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The Childless Mother

Dealing with infertility and finding happiness

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father

Am I strong?

I talk about us being warriors a lot. I believe that 100%. How else do we get through the day like it’s all ok. When some days it just isn’t.

I do however think it’s ok to admit when you can’t be strong. So many people will say that, how brave, how strong we are and I appreciate those words so much. They give me actual strength. It doesn’t mean that sometimes I don’t fall apart.

That’s ok too.

In the first few days after my last miscarriage it felt like I was sitting watching the world happen. Like I was removed from everything around me. Every time I tried to grasp what was happening I would feel the ache and loose control.

People talk about broken hearts. They use it to describe break ups and hardships. I have done this. Nothing compares to that pain, it’s not a metaphorical pain. It’s a physical one.

All the cliques feel true. It is a unique pain. Loosing a child you desperately long for. Going from a lifetime of possibilities of plans, to nothing. Worse than that for me, because I have lost our babies so early there is no record of them ever existing. No one would ever know their little hearts did beat at one time. Now mine beats slightly off, it is missing the beats of our children.

To survive I have built a shell almost, so that I don’t feel the pregnancy announcements, I don’t feel the words misspoken and I don’t feel the loss of the unlived life with our children. That’s by day.

Then by night, when it’s quiet and my thoughts are my only company my shell cracks. Often in the middle of the night I can be found silent tears falling onto my pillow. The bathroom is another place my shell crumbles.

Grief is a strange experience. I have heard it described as waves. I can relate to this. One moment I can be perfectly fine and then a wave hits me and I fall apart spectacularly. I’m not ashamed of these moments. I’m human.

I absolutely believe that we are warriors, but it’s ok for us to feel the pain we need to to move forward. I don’t want to forget that I was ever pregnant and only look forward, I can’t always be looking back either of cause but I owe it to my babies to not forget them.

I don’t have them in my arms. I never will. My nursery may always be empty. My arms may never know the joy of holding our children. It then becomes about how we survive it.

It’s really simple for me. I am able to continue. I am able to keep the strength to share to help others because I may be a broken warrior, but I’m a warrior all the same. I get most of my strength from my husband, we are a team. Life may not be going how we planned but even with what we have been through, we laugh far more than we cry.

I’m always going to fight to keep going, but it’s ok to allow a little sadness out. It’s perfectly acceptable to mourn what we have lost. I don’t need to be strong all of the time. I’m ok with that too.

The Childless Father on Fathers Day

Mother’s Day has been and gone and for the most part I survived this year unscathed. I thought of our babies, I wondered how my morning would have been different. As I always do, but I survived. 

Father’s Day is approaching and normally it passes without celebration.  Both my husband and I didn’t have dad’s growing up. Our mothers would get the cards and the thanks for being awesome enough to be both father and mother to us. This year I’m thinking about my husbands experience, what he’s missing because I can’t give him children. 

I feel the men on this fertility journey can often be over looked. Not least because in my husbands case, he won’t talk or say anything more than he isn’t bothered either way, he would be happy just us. Recently he has started to feel that he would like a child . A boy specifically but that’s for another blog lol. 

I don’t feel like he’s so wrapped up that this day will plague him like the alternative has me in the past 12 years, but my heart aches for the moment I would see him holding our child. So I know he must have thought of what the life would look like too. 

He loves his motorbikes, specifically Harley’s. Would he take him (or her like it or not we don’t get to choose 🙄🙄) to rally’s and events. Would he spend endless hours kicking a football around with them, setting up dens in the living room, camp outs in the front garden, wrestling on my new sofa that I would no doubt scold them for doing. 

We have a day to celebrate the fathers out there, and I feel like my husband, Ben should be celebrated too. He would be a wonderful father. 

I wanted to take a moment to say I am thinking about those who may find Sunday hard. You aren’t alone. Try and let your other halfs know you need some love. There is no shame in asking for a hand to hold. 

I hope that soon we are all able celebrate these days, I hope the world gets to see what an amazing father Ben would be. 

❤❤

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