I can’t help but reflect today that if things had been different I would now be 6 months pregnant. With a nicely rounded belly, well even more rounded, and a little one wriggling around in there somewhere. Not getting to enjoy a baileys or bucks fizz tomorrow morning, but instead nesting and prepping our house for the soon to arrive little one. But all that changed after an early miscarriage in August – lovely happy way to start a blog post I know, but please hear me out!
Instead we are now on cycle 7 of trying to conceive. This Christmas Day the only rounding of my belly will be due to a few too many sprouts and spuds. I’m not going to lie that is a painful thought, I would much rather have the above scenario if I am perfectly honest. But as I have found out, getting pregnant is not as easy as the nuns at my Catholic school made it out to be (I have definitely done more than sit on a man’s knee).
I always had immense sympathy with those who struggled to conceive, the years of stress and anxiety, doctors visits and needles only to be followed up with a slim chance of hope. How did they cope? I have no idea, they must have the patience of saints. But what I never really thought about were the people in the middle; those not quite far along enough to have to get tests, but those for who sitting on a knee once or twice doesn’t quite do it either. As we are now in that position, I can tell you its no fun! Each day is a rollercoaster of emotions, hormones, disappointment and excitement.
It started with excitement and planning, book buying and research. Now each day can vary wildly from high hopes and convinced that our bfp is coming today, to sheer disappointment and sometimes guilt. I know that it is no one’s fault, no one can do anything more than just keep trying and try and stay positive. In fact, being negative and stressing is just about the worse thing you can do – but for gods sake please do not tell me or anyone else who is trying to “just relax and it will happen” you are likely to end up on the receiving end of their flying fists.
My grouchy Yorkshire husband is still the calm one, the one who reminds me that it will happen, the one who makes me smile and keeps me moving forward. In the end, this is why we are on this journey to bring into this world a little piece of him and a little piece of me – hopefully this little one will have the sports talents of the Vunipola brothers and Anthony Joshua or the creative talents of Tolkein and Austen.
So! Moving on from the gloom and doom, instead of ‘we are now’ how about ‘we are only‘ 7 cycles in and ‘I am only‘ 27 and we are still excited and committed to bringing our own little geek into this world. Because, in the end thats what this process should be – exciting!
Also, I feel it is necessary to send a great big thank you to all the women (and men) of Mumsnet who have accompanied, helped, encouraged, laughed and cried with me so far on this journey.