The other night I was lying on the couch watching telly when I had an overwhelming urge to tell Kirby that I wanted to try IVF again. It was completely out of the blue – and it felt desperate, like if we didn’t try again I couldn’t move forward in anything.
I pictured my abdomen getting larger over time, our baby when we first met it, watching the baby grow, take its first steps, speak its first words. Everything would be perfect. And, of course, the IVF cycle would work.
I sat with the feeling for a while – enjoying the possibilities of a child in our lives. I thought about Hugo having a cousin here in Australia (he doesn’t have any and we are his only option for having one – all of his cousins are in Africa). They could pretty much grow up together as they would only be about two years apart.
The feelings I was having – the desperation, the longing – soon began to fade a little, and reality drove its way straight into the lounge room. I had a bit of a cry and a hug from Kirby as I realised that it wasn’t going to happen. For many reasons it wasn’t going to happen – some of these being the cost of IVF now, the impact on my health of doing another round, and that time spent with our child would be time spent away from Hugo. This is aside from the fact that the chances of another cycle being successful were extremely low.
I guess I’m realising that the grief and longing never truly go away. That inner need to have a child will probably be there until I die. I will always wonder about it – about what could have been. But, then, isn’t that true of many things in life, both good and bad. I wonder whether we would have bought our house at all if we’d realised we weren’t going to have children, I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d studied environmental science, I wonder where I would be now if I hadn’t met Kirby.
I guess it’s the mind’s way of showing us what could have been, so we can see what is, and in a way the feelings and grief about not having children do make me see, eventually, what we do have. We have Hugo. I’m guessing by now you’re realising just how important he is to me and how much I love that little guy. I wouldn’t swap him for the world.
Welcome
We always thought we would have kids. We started trying when we believed we were ready. A month went by, then two months, six months, a year. Nothing happened.
Something was wrong, but nobody could tell us what - and they still can't to this day. We tried IVF three times but our results were not good. We were devastated.
Eighteen months after our last IVF cycle, we knew we would not be having our own children. And, somehow, we have moved to a life that is much different to the one we thought we'd have.
This blog is about what we do now we know we won't be having children - the thoughts, dreams, realities, sorrows, and joys that have become our new life path.
I hope you will enjoy what I will be sharing, and I hope that if you are at the point where life without children is a reality for you, that you might find some hope and inspiration here.
Something was wrong, but nobody could tell us what - and they still can't to this day. We tried IVF three times but our results were not good. We were devastated.
Eighteen months after our last IVF cycle, we knew we would not be having our own children. And, somehow, we have moved to a life that is much different to the one we thought we'd have.
This blog is about what we do now we know we won't be having children - the thoughts, dreams, realities, sorrows, and joys that have become our new life path.
I hope you will enjoy what I will be sharing, and I hope that if you are at the point where life without children is a reality for you, that you might find some hope and inspiration here.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
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