My Fertility Journey

Hello again.

I realised yesterday after writing that I hadn't really revealed much about myself in my first blog post. Perhaps I need to explain why I'm remaining anonymous. I work in a secondary school, and while I don't intend to write anything inflammatory, offensive or rude that wouldn't befit my job role, I do want this blog to be somewhere I can write about 'private stuff' that I wouldn't want just anybody (and particularly the kids at school) to know about.

So where to begin. I think I might as well start with the situation that has prompted me to begin my own blog. 

First up, I am a mum to an almost 4 year old daughter- something which, in light of events this year, I never fully appreciated until now. She was an accident (to this day I do not know how she came to be, given the circumstances), and so, when I came off the pill in April 2012, I presumed number 2 would come along just as easily. Not so.

While people around me seemed to fall pregnant at the drop of a hat, I waited month after month for that elusive BFP. Finally in January 2013, a breakthrough! I got my much awaited BFP on New Years Day- a sign that 2013 was my year! I had a scan at 7 weeks which showed a heartbeat and I settled into the pregnancy, much more laid back than first time round.

The date of my 12 week scan came through in late February. I'd already been told as a heartbeat had previously been seen, there was a less than 2% chance of miscarriage. And anyway, miscarriage happened to other people. So when the sonographer turned the screen on and showed me a baby lying there not moving, I went into shock and, I realise now, denial. On the notes, she wrote '10+5 with only a FAINT heartbeat'. I was measuring more than a week behind but I was sure of my dates. They wanted me to come back the following week to check if things had progressed.

To this day, I do not know how I managed to drag myself into work for the remainder of that week. I was in a daze for much of the time, but deep down I think I knew. I knew.

I couldn't wait a week. I had to know. So I booked a private scan. I remember the sonographer telling me he was sorry. I didn't cry. I asked for a photo of my baby. It looked like a baby. I could see its facial features, a button nose, it's little arms and legs. I've added this photo onto here- to me this poor baby existed and I wanted to remember. I did not fall apart. I remained calm while others cried.

I didn't know it then, but it wouldn't be that easy. I've always prided myself on my non emotional, practical mind, but life set out to teach me other lessons, and it's been a brutal few months. I could not imagine at that point the profound effect this would have on my life. I feel only now, 5 and a bit months later that I'm emerging out of the other side. But that journey will probably be left to other blog entries.

Which brings me to where we are now. Well, despite people telling me (perhaps in the hope that it would bring me some comfort) that I'd be pregnant again before my due date (which happens to be one short month away), I'm not. Since the MC, I've identified through charting that something isn't quite right with my cycles. My own doctor is worse than useless, so me and the Mr decided that we'd go private to find out just whats going on. And I guess that's where I am now.

Never, ever forgotten x