24th June, 2009

Hi All,

So here's a little about me. I hale from Redcliffe, south-east Queensland, Australia. I met my partner Chris in 1997, when I was 20 and he was 29. We've been happily living together for 10 years.

After the years of living it up and enjoying our youth, we decided that we were getting on a bit (especially Chris, hehe) and it was time to settle down and start a family. This was about 3 years ago, when I was 29. I remember thinking "Gee, it might take six months or even a whole YEAR to conceive"! I was sure I would have a baby at 30! So we chucked out the contraceptive pills and threw caution to the wind.

Well, it did take us about a year to get pregnant. I didn't go to the Dr, but I had a pretty good idea that I was pregnant. Chris was working interstate, and I thought it would be a lovely idea to keep my secret until he came home! However, I miscarried a week later and when I went to the Dr he said there was no use in doing anything, and I should just let nature take its course. Chris came home to a blubbering mess. Not only did I continue to bleed for about 2 months, but Chris had no idea what I was going through. He kept saying that it was all a 'good thing' because at least we knew we COULD conceive, and it would all work out in the end. I felt so alone!

Well, I eventually did get over it, and very well I might add.

I fell pregnant again about 7 months later. Chris was working interstate again, however I phoned him and told him straight away this time! I headed straight for the Dr, and he sent me for an ultrasound, given that I had previously miscarried. Everything was OK, they did say that the heartbeat was a little on the slow side, but could confirm nothing at that stage other than I was 5 weeks and things seemed to be OK. Chris and I were both overjoyed, and we told our immediate family, who in turn told others. We went on holidays camping with our family at Christmas (2007) and one night I started bleeding and cramping. The next day an ultrasound showed that the fetus was only 6.5 weeks old, with no heartbeat. It should have been 8 weeks. The baby had died two weeks previously, and I'd had a missed miscarriage. Given that the last time I bleed for 2 months, we opted for a D&C which was much better as the physical part was over, and we could deal with the emotional. Chris now understood what it feels like to loose a little one, and we grieved together.

This second loss was much harder to get over. I started getting really fixated on becoming pregnant. I was counting days, reading books on cervical mucus, sperm production, fertility foods, desperately wanting to have sex when I was ovulating, wishing my life away with "six days until I can do a pregnancy test' then becoming over the moon when my period was half a day late, and crying when it did come. This went on for about six months.

One day I'd had enough and I let it go. I realised how out of hand I was getting, and I let go of that stuff. I knew if I didn't they'd have to put me in the funny farm. I purposely did not take any notice of my period dates, ovulation, if it was the 'right time' to have sex. About six months after that I started giving up hope of having a baby.

A year and a half after the last miscarriage, I had found a peace within myself, knowing that people live wonderful fulfilling lives without having to reproduce. I realised that I maybe the favourate Aunt forever, and never the Mum. I felt free, knowing that whatever happened, although I still longed for a baby, that Chris was enough and I could be happy either way. I took steps to advance my career, and signed up for further studies. I realised I had been putting my whole life on hold, not making any concrete plans. I knew that having a baby would change our lives and I didn't want to make commitments I would have to break. I was living my life on the premise of something that may never happen.

Three weeks ago I was leaning over the washing machine, leaning on my boobs really hurt. I started to think to myself "when was my last period?". I was sure it was longer than a month ago. So to stop myself getting excited I bought a pregnancy test the next day. The next morning I did the wee-wee test, just to show I WASN'T pregnant mind you, just to stop myself from going over the top, and I was totally shocked to get a positive result. So off to the Dr I went (and had a little cry to, sorry Doc). That day I started cramping so I went for an ultrasound which showed a gestational sac at 5 weeks. I had some spotting and some more cramping. I resigned myself to the fact that this pregnancy would most likely end in miscarriage.

Well, so far so good. Chris and I went for our 8 week ultrasound today. 8 weeks, 3 days to be precise (apparently!) The little thing measured 2 cm's, and has a heartbeat of 151 beats per minute. Chris is totally over the moon, however I am still taking things day by day. We're having pizza for dinner tonight to celebrate (considering I can't have a beer, it's a pretty good comprimise).

When we left the clinic, Chris hugged me and said "Good job honey!" I had to laugh, and reply "Good job Chris, I didn't do it alone you know."

Today we're pregnant, but like everything in life, we don't know what tomorrow holds. Tomorrow is a mystery. If the little one stays with me I promise to love and care for him for the rest of my life. If the little one doesn't stay with me, I'll know it wasn't meant to be, and he'll be safe with God in heaven, with all the other lost babies that were never meant to be ours to hold.