That look on his face.

As much as sitting on the loo staring at the dark streak of blood on the paper in my hands gave me a kick in the stomach, that was nothing compared to the pain of having to tell my husband.  It wasn’t bad enough that I should have the earth shattering discovery that I was bleeding and my dream of being a mum for the second time was over for another cycle, I then had to find the courage and strength to impart the tragic news to the person I loved the most, my husband.

Infertility is often all about the woman, for obvious (unfair if you ask me and God IS a man but anyway) reasons.

I could be broken, physically, mentally and emotionally destroyed yet I would have to muster that certain something that would not only enable me to deliver the news, but also be there to comfort and support him when his dream of becoming a father was snatched away, again.

I was talking to another girl recently about ‘that look on his face’.  That little boy lost look that cannot disguise the immense, acute pain coupled with the longing yet confused look as to what to do next.  Should I hug her?  Will she hug me?  Can I change this?  Can I rewind time?  Can it be true?  It is alright to cry?  Do I really have to look at that paper FFS?

There is no disputing that men are often overlooked throughout the treatment and it’s pleasing that mens’ fertility issues are being talked about more and more.  Yet still, no matter how much attention is paid to perhaps Men-related causes of infertility, whatever the cause, there will always be that look between and woman and her partner when she has to deliver the news.  It’s unavoidable, and I guess in some relationships, that look could be on a female partner where the other is trying to get pregnant.

I will never forget that look.  I’ll never forget the fear and fury and having to tell someone that news knowing how devastated they would be.  When I needed support the most I had to find strength to comfort someone else.  Yet it’s the way it was, will be and can only be.

Advertisements

Will it always hurt this much?

I was recently asked by someone who was hurting from a failed attempt ‘Will it always hurt this much?’

My first gut response was to blurt out yes with my next breath, but fortunately I was able to hold onto that thought and think some more about it.

The pain of infertility is a lot like grief I believe.  You grieve for a child you lost of thought/dreamt you had, you grieve for a life you might have had together and you grieve for the ability to create life which seems to be taken away from you.

Grief sucks.  It hurts.  It’s an immense pain.  At the time you feel you will never get over it and it will always hurt that way forever.

Time isn’t a healer but time is brilliant at helping your body, mind and soul adapt to carry that grief.  You learn to live with loss.  You learn to adapt your thoughts, behaviour, habits to cope with the loss of whatever it is you once had but now have to live without.

You learn to live with infertility.  You wake up each morning learning a little more how to deal with everyday life carrying the burden that you are still unable to conceive.

I don’t believe it hurts less.  It might not be as acute as on the day your period starts or the day you miscarry or the day your scan doesn’t show a heartbeat but it will always be there.  You cope better, you get stronger, you get wise to the world around you and adapt to stop it hurting you as it did before.

And so my answer?  The pain of fertility never leaves you, but don’t worry, you get stronger.  This will get easier and being strong will become the norm.

With love to anyone hurting.

Wisdom in one so young

So this morning I sadly received a text from a friend whose second IVF cycle failed.  BFN as they say (well they say Big Fat Negative though admittedly the ‘F’ always meant something else in this house!)  I was so terribly sorry for her and angry at her misfortune and it took me right back to those dark days when I would just want to scream and shout at the lack of control I had over the result.

As I walked into the kitchen shortly afterwards, our 18 month old twins were tormenting Zac, soon to be 7 in just 15 days time and he was looking rather harrassed.  He was trying to complete a game of Fifa on his iPad and the babies were trying to grab it and were screaming in frustration at him.  I laughed at the chaos around me, and poor Zac’s plight, and said: “Zac, when you are all grown up, do you think you would like to have babies?”  I was totally surprised at his answer.

“Well I guess so, if I’m lucky.”  When I asked what he meant he simply said: “Well some people can’t have babies can they?  I might not be lucky enough to have babies.”

So grown up, so wise, so accurate.  I felt an instant pang of guilt.  Had I created a world around my young boy that had taught him one of life’s cruel lessons as such a tender age?  I know we had brought Zac along on our journey to extend the family and I was always careful when explaining to him why he didn’t have a brother or sister at the time, but it had clearly left a mark on him and made a lasting impression that I was ashamed I had not continued to nurture.

As I stewed in my own thoughts and Zac rescued his iPad from his now tantruming little brother he said: “I guess if I say my prayers and am a good boy I might have babies, but don’t worry Mummy, our babies haven’t put me off, they are only annoying sometimes!”

Jason and I laughed at his wisdom and his conclusion that the twins were only temporarily annoying.  Yet today, I’ll say my prayers for my friend, remembering how lucky we were to have ours answered and how extra lucky our babies are to have such a wonderful big brother in Zac.

Forgive yourself this week

There’s literally no escaping it.  The news is everywhere.  There are follow up stories, features, in-depth analysis, write ups, opinions, photographs…….we have a Princess!  Princess Charlotte Elizabeth Diana arrived this week and the news was greeted with great joy around the world.  Well almost.

As a royalist all my life, I was excited to find out whether it was a boy or a girl and delighted to see William tenderly kiss the head of the baby Prince George, now newly promoted to the role of big brother.  He’s been hidden from cameras but has clearly grown up, walking now, pointing and becoming a proper little boy yet still Daddy’s baby boy.  No time has seemingly passed for Kate or Will to start to notice how quickly he is growing, how the age gap is widening or wondering what sort of big brother he would be.

This fact won’t have escaped the thousands of families out there who are doing just that with their own children.  Wondering if they will ever be able to give them a sibling, counting the passing months with the arrival of each period as the gap between any would be brother or sister gets bigger and bigger.  Facebook groups for Secondary Infertility were literally littered with women hurting from this news.

It’s not that they wish Kate ill for having a baby so quickly after George (or for looking so amazing just 10 hours after having a baby lol!) and it’s definitely not that they wish Kate had had to struggle in the way they are.

It’s just wish they were in her shoes (nude Jimmy Choos btw) and were finally celebrating a sibling.

It’s a gut wrenching anxiety that they cannot control that makes them feel so exasperated that they have no control over the outcome of their situation.  They simply can’t give a sibling to their child at the moment.  When others seem to pop them out all around them, the truth that they are seemingly unable to do what is so natural is torture.

It’s the fact that news of a royal sibling will undoubtedly prompt friends and relatives to start asking when they will be knocking out another.

It’s the way that whichever way they turn they simply cannot escape the news that there is a brother or sister for George.  Nappy ads on TV, bubble bath ads on social media, newspapers, magazines everyone talking about it…even the flippin Royal Navy did their own photo on Facebook to celebrate.  There’s simply no escape.

It’s the fact that thoughts and feelings are regularly entering their heads and hearts and they hate themselves for it.  Dark thoughts, feelings of jealousy, anger, deep envy and frustration.  They aren’t nasty people, don’t normally have such dark thoughts but such is the pain they can’t stop them and they hate that fact.

It’s the tears that have come, uncontrollably, without warning and with no specific trigger. They just fall, silent warm tears, mourning a child that doesn’t exist yet, prompted by a child someone else has been able to bring into the world.  It’s the release valve that they have, letting out some of the frustration, in big, wet tears that spill out when they least expect.

And above all, when they are trying their best to get their head down, get on with life, act normal and be positive, this is just another huge reminder of the battle they face.  The fight they feel like they are losing and how they feel they are letting their child down.  The feelings never leave them but sometimes life is bearable and they can get on with it, momentarily forget the pain and move on.  This week, they haven’t been able to.

So if you are currently feeling lost in a world that is moving on with new babies, whilst you struggle with Secondary Infertility take heart knowing that someone understands how you  feel, cut yourself some slack and forgive yourself for feeling the way you do this week and more than anything, realise that you are not alone.  #bestrong

At what cost a child?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2926471/Woman-appeals-donations-strangers-afford-IVF-refused-treatment-NHS.html

This story is in the paper today about a woman whose only hope of a child is through IVF as her partner had testicular cancer, but because he has also had a child in another relationship before the cancer, the NHS refuses to fund their fertility treatment.

Her mother describes Eva: ‘Eva is a shadow of her former self. As Eva’s parent I have watched how the desire for a child has affected every part of who she is.

‘Eva has lost her confidence and self-esteem… she is depressed, angry, and always emotionally fragile.’

Funding debates are complicated and views are subjective and having had to pay for four rounds myself i am obviously fairly one sided in my views. What frustrates me mostly in the ‘should fertility treatment be funded?’ debate is that the fertility organs aren’t viewed the same as any other organs that aren’t functioning properly. It takes two to tango, two people and two sets of fertility organs to create a new life – if one of those isn’t working properly why are these not eligible for funded treatment? Unjust? I think so. Needs addressing? Definitely. I consider myself lucky to have afforded 4 rounds but there would have shortly come a time where I could not have afforded another round, if that time had come after three rounds I would not have my babies today. Unbearable thought.
That Eva has had to resort to the Gofundme site is testament to the pain longing for a child creates and her sheer determination to be a mummy. I hope she is successful. But then her real battle starts and I wish her success with her treatment too.
I can’t ever remember seeing a morbidly obese person launching a Gofundme site for a stomach stapling!! #unjust