Yesterday was a big day.

Yesterday was a big day. It marked one year since our 8 embryos were created. It has been quite a year! All 8 embryos survived to 5 days and were biopsied for genetic testing and then frozen. A few weeks later we found out that 2 embryos were chromosomally abnormal and would not be viable so we had to let them perish, our first 2 losses. Another 2 embryos were found to have chromosome issues that may or may not result in a viable pregnancy. Those 2 remain frozen and we will decide what to do with them when we need to. Due to complications we weren't able to have frozen embryo transfer till October. That transfer ended with a negative pregnancy test, our third loss. We were shocked, we didn't expect it to fail. Thankfully we were able to try again straightaway. That second transfer gave me my first ever positive pregnancy test. Sadly it ended in miscarriage in January, our 4th and most profound loss.
Yesterday was a big day. I started taking medication to prepare my body for frozen embryo transfer number 3. I have already been buffeted by side effects but am coping. I don't know what's going to happen with this embryo. I'd love it to develop into our first baby we can hold in our arms. However as our turbulent year proves we have no way of knowing. I am trying my best to trust God but it's hard. A few weeks ago we were at the annual festival for our family of churches. It was an encouraging time. I was reminded that we are not alone and that friends and God are for us in this. I was also reminded that we took a leap of faith in doing ivf. I am still convinced that ivf is God's will for us at this time but have no idea what is going to happen.
Yesterday was a big day!

Run baby run!

Tomorrow I'm running in a 10k race to raise money for Infertility Network UK. It's the climax of my physical recovery from miscarriage and the start of getting ready for transferring our next frozen embryo. As I've been training for the race I've been thinking about the inevitable comparison with the metaphorical race of life. Going through infertility and miscarriage is like running up a never-ending hill. I'm tired, it hurts and I can't see how I can possibly carry on. But those feelings come in a physical run too. And on the most part I carry on and feel much better for it at the end. I'm really trying to carry that through to the metaphorical race of infertility but it's really hard when you can't see the end.
Last night was one of the hills in my metaphorical race. We went to the monthly board games night ran by our church. It was overwhelmed with families with really young babies. At least it felt that way to me! I lost my baby while these mums were pregnant and seeing them all together felt like a huge reminder of what I've lost. One of the babies belongs to some friends who we are enjoying getting to know better. I've been trying to psych myself up to hold their baby since she was born. Last night I did and shortly after she started crying so bad they had to go home. I know it wasn't about me but boy that was hard! It made me want to run and hide right there. But I didn't and what's more I went to church this morning. Yes I cried my way through the service but I was there. We were able to get prayer at the end from some good friends which really helped. I do feel like I am falling apart a lot of the time. There is some other stuff going on in my life just now too and I don't feel strong enough. But I have been reminded that I don't need to be! God's strong enough to carry it all.
So tomorrow I'll be running my physical race thinking about my metaphorical race. I may feel like giving up in both but I know I can survive both races.

We are not alone, really!

Last Sunday we spent the morning cheering on runners in the local half marathon. They had their names written on their numbers so we shouted out their names and have encouragement to individuals. People would hear their names and turn and thank us. At times our calling people by name made struggling walkers start running again. It made me realise that our infertility and miscarriage journey is like a race. Our friends and family have been great at cheering us on and giving us individual encouragement. However, lately I've felt like we've been running along a patch with no supporters. No one cheering us on, no one encouraging us by name. I think it's partly because nothing is really happening just now and I'm getting impatient. Also partly because I've not been able to get to church for six weeks and the midweek groups are on a break. Life has been super busy and we have been physically alone for a few weeks. We did have a lovely week in Edinburgh and were reminded of support from afar by old friends. I know we're supported, I've just not been feeling it lately.

Anyway, cheering on the runners and seeing them encouraged reminded me we're not alone. I was further reminded of this truth at church that afternoon (due to the half marathon). A word was brought about Jesus being alone in his suffering on the cross which led to an opportunity to pray for people feeling alone in suffering. I raised my hand in response without even realising what I'm doing. I was having a hard time in church. The feeling of being alone was weighing very heavy and tears were already rolling down my cheeks. We were prayed for by friend and people around us and I had a real tangible reminder that we were not alone. It was a special moment.

I'd love to say that during that prayer time the heaviness lifted and I have no longer felt alone. I did feel wonderfully supported and loved but I've had a hard time shaking the feeling of being alone all week. I'm really struggling emotionally at the moment and I don't know why. I burst into tears at the smallest thing, often at work, and feel like I've got no soft edges at the moment. I feel like a horrible person and it's hard to pray. All this is exasperating the feelings of being alone as I feel like I'm not worth people spending time with me. Work is quite stressful at the moment which doesn't help. I know I'm not a horrid person but am going through a tough patch just now. I do no we're not alone. We have the support of friends, family and God, I just need to believe it!

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.

When will this get easier?

I hate what infertility and miscarriage does to me. I hate that it makes me feel like a horrible person. I was on the tea and coffee rota at church this morning so had to be in a particular place. While I was stood at the back of the hall serving a new Mum came and sat down next to where I was standing and feed her brand new baby. Obviously then people started coming and talking to her and cooing over the little girl. I couldn't help but hear what people were saying and see how people gravitated towards them with a smile. I managed a quick glance and a smile but couldn't bring myself to say anything. My heart was breaking. I so want it to be me people are congratulating. I managed 5 minutes of forcing myself to smile through the tears and serve the tea and coffee. Eventually though it was too much. I said I needed to go to the bathroom and ran off. Once safely locked in a cubicle I burst into tears and had a good cry. This ordeal has the potential to turn me into a horrid bitter women. I'm trying really hard not to go down that road. I'm trying to let God use me in my weakness and brokenness but sometimes it's just too much. Of course right now I have a painful physical reminder that I'm no longer pregnant which doesn't help. I feel like I have failed this morning. I feel like as our miscarriage was weeks ago I should be strong enough to deal with new babies by now. Please note the I feels. I do not think these things. I wish my ache for a baby want so raw it interrupts my daily living. But it is and I just have to get on with it I guess!