Rainbow Number 1 – My Bonfire Night baby – if the getting pregnant was a hurdle, being pregnant was an even bigger one but the 12th march 2009 brought me that precious 2nd line and the battle to get to the 12 week scan in fact it was more of a war and we almost lost it!
Bleeding and lots of it, one embryo lost at 5 weeks, fainting, bladder failing, I mean seriously could this not have gone slightly better after everything we had been through. My hips totally gave up at 26 weeks and I was also diabetic
but I didn’t care, I couldn’t give a hoot, every kick was reassurance and I savoured everyone and every second. It’s odd, but I felt like I had always know my boy, he was no surprise just a comfort and I loved him more than I can put into words.
Rainbow Number 2 – I can just imagine my parents face when we announced that we would love Toby to have a sibling, my body had taken a battering and our nearest and dearest asked if it was really worth it? The answer was immediate YES I cannot imagine anything better and really it wasn’t that bad before … was it??
So, straight onto clomid and on the 6th month, the last month, the, this is it month, and, low and behold we only went and did it – we were pregnant.
My pregnancy with Sam was nothing short of a nightmare, we lost the twin embryo at about 6 weeks (they thought there may actually have been 3 and we lost the first at about 4 weeks) and during a stay in hospital with a womb that wanted to not have my baby in it, bleeding and a bladder that didn’t work a very kind consultant offered me medical management to end the pregnancy, that I had been through enough and he had no doubt that this end in another miscarriage. He was so kind and so caring and whilst I appreciated his help I just couldn’t – I had to fight and a few days later, the contractions stopped the bleeding calmed and a scan revealed we still had a heartbeat – this baby was so much more than a miracle.
The difference this time was that it felt horrible, terrible, I hated every single second and for once I was scared for my life and worried that Toby would not only not have a sibling but would also lose his Mummy. The hips packed up at 16 weeks, insulin dependent at 13 weeks, bladder stopped and to this day never re-started, blood clot on my lung and bleeding throughout. But instead of relishing every kick, I almost hated every one. I love what each one meant but every kick made me feel sick to my core. At 36 weeks it was decided that enough was enough and bubba needed to come out.
I waited and waited and waited I could see how beautiful my boy was and could tell that he had the sweetest and kindest nature but I felt absolutely nothing, zero, zilch no feelings of love that I felt before – my poor boy had a Mummy who didn’t love him.
The recovery was so slow, in fact 3.5 years on and I still believe that I haven’t recovered – it was truly a terrible 7 months, I cried all the time, I didn’t enjoy a second of it, whatever photos you see of this time are a lie I felt like I was in a very black hole of despair.
I remember so clearly the moment when I felt the rush of something, Sam was 7 months old and whilst I had cared for him and nurtured him, this was the first time I had felt love for my beautiful boy and slowly the guilt started to melt away. Today at 3.5 years old (“I nearly four mummy”) my Sammy has the sweetest nature he is a cute, funny, kind little man and the cheekiest little chimp. I hope he isn’t affected by those first 7 months… he is pure gold and like his brother there are no words that adequately describe how much they mean to me, how much I love them.