itisnteasyforeveryonestuff-blog

[itisnteasyforeveryonestuff-blog]

4.9.18

So that was my fertility story so far.

Now in the present day - a couple of days ago I thought I had a faint positive pregnancy test. 2 days later I test again, obviously I had my hopes up despite being dubious as it was only a very faint line I had seen previously. This test was absolutely and completely negative. Another negative. Feelings of utter misery and hopeless were almost instant. I spent the whole day sobbing and sobbing. It’s crazy how much water your eyes can hold! A got home from work and new I had been crying. He asked me if I was ok? I said I was fine. He knew I wasn’t so gave me a kiss on the forehead.

I asked A if he has booked a GP appointment again, he has not. I am becoming annoyed at him about it. Does he not care? Does he not want a baby as much as I do? Is it a masculinity thing? No on wants to hear there is something wrong with their fertility, I know that. But how will we know what is going on if he doesn’t go? He could tell by the look on my face his answer was not the one I was looking for. He told me he would but I needed to tell him what he should say. I guess that is progress. 

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..continued further

So after our tragic loss I began obsessing over ovulation tests and taking my temperature every morning because I know the only way I will begin to heal from the miscarriage is to conceive again. I never got a positive ovulation test. I had a couple of days of very dark lines but not as dark as the control line. This might be because I was only testing once a day and not twice a day so I missed the peak of the LH surge. The darker lines and my temps indicate that I’m probably ovulating day 16-18. As I have my period on day 28 every month this means my leuteal phase might not be long enough for a fertilised egg to implant in my uterus. This can be caused my low progesterone. I have my first clinic appointment in October - the waiting list was long but I am finally nearly there. 

Obviously I have questioned if there is something wrong with A’s sperm, especially as my periods are so regular (I know this is a good sign). I have asked him many times to book a GP appointment..he still hasn’t. I have been reluctant to nag him and cause him stress. But my feelings are changing towards that and he needs to be proactive and not leave it all down to me. 

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The back story continued...

After 1 year and 4 months of trying, on May 1st 2018 we found out we were pregnant! I can not begin to describe to you how elated I felt. For the first time in my life I felt utterly and completely content. Everything felt just right. I was growing a human being, my human being, my child, half of me and half of the man I adore, what more could I want? 

We decided to tell our close family about the pregnancy at 7 weeks because we were about to fly to Paris to stay visit A’s family and we knew they would offer copious amount of good wine, which I would obviously have to decline for some reason. We decided the headache of lying during the trip was too much. As well as this I think the main reason some people choose not to tell anyone until later on is the fear of miscarriage. We knew if this were to happen we would tell them anyway.  So we bought our parents mugs with ‘FREAK OUT YOU’RE GOING TO BE A GRANDMA’ and ‘FREAK OUR YOU’RE GOING TO BE A GRANDPA’ written on them. We casually gave them the mugs and I will never ever forget the pure joy and emotion spread across their faces as they unwrapped them. I will treasure that memory. It goes without saying they were overjoyed! The forward planning: gender, names, decorating the nursery etc naturally followed. Our due date was New Years Eve - even better as the christmas and new year period is our family’s favourite. We were all so ready for this baby’s arrival, already. 

On May 14th A took me to Paris to meet some of his family who live there. They have a beautiful house with a lake at the bottom of the garden. On May 16th it was our 8 year anniversary. That day he took me out in the rowing boat on the lake, with a hamper of food and champagne (1 glass for him). As we put the oars down and stopped in the middle of the lake to eat he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him!!! The two happiest days of my life so far had happened in the same month. I was going to be a mother and a wife! It was so special, I will never forget that intimate moment between us and the words we exchanged. 

So there it was, every woman’s dream proposal. My dream man and my dream baby. But that dream soon turned into my worst nightmare. The previous night, May 15th, I experienced some cramping. We had walked around Paris that day so assumed I had overdone it and just needed to rest. We were obviously concerned and had a little cry together in each other’s arms, before we fell asleep. Please higher power, let this be a happy ending was my final thought. 

The next morning, we awoke, on our 8 year anniversary, in Paris, totally in love and the cramping had stopped. I got up and went to the toilet as usual, wiped and there was blood. A fair amount of fresh red blood. The colour drained from my face. It’s our anniversary...do I tell A? Was my first thought. Of course I did I could not have kept it to myself. I clearly looked like I had seen a ghost as I walked into the bedroom. He asked me what was wrong and I told him in a shakey voice ‘I’m bleeding’. His face dropped. Little did I know he was going to ask me to marry him that day. And this was happening. Later on he told me he considered not asking me, I am so glad he did. We rationalised it as ‘some cramping and bleeding can be normal in early pregnancy - lets not jump to conclusions yet and enjoy our day’. For the rest of the day, even whilst on the rowing boat I had a dull ache in my womb and in my heart. I knew. I think he knew. 

The proposal happened and it was utterly wonderful, albeit tainted by worry and sadness. The following day we were flying home. In the morning the cramping and bleeding had stopped - some hope! We arrived in the airport, 4 hours early and watched the end of a series we had been addicted to. It ended and the pain began. Excruciating pain in my womb. I went to the toilet, I was bleeding alot. I had no sanitary wear with me and nowhere to buy any. I rolled up lots of toilet tissue and shoved it in my knickers. I took some deep breathes on the toilet, gathered myself together and walked back to A. Walked back feeling dizzy and heartbroken. There was nowhere to buy painkillers - A searched high and low. A and I stood queuing to board the plane in shock and in silence. A knew I was unable to talk and needed to focus on coping with this pain and my emotions in this very public place.I felt like I might pass out with the pain but all I could think was ‘you’re nearly home, you’re nearly home, just get me home, just get me home’. Our seats were separate and we had to fight with business men to move so we could be together. I told them I was scared of flying, they were very unreasonable but eventually moved. It was an issue we did not need in that moment - I wanted to scream at them. We sat down and I put my headphones in and completely and utterly surrendered to the pain. There was nothing I could do but surrender. After 45 minutes the plane began it’s decent. The closer we got to the ground the more emotional I felt, sadness, worry about how A was feeling and coping, utter relief to be landing home. As I stood up to exist the plan I felt a gush in my knickers. I explained to A that we needed to find a toilet asap as I only had toilet tissue as protection. I found the toilet and had passed a huge clot. I looked through it and found it was only clotted blood - thank goodness. We queued for the passport check and queued for the bag collection. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold my emotion in for. We got our bags and A ran through the airport to buy sanitary pads and paracetamol. We started walking to the car, I was in so much pain. We couldn’t find the car.  A left me with the bags to search for it - eventually he found it but the gate was shut and he couldn’t drive it towards me. He walked back to me to get the bags and we walked together to the car. Each tear began to roll down my cheeks with each step towards the car - I was nearly in a safe space. I got in and wailed and wailed and wailed, the loudest release of raw emotion possible for a human being to make. 

We were supposed to be happy. We were home from Paris, engaged!!! We walked into our flat and A’s parents had left big ‘congratulations on your engagement balloons’ outside the front door. We took them inside whilst sobbing. My mum came over to comfort me. A was struggling to look us both in the eye - he was clearly very emotional. I was heartbroken for him. Whilst in the airport and on the plane and at that point he was my biggest concern. That might sound odd but I so wanted him to be ok and he clearly wasn’t. He had gone to so much effort to propose in the most special way - and he had pulled it out of bag that is for sure. This was so not fair on him. Obviously when I shared this concern with him he explained I was his main concerns and that he felt so helpless as I was clearly in so much pain. I guess that is love. 

The next day I was scanned and the worst was confirmed. ‘I am so sorry, it isn’t good news. But it’s nearly over now, the bleeding should settle’. The next morning I went to the toilet...’plop’. I instinctively scooped ‘it’ straight out of the toilet. There is was a 7 week embryo?foetus?baby?ourbaby?. I asked A if he wanted to see it - he declined. I flushed it down the toilet..I flushed it down the toilet. I flushed the embryo?foetus?baby?ourbaby? down the toilet. It felt so cold and final. But what else was I supposed to do with it. 

We were broken, are broken. A hole has been permanently burnt into my heart and will be there forever. Some days I can’t feel it, some days it hurts so so much. 

[itisnteasyforeveryonestuff-blog]

From the beginning?

It is difficult to know where the beginning was. 

My fiancé and I have been together for 8 years, since we were teenagers. There is no point in writing how much he means to me, many would find that boring to read and what I feel in my heart is inexplicable anyway. For the purpose of anonymity I will refer to him as ‘A’. 

A and I had spoken about our desires to have children from early on in our relationship. He has a beautiful large family, as do I albeit a little broken. However, early on in our relationship meant we were young and definitely were not actually considering starting a family at that point. So, ?naturally, I was using safer, more effective and perhaps permanent forms of contraception. I was not yet a fully developed woman and I was willingly but not totally informedly putting artificial hormones into my body to stop my reproductive system from working properly. And society really believes this will not negatively affect our reproductive system’s future ability to work properly? Madness. 

6 years later, with a little knowledge under my belt, I decide it would be sensible to give my body a break. Hoping it would return back to it’s natural and fully functioning state as I was aware children would be on the cards sooner rather than later. 4 months it took for my periods to return. 8 months for them to return every month, regularly. Yet something still did not feel right. Now our sexual activity was regular and of course unprotected even though we had not actually has ‘the chat’ about whether we were officially trying for a baby or not. I think A wanted to buy a house and get married first - sensible ideas, however my reproductive alarm clock was sounding loudly and I could ignore the overwhelming desire! 

Long story short...19 months later, 1 miscarriage and many tears we are still not parents.  

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I am not a writer

Disclaimer* i am not a writer. I’m a normal young woman just trying to seek some comfort in the physical manifestation of my thoughts. Here goes nothing... 

[itisnteasyforeveryonestuff-blog]

...

After sobbing into my pillow following another negative pregnancy test, I decided I needed to write down my story and my thoughts in order to make sense of the chaotic mess whirling around inside my head. I thought about a paper diary but that carries an element of risk - would I be able to write honestly knowing my words could be traced back to me? No. This blog will give me an anonymous platform enabling me to honestly offload and hopefully help others know they're not alone in their fertility journey. Or perhaps the real reason for this is so I might learn that I'm not alone.