The day after I posted my last blog (reminder: negative pregnancy test, irregular cycle & full blown meltdown), I decided to take another test. I was nauseous and tired, and I just felt like something was up, but I had convinced myself I was imagining these symptoms (don't tell me you haven't done it before!) Sure enough, it was negative and I walked away feeling stupid for being a serial pee-on-a-stick offender. A couple of minutes later I walked past the test and saw two lines. The second one was super faint, but it was there. The first thing I did? I giggled! Like you do when you're tipsy & everything is hilarious. I'm putting that down to shock and disbelief...I couldn't believe it. In fact I didn't.
After my successful uterine septum resection surgery in November, I have had a period and we are currently in our first cycle of trying to conceive baby #2! I’m pretty sure I even ovulated all on my own like a big girl! We are obviously super excited but I’m going to be honest, I’ve had a few freak-out moments! Mostly, I’m worried that I won’t love my second child as much as I love James. I know this sounds silly, but after almost 2 years trying to conceive, a miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy and a scary premature birth, James is our little miracle who we thought we might never meet. I almost feel greedy for wanting to add another little babe to the mix.
My name is Amy. I’m 28 years old and grew up in the Adelaide Hills. I’m a Registered Nurse, and I love coffee – I think these two things go hand in hand! I’m also a wife to Scott, and a Mum to a healthy, happy 20-month-old boy named James. From the outside looking in, my life is pretty textbook, and pretty perfect. And it is! But there’s a reason people say, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ – because you might miss an amazing story. And this is mine…
Dr L had done his research and read our notes, so I didn’t have to repeat our story. He knew that we’d had a rough time and he understood that I felt ignored. We discussed the surgery and Dr L was honest…my (uterine) septum was thick, and it was challenging. One of the first things he asked me is ‘how far are you willing to go?’, but I had no idea that he meant literally....
On Monday, I finally had the diagnostic HSG (hysterosalpingogram) required to determine the success of my uterine septum resection surgery. In other words, they took some fancy pictures to check how much septum was remaining in my uterus after they had attempted to remove it. After getting into a gown and having the procedure explained, the radiographer left the room to organise her team. I sat butt-naked on the side of the cold bed feeling completely exposed thinking ‘it shouldn’t be this hard’. I was over it…the invasive procedures, the constant appointments, the poking and prodding, the clinical and sterile aspect to what was meant to be a natural part of life. I felt like an experiment. Sitting here writing this now, I can feel the same heaviness in my chest and the lump in my throat as when I was sitting in that cold, empty room fighting back the tears.
Yesterday I woke up before the sun to get ready for my hysteroscopy +/- laparoscopy to finally get some answers on my uterus. At this stage I wasn’t feeling nervous, I was even joking with Scott about how this might be the last time he saw me (dramatic much?) My Mum had taken James the night before, and mostly we missed waking up to him. So we stood in the bathroom watching videos of him giggling before Scott went to work. I packed a hospital bag but was adamant I would be breaking out that night. My heart would literally break into pieces if I didn’t see James all day, and then they’d have to do another operation to stick that back together. So yes, I was coming home that day.
Scott and I have recently been deliberating over whether we would once again share our journey to pregnancy (and beyond) through my blog. I knew I would be writing it all down like last time as a way of coping with my emotions and processing what we are going through (and to save Scott from my emotional outbursts every 5 minutes), but I was unsure if I would share it immediately considering the likelihood that something might go wrong. But last week I received a message from a Mum who has been following our journey since I shared my first ever blog about infertility. She said my posts were inspirational during their struggle to conceive, and she has coincidentally just found me again through Miracle Mumma after having her twins prematurely. Suddenly, all of our reservations disappeared - this was the confirmation we needed to share every step of our journey forward with you all…be prepared for a ‘hot mess’ overshare of everything from timed intercourse to vaginal mucous. As I always say…if our story reaches just one person who is going through something similar and is up at night googling for hope, it is all worth it.
An amazing friend of mine opened up and wrote down his emotional story after his wife experienced an ectopic pregnancy. He passed it onto me and (after some minor editing) I’m extremely proud to share it with you all now. We often forget to consider how men experience this heartbreaking journey, and generally they put their feelings aside and struggle to hold it together for their partner. Please remember: Dad’s grieve too. Let’s encourage men to speak out, or at least let them know it’s ok to fall apart.
When James was born, the ever-famous Dr Rad was doing his ever-amazing job by asking me about my plans regarding our next pregnancy. At the time, I snorted at him…literally – it got the same response as when I was asked about birth control while James was still in hospital! I mean c’mon mate, the only thing stimulating my nipples right now is an expressing kit! Anyway…I digress. So Dr Rad was keen to know sooner rather than later if James was going to be a big brother, and for good reason (which I can appreciate now). I eventually answered with apprehension that we had initially planned to have another baby down the track, but at this stage we simply felt blessed to have our one healthy miracle staring back at us from inside his humidicrib. I couldn’t even think about the possibility of another baby after the emotional turmoil we had endured. It had taken absolutely everything to finally get our little guy and he had changed my perspective on absolutely everything! I went from wanting and needing three babies, to being utterly content with just him. That previous greed seemed absolutely ridiculous. Of course, all Dr Rad took from that was ‘we had initially planned to have another baby down the track’ (bless his cotton, checkered socks!) – he referred me to a reputable maternal fetal medicine doctor for pre-pregnancy planning ‘just in case’.
We have been working on our nursery since we first started trying to get pregnant – this is over 2 years of visualizing and planning that has finally come to life. When I say ‘we’, you all know what I mean: Scott has been inundated with my constant crazy gushing over pinterest ‘ohhhh, how cute is thiiiiis?!’ without actually having any input. He’s lucky I even gave in and let him put his little Star Wars Itty Bitty on the shelf!
Her words exactly were ‘we need to go NOW’. I heard a ‘Code Zero’ being called on the overheard speakers – and it was for me. Within seconds I had about 10 people surrounding me asking me a million questions. Scott was thrown a pair of scrubs and I was being pushed out the door to theatre. I will NEVER forget this feeling. It was like I was in a movie. I had the anaesthetist running beside me telling me I needed to have a general anaesthetic. I kept saying ‘no, I’m having a spinal block, I need to be awake’ and his stern face saying ‘Amy, there’s no time’...
I was slightly taken aback when she asked me the golden question ‘how did you cope with being pregnant after your miscarriage?’ On the drive home I realised this wasn’t the first time I had been asked this question – it seems to be a common fear which is triggering overwhelming anxiety and even preventing women from being excited when they finally conceive their little miracle. I hope this blog will help those in a similar situation to ‘cope’ and maybe even allow a slither of excitement for the amazing adventure which lies ahead.
The day after I posted my last blog (reminder: negative pregnancy test, irregular cycle & full blown meltdown), I decided to take another test. I was nauseous and tired, and I just felt like something was up, but I had convinced myself I was imagining these symptoms (don't tell me you haven't done it before!) Sure enough, it was negative and I walked away feeling stupid for being a serial pee-on-a-stick offender. A couple of minutes later I walked past the test and saw two lines. The second one was super faint, but it was there. The first thing I did? I giggled! Like you do when you're tipsy & everything is hilarious. I'm putting that down to shock and disbelief...I couldn't believe it. In fact I didn't.
After my successful uterine septum resection surgery in November, I have had a period and we are currently in our first cycle of trying to conceive baby #2! I’m pretty sure I even ovulated all on my own like a big girl! We are obviously super excited but I’m going to be honest, I’ve had a few freak-out moments! Mostly, I’m worried that I won’t love my second child as much as I love James. I know this sounds silly, but after almost 2 years trying to conceive, a miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy and a scary premature birth, James is our little miracle who we thought we might never meet. I almost feel greedy for wanting to add another little babe to the mix.
My name is Amy. I’m 28 years old and grew up in the Adelaide Hills. I’m a Registered Nurse, and I love coffee – I think these two things go hand in hand! I’m also a wife to Scott, and a Mum to a healthy, happy 20-month-old boy named James. From the outside looking in, my life is pretty textbook, and pretty perfect. And it is! But there’s a reason people say, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ – because you might miss an amazing story. And this is mine…
Dr L had done his research and read our notes, so I didn’t have to repeat our story. He knew that we’d had a rough time and he understood that I felt ignored. We discussed the surgery and Dr L was honest…my (uterine) septum was thick, and it was challenging. One of the first things he asked me is ‘how far are you willing to go?’, but I had no idea that he meant literally....
On Monday, I finally had the diagnostic HSG (hysterosalpingogram) required to determine the success of my uterine septum resection surgery. In other words, they took some fancy pictures to check how much septum was remaining in my uterus after they had attempted to remove it. After getting into a gown and having the procedure explained, the radiographer left the room to organise her team. I sat butt-naked on the side of the cold bed feeling completely exposed thinking ‘it shouldn’t be this hard’. I was over it…the invasive procedures, the constant appointments, the poking and prodding, the clinical and sterile aspect to what was meant to be a natural part of life. I felt like an experiment. Sitting here writing this now, I can feel the same heaviness in my chest and the lump in my throat as when I was sitting in that cold, empty room fighting back the tears.
Yesterday I woke up before the sun to get ready for my hysteroscopy +/- laparoscopy to finally get some answers on my uterus. At this stage I wasn’t feeling nervous, I was even joking with Scott about how this might be the last time he saw me (dramatic much?) My Mum had taken James the night before, and mostly we missed waking up to him. So we stood in the bathroom watching videos of him giggling before Scott went to work. I packed a hospital bag but was adamant I would be breaking out that night. My heart would literally break into pieces if I didn’t see James all day, and then they’d have to do another operation to stick that back together. So yes, I was coming home that day.
Scott and I have recently been deliberating over whether we would once again share our journey to pregnancy (and beyond) through my blog. I knew I would be writing it all down like last time as a way of coping with my emotions and processing what we are going through (and to save Scott from my emotional outbursts every 5 minutes), but I was unsure if I would share it immediately considering the likelihood that something might go wrong. But last week I received a message from a Mum who has been following our journey since I shared my first ever blog about infertility. She said my posts were inspirational during their struggle to conceive, and she has coincidentally just found me again through Miracle Mumma after having her twins prematurely. Suddenly, all of our reservations disappeared - this was the confirmation we needed to share every step of our journey forward with you all…be prepared for a ‘hot mess’ overshare of everything from timed intercourse to vaginal mucous. As I always say…if our story reaches just one person who is going through something similar and is up at night googling for hope, it is all worth it.
An amazing friend of mine opened up and wrote down his emotional story after his wife experienced an ectopic pregnancy. He passed it onto me and (after some minor editing) I’m extremely proud to share it with you all now. We often forget to consider how men experience this heartbreaking journey, and generally they put their feelings aside and struggle to hold it together for their partner. Please remember: Dad’s grieve too. Let’s encourage men to speak out, or at least let them know it’s ok to fall apart.
When James was born, the ever-famous Dr Rad was doing his ever-amazing job by asking me about my plans regarding our next pregnancy. At the time, I snorted at him…literally – it got the same response as when I was asked about birth control while James was still in hospital! I mean c’mon mate, the only thing stimulating my nipples right now is an expressing kit! Anyway…I digress. So Dr Rad was keen to know sooner rather than later if James was going to be a big brother, and for good reason (which I can appreciate now). I eventually answered with apprehension that we had initially planned to have another baby down the track, but at this stage we simply felt blessed to have our one healthy miracle staring back at us from inside his humidicrib. I couldn’t even think about the possibility of another baby after the emotional turmoil we had endured. It had taken absolutely everything to finally get our little guy and he had changed my perspective on absolutely everything! I went from wanting and needing three babies, to being utterly content with just him. That previous greed seemed absolutely ridiculous. Of course, all Dr Rad took from that was ‘we had initially planned to have another baby down the track’ (bless his cotton, checkered socks!) – he referred me to a reputable maternal fetal medicine doctor for pre-pregnancy planning ‘just in case’.
We have been working on our nursery since we first started trying to get pregnant – this is over 2 years of visualizing and planning that has finally come to life. When I say ‘we’, you all know what I mean: Scott has been inundated with my constant crazy gushing over pinterest ‘ohhhh, how cute is thiiiiis?!’ without actually having any input. He’s lucky I even gave in and let him put his little Star Wars Itty Bitty on the shelf!
Her words exactly were ‘we need to go NOW’. I heard a ‘Code Zero’ being called on the overheard speakers – and it was for me. Within seconds I had about 10 people surrounding me asking me a million questions. Scott was thrown a pair of scrubs and I was being pushed out the door to theatre. I will NEVER forget this feeling. It was like I was in a movie. I had the anaesthetist running beside me telling me I needed to have a general anaesthetic. I kept saying ‘no, I’m having a spinal block, I need to be awake’ and his stern face saying ‘Amy, there’s no time’...
I was slightly taken aback when she asked me the golden question ‘how did you cope with being pregnant after your miscarriage?’ On the drive home I realised this wasn’t the first time I had been asked this question – it seems to be a common fear which is triggering overwhelming anxiety and even preventing women from being excited when they finally conceive their little miracle. I hope this blog will help those in a similar situation to ‘cope’ and maybe even allow a slither of excitement for the amazing adventure which lies ahead.
