Angel Wings…

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

SOMEBODY..

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