It feels like forever since I sat down to write a new post here. I’ve just about kept things ticking over with a couple of Little Loves posts and I am loving being able to at last join in with The Siblings Project but other than that my little blog has been pretty neglected. As we begin to come out of that newborn haze of the first few weeks and find our feet as a family of four I find myself thinking about the past few years and the long road we have travelled to get here.
For so long it felt that life was on hold. Whilst we tried (and tried) for our second child the pause button was definitely on. There were holidays we didn’t go on, jobs I didn’t apply for because we were waiting for me to get pregnant. We started trying for baby two when O turned one in November 2012, so for three years my life has been taken over by the desire for a child.
In the first year of trying we were full of hope and excitement at giving our son a sibling but as the year progressed the excitement turned to frustration as to why things weren’t happening. The second year saw us turning to the doctors for help and what came next was months of fertility drugs and hospital appointments and checking ovulation dates. And the third year saw us embark on our failed IVF attempt and more hospital appointments, waiting and disappointment.
All of this took over our lives and even when I was trying desperately not to think about it, it was always there in the back of my mind. It doesn’t help that in every corner of the house was a reminder of what we didn’t have. I kept everything from when we had O, ready to be used with baby two. As it started to looked like this may never happen a part of me still couldn’t bear to part with them. The maternity clothes were still boxed up in the attic waiting to be worn again, the pram sat in the garage, and we probably had more baby clothes than our local Next.
It was the most difficult three years of my life. Having O, and the support of my husband, are the two things that got me through. On those days when I wanted to wallow in self-pity I had no choice but to get on with it as I had a little boy that needed me, and we have had a wonderful time together. I will always be grateful for that time when it was just us.
And now G is here. After waiting and wanting him for so long he is here and makes our family complete. This time round the maternity clothes are not being boxed up for the attic, they are going to the charity shop. The spare ovulation sticks are no longer required, and the tiny baby grows he has recently grown out of will be passed on and not stored for future use.
A part of me is sad that they will no longer be needed, but after spending so much time focusing on having a baby it is also oddly liberating. Would I like another child? Yes, I really would but I wouldn’t ever want to put my family (or myself) through the trying for one again and I still feel so lucky to have my two gorgeous boys. If by some miracle we did find out I was pregnant I would be delighted but we will never be in the position of trying to conceive again, and I feel relieved by that.
For so long I feel my life has been about trying for a baby, defined as the girl who couldn’t get pregnant, and somewhere along the way I’ve lost a little piece of me. I put my career on hold as my focus wasn’t on work. My weight has gone up and down, a combination of a fertility drugs and comfort eating. My relationship with my husband was focused on making a baby, and a lot of the romance was lost. People I considered close friends began to distance themselves as they were unsure what to say to me, that hurt.
Now that G is here I no longer have that feeling that something is missing, I feel complete and excited to be a mummy to two beautiful boys. I feel more confident than I have in years (despite the stone of baby weight I need to shift), and I can feel the old me starting to come back. No more putting things off, no more worrying about what the future may bring, I’m ready to embrace it.
Time to press play.