Perhaps we'll raise an only child

As my daughter played with one of her little friends this morning, mocking giving a doll a bottle, I wondered if that will ever become a real-life scene in our household. My daughter's friend has a little sister, almost five months old, and she is often mentioned in reference to her friend. So babies are on the radar.

Our daughter may be an only child, who knows. But her life is full and happy, she is sociable and independent. During the school term she goes to playgroup, music, and swimming, has two playdates a week and has lots of visits to the local playgrounds and beach. She has strong bonds with one Nana and a couple of other adults as well as her parents. She also has two little friends that she adores. She has not suffered up to this point.

So I am reminded to let go of negative thoughts around raising an only child. Only doesn't have to equate to lonely. There are positives, obviously. With two parents on board that has meant undivided attention, and shared parenting. In the long-term if we raise just one child we would have more freedom in buying our first home, with holidays, our finances in general as well as me being able to work longer hours in the workforce sooner rather than later, in whatever form.

Seeing the above as a possible reality, and emphasising the good points, helps me in getting to a place of acceptance around whatever the size of our family turns out to be. I know several families consisting of one child that are doing just fine. If that's how we turn out, I'm sure we'll do just as great.

Here's to peace & serenity for the New Year

Just because 2007 didn't bring a baby into the mix, life outside of unsuccessful baby-making ought to be acknowledged. The year cannot be written off completely just because I never got pregnant. So as I say goodbye to 2007, it's important I keep things in perspective and note that life did carry on, even if my baby-dreams never came true. As the year comes to a close I really get that I have carried the burden of living with undiagnosed infertility all the way through. Yet there has been joy, lighter moments and personal accomplishments as well, not to mention the true honour of being my daughter's primary care-giver for another challenging and fulfilling year of motherhood.

In the sermon at church last weekend it was noted how people often wish for "such and such" on other peoples behalves in the New Year. But sometimes life doesn't go so smoothly, even with the best well-wishes, so then what? The point was made that we ought to wish people spiritual growth for the New Year, which will help equip them with whatever life brings - the good, the bad, and the ugly.

This translates to me as having peace and serenity with ones life as it is today. What an incredible gift that is! I have been there before and lived like that for a long time. That's where I'm aiming to head back to as that's where true happiness can be found. It comes from within, simple as that. Whenever we start the wishing game, our happiness is hinged on a particular outcome that may or may not go the way we would like. Better to not put those eggs all in one basket, I'd say.

I know a few people out there may have their fingers crossed for me that I might fall pregnant in 2008. Of course I hope that happens too. But I have no idea if it will or not. No gut feelings, or intuition around this one. I just need to believe there will be new gifts for me in the New Year, even if they are of the spiritual kind, undetectable to those around me. If you want to pray for me pray for my happiness, that I will embrace my life as it is today. I pray for the same for everyone else out there.

Underneath it all

For some weeks now I have pondered as to whether there might be more to "this" than wanting another baby. I am not going down play my desire by saying having another baby isn't that important to me, 'cos it is. But there are several other issues bubbling beneath the surface. I have thought for a little bit that I might need to get some counseling around it all and last night made a personal commitment to myself to do that in 2008.

I searched depression on the Net last night and found a great New Zealand web site that had some very useful resources on it. Because that is my truth; I have reached a place that is proving very hard to get out of and completing the on-line questionnaire confirmed that for me. I have had depressive episodes in the past, varying in their intensity and duration. I haven't moved on from this particular episode in a hurry and that concerns me. It is not fair on my wee family that I stay here without actively seeking help.

So last night I made three lists for 2008 - some daily goals to keep me sane, three month goals to hopefully help move me out of this hole, and several goals for 2008 to inspire me and keep me motivated. Interestingly the site above suggested doing something similar. It's something I've felt I've needed to do over the past few days so I must be in tune with what feels like my own partial insanity at this time.

At this point what lies beneath it all seems to be a complex mini-crisis, that is made up of several elements. There is obviously my human powerlessness over something I so very much want (another baby). Although that concept in itself rips my heart to pieces most days I am going through some kind of a spiritual makeover at the same time. I've been suggesting to my husband that we go to church more. It seems to be the only place I feel at peace - there is definitely something about those worship songs that do it for me.

I'm also having an identity versus motherhood crisis of sorts. With my daughter coming up to three and no baby in the wings; it's time to reclaim aspects of my life back as she becomes more independent. I can understand why Mums keep reproducing as for some of us (I won't assume all Mums feel this), there is a bit of grief that comes with your baby making the very clear transition to a child. They no longer need us with the same intensity. My daughter was clingy until she hit around two years old. Now at almost three she has evolved into quite the social butterfly. She is confident, out-going, and relishes new social experiences. I am so very proud of her yet in my heart feel the end of a very definite chapter as she enters her Kindy years in the upcoming year.

I'm sure many Mums go through this - what to do next. I haven't "worked" for around three months and this has affected my self-esteem somewhat. I had an evening job at the local paper from when my daughter was six months old til she was around two and a half. For two years it was great to be able to get out of the house a couple of nights a week and to do something outside of mothering. After a while, with another weekly commitment I have and also an evening course I did this year, family life started to suffer a bit as I was out four nights a week. Around that time a print-broker I met on my course approached me about doing some freelance graphic design work. I did that for a couple of months and it all came to a grinding halt a few months back. There may be more work for me in the New Year but for now I'm treating it as a casual thing and am going to look for weekend work. I clearly am someone who needs to work and socialise out of the house even if it just for a few hours a week.

Part of my identity crisis is linked in with turning 40 next year. I am questioning my career-path and have thought about changing direction. Forty suddenly seems so close to sixty and I want to once and for all utilise the talents that I think I have. Life suddenly does seem so short when you've almost clocked up forty years on the planet.

Around ten years ago I went through a similar process which meant letting go of two big things in my life - a relationship (an unhealthy one that I was much better off not being in) and a country (Canada - my visa ran out and it was time to move on). Surrendering these two loves of mine at the time exposed layers of myself I really didn't want to see. I was absolutely devastated yet recognised I could no longer dictate my life. I was forced to rediscover myself as I let go of things outside of myself. Without anything external to hide behind, I was stripped bare. My life completely changed as a result of handing my life over to the God of my understanding.

Now it feels as though I am once again being challenged to let go and let God all over again. I mean really let go. The last decade has of course had it's ups and downs, but my life has felt very rich as a consequence of trying to follow a spiritual path. This time round it seems I am being led to go to a deeper place with it all. There will be blue skies again for me. I have to believe that.

I see red!

With tongue in cheek, I posted on dailystrength that all I wanted for Christmas was my period. And my Christmas wish may have came true! It was light bleeding which may or may not be my period. The bleeding may just be connected to the cyst in which case ovulation may not follow. So I'm not sure what this means in the grand scheme of things. I was one week shy of a four month cycle before this bleed so I'm starting a fresh new page to chart what I hope is a fresh new cycle.

Exhausted

Well we're back home after four nights away in Ruby Bay at my Mum's, which is just twenty minutes drive from our place. My Mum actually lives in Wellington but comes down with her partner fairly regularly to Ruby Bay.

It was a quiet Christmas and Christmas lunch consisted of our little family - my husband, myself and our daughter, my Mum and her partner and a visitor from up the road. I tried so hard to be in a good place with it all and mainly Christmas was pleasant. As I sipped a glass of alcohol I did think of friend no. 1 who would be abstaining, being newly pregnant and all. I barely drink and would have gladly swapped a glass of champers to be in her shoes. Stop it, I told myself, don't go there... I overindulged in the Christmas fare like you do, eating way too much dessert and consequently felt bloated most of the day.

Part of my journey with secondary infertility has included eliminating a whole lot of vices from my diet. I did this after my miscarriage last Christmas, thinking my diet may or may not have contributed. So I took out caffeine, sugar and alcohol. I have stuck to herbal teas the whole time but do have the occasional alcoholic drink and sugary treat such as an icecream every now and then. This diet change resulted in me losing 7kg.

Over Christmas I probably had something sugary to eat every day. To be honest, I am what you'd describe an emotional eater so it is a little dangerous for me to go there, especially given my fragile state of late. I think that is what has been so hard about my struggle this year; I've done it without any vices and it has made it so raw and painful. However last night I did devour quite a considerable amount of chocolate, something I haven't done for so long. I found this relaxed me and (unlike me) I starting falling asleep in front of the television before 9pm! I had a decent sleep as a result and am going to make an effort to get in more early nights in the coming year as I know only too well that lack of sleep only exaggerates rocky emotions.

I am exhausted and sick of myself and my wobbly feelings. This afternoon when we got back I checked my email and there was one from friend no. 1 saying she struggled with morning sickness on Christmas Day. As I shared this with my husband he checked the expression on my face and opened his arms for a hug; obviously expecting me to start crying. I didn't, even though I felt the usual mix of envy and a stab of pain. (The tears came a little later, once again over the dishes with the worship songs playing.) I thought how sad, that that's what I've become, a walking time-bomb. So for 2008 I pledge to go to bed as early as possible most nights of the week as exhaustion may be something I can help myself with at this time.

All I want for Christmas

Aside from the obvious which obviously didn't happen, all I want this Christmas is inner peace.

I want to be happy again with my life as it exists today. To cherish the people in it and to find some new non baby-dreams from within. I want a new focus. I want to feel good as a woman again despite the fact my body has let me down. I want to see the cup as half full rather than half empty. I pray for my faith to strengthen. I want to have hope, and to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, one day another baby might be a possibility. At the same time I want to feel the blessings in my life regardless of whether my desires are fulfilled or not.

I pray for everyone out there also afflicted with infertility that they will find peace and joy in their hearts this Christmas.

Letting Go

Today I feel numb, but in a good way. There have been lots of tears lately, including some really big cries. I have been in a state of grief for a few months now which is kind of bizarre considering I haven't lost anything tangible.

What I realised yesterday is that I have obviously been holding on to this dream of having another baby way too tightly. I have made it my everything when it shouldn't be. As I cried into my husband's arms last night we had an emotional exchange about the whole ordeal. It shouldn't be forgotten that men feel pain too around broken dreams. Anyway, I realised last night there is nothing wrong with our little family as it is. For so long I was happy and felt complete with "just" the three of us (four if you include the cat!). I'm on my way back to that space again. I think perhaps I hit rock bottom around this yesterday. I'm not sure. All I know is something has shifted and I really do need to either pull the plug on this whole thing for my own sanity, or change my perspective. I'm going for the latter approach for now.

However I think I allowed myself to get the place I was dreading to go for a while - to face my reality that the chances of another biological baby for us are slim. I'm not being pessimistic, just realistic. To be honest it feels better to think like that rather than holding on with false hope. Yesterday I tore down the picture of me pregnant with my daughter that I had put up in our room in what was perhaps a crazy attempt at visualisation. I felt a great sense of relief come over me when I removed it, which confirms for me having it there only depressed me more on some level.

I feel in that numb state of grief that you do when you have shed a lot of tears and feel quite emotionally drained but at the same time have a sense that all is going to be fine. Somehow I've acknowledged that I'm going to be okay, whatever happens.

Thinking of throwing the towel in

I'm sick of all of this. It really is beginning to take a toll on my emotional, spiritual and physical well-being. Not only that, it is impacting strongly on my relationships around me, particularly with my husband and daughter.

I hate that I am in tears most days at this point. And if not in tears, I am either close to tears or have a cocktail of miserable feelings bubbling beneath the surface.

Maybe it would be easier to accept that it's just not meant to be - another biological child in our family. It feels like too much energy is going into something that may not even happen.

The fact is I am not ovulating and until that resumes, I am at a standstill.

I always thought I'd have two kids. Two little girls, actually. But at this point I would be just as happy with a boy!

But life of course doesn't always unfold as we might like it to. This wouldn't be the first dream I've had to let go of. And I've gotten over other disappointments in life; I'm sure I would in time over this as well.

The funny thing is throughout this harrowing process, I seem to be accepting my powerlessness in life on a deep level. I'm not religious yet I have been playing worship songs at night lately while doing the dishes. It seems to give me the space to cry and just to feel the connection with the God of my understanding. I feel as though I am in a constant grieving process where I move through the classic 7 stages of grief: shock/disbelief, denial, anger, bargaining, guilt, depression, acceptance and hope. Right now I feel I want to get off the infertility merry-go-round and reclaim my life back. Life is after all, about more than raising a family. I need to be reminded of that constantly when looking at the world with tunnel-vision through my wannabe Mum's distorted eyes.

I feel I have lost some aspects of me over the last year or so and I don't like the desperate woman I have become. When we tried for our first child we had no idea about our fertility and really let go of the outcome saying it could take even two years to try and if it didn't work out, we'd consider adoption. This time round I started the process with anxiousness, with the expectation that things would take a while and that it might not happen. I am haunted by my obstetrician's warning at my daughters delivery that I might enter menopause early. Seems like she was possibly right and so in many ways I am fighting what seems like a hopeless situation. Today I just want to give up the fight as I'm not sure it's worth it.

Worried

It's both a blessing and a curse having access to information about anything and everything 24/7 on the internet. I have been doing some "research" about ovarian cysts which has simultaneously comforted, confused, worried and reassured me - if that's possible!

I am concerned, as according to my symptoms - especially the swelling of the abdominals and spotting of late, it does indicate something's not right. I know because of my history (my ovary being removed when my daughter was delivered via emergency c-section), I am quite nervous about undetected or undiagnosed medical problems. I had severe pain for three weeks before my daughters birth that had medical staff stumped here in Nelson. Even though I was vomiting green bile, and I had an ultrasound scan - the problem was never picked up. And no-one knows exactly how things came to be - did the cyst in there cause torsion of my ovary? And did the weight of my daughter in late pregnancy have an impact? It remains a mystery and was put down to "bad luck".

Even though my Dr said we could still try for a baby with the cyst in there, I don't feel comfortable about that at all at this point. I've read that ruptures can happen and I really don't want to aggravate the cyst. I'm not ovulating anyway right now. If my cycles were regular and I didn't have the swollen abs, perhaps I wouldn't be worried about the cyst. I always had a gut feeling that the pain wasn't connected with my pregnancy last time despite "theories" from medical staff. And I really do think there is a connection between the cyst and my lack of periods right now and hope that this is confirmed asap.

It's recommended I seek help if vomiting and/or severe abdominal pain occurs which worries me as obviously that's when it's considered a medical emergency and by then the worst case scenario may have happened. (basically a repeat of the above).

Once again I have to just trust that things are unfolding as they are meant to - even if it is a worrisome and slow painful process.

Another Mum hits the jackpot

I don't want to be all bitter and twisted everytime I hear about another's pregnancy; but at this stage in the game that is my reaction.

Tonight my husband told me one of his friends was pregnant with her third child. As I tried to choke back the tears he asked if I'd like to add anything to an email he was sending to her. I declined. I mean really, what was I to write: "You lucky cow, I wish it was me!!" ?? And that's one of the polite versions I had in mind. She's a lovely woman and I feel awful having such thoughts. They aren't personal - envy over another woman's pregnancy can crop up at any time, around any given woman. Just a sight of a bump can set me off sometimes.

It's not a nice place to be, gripped in the throes of my own fears of the future (yes, I'm back there again) while others families seemingly expand so easily.

Late this morning as my daughter drifted off to sleep on her nap, I watched her long fingers stretched out in her almost-three-year-old hand and I wondered if I might get to know a newborns hands all over again. I should be so lucky. Tonight we watched part of a DVD my husband put together of our daughter's first year of life (as she loves watching footage of herself). I could feel the heart-strings pulling and the feeling still sits with me, as it did right from the start, that she could be our only child. I have been so lucky to be an at-home Mum for almost three years and have truly cherished watching her grow. I have no regrets, I can honestly say that. And although not flawless, I am a Mum who doesn't want another child to correct past parenting mistakes and regrets. It's not about that at all.

Tonight I cried to my husband, perhaps it's not meant to be. I don't want to accept that as my reality today and so what choice do I have but to hang in there.

In a way it would be easier to have a conclusive result, even if it meant we couldn't have any more biological children. At least there would be somewhere to go from there. I don't know how this story is going to end, yet I have to believe it's going to be the right outcome for us, whatever it is.

Lost in space

Well I went to the new Dr's this morning. As I walked down the road I realised I did have some expectations about the visit. In my head it went something like this: Meet new Dr who instantly would realise how important it was to address the issue of my new-found cyst, next I'd get an urgent referral to the obstetrician and then the cyst would be removed, my periods would return to "normal", I'd start ovulating and then and I'd be back on track for baby-making.

How silly of me to think things would be so simple!

Turns out my Dr had neither my notes from my previous medical centre or the radiologist and so the entire consultation was based on my verbal interpretation of things so far. I wasn't so happy about that. I'd been informed that all notes would have made it to my medical centre by the time I made the appointment for today but given Christmas is around the corner and such a thing as "Nelson time" exists in this town; it probably isn't that surprising that they weren't there.

My new Dr is lovely - don't get me wrong. She is both approachable and warm - qualities my former Dr didn't have. However I continually seem to fall into the trap with Dr's in thinking that they will somehow magically fix things but more often than not, I leave with with a huge amount of disappointment with often unresolved issues with my tail between my legs.

The Dr recommended I make an appointment to see my obstetrician asap which I have done. Only thing is I can't get in until Jan 16 as he is away (of course) for a few weeks. She also empathised I better get on with things - particularly Clomid "given my age. I get that. However I can't take Clomid until I actually have another period and so I am in a holding pattern there.

So once again I feel as though I am lost in space a bit. There is such a gap between appointments - to the doctor, to the radiologist, to the doctor and then to the obstetrician - it takes months to even work out what the "problem" is. And after all this I may possibly just end up back where I was, except with the knowledge that there is a cyst in there.

My new Dr reckons because the cyst is only 5cm, the obstetrician may wait to see if it shrinks before doing anything. She seemed to think it wasn't harmful to try for a baby with the cyst in there and thought me getting pregnant was the priority rather than treating the cyst. Although she did think possibly there was a connection between my (almost) four month cycle of late, bloated stomach, dull pelvic pain, and other symptoms; she also thought irregular cycles may be occurring regardless of the cyst and therefore that finding a cyst wasn't the answer to all my woes as I thought it might have been. Given that her opinion was based on my word only; hopefully once the ultrasound scan notes are viewed by the obstetrician, I may get a different opinion.

Who knows. I have a month to wait for my next medical appointment and that's all I can do - wait. Give me strength!!

Hope

After yesterdays findings, I do feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Finding a cyst doesn't mean things are resolved, but I somehow feel back in the loop medically and I feel heaps better about that.

When I sighted babies today when out and about, I didn't feel the pain spilling out that is sometimes there. It was just simply lovely to see them. It is much more pleasant to be in a space of hope and love than one of fear and resentment.

I'm learning that secondary infertility encompasses a range of feelings and so there are no guarantees as to how I might feel on any given day. Even within a day there can be real ups and downs. Yet today it was nice just to enjoy my day; to visit with good friends and to do a few errands in town with my daughter.

I am gaining the support I was craving through dailystrength.org. I have met a few women there within the secondary infertility community which is just great. I thought it might not be good focusing on the problem as such, but actually having the freedom to really speak my mind is somehow releasing me from feeling trapped in my situation. Also, hearing about others stories who are going through similar stuff gives me inspiration, strength, and hope.

I pray to be happy as much as possible within this journey and to keep the faith that nothing happens in Gods world by mistake.

A new chapter on the health front

I feel quite relieved after going for a pelvic ultrasound scan today. It turns out I have a cyst on my left (well, my only) ovary. It's 5cm and the radiologist thought my Dr will probably refer me to an obstetrician where it will be investigated further. I felt positively elated when I heard the news. The radiologist commented I was "too young to be in menopause" (I've heard that a lot over the last year) and I'll take that for now - a cyst over menopause! Apparently my lack of periods for over three and a half months and my bloated abdominals are symptoms of a cyst - which I'd heard and hence why I went in for the scan in the first place.

Today I also got accepted as a new patient at our local medical centre. A friend had recommended a particular female doctor who is on the mark with women's issues. And so I'm looking forward to my first appointment with the new Dr on Friday.

I feel like things are moving somewhere. For the last few months I have been in limbo land, not knowing what the hell has been going on. I appreciate this is going to take a while to sort out. No doubt I won't get an appointment with the obstetrician until next year, then the cyst will have to be sorted out before I can even consider starting Clomid. I can't get too far ahead of myself and so will just take it one step at a time.

But today I actually have faith that things just might turn out okay. I read an article in a magazine today in the radiology waiting room about a woman who conceived after 26 IVF treatments! She then went on to conceive her 2nd child naturally within months. Stories like this plant seeds of hope in my unsure mind.

The female reproductive system is one minefield and I get the feeling science has only tapped the tip of the iceberg. All of us mum-wannabes can do is wait and trust the processes we are going through will eventually give us the babe in arms we are all pining for.

My new club

I have essentially entered a new club that I'm not sure I want to be part of.

Today I took my daughter to the beach and she ended up playing with a four and a half year old boy. I chatted away with the boy's Mum while our kids threw muddy sand at each other in the waves.

Then, "Is this your only one?"
"Yes. You, your only one?"
"Yes. Do you want another one?"
"Yes. One day. I hope so."
"Same here. Hopefully one day..."
And we smiled knowingly. Two Mums on the beach on a windy afternoon who for a moment knew exactly what heart-ache the other one had been through without uttering a word.

A couple of weeks ago, I was chatting with the manager of a local baby store. She said she'd been to the Christmas Parade a week before.
"With your kids?" I stupidly said.
Silence. Seconds passed and the look on her face said it all.
"Um, no. I, hopefully one day...well, there are so many kids out there that need homes in the world, we might adopt..."
I don't even know what my response was. I really had wished I could take it all back. Silly me, I had seen a woman probably in her early thirties working in a baby shop who had been to a Christmas Parade and I assumed she was a Mum. Obviously she had no idea that the Mum standing in front of her with her preschooler was battling similar issues. I should have known better.

There are a few of us out there but the thing is, infertility is so taboo, that it is so easy to think we're the only ones going through it. That ought to change. It isn't something women should be ashamed about. Holding our hurt inwards only makes things worse. I hope as part of my journey with all this I can inspire more openness from those afflicted with infertility and more compassion and understanding out there from those on the outside.

A year since my miscarriage

I've realised lately that my tears of late haven't just been about friend no.1's pregnancy news and all that has brought up for me. It's also been because next week is the first anniversary of my miscarriage.

This time a year ago I was pregnant and elated. Foolishly perhaps, I worked out the due date just days into my pregnancy - Aug 23, which happens to be three days before my own birthday. I thought it was a happy coincidence. We were about to go on holiday and I couldn't wait to tell the close friends and family we were about to visit the news.

Days later it was all over. I miscarried at six weeks.

At the time because we were going away the next day, I didn't really process what had happened. I shared the initial shock with my husband, but neither of us knew how to process it. I used other people's reactions to gauge how "big" this was. I only told a handful of people. Most didn't really comment, and I took this to mean it wasn't a big deal. In hindsight it was because I disclosed my news mainly to people who had never experienced a miscarriage. The ones who'd experienced a miscarriage had fallen pregnant again quite fast and took this as a sign that this would happen for me too, which it hasn't.

I've realised lately I am drawn to babies who are around four months old. I have clicked that had my pregnancy lasted, that is how old our baby would be today. I don't purposely dwell on how-old-our-baby-would-be-had-it-made it, it is more of an unconscious awareness.

I watched a baby around that age at church today. It was only for a few minutes and it was delicious. He smiled and cuddled into me and it felt so natural. I'm no baby-snatcher; but I didn't want to hand him back to his Mum. I wanted the cuddles to last just a little bit longer.

I went to church as although I'm not an avid church-goer, I felt I needed to go. Sure enough the songs of worship bought tears to my eyes. I just needed to see the bigger picture, and to step outside of my infertility hell.

This weekend I have been talking about the future with my husband - about other dreams outside of baby-making. Of course when the attention shifts off one area; life starts to feel not so stagnant anymore. Life goes on. It has to. Just because one dream may not work out, it doesn't mean all the others should be forgotten.

There are women out there who identify!

Desperate to connect with women going through this; I signed up with a couple of forums last night. I never thought I'd become one of "those" people as something about it does seem quite lonely and desperate. But the truth is I am both lonely and desperate at this point. From experience, I know that support groups are very effective. I figure cyber support groups do have their place. However admittedly I stayed up way too late last night setting myself up. I am going to have to put some personal boundaries into place so that I don't abuse this new-found support.

Although I am relieved to find there are women out there who identify with me because they are going through similar things; I feel sad that the three women I describe as my closest friends in the world cannot share this journey with me on a deep level. The reason why is we are all in very different places: Friend no.1 is newly pregnant, friend no. 2 is experiencing primary infertility, and friend no.3 is getting married next year and won't be trying for kids for a little while. I have had parallels with all three women around all sorts of things over the years but right now secondary infertility has somehow distanced me from all of them. I try to share as openly and honestly as possible with all three women, but it is a case of empathy only really being possible from those in the same boat. Although friend no.2 and I are going through many of the same processes, we cannot completely connect because of the fact I am a Mum already and I feel guilty about sharing my pain with her.

I cried first thing in the morning in the shower yesterday after getting friend no. 1's pregnancy news and last thing at night. It seems to have brought up a new layer of grief.

I'm continuing to read The Secret even though it is a hard read this time round. I'm having to accept that I have some pretty awful thoughts going on in my head around this and that is hard to see. I really want to be positive, optimistic and hopeful yet at the same time need to feel my feelings.

It's a beautiful Summer's morning - the sun is shining through our kitchen window, reflecting on to a gorgeous bunch of flowers our neighbour picked from her garden a couple of days ago. Moments like this remind me that my Higher Power loves me and does have a wonderful plan for me with all this. It is just going to happen in his way and in his time.

Today I fired my herbalist

Around April this year I signed up with a local herbalist. I'd hoped all the pills and potions might somehow move mountains for me fertility-wise. But they didn't. And so I phoned her up today and cancelled my appointment for next week. She understood my reasons why - partly financial (it ain't cheap going the herbal way) and partly from a logical perspective; the herbs just aren't cutting it.

My herbalist was great and acknowledged that medical attention is obviously needed. I have my ultra-sound on Tuesday which will be interesting. Whether anything is revealed as a result of that; I've no idea. After that I want to start the search for a new doctor who is clued up on fertility/womens issue. At the moment I feel like I'm having to guess what I should do next at each stage without much medical guidance and it's downright scarey. My current Dr just doesn't seem to "get" what I'm trying to achieve, neither does she provide the support I feel I really need. Obviously I'm not going to fall pregnant over night and I really do need the medical support over time as things are worked out. (hopefully).

I mentioned to my herbalist that I'd like to start a support group and she thought that was a great idea. She treats many infertile women and agreed there wasn't anywhere to go for emotional support here in Nelson and there are undoubtedly a few candidates around. I have a venue in mind so will check in with them next week to see if they'll support the idea. Personally I'm sick of feeling alone and somewhat isolated with this undesirable condition. I haven't yet met anyone on the Net going through this even though I've visited several blogs focused on the same thing. To meet other women in real life going through similar stuff would help me considerably, I believe.

Hard news to hear

One of the people I care about most on the planet has just told me via email that she is pregnant with her second child. It's early days, but she obviously got a positive on her pregnancy test. She cares about me greatly too and has anticipated that I may be affected by this news. Damn right and I hate my reaction.

On one hand I am happy for her. She's a great Mum and a top person. She really deserves to have a dream come true, that being a mother to two biological children. It happened within months for her so was clearly meant to be.

Yet my own pain has come up and slapped me in the face. Why can't it be me? I knew she'd fall pregnant easily. Mind you, she has "normal" cycles whereas I have erratic cycles so the odds were in her favour.

What I hate about this secondary infertility deal is how it eats away at your confidence. I guess because something is obviously wrong with me physically, it is easy for the thoughts of failure at being able to conceive to cross over into other areas of my life.

I do feel not good-enough. I feel the God of my understanding must not believe in me as a Mum 'cos if he did, another pregnancy would have happened by now. And then if I apply the law of attraction to this (which is damn hard when wrapped up in my own pain), it is clear that I don't think I perhaps deserve another pregnancy and I don't know why. I know I'm a good Mum too (mostly) so it's about something deeper that I haven't discovered yet.

I have another close friend who is in the throes of primary infertility who has chosen not to look at this blog for now. I understand why but it is painful losing friends, even if temporarily, to infertility. Instead of uniting us, our differing degrees of infertility have put a huge unspoken void between us.

Another friend several years ago, also cursed with primary infertility, burst into tears when a mutual friend's baby arrived. I so get that reaction now. Somehow it is more painful when good friends get the very thing we desire in life, especially when it may look as though it's not going to happen for us.

At this point I'm not up to a congratulatory phone-call for the friend who is newly pregnant. And so it has began already in our friendship - I am emotionally recoiling from her. I may not be able to be there for her completely in this exciting new chapter in her life and that sucks.

I want to cry and kick and scream right now. I am like a toddler who is angry that things aren't going her way. I hate the powerlessness and the up and down-ness of it all. Yesterday I felt positive; today hopeless. Yesterday I thought if I focused on some other things in life, perhaps this unbearable pain would shift to the background. And it did for a few hours. I just have to accept that as long as I chose to try for another baby (even if I can't physically do so because of lack of ovulation right now), I am probably going to be subjected to many more women falling pregnant around me and this will result in more unleashed and mixed feelings coming up.

Today I pray to feel love for my newly pregnant friend rather than the resentment that is threatening to eat me up.

The Power of Positive Thinking

I started reading The Secret again last night. Mainly because I am in-between books and it is an easy read. Also I know I have been in a state of negative thinking around my fertility for the last couple of months. Whenever I have one of my long cycles; I panic that my periods may have stopped forever.

I'm still skeptical as to whether I can effectively alter my undiagnosed hormonal imbalance, as I'm pretty sure it is a medical problem. However, I have always believed in the mind-body connection so if there is a small chance that the law of attraction can assist with fertility, then I'm in!

When I first read The Secret earlier this year I was temporarily uplifted. It was a relief to let go of my fears around my fertility for a while. I actually had two "normal" 28 dayish cycles too and one in which I was clearly ovulating. Then along came this three month plus cycle and I lost the faith.

So today I feel optimistic. Today I feel it is possible for me to conceive again. I just have to let go of the logistics as to how it might happen and just trust that it will.

Back from holiday

Turns out going away for a week was a good thing. It was refreshing to have a change of scene and to just be in holiday-mode. Although I didn't really over-indulge, I allowed myself a few drinks and desserts over the course of the week. I have been quite strict on myself over the last few months diet-wise and to tell you the truth; that gets a bit boring! Sometimes I do wonder if I've gone too far denying myself the fun stuff. But then at the same time, I not only lost weight from removing sugar from my daily diet, I also have felt physically the best I've felt for a long time. I do have the odd drink or dessert - but very infrequently. During a year of emotional high and lows, I think it's probably a good thing.

I did a spot of shopping and just enjoyed traveling around the top of the North Island and just zoning out in the car. Going to new places and having a different routine is certainly good for the soul.

But when I came back home it all came flooding back - this "thing" I have hovering over me. It didn't have to be be part of my life for a week - my infertility stuff. But on my home turf, suddenly the fact I haven't had a period for over three months has become important again. I am simply not ovulating right now and the fact I can't control that is hard to accept sometimes.

However I learnt a thing or too on our trip from the people we caught up with along the way. I have some amazing friends who are truly inspiring, living pretty fabulous lives. And so for 2008 I want to reclaim some of my Lynda dreams as I have recognised over the past year I have had several areas of my life on hold, just in case I might fall pregnant. I'm going to put some things in place for the next year that will make it fun, that allow me to indulge in my creative side even more and will give me some attainable goals. I guess I realise I need some direction in my life personally as my daughter enters Kindy next year and my time gradually becomes mine again. I kind of knew all this already but a trip away has certainly affirmed it for me.

Thinking happy thoughts

Today I have let go of all this fertility stuff. Perhaps having a trip to look forward to starting tomorrow has something to do with it. We're (as in myself, hubby and our daughter) are off for a week to the top of the North Island. Mainly for a family wedding but we're going to see extended family and friends along the way.

It's going to be great having a change of scene. We haven't left Nelson as a family for a year, so it will be good for all of us. It has been a hard year in some ways; my fertility issues being the central reason why. Although there has been joy and many positive experiences, I hadn't acknowledged that this year had been personally challenging until someone else recently described 2007 as been a rough year.

I'm not taking any pills or potions on our trip, or graphs for charting or my thermometer! It feels good to literally leave all that stuff behind.

Why this blog?

Secondary infertility is described as being unable to conceive after giving birth to at least one baby after trying to conceive for a year. I'm around fifteen months into my journey. (See My back story for details). It has been a continuous emotional roller coaster - one of disappointment, frustration, fear, despair, depression, grief and hope.

To some it might seem a bit like doom and gloom focusing on something seemingly "negative" such as secondary infertility. But it's my reality for now and writing is my way to purge. Already after just a couple of days of launching this blog, I feel a little better. Like somehow this isn't my dirty little secret anymore. That behind closed doors (and even out there in the big wide world), I do suffer some days.

The truth is it hurts having my fertility floating out there in the unknown. I suspect I will carry this maternal ache around with me until things are resolved - either through another pregnancy, adding a child to our family through another means or simply by acknowledging one day that perhaps we are just meant to be a family of three. At the same time, I am trying to be as optimistic, grateful, joyful and as present as I can be with my life as it is today. I'm hoping by revealing my pain and struggles, that my energy will not be consumed so much by all of this.

There are many women who cannot have children for a multitude of reasons. But I can only speak from my own experience. My struggle isn't any better or worse than any other woman's; it is just my struggle and it is the only one I know.

I have friends who have been unable to conceive at all and I am grateful to each and every one of them for their honesty during such a difficult time. There is a part of me that feels terrible guilt and like a bit of a shit for bitching and moaning about only having one child. For this reason I recognise that my issue is different to theirs. There will always be that underlying feeling from me or them that "you have one child already, so what's your problem?" Just like I cannot fully comprehend their angst; they cannot truly understand mine. Although our pain is similar in some ways it is also very different.

I know Mums with one child who are unable to have another because of circumstances - particularly through separation or divorce. For those who desire more children this is understandably upsetting. I also have friends in their late thirties/early forties who have either settled with a partner later in life or haven't settled at all. Once again circumstance has dictated that motherhood may not happen for them. I feel for all these women but do recognise that not having a choice to have a child is quite different to trying to have one without success.

Sometimes it feels as though others are pointing out that I don't get how lucky I am to actually be a mother when I reveal my frustration with my current state of affairs. But I am aware of what a huge gift my daughter is. I have never taken her or motherhood for granted. That's the trouble - the intoxicating love for my daughter only fuels my fire even more for a second child.

I'm pretty sure there are women out there who can identify with me. I personally only know of one other woman within my Mum networks experiencing secondary infertility. Most Mums have popped their second babies out and some even their third or fourths! On the internet there are several blogs and web sites on the subject. However often personal blogs aren't maintained, forums are out-of-date and web sites offer a description only. I have made a personal commitment to post regularly on this blog, through-out my journey.

I hope I can offer a form of support and comfort to those in the same boat. That is why I have started this blog.