I’ve been trying to have a baby for over 4 years. In that time I’ve had 5 miscarriages (6 overall) and went through 2 attempts at IVF. I am still no closer to the end goal.
I’ve been pregnant in 4 different hospitals and 3 different countries. But shockingly I’ve yet to give birth in even one country.
I’ve injected myself around 70 times and used roughly 50 delightful little pessaries. I’ve used nasal sprays, tablets and needles to prepare myself for a pregnancy that ended too soon.
My weight has fluctuated and my trousers have went from perfectly fitting, to loose, to tight and back again.
I’ve snapped at my loved ones and judged strangers for being (in my emotional/irrational eyes) less deserving of a baby than me.
But…. it’s all about perspective right?
In those 4 years I’ve also travelled to 8 different countries with my favourite people. I’ve watched my husband become more successful and happy in his career and I myself have pursued a career that I genuinely love. I continue to grow closer to my stepson each day and I couldn’t be more proud of him.
I look around me and see unhappy couples having babies and living mundane, unhappy lives and I realise that I’m actually the lucky one. I might not have my own child yet, but I have all the love and excitement I could ever need.
2019 might bring a baby. But, then again it might not. And who cares?
I have everything I could ever need and I would never dream of trading lives with anyone else.