During the last few weeks, it would appear that just about everyone on my Facebook friends list is expecting a baby. Well everyone female anyway!
I’m trying so damn hard to be happy for them. I say I’m trying but I know that no matter how hard I try, it’s not a genuine happiness. How can it be because every time someone announces their pregnancy, it just reminds me of what I’ve lost and what I’ve never been able to have since – no matter how hard we try.
I feel awfully selfish because instead of thinking of someone else’s happiness and being pleased for them – the way I should be – I’m wrestling with this inner turmoil that just won’t go away. And I don’t think it ever will – not unless I’m able to either have a family or get a damn grip!
But despite all of this, there is a glimmer of hope. Some of these women are people who have been open about their struggle to conceive. It’s great that their prayers have been answered, even if a couple of them are seriously pissing me off acting like they’re the first women in the world to get pregnant (yes, I know it’s only natural.)
I just hope that one day, it will be me…
This has been a very interesting month for us. It’s been a month filled with excitement and nervous anticipation.
After an exciting trip to Prague – a place I’ve always wanted to visit – it was back home to start my new job. Of course I was a little worried as to what lay ahead, especially as I’d loved my old job and everyone who worked there, and I felt every bit the new kid in the office, but it actually wasn’t too bad. There’s a lot of new stuff to learn but I’m enjoying it and I’m getting to know my new work colleagues who seem fab.
The biggest problem we faced was finding somewhere new to live. But we faced one set-back after another. The biggest disappointment cam when Techster found his dream apartment – but someone else had pipped us to the post! It was so frustrating: all the places we liked were way out of our price range; all the apartments in our price range were simply not worth the money. Furthermore you wouldn’t believe how many scammers are out there, ready and willing to take advantage of everyone’s mad panic to find somewhere suitable to live. Trust me – we learnt a lot of valuable lessons.
But then Techster’s cousin phoned us to say that there was an apartment available near where he lived and that we should take a look at it. So we did.
The first thing I thought when I looked at it was that it was way too small. No way would it accommodate us and all our stuff.
But there were plenty of plus points to consider.
Like the fact that everything in the apartment was brand new; it was super clean; the area was pretty good, and it was easy to get to work every day. It was a little on the pricey side however, but we figured we could just about manage it.
So we moved in just over three weeks ago and I reckon it’s one of the best decisions we ever made. It really does feel like home and my biggest regret is that we didn’t find this apartment ages ago (the landlord said that it had been empty for a long time due to the fact that he’s fussy who he gives it to.)
After all the stress and difficulties we went through to find this place, it has most definitely been worth it. Best of all, I feel more optimistic about the future.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day and despite the fact that I live in Britain where Mothering Sunday was celebrated a couple of months earlier, you couldn’t fail to notice the significance of the day.
It’s a day when every man, woman, and child shows their mothers love and appreciation because everyone has a mum. But not every woman can be honoured as a mother because, as some of us painfully know, we don’t all have children. And for women like us, it’s a stark reminder of what we don’t have. It’s a day we feel ignored, invisible, and sidelined. It’s like watching a party taking place that you haven’t been invited to, and you can’t help thinking, “Why me?” Or perhaps that should be “Why not me?”
For those of us who want to have a little family of our own more than anything, it’s heartbreaking.
And for women like me who came close – there just aren’t any words…
I tried to avoid Facebook and other social networking sites as much as I could yesterday. I can handle people expressing their devotion to their mothers but I really couldn’t face the look-at-me-I’m-a-mama posts. So I decide to work on some blog posts instead but I couldn’t escape Mother’s Day fever there either. One blogger did a very short post on how thrilled she was to be the mother of a beautiful little girl and how she felt honoured to be a ‘member of the club’.
Well lady, there’s plenty of us who keep having our membership denied through no fault of our own.
But I know that there’s no point in being a bitter, twisted old hag bringing out not just the violins but a whole symphony orchestra. The rational side of me understands that these mothers are understandably expressing their total joy at having a mini-me. They’re deliriously happy at being called ‘Mum,’ and it’s a blessing that they’ve never had to experience what some of us have. and let’s face it, if we had a gorgeous little family of our own, wouldn’t we be doing the same?
But then there’s the irrational feeling that these lucky mums are smug, full of themselves, and gloatingly telling the rest of us how easy it all is.
It’s a constant battle between these two sides every day.
But there was one post that did stand out by far yesterday. A blogger had recently become the mother of twins – something she ever so rightly regards as an absolute blessing. She expressed her joy and gratitude at being finally becoming a mother, but acknowledged how hard the journey getting there was. She thought about the women who are still on that long, hard and painstaking road to motherhood – a road that never seems to bring us to our desired destination – and told us never to lose hope.
Such a beautiful and poignant message had me telling that orchestra to get packing!
I may be known for being a bit of a ditz but I knew I was pregnant before I even took the test. There were so many things I’d never experienced before: weird cramps in my legs; the most awful insomnia and tiredness (thank goodness I wasn’t working at the time) craving certain foods and then not being able to eat more than a few bites; nausea; rock hard boobs that made me question whether I’d had silicon implants whilst being under the influence.
But the biggest give away was that my period was late.
Now my periods have always been the most awful, uncomfortable, painful thing ever. When people talk about child birth being a difficult experience, I already I have a pretty good idea. In fact my period pains used to knock me out faster than any anaesthetic could.
But the one thing about my periods are that they’re never late. They’re either bang on time like an unwelcome visitor or they’re very early like an unwelcome, annoying visitor. But they’re never late. I’m the one that’s late – for everything. I was three-quarters of an hour late for our wedding much to the fury of Father Brian who either didn’t understand or didn’t care about the tradition of the bride being late. Now if we were talking about my menstrual cycle, that would have arrived to the church on time!
That NYE, as we congregated in the street with all the other revellers and kissed as the clock struck midnight, we just knew we weren’t a twosome – we were three! But I didn’t take the test until two days later – and the little line just yelled out to us that mini Bliss or Techster was on their way.
I was way too stunned to believe it – despite all the numerous signs. Could I really be pregnant so soon after our wedding? We hadn’t even managed to work our way through all the cake and Junior had arrived in record time. I would have felt incredibly blessed if I wasn’t in a state of shock. But as dazed as I was, there was no question as to whether I wanted this baby or not. Hell yes I did!
It was then that Techster decided we should move to be closer to my family, as his were scattered all over the world, and he was adamant that our baby would grow up surrounded by family. So we made plans to move. I was going to leave first while Techster would stay to sort things out.
It was supposed to be the beginning of something wonderful. But instead we were plunged into a nightmare. Just four weeks and three days after I moved, I was rushed to hospital with severe pains and bleeding. Because I was less than three months pregnant I hadn’t told my family (telling my mum would have been the equivalent of tweeting about it!) so the first they knew I was pregnant was when Dad had to bundle me into the back of the car with my sis, bro and mum and speed off to the hospital.
There are so many things about that night I want to forget: the extreme pain; my mum and sis rowing in the waiting room about whose fault it was; the constant throwing up because of the pain before passing out; being laid out in the waiting room because I couldn’t sit up; the callousness of hospital staff who despite seeing my physical state and the distress I was in, did f*** all and made me wait my turn. And when my turn came and my name was called, the bleeding intensified and I knew it was too late…
I actually lost the baby at home… and that’s something I just can’t go in to. there are no words to describe that moment.
When Techster finally arrived, we tried to rebuild our lives but things got worse before they got better. I’ve heard of women losing babies my whole life but it’s only when it happens to you… it’s only then that you totally understand the devastation.
That was my first and only pregnancy. I couldn’t face that disappointment again so I didn’t even attempt to try again…