Today would have been our 12 week scan, instead today is an infertility scan to find out if the abnormality in my womb has changed since the last scan.
How unfair does that feel.
If I hadn’t miscarried the first time I’d have a one year old, if I hadn’t miscarried the second time I’d have a six month old, if I hadn’t miscarried the third time I’d have a newborn and if I hadn’t miscarried the fourth time I’d be sat at my twelve week scan. Just think about that for a minute.
Every day is a reminder of what could have been had my body not failed us. Every day is another day of crippling sadness we have to bury to carry on. Every day is another day you hold onto the last threads of hope because you just don’t want to give up just yet. Every morning it is the first thing you think about and the last thing each night.
My sleep is broken, my body is drained and my mind is exhausted yet all I can do is carry on.
You watch other people’s children hit the milestones your babies would have been hitting and all you can do is smile to hide your sadness. I’d like to say it gets easier but I’m not sure it does. You sit and listen to people tell you how hard parenthood is, how tiring and how frustrating it is and all you can pray is that one day you will have the privilege of finding out. You go through life permanently exhausted from fighting for a dream you aren’t even sure is possible and all you can say when asked is ‘I’m fine’
The reality is I’m empty armed waiting for an appointment to help determine why I don’t have a single one my babies to show for this agonising journey... just think about that for a minute.
