Our first wedding anniversary marked another chapter in our life together, we embarked on our quest to start a family.
Things started with much excitement but after months and months of trying, the excitement gave way to worry. Finally after a year of trying (and tests) we finally had a glimmer of hope with that first faint line of positivity.
But it wasn't to be, a few days later our hopes were dashed.
Another six months of trying went by and luck seemed to be in our favour again. We had our big fat positive pregnancy test. With plans of announcing our news to our family on Christmas day, our hopes were dashed again just before we could action our plan.
Luckily for us, we didn't have to wait too long until our luck struck again. We were cautiously excited, trying not to get our hopes up.
But again, it wasn't to be and with the worst timing ever as life had thrown a lot of big ups and massive downs on the same week. It brought me to the brink of despair, something it was hard for my husband to watch whilst dealing with his own feelings of loss.
Our last miscarriage was the hardest, and the most traumatic emotionally and physically.
It left me avoiding pregnant women and conversation about babies at all costs, even avoiding my own sister for a while as she was expecting and her due date was only days before when ours was supposed to be. I was heartbroken and it was too painful to deal with. It was only when she found out that they were having another little boy, that I felt a light switch had been turned on and I could enjoy their pending arrival.
With my miscarriages, I felt guilty for the jealousy I felt towards pregnant women. Disappointed in myself for not being able to be happy for couples we cared for when they announced their happy news of new arrivals or expecting news.
I just wasn't a happy person, I was angry. Angry at the world for us being the one in four again, angry at myself for feeling the way I did but I knew I couldn't lose hope.
I clung to the idea that at least 3 other women got their wish and I had taken one for the team......again! It would be my turn next.
Finally, after 3 years to the day we began our journey, we finally received what we had desperately hoped and prayed for, our gorgeous miracle baby. It was a long road, lined with caution and uncertainty but it was a road worth taking.
For all those ladies (and men) out there.....never lose hope. There will be a light at the end of the tunnel, although it maybe not be what or when you expected, you will survive and be stronger for it.
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