Infertility., infertility 2%, miscarriage%

Infertility.

October.

12 months since our seventh and last miscarriage.

12 months of hoping. 12 months of dreaming.

12 months of disappointment and heartache. 

12 months of recording dates and using fertility tests. 12 months of planning. 12 months without spontaneity. 

12 months of unspoken words and withheld emotions. 

12 months of frustration, jealousy and guilt.

12 months of hiding away, anxiety growing, mental health deteriorating.

October.

12 months of wondering why people say the things they do. 

12 months of being shocked and upset at the responses, or lack of, of those around us. 

12 months of hearing people tell us how lucky we are to be able to get pregnant the last seven times in the first place. 

12 months of fake smiling and nodding in agreement. 

But suddenly it’s hit me. 

Like a physical blow to my stomach. They were right.

I didn’t feel lucky to have been pregnant and then miscarried seven times. I didn’t feel lucky to miscarry every six months for three years.  I didn’t feel lucky to have 6 operations to complete a miscarriage that my body wasn’t able to complete alone. I didn’t feel lucky to have miscarried in public. To have continued pregnancy symptoms without the pregnancy. I didn’t feel lucky to have scan after scan after scan with nothing but silence in the room. I didn’t feel lucky to watch my husband break down in my arms. To see the hurt on his face and the sadness in his eyes. 

But 12 months later and I have changed my mind.

They were right.

Because 12 months of nothingness is deeper and darker than the 6 years of miscarriages.

It hangs lower and weighs heavier. 

At least beforehand there was hope. A tiny glimmer of hope. 

Now I fear there is no hope. 

12 months of nothingness.

INFERTILITY.

4 Comments

  • Karen MacManus 1st October 2018 Reply

    Oh I feel so so sad for you! I look at pictures of you and read your words…….the sadness in everything is unbearable to see,I cannot imagine that sadness and am eternally grateful for all we have. I wish I could give you both a huge hug.
    Such a lovely family you are, you have to know that if good wishes and prayers were babies you would be inundated xxxx
    Love you Jen x big hugs xxxx

  • Chris Brandenburg 1st October 2018 Reply

    Jen and Al you are so strong. And so brave. You give yourselves freely to a sometimes cold and uncaring internet, and that takes tremendous courage. Your words carry so much weight, and we wish we could ease the burden and the pain. Wishing we could take a little bit of the load off your shoulders. Sending every good thought your way, and taking a raincheck on a hug for now.

  • I agree with you. Miscarriage is really hard (I’ve only had two) but not falling pregnant at all is also really hard (25 months of nothing for me and then the first miscarriage). In many ways, infertility is worse. You’re still grieving but have nothing tangible to grieve. No-one seems to know how to sympathise with you. You have a sense that time is running out, and no-one can give you any answers. Please know that you are not alone, there are many couples out there experiencing the same, even though it’s barely talked about. You are both strong enough for this. ❤️❤️

  • Jen and Al,

    You are not alone,
    You both are by far the strongest people I know.

    Xx

Add a Comment:

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *