My Story

Capture

Welcome to my Blog,

I am 31, married and living in London. I have a baby boy.

This is my story…

In September 2013, after 9 months of trying to conceive, we found out that natural conception was improbable – IVF was the only option. Unfortunate yes, but by no means the end of the world. After needles, pills, suppositories, mood swings, scans, an egg collection, an embryo transfer and an agonising wait we were thrilled to be pregnant. Full of excitement, hope and expectation we dreamed and fantasised about life with our baby. Baby names were discussed, pram research was undertaken, the wallpaper samples arrived.

But devastatingly, cruelly, it was not to be. Our world shattered when we were told at our 20 week scan that our baby was suffering from health complications which would severely affect our precious child’s quality of life. Crushed, utterly inconsolable and completely shocked, we made the heart-breaking decision to terminate the pregnancy. The ordeal was awful, but not in comparison to the challenge of coming to terms with the turn of events.

We rebuilt ourselves after the overwhelming sadness and grief. Grief for the decision we had to make, the loss of our special baby, and the emptiness that engulfed our lives and hearts. We became pregnant again and were filled with anxiety about our babies health. It was hard to imagine that we could have a positive outcome after the experience we had. While we had fear, we also had hope. Hope that someday if we continued to wake up, survive and sleep then eventually we would get a baby to love. When our son arrived our dreams came true – I hope yours will too.

Good luck to you all,

D x

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2 thoughts on “My Story

  1. I’m not sure where to start, whether I should begin with how I found your blog today or the why your blog drew me in. My name is Sierra I’m 22 about to turn 23. When I was 17 I met the man i can honestly say I never dreamed about. I’ve always been different than the other girls from my small home town. Unlike them I never dreamed about love, marriage, and babies, no I dream of college, photography, and traveling. I didn’t have the best mother, so st 17 being a wife or mother was of my worst nightmares I now know that was my own inner fear of failing the ways she did. But all the same at 17 I met the man who made those things look so good, admittedly I’ve always like older men, so when I saw him I assumed from his physic he was maybe a late twenty something. As I walked up to my bestfriend Russell’s home I was greeted in usual manner and introduced to (at my dismay) his 39 year old Uncle Monty. I was shocked to say the least, but unable to process as Monty smiled politely an shook my hand. For the next several months i was as every other girl in my home town love sick hanging around hoping this man would suddenly see a woman instead of his nephews friend. Eventually I confessed everything I’d been feeling to Russell, I’d hoped he would tell me i was crazy, instead he informed me he believed I was just who Monty needed but that i was to young and it would never happen. So I stopped hanging about and stuck my head back into the books. Almost a year later as I stood in our local bar, I felt a tap on my shoulder. As I turned around, there was Monty I hadn’t seen him in months but those eyes were the same. He said hello and apologized for tapping me. He said he thought I was someone else, I asked him who he had been looking for, and I was praying she wasnt there. He surprised me by saying no one he had just thought to introduce himself to a young woman whom was just as alone as he was. From there it went we laughed and talked for hours, he even showed me how to dance, when he dropped me off that evening. I thought nothing when I told my parents he’d brought me home, and taught me to dance, I was 18 legally they had no right to say or do anything. But they started in with how I was to never see him again I couldn’t speak to him again, and if he was at a place I was going, I couldn’t go. So for the next four months we fell in love in silence. No one knew we were seeing each other, I was always going out with some anonymous caller from out of town or school. I often joke now that he was the biggest lie i ever told, abruptly though Monty got a new job working states away and we decided to try a long distance relationship. It was almost two months after he started working out of town that i realized my period was late. My mind started racing, attempting to remember my last cycle, frantically try to convince myself I’d just forgot to mark it on the calendar the month before. The next day I convinced a woman at Wal-Mart to buy me three different pregnancy tests, as I didn’t want to been seen buying them myself. As you know most suggest for the best results to do the tests with your first urination of the day. So I waited wondering how this happened we’d always used protection, I’d never missed a pill, what would happen if I was, how would I tell my parents, how would I tell Monty, how would I tell my parents about Monty and I, and so on an so forth. I decided two things the next morning as I sat on the edge of the tub staring at two obviously positive and one inconclusive texts, that I’d do everything I could to make sure if there was a child growing inside of me to love it more than anyone had been loved before and that until I knew for sure I’d tell no one anything . Two days later it was confirmed and a appointment set to find out how far along I am and so I called Monty, we talked for a minute or two I asked if he’d be coming home that weekend as usual but he said it’d be the next weekend as. So I asked him how he’d rather get big news over the phone or in person. He said in person, and processed to ask many questions until he gave up and conversation resumed. For the next week i dreamed of two possible lives I could have one with Monty one without so scared he’d turn away from me but still sure I wanted my baby more than anything I’d wanted before. For one week I felt a joy, hope, and love I’d never felt, for one week I felt alive. Halloween night came and I decided to stay home instead of going to a party with friends. I anit dinner passed out candy to trick or treaters and went to bed early. I woke up to intense pain an cramping with blood on my sweats. I knew then but still walked the six small blocks to the hospital. And at 2:43 am on Nov. 1 i was told I’d miscarrie my child. The medicine to stop it was allergic to and there wasn’t anything they could do. They offered to “speed things up”, asked if I wanted them to call anyone for me. I just wanted to know why this was happening and No one could tell me, against doctor advice I left. I went home changed my clothes and layed there and cried. I cried for the pain, I cried for my self, but mainly i cried for the love I never got to meet. Around 7 am I had my unknown baby, unknown age, unknow sex, unknown to the world. This tiny little thing I held in my hand no bigger than a fifty cent piece, had so much ove wrapped up in itself I have no way of knowing but in my heart my baby was a boy, not would have been but was. I placed him under a walnut tree next to my dog Kirby whom I’d had sense I was seven and passed the year before. I prayed and prayed then I asked Kirby to keep him safe. On Nov. 3 after two days of ignored emails, texts, and calls. Monty knocked on the door of my parents house with a single yellow rose, he informed my parents and I that he was in love with me and there was nothing anyone or anything could to change how he felt, there was a tense few moments when I realized they were waiting for what I would say. I told my parents then that i loved him too and no what what they did we would be together some way some how. We count that day as our anniversary because we were finally free to be with each other, but i couldn’t make the words come out especially when he told me he’d always wanted children but hadn’t been given the chance. It wasn’t until the next year on Nov. 1st did I finally tell Monty by then we had our own home in another state. It had eaten away at my core for a year, holding my pain inside for a year, and I was on the verge of a mental break down. I was terrified he’d never believe me, or that he’d blame me, hate me even, but i had to tell him. When I did the firat question he asked was one i never expected, he wanted to know why I didn’t tell him and then we cried. It has been four years now and I don’t believe the pain will ever completely go away, sense then we’ve never become pregnant again. But we’re making still in love, and doing good. I’ve learned to accept that that dream may never become reality for us. Scrolling through Facebook this morning I found a photo of a sculpture of The Child Who Was Never born. I switched browser’s to Google and there read the story of the sculpture and a few links away there was the photo you have here of it. Underneath the photo was the link for this blog, there was the words that described that year I lived with my pain and depression alone. I woke up, I survived, and then I’d sleep. After I read your story I wept for your family and your struggle but mostly for your heart. I hope one day soon your hopes and dreams come true. Thank you for sharing experiences.
    –Sierra

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