Let's start at the very beginning. I grew up in a large loving family. My parents were foster carers and childminders. I grew up knowing I wanted a family of my own, how I would do this was open-ended would I adopt?
I thought I would because I didn't think I could find anyone to love more than I loved my Dad and my family.
Cue the husband...yes I matured, I fell in love. And I moved away from my beloved hometown to live where he had chosen to reside. A year later I got a job opportunity in Hong Kong and we both moved together. Which is where we got married and lived for three years.
It's where I took my first pregnancy test, it's where I had my first positive pregnancy test, it's where I was told I had miscarried! A wonderful city and an incredibly learning curve.
We are now 2 1/2 years down this long path of unknown territory.
We now live in Singapore and we are incredibly in love, we're very strong and yet we're both extremely unsure of what to do and how to deal with the hand we have been dealt. And the thing that I find most difficult.....other people.
Yes if my husband and I could live in a little cocoon of just us we would be incredibly happy and I would have no need to feel scared, anxious or have the need to cry. That is how I feel whether that is entirely true we'll never know because we live in Singapore, we live and work in a city where you have to encounter many people on a day to day basis. And I work in an environment full of opinionated women.
I doubt very much that anyone would ever say anything to deliberately hurt me. But I know that at this point in our journey I am hurt every day almost every few hours by things that people say or do.
And yes I cry most evenings and sometimes in the toilet cubicle at work. And on really bad days I have shed a tear behind large sunglasses on the bus journey home.
I used to be a strong little lady. I was the one that would 'keep the flag flying' my Dad would say. I rarely cried. I remember when my Nan died and I didn't talk to anyone for quite a while, seemed like days in my immature little world but in fact maybe it was hours. However I didn't cry, I always considered crying to be a weakness. So why am I so weak? Why can I not stop myself from crying?
When the doctor told me that my baby was 'no longer living' in a tiny sterile cubicle in a foreign country with no family or friends there to hold my hand. I didn't cry. I let the news sink in and then the doctor prompted me to ring my husband.
I went out into a doctors waiting room with pregnant women all around me to call my husband who was at work completely unaware of what I was about to say and explained that we had two choices. I could go for a procedure that they were calling an 'abortion' tomorrow, what I call a dilation and curettage procedure, or we could wait for 'a miracle' basically for the blighted ovum to pass naturally.
After making the decision with my husband over the phone I has thousands of questions thrown at me whilst trying to deal with what I had just heard.
I was born and raised in the UK with the amazing NHS. I had never had to pay for more than an antibiotic prescription. Now I was having to decide what sort of hospital I should go to, what size room, what type of doctor and anesthetist to use, suddenly there and then I went from being a Daddy's girl of 29 to an independent, decision-making woman of 29.
I went for a D&C because I didn't want any more complications or to wait for something else bad to happen to me.
After the miscarriage we waited, we tried naturally...nothing. So we chose to seek some advice, we were with a fertility doctor in Hong Kong for around 18 months, 12 of these months I was prodded and given drugs that made my hormones crazy. It was like being an alien in a humans body for a year.
Then we moved to Singapore, I had quite a few months with no drugs and realised that I had been living in hell for a year.
Once we had settled in Singapore we chose a new fertility doctor and he slowly talked us through processes. We are now a few days away starting our first round of IVF.
That is one reason to start this blog. I became pregnant after 1 month of trying 3 years ago, when I miscarried I thought to myself 'no problem we'll try again'.
It didn't happen so I thought 'no problem we'll seek help.'
Then after months of investigations and drugs we went through IUI, it didn't work and I thought 'no problem we can try SOIUI'. After trying this procedure I'm at the stage of IVF.
I never thought I'd get here? What next, what if this doesn't work? If someone had asked me that three months ago I'd have cried and said 'I have no clue, what next I'm a failure'.
Now I'm coming to terms with the fact that there is life after IVF. And I need to be positive!
Please note that the opinions expressed by users in Tommy’s Book of #misCOURAGE are solely those of the user, who is unlikely to have had medical training. These opinions do not represent the opinions of Tommy’s and are not advice from Tommy's. Reading individual, real-life experiences can be a helpful resource, but it is never a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment from a qualified health care provider. We strongly advise readers not to take drugs that are not prescribed by your qualified healthcare provider. If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, midwife or hospital immediately. Read full disclaimer