SAYING ANOTHER GOODBYE

I'm sorry for the radio silence over on this little blog of mine, I was hoping to tell you some exciting news and that I've been super busy with fun projects – which is partly true – but unfortunately there's another reason why no words have been posted... we've been saying another goodbye.

The last two months have been a roller coaster of emotions. After coming to terms that a second child would be unlikely after already suffering two miscarriages in the past and not being sure whether I could put myself though it again, out of nowhere I found myself staring at two pinks lines. To be honest I was in shock, it was totally unplanned and unexpected and seemed to come along just as I had decided that one child was enough for me.

I think it took a week for it all to sink in. This was happening. It was actually happening and F would have a sibling, and I would have another babe in arms.

After some pains I know oh so well at five and a half weeks, I thought it had all been a bit short lived and an appointment was made for a scan at six weeks. I went to the clinic in tears, knowing what to expect, feeling awful for putting my body through this again, only to be surprised with the news that I had been carrying twins and had miscarried as I had thought, but only one. There was still one baby, it's heart beating away, holding in there.

Awash with new hope as my tummy grew and further scans showed the pregnancy progressing well, naively I relaxed a little. I was feeling exhausted but well in myself, and started to let my mind wander a little to the December due date, although slightly laced with doubt, not fully wanting to let myself indulge in these happy thoughts.

At the beginning of this week I was given the news that my baby's heart had stopped. Another silent miscarriage. Once again I was being wheeled into surgery, staring at magnolia walls and cups of NHS tea. I didn't feel like crying, to be honest I didn't feel anything, just numb or perhaps going through the motions. Only as they were administering the anaesthetic did the tears start to well up and fall, and I felt someone take my hand until I went under.

Now I'm back at home, resting with my empty belly. Still feeling very up and down but throwing myself into work for a bit of distraction and letting the tears come and go. It helps to write and share it, I know how isolating a miscarriage can be, how sad and destructive it can become. For me it's easier to be open, to let all these emotions wash over me and there are so many. It's hard to keep track of my head at he moment but I can feel the weight of my heavy heart.

After loosing baby Alex at 15 weeks due to Parvovirus and my second miscarriage, it seems there is no rhyme or reason to it all, just bad luck. Three miscarriages in a row. And so it's back to daily life and I know I'll be OK, it just might take a little bit of time. It's hard being a mama.

WHEN ONE IS NOT ENOUGH

My mind keeps drifting back to that long day which ended with a new babe in my arms. A small pink squirming life, eyes like dark pools blinking up at me against the harsh strip lighting overhead. I recall how this new person was thrusted up under the hospital nightgown, ready to nestle against my breasts and hear the familiar heartbeat that had had kept him company for those nine months.

I have always wanted a large family, a house filled with loudness and laughter, chaos and love. Excuse the rose tinted glasses for that's all I have. In the first year of F's life I was so immersed with this new being that I could not think of sharing my love with another, but in the back of my mind I was quietly confident that soon a sibling would join us and those childhood ideals of mine would come to fruition. As some of you might remember I have touched upon the subject of loss, a tiny snapshot of grief. As these years have blurred by my confidence in conceiving has dwindled. Two babes gone in two years.  Each time I move forward, and as F grows I am able to claw more of myself back, not tied to those hourly night feeds or baby attached at the hip. I flex the small amount of independence gained with this ageing boy, the solo weekends away, nights out with friends, the ability to stay up late and to go work.

I swing between the want of more children and the new found freedom I have, like a pendulum in a clock. Back and forth, ever changing. Each month I wonder if I'm fooling myself either way, whether I know what I actually want. Then I'll have a grizzly day, where F won't eat the food I spent lovingly preparing, my patience runs thin with the constant repeating myself or a tantrum is thrown in for good measure. In that split second I forget how precious a gift he is and I mentally wish away the years.

Then all it takes is one moment caught off guard, siblings playing, a film, others happy news. In that moment the tears flow and I know that one is not enough.

THANK YOU

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I just wanted to write a quick post to say a big thank you to everyone for all of your kind words and thoughts sent my way during the last few weeks. I have heard from new friends and old, family,  bloggers, other mamas who have faced similar events, lost school friends, strangers and old flames all extending their hand out to me when I faced a dark place. Each moment of kindness has lifted my spirit and focused my mind. It has brought a smile to my face and touched my heart. Your words have cost nothing but are priceless. Not to get too mushy but I am feeling positive moving forward and some of that is because of you.

So thank you x

TAKING SOME TIME

You may have noticed a few weeks ago this post which spoke of hardships endured. Once again I have been silent on the blog as my small family has struggled through the last few weeks with heavy hearts and a fighting spirit. After loosing Alex mid-pregnancy last year it left me shellshocked and heartbroken. I struggled for what felt like an age to grasp a sense of myself again as life carried on around me. F was my driving force, if I couldn't be OK for me then I would do it for him. Pulling myself together with the help of friends, family and counselling, I faked a smile until it came back naturally with time and carried on. I never quit my dream of a large family, house bursting with energy and noise and the idea of those cosy winter nights all together. So we tried again.

For fourteen months nothing happened – maybe this was how long my body needed to heal – until last month. I pee'd on a stick and saw those two beautiful lines. I was pregnant. Finally. Our little flat once again filled with excitement and optimism. I was so confident that this time would see me with a babe in arms and I happily gave up on my love affair with coffee and focused on my belly. But for some that is not the way life unfolds and nature can be cruel.

After a week of pain, I was admitted to hospital for a potential ectopic pregnancy which after three days was ruled out. But something was amiss. The doctors told me to hang in there and be positive but it was clear within a few weeks that I had suffered a silent miscarriage. A silent heartbreak.

With no sign of my body doing its job, I underwent surgery to have everything removed and sent home empty. As I sat sipping my beloved coffee once more, people chatting around me, I wonder if they can feel this weight upon me. I lift my cup and take a sip. Autopilot engaged once more.

I will pick myself up, dust myself off and be OK. These things just take time.