Angel Wings…

30th November 2015 – another of my special little angels has their wings ❀️


Somebody said it was all for the best, that something was probably wrong…

Somebody said it was meant to be. Different verse, same miserable song…

Somebody said “you can have another” as if that would make it right…

Somebody said “it was not a real child”. Somebody is not very bright…

Somebody thinks it wise to say when grieving should end…

Somebody shows their true colours, somebody is NOT my friend…

But somebody said, “I’m sorry” & sat quietly by my side…

And somebody always listened, even though I didn’t know my baby’s name…

And somebody understood…

… I’ll never be the same

– Author Unknown


Life isn’t fair sometimes & right now, life feels rather cruel. Saying goodbye to 3 of my angel babies in 2 months. No mother should have to give her blessings back…

I will write another blog post about this miscarriage soon, explaining this part of My Story. But right now my heart just hurts…
Love Nat xxx



Part Five of My Story – today I’m angry… I’m grieving…

PART FIVE of my story (Read Part One, TwoThree & Four of my story)

My mantra for today.. being female & not being able to have a baby can leave you feeling like you are useless, defect, without purpose. After all, if you go back to the bare basics – women are BUILT to be mothers.. to be able to make babies. And when you can’t or it’s not working, you feel broken. Less of a woman. Not adequate, have no worth.

And even though you might know deep down that’s it a little irrational.. it still hurts.

Today I’m bitter, & I’m angry. I’m angry at this body, for not working. Angry at my ovaries for letting me down. That they know how much I want to be a mum, & they aren’t working. I could actually scream at my ovaries if I could, if I thought they would listen. But I haven’t completely lost my marbles.. yet.

I’m bitter. So very bitter. And it’s not the person I want to be. And i feel so riddled with guilt at the same time. BUT I can’t help it. I’m not the person I was 3 and a half years ago. Infertility has changed me. What began as sadness and frustration has turned into anger and hopelessness. I’m at war with my own body. With society.
Infertility changes you. It creates a hole inside your heart. A gaping hole that starts to eat away at you from the inside. And as much as you try to stuff that hole with other things. Nothing fits. It’s like trying to jam the wrong piece into a jigsaw puzzle.

I find myself bitter (and even angry) at that pregnant woman.. at that mum… at that complete stranger, or even a friend. Does she have any idea just how lucky she is? I try not to stare. I want to tell her. Do you know you have a little miracle in your belly? Please please love that baby. Please.
I’m sorry, but I want to BE you. Its NOT FAIR. And it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that my body is broken. It’s not your fault that I can’t have babies. It’s not your fault that you CAN have babies. It’s not your fault that I feel this way. But I do… because I’m trying SO hard. So very very hard. And it’s not working.

If I’m trying so hard.. doesn’t that mean I’m owed it too? No. Life isn’t fair like that.

But I’m happy for my friends, I’m happy for the lady in the supermarket, I’m happy for that mum. BUT I’m SO sad for me. You are a walking, talking, constant beacon of reminder. Screaming in my face that I’m broken. I’m not enough. I’m not a woman.. I’m not a mum.

Dear pregnant woman.. mums.. my friends… society (what infertility feels like):

I have to give myself a cocktail of medication every day, every month. You don’t. Morning sickness? I have it too. Every day, every month… without a baby, without being pregnant. I have to spend my days horribly sick from the side effects, in a society that doesn’t understand or acknowledge how much they knock you down, mess your head about. Send you on a hormonal rage. You don’t.

I have had to spend THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of dollars for a chance to just TRY for a baby. Month after month. You didn’t. I could have put a deposit on a house by now. I could have travelled the WORLD for 6 months by now. Instead it’s spent on trying to conceive. Trying. I never went on a honeymoon – we paid for IVF instead. We haven’t had a holiday in nearly 4 years – we paid for IVF instead. It should be FREE!! Conceiving a child should be free. But for me, it’s thousands upon thousands on dollars. I’m scared because ultimately I will have to stop trying… simply because of finances. Because I can’t afford it anymore. That it will reach a point in which I won’t have any money to support a child, because I spent it all on trying to make them.

I’m tired. So tired. Emotionally & physically drained. I haven’t slept more than 4 hours a night in years. The medication keeps me awake, the stress keeps me awake.

And you’re awake too, because you have a baby that doesn’t sleep. People empathize with how tired you are. You get to tell people how exhausting it is. I can’t. Society doesn’t accept I’m tired too. I’m not a mum. You look at me when I say I’m tired too, with one eyebrow cocked… how dare I say I’m tired… don’t I see your newborn?! Yes I do.

IF I do fall pregnant I know I won’t sleep again for years either. But did you get to sleep before you conceived? I didn’t, I don’t. By the time baby comes (IF ever) I have years of already not sleeping under my belt. Good practice? No.

Today I’m bitter. I’m angry. I’m not telling you off. It’s not your fault. I have a reason.. for today, I’m miscarrying. Again. Another set of twins. My angel babies are in heaven & in my heart. I now have 8 angel babies in heaven, instead of in my arms.

They matter. They make me a mum. I am allowed to be angry today. I’m grieving. And I needed to let it out. I need to say it. In all its rawness. As tears stream down my face. Because it’s all I can do to let it out. In a society where infertility and miscarriage are talked about in whispers. Why?! It’s ok to talk about it! We should talk about it. Maybe if we did, then we wouldn’t be so angry. So bitter.

Everyone keeps telling me I can just get pregnant again & have another baby…

but I wanted THAT pregnancy. I wanted that baby.

Please do not tell people it wasn’t meant to be – my baby was important, just like yours.

Don’t tell people it’s “Gods Will” that’s so very cruel. Think about it.

Please please give your friend a hug.  Bring coffee, bake a cake. Chocolate is always good πŸ™‚ If someone you know is struggling to have a baby, just be there. If someone lost a baby, let them grieve. Let them know they DO matter. They are still valuable. They have worth. With or without a baby, we are still women.

When women support each other, incredible things happen

Be kind to yourself if it’s you. Infertility hurts, it’s THE hardest thing I have ever done. I hope it’s the hardest thing I will ever have to do. And I do not wish it upon anyone.

And today I say goodbye to my babies, a silent whisper in a quiet room. I will always love you, I will always remember. My babies you will always be.

I have to try again. Tomorrow I have to find the strength, the courage to try this again. It’s all I can do. I want to be a mum. And even thought I’m angry and I’m bitter and I’m drowning in the darkness sometimes… I want to be like you. I want to be a mum. I aspire to be you.

October is Infant & Pregnancy loss awareness month. Break the silence, share your story. We are mums, our babies have wings.

Love Nat xxx

Part Four of My Story… it’s the fun part?

PART FOUR of my story (Read Part One, Two & Three of my story)

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:

β€’ 2 hospital visits for 2 very painful (and humiliating) procedures

β€’ 26 injections in my tummy

β€’ 9 blood tests (all at once)

β€’ 10 new steroid tablets

β€’ 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