Wednesday, 12 March 2014

Them And Us...

8 years out from my first miscarriage, and I have no children. I don't have a baby. I haven't even been able to get pregnant.
For eight years now, I have been sitting on the side lines, patience waning. And ever since DH and I got married, questions have been coming in thick and fast;
"When are you going to have kids?"
"Have you got kids of your own?"
"Not long now til' kids of your own?"
"Are you planning to have a family?"
"Are you trying to get pregnant."
These are just a few of the questions I have been asked by complete strangers, friends and even family. As someone who is a repeat pregnancy loss survivor, with no children to show yet, this is heartbreaking.
Whenever I am asked, I smile, and I quickly say " We aren't actively trying, but would be happy with a surprise!". But deep down, I know I cannot say the honest truth.
That I am a mother.
That my babies died.
That I am praying my body just accepts a pregnancy.
That I just want a baby.
That I feel left out.

I am eight years down the road from my first pregnancy, and almost all of my friends are parents. Even the ones who have gone on to have a baby after a loss.

Meanwhile, my group of childless friends is shrinking more as each day passes. My facebook feed is filled with pictures of newborns, of babies, toddlers and kids.

Mine is filled with pictures of food. And my cat.

And that breaks my heart.

I have a feeling I will be waiting for a long while. So while you are complaining about lack of sleep, about teething, about school fees, I am waiting.

Just wishing I could even experience a sleepless night with a baby, or the terrible two tantrums. I didn't get to see Lily start school- she'd be 7 next month, and in year 1 at school. Be still my heart.

Please don't forget about me. I am here, I hurt. Please don't put me into the category "Well, you don't have children, so you just.don'" I don't get it- but its not my choice.

Please don't forget me.

Saturday, 1 March 2014

Sticks and Stones

This week at work has been challenging. A student shared some information with me about their life, which brought up a lot of memories for me. After years of bullying at the hands of classmates, and devastatingly, "friends", I began to hate myself, inside and out.
I hated what I saw, I hated who I was. I struggled to understand what I had done to deserve to be told I was " so ugly, I should kill myself".
Not only did I stop eating, which caused me to lose so much weight that it has affected my fertility in the long run, but I also fell head first into self harming.
Even today, I have five visible scars on my upper forearm. They are from the last time I ever cut myself. Weeks after my first miscarriage, when I lost Lily.
Only in certain light are they even visible, but to me, they are glaringly obvious.
I am not ashamed of my coping mechanism of that time, I am not ashamed, as they prove that I have survived what some cannot.
What seeing those scars does do is bring back memories of being so alone, in so much pain, so confused. It makes me fill ill that people had caused that pain, that I let them get inside of my head and break me.
What makes me sad is the fact that I was too proud, and too strong to seek support from my friends.
My best friend when she found out, she cried. I can remember getting angry at her, for being upset for me. It wasn't that I wanted to kill myself, I just needed an outlet for the rage, the pain and the sorrow.
What makes me angry is the fact that people simply do not realise that words can hurt. Words can ruin lives. Words ruined my childhood.

To prevent one child from feeling this is something I do in my job, to be able to encourage my students to share their feelings in a safe environment, and to not have to face being bullied at least for 60 minutes while they are in my class.

Please, if you are a teenager reading this, realise that to you, they may be words, but to others, those words can have a lifelong affect.

I still don't feel deserving, even as a married woman with a career, a home and well and truly on my way to my 30's.

Because of some words.

Monday, 20 January 2014

The Why

I decided that 2014 called for a new blogging platform. Wordpress served me well for many, many years- I think nearly 6 years- and because of the change in headspace, I wanted to change up how I blog.

For those who are new to me in the blog-o-sphere, this is a quick run down.

I am a teacher who is trained in the secondary sector. I love my job!
I am married to a wonderful man, whom I will refer to as DH ( darling husband).
We recently built our first home together.
I have had one two two miscarriages to date.
I live each day to the full for my butterfly babies who did not get to stay.
I am very active in the Pregnancy and Infant Loss community in my city.
My best friends are all 30-something women with kids. I am waiting for it to be my turn.
I am hoping to begin to TTC over the next 18 months, but before that begins, we are investigating fertility testing.
I have one pet, a cat, who I love with all my heart. We are hoping to add to our animal menagerie over the next 6 months!

The focus of this blog will hopefully shift away from the pain of losing a baby, to life beyond grief.

Love and light,
E x