I was happily walking to work on Sunday afternoon with my music on shuffle when my ‘first dance’ song came on. It immediately took me back to the wedding. 25th January last year. The happiest day of my life.
I could picture me walking down the aisle. A string quartet version of Eric Claptons Wonderful Tonight was playing as I made my way down to meet Nikki. Seeing him at the end of the aisle, just waiting for me to arrive. Only a handful of people knowing I was pregnant. Being so excited thinking that Kian was going to announce it after our vows. But only a few weeks later everything had fell apart.
Although I’m in a far better place now – even after yet another miscarriage – there’s still a part of me that’s broken. I hope one day I’ll be able to think back to my wedding and not feel that tinge of sadness. It shouldn’t be like that. My wedding and my honeymoon both sometimes remind me of a shitty time and it’s so frustrating. I mean, my wedding was PERFECT. It could not have went any better, yet there’s still that bit of negativity surrounding the memories.
I just want to be able to listen to our song and smile again.
I had my appointment at the doctors yesterday.
I gave her the bottle and she looked at what she so lovingly referred to as ‘my specimen’. She didn’t look at me or feel my stomach or take a blood test. She didn’t take my blood pressure or even a bloody pregnancy test. She said it was most likely another miscarriage and the best thing would be to take a test when I got home. She said she would refer me to a specialist. I told her I’ve already been to a specialist (this was after my honeymoon loss). She either never heard me or chose to disregard what I said as she went ahead and referred me anyway, then sent me on my merry way.
When I got home, I took a pregnancy test like she suggested.
It was positive.
I’d spent the best part of a year waiting to see those two lines, and now in some horrible twist of fate – it was the worst thing I could’ve seen.
I thought my period came a few days ago, but now I’m not so sure.
Last night at work I felt something kind of just sitting in my underwear. When I went to the toilet to check my sanitary towel, I noticed something. Something that looked like tissue. I don’t know what it was, but I know it wasn’t just a period. I had cramps that disappeared almost immediately – same as last time. I took whatever it was that I passed and placed it in a urine sample bottle I pinched from work. Maybe the doctor would know more.
I have an appointment tomorrow so I’ll find out for sure then. It’ll be my 3rd miscarriage if it is. So that’s one at home when I was 19, one on honeymoon in Cuba and one at work. 1 day before my birthday.
I should really pinch myself to make sure all this wonderfulness isn’t a dream.
5 days late and what do I get? My fucking period. I stupidly got my hopes up because that’s all I seem to do these days and now I feel like shit. I swear I’m never taking another pregnancy test until I feel a baby kicking. It’s my birthday on Saturday and I kind of hoped I would get a positive and it’d be a special birthday present to myself. Sad, I know.
It’s nearly a year since I last fell pregnant and I feel so frustrated with myself and my body. I didn’t even try last time.
I feel like crying. I am crying. Stupid bloody hormones.
It was my nieces 1st birthday party on Sunday and I can honestly say I was really looking forward to it all week. She’s at the age now where she kind of understands what’s going on around her and she gets super excited when she sees something she likes. She does this cute little thing with her hands, like shaking them with excitement and its insanely adorable.
The Saturday before the party I worked a 10hour shift in a care home. I got home at half 10 at night then had to be up again at 6am for another full shift. Straight from work I’d arrived at the party and I was bloody exhausted. Physically and mentally. My works pretty draining.
The house was filled with people – it just seemed so busy, so confined. After the gift giving (which incidentally, was as good as I’d hoped/imagined) I kind of just wanted to go. I wanted to be home. I had this huge feeling of sadness come over me. This was a huge milestone in my nieces life and I realised I was never going to experience something like that with my baby. They would never have a first birthday. Or a first Christmas. First day of school. They would have nothing. They aren’t even here anymore.
It was a shitty day.
I’m coming to the end of my TWW (that’s two week wait to those who don’t know. And if you didn’t know that, you’re either perfectly sane or you’ve only recently joined the crazy ladies of the TTC group. That’s ‘trying to conceive’ by the way. Jesus, we love our acronyms.
I’m due either tomorrow or Friday and I’ve been trying not to think about it too much – she says while blogging about it. I don’t feel pregnant, but then I didn’t really feel pregnant any other time either. I’ve been using an app to track my cycle and according to that my PMS should well have kicked in by now, but I’m surprisingly calm and laidback – normally I admittedly can get a little unhinged. So that’s a good sign right? Is it a bad sign? Is it even a sign? Am I clutching?
All I hear is that I shouldn’t worry because I’ve got pregnant before, but how does that help? Yeah I’ve been pregnant, but I’ve never carried a baby to term so obviously something isn’t right. It’s been 8 months since my miscarriage. Time keeps moving, and the more it does the less I believe this journey will end the way I want it to.
I just can’t shake this feeling that somethings wrong and it’s not going to happen for me.