It’s a date

Transfer number 3 booked for Thursday. I don’t have a time yet. I’m not sure how it works in other clinics, but mine gives me a 2 hour window. I’ll get a phone call on Thursday morning and they’ll give me a time to come in (with at least 2 hours notice)

I’ve started the pessaries, but I’ve been taking them the “other” way. I can’t think of a nice way of saying “up my bum”.

Last time I got thrush and my vagina was unbelievably painful, so I switched it up this time. Now the only physical side effect is a whole load of farts.

I’ve been really emotional (erratic is a more accurate description to be honest) and have been feeling a little overwhelmed. I’ve been trying to meditate more to counteract the hormones and it’s helping a little. I definitely feel more like “me” this time round.

*update* I’ve text my brother a few times. I’m not ready to see him yet, but I am making an effort to keep communication open

Oh, Brother

My brother phoned me a few minutes ago to tell me his girlfriend was pregnant.

I burst in to tears, muttered congratulations, told him I had to go and immediately hung up.

2 days before my scan and this is the phone call I get. While I’m fucking full of hormones.

It’s a reaction I haven’t experienced in so long and to be honest I’m annoyed at myself for reacting the way I did. But I can’t lie to myself. I thought it didn’t hurt as much anymore, but I guess I was wrong.

I always imagined going shopping with my mum while she browsed the rails for clothes for her first grandchild. I pictured her excitedly telling her workmates that her first grandchild was due in a few months. I love that she gets to do all this, it just hurts that it won’t be my baby she’s talking about. I know what you’re thinking; who needs a baby with me around ay?

I’m jealous. It’s horrible to admit but it’s true. It’s a shitty emotion and one that’s almost impossible to hide. How am I going to face him and act okay?

They’ve been together about a week (I’m exaggerating and being childish of course) And here’s me – married for nearly 5 years and painfully and frustratingly trying to have a baby for most of that time to no avail.

It sucks. There’s no other way to describe it. Or maybe there is? It’s shitty. It’s unfair. It hurts. It makes me feel things I hate feeling. It makes me feel like a bad person. Like a bad friend. Like a bad sister.

I know it will pass and I will be happy for them. Of course I will. I just need one night to be a little bit of a dickhead.

The Secret

I’ve been reading “The Secret” recently and I am in no means exaggerating when I say it’s changed (and changing) my life.

If you haven’t read it, I won’t go in to too much detail but it essentially tells you how your thoughts are so powerful and they become your reality. It’s through reading this that I realised how negative I’ve been over the past few years. Even thoughts like “I don’t want to be late” can be construed as negative.

I’ve been crippled with self doubt and low self esteem and it largely stems from experiencing so many losses. But recently I’ve been making changes. Hubby bought me a mini journal and I’ve been writing positive thoughts in it and reading it every day. I’ve been looking at my body and telling myself I look amazing. Why is it, that as women we’re not allowed to do that? That if you’re proud of your body, or you compliment yourself – people don’t seem to like it? I think you should all try it. Write down positive notes to yourself and read them every day for 2 weeks and see how you feel after it?

My confidence has grown (I’m still a work in progress) and I feel so much more relaxed and positive. I’m not getting stressed and anxious about as many things any more. I remind myself every day of what I’m grateful for and I really do believe I’ll achieve anything I want to.

I’m going in to this next round of IVF as a much calmer, more excited person. I used to say “What if this fails, what if I lose the baby”? I was always worried and panicking, but now I’m going in to this saying

“What if we have a baby?”

Open Book

I never really shared my last round of IVF with anyone. I’m an advocate for telling the “12 week rule” to go fuck itself (apologies for colourful language) but for some reason I wanted to do the whole thing alone.

Maybe out of fear? But isn’t that what I’m speaking out against. Talk about it. Tell people what you’re going through. People want to support you.

I say these things to people over and over again but strangely, I chose not to follow my own advice and where did it get me? Up baby loss creek without a bloody paddle.

I needed people to know what had happened. Why I couldn’t be arsed going out for dinner. Or why I was popping pretty high dose painkillers every 4 hours. Or why there were stitches all over my bloody body and why I had grew 2 dress sizes over night. (I swear the laparoscopy put a couple of stone on me)

This time it’s different. I’m sharing. Social media, family, work, friends, strangers. Whoever the Hell wants to listen. If I want people’s attitude to change around baby loss then the change has to start with me.

So, on the 21st June I go get my drugs and we start attempt number 3. And I’ll shout it from the rooftops. I’m no longer afraid of “jinxing” it. Going in to it with that thought is already starting on a negative footing and I’m all about going in to this much more relaxed and more positive.

I’m excited about what our future holds. I know other people are excited too, and I want them to be a part of it this time.

Ready

Another Facebook pregnancy announcement that wasn’t mine today.

I was fine with it. I “liked” and commented. I mean, if that’s not worthy of an award I don’t know what the hell is? (Apart from this blog of course, did I mention I’m nominated again? Not shortlisted yet – so fingers crossed)

I’m getting distracted. Focus Nicola. Yes, I was ok. It still reminds me I’m not quite there yet, but it doesn’t bring the same pain it once did.

I made the phone call to the IVF clinic today too. I told them we’re ready for our next go. Third time’s a charm right?

Grief

I’m feeling it today. I’ve been so conscious of physically recovering from my surgery that I think I neglected to think about what else it meant.

I lost my baby. Again.

I saw another pregnancy announcement on FB today and it hurt. It’s been a while since one really affected me. But today just felt different for some reason.

I was so close. I hadn’t been pregnant in so long that I forgot how 2 little lines on a stick could make me feel so much joy.

I had twins. Twins. And just like that, they’re both gone.

It’s fucking shit.

Wave Of Light

I didn’t feel up to posting yesterday.

I thought about it after we lit our candle but I didn’t feel ready. It’s funny that after 3 years, there are times that are still too difficult for me.

Lighting a candle for my lost babies then immediately writing down my feelings is one of them.

Holding a new born baby is another.

I still worry that it won’t happen for me. I worry our next round of IVF will fail again. I know we won’t have regrets later, how can we regret something we gave our all to? But I fear there will always be a missing piece.

I want to light my candle every year and remember my babies, but a part of me worries if I’ll be able to? If I don’t have a baby this time next year will I still be able to light it? Will I be able to light it every year knowing I never got to be a mum, or will it be a constant reminder of what could have, what should have been?

Miscarriage – A Husbands Story

You’re probably fed up hearing from me these days, so this is an experience on baby loss from my husband’s side. He’s not big on talking (or even writing) about things so I’m super proud of him for doing this.

My name is Nikki and I am going to share Nicola and I’s story through my eyes for the first time and this has not been an easy thing for me to do.

The reason I’m choosing to share my story is simple really. Nicola has taught me and so many others that talking openly about our loss or losses doesn’t only make us stronger but it connects us all.

When we share our stories they all become one. No longer do you need to feel hurt or scared or alone.

Let me set the scene…. It’s our wedding day. Nicola has just agreed to be my wife. Before the party starts my son comes up to make his speech.

He stands up in front of our friends and family, thanks them all for coming then announces to everyone that Nicola is pregnant and he’s going to be a big brother. It means the world to Kian to be a big brother.

Fast forward a week or so and we’re loving life. A newly married couple lying on the beach in Cuba, in 30 degree heat (in January!) Life was perfect!

Nicola suddenly started to feel funny. She wasn’t quite her normal self and she said she had a sore stomach and was going to the room to lie down.

I collected all our towels and said to our friends where we were going and headed up to our room to see if Nicola was ok.

You need to realise life at this moment was “perfect” I have just married my best friend, I am in Cuba – one of the most beautiful places I have ever been lucky enough to visit – and I am going to be a dad for a second time………like I said perfect.

But it was about to change……

I went in to our room and Nicola was in the toilet. She was breaking her heart and her hands were covered in blood.

She was sobbing and repeating over and over again

The baby, the baby.

I helped her off the toilet, gave her a kiss and told her lots of people bleed through pregnancy. I pulled out the trusted old Google and confidently said not to worry. Everything would be fine.

I went to reception to call an ambulance just to get everything checked out anyway.

When the ambulance came I was still confident everything would be ok. You always think

this will never happen to us!

When we got to the hospital it was empty. We were the only people in the place apart from a doctor and 2 nurses.

The language barrier was terrible. The 2 nurses never spoke any English and the Dr only spoke broken English at best.

We tried to explain what was happening and the Dr rushed Nicola in for an ultrasound. They lifted up her T-shirt put the cold jelly on the machine and started looking for our wee peanut.

They found our baby!

I have never been so happy or relieved in my life. I am not religious in the slightest but even me in that dark time thought “what if?”

We saw our beautiful wee baby. They showed us the heartbeat on the screen, printed us off the picture and told us everything would be ok. Sometimes bleeding is normal.

I was over the moon and turned to Nicola to give her a kiss but she wasn’t happy. Her pain was increasing and she felt like something was wrong.

I will never forget the moment Nicola suddenly rushed to the toilet. She sat on the toilet and it happened. She put her hand between her legs and our baby landed on it.

I took the baby from her and showed the Dr. He looked at it, shrugged and said “maybe”.

They asked me to sit in the hall way whilst they took Nicola away to clean her up and to re-scan her.

This is the part I really struggle with.

They left me sitting by myself not being able to check on my wife and still holding my dead baby for nearly 20 minutes.

As much as I did not want to look I couldn’t take my eyes off our wee baby. (Because that’s what it was, a baby.) This was my wee peanut!

That image of our baby will be forever burnt in to my memory. I got up off the seat and flushed the baby down the toilet. That single moment would come back to haunt me for years and I still struggle with that action today.

Nicola came back from the scan and all was confirmed by the Dr. They tried to keep Nicola in but she wanted to go back to the hotel and signed herself out.

When we arrived back at the hotel I took Nicola up to the room, gave her a massive kiss and sucked in all my hurt so I could put on a brave face. I had to be strong for Nicola.

The thought of someone questioning Nicola about the baby broke my heart so I went around the people in the hotel and explained what had happened.

When we got back to Scotland things took a darker turn. Nicola was on a dark path, a path I never thought I would be able to get her off.

Everything seemed to be heading in one direction and it all came to a head one day. Nicola and I got in to a massive fight and we nearly called it a day.

Our handling of the situation nearly cost us everything

4 weeks previously I was marrying my best friend, going to be a dad again and suddenly I was losing my wife and my baby.

I started looking in to loss and how people cope and I came across an article that said the best way to release pain and sadness is to write about it.

So I came up with the idea of blogging for Nicola. We spoke about it for hours and hours and came to the conclusion that this would be a great idea. One – it might help Nicola heal and Two – we never wanted a man or woman to go through what we did, but, if they had to, I wanted them to be better prepared than we were.

Nicola seeing your blog go from strength to strength, seeing you help yourself and others and seeing you beginning to get closure has helped me more than you will ever know.

I have kept all this in for so long Nicola and I could never fully get over everything knowing you were still hurting. Seeing you heal and smile again for the first time in years has helped me so much and from the bottom of my heart and everyone else who you have helped thank you.

Faith

I’m not religious. I don’t believe in God or Allah or Buddha. Well, maybe I do. Maybe I believe in all of them and that’s the problem.

I was brought up Catholic – mum was a kind of average Holy Joe who had been brought up by a staunch old- school Catholic mother. My gran threw her eldest daughter out when she got pregnant out of wedlock and nearly choked on her rosaries when my mum married a *whisper* protestant. When she passed away, we were no longer forced to go to church and I found myself separating from religion all together.

I’d like to think I still believe in Heaven, but then I also kind of like the idea of reincarnation. And ghosts. Can you believe in a ghost if you’re Catholic? I’m fascinated by Norse Gods but I also believe in evolution and aliens too so I guess I’m constantly juggling conflicting ideas. Or maybe I’m too swayed by Netflix conspiracy shows that “prove” the existence of all these things.

But the one thing that always comes back to me – and I’m sure even the people with strong faith must struggle with it too – is the inevitable question. “Why us?”

Why; if there is a God, does he let drug addicts have babies while 5 of mine have been taken before they’ve even had a chance at life? Why, when I’ve tried to be a good person (underage drinking at the local park aside) do I feel like I’m being punished for something? Why me?

I’ve made my peace now with whatever my outcome will be but, I think I’ll always ask myself that question. Why did it have to happen to me?

Quote-a-day (number 2)

There’s me talking about how the 3 day challenge is so much easier to stick to and how excited I was to do it, and suddenly I’m 4 days in and only have 1 quote!

My excuses – work, college, weekend, wine(s), a really good film, a christening and a birthday. I think you should let me off.

But here it is. Better late than never. Quote number 2:

“A day without laughter is a day wasted”

This was of course from the late, great Charlie Chaplin. I kind of wish I’d left this until the last day to finish on one of the greats, but I just had to put it in. I guess it sets me a challenge for tomorrow right?

Anyway, this quote. It’s a good one isn’t it? We need to laugh. We need to smile. And we need to remember that no matter what we’re going through, there’s always a reason to be happy. My husband makes me laugh. A lot. My friends silly texts make me giggle. Sticking on a stand up comedy or an episode of Friends does it for me too. Catching my dog trying desperately to catch her tail. Watching Kian pretend he’s a stuntman at the park.

In all honesty it took me a while to see it, but everywhere I look there’s reasons to laugh and smile and just be happy.

What are some things that make you laugh?