My husband and I have been together since we were 18. Both university students when we met, we knew we'd get married and, so we thought, eventually have a family. If only we'd known then what we know now.
We decided to wait a while, taking holidays, establishing careers, buying a house, then buying a bigger house. All in preparation for our family. Or so we thought.
Time just seemed to whizz by and I was 37 when we decided to stop preventing pregnancy, and just seeing whether we would strike it lucky. I was determined not to become one of those people who obsesses about ovulation, temperatures, mucus etc. It just wasn't us.
We were delighted to get that positive test 5 months after we started trying. So delighted that, foolishly, we told everyone. For the 6 weeks we were pregnant we were ecstatic.
Everything was mapped out.
Until on a weekend away, those plans disintegrated. First it was the back pain, then the bleeding, then the epu, the scan that showed nothing, just nothing. The cold attitude of the staff in the hospital, in a strange town. Then more pain, more bleeding, more tears. For the next few weeks we wandered around in a daze, not quite grasping what had happened, how it had all been taken away so suddenly.
But, as glass half full people we slowly started to see the positive side - we could get pregnant! My sister in law had gone through the emotional turmoil of IVF, but hooray - we wouldn't need that. We told ourselves that all we'd need to do is get pregnant again, this was just one of those things.
Three months later, and that second positive strip on the test made our hearts skip a beat once more, but this time with panic. We were careful not to make the same mistake again, only telling two of our closest friends. For another 7 weeks, we hoped, we prayed. But the same happened again. And for a third time too.
We felt like we were being punished for something. Why can teenagers get pregnant by mistake after a one night stand, and we can't stay pregnant? Why are there parents who don't care about their children, yet we can't have a child? Where's the fairness in that? I was angry, confused, angry and angry. It just wasn't fair.
We had tests, tests galore. All inconclusive. Zip. Nothing. Nada.
Four years later, we're still seeing whether we will strike it lucky. But now I'm 41, and only too aware that time is ticking and our options are becoming more limited by the day. We're starting to come to terms with the fact we may never have our own child, and are starting to consider whether adoption is the right avenue for us.
Through all of this my husband and I have been stronger than ever, but a tiny part of me worries that one day he'll wake up and decide my inability to carry his child to term is a deal breaker. After all, I'm convinced it's my fault, that a medical condition I have is the problem.
But for now, we'll take each day as it comes and continue carrying each other, supporting each other, loving each other, and still seeing whether we'll strike it lucky.
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