infertile

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.

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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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Does any one else feel childless?

Oppsss!  Childish! Does any one else feel childish?

I look at my friends the ones that have families as well as the ones that have decided they are not ready yet. They all seem……. well…  they all just seem so together ..

I know no one knows what’s going on behind closed doors but I watch them and they all seem to know where they are heading and I’m still lost…. or possibly not lost, just having a tantrum on the scale of maturity while everyone awkwardly steps over me while averting their eyes…

We got a new car, by default really, ours broke down and long story short – *ping* New car.
It’s nothing overly special, it’s not grand or flash but it gets the job done. All my adult life I have had sort of ‘teenage cars’ if you know what I mean…., my dad would call them tin cars – he would rave that if I ever have a car accident that it wouldn’t protect us, it would just crush. My new car feels sturdy. My new car feels like a grown ups car…

I always said that as long as I dealt with my responsibilities first, then it didn’t matter if I acted grown up or not. I could be as reckless as I liked. Or stay in bed till noon. That I don’t have to act like an adult until I am one.

Now I am one.
Now I act like one.
I Am an adult….
And it sucks.
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Will I ever feel like a grown up if I never have kids?

Invisible Bruises

I don’t write much anymore. I kind of don’t like repetition… And I feel like 90% of the time my posts are depressing….
And because Feeling like crap is a constant at the moment.

Don’t get me wrong I’m still a fairly happy person, I’m happy every day. But I’m also miserable every day. Sometimes for no reason at all, or sometimes because someone’s innocent questions makes my body ache.

I think everyone in the ever growing TTC group dread the questions.. the ‘come on you have been married for six years now,when are you going to start a family’ questions? most of the time it kind of makes me want to rip their face off for their ignorance – I promise I’m not really a violent person – but today I just feel hurt, I feel like I could shake them and scream that. They. Should. Know. Better.

I got asked today. I got asked what was taking us so long? I got asked why we would wait 6 years if I did want children?

My answer was pure honesty – I replied that of course I want children, I would have ten…. I did not add on ….If I could.

I didn’t add on that you asking me these question burns me to the core. I didn’t add on that your stupid questions have today emotionally set me back about 6 months. I did not add on that every time I get asked or every time I see a baby bump or a pregnancy announcement, it’s another punch to the chest. I did not tell you That you have left me feeling sore and tender and bruised.

That all the time, I feel sore and tender and bruised.

Being infertile leaves me invisibly black and blue.