That day.

That day was along time ago. 

That day was not long after we found out that as a couple we would be unable to conceive. 

That day was the light after a whole lot of grief 

That day was filled with hope and promise for the future.

That day I was heartbroken.

That day 

That day nearly killed me.

That day we decided to attend the welcoming meeting and start the proceedings for adoption. 

We were sat for about 45 minutes in a room with 9 other couples,18 hopeful parents to be. I remember every last one of their faces. I’m sure their expressions matched our own. Excitement and nerves. We silently judged them of course. Would that couple be better parents then we could be? I judged myself against them as visibly the youngest person there. But that did not matter to me, as they don’t know me. They don’t know that I met my husband at the age of 18 and never looked back. They don’t know us. 

We sat through 2 hours of talks and videos – it felt like they were all designed to almost put you off or give you the worst case scenario. Almost like if your put off by this, don’t go any further. If you can’t be strong now you are not strong enough for these children.

They asked us what sort of parents we would want to be. I remember thinking I would be exactly like my mum or try to be. My dear husband would be the softy, I could tell. Our kids would have him wrapped around there little fingers. I rolled my eyes thinking I may need to be a little stricter so they don’t end up brats. 

They showed us a truly awful video that showed some of the terrible things these children could have lived through and possibly why they were now in care. They gave us statistics and numbers. They asked us if we would take siblings. Coming from a big family myself, I remember thinking we would take as many kids as they would let us. They told me kids over 5 don’t get ‘picked’ often and spend the rest of there life’s in care. That made my mind up that our first adopted child would be older than five. 

I noted that 2 of the 9 couples left after the video. Another couple took some pamphlets and also left. I judged them as weak. But we were determined, we would not be scared away by horror stories. We were here for our family. 

The next step after a coffee is to have a one to one with a social worker. 

After a few pleasantries, she asked if she could be frank with us. My whole body went cold. I had been judging potential parents since the moment we got there and she had judged us right back. In less than 10 seconds she had judged us as unfit to be parents. 

Her reasons being we were young and we were overweight.It didn’t matter that yes we were young but we were committed to each other. It didn’t matter to her that I was currently looking after a 2 year old five days a week because his mummy couldn’t walk. It didn’t matter that I took him to the park everyday single day that it did not rain. It didn’t matter that I rolled around and played harder than any of his other aunties and uncles. It didn’t matter to her because I was fat and that was all I was.

She told me that before she would be willing to go further down the adoption route, we would have to lose weight. Still determined, I told her that we had already started and we were proud of our progress so far. At this she laughed in my face and told me I would need to be half the person I am and that I only had 6 months before a panel would say the same thing. 

She destroyed me. I cried for days. I’m hate to admit I stayed in bed for awhile, ashamed of myself. Humiliated, I spiralled. I had no idea at the time I was so deep in depression. I didn’t look in mirrors, I didn’t get dressed unless I had too. I didn’t cook, I didn’t clean. It must have been hell for my husband. And he never complained. Not once. I slowly got better bit by bit, but I was depressed for years. 

As a then size 18 she had no right to say that to me. To actually say that I should be half my weight would have made me under 8stone. I don’t know if she really believes to be a good parent you need to be a size 8/10 or if She miscalculated me to be larger than I was. Or maybe she was just a bitch. 

I hated this women for Years. Blamed her. She robbed me of a family. Robbed me of my future. I considered putting a complaint in. Over and over. But Ultimately it was all my fault. I gave up.

That day still haunts me.

I was too scared to ever reconsider adoption. I was too weak to prove that horrible woman wrong.

I gave up. 

I know I need to work harder, for my husband. He is everything to me and looking back – I let him down. 

I need to find my determination.

I  need to work harder.

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Shrinking

It’s a been a bad week. 

I’m learning to love the life I have and stop comparing what others have against what I can’t have… I’m enjoying trying ways to ‘Make It Matter’

But   *excuse me while I lay on the floor flailing my arms and legs while having a full blown temper tantrum* I want one!! 

It’s been one of those weeks where babies are everywhere! Obviously I love babies but, seriously, could they not spread them out in manageable doses?? Why, when I am making such a bloody effort must you parade babies and pregnancy announcement around.

So to kick my week off – one friend, one colleague and my own fricking nephew announced pregnancies. My nephew and his girlfriend 18 years old – come on! I’ve been asked to attend yet another baby shower, was visited by my cousin who we already knew was pregnant but as a cheeky gut punch confirmed Twins and just to top it off attended a christening on Sunday with the whole family and about 27 kids running around.

Fabulous!

In reality Non of this was bad it was incredibly pleasant and of course I’m so happy for each of them…

I just look to the heavens and think what about me?

I feel like I’m shrinking, forgotten about. I’m trying everything I can to move on yet still stuck right here, the same place I was 10 years ago. 

29 Years 

I recently had a birthday – the title may given that game away. 

I had a birthday cake with a candle And even though my 29 year old self knows that wishes rarely come true,  I took I big breath and I wished a wish anyway. 

Obviously according to the birthday cake candle wish rules, I can’t tell you what my wish was. Can you guess?

I don’t think I am breaking any birthday cake candle wish rules by telling you that ever since I was old enough to realise that my same wish had never come true, I stopped wishing for a fluffy pet flamingo and since then I made the same two wishes all my life. I either wished..

 1. To be happy in life
Or more often 
2. I wished that if there was such thing as a true birthday cake candle wish, than please give it to someone else. 

I didn’t mean to snub a (non existent) gift…  Chance… that was for me or admit that it may not actually come true. But in those moments, almost every year, when I had all my family around me, I had everything I ever needed. I was Am a very lucky girl. 

This year in a moment of panic I started to blow out my candle and realised I hadn’t pre-prepared a wish!!  The pressure was on and I had to make a snap decision on the spot. 

I know, crazy right? 

I wished with all my might for the one thing that would complete my life. But I totally lost all hope of that ever happening soooo…. I took matters into my own hands and bought myself a birthday gift.      

Meet Felicia flamingo – the name felicia choosen for its meaning – happy. When she arrives she will have pride of place on my bed to remind me every morning to make the most of each day….

or in cases like today were my day was just a bit rubbish… at least she is something bright and cheerful to look at

Or something mentally healthier…… Happy Birthday to me.

Make it Matter. 

A Sweet ‘intertility experienced’ friend, while giving me advice, told me that a ‘Dear Baby’ might help me grieve – I was sceptical but thought hey Ho Let’s give it a go.

The problem for so many months was that I couldn’t seem to get past ‘Dear Baby…’ 

As I said in the letter a huge part of me felt defeated, a sort of failure that I was allowing to happen and pride was screaming at me the whole time! I wasn’t raised as a quitter and here I was quitting. It really hurt to deliberately bring these feelings to the surface, knowing they weren’t going to be ‘heard’ in the manner it was ment for. 

Then the ‘what’s the fricking point?’ Part would take over and I would close the laptop and go about my day feeling irritable and frustrated. 

When I eventually tried again to write it was about midnight and I left my sleeping husband in bed and got out the laptop and just stared at the screen and let the tears flow, I imagined my child and the future we may have had and I couldn’t stop. I could have said so much more, I could have typed our entire life plan. It wouldn’t make a stitch worth of difference. 

Over all I took the advice and I can say, for me, I was suprised. It is most definitely Not a miracle cure, Nor did it suddenly take the pain away. I did however realise that although I already knew it was out of our hands – not a possibility – I was still waiting. I realised that I was foolishly waiting for nothing and had to put a stop to it. The relief that now fills me is most surprising.

‘Yes’ has become my new favourite word… Shall we go away next month dear? Why yes that would be great…. Shall we have a glass of wine to night dear? Yes what a fab idea! …. Shall we buy that selfishly delightful sports car?? Ok ok.. too far ..but you get my point. The pressure I put my self under and the limitations I put around us were suffocating. 

I feel free. I’m no longer waiting to continue living my life, this is it,it’s already happening. Lets Make It Matter.

Dear Baby.

Dear Baby,

I have been writing and re-writing this letter for the what seems like forever. I know I have to get these words from my head, but I also want to keep them locked up tight forever because this letter feels like defeat. I can refuse to give up my hopes and dreams of you, my flesh and blood, but I know if I don’t stop now I will end up being a shell of who I am.

Baby, know that I have dreamed of you a billion times. I imagine Seeing you for the first time and having my heart stolen. Knowing that In a beat I would lay down my life for you. I have imagined showing you off, and squeezing you. I imagine being exhausted and waking in the night to comfort you. I imagine being so, so proud of you, To see you conquer the world and knowing that from your very first step, you will succeed.

I know the weight of you, I know how you smell and I have heard the sound of your laugh.

I Have wished and I have prayed, I have Begged and I have Bargained just to meet you.

Baby, Know that you are wanted. You have been Loved. You would never feel alone, I am yours.

Daddy would teach you to be strong, Mummy would tell you everything will be ok.

I would give anything & everything to make you happy.

I imagine you growing up and Know in my heart what a great human you will be. A good mum always knows.

Baby, Always remember one thing…

Mummy loves you.

One day I may wake up…

One day I may wake up – and be pleased with the lay in that my non existent children let me have.

90% of my posts start with a single thought. A one liner that takes hold of me and kind of splatters on a page. I don’t have a plan of what to write , I don’t pick a subject – Hey, why not Infertility today? It just is, so I mostly write about how I feel as oppose to whats on my mind. And usually if I’m seeking comfort from my online family I’m already not in a great place.

 I love being someone that visits just to try help, try offer my words where I can offer comfort to someone else also not feeling so great, I’m not that person today. Today Hurts.

I pray everyday that there are no reasons for me not being a mummy. Like, did I do something? Is it my fault? I keep hoping there is a bigger picture.And then I worry I have missed the big flashing sign stating what next.

I worry haven’t been sent a sign. 

I worry that not being fertile is the sign.

I’ve been through this before, so many times before. 

I feel fine for so long and then I look up and I’m still in pain. And I still can’t breathe. I can’t understand why after so many years I still feel the same burning sadness through my entire body.

One day I may wake up – and not have an ache in my heart.

One day I may wake up – and know where in life I’m heading

One day I may wake up – and be satisfied living a childless life?
One day I may wake up – Old.. and then it will all be tough shippoopie anyway.


For the First ime since infertility…..

…….

I’m going to be an Auntie!!

Yes my eldest sister is expecting, again!!
The Next shock – Due on Christmas Day!!

I’m incredibly happy for her and also for my 5 year old niece who is very excited to be a big sister! I wish them all the happiness in the world and pray for the best possible future for all 4 of them…

No Buts…. all I would like to say to my beautiful sister is…

‘If I need time or space or if I seem off or just plain miserable, please don’t take offence or think I’m not over the moon for you. I am. I am proud. And I will be the world’s best auntie as I try to be already. Really, it is not personal.

I just hate your uterus’

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