what if’s of a situation I would never be able to function, to simply live my life. I perform my part well, and unless you read my blogs I doubt very much you would even know how broken I am. 

What and If are two of the most haunting words for people in our position, what if our babies had lived, what would our lives be like now? What if we were a “normal” couple. Whatever “normal” is, what would that feel like? 

What we will do every now and then is find a way to escape through travelling. We love to spend time at nice hotels and feel pampered, to look at the positives of our life. To enjoy each other. To be together and not be thinking about the stresses this life can throw at you. This weekend we did just that at a beautiful hotel near to us. 

Driving away from the town centre of Darlington in County Durham, out into the beautiful English countryside there is a treasure set back away from the rest of the world. This is one of my favourites places to go – Rockliffe Hall. My escape and safe haven. My new addiction.   

The impressive red brick facade whispers of the history of this 18th century building.  The interior is rich, beautiful and pure luxury. The attention to detail is incredible. I felt the stress trickle out of me before I even have the room key even in my hand. 

The room we had was in the New Hall, they spacious and oooze indulgence as well as wonderful little touches such as a hand written welcome note on the dresser. There is even a TV in the bathroom! A TV IN THE BATHROOM!!!! 

It’s at these moments, when I allow myself to stop that often the pain does resurface. I do allow myself to let my mask slip. I don’t think that’s a bad thing,  I need these moments to sort through the painful memories that I normally have safely tucked away in a box at the back of my mind. 

We all deal with such things in our own way. I do what I do everyday to survive it. There is no right or wrong. I like to relax and I enjoy this sort of experience, I feel like it recharges me for the challenges ahead. 

This time not only did we experience the spa and treatments to take care of that relaxing. We ate at all of the restaurants (sorry Slimming World!).

The food is just amazing but more than that, the staff are exceptional. From check in to check out they make you feel so very comfortable and that nothing is too much. I can not sing the praises enough. They really do make the experience. 

I love food. I am trying to loose weight at the moment for treatment but there wasn’t any way I would go to Rockliffe Hall and stay on plan, sometimes you just have to choose life! Enjoy it! Then get back to it! 

The breakfast was lovely. We have a little in joke about poached eggs. I love them but often when eating out they are never “right” my husband holds his breath while I cut into them for the first time and is pleased when the beautiful yolk spills out 😂😂! It’s amusing to watch and this weekend they were so good! The choice was extensive and I did have fruit to start with! So I was a little good 😬😬. Also when you get ketchup in a jar, you know you are in for a treat! 

The Orangery is the flagship restaurant and is hugely popular. With 3AA rosette there is no wonder why. My husband is SUCH a fussy eater. I was so nervious to take him there as I was positive he would look at the menu and walk out. He was very brave and agrees to try the chef Richard Allen’s nine course taster menu. While not all of the dishes were to Ben’s taste, the experience would be one we will never forget. It’s so much more than just food! It’s like a stage show you get to eat. 

The personal touch is outstanding. The Food and Beverage Manager knew our names and a little about our stay, our waiter was knowledgeable taking us on a delightful journey with him through each beautiful course. It was exquisite. My particular favourites being the desserts!

Every detail of this evening was beautifully prepared and presented. 

We ate in the other two restaurants the Brasserie and The Club House. Again the food was scrumptious but the real stars were the staff. 

We stayed three nights. We laughed, we ate. It was perfect. 

While on this journey, you can get caught up in the end goal. Sometimes it’s easy to not enjoy the life around you. We are nearly 13 years into this now. How much more time would we give to getting a child? I don’t know. I refuse however to not enjoy the journey where we can. 

I love my husband, we make an amazing team. We deserve to take some time to enjoy ourselves. I know this may not be possible every weekend, it’s not the cheapest activity. I do however believe in value for money and I do believe you get that at Rockliffe. A rare treat for sure, but one I hope to repeat again very soon. 

I am already dreaming of my return….. until next time Rockliffe Hall xoxo

Am I Not a “Real Woman”?

I read a comment made a few weeks ago by a celebrity that she would now be a “real woman” having been able to give birth to her child.

It felt like a slap to my face reading the article and I sent my phone sailing across the room in temper. Shouting – “So what does that make me?” after it!

It’s a thought that my cruel inner voice often shares with me in those quiet moments. I often lay in the darkness trying so hard to sleep. I listen to my husband’s steady breathing and I cry silent tears. That voice sometimes whispers to me many cruel things, of all of them this is the worst;

“It’s you, you are defective and you are not a real woman you can’t even keep a pregnancy!”

By the next morning all such thoughts are banished, my eyes show no signs of the tears shed in the night. I put on my make-up, straighten my shoulders and face the world. After all, the world does not stop for you, no matter how terrible you are feeling.

That comment echoed by someone of influence, someone that I have always respected as a role model to young girls everywhere, it stung! I know that those comments were not meant as an attack on all the women out there struggling with infertility simply how she was feeling, but does that make it ok?

There are still so many pressures even now for women to conform get married and have children. It’s one of the first questions often asked without any regret of tact of a newlywed couple or of a woman of “advancing” age. And god forbid that a women or couple should choose to not want to have a child! Imagine that?!

The dreaded question of “When are you expanding you family?” or “When can we expect a little one??” becomes a constant pain, one where I often find myself being flippant or worse lying to cover the clear pain in those questions.

“I’m too selfish to have children”,

“We love to travel too much”

Until one day I just stopped! I started to share our heartache and so many other couples in our situation shared with me theirs. I could no longer keep silent.

Am I less of a woman because I have never given birth? NO! I am not. I have held myself together through some the most invasive, intrusive and painful examinations. I have endured the physical pain that comes along with having PCOS, month after month of excruciating pain that has seen me pass out and vomit. No baby to show for it.

I have got up and gone to work after learning that we have lost yet another pregnancy, my heart breaking into a million pieces. I have smiled and continued moving forward even though all I wanted to do was take to my bed and forget the world existed.

I have congratulated and held my composure through many friends and relatives getting their families before me, some at times when I have lost pregnancies. I have smiled and supported them while inside my silent screaming grief would be enough to rip some people to pieces.

I have sat in waiting room, after waiting room of the scanning departments at hospitals surrounded by beautiful baby bumps while our dream was lost.

I am every inch a real woman, as is every other woman out there struggling to have a family or indeed those women that have simply decided that motherhood is not for them. I am honoured to help others through my blog pages, when they feel at their lowest points to say – you are not alone. You matter and what you feeling deserves to be heard!

We are real women. I hope that anyone that hears these sorts of comments from high profile celebrities, friends or even sometimes family members that you remember how strong you actually are! We fight every day for what we want no matter the pain we endure both mental and physical. We are freaking warriors, I hope that we never forget that!


When Did Hope Die? 

We have been on this journey for so long now, had so much disappointment and heartbreak somewhere along the way I lost something I thought I never would …. I lost all hope. Along with that, I lost the dream of being a mother. 
I’m not sure when this happened, perhaps it slipped away a little at a time. Perhaps is was ripped out in buckets with every silent heartbeat on a scan monitor or with the negative pregnancy test sitting in my lap, anointed with freshly fallen tears. Perhaps that’s where my hope disappeared, slowly down tear tracks etched into my cheeks over 12 years. I don’t know. 

All I know is this last couple of weeks, as the weight has slowly started to fall off, I have felt a flutter that has been missing. My hope was returning. 

Once I realised this is what I was feeling, I was crushed to know just how lost I had been before now. It upset me to think that I had given up on our dream. I had written myself off as a failure, I had convinced myself I couldn’t do this. 

One of the most gut wrenching, heartbreaking things to get your head around when you have fertility issues is that it’s you. You are the reason why.  You are defective. You can not perform the one task that should be so natural for a woman to do.  You, you ….. YOU! Even with that knowledge I thought I was strong. I thought we had shouldered more than most could bare and retained our sanity. 

While it’s true we have shouldered a lot. Cried more tears in the twelve years trying for a child than I could count. I do feel like I have lost a part of me in the process. I was an optimist. I was so sure that even with my PCOS we would get pregnant that every failed pregnancy we lost, every negative test that followed I believed it was taking us closer to what we wanted. That no world could be so cruel to allow us not to get our dream. 

Twelve long years, slowly but surely that hope died in me. I didn’t mourn it all at once, or acknowledge it at all really. I didn’t even notice it was gone until I felt a glimmer come back. 

I’m 36. The window is closing. Perhaps that is why the motivation is staying with me this time. I need to loose the weight to get treatment and it always felt like a mountain. Now I am 25.5lbs down with another 42lb plus to go, but I actually feel like I can do this! 

The more I feel confident that I can lose the weight. The more that the hope I had lost seems to return. 

Will we ever realise our dream to be parents. I don’t know. But the fact I have finally found the confidence to keep going, to take control of something for once! That makes me hopeful. 

If anyone is reading this with PCOS over weight and wondering how you could possible find the grit to try and loose weight. Give yourself a break, take it one meal at a time and most of all forgive the slips. 

I am not a natural gym bunny 🐰 or healthy eater but learning to forgive my slips and getting back to it the next meal has been something that’s new and it’s keeping me on track. Am I perfect!? Hell No! But I want it so badly. I am not thinking so far in the future I am planning one week at a time. Hoping that I can stay strong. We can all do that. 

Wish me luck xoxo

Dear baby. I know you are waiting …. 

A letter to our unborn child.

Dear baby bean,

I know you are waiting patiently to reach us. I know you are close by waiting for the stars to line up and for mummy’s body to work to give you a safe space to nestle in and grow.

I want you to know I dream about you often, your smiles and giggles, the soft touch of your baby skin, the gentle slope of your button nose that you get from your daddy because I have a bumpy nose! I can almost smell your head and breathe in the perfect baby scent that makes women crazy enough to want to endure the pain of labour to hold you in their arms.

I would sit for hours cradling you as you sleep too scared to put you down. Not minding in the least that I would be spoiling you, I wouldn’t care. It feels so unfair that we can’t do that yet. I ask often why us? What did we do? I know in my heart we would cherish and love you and give you the best home we could. It breaks me to think that we may never get to show you the wonderful life we could give you.

Every day it feels like I have a silent scream that can’t ever be heard. Where is my baby?!?!

I like to think we have been chosen to endure this heartbreak because something special is yet to come. That would be you. So no pressure little bean!

We have so much love in our home, it’s bursting at the seams, there is so much love for you waiting here if only you could reach us. Daddy tells me you would be playing football and would definately be a boy, sharing all the nerdy things in his world and especially your first time sitting on his Harley with him. I wouldn’t let you on the bike of cause, but that’s an arguement for another day.

I wouldn’t care if you were boy or girl …. and don’t tell him I said this but neither does daddy, he just likes to annoy me.

We have two beautiful doggies Jackson and Tara that are waiting for a little friend to love and play with. They would make wonderful and protective pets for you. They love to snuggle in close.

I already know what your nursery would look like, I have had years to imagine it. The colour may change but in the corner would sit a rocking chair for you and me …. we might let daddy use it too. I would sing to you and rock you to sleep, our perfect little bean.

There would be a book shelf  filled with wonderful worlds and fairy tails. As you grow older I would read to you at bed time, I love to read and I feel sure that is something you would grow to love too. I would share the world of Harry Potter and other such magical places to escape and imagine before you go to sleep. ……. while daddy would read Star Wars and motorbike manuals to you and explain how many ways in which you can change the look of your bike when you get one ….. which would be never have I mentioned no bikes?!

I’m sorry you have to wait so long, we are trying so hard to get you here. Can you wait a little while longer? You are still the twinkle in the stars for now as my body just can’t keep you safe. I’m so sorry about that. I’m working hard to make a change to make it safe.

I hope it won’t be too much longer.

I’ll never let the dream go little bean. You are with me always.


Life’s little curve balls 

On this very long road to parenthood we have experienced many ups and downs. Life’s throws things at you and you have to decide on many occasions if you are sinking or swimming. 

There are many moments that I have wanted to simply shut myself from the world and sink. Allow the darkness to take me. Sounds dramatic, and those who know me would likely agree I am a dramatic person. For this fertility journey I would disagree. No one has seen the many hours of waiting for ovulation tests, followed by weeks of waiting only to have your dreams repeatedly crushed with another negative test. 

Sat on the bath side, test on the sink, not touching it like that would effect the outcome if you accidentally knock it the wrong way! Watching the flashing timer or the line creeping up the window of the test, waiting……. hoping …….. then NEGATIVE!! 

To start with I would console myself with, well it’s early days, keep trying. As the years passed those moments got harder and harder and would often result in a total meltdown on the bathroom floor. 

When those tests were positive, in those beautiful rare occasions. My excitement was short lived replaced with fear and then the inevitable loss. 

Some may ask why we continue to put ourself through this. Anyone that would ask this has clearly never felt the desperate urge to have a child you just can’t seem to keep. 

I feel like we are batting back curve balls all the time and one of the biggest battles for me is my weight. Repeatedly doctors would say loosing weight is what needs to happen to progress now, apparently there is no help left for chunky monkeys! 

Having PCOS those who know, will understand just how hard it is to shift this weight, leading to anger, resentment and eventually desperation as the weight clings on. 

At the end of May I decided to give it one more go, we had decided that we would pay for the treatment needed, but even privately I needed to loose some weight. 

I stepped into my first Slimming world class after the bank holiday weekend at the end of May. Not really sure if I could do it after so many failed attempts before. I went home, worked out what I would eat for the week and thought I will give it 12 weeks. If it doesn’t work then I will go back to the docs! 

Week one I lost 11lbs! We had weigh in six last night and I have now lost 22lbs! I have no idea what is different now but I will keep going as long as it will let me. 

So the treatment looks closer now. Sadly my husband was in a motorbike accident a couple of weeks ago, broken his shoulder and he’s a self employed blind fitter. Out of the window goes the paying privately for treatment! We could have a melt down and think we just aren’t meant to be parents!


We won’t. 

What I am now aiming for is to get below that BMI that seemed impossible to get to not so long ago! We have a new challenge, we have had so many over our relationship. We are a team. I know we will make it through this curve ball just like we always have. 

Life can’t be planned out. Things change. Some of those life plans can be hard to let go of. But if we spend time hanging on too hard to the dream that we just can’t achieve that’s out of our hands, we will miss the wonderful things happening around us now – This minute. 

I hope more than anything that we manage to get our family. One day. Until then, war paint on and keep fighting. 

I might be a drama queen 👸🏼 but I am also a frickin warrior too!! I bare the battle scars of a childless mothers heart break. Only those who walk this road with me truly knows how that feels. We are pretty awesome 👏🏻❤️❤️

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