The tears aren’t falling.

Next month it will be two whole years since we were told our first babies, Kora and Ava (identical twins) had no heartbeats. It will be two years since I went into labour and delivered them in a silent room with no cries from them as they entered the world but the raw sobs from Neil and me.

It maybe coincidence but this last week I have seen three lots of identical twins. I wonder if my mind is drawn to them like when you buy a new car and then suddenly you see that make and model all the time, it just always catches your eye.

It’s heart-wrenching as it pulls my mind into the image of them at 19 months of age. What would they have looked like? Would they have taken Neil’s dominating genes of dark hair and eyes? What would have been their first word? Would they have both said the same first word?

Then as the parents walk off with them in their pram my thoughts stop just as quickly as my mind had just whirled with them. I don’t go home and cry my eyes out and seeing them doesn’t affect my whole day. It’s just that quick moment in time where my thoughts overwhelm me.

I’ve noticed that I cope a little better than before. It’s not that old saying of time being a healer as I don’t think anyone who has lost a child heals. That grief doesn’t get easier, it doesn’t go away.

I think it’s more that we are learning how to face each day and every new challenge that comes our way. I believe this, as a new challenge that we have NOT encountered can knock us for six. I have mentioned before that I feel it’s about us learning to live in our new norm, in your world.

Our lives will never be the same as they were before yet somehow the girls have given us so much and helped us to become stronger people. I thought I was a strong and resilient person before but now I know for sure that I am indeed that.

I hope that if we are blessed with a child or children together that we will be loving and devoted parents. I hope that our fears and challenges we have faced don’t overtake our rational minds. I hope that Kora and Ava have taught us to be the greatest of parents as after all loving them has been both the easiest and hardest thing to do.

I hope that I can overcome this feeling of what I can only describe as guilt or numbness. For some reason my tears are no longer falling. This time last year I was more emotional and quick to have a quiet sob when I thought of them.

My heart is still shattered. They are in my thoughts everyday, often more than once. I guess because since last year we have lost 4 more babies in very different circumstances we are grieving for them all.

I’m not sure if it’s because we now have so many babies that we have lost, I hold my memories of Kora and Ava closer to my heart. I’m grateful that they were the ones to give me a longer pregnancy, a labour and a delivery. We have their photos and footprints. They were the ones we got to name. They were the ones we got to hold. They were the ones we got to say a proper goodbye to.

They are the ones that give me hope for this coming IVF round. They are all the ones that make hope possible. As scary as it is to think that we might once again be blessed with a pregnancy and face our fears once more, all our babies give us faith that we can face whatever is coming our way.

Kora and Ava gave us so much more to remember and hold dear to our hearts. I guess the tears have been replaced with a warmth for now. I have no idea if this will last or if by their anniversary I will be a bawling mess but right now I’m grateful for all they have given me and continue to give us.

When their anniversary arrives we will be almost at transfer point (if the embryos survive the thaw) so I guess this year we thank them for all they have given us. We thank them for the strength and positivity to embark on the trying to conceive again.

We hope that they know a rainbow baby or babies will never steal their space in our hearts.

It’s all the love you want to give but cannot!

Round Two – again!

Neil and I have started our IVF round two again this month. I say again as we have tried to start round two in January 2020 and March 2020.

The first time was cancelled as we found out the first round of IVF had resulted in a twin pregnancy where we miscarried one and the other was growing perfectly in my tube.

The second time was cancelled due to Covid19 after we had just started to inject. Which leads us onto this third time! I refuse to say third time lucky as I do not believe that luck has anything to do with it. We have been so blessed already so I see it as what will be, will be.

Following a scan on the 13th July I was informed that my womb is now “text book perfect”. The IVF clinic decided that we should take my last bleed as the Day 1 and be put on a long protocol where we started injecting on Day 21.

Neil and I have always taken everything in our stride with all that we have endured and faced whilst trying to conceive. We are very happy to be trying again with IVF but also very realistic. We know only to well the challenges ahead and the lack of guarantees.

Many people don’t understand the IVF process and just how much is involved. More importantly people are often naive as to think that this will result in a pregnancy. I often get comments like “this time is going to work I know it”, “when will you know when you are pregnant”?

There really is no guarantee that IVF will result in a pregnancy or even the chance of having the embryo/embryos implanted. Neil and I have four embryos in the freezer. This round of IVF the clinic will remove all four from the freezer to thaw. There is a risk that the embryos won’t survive the thaw.

The plan is for the lab to watch the embryos if they survive the thaw and implant the best two. If we are fortunate enough for them all to survive then the remaining two will be put back in the freezer. These two will of course be what the lab consider to be lower quality but still able to implant and become a pregnancy.

Before implantation we have to prepare my body. The injections I am taking now effectively shut my body down so that the clinic can control the process for the implant. These injections give me menopause like symptoms. My moods are varied, my patience is thinner, my concentration is rubbish and I’m tiered! So basically I’m a joy to be around!

As we are undertaking a frozen transfer (our fresh resulted in the heterotopic pregnancy) we do not need to stimulate the ovaries to collect eggs. Therefore we will be taking oral medication alongside injections to help my womb lining to grow ready for embryo implantation and pregnancy.

I will also be inserting pessaries, medication that looks like a tampon or bullet that is inserted in either the vagina or bottom twice a day (the choice is mine). This is a progesterone medication (progesterone is a natural female hormone) and it also helps to build the lining of the womb.

I will continue to use the pessaries for up to 16 weeks if we are successful and get a positive pregnancy test. This is the plan from the hospital and IVF clinic due to our previous losses. They are unsure if it will make any difference but it won’t harm me or the embryo to keep taking them.

Throughout this process the IVF clinic will scan me regularly to check my lining of the womb and make sure that my body looks ready to accept the implant of the embryos. These scans are internal meaning they insert the probe up my vagina to look at the womb.

As I am forty years old the recommendation is to have two embryos implanted (if two survive the thaw). This is because my eggs may be poorer quality at my age, obviously our eggs were collected when I was thirty nine. At forty years of age there is a 9% chance that IVF will result in a live birth.

There is research that determines that a single embryo transfer at the age of forty appears to lower the chance of pregnancy. Having two embryos transferred does not mean that it doubles our chances.

If the embryos survive the thaw and are transferred then there is a two week wait before we can undertake a pregnancy test. Having two implanted could result in a positive pregnancy test with one or two babies or it could result in a negative test result.

If we get a negative and are fortunate enough to have the other two embryos frozen again then we have one more chance of undertaking IVF. Although these embryos are considered by the lab as poorer quality they would not freeze them if they did not feel they could result in a pregnancy.

I hope that this clarifies some of what is involved in IVF and indicates a little just how hard the process is both physically and emotionally. I can only apologise now if you are close to me and my moods have changed due to the medication.

We are realistic about our chances and we know more than anyone that there is no guarantees that this will work or even if it does that it will result in a live birth.

For Neil and I we are hopeful that this round might be the one. This is not because we have a crystal ball or anymore knowledge than anyone else but rather because if we don’t have hope that what do we have.

The Right Support

As a self reflective woman, step and foster mum I strive to make sure my well being is cared for. I actively seek the support that I feel I might need to ensure that my emotions and state of mind do not affect those closet to me.

It’s very difficult to know when my mood and emotions are heightened and when to seek the support I need but I think I have managed to remain positive but realistic and have recognised when I need space, time, a chance to talk or even to cry.

I am human and I have to remind myself that at times it is ok to have cried in front of my step or foster daughter. That it is ok to grieve and struggle on occasions when what we have suffered is the loss of our children. It is also ok to laugh and smile with them whilst a pang of guilt strikes at your heart for doing so knowing your other children won’t ever experience that.

If I’m honest I never really know who to ask for support. I often talk to my one very close friend about our losses and fertility journey. Yet somehow later on I feel terrible as I think that she must be so fed up with listening about my fears, worries, losses etc. I hear my voice ringing in my ears and wonder if I asked enough about her day! I’m also aware that she has not had children and probably never will so a pang of guilt strikes again as I wonder if I’m being selfish talking about something she won’t have the opportunity to experience.

I rang the counsellor at the IVF clinic after the loss of our second set of twins. I thought that I might want or need professional counselling at that time. I had one session which helped at the time to reflect and express myself. I never rang again. I guess I wasn’t sure what support I needed from a counsellor or if it matched my needs.

It’s good to talk as people say but counselling is about one person talking and another listening. I was aware that the support I was seeking was probably more sympathetic and understanding through shared/similar experiences.

We have gone to a support group run by a charity for still births and neonatal deaths. Again I was not sure if this was exactly the support I needed and it took us a lot of courage to walk through those doors the first time. I’m glad we did as it was helpful to listen to others experiences of loss and how they cope immediately and over the years.

However I also felt the odd one out again. Most of the women in the group were younger than me, most of them had never undertook IVF as well as having natural pregnancies. When we were there no one in the support group had lost twins. I wanted to relate to someone a little more than I felt at that moment.

At the start of the group they light a candle for their babies they have lost. This is a beautiful symbol and not forced on anyone in the group. We chose not to light candles as we battled internally with lighting one for Kora and Ava or two as they were of course individual babies. We also weren’t sure if our other miscarriage/pregnancy losses were deemed significant within this support group.

I count myself as having 6 biological babies of which the majority I saw their heartbeats but medically none of my babies went past the 24 weeks where they are classed as a viable fetus (terminology I find very upsetting). Even delivering and cremating our children they were still deemed as non viable and labelled as such on forms and medical records.

When we lost the other twins following IVF we were not given any information, advice or support details. It was when I looked on the internet for answers that I found the ectopic pregnancy support group. Again this was not an exact match to our needs as ours was a heterotopic pregnancy but it did provide me with some facts.

This current miscarriage at 8 weeks I was given a card for a miscarriage support group. I found the courage to talk to the nurse and express that I’m not really sure which support group I should access. We don’t seem to fit exactly into any of the groups. Our losses have all been very different and often in the rare statistics.

Throughout all of our losses I have wanted ultimately to talk to someone who has been through similar. What I have learnt is that fertility is still very unknown in the research and medical field and it seems that most losses are very different from each other although there are the norms (none of which we have fitted into).

I’ve realised that professionals and support groups are appreciated and can at times be the right method of support but ultimately I talk to Neil and my closet friend. I find that knowing me as a person and knowing what we have been through makes it easier to talk.

I recently spoke with a nurse on the gynaecology ward and she was very honest in relation to her understanding and experiences with pregnancy loss. She stated that I was more knowledgeable and had taught her a great deal in the short space of time we spoke.

It’s a strange concept to be more knowledgeable in a medical area than a professional as it’s not a training course I would have ever chosen to undertake. It’s frustrating having to go over the background of losses and have to explain again the complexities of our fertility journey.

It’s difficult to talk to friends who have little or no understanding no matter how sympathetic they are as you feel like you have to explain your emotions or justify them. That’s no ones fault, it’s just hard.

I lay my heart on the line when writing in the hopes that it helps others but that doesn’t mean that by reading the blog you have a full understanding of where I am or how I feel. This is not the window to my soul and as a human being everyday can bring a different challenge or range of emotions.

This is just a snippet of our lives, coping with the losses. It’s a chance to show the ups and the downs, the tears and the laughter the strength and the struggles. It’s an honest account of a moment in time.

Love, Laughter, Tears and Heartbreak.

It’s been emotional

Worth the wait

We all know the sayings. It will be worth the wait or all good things come to those who wait. I’ve written before about just how much waiting has been involved for Neil and I in relation to trying to conceive, conceiving, losing our babies and IVF.

More recently I wrote about our miscarriage that we are still going through at the moment. I talked about having to wait for Day 1 and not knowing what exactly is Day 1.

The hospital have confirmed now that I am most definitely not pregnant (as I already knew). My HCG level is now 17. They have apologised for any confusion or heartache that may have been caused over the weekend.

Again Neil and I are not upset that we have been given the wrong information. We just wanted to know what was happening and what is the best thing for us with how my body is coping.

The EPU have booked me in for a scan next week as they believe my Day 1 started Friday and that this menstrual cycle will clear out the remainder of products left from the miscarriage.

At last we now know when my Day 1 started and what is happening. However we are not going to use this Day 1 for IVF. Following a conversation with the IVF clinic (our nurse) we all feel that the best thing to do is to…yes you guessed it, wait!

We are going to wait for my next Day 1 to ensure my womb is a happy and healthy place for our embryos. We were going to undertake a long protocol for our first frozen transfer however we are now going to do a short protocol.

This means less injections of the medication that shuts your ovaries down (gives you menopausal type side affects). In relation to timing we will have the transfer at roughly the same time we were going to if we used this menstrual cycle.

That is, if my period arrives on time and follows my usual cycle. Often this does not happen after a miscarriage. Only time will tell.

So for now Neil and I must wait again. We are ok with this wait as we want to be healthy and happy. It has been a very difficult year already with the loss of three babies, one operation, one IVF conception and one natural.

Next month is also two years since we lost Kora and Ava. I can’t believe that it is two years already. It is always an emotional time for us and I hope that this year we might be remembering them whilst embarking on our second round of IVF.

All this waiting has allowed Neil and I to reflect and talk. This has been vital for our own well being and our relationship. As we always say we don’t know if we will end up with a biological bundle of joy as no one can be sure we will but whatever our future holds we have so much to be grateful for.

In the times we have had to wait we have filled it with love and laughter. We have built memories together and with Alissa (our foster daughter) and Amy (Neil’s daughter). As a family we giggle everyday at the little things in life and for this I can not be more grateful.

In amongst the tears and the heartache we have smiled and laughed. We have picked each other up and faced each day as it arrived. We have shared our grief and pain. We have walked the hardest paths together.

Time is not a healer and each loss has been earth shattering. The waiting has often driven us crazy. What I do know though is that the wait has already been worth it.

We have 6 beautiful babies some that we have delivered and held, some that we have seen their heart beating and some we never got to see. Each one is precious!

Day 1 (or not)

Couples who embark on IVF know exactly what is meant by day 1. It usually signifies the start of your menstrual cycle and the start of a round of IVF.

Following Neil’s and my miscarriage we have been waiting for Day 1 so we could start our IVF round. On Sunday we believed that our Day 1 had arrived. However I have still not seen a Not Pregnant on any test yet. Therefore I asked the IVF clinic if they would scan me to make sure that my womb was ready to accept the embryos.

Unfortunately the news was not great yesterday when we went at 7:30am for the scan. It showed lots of “retained products” (tissue, blood, placenta, baby etc). My scan at the hospital a few weeks ago had stated my lining of my womb was at 15mm. If it had been 16mm then they would have taken me for what people know as a D&C (it’s where they clear the products out themselves).

This scan shows that my lining is at 19.6. The IVF clinic stated that the hospital should now undertake the procedure to remove the products. So off to the hospital I went on my own again due to Covid19.

The hospital in my area will not accept a report or referral from another clinic without scanning themselves. When I rang the hospital it resulted in a very frustrating conversation which left me in floods of tears and looking like that wailing banshee I have often described.

This was because the hospital didn’t see me as urgent (however they had before at the start). They were talking about a wait of about a week and half IF they even decided to carry out the procedure. I was very confused, frustrated and upset. I wanted to know for sure what was happening and have a plan in place. This miscarriage has carried on for 5 and a half weeks now.

People make the assumption that as a woman trying to conceive I am obsessive about having a baby. I expect there are people on my social media that think all I talk about is having a baby due to this blog. This is not an accurate observation. I write my blog because I hope that it will help others. I hope to raise awareness and break down the taboo.

Neil and I have always stated that what will be, will be. We have a plan B that involves just us and not a biological baby/babies. I do not sit at home on my own and cry everyday because we don’t have a baby (it’s fine if that is you and how you cope – no judgment from me). I don’t secretly buy baby clothes or have a journal that I keep with ideas and plans for the baby. Again if you do then please know that I understand and believe that everyone is different and everyone copes and deals in different ways.

For me I just want to have the opportunity to grieve this loss and get back to being me for a while. My hormones are all over the place and I don’t feel like myself. I like to know what is going on with my body and to have a plan in place.

The hospital scanned me themselves and the sonogropher stated that the scan looked very different from last time. She said she doesn’t want to raise my hopes but she thinks what she is seeing is the start of a new pregnancy.

The IVF clinic (when I asked if there was any chance I had fallen pregnant again as I don’t want to have a D&C if I have) told me that the likelihood of me being pregnant was almost impossible as there was no where for the embryo to stick due to the remaining products.

The sonographer at the IVF clinic had stated that I had ovulated from my left side as I have a cyst on my left ovary. The NHS sonographer stated that I had definitely ovulated from my right side.

Why is any of this even important? Well as you know in January 2020 following my heterotopic pregnancy I had my left fallopian tube removed. Therefore if I ovulate from my left ovary then my right fallopian tube has to move across to pick up the egg. Not impossible but makes it less likely for me to conceive from that side.

The sonographer at the NHS was lovely and had a beautiful work attitude yet interestingly I picked up on the “I don’t want to raise your hopes” comment. It was there again that assumption that Neil and I were so desperate for a baby and this would be the best news.

The truth is the statement scared me. My womb did not look a healthy place for a baby to grow. My heart is still grieving and my hormones have not settled from the miscarriage. We also have spoken and feel that a second round of IVF would be the most positive way for us to conceive. We would not only be monitored by the IVF clinic but also the NHS.

This is not to say that if I was in fact pregnant again that quickly that Neil and I would not embrace it and do our best to get the right support.

After the scan I saw a consultant. I spoke with him and said that I thought the likelihood of being pregnant was low. The consultant would interrupt me and stated that he is an optimist and does not look at statistics. He is sure that what he is looking at on the scan is in fact a sac. Therefore he would like a blood test and another scan a week later to see if a yolk is in the sac making it a viable pregnancy.

Neil and I have been very confused during this miscarriage as the clinic and NHS seem to differ with their opinions in relation to what is happening internally and what is the best for my body. In the meantime I have started bleeding again and have pains.

The hospital rang later that day to say that my HCG level had declined to 29. As stated previously when it gets to 25 or lower I will show as Not Pregnant on a test. This made Neil and I question what the NHS are seeing as if I was early stages pregnant my HCG level would be rising.

I told the hospital that since the scan I have been bleeding and have pains. I was told that if I was concerned I should visit the B4 ward to see the consultant. They also told us that they would not repeat the blood test until the following day. Neil and I had no idea if I should or should not be going to the hospital!

I am due to go to the hospital today for the next blood test but I already know the level has dropped. I took another pregnancy test today and for the first time since losing our baby it said Not Pregnant. I assume that the hospital will now scan me again and look at possibly dealing with the remaining products now.

What I do know is it has been a very long and tough 5 and a half weeks! I have visited clinics and hospitals countless of times on my own dealing with another loss. Neil has had to wait for a phone call to be informed about what has happened or what should happen.

I know that every loss has been heartbreaking and very different. I know that you can’t compare each loss and that how your body copes after is not the same. I know that the amount of weeks you were pregnant is irrelevant when you are facing a loss.

I know that a early miscarriage is not a quick process as some believe. I know that the impact physically and emotionally is something people do not recognise.

I know that the medical terminology used can be distressing in itself. The difference in professional opinions can be frustrating. I know now that my relationship and marriage is not talking romantically over candlelight dinners but rather discussing medical processes and plans whilst also speaking about whatever substances have passed through my vagina!

I know that what we have endured whilst trying to conceive would have broken some people and relationships. So I know I’m lucky to have my resilient husband and beautiful step and foster daughters. I know that we have made it through everyday together. I know that somewhere amongst all of this we have as a family still loved and laughed.

I know that WE know that what will be, will be but that WE will be okay.

A Mother’s Cry

A beautiful woman I know of wrote the other day about a mother’s cry. It was the cry of a mother whose child had died. She described it as a raw sound like nothing she had ever heard before.

My thoughts went to my auntie and how she described her cries and screams when the police arrived at her door and told her that her son had died. She also talked about the disbelief of what was being said. A survival strategy to not believe the most horrific news could be true.

It is most definitely a heinous cry. One that most mothers and fathers do not experience and can’t imagine experiencing. A sound that no one wants to hear but if you have then it is one you never forget. I can’t imagine what my aunties husband must have felt when he heard that cry.

It got me thinking to when Neil and I have been told more than once that our babies heartbeats had stopped. Our babies had died. On these occasions it has been Neil that has sobbed his heart out immediately. I, for some reason have not sobbed immediately or made that cry described above.

Please don’t think by that comment that I have not sobbed uncontrollably over my babies. I have done on many occasions in private and often a few days or weeks later.

I wondered why I have never made that cry or scream. I wondered what that meant in relation to my maternal instincts. I started to doubt myself. I am an emotional and sensitive woman so I wondered why to cry or scream was not my initial response.

In reflection and now whilst still going through a miscarriage I feel that my reactions have been delayed. The trauma of losing our babies have been the worst I have ever faced or experienced. I have suffered loss and grief and consider myself to be young to have lost my mum.

I watched my mum live with cancer for three years. I watched her health decline, her mind remain strong but her body literally give up on her. I watched her fight everyday to live.

Mum and I would talk about her cancer and we would plan her years left and even talk about her funeral. I guess we were both preparing for what we knew was coming – her death.

I guess this was the difference. Mum passed before me. We got years together to build memories that I now treasure. When I feel sad I watch the videos of my mum and have the opportunity to hear her voice or laugh again. Small memories flood back from these precious moments captured for me to watch over and over when I want.

I was prepared for my mums death. It was not easy and it still felt like a shock when she actually passed. There were times when it felt surreal. Yet at the same time we were given notice and the opportunity to fill that time with love and laughter. It may have seemed like mum was a different person due to her illness and medication but those memories are now some of my fondest.

When Neil and I lost our identical twin girls in our second trimester we never really expected their death. We never imagined going to their funeral. I guess as expectant parents you assume you will go through the pregnancy and deliver your baby. You will watch your baby grow and develop. You will most definitely pass away before them.

We have never expected to hear that our babies have no heartbeats. We know the harsh reality that there are no guarantees with any pregnancy but we still have hope every time that this will be the one that we hold in our arms for so much longer.

Nothing can prepare you to hear that sentence or to deliver your babies in a silent ward room with the grief laying heavily around the room. The silent tears falling down both parents cheeks knowing that when the babies arrive they won’t hear their little cries.

Not many people talk about pregnancy loss, death of a child/infant or miscarriage. It is a subject still perceived as taboo. A subject that most people would like to avoid.

For years I have watched my auntie break down and cry, wanting desperately to talk about her son. She plays videos of him over and over again. She holds onto every new photo shared by his brother or a friend. I recognise that she wants him to be remembered. She wants him to live on forever. She never wants anyone to forget her beautiful son.

I have also witnessed and experienced myself the awkwardness of others when the tears flow. Or even worse the roll of the eyes because ten years later she is still crying at the loss of her son.

I know this pain! I know how it feels to go to your children’s funeral. I know the emptiness of this grief. I know the loneliness. I know the need to talk and remember your child/children. There is no time limit on grief or loss. No amount of years passed will make losing your child any easier.

No one knows how they will react when they are told their child or baby has died. What I know, is that there is definitely no wrong or right way to react to the most horrific news you can be told. It’s ok to not be ok and it’s ok however that shows or looks.

I will be kind to myself and allow my grief to show how it wants and when it wants. I too like my auntie will talk and cry to anyone that is willing to listen and also to all those who uncomfortably shift in their chair. I will continue to raise awareness and hope to change the way we react to what is seen as a taboo subject.

I will be the change I wish to see in the world. I hope that the small changes I am trying to do will one day add up to the huge results I wish to see. I hope that sharing my most intimate feelings and experiences of the loss of my babies I will help others.

I hope that one day the loss of a child or babies won’t be a grief done alone. I hope that one day people will listen to those parents that have lost their child no matter how hard it is to imagine.

Like waiting for a bus!

We’ve all been there, stood at a bus stop waiting for what feels like an eternity for a bus. I’ve found our fertility journey very much like waiting for the bus. I’ve mentioned in previous posts that the waiting is what can be so difficult especially when you have no control over it.

Unlike waiting for the bus you don’t get a timetable and know what to expect and when to expect it. I wouldn’t say the waiting drives me insane as in the whole I believe I am a patient person, it’s more frustrating.

Take for example IVF. We have decided to try for our second round. We started our second round in March but it was cancelled due to Covid19. Our second round was following our heterotopic pregnancy. When my day 1 arrived (in layman terms the first day of my period) I rang the clinic to prepare for the injections and get our dates from day 21. We were all set with the dates given and when we would test for our pregnancy.

My body had other ideas. Day 1 came again a week later. This meant that we had to start again with planning the dates for certain injections, scans, transfer and pregnancy testing.

The irony is that if my body hadn’t had other ideas we would have been too far along our IVF round and it would not have been cancelled. We thought we were yet again in for a long wait. No one knew how long the clinics would be shut down for and when they could reopen.

As I’ve said previously we were ok with our round being cancelled as we didn’t know enough about Covid19 and the impact on pregnancy or babies.

It was a huge surprise to Neil and I that we fell pregnant naturally again against the odds following my tube being removed and turning 40.

The clinics opened and people were excited to start their fertility rounds again. A few weeks later at 8 weeks pregnant Neil and I were told that our babies heartbeat had stopped at 8 weeks pregnant.

It is now 4 weeks and 2 days since we were told. The pregnancy test I took this morning still says I’m pregnant following the miscarriage. So Neil and I have to wait for my body to recognise it’s not pregnant so I can ovulate and then have Day 1 for our IVF round.

I can’t speed the process up. There is no pill to take to remove the pregnancy hormone or increase the decline of it. We just have to wait. We don’t know how long this will take. We believe we are close to seeing the Not Pregnant on a test.

I’m normally and a glass half full kind of girl but at the moment fear is creeping in. The longer my body takes to ovulate the longer we have to wait for Day 1 and Day 21. My fear is Covid19 and a second wave. I’ve been watching the news about other countries and their second wave. I saw how people met to protest, celebrate a football win and flock to the beach.

The pubs will open soon and as people fill themselves with alcohol I fear social distancing will go out the window. We have already seen that people have ignored the advice regardless of their reasons.

So you see my glass at the moment is half empty as I fear that by the time my body is ready for IVF a second wave may well have hit. We could be back to square one with the clinics being shut and our round being cancelled again.

If we are not affected by a second wave then we will start our second round of IVF and this will involve waiting. We will wait for Day 1 then Day 21. We will wait to have a baseline scan to check that my body is ready to have the embryos implanted. We will wait on edge when they unfreeze two of our embryos. We will wait for the call to let us know if they survived the thaw and reached blastocyst. If they do make it to this stage we will have the two week wait till we can take a pregnancy test to see if we are pregnant.

They say all good things come to those who wait and Neil and I have waited! We have waited with baited breath at scans when we have found out that Kora and Ava had no heartbeats. We waited with excitement and anticipation at another pregnancy when we were sadly told that we had lost one twin and the other was in my tube and I needed surgery. We waited with anxiety till week six to have a scan to be told our baby had a heartbeat only to be told 2 weeks later the heartbeat had stopped.

We have waited every month to ovulate and then test to see if we are pregnant. We have waited for a funeral date to cremate our identical twins. We have waited for autopsy results (for 6 months we waited). We have waited for results of tests to show that everything is ok with the babies we conceive and us. We have waited for hormone levels to drop. We have waited for our baby to pass after medical management of miscarriage. We have waited ten days for my body to deliver Kora and Ava. We have waited for the pregnancy test to still show we are pregnant and haven’t suffered another biochemistry miscarriage.

I guess now we continue to wait. Let’s just hope that the plan for us isn’t like waiting for a bus then three come along all at once! We might have a plan in place and we might be positive but only time will tell what our future holds and for that we will just have to WAIT and see.

Pin Cushion

I have been to hospital three more times. We thought the miscarriage had come to an end but I had a sudden loss of considerable amount of blood following some abdominal pains. Unexplained and unexpected. I only bent over and that’s when it happened.

I am not asking for sympathy and I write about the detail because I hope that it helps other people in this situation. It is often mistaken that a woman miscarries and then that is it, they can bounce back and try again for their rainbow baby. The understanding around pregnancy loss and miscarriage from our experience is very low.

The isolation and loneliness is probably one of the hardest factors. At the moment this is impacted even more by Coronavirus. Even the support groups are impersonal as they have no choice but to use online options.

As talked about previously I am also showing as pregnant still (nearly 4 weeks on from taking the medical miscarriage medication). The bleeding wouldn’t be the start of a menstrual cycle due to the fact my body still believes it’s pregnant. To be honest I’m feeling a little let down. My hormones and emotions are all over the place as my body is playing games with me.

The hospital carried out vaginal swabs to check for infection, observations, a urine test and a two blood test (days apart) to check the pregnancy hormone. The urine test came back as negative for pregnancy and after the swabs I was sent on my way to await a phone call for the blood test results.

The doctor did state that their urine pregnancy tests are not the best. I was left feeling a little confused how a well known brand could say I am 2-3 weeks pregnant but another urine test could say I’m not pregnant.

Later that day the hospital rang and said the blood test showed my hcg level at 313. The hcg hormone should decrease rapidly after an early miscarriage. This is not to be mistaken with a later pregnancy loss where the hcg level can take up to 11 weeks to leave the body. This level shows the pregnancy hormone is still there.

The nurse stated that they want to carry out a repeat blood test to check the levels again and see if they are dropping. I feel like I live in the hospital at the moment and can’t help but feel this continuation does not help with my mental state of mind.

I also took another pregnancy test a few days later and it showed that I am 1-2 weeks pregnant. This was the first sign that the hcg level must be dropping. My second blood test showed the level to be 151. The level has to get to 25 or below for your body to recognise you are not pregnant and start to ovulate again.

It’s difficult and confusing to take pregnancy tests and see it state pregnant when you know you are not. It is also surreal to be wanting to see it say Not pregnant!

Neil and I also had our IVF consultation regarding my blood test the other day which they call a mini miscarriage test. I feel like a pin cushion with all these blood tests.

They are checking for a inflammatory disease that some women don’t know they have but can cause recurrent miscarriages. They are also checking if my blood clots and that causes me to miscarry.

I suspected and have always felt that what Neil and I have been through has been cruel acts of nature. That there is no reason for our losses other than it happened. This test would tell us if it is my body that is causing the losses.

The results of the test came back as negative. My blood is not the cause or reason and I do not have an undiagnosed inflammatory condition. On the whole I feel relieved to know that it is not my body letting us down. Our babies are healthy and we don’t have any underlying conditions that would cause miscarriage.

I’m trying to look on the positive side of these results knowing that there is absolutely no reason why Neil and I can not go on to have a living baby. We don’t know why we have been through what we have and there is no reason for our heartbreaking losses (other than our MCMA twins). There is hope for our future.

Now we just have to wait for my body to catch up and recognise that it is no longer pregnant. I guess for me this is the difficult part. The world carries on after you have announced your sad loss but people don’t always realise just how long it takes for the hormones to leave your body.

You feel pregnant but you are not. You feel emotional due to the hormones but there is no quiet smile on the inside because you are blissfully pregnant. You feel betrayed by your own body. Everything is screaming physically that you are pregnant yet your heart and mind know that you are not. Your world came shattering down when you heard those words “sorry there is no heartbeat”.

The best way I can describe it is you have been invited to the office party but everyone forgot to tell you it wasn’t fancy dress anymore. You are literally the clown in the office party but the joke is on you!

I have taken and had so many tests since we started trying to conceive. I have had so many scans, blood tests, injections, pregnancy tests and more! I never really anticipated just how many tests would be involved. Although all the tests are showing positive results I can’t help but feel like a failure still.

We have a plan in place. We will undertake our second round (again as it was cancelled due to Covid19). The doctor has recommended two embryos being transplanted IF they reach blastocyst. The NHS are going to scan every 2 weeks and monitor us IF we fall pregnant and I will be given 16 weeks of pessaries rather than 7-10 weeks.

Now we just need my body to stop thinking it’s pregnant so we can start our new plan. We will be kind to ourselves during this time and talk about our grief. We will look to a future with optimism and hope as there is no medical reason for us not to fall and carry successfully and as this helps us with our losses.

Are you ok?

A very British question that is often asked frequently and as part of our everyday general conversation and greetings. It is a question that has always bothered me particularly with our British culture of having a stiff upper lip (showing fortitude and stoicism in the face of adversity, or exercising great self-restraint in the expression of emotion).

What is the intention in this question, are you ok? Is the person generally asking or genuinely interested? Is it the norm to ask and expect a nonsensical response? Is it just something we say in politeness when we in fact are unaffiliated with any response?

My phone has barely rung since the loss of our 6th baby and although it has pinged with numerous texts, on the whole they have felt noncommittal or a gesture that is to make the sender feel that they have done their duty (so to speak) rather than for the recipient.

This is not to say that there hasn’t been a handful of very kind gestures and well intentioned actions to which we are grateful about. We also understand that with everything going on and nothing being the way we were used to, times are difficult for all and everything is relative.

There has recently been many advertisements and raising awareness around mental health, (rightfully so). It is a start however I think most would agree there is much more work to be carried out within this topic especially in regards to increasing knowledge and understanding. Yet infertility, grief of pregnancy loss, babies or miscarriage is still to reach even this point. We have found that through our pregnancy losses that people would rather avoid talking or listening.

The most recent advert around mental health has people with sticky notes on their heads with a word that expresses a feeling or emotion. The advert is predominantly around talking and expressing ourselves. The concept of its ok to not be ok. An openness to discuss a difficult situation. The opposite to that British stiff upper lip concept.

Yet my finger hovers over the keys as I wonder how to answer that question “Are you ok”? I wonder if it was the easy option in this busy world to drop a text or a message rather than to spend some time listening. I wonder if the person has messaged this as they can’t face listening to me. I wonder if they feel happier in themselves for being the caring person to quickly send the message without that burden of actually hearing my pain.

I consider messaging back a very true and heartfelt account as to why I am not ok. It’s been under two weeks since we lost another baby so no, I am not ok. I am not ok as some believe time is a healer and it is two weeks since we were told I’m sorry there is no heartbeat and it was an early loss anyway.

I am not ok as it was my 6th baby. It does not get any easier and every loss has been as earth shattering and heartbreaking as the loss before. I haven’t miraculously gained a coat of armour that protects me from the grief and loss. It’s not something that I have come accustomed to, nor will it ever be.

With an anxious heart and mind I allowed myself to get excited to think that maybe just maybe I will hold this baby in my arms. That maybe just maybe I will be the sleep deprived parent that wants to post or state how tiered I am. That maybe just maybe I might be the parent that shows off the photos of my beautiful bundle of joy. We all know that this was not the case so no, I’m not ok.

We might have a plan and we might be positive people who appear to be resilient but ultimately no, I am not ok. I am not ok with the comments like “you still have time”, “you are still young”, “I am sure you will have another one”.

Firstly, how are you sure? Can you see into my future? Do you know the reasons medically or any other reason why this happened? Can you guarantee that a future pregnancy will result in me bringing a biological bundle of joy home? If your mother, father or partner dies, you could not imagine someone suggesting they can be replaced or another might come along. Yet it is deemed ok to suggest this to me a grieving mother that somehow a rainbow baby will make our losses seem less significant!

No, I am not ok as this has been the hardest loss to deal with due to lockdown. I have not been able to have my husband at my side during hospital and medical appointments. I have not been able to have a friend pop round for a cup of tea and sit in my house. I have not been able to have a cuddle from my closest friends and family outside of my household. I have not been able to call my mum and talk about what we are going through as she died nearly six years ago. Neil and I have not been able to go for a nice meal to have quality time together in a ‘normal’ setting as we have done previously just to feel like the couple that haven’t lost a baby (again).

Today I am having a difficult day. Everything seems too much. Whether it’s the time of year, the restrictions of lockdown and loss of freedom, the pregnancy hormones that still haven’t dispersed or the build up of feelings and emotions and the lack of personal connections and interactions. Maybe it’s all of the above and more.

Today I burst into tears in Tesco when I was challenged for going down the aisle the wrong way by a staff member. It was an oversight on my part and a mistake because my mind was all over the place. Of course he (the staff) had no idea how hard it was for me to queue to get food essentials and face the public. He had no idea how hard it was for me to get out of bed and put on the brave face as I went about my daily chores. He had no idea as I turned the corner and burst into tears.

So in answer to your question, no I am not ok. I want you to know that if I ask you at any point if you are ok then I do genuinely care and I want to listen. I hope that I am the person that picks up the phone or sends more than just a message or text at a difficult time. I want you to know that you can answer the question honestly and I will ask it again without the fear of your response.

I can’t guarantee that I will always get my response right after all I am human too. But I promise you I will be kind and I will try. I will listen and I will try to be the person that gives you my time no matter how busy my life is. So if you want to honestly open up to me then I am there for you even though I’m not ok.

It’s ok not to be ok.