The storm of restoration and hope

Last week we went on holiday to Edinburgh, where we met, married and lived till 3 years ago. It was the first time we'd had quality time together since the miscarriage and really felt like coming up for air in the midst of our infertility and loss storm. I called it our restoration holiday and it definitely felt like that.

It was so nice to have quality time together to reconnect and just be together. The last year and a half every spare moment together has been spent on project IVF one way or another. Even when we've focused on our marriage it's been obvious that something else had been our true focus. We were able to talk things through and just enjoy time together.

We were also able to catch up with old friends and share battle stories together. They are fighting very different battles to is and each other but the 2 separate friends we had proper catch ups with have both had recent sufferings to deal with. They are both fighting with God alongside them in the battle as we are trying to and it was encouraging to hear stories of challenges and of hope. It also helped me realise that you never know what battles people are fighting. Infertility is, often, a really long and drawn out period of suffering with no real end if you never manage to have a child. It's also a secret battle as these things often are. You deal with things internally and many things exasperate pain inadvertantly but you carry on fighting.

Being together has helped to restore our relationship and our resilience for future battles. It has also helped to restore my hope that one day I will be Mummy. The IVF failure and the miscarriage seriously rocked my faith in God. He promised us children and twice we got close then it was taken away from us. I didn't know what to do with that. I still don't if I'm honest but I feel like I can trust God again. He's big enough to deal with my doubts and uncertainties. What's more he's tangibly been with us through all the dark times and let me get angry and whatever at him! I don't know why we've lost our babies and I probably never will but I know that God keeps his promises so we will have children. I can have hope in that. It's struck me that God never promised we would have the first baby I got pregnant with. Just because we lost these doesn't mean it's the end. We still have embryos frozen and even if we didn't the promise still stands.

We looked round the national gallery while we were in Edinburgh and came across the painting pictured in this post. It's a painting of Niagara falls by an artist I've not heard of. To me though, it speaks of our infertility and loss battles. The churned up, stormy looking waters represent the months of grief, countless IVF complications and difficult diagnoses and marital tensions. This takes up most of the picture. There's also a snapped off branch at the side which signifies surprises along the way that we get snagged on. If you look closely you can see people watching the rushing waters. I'm sure that's what some of our wonderful support network can feel like, that all that can do is look on at our stormy waters, it's only us in it, a lot of the time. However the stormy, messed up waters are not the complete picture. There are little patches of brightness and still waters. To me those are the happy times in the midst of the storms. They are the little flashes of hope that we can miss it we're not careful. The other thing I noticed in the picture was the small rainbow in the bottom right-hand corner. In the world of infertility and baby loss a child after loss is often referred to as a rainbow baby. This gives me an obvious reference to our baby that will come to us after all this storminess and struggles. It's also worth noting that there are some rough waters beyond the rainbow. A healthy reminder that our struggles will not all magically end once we get our rainbow baby. We will love our baby and be over the moon that our prayers have been answered but are under no illusions that our lives will be free from suffering after that!

Support through the pain

We finally made it to an infertility/miscarriage support group some days ago. The group started towards the end of last year and was something I knew we needed to be part of. However my crazy, short notice rota has prevented me from getting there till this month (it's a monthly group). There weren't many people there but it was such a worthwhile evening for us. Sharing stories and frustrations with people who have been through and are currently going through similar experiences was a beautiful if painful thing. A running theme in the stories shared was how easy it is to feel lonely and isolated during infertility and miscarriage. I have certainly felt that although I've had lots of support lots of the time. I'm incredibly grateful for my support network but miscarriage and infertility is such a hidden grief it's possible to feel lonely even when surrounded by supportive friends and family. Hopefully over time I can build relationships with other women in the group and we can break through the isolation together. I've found great support and release from isolation by spending time with friends who have been through similar experiences however they have kids. Sometimes that is a comforting reminder to me that children can come after tragedy. Sometimes it's a painful reminder that I'm still in the trenches. I love those friends and don't want to stop getting support there but if I can be a mutual support to someone in the group well, great!
After the group I had a virtually sleepless night. I found myself reliving my miscarriage experience in my mind and it felt even more raw and painful than when it happened. I'd also pushed myself hard in a running session that day and was in physical pain from that which didn't help. It meant the next day, which was a12 hr shift was one of the hardest days I've had in a while. I made it through by getting people to pray for me and managing to fit in a20 minute rest away from everything. I'm not going to stop going to support group because I think the benefits will far outweigh the difficulties. Next time though I'll make sure I cover myself in prayer first as I can't relive the pain every month.

No less a woman

Today is international woman's day, Sunday was mother's day. It's got me thinking about the way infertility and miscarriage have changed the way I think of my identity as a woman. I know there's more to womanhood than bearing a child and being a mother but I feel that there's a certain expectation of those roles in today's society. Everything seems to be geared towards children and families and there seems to be an expectation that the natural progression for a woman is to become a mother. I long to be a mother but it's not happening for me. I have moments when all I want to do is hide from all things baby and child related but that is really hard to do. I'm speaking as someone who wants to be Mum but can't but I'm aware that there are plenty of women who don't have the desire or inclination for Motherhood. Maybe it's because of the intensity of my desire or the obvious failure of my pregnancy but I feel like society views all woman who are not mothers as failures. I'm making generalisations here and taking about the overall view of society as a whole. I'm part of an amazing church community where I feel thoroughly supported and not at all like a failure. However the Church doesn't decide what's on TV or in newspapers or sold in the shops. It does feel like my status as a woman is lacking something and society seems to rub my face in it a bit! I'm not moaning here I'm just trying to figure out how I think about my own identity. Ultimately I know my identity is in Christ, I am loved by God whether I have a baby or not. I'm also a mother even though I have no living children. It's just hard when society seems to equate being a woman with being a mother. Especially when I would give anything to be a mother of living children.