Hi all, I want to share my story not only to get it off my chest to people I don’t have to see in the street but also to help other people in the same Situation.
It all started when I was 17, I fell pregnant on the pill, and was upset to say the least when that little blue line showed up, after a couple of days I began to love the little life inside of me, and decided that it was meant to be, I had always loved the idea of becoming a mother just not so young.
I passed the 12 week stage, and began to become very excited, picking names, wallpapers etc.
At 14 weeks I started bleeding, my mum took me to the hospital with my then fiancé, and they took me straight for a scan, sadly the baby had already gone to heaven, I couldn’t even look at the screen, I was completely heartbroken…
A couple of months passed and I tried to get “over” the loss of my baby, the only thing that I felt could repair the gap in my heart was to have a child. So at the tender age of almost 18 I embarked on a journey to replace the “baby” I had never held in my arms.
After a couple of years of trying, I visited my gp, I wasn’t eligible for ivf as I was too young at 20 and plus I had been pregnant before and there were no obvious problems. My relationship in turn broke down and we parted ways.
The pain of not having a child never left me and when I met my now husband at 22, I was eager to try again for a much longed for child.
After another 2 years of unsuccessful trying I visited a private doctor, who informed me that I had PCOS (polysystic ovary syndrome) which meant that my hormones were everywhere, and that it would be difficult to conceive without help.
I cried for months afterwards and felt like a complete failure as a wife and a woman.
The doctor suggested I tried a pill called clomid, which I eagerly accepted. 6 months passed of having my blood taken twice a month, and nothing, by this point I was reaching devastation.
I held pregnancy tests up to the lights just in case it wasn’t clearly visable, threw them in the bin and then ran back every 2 minutes just in case the result had changed..I wasn’t in a good place..
Exactly 7 months after I started clomid at the age of 26, 9 years after my miscarriage, I finally got a positive pregnancy test, I was ecstatic!! I just kept on staring at it in disbelief..I was going to be a mummy!!!
I went for a scan straight away, I was only 5 weeks but the doctor wanted to make sure everything was ok. I saw a tiny black dot on the screen, for anyone else it was hardly visable, but for me it was instant love.
Sadly 10 days later, I suffered another miscarriage, now my heart was broken in 2 places.
I stopped all my medication and decided to put having a baby out of my mind, everyone famously says “it’ll arrive when you least expect it” can I just add that I HATE that saying and have heard it so many times..
I decided to go back to the hospital at 28, and see about ivf, and was over the moon when they said I qualified.
A year later I started my injections, and went to the hospital to have my eggs removed to see if any were good to be fertilised. Out of 7, 6 were perfect, and they fertilised them with my husbands sperm. We had to wait a long 2 days to see if any had fertilised and when the phone rang early morning to tell me that all 6 had fertilised I was jumping for joy. I had a smile on my face the whole way to the hospital, thinking of my little fertilised eggs that were ready to be put inside me. The famous 2 week wait was so awful, I didn’t know how to act, they tell you to put it out of your mind but it’s impossible. I tested early..negative…I tested on the day they told me and still negative. It hadn’t worked, I tried to compose myself and console myself that there would be a next time as I had 5 eggs left that would be frozen.
I didn’t start my frozen cycle of ivf until a year later, I have to say that by then I was much more relaxed, I’d given up hope I suppose. This time the injections were much more gruelling and I found it more stressful than exciting. The night before I had my eggs implanted my grandfather passed away, exactly 4 months after my granny had also left us. I was devastated, but knew that stress would not help the process that I was ready to go through, and so I held back my emotions and got on with it.
Again the 2 week wait was very emotional, partly because of my grandad and partly because I knew that at the end of the 2 weeks if my test was negative, any glimmer of hope that I would have had would have gone.
The test was negative.
Now here I am 31, 15 years after I had my first miscarriage, still childless, but I have peace.
I won’t give up the fight to have a child, but I’ve come to realise that to be a mother isn’t just a physical thing, i can be a mother without physically carrying a child. I can help a child who is an orphan, or in trouble. I am now looking into adoption, to see if I can finally realise my dream of becoming a mother…this story isn’t over yet…I’ll leave you with a “to be continued”