Every. Fucking. Time. Every time I have a failed cycle – because that’s the only kind of cycle I have – someone close to me announces they’re pregnant. And this time is no different.
Just before I was about to start my first fresh IVF cycle last year my brother called with the news that my SIL was pregnant. At 39 she decided she’d had enough of a life of cocktails and holidays, and although hadn’t really thought about having kids before decided she would quite like to so they just had one. It’s been really hard but I think I’m getting to the point where it doesn’t hurt too much to see my niece, and I know this will only get easier and of course I love her dearly, but she will always be a reminder that I should have a little one that age.
As I was down regging for my first frozen cycle I got the news that a friend of ours wife was pregs. We’re not mega close with them but it still hurt. They’d been trying for about a year and she was getting really worried and the last time we’d met we talked it all through. Of course I was happy for her but it’s still hard to be left in the no-baby club on your own. And again, seeing her gloriously 8 months pregnant is a painful reminder of what I should be.
A few days after my second frozen cycle I went away with the girls and realised another one of our friends was pregnant – in fact the SIL of the pregs one from our first frozen cycle. I wrote about it in this and this post, and very sadly she had a miscarriage. I haven’t seen her for a while and suspect that she is in early pregnancy hiding.
And this time, 2 weeks after my BFN one of my closest friends emailed me last night to say she is pregs with baby number 2. I knew it was coming – she told me earlier in the year that she would be trying for number 2 this year, as will at least 2 other of my close friends. And she did it in a really sensitive way – she had read up online about the best way to tell an infertile friend you are pregnant which was really sweet of her. Knowing it was coming and facing the reality are two different things – knowing that on my wedding day she will be 7 months pregnant and I should be 5 months but won’t be already hurts so much. And at the moment all I can feel is anger and sadness and bitterness and…
WILL EVERYONE STOP STEALING MY BABIES.
Because as stupid and irrational and unfair as that is, it’s all I can think. You’ve all stolen my babies.
Since coming back from Italy I’ve been waiting for the sadness and grief to hit. It was kind of on pause whilst I was away because I just had to hold it together. Since I got back I’ve felt ok. Not exactly over the moon, but actually ok….to be honest I have been pretty much half-cut since I got back (except when at work!) and whilst I knew this is definitely not a long term solution, for a week or so it helped me through. But I knew I wasn’t dealing with it or facing it. I felt like I was in a safe little bubble of denial.
Last night that announcement popped my bubble and all the hurt and fear and pain gushed out. I’ve been crying on and off since and the deep ache in my heart and gut has returned. The huge hole of misery that I’m so scared I’ll fall into and never get out of. I don’t know how to face it. I don’t know how to deal with it. How do I accept that the ‘never going to be a mother’ option is now very very real, and in fact the most likely? I don’t know how to do this.