If you’d been in a certain branch of Starbucks in Berkshire on Monday afternoon you may have noticed a slightly dishevelled pregnant woman on the comfy sofa in the corner eating a Rocky Road cake. She’d managed to cordon off a small area with a squashy seat and pushchair to barricade in her escaping toddler. She could be overheard explaining to her eldest son that if everyone jumped on the chairs in Starbucks there would be nothing left for people to sit on. She may have forgotten to brush her hair that morning. There were probably dried rusk stains on her trousers.
This is probably the image I present to the outside world. One glance and you may think I could produce children at the drop of a hat. This isn’t necessarily true. A few years ago I would never have dreamt the above description would be me. Husband and I were trying for a baby but nothing was happening for us.
It took me three years to get pregnant with Podge. I don’t know why, it just did. There was nothing wrong with us and luckily we didn’t have to endure any fertility treatment. It just took a long time. And during those three years I had two miscarriages. I don’t know why this happened either.
I’ll never forget the longing I had to be a mum. For me it was an instinctive urge, something I’d always wanted to do and something I’d assumed I would do. Despite my busy life and happy marriage, there was a gap which could only be filled by having a child. The longer it took to get pregnant, the larger this gap seemed to grow. Each month I hoped would be ‘the month’ when I found out I was pregnant. The disappointment each time would leave me in tears for a few days.
When I became pregnant I was overjoyed, I was finally going to experience motherhood. The first miscarriage happened at nine weeks of pregnancy, the second at eight weeks. The miscarriages happened early on and I should be thankful for that. But I was devastated. After the second miscarriage I began to doubt I’d ever have a successful pregnancy. There are lots of triggers which upset you at times like these: a nappy advert on the television, baby magazines on a newsagent’s shelf, friends telling you they’re pregnant. This last one was tricky. I was pleased for my pregnant friends, I didn’t want to deny them any happiness. But it seemed unfair, why them and not me?
Comments from other people didn’t help. As soon as we got married, people asked when we were going to have children. A few years after we got married, people were still asking. Occasionally I’d tell them the truth and they’d wish they hadn’t been nosey. It’s an insensitive question to ask someone, unless you know them really well.
What did I try to help me get pregnant? I gave up alcohol and caffeine, I ate as healthily as I could, I worked out at the gym, I took vitamin supplements. I nagged husband to do the same. I wanted to forget about trying for a baby. But that was impossible. Once I’d decided I wanted a baby, it became an obsession. I read up on everything pregnancy-related, I joined online forums for people trying to conceive. We got an appointment with a fertility expert and she told us there was nothing wrong with us. We couldn’t understand it.
Podge was born four years after we got married. Finally we were parents! I don’t know why this pregnancy worked out successfully when the others hadn’t. It can only have been lots of good luck.
Lots of people go through an experience like this. For many it’s worse: they have to endure IVF or other fertility treatment. Some are told they’re unable to have their own biological children. So I’m lucky. Really lucky that I don’t have time to brush my hair properly or notice the rusk on my trousers. Children are hard work. My own children leave me exhausted at the end of each day. And I never get a break: it’s a 24/7 responsibility. In a previous post I joked about life before children. But would I change my life now for another? Never.
This post was written by Whistlejacket,a mum to two boys in her 30s that lives in Berkshire. She's expecting a third baby at the end of 2009. This has been carefully planned so she can be disorganised at Christmas and have a good excuse. You can read more at her blog, Babyrambles.
Photo credit: meganmills
It is indeed a mystery why sometimes it happens straight away, and other times it takes so long. I know from my own family that we've got some family members who've been trying and trying, and many years on, still no success. With others in my family it took many years, and then all of a sudden the kids just started popping out every few years, much to their delight.
My Dad occasionally talks about how, God only gives kids to those parents who are ready to have them..
Being religious, I'd agree to a point. But more importantly, I think sometimes, the process of trying, and waiting patiently and just persevering is the hardest challenge. And depending on how badly you want it, eventually you'll succeed.
Like so many things in life that are worthy of having, the more patience you need to have, and the longer you have to wait, the sweeter the fruits of that waiting become. Perhaps sometimes we just need to learn to relax more, and trust that things will happen in their own time, as they need to??
I've given up trying to even predict when I might have kids, let alone expecting them as my perogative, simply because I haven't even managed to find a suitable spouse to spend my life with. But I guess the less I say about that the better.
Well, well done for having the courage and determination to hang in there, and keep trying.. I guess it's a lesson for other couples out there that are trying that sometimes it just takes a bit of time, and apart from patience, and consistence, there isn't much else to do, other than eat right, exercise, supplement, and keep on trying.
Thanks for sharing.
@farhan
Family2.o
Posted by: Farhan Rehman | 26 August 2009 at 16:16