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!