Free fall

Even when I don't feel it, you're working.

Oh how I want to believe that right now. I want to believe that God is for me, that He loves me and is good & wants only good things for me. I want to believe He cares. I want to believe He is working. I am trying, and some of the time I am managing to feel close enough to God to feel the comfort only he can give. But the majority of the time I feel like my life, mental health and faith are in free fall. I am falling faster and faster, getting more and more out of control and I have no idea how to stop or deploy my parachute to slow my fall. All I'm aware of is the rapidly approaching concrete and I don't know how to not crack my head open on it.

Life

The most obvious reason I feel like my life is in free fall is the fact that I lost a baby 8 weeks ago. Neil and I and many others had prayed for that baby for over 7 years. After having IVF 4 years ago and losing 8 embryos (including 2 miscarriages), I always thought if I got pregnant naturally that'd be the baby to stay. Maybe that is why this miscarriage is hitting me much harder than the other 2. Maybe it's because we had a scan at 8 weeks where we saw our baby alive and heard their heartbeat. Maybe it's because I made it to 12 weeks this time which is further than I'd ever gotten before. Whatever the reason I am really struggling and feeling quite alone in my grief. Even 8 weeks on I am feeling the loss of our sweet baby as if it happened yesterday. The fact that it was actually 8 weeks ago makes that really hard because, quite rightly, people aren't expecting me to be experiencing such raw pangs of grief as I am. I realised today that when people choose to leave me to process my grief and not offer a hug or a kind word (which may sometimes be the right thing to do), it awakens all sorts of feelings of abandonment and inferiority I thought I had dealt with, making things much harder in my mind.

It's not just the loss of our precious baby contributing to my feeling of free fall. 2 days after I returned to work following my miscarriage I found out that the charity I work for is having a nationwide restructure in which my job role is being eliminated. I have been mapped to a step up role with more responsibility and back to shift work. I have also become, somewhat unwillingly, the staff representative responsible for attending meetings and conveying, often difficult to hear, messages from national office to my local staff team. All of this is happening in quite a tight time frame so it's all a bit overwhelming. The new role is definitely something I can do and do well but not while I'm not in my right mind. The added pressure to make decisions quickly and explain things to everyone else is just making me feel like I am accelerating towards the concrete. I have taken some control in this matter and have saught advise from trusted friends and tried to outsource my decision making (as far as possible). I have now applied for the role (as the deadline was Friday) & got my application proof read. I had to choose between applying for the step up role, resigning or stepping down in role. I am struggling to make even the simplest choices at the moment as I feel like my mind is encased in treacle, so this decision was hard! I decided in the end the best thing to do was to apply by the deadline and then make the final decision later. I don't have to take the job necessarily.

Baby loss, work stress and difficult decisions are still not everything I have going on in my life. Both my parents are dealing with health issues which plays on my mind. I'm not going to share details here as it's not my news to share but it has an impact on my free fall! They are doing ok and my worries on that front have been eased a lot recently but it would be wrong to not include it in this account.

Mental health

I have realised in the past couple of weeks that the problems I am experiencing have now crossed over from simply dealing with grief and stress into clinical depression. I have had depression in the past and I feel deeper in this time. My thought life is murky to say the least. I won't share details here as I know it can be hard for people who love me to read things like that. Suffice to say, for the sake of my life, I need to do something to improve this situation. I have referred myself to a counseling service, although my assessment appointment is not till April. I have made some changes which have helped me in the past and given myself 10 days to implement these changes before reassessing whether I need to go to my GP to get back on my antidepressants. I have upped my exercise level and am trying to eat more healthy food (although I'm aware that's not easy to do whilst grieving). I want to feel better. I want to feel human again.

Faith

This miscarriage, and everything else I've got going on, has rocked my faith in God like never before. It's a really odd situation as I am struggling to believe in a God of love who loves me whilst simultaneously running to Him for comfort. I can't explain how that is possible. I feel like I'm holding on by the hang nail on my fingernail. I don't know how much longer I can hang on for. I'm finding church an almost impossible place to be, particularly worship. How can I sing praise to a God I am so mad at? Last week I just say outside the hall during the worship, I just couldn't be in there. I'm also not feeling very supported by people in church. Please note I said feeling. People have been amazing and it's been great but in my current state of poor mental health I am not always able to see subtle signs of support and I'm really not able to ask for it. Particularly prayer. I am not able to ask for prayer or even to pay for myself at the moment. I do not mean to offend the people who have gone out of their way to check on is and to see me. I'm just struggling to feel seen. I feel like an absolute burden and it's because people are fed up of me that they are pulling back. Yes I know how silly that sounds. I'm well aware people have their own lives and worries. This is just my way of processing what I'm feeling. I am very grateful to many people. I really, really feel like turning my back on God and church right now. I know that's not the right thing to do. Even in my crisis of faith I can feel God calling me in, wrapping his arms around me, helping me see Him in all of this pain and uncertainty.

The post I never wanted to write

At the beginning of the week this was going to be called 'the post I never expected to write'. You see, at the beginning of the week I was 12 weeks pregnant. This was going to be the week we announced to the world we were having our rainbow baby. On Monday night I had slight bleeding so we went to our 12 week scan on Tuesday morning excited but anxious. Sadly, once the scan was underway it was clear that all was not well. The sonographer confirmed baby had no heartbeat and only measured between 9&10 weeks. I had a surgically managed miscarriage on Wednesday.

Expectation

At the beginning of 2019 we decided to have one last year of trying to have a baby before moving on to living well as a family of 2. We tried nearly every month to no avail until the 3rd December. My period was a couple of days late and the best way to start my period was to take a pregnancy test. So I did and when it was positive both Neil and I were utterly amazed. In fact, when I showed Neil he asked if I'd taken it out of the box like that! It was faint so I did a digital test a few days later which confirmed I was pregnant. As I had suffered a chemical pregnancy (a positive test which was negative the next week) in the past, I took another digital test the next week and the numbers had gone up. This was happening! We told a few people as we needed support. It's hard to live in answered prayer of a prayer you have prayed for 7 years plus. Once we got used to the idea though we were really excited. I got morning sickness quite early on, I've never been so happy to be sick!

Expectation

I have a very physical job so I told work so they could look after me during manual handling etc. It was quite exciting telling people and filling in my pregnancy risk assessment. We visited my parents just before Christmas and Neil's parents stayed with us for Christmas. We decided to tell them as my sickness was quite hard to hide. We have them Christmas cards addressed to Nana and Grandpa and Granny and Grandad from their miracle grandchild. They were all elated and very happy for us. It was an exciting time.

Expectation

We had our booking in appointment on the 29th of December. Our last two pregnancies were through IVF and ended before we got referred over to community midwives so this was a new experience for us. It was quite overwhelming but a really significant experience. I have a balanced chromosome translocation which doesn't affect my health but means my baby has a 50% chance of having a fatal genetic condition. Due to this I was referred to consultant care and had an early scan at 8 weeks. The scan happened to be on New Year's Eve. It was amazing, we saw our tiny baby and heard their wooshing heartbeat. All the reassurance we needed that we were actually having a baby. We both cried with happiness when we heard the heartbeat!

Expectation

A few weeks before I found out I was pregnant a friend approached me at church to pass on a word she had heard from God for me. She said God had said that November would be a significant month for me. I went away and prayed about it and weighed it up in scripture. Turns out I conceived in November! When I told my friend I was pregnant she said that she had actually felt God telling her I would be pregnant in November. This news filled me with hope that this would be the baby that we got to bring home. 

Back in October we went to a prophetic event at church where we took part in a prayer tunnel. Basically everybody was prayed for by everyone else. A lady who I don't know and didn't know anything about my situation said over me 'God is opening doors for whatever it is you are waiting for'. At the time I wondered if this was about work or some other things in my life, I didn't dare to think it would be to do with having a baby. When I got pregnant I remembered this word and thanked God for opening this door. 

A third encouragement from God came from a friend after I had told him I was pregnant. He said when he prayed for me he saw a tall figure surrounding me with a hand protecting my belly. This gave me hope that God was protecting this baby.

Disappointment

Until the night before the 12 week scan when I first saw blood I'd had no reason to believe anything was wrong with our miraculous baby. The miscarriage has been a complete rug being pulled out from beneath our feet experience. With all the words from God and me experiencing lots of pregnancy symptoms I really believed this baby would be fine. I'm really struggling with this loss. I know it's really early days so I'm being kind to myself but this all seems so cruel and unfair. I'm actually wishing I'd never got pregnant in the first place. Just to go through loss again. 

We'll get through this, we've gotten through it before. But right now it's pants!

Goodbye Mini

Neil and I call each other Mr and Mrs Moo so we had been referring to our baby as Mini Moo. We have decided to say our baby was a girl and have named her Mini. Obviously we don't know what gender Mini Moo was but we didn't like referring to her as 'it' or 'they'. Goodbye Mini, rest well with all your brothers and sisters.

The weight of continual disappointment

We have recently been on a really lovely, desperately needed, refreshing holiday. It was great and we both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. However, in the middle of our lovely holiday I had a crushing disappointment which is beginning a sad, regular reality. My monthly cycle came in a very painful and difficult to manage way. We are currently trying naturally to get pregnant and I really thought we'd cracked it this month. I really, truly thought I was pregnant. My cycle started in a very strange way, teasing me with what I thought was implantation bleeding. A couple of days later I realised it definitely wasn't. I was crushed. Incredibly crushed. I tried to lift myself and enjoy our holiday but now we're back I'm feeling flat and disappointed yet again.

I'm really annoyed with myself because I thought I'd got to a place where I didn't put everything into trying each month so I didn't get so down when I wasn't. But this time was different. I'm not sure why but I had dreams and visions of coming home to take a pregnancy test and it being positive.

Facing disappointment month after month, year after year is utterly exhausting. I know I need to praise God in the face of my disappointment but man is it hard. So I'm going to end this post with 10 things to praise God for in the midst of this painful disappointment.

1. God I praise you for the lessons of endurance I have learnt during my years of infertility.

2. God I praise you for the 8 babies who now reside in heaven following our IVF experience.

3. God I praise you that I am ovulating and have the potential to get pregnant.

4. God I praise you for the babies I have carried in my womb.

5. God I praise you for the friends and community I have made during this long, long trial.

6. God I praise you for my amazing husband who is always by my side.

7. God I praise you for each and every time I have thought I was pregnant and I wasn't.

8. God I praise you for teaching me to wait on you.

9. God I praise you for giving me a job where I can out work my mother heart.

10. God I praise you because you alone are trustworthy, faithful and true to your promises.

Family of two

Last year was really tough with the failed adoption and dealing with that. This year we wanted a positive experience, something different.
Today is Blob Day, the day or embryos were created when we did IVF. Instead of being sad that none of our blobs got to become babies I thought I'd record some of the fun stuff we've done this year as a family of fun.

1. We met an alpaca and took him for a walk 😀
2. We had a lovely holiday staying in a little cottage in Stratford-upon-Avon.
3. We celebrated our pottery wedding anniversary at the potteries in Stoke.
4. We went to see a play in the West end and visited the science museum on the way home.
5. We went on a Latin American Street food cookery course.
6. We discovered a local art cafe in a little village nearby.
7. We went out for dinner in a posh pub in Henley.
8. We have had dates in the cinema.
9. We went to an art exhibition based around trees, something very special to us.
10. We've learnt some new games suited to two players.

We're only halfway through the year so I'm sure this list will grow. We already have a few things planned!

Pancake Day

Today, and everyday at the moment, is pancake Day for me. Yes I know I'm a few months late for shrove Tuesday! But my overwhelming feeling just now is numbness. I feel flat as a pancake!

I've been trying to work out why. After last year's trauma with the adoption falling apart and dealing with that we decided we'd have a year of really trying hard to get pregnant naturally. And I mean trying hard! Today is the first of June and I have taken 5 pregnancy tests this year so far. They have all been negative. And what's more the last two months my cycle has been over a week late and in that week of maybe I've had early pregnancy symptoms. This is a cruel journey. This really is our last attempt to have a family, we've tried everything else. I think the flatness comes from knowing we're pretty much half way through the year and no closer to having a baby. Each negative test chips another bit of my heart away.

In addition I'm in a very stressful season at work and don't know when it will ease. Everyday I feel frazzled and like I'm drowning in everything that's going on. I don't really know how to stay afloat. I am trying to prioritize self care but it's a really difficult season. This doesn't help.

All this stress had taken it's toll. We are in a season of having to work hard at our marriage. We're doing ok but with me constantly stressed everything is hard work. And my relationship with God is in a similar state. I try but I'm finding it hard to believe in a good God who wants only good things for me. I know that is the truth but when your daily reality is difficulty and stress it's hard to translate knowledge into belief.

So I am feeling flat as a pancake.

I'm sorry, my friend

Lately I've been really struggling with the tension of feeling like a burden and wanting to be a good friend and support my friends like they have supported me. I know I have huge room for improvement in this area. I hope this post will act as an apology and explain why I may come across as a self involved, rubbish friend sometimes.

All my life I've struggled with a fear of rejection and failure. I've also always struggled in social situations, particularly where I don't know what's expected of me or don't have a model of what is accepted behaviour in that situation. This means I often withdraw our stock to what I know and what is comfortable and familiar. I know this can appear rude.

Since struggling with infertility and baby loss/failed adoption this struggle has been magnified as I've often felt very sad or uncomfortable if surrounded by people who have what I so desire. It's also been harder as the years add up as I feel like people must think I'm just attention seeking and never happy. It's often hard to balance my happiness for others and my sadness for myself. I know people must think I'm rubbish and only think about myself. I hardly ever ask people how they are doing as I'm so scared they will reject me or just say I don't care. I really do care and I'm so sorry that my pain and fear have got in the way of some really good friendships. I know I've lost some really good friendships due to this over the years, and recently and this makes me very, very sad.

I want to say to these friends I have grown apart from, I am sorry. I also want to say I really do care although I know it looks like I don't. I do pray for you often and care about what is going on with you even though it must seem as though I am only wrapped up in my own stuff.

I know my social awkwardness and my ongoing pain and sadness has alienated people and meant people have pulled back from me. I pray I can be a much kinder and better friend and benefit from restored relationships maybe.

I'm also struggling with my relationship with God at the moment. I feel like a burden on everyone including God. Fertility wise I feel like all I'm coming up against is unanswered prayer. How is that a God who cares? However, I don't feel able to talk to anyone about this, partly due to my fear of rejection, but also due to feeling like a constant burden. I need to get to a place where I can pray for myself and believe he can answer.

I need to get to a place where I can pray to God to help me be a better friend. I need to get to a place where I don't feel so lonely.

I am sorry to the friends who have, understandably, withdrawn from me both recently and in the past. I will try to be a better friend. And I will make an effort to ask 'how are you doing?' and not talk about me.

Hope crushed... Again!

I'm going to let you in on a secret. I thought I was pregnant this month. It was the first month in many we had even been intimate at all and the first in probably a year and a half that we had been intimate at the right time to conceive. We only did it once and (to be graphic) my medical condition meant things were only where they needed to be for seconds but we had the tiniest of chances. We had more of a chance than we have had in years. So we prayed. We prayed for a miracle. We prayed like we've never prayed before.

Over the years I've lost hope to pray for a baby. With each miscarriage, loss, and heartbreak my hope that God would come through on this for us would chip off until there was virtually nothing there. When we started the adoption process hope stated to creep back in and I began to pray that God would give us a child this way. When it was abruptly brought to an end my hope, and faith, was completely shattered. I have slowly been building my faith and hope back up. Before Christmas my family received since miraculous healing news which really helped me to realise God does answer my prayers for others. It's meant I've been able to start praying for myself for little things and things unrelated to babies. As some of them have been answered I've been able to slowly start praying for my desire to be mummy. When I realised that we had a slim chance of conceiving this month I thought it was the perfect opportunity to exercise my faith and progress to God answering the biggest desire of my heart.

I'm not pregnant. My body is very painfully reminding me today that I'm not pregnant. I'm drowning in disappointment again. I'm not sure what this has done for my faith and hope. I'm trying to remember everything else God has done for me and others I've prayed for. I'm trying to thank God rather than be angry that he's not worked a miracle again. 

We've just been to a church prayer meeting where people were talking and praying about how we can bring people into the church community who are part of it but feel on the outside. I realised that, during this, seemingly never ending trial I often feel on the outside of the church community. You wouldn't know it though. I'm on various serving and ministry teams, go to prayer meetings and midweek groups. But, a lot of the time, I feel like I'm on the outside looking in. I feel like I'm isolated by my struggles. I'm not sure what to do about this feeling, or if I need to do anything at all. Maybe I'll always feel like I'm on the outside looking in. Maybe that's ok. I don't know.

I'm hoping that I can continue to pray for myself and, maybe even pray for a baby next month. Maybe I should be praying that God will give me peace whatever happens with baby stuff. I'm not ready to give up on being mummy one day, maybe.

Goodbye 2018

You began with such hope that we would become parents.
You progressed with solidarity and education as we meet other prospective adoptive parents and learnt about our potential.
You encouraged me at work with opportunities to develop my teaching skills.
You gave us nice times together and with family and friends.
Then March and April happened.
We were forced to move out of the flat we thought would be the home to bring home our child.
We were dealt a blow from the adoption agency that would plunge us into depths of heartbreak we didn't know existed.
We would not become parents this year.
We don't know if we will ever become parents.
We struggled in our marriage and in our relationships with friends and family.
Work started to be a struggle- teaching opportunities were taken away as quickly as they came, people were mean.
We struggled to come to terms with all that happened.
There were good things.
We found a great flat to move to and were blessed with friends to help.
I had a job created for me where I can exercise my mother heart everyday.
We discovered the blessing of a retreat holiday that refreshed our relationships with God.
I embraced my fundraising challenge and raised£2000 for 12 different charities.
We found ways to revitalise our relationship.
But then you got hard again.
Family health issues heightened.
My new job was threatened with change which plunged me into depths of work stress I've never faced.
I had to deal with difficult people without much support.
Memories of the failed adoption plagued my mind and took over.
Our relationship suffered hugely again.
I was plunged into darkness.
It has ended with little glimmers of light in the darkness, some bright flashes of hope.
My biggest stress at work is over and my job is safe again.
My family received some miraculous health news.
Our relationship has benefited hugely from some rest and time away.
We have had lovely times with family.
People have reacted with love and support since I opened up about my struggles and darkness.
We know it's not god's will for us to adopt and I'm ok with that (sometimes!).
I have hope to pray for my miracle again.
I have realised that this year has been a year where I have deepened friendships and relied on people and, most importantly for me, helped people.
You were not the year I thought you would be. You were hard, impossibly so at times. But I am coming out of you stronger than I was at the start.
Goodbye 2018.

A whole mess of stuff!

I'm writing this post in the midst of Christmas celebrations and stress. This morning I attended and took part in our churches Nativity service. It was full of children dressed up and enjoying Christmas, as it should be. For me however it was incredibly hard. We normally avoid the Nativity service but this year there was a signed sing and the special needs groups I help in were part of it so I had to be there. This time last year we had just submitted our adoption paperwork and had our date come through for our preparation course. We were thinking that we would be bringing our own little shepherd or donkey to the Nativity service this year. However, in April our adoption process came to an abrupt end. In recent weeks we have come to the decision that adoption is not god's plan for us. The reasons behind that decision are for another post but it's a hard one to come to terms with especially at Christmas.
Several of the couple's who were on the adoption preparation course with us now have their little ones home with them and we don't. It hurts. I'm struggling largely because I feel like we're old news. Oh look that childless couple are finding Christmas hard... Again! I feel like I want to run away and hide.
I'm under an awful lot of pressure at work at the moment which doesn't help things but I feel like I live in a permanent state of stress and sadness. My relationship with my husband is tense and my relationship with God is just holding on by a thread. I'm praying for a miracle (a baby) but I have absolutely no belief that God answers my prayers for myself. I can't really pray for others either. I know God is there and loves me and wants to comfort me but I don't understand why he never comes through. Have I done something wrong? Am I not praying right? I try and try and get stress at work and nowhere with my fertility. I'm trying to have a relationship with God but I don't really know how to when I feel like this. If I'm honest I feel very alone in all this and don't know where to turn. There are counseling services, support groups and online forums for people going through miscarriage but I've found nothing for people going through failed adoption. Every time I've mentioned it in online support groups people have just told me not to give up and try another agency. But that's not where we're at, I just want support. This is hard, especially at Christmas when children and happiness are all around me.

Advent- Hannah 1

her husband Elkanah said to her, “Hannah, why are you crying? Why won’t you eat? Why are you so sad? You have me. Isn’t that better than having even ten sons?”
1 Samuel 1:8 ERV

This verse demonstrates the dilemma every infertile person faces- how to be happy with the blessings you have in life when you don't have the one thing you overwhelming desire- a child. I'm not sure I have any wise words on this topic as it's something I'm particularly struggling with at the moment. We're in a place now where we've decided to pray for a miracle whilst also finding ways to live as a family of two. Essentially we've stopped trying. I'm under an awful lot of stress at work just now which has exasperated my anxiety which in turn has made me more susceptible to feelings of bitterness and jealousy when I see pregnant people and young families. I feel the longing to have a child of my own ever so strongly just now and am struggling to be thankful for all the wonderful blessings in my life. It's hard to see the good things when all I see is what I long for but haven't got. This is also a tough area for me right now because I'm having a major wobble in my faith so struggle to see things as blessings from God. I'm finding it hard to pray to a God who I no longer think answers my prayers. I guess this is a work in progress for me.

Advent- Rebekah

I've not posted on here much this year, it's been quite a year. We thought we'd end this year as parents but instead we're ending it coming to terms with the fact that we are likely to never be parents. To help focus my mind and sort out my headspace I've decided to write a blog post each day in advent. The posts will be based around a different infertility themed Bible verse or character.

Day 1-Rebekah
Genesis 25:21
Isaac prayed to the Lord on behalf of his wife, because she was childless. The Lord answered his prayer, and his wife Rebekah became pregnant.

If I'm honest I struggle with this verse. Lots of people, including my husband have prayed for me because I am childless and I've not become pregnant, or I've lost the babies I have carried. I used to find hope in this verse and others like it but 7 years in I now find it tough. Did we not pray right or well enough? So we not have enough faith? I guess what this verse does for me now is remind me that God's timing is not ours, His ways are not our ways. It may be His will for us to wait years and then have a baby, it may be His will for us to never have children of our own but to act in a parental role to other people's children. We don't know. But I do know that, despite it feeling like God has let us down, he hasn't and he never does. In all this suffering He is still good, still God and still on His throne in control.

Everything's changing but...

I'm struggling today. In fact I've been struggling for quite a few days now. From the outside you'd think I should be happy and excited as the are lots of new things happening in my life. We moved into a lovely new flat a month or so ago, I started an evening course on Tuesday to train as a pastry chef and next week I start a new job. Everything is changing but we still don't have children. I don't know if we will ever have children. I thought I was ok with being a family of two but I just seem to be fighting back the tears all the time these days.
This morning Neil and I were helping out with the group for special needs kids at church. Seeing Neil running around and interacting with the kids was heartbreaking. We should have been getting ready to adopt our own child who would quite likely have had special needs. For some reason I've had that awful meeting playing over in my head all week. Everything's just painful again.
I'm excited for all the new stuff in my life it's just overwhelming.
I was standing in church this morning watching all the families with their children, babies and baby bumps and just felt like everyone was moving forward and I was standing still. All I wanted was a hug. I'm really struggling to be grateful for what I have got and not just be devastated that we haven't got a child.
Neil is going away for two nights tonight for work and I'm really sad that that will leave just me in the flat. I'm sure I'll enjoy time to myself but it's not where I thought I'd be at 35.
We're trying naturally at the moment and not getting anywhere, life is just hard sometimes!

A Mother's Heart

We have recently returned from camping with others from our church and churches from across the UK and beyond at the Catalyst festival. It was a valuable few days for both Neil and I but I wouldn't say I enjoyed it. We faced many challenges, not least having to bail water out of our tent in our pyjamas for an hour before we could start our day on the first full day there. We were tested as a couple and as individuals but we came through stronger than we started. For me personally I think God was speaking to me about three things.

My dreams will wait: I need to grieve first.

Since finding out, about a month ago, that we would not be able to adopt and consequently I am likely to never be 'Mummy' I have resurrected another dream I have held nearly as long as the dream to have a child. My dream is to open a cake or chocolate shop or cafe and use it to employ people with a learning disability and teach them to make all sorts of items well and let them use their creativity and learn business skills. Almost immediately after I found out I wouldn't be a Mum I started researching how I can make this dream come to fruition. I am hoping to enrol in a year long college evening course in patisserie and confectionery and am looking into options and locations to start up my business once I have done my course. We both feel like we need a fresh start so we are looking at a complete relocation. At the Catalyst festival I went to a seminar about turning your creative talent into a business. It was delivered by a lady who had started a creative business following a lengthy and traumatic health trial. I got lots of helpful practical tips from the seminar but it also made me realise that I need to straighten out my priorities right now. The lady in the seminar had used her creative gifting and skills to help distract her from her health troubles but she still dealt with them. I realised I was not doing that. I was approaching the whole thing with an attitude of replacement - I can't have a baby so this business will be my baby, I'll start up a cafe instead. God has highlighted to me that this attitude is not healthy. I can still dream, I can still do things like my course to help my dreams come true but I need to grieve as well. Having a business, becoming a professional baker or confectioner will not replace the children I will never have. I need to grieve, heal and recover at the same time as moving towards my new goals. I also think it is healthy to pause the progress of my creative dreams to allow me time to back track and grieve. I can still do the course but I need to make sure I am dealing with what has happened to me as well. This means it may be more than a year before we move away. I have paused my mindset and reset to allow me to grieve and process. That has meant lots of tears and questions already!

I have a God given mother's heart.

As the name of this blog reflects I believe I am made to nurture. Until recently I thought I was made to nurture my own biological or adopted children. I thought I was made to nurture children in my own home and family. Now it looks like I will not meet my own children in this life I am starting to realise that God can and is honouring my mother's heart in other ways. I nurture and mother the students I encounter every day at work and I have a heart to reach out to people with learning disabilities and love to meet their needs. At the Catalyst festival I felt God encouraging me through other people's children. I found myself more than once with little ones seeking me out and coming to me for cuddles and entertainment. I realised that me spending time valuing and loving their children blessed my friends who were the children's parents. I can outwork my mother's heart by loving other people's children. I'm currently praying this through and trying to work out how I can best love my friends by loving their children whilst also looking after my own heart. I have had a recurring picture during worship times of me surrounded by pre-school aged children but knowing that none of them are mine. This is both encouraging and painful. I found when I was running around with, colouring with, having cuddles with and spending time with these little ones who sought me out my heart was both heavy and healing. It encouraged me that there are children (and their parents) who benefit from and are blessed by my love and care even if the adoption agency wont let us continue. However I had to give these children back and say goodbye, I had to go back to a child free tent, come home to a child free flat. This really pulls at my emotions. In reference to my previous post I am also going back in my emotions to process and grieve the potential children we could have had. This meant there was one very messy afternoon at the Catalyst festival where I dissolved in tears while cooking dinner. It was the start of a process that needed to happen but it wasn't comfortable. The evening meeting after that tearful dinner was spent, for a bit, with a lovely little girl in my arms which was lovely and difficult at the same time. Processing emotions around not being able to have my own children while loving on other people's children is both messy and beautiful. I also found it really hard when the children I was spending time with were tired or hurt - they only wanted their parents. It really hurts that I will never be that comforting, fulfilling presence that a child longs for from a parent when they need it most.

I am a child of the living God.

Through everything that has been going on recently I have really been struggling with my identity, I didn't know who I was. I also couldn't sing worship songs that talked about God being good or that he would never let us down. I felt completely defined by the fact that I can't have children and we can't adopt. I could not reconcile our unmet desire to be parents and our failed natural attempts, fertility treatments, IVF and adoption attempt with a good God who doesn't let us down. When I had my messy meltdown while cooking dinner a good, trusted friend who is also an elder in our church was at our tent talking to Neil. He had to pick up the pieces (and stir our dinner to prevent it from burning!) He told me, among other things, that I was a child of the living God and asked me to repeat it. I couldn't repeat it. It was like something was physically stopping those words from coming out of my mouth and stopping the truth of those words from penetrating my heart. All I could think and say was how much of a horrible person I was, I couldn't see the truth and felt like a failure. Then our friend said something that made my thinking start to change. He said that Jesus promised in the Bible that he would never leave us and that he gave good gifts to his children. I heard this but didn't really believe it. He then said that Jesus also promised in the Bible that he would rise from the dead and that as we know that is true we can trust that all the other promises in the Bible are true. That was when my thinking changed. I know Jesus kept his promise to rise from the dead so I know he will keep the other promises too. I may never understand why all this has happened this side of heaven but I know Jesus will never leave me and that he is good and will not let me down. I can't really remember much more of the conversation but by the end of it I was tentitavly able to say 'I am a child of the living God'. This truth was repeated in the evening worship and I was able to receive it, I even wrote it in my journal in big bubble writing! This morning, at church we sang a song that talked about God being good and that he will never let us down. I was able to sing it this morning.

I spent some time serving on the team working with adults with learning disabilities at the festival. There was a moment where I made a connection with a young lady who was questioning her future and whether God really loved and valued her. I made eye contact with her while singing and signing 'the Father Himself loves you' and I knew she knew that God valued her and loved her for who she is. In that moment I knew that to be true for me too. God uses broken people to serve broken people.

I am slowly healing from the trauma of trying and not suceeding to have children but have slowed down my moving on to ensure I grieve and recover fully. I have readjusted my thinking to view myself as a mother. I have realigned my emotions and feelings to allow myself to love other people's children. I am starting to plan how I can practically love our friends' children whilst also healing my own heart. That's what I got from this year's Catalyst festival.

A crushing blow

This has got to be the hardest post I have had to write. The last post I wrote on this blog was about how, as prospective adopters we were expectant parents. Now, I have to write to tell you all that we are no longer expectant parents. Our adoption agency have told us we cannot go forward with the adoption. It's looking like we will not be adoptive parents and it's highly likely we will not be parents at all. We have both been completely knocked sideways by this and are very upset and quite angry. In this post, I will attempt to explain what has happened in the run up to, during and in the aftermath of this decision. Please bear with me as I try to process this through writing my blog.

The run up - shaken but all is not lost

A month or so ago the half marathon I had been training for for months was cancelled at the last minute due to snow. This was a Sunday. As the roads were supposed to be closed in the morning for the run our church service was happening in the afternoon, like every year. We went to church in the afternoon having had a completely different day to what we had been expecting and had prepared for. Last year Neil got formally diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome. I have some professional experience in this area and had been helping him out for years with issues he had with coping with different types of change and some social situations. When we started thinking about adoption we thought we'd get an official diagnosis so we could be completely transparent and Neil would not just come across as an angry man. As part of his Asperger's Neil has hypersensitive hearing and is particularly bothered by loud, bassy music - it causes him physical pain. On this particular Sunday Neil found the worship at church particularly uncomfortable and he had to leave the room. Unfortunately, he looked back at me as he left and thought (wrongly) I was upset with him. He came back and took my hand and we left the room quickly and quite roughly to outside eyes. The change of plan in the morning, the hypersensitivity to noise and misunderstanding my emotions all led to Neil getting very upset and needing help from a friend to calm down. The situation was dealt with and we sorted out our differences. The friend who helped him calm down was one of our references for the adoption.

2 weeks ago our social worker met with that friend and his wife to gather a verbal reference. The Sunday after that meeting the friends fed back to us about the meeting. They said the incident had come up in discussion and they had sensitively explained what had happened and what we had been doing since to improve things and make sure that didn't happen again. They said that they had gotten the impression from our social worker that, although we needed to discuss it, it wouldn't necessarily stop us moving forward. 

We were a bit worried but still quite hopeful. We were not cross at all with our friends for telling our social worker about what had happened. We were going to tell him anyway.

The blow is dealt

Last Thursday we were called to a meeting with our social worker and his team manager. During the meeting we each had to separately explain the incident and our perspective on it and then explain what we were doing about it, strategies we were using and how we were ensuring it didn't happen again. They listened and praised us for the strategies we had put in place and were planning on putting in place. They then explained that having a child, particularly an adopted child leaves you subject to several sudden changes every day. They then said that people with Asperger's could not easily adapt to change or had issues doing so. After listing all our positives (which I think all related to me) they just said that we couldn't be adoptive parents with them at this time due to the issues with Asperger's and change. As they had said 'at this time' I asked when we could adopt. They could not give us a timescale and simply kept saying we weren't ready. I told them it wasn't a fair decision and they started raising things that have previously been quoted as positives about us both as reasons why we're not right to be adoptive parents. They didn't even say sorry.

In addition to all this we found out a month or so ago that our landlord is selling our flat and there was a viewing that day about an hour after we left the meeting. We couldn't cancel it so we went from this awful meeting to Costa and hid at the back drowning our sorrows in chocolate!

The immediate aftermath

We were, and are completely devastated and feel like we are being discriminated against. It really feels like another miscarriage. For years we have been fighting and praying for God to fulfil the deepest desires of our hearts (possibly deeper desire for me than Neil). Now this! I am really struggling to reconcile a kind, loving God who only wants good things for me with this current circumstance. On the other hand I'm also leaning into God and relying on his love, peace and comfort to get me through this ordeal. It's a very strange experience having these two feelings side by side.

What now?

We may have a case to raise for discrimination but not yet. If we do make a complaint it will not be to change the decision, that has been made and we cannot change it. It will be to make sure this kind of discrimination does not happen to other people. I do not want others to go through the pain and trauma we are currently going through. We need to deal with our hearts first and foremost and try to heal and come back from this. We will take our time. We are planning on speaking to a social worker from Home for Good (a Christian adoption support charity) to get a second opinion and a bit of support from someone in the know.

Right now we are in survival mode and trying to come to terms with the fact that we are unlikely to become parents. We have both taken a few days off work and are hunkering down and spending as much time hurting together as possible. We have a wonderful support network and are being looked after. People are offering meals, space and support as we deal with this blow.

We are slowly starting to think about the future. We can try naturally but it is far from easy for us for physical and psychological reasons. This is something we need to pray and think about. At this stage I feel like, if we try naturally and conceive then what on earth was the point of this trauma and all the years of trying and IVF trauma?! Maybe we will find a way to be parents but we really need to prepare our hearts and minds for the fact that our outcome of this struggle may well be to live as a childless couple.

I have been re-reading a book called Resurrection Year about a couple who were in a similar situation and made a drastic change and pursued a different dream together. We have been discussing what out own resurrection year would look like. We have both said that if the result of this is that we live a childless life we want to give ourselves a brand new challenge, move away, have an adventure together. I have a few business dreams that we are now looking into more seriously. Maybe it's time to pursue a different dream.

Expectant

For the first time in a year and a half I can now say that Neil and I are expectant parents. We are preparing our hearts and our home to welcome in our child. For us, though we will likely have more than nine months for this preparation. This is because I'm not pregnant; we have stepped into the world of preparing to adopt. We are in the middle of stage 1 and are currently learning all about why children need to find adoptive families, how their experiences affect things like attachment and how we as adoptive parents can help them find their place in the world. We have had conversations with each other and with social workers about the type of child we feel we could welcome into our family and have started planning changes to our home to make it more child friendly.

Transition

I am still infertile, I will always be infertile (barring a miracle). I will always be mother to eight little ones in heaven. They will always be part of my story. But now I am in a process that is highly likely to end with a child in our home. I'm not under any illusions about the adoption process, I'm well aware that things could go wrong and we might not get approved to bring home a child. However, our agency have said that they do everything they can to get you approved and help you deal with issues that would stop this as and when they arise. After all being pregnant is no guarantee that you are going to have a baby in your home. All that being said I am currently in transition from childless mother to expectant mother. It's a strange feeling because I still feel sad when others announce pregnancies or I see others interacting with their children but it's through a different lens. Unlike a pregnant expectant mum I don't have a clear time limit on my waiting (although I have rough guidelines for the different stages) but I still feel hope that one day in the not too distant future I will be interacting with my own child and celebrating the day they get to share our surname. Another difference when you are expectant through adoption rather than pregnancy is that there are no outward signs. When you see a lady with a baby bump you know she will soon be mummy, when you see me you have no idea that I am an expectant mummy. That is one of the things that makes the transition quite tricky to navigate as people don't know why I'm having to make changes in my life. We have to get voluntary experience with children so have had to cancel some commitments to prioritise these activities and have also had to have lots of evenings just reading and studying which makes us quite tired. 

Grieving

One thing I have learnt a lot about throughout this whole journey to parenthood is grieving. The grief of infertility is unique in it's duration and repetitive nature. It is relentless. But it is still possible to move through the stages of grief during infertility and come to a place of acceptance. I am there now. I have accepted that, for such a time as this, I will not have a biological child. I will have a child to love, nurture and raise but they will not share my genetic information. With God's help I have made peace with this fact. Recently, however, I have realised there are lots of little things that I also need to grieve. One of my colleagues is pregnant and the other day fellow colleagues were getting all excited trying to guess whether she's having a boy or a girl. I was left feeling very sad and it struck me that I'm not going to have that moment where people gaze at my bump and guess if it's a girl or a boy. It's a bit of a silly example but it's another thing I need to grieve. At this stage we don't know how old or able our child will be. We may never have to cope with nappy changes, night feeds, toilet training, weaning to solid foods and many other things. These are things that I'm sure many parents would not wish to repeat but they are valuable, necessary parts of parenting and if our child has passed through these stages when they come home with us they will be other things we will have to grieve. This ongoing, complex grief is one reason, I believe, that the adoption process involves such lengthy, in depth paperwork and interviews; so you can be sure you have worked through it all. I am certainly getting there.

Faithful God

Five years ago I received a promise from God that I would have a child to raise and nurture in my home with my husband. A turbulent journey with fertility treatment, IVF, miscarriage and failed medical tests has seriously rocked my faith in God's ability to make good on this promise. I'm beginning to realise that the child I am made to nurture does not have to grow inside me for me to nurture them. I count myself privileged to be in a position where I can provide nurturing love, care and attention to a child who has had a difficult start in life. My prayer life has been adversely affected by all that has happened and I still really struggle to pray for myself in any respect. I have been unable to pray for a baby for myself for 2 years, since my first miscarriage. I am now able to pray for this adoption to be successful but I am very careful with my wording, praying more for the child and Neil than myself. I am fortunate to have a support network of people who pray for me and who pray for my journey to be mummy as I am unable to do it myself. It is strange because I still believe that God keeps his promises and answers prayer but I have been waiting so long and had so many disappointments I cannot bring myself to utter those prayers anymore. My prayer life is wobbly at best but I am trying to get better. We have already had some setbacks and difficulties in this adoption process but I am trying to remember to trust God with these things and bring them to Him in prayer.

Baby loss, mental health and me.

This past week has been baby loss awareness week and Tuesday was World Mental Health day. It was also the week when I had confirmation that I have mild generalised anxiety disorder (GAD) and began cognitive behaviour therapy to treat it. In addition, yesterday marks 2 years since my first embryo was implanted into my womb. In light of that it seems an appropriate time to write a post about how baby loss and mental health affects me in my day to day living.

It is a known fact to readers of this blog that I have had 2 miscarriages and am no stranger to baby loss. I actually consider myself to have lost 8 babies. When our embryos were created we had 8 little blobs in the freezer that each contained some of my genetic information and some of Neil's. We had 8 potential babies. We have now lost all 8 of those potential babies through various events. The first 2 were lost because they failed the genetic tests all our embryos were subjected to. They were abnormal due to my balanced chromosome translocation and did not have the right genetic material to be viable. We instructed the clinic to let them perish. The next potential baby was the embryo that was implanted into my womb 2 years ago yesterday. Despite promising signs during the 2 week wait the pregnancy test taken at the end of that wait was negative; baby had failed to implant. The next loss was the most challenging both physically and mentally. Two weeks after implantation the obligatory pregnancy test was positive. I was pregnant for the first time ever in my life. The story is recorded in previous posts in this blog so I won't repeat it here but the pregnancy ended in a missed miscarriage picked up at 8 weeks. The baby had died at 6 weeks and I had a surgically managed miscarriage when I was technically 10 weeks pregnant. Baby number 5 also gave me a positive pregnancy test. This one was also not meant to be and the tests became negative within a week. It was a miscarriage before 5 weeks and is classed as a chemical pregnancy. The last three babies we lost were all lost because I had a real sense from God that enough was enough and we made the difficult decision to donate our 3 remaining embryos to medical research (thus benefiting future parents and justifying their existence) and close the door on our IVF journey.

Those are the cold hard facts of my experience with baby loss but it is not that simple. It's now well over a year since my last miscarriage and 5 months since we donated our remaining 3 embryos to medical research. I have grieved a lot. However, I continue to grieve, I think I will continue to grieve as long as I live. Grief comes in waves. But it is easier to let other things come into my life. I will never forget my 8 babies even though I never met them. The grief of baby loss and infertility is an ever present feature in my life and the intensity comes and goes. I often find myself surrounded by babies and bumps, particularly at church and sometimes the jealousy and unfairness of it all overwhelms me. I am so excited and ready for the next step of adoption but I would be made of wood if I didn't feel the sting of loss. I am slowly getting to a place where I can feel happy for other families and my grief and pain is not so visible. With God's help I am now hopeful for a future where I will be Mummy and Neil will be Daddy. Baby loss has entered my life and changed it. A lot of the change has been painful and feels negative but there have been positive changes too. I feel like I have grown in my abilities to encourage and comfort other people generally but especially people who have had experience of baby loss and/or infertility. I also feel like I am more kind, empathetic and understanding for having gone through my experiences of baby loss.

One of the seemingly negative changes that has happened due to my baby loss experiences is that my anxiety has gotten to a stage that it is now classifiable as a medical condition; generalised anxiety disorder (GAD). Growing up I was always a very anxious person and had quite a few phobias. I was terrified of dogs and being sick. The phobia of being sick took over my life as a student and developed into a fear of food. I would control what I ate and how much I ate so that I didn't ever feel full which was akin to feeling sick to me. I would avoid situations such as eating in front of others or in a restaurant.Through a combination of prayer and me working hard to change my thinking I was able to break free from both phobias and all the anxiety and panic attacks that plagued me. As I have posted here before my struggles with infertility, failed IVF and baby loss have triggered my phobia of being sick and fear of food and left me with clinical depression. On three separate occasions my depression got so bad that I deliberately cut my wrists just to get some release and as a cry for help. I have been in some dark places. I have received counselling and prayer and am now in a much better place. As well as GAD I do currently have a diagnosis of mild depression but I feel like I am in control of that. I have realised that my anxiety is taking over my life and making it quite hard to function so have started cognitive behaviour therapy for it. It is an illness that needs treating, not just the way I am.

For me GAD means I have a ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach constantly. A lot of the time I can push it down to the bottom and function normally and people don't know that there's anything wrong. But sometimes it rises to the surface and I feel like I can't cope. I currently have panic attacks about once a fortnight and I often burst into tears without really feeling upset inside. I do have a list of recognised triggers for my panic attacks and crying episodes: being in a group of people or large crowd, being around pregnant people or young babies eating in front of people (not Neil) or out in a restaurant, feeling full, feeling sick and when my friends are talking to someone else (that is hard to admit as it makes me feel like a bad, jealous person but anxiety is irrational and distorts your thinking). Sometimes though the panic attacks and crying episodes come completely out of the blue with no obvious trigger. Also, the situations on my list of triggers do not trigger my anxiety every time I am in them although if I am feeling particularly bad I will try to avoid those things. I also often find myself going through the day with a real sense of dread and feeling like something awful is about to happen. It's not all doom and gloom and I am managing to function on a day to day basis and often feel happy and like I am enjoying life. I am so thankful that I am able to go to work and that actually work provides enough of a distraction that I often don't notice the ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. I have had one day recently where I burst into tears randomly at work and had to explain that no one had actually upset me it was just a symptom of my GAD. I have recently been asked to step up and teach one day a week at work and this is a challenge I am relishing and enjoying. It really helps take my mind off the anxiety but I am worried that the manager will see me crying if it happens again, think I'm not coping and take my teaching day away. That is the opposite of helpful. I'm probably worrying over nothing; that's GAD for you!

My life has been shaped by baby loss and that includes my mental health. I am now getting help for my mental health conditions and with God's help I will come out the other side a stronger, more rounded person. I hope that I can continue to help others and develop my giftings in encouragement, kindness and comfort, even from the middle of my mess.

Being Vulnerable and being kind

This is a story of my summer. It has been a time of very mixed emotions, some good, some bad; of challenges, times of rest and disappointments. I work in education so I have had the best part of 2 months on 'Summer Holiday' so this post is the story of those 2 months.

Beginning in Hope

At the end of June/beginning of July Neil and I decided to try, really try to get pregnant naturally. We had made the decision a few months earlier to stop all fertility treatments and move on to adoption as our way of trying to build our family. You can read more about that in previous blog posts. We were content and at peace with the decision we had made but we both felt called to try one last time to have our own biological child. This is far from easy for us. I suffer from extreme pain and muscle spasms/tightness during intercourse so we have found other ways to enjoy each other. It's also emotionally hard for us as it reminds us of what we have lost. But we both felt we should try. We did everything we could to help make it possible. We followed something called the sperm meets egg plan which sets out precisely when you should 'get together' for optimal conception. I took painkillers and had hot baths to relax me. We did everything right. We kept it secret, only telling one other person that we were trying. We were convinced it had worked, I even felt symptoms of early pregnancy. Our summer began in hope.

Kindness during suffering

I wasn't pregnant. I found out at the beginning of August. It was test day according to the plan. I had been at work at the care home where I used to work full time since early in the morning so I waited till later in the day to take the test. It was the day before my period was due and I felt different to how I normally do so I secretly hoped. But I think I knew really. The test was negative and about an hour later my period started. I was crushed as that all too familiar feeling of disappointment and hope floating away yet again washed over me. I also felt really sad for Neil. We really are happy that we are going to adopt but there are still things I need to work through. One of those things is the fact that I'm never going to see Neil interacting with our own newborn baby.
This disappointment and sadness came around the same time that I had watched a documentary on TV about a lady who writes encouraging letters to people going through tough, challenging times in their lives. This inspired me so much I decided to do something similar. So I put a post on some of the social media groups for people going through infertility and baby loss that I'm part of and got quite a response. Most of the people I have written to are not Christians but I prayed for them as I wrote and wrote whatever I felt they needed to hear. I have had some feedback that I wrote exactly the words that were needed at that moment. I love how God works through us even at our weakest points. I wrote a letter on the day that I had my negative test and had to really work hard to be encouraging to someone else as I was hurting. I did it though and felt God minister to me as I ministered to others through these letters.

Beginning to heal

A few days after that negative test Neil and I headed off to Cornwall for CreationFest. It's a free (just pay for camping) Christian festival. We had a week of enjoying time together as a couple and some great times with God. It was really nice to be in a place where no one knew us or what was going on with us. We could feel what we needed to feel when we needed to feel it. We did share our story with some on the prayer team and got some prayer but it was just nice to have time to talk together and with God. We sang a song through the week with the line 'my impossible, He makes possible'. I came away with a new hope that God would make my impossible possible. I will be Mummy. I don't know when or how but I know it will happen. I left that week a different person, I was still sad and struggling with disappointment but hope and peace had crept back in. I was beginning to heal.

Fellowship and vulnerability

Last weekend, as the summer holiday was coming to an end I went to a retreat day for women going through infertility, miscarriage and childlessness. It was organised by the wonderful ladies at Saltwater and Honey and was a refreshing yet difficult day. It was a day of hearing and sharing stories, of being vulnerable with each other and being brave enough to share in each other's grief. There was something very healing and refreshing about sharing your story with women with similar stories. I was able to speak to a lady who has a similar story to mine and get some perspective from a bit further along in our story. We sat in the chapel tasting the bitterness of saltwater as we grieved together and the sweetness of honey as we recognised the joys that can come during this time and I felt like I had found my people. I realised during the day that I am not as good at being vulnerable with my infertility story as I thought I was. I can write about it in graphic detail in this blog and in social media posts and emails with ease. In fact I couldn't get through this journey without this blog. But when I really think about it I very rarely sit down with anyone other than Neil and really talk about my suffering and grief. At this retreat day we were given opportunity to do this and it was very healing. We learnt about how we all carry shame and that shame can form a block in our relationship with God. Talking about our struggles and sharing our shame breaks down that block and the relationship can be rebuilt. I am not very good at that. I need to think about who I have in my life who I can have this kind of vulnerability with. I have a few people in mind but I am scared of saying too much and being rejected or not being able to be there for them. I guess I just need to start and this retreat was a start.

So that was my summer, well some of it. I spent the first part thinking I may finally be pregnant naturally and the rest of it coming to terms with the fact that I wasn't, again. Oh and I have started doing kind things, like writing letters and sending gifts and cards to others going through similar struggles. I like to think I am doing this:

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Learning to forgive myself

I am having a tough week. The kind of week where every day throws another reason to beat yourself up at you. And it's only Tuesday. I keep making mistakes, mishearing things, misunderstanding people and letting people down. I'm having a really hard time liking myself and can't imagine why anyone would want to spend any time with me let alone like or even love me. I can't even understand why hubby, or even God would love me. I know this all sounds a bit miserable and dramatic  I'm just being real.
I can't understand why God, or anyone, would love me but I KNOW God loves me. I need to pull myself out of this low point before I get in too deep. I need to learn to forgive myself, to give myself a break. I don't really know how to do this but I have started this afternoon by listening to worship music. I also listed the things I have done wrong and asked for God's forgiveness for them. I believe God had forgiven me for those things but I am a long way off being able to forgive myself. I want to see myself as God sees me. I feel like I don't really know who I am at the moment. I don't know where my identity lies anymore. I know I am a daughter of God but I don't feel worthy just now.

Drawing a line in the sand

When you embark upon a journey you encounter landmarks along the way and collect memories. Moments you will never forget, days you will always remember and mark, memorable dates. Our infertility journey has had several such landmark days. I have created a map of our fertility journey with all the landmark days marked around the path. Most of our landmarks are related to some form of medical treatment but I have also included the days we attended our church festival, Catalyst and Rhythm of Hope, the Christian infertility retreat we attend. God has spoken to both of us at these events (and other times too) about various things to do with our fertility journey and our path to parenthood and these events have shaped our journey along this bumpy path. The day I ran 10k and raised £600 for Fertility Network UK also features on the map as it was part of my recovery from the miscarriage.

The eagle eyed amongst you will notice the last two points on the map are a decision to stop IVF and fertility treatment and move on to adoption. This is a new landmark on our journey and something I've not written about on here before. In January we went to Rhythm of Hope and were refreshed and refuelled on our journey. For me, this retreat day feels like coming up for air in the stormy sea that is infertility. God ministered hugely to both of us during this day but I had a sense of a particular message. At this point we had just had our recurrent loss tests and had 1 healthy frozen embryo left. My consultant had just started me on some medication to manage my polycystic ovarian syndrome and the plan amongst the medical professionals involved with me was to continue with this medication for a few months before going for embryo transfer number 4. The doctors were hopeful for my next transfer; Neil and I were not. During the worship at the retreat day I had a strong feeling God was telling us to draw a line in the sand. I felt called to stop all fertility treatment, donate our final healthy embryo to another couple who cannot make embryos of their own and move on to pursue adoption in order to complete our family. I shared this with Neil and with others when we got home and there followed several months of prayer and pursuing treatment for the final embryo transfer.

We were advised to continue trying towards transfer #4 as a way of testing and weighing this word from God. It was a way of seeing whether I was just thinking about stopping treatment because I was tired and fed up of being put through the wringer. I tried to go ahead with the transfer at the end of February and was told that I could not go ahead yet as the clinic needed my latest test results (which had been done by a different hospital) and it was up to me to get the results. It took me 6 weeks to get hold of the results. When the clinic did get the results there was a problem with my thyroid level which had been missed by my consultant. I then had to arrange a retest of my thyroid levels. They came back 0.25 too high. The fertility clinic wouldn't transfer an embryo at that level and that my GP would have to treat it first. My GP said my level wasn't high enough to treat. There was also more admin issues and general frustration thrown in. It all felt like pushing water uphill. It shouldn't be this hard. A chat with some dear friends confirmed what we were thinking; what I had heard/felt was from God, the time has come to draw a line in the sand and move on.

This has been a very difficult and emotional decision to make but we both have complete peace about moving on. We attended a Saying Goodbye service (memorial for babies lost at any stage) a few days after we made our decision. It was very emotional but helped us say goodbye to our lost babies as well as the idea of having a baby via IVF. We may be able to get pregnant naturally but right now that holds too much anxiety and stress for me to contemplate. We are excited about moving on to adoption.

I will be phoning the clinic this week to start the process of stopping and donating our embryo to another couple. They are unlikely to let us do this easily as their policy is only to do this when you have embryos left after successful treatment. We are so certain this is what God wants us to do we have to ask. Please, if you pray, ask God that this phone call will go in our favour. I will also go to the GP to ask about my medication for my PCOS. I may need to stay on this as it helps other symptoms as well as infertility but if my hormone levels are OK I could come off it gradually, which would be great.

So we are drawing a line in the sand and moving on.

Mother's day

Today is Mothering Sunday. A day of giving thanks for mothers and the gift of motherhood. A day for daddy to help kiddies treat mummy for the day. A day for saying thank you to your mum for everything she's done for you. It's a day for hearts to be happy.

But for me, and for so many others it's a day when my heart is heavy. So, this year, on Mothering Sunday I want to acknowledge those for whom this day is a painful reminder of what they have lost, or are yet to have.

This morning you didn't wake up to messy breakfast in bed and cute handmade cards. You didn't get treated to a lie in while hubby dealt with the kids. This morning was just another morning for you. Your heart aches for these things but years have gone by since you and hubby started trying.
You are not alone. You are a valued daughter of God and he sees your tears and knows the desires of your heart. Happy Mother's day!

This morning you didn't wake up to hear your baby crying. Instead you woke up remembering the baby you carried in your womb went straight to heaven and you never got to meet her on earth. You woke up with empty arms and a heavy heart again.
God sees you, lovely lady. He loves you and loves your baby. Your babies life matters and counts no matter when she died. Happy Mother's Day!

This morning you woke up alone, again. You didn't get to look into the eyes of the man you love, the man who would be the father of your children. You know the clock is ticking and you may never be a mother simply because you never found the right guy.
God wants you to know you are loved and valued by so many people, not least Him. But he knows the longings of your heart. He hears your cries and collects your tears. Happy Mother's Day!

This morning you didn't get to call your Mum to wish her happy mother's day. You didn't get to hug her, smell her hair as it got in your face, laugh it off when she embarrassed you in public. You didn't get to tell her you love her. You miss her no matter how long she's been gone for.
God sees your heart. He is your comfort today and everyday. He knows the emptiness you feel since you lost your Mum. Happy Mother's Day!

There are so many others who find today hard too. Single Mums, people with difficult relationships with their children/Mums, people who have had their children adopted... The list goes on. You are all valid, valued and important. Happy Mother's Day to you all!