I arrived home yesterday from my trip to Paris with the hubby. I’m still not pregnant – I know this because I got my period 3 days early while we were away. I have to just get that out the way straightaway. I’m gutted obviously BUT..and this is huge thing for me.. I didn’t cry at being a total failure at getting pregnant. That’s the first month ever I think that I haven’t cried so it’s a mini victory I guess. I was more pissed off that I couldn’t have more “husband n wife” kind of fun to be honest!
Paris was good – I can’t say it was everything I expected because it wasn’t. Bits of it weren’t nice and I was pick pocketed as soon as we arrived (the boy gave us it back which is bizarre, but still.. it shook me up a little)
Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, The Catacombs, Pere Lachaise Cemetery and Disneyland were all what I was hoping for and more though. We walked around holding hands, taking embarrassing touristy selfies and just laughing. I never felt down about not being pregnant.. I thought about it of course; I always bloody think about it.. But I was okay. I was good.
I enjoyed glasses of red wine and rare steak (well, it was classed as medium by French standards – their rare is still mooing) and I didnt have to worry. I went on Space Mountain and Tower of Terror (and terrifying it was, believe me) and I knew I wasn’t risking anything. I couldnt have done any of that if I was pregnant! I’m starting to focus on positives now because there IS a positive side to not being pregnant and while it’s pretty miniscule, it’s important I try focus on it otherwise I’ll make myself crazy.
So I’m a little premature but between work and organising myself (I.e figuring out how to squeeze enough shoes and clothes and make up into tiny hand luggage) I doubt I’ll have time to blog before I go.
On the 25th January (Burns night to any fellow Scots out there) my husband and I will be celebrating our 1 year anniversary. Of course last year we were pregnant and excited and blablabla – we all know how that did NOT turn out. BUT! I am positive Nicola for the time being and I’m being positive about our future and about our upcoming 4 day trip to the city of luurrvveee (don’t worry I hate me too for saying that). PARIS!
We’re really trying to put the past behind us now. Not in a ‘forgetting what happened ‘ kinda way, just more like trying not to let it rule us.
So this trip is going to be a good trip. We’re going to be those annoying tourists and do annoying tourist things like go to the Louvre, Notre Dame, Catacombs, Eiffel Tower, Pete Lachaise and…. DISNEYLAND. (I’m 29 and not even slightly ashamed). We’re going to take loads of pictures, do loads of kissing, eat escargot and freshly baked croissants and maybe have some ‘grown-up’ fun (and actually for FUN because I won’t be TTC) and most importantly I WILL NOT CRY!!! Nope. I won’t.
Oh for anyone that is just dying to know how I’m getting on, I’ll be trying to upload some pics on my IG account if I get time. (You can search “sideshownikki” to get me)
I’ve spoken briefly about my frustration with the NHS in relation to my miscarriages and I think I should be more specific. Its mainly at my local GP’S attitude and staff than aren’t directly involved with my history. And I tend to be constantly angry at the R.A.H hospital by how I was treated by them during my 1st miscarriage at 21. (See my post ‘guilt’ for more detail on that one)
I had my appointment at the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital (Southern general – it’ll always be southern general to me)
Anyway.. the doctor and sister that seen me today were fantastic. I’d already met the sister when I was in for tests around 9months ago (9months, how horrendously ironic). They were both so understanding and sympathetic. I wasnt patronised or made to feel like it wasnt a big deal. They were genuine. And while I cried at least 4 times, I left feeling better… feeling listened to.
I never had further tests done as everything that could be tested already has been. Everything is negative. Or positive. I dunno.. it’s a good result. I’m basically a picture of health. I’ve just been unlucky. Three times.
Part of me hoped there was something – at least that way it could be treated. But I was assured that medically speaking its better this way.
The advice was just to keep trying. Stay positive. Do everything I’m already doing. It’s hard to see the light sometimes but I am going to keep going. I’ve only been fighting for a year and I know some of you have been fighting much longer. Your strength helps me keep going.
If anyone is delaying the tests, or scared to go for fear of discovering something they didn’t want to know – just go. The worst is fear of the unknown. Once you have some kind of answer, you can start to move on. I’m still going to feel like shit every now and then, I’m still going to be angry and frustrated. I’ll 100% still cry. But I’ll know that there’s nothing more I can or could ever have done. I know that when it’s my time.. I’ll have my baby.
(At least that’s the positivity I’m trying to lead with today!)
I have an appointment tomorrow with the recurrent miscarriage clinic. I officially suffer from “recurrent miscarriages”. I’ve just turned 29.. I hate that this is an issue for me. I find it so hard to stay positive sometimes. All my family and friends say “it’ll happen eventually. .when the time is right”
I guess that’s supposed to make me feel better, but I end up just nodding while seething on the inside; frustrated at their total lack of understanding.
A lot of women whose blogs I follow are now pregnant and admittedly I sometimes struggle reading the posts which makes me totally hate myself. (Btw if ur one of these women, please don’t take offence.. I am genuinely so happy for you and 99% of the time ur posts keep me going!)
People that know what I’m going through seem to feel the need to come and tell me about their neighbour/sister/daughter/cousin/niece who’s trying for her 7th baby or just announced she’s pregnant after she forgot to take her pill that one day. Eugh. Wtf is that?!
Anyway.. I’ll see what happens tomorrow. See what tests they’ll do, and what insensitive medical jargon they’ll say. I might even count how many times they tell me that i shouldnt worry.. “you’re still young!”