Saturday 26 February 2011

We were pregnant for a weekend

I thought it was about time I tried to get my thoughts in order. It's been nearly four weeks since ivf #1 failed with a chemical pregnancy.

We were pregnant for a weekend. My first ever BFP. And even though I was spotting and the line was so faint and I just knew it didn't feel right, I wanted to believe it so much that I ignored all the alarm bells.

So we cried happy tears, we got excited, we talked and we planned - the next few weeks, the next nine months, our entire lives.

And the next day, the Monday morning, came the bfn. I've never peed on so many sticks in such a short space of time as I did in those few days.

But the blood test confirmed it. I'd been pregnant but I wasn't any more. At least one of our beautiful embabies, maybe both, had tried really hard to make it but they just weren't strong enough.

Since then I've been mostly numb. I haven't shed many tears. I've been avoiding people close to me. I've been listening to loud music. I've been throwing myself into my job. I've been going through the motions of everyday life.

Sadness, shame, guilt, responsibility, fear, failure, anger, exhaustion are all mixed up together in a big tangled messy heap.

I feel like I'm on the outside looking in. I feel like I don't know how to be.

I know if I'm going to find the mental and physical strength to do this all again some time soon, but more importantly to believe it can work, I need to pick my way through that tangled heap and try to make some sense of it.

I'm working on it.