Dear future baby,
Where do I even begin? This journey is and has been a completely mad one. It has broken me, it has tested the relationship between your daddy and I, the people around us. It’s caused so many tears all day long. It’s caused anger and I am ashamed to say, jealousy. Why me, why us. Why not anyone else around us. But indeed why not us? We have been so lucky I now realise in many other ways so perhaps this was inevitable, written in the stars.
There have been so many lows. I didn’t cry when your daddy told me he might not be able help create you because of what the doctor said. I didn’t cry when I found out we categorically needed fertility treatment to get pregnant. I didn’t cry battling the GP to get our referral. I felt strong then. We could do this.
I did cry however when we lost your ‘strongest sibling’ via miscarriage when we started treatment. While I was worried about the pregnancy not progressing, in reality I was only mentally prepared for it working or not . Not for it to work and it to be taken away not long after. I’ve never cried so much.
I cried again when your second sibling didn’t implant at all. What on Earth was wrong? Why did they not even try to implant? The second test I did before going to work and knowing our NHS funding has finished I rang a doctor who we could pay to help us. He was so very kind. We did the third transfer with him and I felt hopeful – surely we would be lucky. But we weren’t. We had to celebrate your grandma’s birthday, aunty’s 21st birthday and daddy’s parents’ 40th anniversary party over that round and I cried that whole month, anticipating grief. We stayed in a hotel for the last party so we could test alone and I’ll never forget sinking into a cheap hotel bath tub with my face in my hands as your daddy sadly went back to sleep.
We tried to go again. And again. Injections, medicines. Then no injections or medicines. But my body wasn’t ready. It was so angry and raw. Like me.
Finally we were able to transfer – two of your siblings this time! I had done a few different things and we were so hopeful. And we were pregnant again, so scared but happy. But we lost them again and I cried and cried and cried. The doctor was so kind to us. He recommended some tests and a break, both of which we did. This was probably the worst time of all. Your beloved aunty was also very ill which is something she and the rest of us have been battling for her over the past 5 years and I felt at rock bottom.
When it came to our fifth transfer, I didn’t make much of an effort to dress nicely for your arrival . It was hard to be hopeful. Yet on the day the doctor told us that you and your sibling had defrosted completely and were developed really well . Even though we had this news before and it hadn’t worked I allowed myself to be hopeful for a little while.
However, while waiting to see if you had stuck I couldn’t stop crying whenever I had a free moment. A shaky 3am wee confirmed you had. Sadly your little twin only hung around for another month and we felt sad . How would you make it if they couldn’t ? However, slowly but surely you have grown and grown. Surprising and delighting us by addressing our fears and tears along the way.
As we finally come towards touching distance of your arrival next month, we have cautiously started buying things for you. So many people have given us presents for you already. While I still feel scared we will lose you too like the others, we remain very hopeful that we will get to bring you home safe and into our lives, having made it this far. You are already a fighter!
It’s so hard to believe that during most of the hard times last year and this year, you’ve been sat patiently in the freezer waiting for us. You have other siblings still there too. But for now, if we get to have you alive and well, we will be the luckiest people.
The last thing I will say is that you will also experience hard times in your life, our love can’t protect you from that. But it’ll make you a stronger and better person. You’ll make amazing friends. You’ll be wanting them to be able to get through too hard times too, just like you have. Don’t give up. We did not give up on you.