Look out Infertility, I got your number…

It’s no secret infertility and I have long been battling this year. She throws up a curve ball at us every month and we dodge it. Or at least we think we do. Then she ups her ammo a bit to wrecking ball proportions and we all know there’s no hiding from them. Specially ones on big fat chains. So it would appear yet again that nasty nasty little biatch has slapped us up with another of her brutal blows. Big. Fat. Negative. No good. Nothing. Nudda. This time it actually hurt.

With each and every loss through our seven cycles of IVF this year (yes that would be se-ven) I’ve jumped back up on the horse’s back and soldiered on. Through seven lots of drugs. Seven lots of steroids. Seven lots of progesterone. Seven lots of blood tests. Seven lots of waiting. Seven phone calls to tell us ‘sorry, it didn’t work this time’. We all have our breaking point and while  I’d like to say to Godmother Fertility that I got her number and I gonna find her and kick her lily white ass into next week, truth be told, I’m not even sure I’ve got the energy. A bit of a slap round the ankles is probably about as much as I can muster right now.

We thought it would work. No we really really did. What with all the testosterone, the melatonin, the steroids, something’s gotta make one of the lil’ embies stick, surely? Well no. No it didn’t. The only thing it appears to have helped with is the mood swings and weight gain – yes, the two of my most very favourite parts of IVF. And two of the things I’m managing to increase quite rapidly on my own thanks.

I was rather looking forward to celebrating our Island chrissie this year with a little bump on board. I even bought a special new bikini for the unveiling of it. And the only thing I really really really wanted was the one thing I clearly can’t have.

Yes I’ll still count my blessings. And yes, life will still go on. It just makes the grief all the more harder when you think you came this close to it actually working. Within a caterpillar’s toenail of having our dream come true and then poof…just as quickly as you thought mid-week, mid-11-day-wait that you were up the knock…your dreams are shattered like a mirror with the reality yet another one didn’t take.

While my heart aches for my family that we, or maybe I have failed yet again, and that a tiny bit of our dream gets chipped away with each loss the most incredible bouquet of all my favourite bright fuschia flowers with tiny diamantes peeking out from their heads handed to me by the one person who makes this all worth while is enough to give me the strength to keep on going. Infertility, you might have got this one but by f*&% am I gonna break you next time. I. Will. Win. Love n’hugs, Lady MamaG xox