Having a baby - as easy as 1,2,3

Having a baby for some people is sometimes as simple as thinking 'I want a baby', and then before you know it, they are knocked up and ready to go. Their pregnancy is a breeze, their labor a piece of cake and the next thing you know, they are on their way to baby number 2, 3 or 9.

For others, like myself, it takes years. Years of planning, of multiple appointments with a variety of doctors, all trying to work out why you can't get pregnant (or just as bad, why you can't stay pregnant). And for those of us who have to rely on science to help Mother Nature along, it becomes an emotional roller coaster that at times, feels like it will never end. 

And for others, it never begins, because for whatever reason, being pregnant is just not in the cards for them.

I have never NOT talked about Little P being an IVF baby, but it's not something that I will just volunteer to talk about either. Even now, two plus years down the track, bringing it up in a conversation still chokes me up. But after recently talking with a friend of mine who is going through IVF, I decided it was finally time for me to get it out there. To let others know that yes, it sucks. It sucks big time, having to bring science into something that should really be a natural occurrence. And I could totally tell you what a wonderful experience it was, how it was all glitter and unicorns. But I'd be lying. Because it was hard, and it was long, and it was painful. 

Our little miracle - Little P

So here are the things I'm not going to tell you:

I won't tell you it was an easy decision, because it wasn't. Admitting that you, as a wife and as a woman, can not do that one thing that every woman should be able to do, is heart breaking and makes you feel like a failure. No matter what any one else tells you, you still feel like you let everyone down.

I won't tell you how incredibly hard, both physically and emotionally it is.

I won't tell you that every time you hear it didn't work your heart while break a little more, or that you feel like giving up, because to keep going hurts so much.

I won't tell you that when you hear that you are pregnant you will feel both elated and terrified at the same time.

I won't tell you how incredibly devastating it is to find out that you miscarried for whatever reason. Or how a little piece of you dies every time you hear those words 'I'm sorry, you lost the baby' (four times for us).

I won't tell you how going through the process leaves you bruised in places you didn't think you could get bruises. That the medication makes you feel ill, or that the fact that you have to inject yourself daily (sometimes multiple times) makes you feel more like a pincushion than a person. 

I won't tell you how bitter and angry you get at the universe, or how every time you see or hear someone else is pregnant that you think to yourself 'I hate that bitch', and immediately feel horrible for thinking that. 

I won't tell you how many times you will curl up in a public restroom and cry, because you just saw someone with a pregnant belly, or holding a new born, or you just happened to walk through the children's department in a store and you lost it.

I won't tell you that no matter how much someone loves you, you feel that the pain is yours alone to bear, even though you know it's not.

I won't tell you how you will hold your breath and your heart will skip a beat when you hear that heart beat for the first time. Or how hard you will cry when you see that first image on the screen of your little one (or ones).

Does this shirt make me look fat?

I won't tell you that even though your morning sickness lasts three long months, you are just so thankful to be pregnant, that you don't complain about it.

I won't tell you that even though it's safe to tell people you are pregnant, you keep it to yourself just a little while longer, hoping that you start to show first.

I won't tell you how you will just stare at your belly, imagining the little person that's growing inside of you, and how you will be blown away by how much you can love someone that you haven't even met yet.

I won't tell you that for the last eight weeks you may need to be monitored almost daily, strapped to a heart rate monitor, just to make sure both you and the baby are doing okay.

But I will tell you that the moment they place that tiny person in your arms for the first time, that you will not only cry with joy and relief, but also with grief for the little ones who were called back to Heaven too soon.

And I will tell you, that after all you just went through, you won't think twice about doing it again.

Because in the end, it's so worth it.

K