Saturday, 20 August 2011

Day -2

As a retrospective first post I remember how my heart filled with joy at the sound of my husband mentioning the word "baby". He didn't even say "baby" though, he said "babies". It's been such an uphill slope for both of us we barely even mention the desired outcome of our struggle toward parenthood. Neither of us could have imagined how traumatic an experience this would be, emotionally, physically, socially and potentially financially if we fail to conceive on the NHS system. But tonight he mentioned it. He said "babies" and inside my world is smiling at him. Loving him. Appreciating how even though he talks so little about it (and I want to talk about it all the time) he is still thinking about it. He will make a great Daddy. He plays with our puppy like he has four legs and a tail himself and was tonight talking about how we are going to budget buying a bigger property so that we have enough money to give our "babies" a great life. he's the bestx

How did we get here? I have wanted to be a Mummy since I started to leave the habits of the eating disorder which has taken away so much of my life. I was hospitalised for over a year and came home needing to become a new person and feeling emotions I had suppressed for so many years by overexercising or restricting calories. I could laugh and cry again. I felt anger, fear, happiness, excitement. I had hopes, regrets, fears, ambitions. Most of all though I had a space where I kept the anorexia I had been host to for so long. I had time I used to spend exercising too hard and I had longing for a better life for me and for my husband. I felt love like I had never experienced before and craved for love in return. I had shut people off in the past as they were a threat to my destructive behaviours. Being apart from my family and husband for over a year built up a hunger for that love to fill all the voids that had been created in my life by my turning away from anorexia. I wanted a baby. A tiny baby I could grow inside me, nurture and love. A baby I could look after and share with my husband. A baby which would show how much we loved each other that we could create this miracle. For me it would be a miracle because despite reaching a health weight I never developed a menstrual cycle. But the miracle happened and I found out I was pregnant on hogmanay 2009. I was so proud of myself and those 6 weeks were the happiest of our lives. We picked names and spent hours reading books on how big our baby was and which part was developing as we read. Our dreams were shattered when a 13 week scan failed to pick up a heartbeat and we were told our baby had died one week earlier. I was operated on twice afterwards as the first surgery failed to remove all the tissue and complications afterwards left me bleeding for 5 months. Since then we have been referred to an infertility clinic and undergone 5 cycles of clomid treatment which I have failed to respond to. Each cycle consisted of hopes being built up, and bubbles burst after only a few days when a period would arrive too early for treatment to ever have been successful. We've had to wait 7 months on a waiting list and a few long weeks to get as far as we are now. We've had to take sperm sample for analysis and I had to have a scan. None of this has gone smoothly, convincing me the whole process will be just as much of a disaster as last time but I need to have hope. Desperation keeps me fighting. On  the morning of the first sperm collection we missed the pot and had to make another appointment for a week later. My husband criticises the size of the pots they provide and believes his manhood must be wider than average given the struggle collection is!!! Next time we were especially careful and succeeded commendably. Only to make our way to the car to find the keys had been left in the ignition overnight and thus the battery was flat. After a quick visit from the RAC the little swimmers finally got to their destination. On the next appointment my BMI came out too low for treatment. This was devastating, especially when I realised that the height the nurse was using in the calculation was wrong and in face my BMI was above the threshold of 19 and this panic was unnecessary. After a tense session with this behind us I was given provera to stimulate a period so I can begin treatment. I've had a miracle before, is it selfish to ask for a second? They go on about Baby dust on sites such as Mumsnet. Such silly talk deters me from using those forums. I am pondering having a quick peep though to see where to buy some, it can't do any harm can it.....

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