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The Childless Mother

Dealing with infertility and finding happiness

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tryingtoconceive

Childfree in a sea of parents.

I don’t think I ever felt like I was “normal” who is right? What even is normal nowadays? I don’t really even like the word!!

Dealing with infertility and PCOS has just increased this feeling of not really fitting in. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I don’t mind being slightly different. Having said that there are times that as a couple in our thirties and childfree, I feel we stick out like sore thumbs. It can catch me quite off guard at times too. Then I get angry at myself to allowing the self pity back in.

On Friday we had some time to kill between work appointments. We decided to go to the cinema and the only thing that happened to fit with our schedule was “Christopher Robin” – loved it, deffo worth a watch. Pooh Bear is so cute!! – but of cause it was filled with families.

Here we were. In our work clothes (looking like we just came off a building site) no children and watching a Disney movie. I didn’t think much about it at first until the cinema filled up and I realised we were in fact the only childfree people in there. Including a mum with her toddler and beautiful baby bump that walked right past inches from my face to sit next to us. ……. πŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈπŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈπŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™€οΈ awesome!

I suddenly thought ” What must people think about us?!”

The fact is we are both big kids, we love a good Disney movie and the reality was probably no one even noticed we were childless but my damaged brain repeated hurtful things to me. You don’t belong here, you shouldn’t even be here, what must people think, why would you be here without children….. imagine what it would be like if you had a child here to share this with.

I’ve never been self conscious about this sort of thing before. This is new. I think maybe because the older we get we are the only couple now that doesn’t have children in our circle of friends, it feels like we are alone. That being said, we don’t need to have children to enjoy childish things.

I feel distant sometimes from our friends for this reason too. There is a certain connection that parents share from knowing what it’s like to be going through parenthood. A comradery almost (well until they are trying to out do each other with costumes and PTA bullshit then they are straight up enemies!) Still there are things that we can’t share. Birthing stories, Shared activities, children’s parties, clubs, education, trends etc. It feels sometimes like Im a spectator watching a game I can never play and I don’t understand the rules I just sit quietly at the side lines. I can do nothing about it. That’s what hurts the most.

I could allow myself to be consumed with anger and the “why us” of it all. I try not to. I embrace the life we have. It’s not the one I imagined but it’s a good one. My marriage is so good. We have fun and laugh more than we cry. He still makes my stomach flip after 16 years. That doesn’t mean we don’t mourn the life we imagined, the little boy or girl that would have completed us, but we aren’t just surviving. We are happy.

The song “This is Me” from the movie The Greatest Showman is so completely perfect for me, I cry almost every time I hear it. I feel the words passionately. I am broken and bruised. My scars may not all be visible but they are there and I wear them proudly. For every baby that lived however briefly inside of me. I feel like shouting THIS IS ME!

We almost apologise for being as we are, like we feel an obligation to make others around us feel less uncomfortable with our infertility. Often passing off events or moments as no big deal when secretly we are screaming inside. I don’t do this anymore. I make no apologies, we didn’t ask for this it’s no ones fault, we all just do the best we can. It’s not my responsibility to make others feel ok about it and it’s not theirs to make us feel better. We are coping the best we can.

So no, I may never be living the “normal” life I imagined as a child but I am living the absolute best life. Not a constellation prize type deal. It’s an actual good life. I’m just a little brokenis all.

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.

Baby clothes ….a weird hope.

I don’t know if I’m alone in this, I suspect I am not but I’m going to share anyway in case there are others like me feeling the same.

After all these years I have a huge urge to shop for nursery equipment and baby clothes. There! I said it. It’s out there.

I always imagined the months and weeks leading up to a birth, the excitement and preparation of the new arrival would be so wonderful. Part of that imagined scenario is the nursery and baby clothes.

In the early days I would look around these sections when I shopped alone and imagine being able to just buy anything remotely baby related to make up for all the time yearning.

When we did get pregnant and the few occasions that bean was a strong one and made it further into the pregnancy. I even went as far as buying a couple of football related items to give to my husband. They sat in a bottom draw for years until we moved house the last time and I had to let them go for my sanity. The bottom draw became a shrine and that didn’t feel good. I was tormented by them.

It’s hard to let go of these items when you see the moment clearly. A happy moment I would have shared with my husband. Handing him a Newcastle United onesie with Phillips on it. Telling him we finally were going to be parents.

I’m often surprised by the way some things affect me and then others that I would brace myself for turn out to be not too bad. For example the other day we were doing some work on a maternity ward, a couple were signing in to give their baby as I waited to see if we could carry the work out. The ache I carry everyday burned so badly at that moment. I will never experience this. I braced myself for the whole way to the job and actually it wasn’t too bad, once the initial pain passed I was ok.

I was a little jealous looking at all those baby bumps and going into the delivery suite thinking I have no clue what it’s like to be here and I want to be here so badly. The little units with the little knitted hats waiting for a beautiful head to cover. But I left feeling a little sad, but ok.

A few hours later we went to a shopping centre to buy some new clothes for our holiday next week. We are going to Prague 😁😁. The fitting room of cause had to be in the middle of the baby clothes. There was a little tiny pair of skinny jeans. They were for 0-3 months and were the cutest thing I have ever seen. They fit in my hand.

As I waiting for my husband to try his clothes on, I watched as families browsed the clothing and selected items and I felt such a huge wave of grief. Grief for a life I am not getting to live.

It’s like that movie sliding doors, in an alternative world I didn’t loose our babies and my husband and I are going through all these normal life experiences and my heart isn’t broken. We cradled my huge bumps while our little one kicked away and grew safe and strong protected by my body, we argued over furniture and colours for the nursery we spent time creating for them, we were able to buy the beautiful clothes for our children. That version of us doesn’t feel like a fraud for even picking up those little jeans. That version on me might have bought them in the right size for our children. You would feel the overwhelming love in our home. Love of our family.

There is a lot of love anyway. In the real version of our lives I am so happily married. I’m so completely in love with my husband fifteen years on. We get to travel a lot. We have nice things. We are happy. We have a lot to be thankful for. We just have this one part that hurts every day, it’s become part of our lives. Some days it’s just like white noise irritating but I can ignore it. Some days my grief screams so loudly that my chest aches. Those are the days I wish we didn’t have to experience it. I wish I could find a way to let go and be ok with it and that small things didn’t eat away at me , like perfect little jeans for a perfect baby we might never have.

Plan B ….

For as long as I have been aware, having a family was something I always wanted.

No one really tells you it’s not something you are guaranteed. Growing up I heard a lot of;

“When you get married and have kids of your own”

You don’t question it. It’s life’s plan. It’s what’s done.

Here’s my issue with that. What if it’s not? Why does it have to be? Someone choosing not to have children is no less valuable to society than someone that has had a car full of babies. Yet we are often made to feel less than, I even read an article claiming that professional woman are selfish for this decision.

Are you kidding me?! Apart from the fact you never know why that person hasn’t had a family if by choice or by circumstance or like for us there is an issue. It’s none of anyone else’s business.

Also you say selfish ….Who is it that covers holidays and sickness of those needing the extra days for their children?? I’m not ever bothered about doing this, or wasn’t before I was self employed. In fact I more than once offered to cover holidays etc because I know how important it is to be at home with your kids, but don’t call me selfish for it!! Don’t tell me I’m not contributing to society doing that takes more than reproducing.

One Christmas Eve some years ago when we had a working day as you do in media advertising. They announced they would be letting those with children leave early. Sitting there post failed fertility treatment, already slightly upset about Christmas I was so angry. Did my time with my husband mean less because we didn’t have children? Ironically it took one of my friends with children to point out how unfair and insensitive that was. I know it wasn’t done intentionally to hurt me or others like me, but the fact they didn’t think about that was infuriating.

Another really irritating example is the romantic movie industry. Hard nose business woman who puts her career first realised she should have married that high school boyfriend and had a family instead, because being a business woman is so horrible…. really? It’s a repeated message told over and over. Some people are happy to be single. Not everyone needs to find their prince or princess charming. Some people love their careers – what’s wrong with that?!

I could list a hundred examples of ways in which I was made to feel less than, less important, not in the “know” because I don’t have children, like there’s some secret language you get access to when you have a child.

Having a family is important to me, but it doesn’t define me. I know that’s funny because of the time I dedicate to writing about it but I feel like we need to point this out. I am able to function in society. I just feel like we should talk about plan b a little more.

We are 14 years into the whole trying for a family thing and as times gone on, so with it has grown a feeling of aimlessness. To find out where I fit in. While my friends and family around me are taking kids to nursery’s, school, children’s parties, events for children, we kind of sit on the sidelines not really fitting in. No one really talks about what next if it doesn’t work.

I get that this is such a personal journey so some people are more ok with it sooner than others. For me I never really have given up. I try. Then I will see a baby and I’m right back to yearning desperation.

I feel like certainly the last three years I have plodded along. Just waiting in case. I had renewed hope when I started to loose weight. Here I am 61lbs down and still no baby. I know we are heading for IVF weight but I have lost my focus. It feels like it’s not helped.

As anyone that reads my blogs regularly knows, I had a car accident that sent me into a spiral. I left my job and the industry I have worked in for the last 15 years. I needed a change. I needed a plan B and to find my way without the baby plan.

I’m tired of feeling aimless and less than. This change and starting my own business has given me new purpose. I don’t know if it’s going to work out. I know I have smashed my first months target that I projected for myself. But it’s early days. Maybe my business will be my baby. Who knows.

It’s important to think about what next if it doesn’t happen. I know how hard it is to think about it, but it’s time I did. I have to try to heal. I don’t think I will ever get to a point of giving up completely but having a new focus is helping. There are so many successful women out there killing it child free and happy.

I just want to not feel so upset when I think about our future. I want to enjoy the now instead.

What next?

I always knew I wanted to be a mother. There wasn’t a time limit on it, I didn’t think by this age I will be a mum. I just knew I wanted to get married and have a child. Old fashioned? Maybe. I wanted a career and to travel etc of cause, but it was like motherhood was written through me like a stick of rock. A background noise to future decisions.

I could imagine my life with my husband and children. A happy one. I visualised it so often that I convinced myself that it would happen. It was going to be tough, I didn’t understand why I was being tested like this, but it would happen. One day I would be sat holding my child grateful and all the pain and struggle would be worth it as I gaze down at my beautiful baby.

Sometimes these things do not go to plan. Now in my mid thirties I am left wondering when do I let go of the life I imagined and start to embrace a different one? As time passes the ache grows, but also it’s changing.

I have tried over the years to move on, I have done many wonderful things that we wouldn’t perhaps have been able to do if we had children, but every long term plan was hindered slightly by the hope….. if I am pregnant by that time what will we do.

In a way I feel like certainly the last 10 years have been lived around this “what if” some decisions perhaps put off, plans rearranged. I wonder how long I will continue to do this before I accept it isn’t happening and make a new plan.

The truth is that I just can not imagine a future without children, the more it becomes a reality it’s hard to let go of the life I have imagined since I was a little girl. It’s like letting that part of me die. I’m grieving.

Until recently I have plodded along almost zombie like. You work pay bills and do a few holidays and all the while hoping that this time next year I would have our child. I would finally feel complete and not like a puzzle with a missing piece.

I don’t believe a woman’s worth is just in having children of cause, I see lots of wonderful, beautiful strong women in this world getting along fantastically and childfree by choice. Happy. I want to be one of them but something in me just can not let go.

I used to wonder was it just that growing up the world around me told me thats what I should be doing. Was that the reason I even wanted to have children? The older I am the more I know this isn’t true. Somewhere deep inside me there is just an ache, a desperate need to nurture and raise a child.

The independent woman in me gets angry that I feel so directionless now that I haven’t fulfilled that dream. I want to scream and slap myself. I have so much to be grateful for why can’t I just let this one thing go and move on??

How do I even do that. MOVE ON.

A Picture Tells a Thousand Tales.

Do you ever look at a photo and it instantly takes you back to that time. To how you felt. To what was happening around you.

The picture with this article was of my husband and I after I lost a pregnancy. We went for a walk around our little village shortly after. The picture kills me now to look at because I see the hurt and pain in my eyes.

The desperation. The absolute and complete certainty that all hope was lost. That we would never be parents that my arms would be empty forever. That my heart would always be a little bit broken.

Three years on from this and I am healing. The ache from wanting children is still there but you do find a way of living with it. By looking around you. By seeing what good is in your life. For me that’s my wonderful husband, my mother, family and completely amazing friends. There is a lot to be thankful for.

I remember being in the thick of desperately wanting a child. It consumed my life and I would only ever read success stories. Those who had managed to finally get their bundle of joy. I wondered where were my fellow Childless / childfree people?. Today it’s different. So many wonderful women write about being Childless and do a lot to support us. I am thankful for them too “A Birds Eye View” is a personal favourite.

I do not know if I will ever be a mother. Does that hurt still. Of cause

I do know I will still be a worthwhile human being, I will still contribute to the world.

I think we make the rest of the world a little uncomfortable because we don’t fit the standard. Especially those people who are Childless by choice. But we fit perfectly into our world. We matter. A life can be full and happy even if you ache for something you can’t have or have decided it’s not for you.

I will always be reminded at times of that little break in my heart. It will always sting. But I am determined to not wallow. To be able to look back and feel like I didn’t spend all this time so consumed by baby making that no other happiness could break through my grief.

I look for moments that are quiet. That I can turn my face up to the sun (when it’s out) and say,

“Thank you for the life I have. It’s pretty great.”

❀️❀️

Why do I Feel Lonely?

Anyone can feel totally alone when they are surrounded by people that love them. It’s a weird place to be, that you can’t find the words to reach those people to say you are struggling.

As you all know, I have no problem finding the words and my blog and you lovely readers have helped me more than I could ever say. But even I have my moments of loneliness.

One of the difficult things to navigate around when you are gradually getting older and still childless is where you fit in. Life doesn’t really have an acceptable box for the childless over a certain age. It’s easier for some people if you follow the guidelines expected or if you can’t, that you keep it to yourself and pretend to fit the idea of normal. That’s something I was never going to be “Normal” … urgh … I hate that word!!

As more and more of our friends get their bundles of joy. We celebrate with them and then watch on with a certain amount of jealousy as their lives are filled with their children and as they grow their children’s activities, they are amerced into school social calendars and PTA events and activities and I just can’t relate to any of that.

It leaves me sometimes feeling like I am on a island alone.

Now don’t get me wrong, even if our miracle happens and we get to do all of that stuff, I would be the furthest from a PTA mum. Think more Bad Moms. Our kid would be riding to school on the back of a Harley and probably frightening other kids with discussions on how we have talked about surviving a zombie apocalypse. πŸ€·πŸ»β€β™€οΈπŸ€·πŸ»β€β™€οΈ it’s just going to happen nothing we can do about that!! But at least I would get it.

It feels lonely at times sitting in a room of mums discussing Easter holiday plans, days out and what they need to get ready for the kids entertainment etc. It’s lonely because you have nothing to say at these times, or at least that’s how I feel. What am I going to say?

“We bought Jackson a huge Easter egg. He just loved it, we have booked them on a Easter egg hunt too!” πŸ˜•πŸ˜•

Jackson’s one of our dogs …. he would love an Easter egg/ hunt even though it would prob make him sick. He’s a nutter like that πŸ€·πŸ»β€β™€οΈπŸ˜‚.

Kids parties are another example. Friends get together to celebrate with other friends that have kids so they can have a play date. They don’t often invite the childless couple, because they aren’t sure if you would be upsetting or even if they would want to go. It’s another walking on egg shell moment.

I remember once being sat at my best friends house for some kind of product party and I was the only childless person there. The conversation understandably was kid, kids and more kids and then the expected “how many do you have?” (as I didn’t know many people there) followed by the awkward ….. I can’t have kids moment.

I had nothing to say or what I did was polite nonsense. I remember feeling like I was watching the rest of them from a different room, so separate. So you avoid these moments where you can. It’s just easier for everyone.

I know that I have to try, to find common ground but it doesn’t change the feeling of being alone.

It doesn’t mean I am not supported or that we aren’t supported. At this point I think my best friend and our families actually want us to have a child as much as we do probably more in my Besties case πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ™ˆπŸ™ˆ.

Learning to adjust to the idea of a life without children is hard, learning to not separate myself is something I work hard on all the time.

If someone is struggling in your life, perhaps cancelling events and changing plans. Give them time. Try not to be angry with them. I can be sure they aren’t doing it to be horrible. They are most likely just trying to find a way through this horrible maze of feelings. To try to survive it the best way they can.

It’s an on going struggle, we are constantly working at being able to fit in when we don’t fit the norm. I never, ever imagined a life where I wouldn’t have kids. I don’t know how that looks even though I am living it. It feels sometimes like I’m treading water just to keep my head up.

Accepting a new sort of future takes time. I still haven’t lost hope. So that’s got to be something to cling to. Hope.

One day soon it’s just got to get better, right??

❀️❀️

PCOS Girl vs Her Weight Loss Mountain.

About six years into our journey to becoming parents, I knew my weight would be a problem. It might even prevent us from being able to move forward with treatment.

When the Chlomid didn’t work and the other options were drying up. I had to face the fact it was time that I did something.

For years my weight had acted as a comforter, a layer of protection against the hurt I was feeling. With each baby lost, ripped from my body I took comfort in what I always had, food. As I did this layer upon layer went onto my body, like a physical badge of the pain I was feeling.

As I have written before, I was always a chubby kid. I was teased for it when I was young and in truth I did learn to toughen up about it. One day on my way back from college, I was probably 17 and not wearing very flattering jeans when a young boy asked if I would like his seat in my condition. He thought I was pregnant. I was so embarrassed I took the seat and thanked him. How do I tell someone. “No I’m just fat.” πŸ€·πŸ»β€β™€οΈπŸ€·πŸ»β€β™€οΈ

I then met my now husband and our happiness turned to contentment and with that came eating, a lot of eating. The weight crept up and up but I didn’t see it. It was only standing in the fertility doctors office on those scales that would dictate what treatment I could have, as I stood there and the nurse told me I weighed iover 20st. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

The doctor then told me to get any further treatment. I would need to be below 30 bmi that’s 13st 3lbs for me. It felt like a mountain. When he added that it would prove to be difficult with the severity of my PCOS, I just felt like he told me I would almost certainly fail and that little voice that is often there telling me I can’t do something. Well she all out laughed at the idea of me trying to diet.

I made a good start but as promised it got difficult. Very difficult. I started to convince myself that it just wasn’t meant to be. I would find myself finding comfort in food and on went the cycle. On and on and on.

I wish I could bottle what’s been different this time. I would share it for free with anyone that needs it. I still remember the suffocating desperation, the urge to lose the weight but feeling like I couldn’t do it. My food cravings would always get the better of me. I could never imagine living without certain foods and if I tried I would think none stop of all the things I couldn’t have.

I heard so many times,

“Well if you really want it you will loose the weight”

The fact is if my body worked as others did that’s true but it’s soul destroying to give it your all, to deny yourself things you love to achieve that goal and then to lose nothing or even gain. The eyes in group on you like “she must be cheating!” I wasn’t.

I gave up frustrated. Resigned myself to the fact that I couldn’t get the weight off. That no one wanted to help me.

In May 2017 my husband and I went on another amazing holiday to New York (my favourite place) and then on to Dominican Republic (I also love it there). I felt frumpy and unattractive. I hated being by the pool. I decided when I got back….enough was enough. It was time to change.

I went to see my doctor and let it all out. I cried so much that I was hiccuping by the end of the appointment. She was the first doctor that really listened. I felt she was with me and really wanted to help, she herself had lost weight recently and she understood how hard it was for me. She also offered me Olistat. I knew about the drug and it’s side effects …. google them they aren’t pleasant. But I was desperate. The drug stopped my body absorbing some of the fats in the food.

With prescription in hand and a renewed motivation I stepped into my Slimming World class, it’s not the first or even second time I had joined and even a small bit of me thought;

“Oh here we go again!” πŸ™„πŸ™„

The first week I lost 11lbs. I was amazed. I followed the plan perfectly. Trusted in it and it provided a truly awesome loss. That motivated me into the second week and on. Between the plan and the tablets I have lost 49.5lbs and 24lbs away from my ivf goal. I had lost all hope of ever getting here, it made me feel so terribly guilty and sad that it was me standing in my own way. Now I feel hope again.

I don’t have a magic wand, the tablets aren’t miracle workers you can still gain but I feel they have me at a even chance like anyone else now. It’s still hard, so hard on days when I still want to comfort eat.

The amazing thing for me is that as time is going on, food is becoming less important. Where before I would be thinking about food most of my day, now I just think about what will take the hunger away quickly and what will help towards my next weeks loss.

Do I still have bad meals/ days. OF CAUSE!! I’m still that chubby girl inside and I still love food. The biggest change for me this time is that I forgive and forget the slips right away, from the next meal. I don’t let it drag on or punish myself by trying to skip meals, that ultimately would lead to more bad choices because I was so hungry.

I’m a little kinder to myself now. It’s ok not to be perfect and I try to not compare myself to other people.

I guess there are a lot of weight loss stories out there much more inspirational than mine, but I wanted to share this. To talk to the person out there crippled by grief, desperate for a family but feeling like they will never loose the weight they need to.

You can do it. Take small steps. Take it one meal at a time. Be kind to yourself. Find support either a group or maybe even some friends that may want to loose some with you.

If you have PCOS and probably find yourself explaining this when the scales don’t reflect the hard work you are putting in. I understand that. It might not show this week but it will show eventually don’t loose hope. Keep fighting.

I hope soon I will be writing a post at target. Ready to start the scary chapter that is IVF. The question mark that has loomed over us for years. Will it work. Part of me thinks I was scared to loose the weight because if it doesn’t work than that is the last of my hope gone. That prospect is heartbreaking.

For now however I will remain focused and keep fighting every day to get there. I feel like we are warriors and I say that a lot. What we go through and then still function, it takes strength. I feel that even more so since battling every day to loose this weight. I imagine every day I kick its arse….. in the hopes one day soon, I will have achieved my dream. It will all be worth it then.

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

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?!? Β 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. Β 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

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