a step in the right direction?

I went to see my GP today. I had it all planned out in my head, every word I would say.  A very rational decision: miscarriage past me, no man in my life any more, little time left (with my 40th birthday coming up), could I please have a donor child?

When I sat in the chair facing the GP I burst into tears.  Suddenly it became obvious that I would not have a family with a loving husband, that I was very far away of being over losing my baby and that I really was darn alone. I was not brave anymore. She let me cry for a while and then patiently listened to me. And she was very, very supportive. I am sure she has seen it all before but I was so relieved that she wasn’t judgemental. She just accepted this as my decision and will refer me to the Oxford Fertility Unit. It will not be under NHS because I am not in a relationship and have no fertility problems! Now that’s funny. If my husband had bad sperm the NHS would fund the treatment, if I had problems conceiving the NHS would fund an IVF cycle.  Not having a man in my life is obviously my own problem. I am not really worried about the costs but for anyone on a low income this would be a problem as all the treatments are really expensive. Is it fair that I have the privilege to try for a baby this way while other women might not because they don’t earn enough money?

We will have to do a few tests first, starting with measuring my hormone levels as soon as my period starts again. And getting tested for HIV and hepatitis. Oh well, a clean bill of health won’t hurt. I only hope my period will start soon.

planting a tree

How do you get over losing the baby you were hoping to have for such a long time? It’s devastating. Maybe because there is nothing you can do. Your body does and you watch. It makes me feel like I can’t do the most basic thing in life: having children. Nothing anyone says seems to make a difference. All of a sudden you hear all these stories of women with miscarriages. Stories you never heard before because nobody likes to speak about it. If I had know all this before (including the fact that 1 in 4 pregnancy end in miscarriage) I could have prepared myself better for the loss. Why is it such a stigma? And why all this fear of not telling anyone you are pregnant until you are 12 weeks? All you do is to deprive yourself of the shared joy about your pregnancy and the shared grief when something goes wrong. Believe me, even if I find it hard to be consoled at the moment by hearing about other women’s miscarriages, at least I don’t feel I am alone in this misery. I can’t thank my friends and my sister enough for their support which I really, really need now.

I planted a tree in memory of the baby. It’s a paper bark maple, a small tree with beautiful red leaves in October.