Infertility is not a bad word!! You don’t need to do this alone. You’re not alone. I share my story to help break the silence, to give insight to others of this horrible and heartbreaking journey. To give strength.
Please feel free to share your story too, your feelings, or just to vent. I’m happy to answer questions about any part of my journey too. Even if it’s not for you, but for a friend who might be struggling to conceive and you want to help xxx
It’s the end of a very long 2 weeks.. and i’m so tired, my tired is tired! But I can’t sleep because the cocktail of medication is causing insomnia 😦 argh!
My last 2 weeks looked something like this:
• 2 hospital visits for 2 very painful (and humiliating) procedures
• 26 injections in my tummy
• 9 blood tests (all at once)
• 10 new steroid tablets
• and diagnosed with an autoimmune disease
I’m exhausted, and shattered inside. Yesterday I broke, for the first time since I started this journey 3 and a half years ago, I lost hope. I wanted to give up.
Yesterday I spent the day in hospital. A weekly occurrence these days.
Lying on a bed in theatre, surrounded by 3 nurses and 1 doctor. Wearing a horrible white hospital gown, naked from the waist down and my legs up in strirrups.. waiting to be poked and prodded with this next procedure. I sobbed. A moment came where I felt like yelling, that’s it.. I can’t do it. I’m done. The universe won. i don’t want to be a mum, I can’t do it. I wanted to jump up, put my clothes back on, get in the car and just drive away.. but I didn’t. I lay there, quietly sobbing while a nurse rubbed my arm and told me to take deep breathes. She told me I was strong, I loved her for that. And I gave her a big hug after. I needed to hear that.
It hurt. Oh my, did it hurt. I was having a HSG tubal patency test. There were inserting a catheter into my uterus, inflating a balloon, and then injecting an iodine dye solution. The iodine would travel through my Fallopian tubes (just like an egg and sperm would travel) as an X-ray machine hovers above clicking away to watch for any blockages.
The pain is intense, so sharp and it comes on so abruptly and strong. I wasn’t prepared. I’m told that not everyone gets such intense pain, that it’s most likely because my period pain is bad. Just my luck, I thought.
I think it was the exhaustion that made it worse. I’m strong, I’ve never known how strong I was still I started this journey.. but I was exhausted. I didn’t want to be subjected to more pain again, I didn’t want more bad news. I didn’t want to be on public display. And I just want this to be over so much.. I just want to hold my little one.
And that’s when I broke inside. Part of me just lost hope. I was still sore from only having to had a biopsy the week before, followed by 9 blood tests, diagnosis of a new disease and starting a fresh cycle of IVF. This new wave of pain, and humiliation, was almost more than I could bare. My brain kept asking why me? Why do other women not have to do this to have a baby? Haven’t i done enough? Proved my worth?
Like nearly every single women (and man) wishing for children that don’t come.. I wanted to be welcomed into the mothers groups, feel like I belong with ALL my friends who are now mums. I want to matter, I want to lift this fog and isolation. I want this pain and longing to go away. I want to make my husband a daddy!!! I want Christmas with presents under the tree and a little one too excited to sleep. But mostly I want that moment.. my baby in my arms, and the world a happy place. My life complete. My heart full.
But I did it, AND I’m happy to report my tubes are clear. There’s no blockages. And just as I was about to leap off the bed, to make my run for the door after the nurse removed the catheter and balloon.. the nurse halted me, she said instead I had to shuffle, with a sheet between my legs to the bathroom.. with my gown open.. tears streaking my face. What goes in must come out.. and the idodine solution was having gravity take over. Dignity? Nah I lost that the moment I started this journey.
Making a baby is the fun part…?? I think I don’t understand what fun is.
To all the women and men who are also on this journey, I’ll send a little prayer into the universe for you too. Don’t you dare give up. You are strong.
Now i get to “rest” (in between my cocktail of injections and medication) for a couple days till my next scan. I’m going to enjoy not being sprawled on a table, and I’m going to crochet. And I’m going to keep trying.. and keep breathing. I am strong. I will be a mummy, I just hope the universe is listening.
Love Nat xxx