I haven't posted for ages. Mainly because I wasn't sure what to write. The last little while has been an emotional roller coaster, and I wish I could say I coped well. Alas, no, I didn't. I was the one with vomit in my hair, a stunned expression and that oh-so-lovely snotty, cry-y face.
Last I blogged I was in the throws of another round of IVF. I'm not sure how much you know about the mechanics of pregnancy, but timing wise, I got symptoms VERY early. By the day of my blood test, an IVF day-of-doom type scenario, I felt like I was permanently on the ocean liner to a rainbow baby. "You're pregnant!" says the lovely nurse who rang me with my results. "I thought so..." I uttered, and she proceeded to tell me my HCG (Magic pregnancy hormone number) was 788. Which is very high even for twins at that stage. 3 days later my numbers are over 4000 and we figure we're well on the way to a full term pregnancy. We told a couple of people. Things were good for a few weeks.
Then, crash. I wake up in the middle of the night. I stand up. "Oh, shit. Please don't let that be what I think it is..." Off we go to The Women's...nothing left. I miscarried. Again. (This might be the part where I vomit in my hair on the roller coaster.) The next day I go to see my fertility specialist, who manages to squeeze me in at the slightly dazzling time of 6.15am. "I'm so sorry. We think it was just a random chromosomal abnormality. Just bad luck." So we're back to bad luck again. Great.
So, the first week of the school holidays was not quite the blissful family time I had imagined. Plus I got the flu, just to really make sure it was crappy. We went on holiday to the beach. It rained, hailed, was freezing cold. By one week post miscarriage, I was at rock bottom again. I decided I can't walk this path anymore. I can't continue to be a terrible, angry, frustrated mother and wife whilst trying to fill a gap in our family that can't be filled. We were done with this. We had finished our family. And I failed to bring the last piece home. And I am still failing.
So I did what any sane person does when she's feeling horrid. I went to see a psychic. And she said some stuff (which I won't share here, I'd hate to ruin the surprise) and I felt...hopeful. I realised that I still hadn't managed to believe that we might have another baby. But I need to focus on being ready for it, instead of rebounding off bad luck. I owe my family my best, every day. I owe those here in my house and those in heaven. And I haven't been giving it, because I wasn't sure I had it in me. I'm better than the person I am. I can do more.
Today I went for my review with my fertility specialist and I finally said what I've needed to say for some time. I'm not ready for pregnancy. I want it badly, but I'm not ready physically or emotionally. I need to love being pregnant, despite the anxiety. I need to feel good about myself. I need to be healthier. I couldn't WANT it more, but I can BE more.
New plan of attack; exercise. Get out more. And just ride out 2013. Start 2014 in a better frame of mind. Start IVF not waiting to fail. I am determined. I won't give up. Not until I am holding a precious, living baby in my arms. As a very wise lady said to me recently, "Tragedy would be giving up now, after all you've been through. Tragedy would be not getting the prize after the heartache."
Dr Kate, I promise I won't lose hope again. Hope is one thing no one can take away, we have to consciously give it up. I almost let go. It won't happen again.