Contrary to popular belief I don't actually 'tell
the world' everything. I tell 'the world' what I want 'the world' to
know. I work in PR after all. There are things that I want to talk
about on a general level and then there are things that I discuss with people
who I feel can contribute or assist in some kind of meaningful way. I
have people I talk to about my work. I have people I talk to about
relationships and friendships. I have people I talk to about motherhood.
And I have people I talk to about infertility. Because, that's something
I have been dealing with for several years now and chosen not to
broadcast.
The great news is that I am now expecting my second
child and I feel like I can write about this without anger or resentment or
pain because I have more than I could ever have wished for. I'm extremely
aware that I am one of the very lucky ones. I was hesitant to publish our
baby news on social media last week because I know what a dagger to the heart
that feels like when one so fiercely wishes it was you with the news, you with
the morning sickness, you with the tight pants and the stretch marks. I
know that feeling and I get it.
The truth is, I went off the pill in 2009. My
son had just turned one and I was 'ready' (haha) to start thinking about having
a second child. It had taken us a year to fall pregnant with our first
and I assumed that would happen again. My 'plan' (haha) included an
almost 3 year gap which seemed conservative and manageable. I'm told by
everyone I know with 2 or more children that there is in fact no perfect gap
and no 2nd child is an easy addition… but of course you love them more than you
thought you possibly could etc. I got that.
In 2010 my husband quit his job and we moved
continents from Dublin back to Australia, which had become 'home' in our
nostalgic musings. We took a long trip via South Africa to get to Sydney
and I was convinced that I would get pregnant somewhere along the yellow brick
road to Oz. The return to Sydney was difficult. You can never 'go
back' - as they say. And it's true. Everything was different. Our circle
of friends had changed through additions of children and breakdowns of
marriages. New partners were on the scene and largely people were struggling -
with the job market and with each other. As we had all entered our mid
30s and 40s, life had become irreparably complex and our merry band of carefree
(mainly) immigrant friends were dealing with that thing commonly known as 'real
life'.
I started a part-time job and then added another
part-time job on top of that. My husband eventually landed a contract for 3
months which got extended and we began settling into Sydney life. Our 3
years in Dublin included nannies and cleaners and an abundance of 'ex-pat'
revelry. Sydney was a rather rude awakening after that and the stress
manifested in a series of illnesses for the 3 of us. Colds and flu's and
diverticulitis and ear infections … and 2 back-to-back miscarriages for me
(while on a course of Clomid in 2011). Eventually, I went back to my old
job (the one I'd left in 2007 to go to Dublin) and I decided to focus on that.
Things were entirely on the upswing. My husband's contract had been
extended again and we began to see a future in the place, which we hoped would
be home.
As is our general pattern, the moment we got
'settled', the call came for us to move to New York. I had become content
in Sydney - our lives had normalized and our careers were thriving. Our
son was settled in a superb pre-school near our home and had access to an
exceptional local "big" school the following year. We had our
baby-sitters in place and had reacquainted ourselves with our friends and
reinserted ourselves into our 'circle'. We still decided fairly quickly to say
yes to the move and the opportunity for 6 months in the most exciting city in
the world.
We continued on our quest for baby but were having
a little bit too much fun to really get too disappointed by the monthly
failures. Eventually, the New York role became permanent for my husband
and, when it became clear that this Manhattan madness was to become 'real
life', my quest for baby reasserted itself but the fear of IVF and other
intrusive options kept me a little bit ambivalent. I wanted my son to
have a sibling but I was also really rather happy with my life exactly as it
was. I was, however, a little nervous about hitting the 40+ zone and having
regrets. Midway through 2013 we had another loss. Three losses were as
many as I felt able to deal with. I am very resilient and I am very
strong, but the pain of those losses is something that will never leave me.
I think only women who have been through miscarriage have any idea
- whether it be early on or a little later - what THAT feeling is. The
indescribable joy and then the total devastation so soon after. Not for
the faint of heart.
When our son started Kindergarten in the latter
half of 2013, I decided to book an appointment with an infertility specialist.
The soonest I could get was 17 December. Halloween, Thanksgiving and
Hanukkah distracted me and, in early December, I realized that I was over a
week 'late'. Five years of erratic cycles and 'maybe maybe maybe' haunted
me. I didn't do a test until days of dizziness eventually took me on a
trip to the local drug store. I decided to do it the way they recommend
on the instructions for once. I peed on my 10 000th stick and left it in the
bathroom while I waited in the living room for 3 minutes. I returned to
the bathroom to find 'Pregnant' written on the digital stick.
I spent several hours on google and eventually
found an OBGYN who was located near enough to my husband's office for him to be
able to come to appointments with me. I called and scheduled my first
appointment. It was to be on 17 December. The same day that I had
scheduled my infertility treatment to begin. My mantra for the last couple of
years in New York has been 'Leap and the wind will catch you' and I feel like
that is exactly what happened. I needed to make that mental shift and accept
that what we were dealing with was secondary infertility and I needed to ask
for help. As it turns out, the help came from well above that scheduled
IVF appointment on the 17th floor.
The usual anguish-filled wait until the 12 week mark had some unexpected additions which added to my emotional state. They also made me realize how important it is to pursue the things you really want NOW and not wait for anything or anyone. You never know what is around that next corner or what the next phone call will be - for better or for worse.
I'm excited for 2014 and hoping it will be filled with more good news than bad but, contrary to popular belief, you probably won't hear about it until I'm ready.
