I just wish I could click my fingers and be pregnant. One more click and I have my baby in my arms.
Or a stork? God I wish there were storks. I think they’d give me a good one.
It hasn’t been the best couple of days for me. If you’ve read my last post, that won’t exactly come as a surprise. I probably post a bit too hastily at times, but I think it shows the ups and downs of TTC. Some days are definitely more shitty than others.
I had a bit of a cry last night. I don’t really know where it came from. One minute I was eating a burrito and watching Hells Kitchen and the next I was bawling my eyes out.
We have a few wedding pictures up around the house (perfectly normal of course) but when I get my bad days, I always find them hard to look at. I was 10 weeks pregnant then and part of me hates how perfect everything was. I looked at them last night, thinking how much of our life changed in an instant. One morning our baby was there and only a few hours later…. gone. Just like that. How do you ever accept that?
I had the whole self doubt thing happen again. Thinking that the problem obviously lies with me, seeing as my husband already has a son. Thinking that I can’t picture myself being pregnant again. I can’t imagine giving birth. I can’t imagine being a mum.
I started googling all the different ways to help with fertility (which I’m sure I’ve already done 1000 times) – checked the things I should and shouldn’t be doing, but realised I’m already doing everything! I drink red wine sometimes. Very moderately i’d say – probably around 3 glasses a week . I’ve decided to stop altogether. Maybe it’ll make a difference, maybe it won’t. I mean, you do hear about a lot of people getting knocked up when they were shit faced on vodka. (Just look at Katherine Heigl eh?)
Anyway.. that was last night and this is tonight. Tonight is better.
I’m slap bang in the middle of my fertile week again – according to my app, my CM AND ovulation tests (yes I’m on them again) – I haven’t ovulated yet. I think it should be around Monday so I’m expecting a positive soon..
I bought the cheapy OPKs off eBay. 20 sticks for £2.50 (which if I wanna try be multi national is prob around $4 USD – I have no idea the Canadian conversion)
Ok so slightly off topic there! We decided to try the testing again out of curiosity really. I have a pretty good idea of when I ovulate (or so I think) but we thought we’d try confirm it with these.
I actually dont feel under too much pressure this month to be honest. And I never had a freak out when AF turned up last time, which is a pretty HUGE deal for me.
Oh I’m now also waiting on results from an ultrasound scan. I have ovarian cysts and the doctors are hoping to rule out them as a factor in my miscarriages. They dont think its related but its just another thing to cross off I guess. It’s been 4 weeks so I’m getting slightly impatient mind you. But I’ll keep you all posted.
Things are good though.
I was out for dinner and drinks (a lot of drinks) on Saturday night with the husband, and his aunt and uncle. They’re both in their forties and are going through the adoption process at the minute.
They tried for a long time to have children of their own.. I think they had two or three failed IVF attempts and they mutually agreed to stop because the Clomid wasn’t doing my aunt any favours. I don’t know every detail because they don’t really discuss it a lot but im sure they’ve had to deal with miscarriage too.
I was always unsure about adoption. Not that I don’t think it’s it’s wonderful, selfless thing to do.. but I just wasn’t sure it was for me. Now though, I could see myself warming to the idea. Don’t get me wrong.. I want to continue trying naturally for a few more years, but if it came to it.. and it wasn’t happening for us – it’s something I would definitely consider.
I don’t know if the process is different in America, but here they’ve been able to pick their age group of “0-4”. They’ve been scrutinised for a long time – their jobs, their home, their relationship with each other and with other family members.. its been a long draining process for them I think.
Their final step is to go to a panel, then if they’re approved by them.. it’ll just be a waiting game. Once a child is best matched for them, they’ll be able to bring them home.
(Fostering to begin with, then eventually adoption).
My husband said how amazing it is that in a few months time there could be a new addition to our family.. a child out there somewhere that has no idea his or her life will change for the better. They’ll be with parents that will love them so much, and welcomed in to a family that knows how important they are. It really is a beautiful thing.
So far I’ve had sensitive, tingly nipples, the veins on my breasts look more prominent, I’ve been tired, ive been getting up at night to pee, I haven’t had any of my normal PMS symptoms and its felt ‘different’ during fun times with the husband. By different I mean deeper and sore at times. Sorry. I know it’s TMI, but it’s the biggest symptom for me.
So from that, I’m taking it that I’m pregnant. Hoping.
Of course.. these symptoms are probably all in my head and the red devil will turn up bang on time this week. Judging by my past luck, this is the most likely outcome. I also HATE that I’m even considering I might be pregnant. It makes it so much harder when it doesn’t happen.
Hate this bloody TWW.
I’ve not long entered the TWW stage – periods due in around 11-13 days (I’m usually 28-30 but rarely consistent which makes it hard to pinpoint exact ovulation date)
I use a pretty basic app to check my dates but it’s only an estimate and I rely on CM the rest of the time – again; I’m never 100%, I just hope for the best if I’m honest.
Women who are actively trying or struggling know how frustrating the TWW (two week wait) can be.. it just seems to go on and on…and on and on.. and on!
But – and I’m sure I’m not alone in this – its nothing compared to the FWW (four week wait). I’ve realised that the minute I get those cramps, or when I pee and theres a hint of red on the paper; when my period annoyingly arrives – I’m on my countdown.
Ok, so not pregnant… now what?
Countdown to Aunt Flow pissing off (sorry) taking with her the constant reminder of the fact I’m not pregnant.
Countdown to ovulation week which everyone tells us is supposed to be the fun part (listen, of course I have fun during the stuff, but there’s still all this underlying pressure).
Countdown to the week your due ‘on’ (eugh I hate that). Trying to read signs. Am I cramping? Am I emotional? How’s my skin looking? Am I craving chocolate (Hell, I’m ALWAYS craving chocolate)
Ok.. Period should be here now. I’m late. Good. Or is it? I’m not always regular. I’m getting my hopes up. I’m now 2 days late. Am I pregnant? 3 days late. Nope. Here she bloody is!!! (excuse the pun)
So i guess the countdown starts again.
I still have such vivid memories of the day that it terrifies me. Sometimes it’s all my mind will allow me to think about. The thoughts crop up every so often, and they’re almost always without warning. I could be watching the television, reading a book or even relaxing in a nice hot bubble bath then suddenly there it is – right at the forefront of my mind. It can feel like I’m watching a film, only I can’t stop it, can’t pause it and can never ever find the eject button.
Exactly one year ago today, I was on honeymoon in Cuba lying in a tiny strange medical centre having a miscarriage.
Today.. I’m in work – not pregnant, but having had yet another miscarriage .
I still sometimes can’t believe it’s been a whole year. A year and not a single day has passed where I haven’t thought about it, if even briefly.
I’m going to re-post my short story I wrote about this miscarriage. It was the sole reason I started this blog, and I’m reposting it as a kind of closure… I’m closing the book and looking to the future.
I hope if anyone hasn’t read the original post, they’ll take the time to do it now.
There’s a box in my living room that I’ve filled with our wedding mementos. It’s actually an old suitcase that we found at a vintage market and used it at the wedding as a place for guests to put their cards in, but It fits in perfectly with the decor in our living room. We have have vintage kind of thing going on.
Now it serves as a holder for said cards, the guestbook, my garter, a copy of the invitations, our vows, my hairband/tiara thing and some other little memories.
As a wedding gift, I bought my husband a pocket watch he’d been eyeing up in the kilt shop and had it engraved for him. I also got a little notepad as a private gift between us that contains; well, notes basically.
Notes like ’10 reasons why I love you’, Where I see us in 10 years’, ‘My favourite memory together’ and other equally as cute and romantic notes.
This tiny little 4″ x 4″ notepad is the sole reason why I don’t look in the wedding box anymore. Until today.
I had to put something inside it today and me being me, just couldn’t stop myself from looking at the notepad. ‘Forever Young’ by Audra Mae was playing in the background (I always have music playing while I tidy, and it was stupidly on shuffle today so it never skipped by the emotional ones) and I started to cry. I tried in vain to stop – I had just applied my make up for work so I mean I really tried to stop
There was notes about how my husband was such a good father and he was going to be a brilliant one again to our little one. How we had everything we ever wanted, and life was pretty much perfect. We used to call the baby lentil (because he/she is the size of a lentil at a certain point of pregnancy – I’ve seen a few other people do this), so there was a mention of how I love that he would do anything for me, Kian and lentil. Just seeing that word broke my heart. Lentil. We never named our baby as the loss was at 12 weeks, but it’s almost like Lentil became it’s name so seeing it written down, it just made everything so real again.
Next week will be 1 year since we lost the little one and although I am in a much better place now, I can’t ever see myself being completely okay. I’ll always have the ‘should’ve been’ dates in my mind and I’ll always wonder why it had to happen.
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.