Impossible Voyage for a Family

I know this will be a hard one to write, it was the basis for a lot of my hurt for a long time but I also recognise it’s in the past.  For many, getting pregnant and having a family is easy but for others it’s difficult and for some like me it just doesn’t happen for a number of reasons.  It’s a hidden sadness, you are reluctant to share that you are trying because too many well meaning people ask each time they see you ‘any news yet?’.  They mean well but each time they ask it’s another little dagger stabbing at you and reminding you that the one thing your female body is supposed to be able to do just can’t and that misplaced sense of failure wells up again.  So you don’t share the information, you keep it secret.  That isn’t helpful either, you compound the physical issues with mental secrecy.We knew early on we’d need some help and the sale of the house was supposed to raise the money to pay for IVF but thanks to the house being repossessed we were left with nothing.  IVF isn’t cheap and getting it on the NHS is almost impossible.  I totally get that budgets are limited and IVF isn’t exactly a medical emergency but it doesn’t stop it hurting.  However, I went from a situation of thinking there would be enough for about 5 rounds of treatment to a zero bank balance and homeless in one day. That was a lot to take in.  There are aspects of that time that I don’t remember, it’s as if time froze around me.  All those hopes and dreams were wiped away with a single phone call.  Everything was thrown into chaos in my mind, I had to deal with the practical reality of losing a home and the paperwork that entailed and also get my head around the emotional loss that the consequences of his actions created, that dark sense of loss.  That black, empty hole where once hope resided had been taken from me.  Hope had gone, and when you don’t have hope everything feels empty.  I didn’t mind about the house so much as what we’d agreed that the money would be used for and yet all the while knowing it wasn’t there.  He let me phone clinic after clinic around the country to find the best treatments to decide where to move to all the while knowing it was a lie and that the money wasn’t there to pay for it.  He even made some initial appointments with me to see clinics all the while knowing it would never happen.  That’s why I can’t forgive about the house loss, it was never about money, it was about what we’d agreed as a couple and the lying is the cruncher.

I had always assumed like most that you get married and the babies would just follow in time, didn’t occur to me it wouldn’t happen like that.  The mix up started very early on, I read some notes at the Doctor’s years ago that said I would have problems conceiving – but the test was wrong.  It’s only years later when I decided to go it alone that I was told that actually I was very fertile.  They harvested 11 A grade eggs in one cycle which apparently was unheard of, they were normally happy to get 2 or 3 so were slightly shocked at getting that many and they were all viable, again something that apparently didn’t normally happen.  So for years I’d carried this misinformation so had always assumed it was somehow my fault.  Finding out it wasn’t me was like a sucker punch on top of everything else that had happened, up till then I could sort of accept things but that was a wicked devil blow to my fragile emotional state.

I know I was pregnant with twins twice, they show you the screen with the embryos implanted so I knew exactly the time and date I was pregnant.  Sadly my body didn’t want to carry them and both times I lost them in early miscarriages.  Trying to be matter of fact about it is incredibly hard, you rationalise as best you can, you try to cling onto some small hope but the reality is there is very little and your world is cold and empty at the loss of what might have been.

To those that know this dark place you have my empathy, you can’t really talk about it to anyone.  To many that are trying to conceive you have early miscarriages but don’t necessarily know you were pregnant whereas I knew for definite I was.  The clinic are sadly used to it and they just say well come and see us in two months when you feel ready to try again.  And you try to get back onto the rollercoaster of drugs, injections and constant appointments.  Your life becomes regimented around a diary of appointments and coming up with excuses at work as to why you are yet again going to be a bit late gets hard work because you don’t really want to share where you’re really going.  And then time caught up with me and I had to get off the rollercoaster with 5 remaining frozen embryos destroyed as the health laws demand.  Having to walk away is hard but time isn’t always on the side of the female body and you have to recognise that however much the rollercoaster says come back, try just one more time you’ve run out of ride tickets.

I don’t know what kind of parent I’d have made, probably a very silly one who made dens under the dining table and turned spaghetti into stories of worms and naughty centipedes.  I’ll never know, but I do know I have to forgive myself for the hurt I’ve carried for far too long.  It’s taken a long time and some amazing counsellors to get me to today, yes there are days when I wonder what if but the reality is I’ve left that behind now.  Had it worked out great, and I’d probably be blogging about my idiot kids that were driving me nuts instead!

Quirky x

One thought on “Impossible Voyage for a Family

  1. “…having a family is easy but for others it’s difficult and for some like me it just doesn’t happen for a number of reasons.  It’s a hidden sadness, you are reluctant to share…”

    Having a family was all I ever really wanted…and yet there were choices I made that undermined what I said I wanted. In many respects, I didn’t believe I deserve a family.

    The story hit me really hard. Thank you for your vulnerability.


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