A rollercoaster in early pregnancy

We finally did it! After a second FET we made it to pregnancy. WOOOOOO friggin HOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Our beta was due during the holidays when the clinic was closed, so I did a home pregnancy test and it came up immediately. Amazing stuff. It was actually very, very surreal after all this time, to finally see those two lines. My husband cried. I was pretty speechless. You’re always hoping for the best but prepared for the worse during a journey like ours.

A few days later, my beta came back at 5 weeks at a massive 25,000 or thereabouts. We were on cloud 9 and booked our scan in for a couple of weeks later. I was feeling similar to how I felt with Little One, pretty nauseous at times and extremely tired. We were on our way.

I had a couple of days where light brown spotting occurred. I wasn’t overly concerned. With my first pregnancy, which was natural, I had that from 4 weeks right through to week 9. Then last Thursday I felt terribly nauseous all day, which I take is a good sign that things are going well and hormones are raging, but that night brought us the worse fright. I stood up and felt a warm gush. Yep. Blood. Yep. Red. Yep. Bright. Through the following few hours I had several more substantial gushes with a couple of clots too. Scary shit. I tried not to panic, especially as hubby was not holding it together (he had finally let the emotion of this journey in on seeing the HPT). I centred myself, knowing there wasn’t much I could do if the worst was happening. In the morning I phoned straight through to my specialists rooms. I reported the events of the night before and that I hadn’t bled since, had no cramping during the episode or after but was spotting brown and red. I couldn’t get scanned that day and had to wait the entire weekend to know more!!! I was told to go to the local hospital if I had anymore bleeding or things became worse.

That weekend was hell. We literally just willed time to pass. My husband was a wreck. He couldn’t sleep or eat. I was in a bubble. Refusing to feel anything. I had another slightly smaller bleed and another clot on Saturday afternoon which stopped as quickly as it had started. I lay in bed or on the sofa, doing nothing and feeling empty. We feared the worst. We were pissed. This was a chromosomally normal embryo! What were the chances?!

Monday morning eventually arrived. We were up and out the door when it was still dark and the first people at the clinic. The nurse warned that at just over 6 weeks it might be hard to see what was happening exactly. But there on the screen was our little 6 week 3 day old baby with a strong heartbeat a 128bpm. Unbelievable! Wow! It was what I had hoped for not allowed myself to belief would happen. The nurse checked everything possible and spotted a, I quote “small”, area where the bleed had come from at the back of the uterus. She reiterated how small it was and that everything looked good. It baffles me still as the bleed was certainly not insubstantial. We saw the specialist too, and both reassured us things should be fine and that this does happen sometimes. I don’t want to get ahead of myself yet, so I don’t want to encourage anyone that has bleeding like mine. But it is somewhat reassuring to know that bleeding doesn’t always mean the end immediately.

Later that day my blood work came back from a test I’d had whilst at the clinic which indicated falling progesterone. It was down to 26. I wondered if that was linked to the bleeding. My HgC though had risen well to 90,000ish. At that point my specialist switched me to daily PIO injections with the one pessary at night. We have been following this protocol for a few days now. My husband does the injections and so far so good. They really aren’t bad. I’m still spotting though. Pretty much just brown now, with the odd spot of red.

It was a massive relief to see the baby on the screen. It looks strong! But our anxiety is certainly creeping slowly back in. I’m now wondering if progesterone has been the problem all along even though test results have come back normal in fertility investigations. I wonder if there is a case for normal ranges not applying to all individuals? With my suspicions of failed implantations all those years ago when we began TTC #2, to spotting before a period, to a cancelled fresh transfer due to progesterone rising before it should and to a failed FET on a lower progesterone dosage there seems to me to be some strong indicators. All this is floating round in my head and now with the continuing spotting we are worrying about whether my progesterone is going to stop us holding on to this pregnancy. I’m nearly 7 weeks. I need another 3 weeks to get to safer waters when the placenta starts doing its thing.

My specialist has sent me on to an Obstetrician now. After the scan and the progesterone adjustment I guess she felt happy enough to. I see him in a few weeks, so I feel like we are in a weird limbo until then. I can go to either in an emergency, but in the meantime no one is really tracking us which feels very strange after all this intervention and poking and prodding. I’m going to request a progesterone test again for my piece of mind. I want to see that it is rising back to where it was again now I’m on PIO. Maybe I will do a second pessary too?

I hope the spotting disappears so I can relax a bit more. I’m developing a fear of going to the toilet right now! I hope PIO is good to me. I hope my baby is still happily growing in there. I hope my body helps us out. I hope for the best at this time of anxiety and fear, where I feel so happy but also afraid to be joyful. I hope for dreams come true when I’m afraid to look too far ahead.

Wish me luck folks. It’s going to be a tense, rocky few weeks!

 

An unexciting no news update

… but I hope it helps you, amuses you or gives you something to do in your spare 5 minutes. An email notification arrived in my inbox from wordpress. I had a comment on an old post. Oh yes! I remember I have a blog. Sometimes, what I have been through on our journey helps someone. I felt inspired to write an update post and this time, I’m doing it not because I need to put my thoughts somewhere, but in case someone out there in the world needs a little bit of understanding. Secondary Infertility is isolating. Secondary Infertility is lonely. Secondary infertility makes you different to the rest of your Mummy friends. Secondary Infertility is a confusing, guilt splattered, faith destroying rollercoaster of a journey that tortures you, flashing visions of your aspirations and desires everywhere you have to take your child and that can shatter your enjoyment of what you already have. I hear your cries and I hold your hand. It has been my demon for 3 and a half years until I chose not to dance with it anymore. I’m still not pregnant. I still find things hard at times. But I know I have all I wished for 10 years ago. I think I’ll focus on that for now. So hello blog and hey you guys. Wow, it feels weird typing away here again. It takes me back to a time when I was exhausted, anxious and metaphorically floating in zero gravity, not able to grasp on to anything. I just looked at my entries and I last posted in October 2014. A whole human gestation period. I could have grown a baby in that time. But I didn’t! Haha Bloody ha. I haven’t even checked in on you guys since then. Sorry. I hope it has been a good and joy filled time for you. I took time out of infertility. We went on a big holiday over Christmas. It was nourishment for the soul. On returning, normality resumed. Husband went back to work and Little One started back at school. Did I tell you about the first day of school? Oh man! What a moment. A moment I felt joy, celebration, pride, excitement and sadness about all at once. Sadness because my baby was off, taking her first steps into the big world without me and I didn’t know if I would get to do it again. So slap a little bit of self pity into that pile of emotion too. So my days have been quieter and emptier now that I’m no longer a full time mum to a preschooler. We spent a few months at the start of this year being quiet and still on TTC. We did nothing. We expected nothing. We got nothing; except, actually, a little bit of silence and rest from the noise and emotional chaos that has been around us for so long now. It was refreshing and I felt better than I had felt for quite some time. I got a job and now actually focus on something else a few days a week! It is blissful. When we felt ready to get back on the horse, so to speak, I saw my specialist again and had a laparoscopy done to determine if there was anything undetected. There was nothing. I don’t mean there were no ovaries or uterus. I just mean, again, all looked healthy and good. That means I’ve pretty much had every fertility test possible done and passed. Yay! Go me! I get a prize or something now, right? No. of course not! Because life is that harsh. Truth. But hey, really, I remember I’m being all positive and shit, so that’s great news. There really is still nothing stopping us getting pregnant (and we are going to book another holiday. Even more good news!). My specialist tells me ovulation induction is still a good option again for us. So another several hundred dollars and some needles down and yet another failed cycle. Ho hum. On a positive note, my periods are loads better since the laparoscopy. I can be out for more than an hour or two and not worry about where the nearest lavatory is! Every cloud and all that. I began to doubt if I had the patience or possibly faith, I’m not sure which, in ovulation induction and instead took some more time out and began to get my head in gear for IVF. However, dark clouds were gathering. And like that, two friends tell me they are pregnant with their third child. Third-fucking-child. Greedy mother f….. Seriously, I feel like I am being tested and tested and tested some more. I’ve counted up that I know of about 80 people who have become pregnant and had their baby OR BABIES in the time we have been trying. Some of those children are over two years old! Granted, some of these people I know are people I knew more than 15 years ago at school, now live on the other side of the world and I only see their lives through Facebook. But a handful are close friends that I have supported despite my own longing and pain. I’ve smiled and cooed at their newborn. I’ve taken their older child for them so they save some sanity. I’ve listened to how hard it is to have more than one child and how they didn’t realise how tough it would be. I’ve pushed their babies pushchair around the shopping mall to soothe them to sleep so they can try on just two more dresses. I’ve had their girls overnight because they are in desperate need of a date night. Surely, I’ve passed the bloody test?! My one pregnant friend is especially close, knowing all I go through on my journey. This makes it particularly hard for me and at this point in time I’d be lying if I said it’s not affected our friendship. Not because I’m not happy for her. I know that everyone deserves to have the family they want. But that’s exactly it! Everyone deserves the family they want, including me. So, I just need some space. But we will be good again, no doubts. Right now, on the eve of IVF, with the forms all ready to be signed by my specialist, I can not be there for my third time pregnant friend in the way I would like to be and have been to others before. It has taken me 3 and half years to reach the point I am at. I can not focus on anyone but me. I can not help her because I need to put myself first. I don’t want to meet for coffee in a park on my day off so her kids can run off steam. I don’t want to pop around whilst (not so little) Little One is at school, whilst her kids run around, screech at each other and come begging for another snack. I don’t want to hear about anyone else’s complete family today because I am being utterly selfish, staying emotionally level and focusing on completing MY family. It is MY turn. Offer me a catch up in a local bar with a glass of bubbles though, I’ll be there. No really, I have 3 priorities: I pledge to go to work and feel valued, enjoy time with the family I already have and feel loved and, get pregnant and feel the amazing rush of new life inside my belly. I can’t bloody wait.

Why assume it’s me? Miracles do happen.

Have you noticed that I talk a lot about me? This blog is about my feelings. My thoughts. I don’t talk much about ‘we’, or ‘he’. He being the hubster. He is the most amazing man by the way. He sees the world in black and white, and is misunderstood by others sometimes but that is because he is pretty deep, and very thoughtful and spends a lot of time wandering around inside that beautiful head of his. He is also the most loyal, clever and balanced person and his opinion and thoughts on anything are extremely important to me. If he says our world is OK, I instantly feel lighter and safer. We are definitely ‘we’. We are open (not in a sharing each other kinda way, just to clear), and support and love each other. Big time. Compromise and understanding are key features of our relationship. It also helps that I find him a proper hottie.

During this infertility journey we have travelled a bit more separately than we would have liked at times. Thankfully, those times haven’t lasted too long usually ended up with a meltdown from yours truly, followed by cuddles and reassurance. Still, it has been testing. Infertility is tough on the relationship of any mother and father in waiting.

There have been times where I have felt alone in the first few days of a cycle. That heartbreak and disappointment are mine only. I have always known this isn’t true, but when in the hormonal dark cloud, I get these feelings, isolating myself. We experience those times very differently, and although I think he moves on quicker to look towards the next month, I know he hurts each month as we learn we won’t be seeing our future child on a scan monitor.

Hubster is also a believer. He believes we will hold that second baby at some point, and is more than happy to take whatever steps we need to, whenever I am ready. I’m far more emotional about this baby, and experience the belief too but also the angry, feet stamping moments when I don’t get my own way! This has no reflection on how much either of us want this child. We just deal with it differently.

The age gap isn’t so much an issue for him as it is for me either. He is more accepting of the fact there will be a large gap, and doesn’t feel bitter about our forced wait. Unlike me. As long as we get there he says. As long as we get there …

For two years we have focused on my wellbeing, body and emotional. For two years we have tracked my cycles, searching for an answer for the monthly disappointment. For two years we have paid thousands of dollars for me to see Miss Acupuncture so she can balance and enhance my reproductive system. For two years this amazing man has taken my tears and wiped them away, listened to my torment even though it kills him inside that he can’t make it go away and been the constant balanced and logical one in our house. I don’t thank him enough.

However, despite all of that, we have never shined the spotlight on him. Selfishly I have been all ‘why me?’ Hell, I should be saying why us? How are you feeling about this today honey? Does your body feel in balance? Do you think we need to enhance your swimmers? I’m not looking to point the finger here. But making a baby is a 50/50 thing. We both need to of optimum health.

Now, I know I write all about my feelings around this subject, rather than the numbers of test results, but here comes the science part. Well, sort of … Apparently, 80% of Unexplained Infertility cases are due to High Sperm DNA damage. So I read the other day. What the …? What is this? What causes it, and is hubster in a risk category for this? Why haven’t we come across this before? He had a sperm analysis and all looked hunky dory. Well acceptable at least, but this damage is something that isn’t tested on a normal analysis, so even when a SA looks good there can still be a problem. If it is true that 80% of Unexplained IF is down to this specific issue, why isn’t this something we have been guided to getting tested for as nothing else has come up as an explanation? If I’m honest, I think our situation will be something in the other 20% as I have had issues with spotting and long cycles. Maybe I’m clutching at straws to get an answer but maybe it is still worth doing the extra test to rule DNA damage out anyway?

I also read that most unexplained cases of infertility result in a pregnancy eventually. Eventually. Yep, well, that doesn’t feel like much of a guarantee when I am rapidly approaching the edge of dreaded mid 30’s fertility cliff. This same article I read said 6 to 7 years can be the time frame for most Unexplained IF couples to achieve a pregnancy. It’s good to know most of us can get pregnant, but for goodness sake, another 5 years of this. Cue stomping feet! I think I will stick with our plan to move this thing along a bit quicker.

I am still all over the positive thinking and believing as I creep towards the end of the first week of the TWW.

Case Study 1: I know a lady who had unprotected sex for 9 years before she fell pregnant. No intervention. Had a lovely, healthy, beautiful baby. Continued having unprotected sex after the baby was born too, but never fell pregnant again. Not a great story for me, wanting to get pregnant for a second time, but the point is miracles do happen. Let’s focus on that! Note to self: Think about contacting this person to find out how she was able to let fate decide the size of her family.

Case Study 2: Some good, good friends of ours had unprotected sex for 8 years. One miscarriage in that time, no intervention at all and recently, one beautiful baby. Again, miracles do happen.

Bodies are amazing things, and just because I am two years into a journey where each month has ended in disappointment, doesn’t mean next month will. Miracles do happen.

Daring to dream

I haven’t been here for a week or so. It’s been a little busy, but also I just let go. It has been quite novel. I have felt lighter, like a weight has been lifted, and mentally I just feel … I don’t know; maybe less claustrophobic. I’m not sure whether this is down to strong mental strength, or if I just don’t have the energy to harbour all the negative feelings anymore. Have you noticed how draining it is to feel and think negatively? It is so heavy.

My husband and Little One have been at the forefront of my mind lately. This is what is important. That’s not to say extending our family isn’t. Hell, it is desperately important to me. But the hubster and Little One, well, they are here. Right now. With me. Loving me. Needing me. Isn’t this what I want? I always wanted to be a mother. I have a ridiculous maternal streak. I always wanted to be a family. I have that. Infertility has taken my focus away from what I asked for, and what I was given. And oh, how in love with them I am.

In my last post, I talked about focusing on the positives and what our lives will look like (at some point) in the future. I could write a long list about the positives of my life right now. Des.Per.Ate.Ly. Trying. Not. To. Put. In. A. Caveat… And for the future, I can see me holding a newborn, with my husband and my (not so little) daughter smiling down at the baby. I see my daughter helping me feed and change this new little one. I can sense the love between them. I see two car seats in the back seat. I see a newly decorated nursery. I hear giggles as my daughter tickles and coos over her sibling. I feel warm and fuzzy about watching my husband carry this baby, confident and strong and comforting. I feel the joy of soaking up that newborn smell, of being the only person who can stop this baby crying. For the first time in years, I can feel this will happen. I can almost touch the image again it feels so possible. I’m not afraid to dream anymore. The disappointment hurts whether you dare to dream or not.

I’m not naïve. I know that for all the believing in the world, the facts remain that we have not got pregnant in two years of trying. Well timed trying. And statistically, the longer time goes on the odds are against us. If the universe doesn’t answer my call, well … let’s not think about that too much right now. But let’s just say this: I will always have loved the second little person in our lives, whether they make their journey to us or not. Whether through dreaming of them or through the reality of holding them close. When I look back on my life in my final moments one day, I will be able to say no regrets. I tried. I gave it everything. And I wanted and loved with all my heart.

So, the decision is that we will do IVF. I’m not sure when exactly, as I think I want to give clomid another shot or two, so timing is still flexible and I’m yet to talk to my Dr about this. Yes, I wanted to get pregnant naturally, but ultimately, we want a baby. I think this a huge step forward for me to get to this point, and it feels good to have given myself another option for making this happen. We want to be complete. We want the dream.

 

The Law of Attraction

It will be ...

It will be …

I read an affirmation card today at my Acupuncture appointment. It said something that spoke loudly to me … ‘Pushing too hard for something only pushes it further away. Ask for it and then let go.’

Considering the conversation I had just had with Miss Acupuncture, I felt like I was getting a clear message about what I need to do.

Let go. Want something, but let it come to you. Maybe it’s a bit like being that desperate teen girl, who has a major crush on some poor lad, and chases it so hard that she actually sends the boy running in the opposite direction. Come on, we have all done it! Perhaps my infertility is one of those situations where letting emotions get the better of me stops me beating it. Like quick sand, I’ve been fighting with frustration and only sinking.

If you have read my last few posts, you will know that I’m working on accepting our situation, creating a plan and opening my mind to different paths on our quest to complete this journey somehow. I had a fantastic cycle last month that didn’t result in a pregnancy, but did result in the birth of a new me I suppose you could say. The last few days though, I have felt a bit defeated. I was feeling like I was accepting our situation, which is good, but that I was just getting negative thoughts about not seeing the future I wanted. I was kinda giving in to the infertility, rather than accepting and opening the gates to new places. I guess I’m a bit stuck at the opening my mind stage.

Miss Acupuncture told me I have a strong mind. Not to blow my own trumpet too much, but I think she is right. I have always been stoic, but in touch with my emotions. I have always been able to deal with stressful situations calmly and logically. I have always been good at coaching myself through difficulties. My inner voice was always firm but kind; wise and helpful. I realise now that 2 years ago this changed. We went through something very stressful (which I don’t write about here, and I apologise if this makes it difficult for you to understand my story completely, but it opens up a whole other can of worms), and I think this somehow altered the way my mind works. I’m only realising now, that perhaps my inner voice, which has always been my guide, turned on me. Miss Acupuncture reckons it would be a massive help to turn my powerful mind back around to help me once again.

The Law of Attraction is a theory that basically says your thoughts become realities. Positive thinking brings positive things to your life, and negative thinking brings negative things to your life. So essentially, desperately wanting this baby but focusing on the emptiness, the worry of how this effects Little One, the fear of a forever empty womb and the panic of passing time means that I am attracting emptiness, negative effects on Little One, an empty womb and encouraging even more time to pass. I like this theory. It’s simple. It means I can do something positive to help us. I just need to re-train myself to think a different way. I need to want a baby but not let frustration, tears and anger control my thoughts. I need to enjoy the now. I need to look forward to a bump and an extended family. I need to let future possibilities, not future failures, take my mind wandering.

I remember when we going to start trying for Little One, I was concerned about my long cycles and what that might been fertility wise. I knew I was ovulating, due to charting and OPKs but I was a little worried that something was wrong. We tried for a couple of months, a possible failed implantation (spotting at 7DPO) but no pregnancy. And do you know what my inner voice said to me then. It said this: “We will have a baby. We will give it a year and if we aren’t pregnant by then, we will see someone and they will get us pregnant.” I replied with a relaxed exhale of air, imagined myself with a baby (at some point, no time restraints) and enjoyed trying to make a baby at the right times. I was too OCD to give up charting. The point is, I asked, I believed and we took the opportunity the next month. And then, ta da, pregnant.

I need to ask for another baby. I need to believe I will have another baby. I need to take the opportunities that come our way.

Stage 4: Project our future reality through thoughts and visualisations.

Making plans, albeit temporary

So, Clomid round 2 was unsuccessful. We were disappointed as it was another Clomid round with B6 to support progesterone (only 2 days spotting before my period arrived), acupuncture, a lot of baby making sex in the fertile time, and I was really relaxed all cycle. Timing was perfect. If I can get pregnant naturally surely this month should have been the one? My emotional state was a big positive to take from this cycle. I felt really level during the whole two week wait. I think this is because I was feeling accepting of our situation. Getting pregnant is not something I am good at. Feeling in control emotionally makes the weight of infertility a little bit easier to carry. It’s not lighter. I’m just stronger.

So, cycle day 1 arrived and I asked Hubby, “Where do we go next?’ We talked about how I wonder what it will take to change the outcome each month. Hubby is able to see the glass half full, and his reasoning goes along the lines of, “Our tests have come back fine, we just need to get the month where everything just slots in place.” I guess I see the glass half empty or maybe I think more deeply or realistically about it all, because I see 21 failed cycles and can’t see why things would suddenly just work. We have tried numerous things hoping they would give us that extra percent in our chances of conception: honey, vitamins, acupuncture and herbs, diet changes, holidays for relaxation, exercise regime changes and lastly Clomid. I think that one disappoints me the most. I thought that would be THE thing.

After Clomid, the next step is to escalate things and see a fertility specialist. I’m not against this. There are pros, I know. We might find out what the ‘unexplained’ issue actually is, we might actually get some interest from that Dr and most importantly, we might get our complete family. But I’m afraid and melancholy too. As I’ve warbled on about in the last few posts, I am accepting. I really am. But accepting this is what we need to do is also upsetting. Hanging up my natural fertility and asking for help makes me feel sad, and I know it’s OK and that I’m not a failure but I’m still sad to see it go. I’m also afraid because we will take a step closer to the end. It will be so strange to put this era behind us in some ways. Infertility is familiar. I want to be finished with trying to conceive, but putting the lid on that without a baby is a lot scary. If we go on and try maybe IVF and it doesn’t work, well, I will be devastated. It will feel like the end of the road for having our second own biological child, and so I’m afraid to move on to IVF soon because there is nowhere else to go after that. That will be all our ammunition used up. Obviously if it works for us – AMAZING! It’s one of those jumps in life you take that will give you all or nothing. I think I will need to get my headspace to the place where I can jump with total faith.

The other weird thing, is that if we finally get pregnant, we will definitely be done and that will be a peculiar place to be after years of wanting children. I couldn’t ‘want’ to try again and then fail over and over and go through the pain, the hope/disappointment rollercoaster and the distraction. I couldn’t do this again. I guess even though we are living with the uncertainty of what our future family will look like, I must feel that someone is coming, that we are waiting to greet them and that there is another dimension to add. Maybe I’m just not ready to move on from here yet? If this is true, it is subconscious that’s for sure.

For the time being (this may change; as we all know, it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind) we have decided to do another 2 months on Clomid, which will take us pretty much up to 24 months TTC. By that point I think if we are going to do it naturally we would have done, and we will know the Clomid alone isn’t addressing our ‘unexplained’ issues. At that point I think that we will need to seek further intervention, or a second opinion or some new advice at the very least. This is the plan. For now.

Stage 1: Accept

Stage 2: Open the mind

Stage 3: Make a plan

Dear Lost Fertility …

Oh, how I grieve for you. I spent a lot of time in denial. I was isolated. I spent a lot of time feeling angry. I was angry at you for leaving, and angry at my friends who frolicked in the knowledge their fertility was still with them. I spent a lot of time feeling sad. I was sad I couldn’t be where I wanted to be in my life plan. I am working on accepting. Not everybody who is grieving reaches acceptance. I hope I can. I want to reach a place where I can be thankful for the time we had.

 

There are two things I am grieving. It only occurred to me recently, and I can’t believe it has taken this long to realise that the grief of infertility is two-fold. I grieve for the child we have yet to conceive, and the possible ones that never managed to hold on to even be validated with a pregnancy test. I have known this throughout the journey, but what suddenly became clear to me, is that I grieve for my lost fertility.

I have found it difficult to accept that we are not fertile or not very fertile anyway. I’m starting out on the road to recovering from that, hence my last post titled ‘Accepting’. I found it humiliating to go from someone in the fertile gang, to being cast out in the dark. Alone. Infertile. Slowly, but surely, as my eyes adjust to the dark and I accept where I am, I see you. I see that I am not alone.

With lost fertility, comes a feeling of failure. That something has left me before I’m ready to be done with it. Stupid me. Did I let it go? If feels typical that I have to endure this. The story of life seems to be a series of almosts. Nearly theres. If I’d just tried a bit harders. The reality is my life story is one of success. Sure, I could have got further with certain things at certain times, but this is a criticism that only I make. I know I do pretty well. But my lost fertility is my biggest almost. My biggest nearly there. My loudest “If I just try a bit harder.” Jeez, I’m really not good with feeling a sense of failure!

My family is almost complete. One more child, and I will happily hand over my fertility. I feel greedy. I feel like I’m pushing my luck asking for more, so I put in this aside: after this one, I won’t ask for anymore, I promise! I feel like we have had so many ‘nearly there’ pregnancies, only to start spotting heavily and then get my period. I have asked myself 21 times to try a little bit harder, but never tried hard enough (the proof is in the pudding as they say, and there has been no pudding).

I assumed I would have another child. I assumed it would be easy. Much time has been focused on this image I once believed to be concrete. Set in stone. That image involved me pregnant, naturally, with an average sibling age gap. I need to let this image go, and replace it with something more fluid. I need to be open to other possibilities. Whether we use it or not, I need to open my mind to the fact we may need help to become pregnant naturally, and that is OK. Not creating life the traditional way has no impact on us as parents. I need to open my mind to a sibling age gap of any length, and that too, is OK. I need to open my mind to the fact we may never overcome this whatever assistance we take, and that having another biological child is not going to happen. Ouch! I can feel a little tear pricking my left eye, and the burning in my throat. I’m not OK with that yet. But this is stage two.

Stage 1: Accept

Stage 2: Open your mind to different life paths.