The Worst Days

One of the many, many things I’ve struggled to deal with throughout our infertility is the feeling of standing still whilst the world rushes on around you. Weeks turn into months. Months turn into years. The seasons change, another Christmas goes by, and still no baby to take pictures with next to the Christmas tree. Meanwhile all around you, your friends start settling down into their own little families, and you notice even those kids who were in the years below you at school are popping out sprogs themselves. Life goes on. Right?

Wrong. How very wrong we were.

Before our first round of IVF, before the pregnancy and before the miscarriage, we were dealt not one but two devastating blows that didn’t even occur to us would happen. In February 2018 - within the space of 9 days - J and I both unexpectedly lost a grandparent. For me, I was (ironically) at a baby shower when I saw that my mum had tried to call me, twice in succession. When I finally realised and called her back, she delivered the awful news that my grandma had passed away in her sleep. I was inconsolable – I had only just had a roast dinner with her the week before – she had been fine! I couldn’t handle that as well as our infertility troubles and coming to terms with the fact that we would have to go through assisted conception to be able to have a child, I had now lost my gran out of the blue. I had so looked forward to the day that I could present her with a great-grandchild that it didn’t even cross my mind that she wouldn’t be around to see me become a mum.

Over the next 8 days, we found out that J’s grandad had fallen and his injuries were quite nasty. After a short spell in hospital, he sadly passed, too. I had been quite used to seeing him often over the 12 years that I’d known him – always over for Christmas, or popping by for breakfast on a Saturday morning. It was like losing another of my grandparents, and I was so unbelievably sad for J and his parents, especially his mum who was fiercely protective of him.

This is the thing about infertility. It CONSUMES you. People say “just don’t think about it and it’ll happen!” Honey, oh my god just shutthefuckup. I literally eat, sleep and breathe fertility. It’s the first thing you think of when you wake up (usually because you’re taking your Basal Body Temperature) and the last thing you think of at night (usually because you’re - uh – trying to make a baby?!) Everything else in life takes a back seat. Want to go on that fancy holiday? Not this year, babes. Oh, you wanted that promotion? Better not go for it this time love, what if you get pregnant straight away?! Your life hits the pause button for as long as it takes. Because that’s another thing about infertility – it'll take as long as it takes.

Our grandparents’ deaths hit us hard, and I think it was because we were so all-consumed with infertility that we didn’t stop to realise what was going on with everything else. You just expect people to be around for you, in the literal and figurative sense. You don’t realise that actually you could be losing your family, friends and support system around you, because they don’t know how to cope with your grief.

What came next though was an immense outpouring of support from family. This was obviously a very family-oriented situation, and - like weddings - death brings everyone together again. I ‘came out’ to my cousins about our troubles, and their enthusiasm for IVF and support for it was incredible! Aunties, uncles, cousins all rallied around to just be there for each other, supporting each other through our own sadness. It’s so good just to talk about things, and realise what we were all going – or had been – through, too. It made J and I even more determined to see things through. J’s mum even made sure that his grandad’s funeral wasn’t on the day of our IVF consent appointment, as she knew how monumental it was for us! We were all in this together.

As you know, our first round of IVF wasn’t meant to be. But I believe that knowing we had two extra stars in the sky cheering us on was what gave us that glimmer of hope in the first place. It was that little bit of support that said to us “you CAN do this, you HAVE got this!” And we’ll do it again, no matter what. We have said time and again the phrase “when we are parents”, not “if we have a baby” and I think that’s such an important mindset to live by. We WILL be parents someday, and sure it might not be to our own biological children, or I might not carry my own baby... But IT WILL HAPPEN.

Fast-forward to July 2018. 

After I realised I was miscarrying our babies, I rang the on-call nurse who confirmed what we had suspected. She called it a “chemical pregnancy” which I think is a really shit term to use. If you Google it, it’ll tell you it’s an early miscarriage. It’s deemed “chemical” because the only thing that proves that you were pregnant was the chemical changes to the hormones in your urine or blood test – essentially, you didn’t make it far along enough to be able to see anything on an ultrasound. It’s usually around the 5-6 week mark of pregnancy, and actually they’re so common that most women who weren’t actively trying for a baby would just mistake it for a late period than an actual pregnancy.

The next bit might be a bit too much information, so I forgive you if you want to skip ahead.

The next day, I just laid on the sofa, waiting for it to happen. I hadn’t actually seen any blood clots at this point, but I was remembering the comment about the 50p from my friend’s miscarriage. I wasn’t even watching TV, I was just lying there, doing nothing. J had gone to work, I told him to go as there was nothing we could do. Then at about 11:30am, the most excruciating pain hit me and I just felt an overwhelming urge to go to the toilet. I knew at that point that the pregnancy tissue had left my body and I had officially miscarried. There was nothing “chemical” about that part of my pregnancy.

Luckily, J came bursting through the front door at that moment – I don’t think I’d even flushed at that point. I know some people scoop it out of the toilet and bury it, or take it to the doctors for analysis, and each to their own. But I needed it gone. I can’t remember who did it, but I just remember sobbing that it had gone and that I believed it was my fault. This is so important - a miscarriage is NOT the mother's fault. Although the term is crap again, and implies that we somehow "mishandled" our pregnancy, there was just some chemical or hormonal imbalance which just did not mean that those precious cells would've created a healthy, living baby. I was so unbelievably thankful that J had come home at that point, it was like he knew that in that moment he had to be with me.

The summer of 2018 was a blur to me. I retreated far, far back into my own little bubble, which only J was allowed to enter. Friends tried to reach out to me, but I literally just wanted to be with J. Even if he was sat watching the football, I didn’t care so long as I was with him. I went to work, and went home again, not caring if I’d done a good job or if I’d gone the extra mile that day. Our families tried to rally around us, but no one could pick up the pieces. I uninstalled WhatsApp in an attempt to switch off from life, and I deleted my Instagram account for fear of seeing yet another pregnancy announcement. Friends could see that I wanted to be left alone, and I didn’t even realise as some of them slipped away for good. I don’t really remember much of what happened between July and November that year. I didn’t do anything remotely worthwhile, and looking back I realised that I stopped taking photos of things, too. I stopped seeing the beauty in the life all around me.

Straight after we miscarried, I tried to bounce back to normality and continue on with plans to go to a concert with my best friends. I ended up breaking down massively, probably putting a right downer on the weekend. All around me there were mums with their little girls, enjoying the concert. Usually, babies and bumps are triggers for me. But I felt a pain I’d never experienced before, as I never thought about the fact that of course those babies turn into children who can walk and talk and sing and dance to their pop idols. Seeing them all around me made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. This was supposed to be my future, and it had slipped away as fast as I’d celebrated it.

6 long weeks later, the hospital scheduled us for a follow up consultation – also known as the “What The Fuck” appointment. They agreed that ICSI would’ve been a better protocol for us, and next time we would do that. They agreed that I didn’t respond as well as they’d hoped to the stimulation drugs, given my age and ovarian reserve levels, so next time they would put me on a different medication. They agreed that we should try fertility counselling, and referred us to a specialist. All the while, everything was just spoken about in “next time” terms. Next time would be a long way off for us, as we were now out of NHS funding and would have to find around £5,000 to go self-funded.

Counselling wasn’t really for us. The therapist tried to get J to open up, which is like trying to get blood out of a stone. She tried to get us to start thinking about a Plan B, such as surrogacy or adoption. As I’ve stated, we are totally for going down that route, if that’s what it takes. But we’d only had one try of IVF, and I wanted to give it another shot – after all, the first round is described as a “tester” to see how you respond to things. She told me to avoid my triggers – pregnant women and babies – which was shit advice being that 99% of my friendship group fell into this category. We didn’t revisit counselling. 

One thing that stood out massively for us at this point in the year is that my parents gifted us a generous portion of my grandma’s inheritance. They knew the money would be used towards future rounds of IVF, and I think this was the burst of light that I needed to get through things as best I could. The next morning, J and I toasted our next chapter at breakfast, and I broke down over my pancakes when I realised that our grandparents would be helping us achieve our dream of becoming parents. It was like that age old saying, one door closes, another one opens. I was determined to make them proud, and knew that the next round of IVF had to work, for their sakes as well as ours. We weren’t just doing it for us now, we were doing it for them, too!

KEB x

Getting Hitched Without a Hitch?

And so, after nearly 9 years together, J and I were finally getting married! 

Hair and make-up went ahead without any major problems. I’d had a trial done a few months before, and was really pleased with my hair and make up lady. She brought two assistants with her, as altogether we needed 5 people’s faces and hair sorted before our 10:30am ceremony. The only thing I would say is that I was disappointed that she herself didn’t do my makeup. Whilst I was pleased with the outcome, it wasn’t what we’d agreed on in the trial, and I don’t think she passed on my plan to her assistant (hence why I have not tagged her, especially as I recommended her to all my friends and I think every single one of them had something to complain about!).

Our venue was fab and Ali, our wedding co-ordinator, couldn’t have been more attentive on the morning of and night before the wedding. She made sure I’d had breakfast and was aware of what time the registrars were turning up etc. She took photos on the venue’s iPad as we walked to the ceremony, however whilst I was happy for them to be on the venue’s Facebook page – I didn’t expect them to be up before we’d even made it to the reception! People from work saw the photos, and so I felt it kinda ruined the surprise for the evening guests.  

The ceremony room was beautiful. I could not have been more pleased with the décor, and Ali had ensured that we had rustic hessian tie-backs on her chairs, which were new in that season! (Remember, this was a 2015 wedding – it pains me to see burlap and wood EVERYWHERE now, when I had to source it all myself!!) A beautiful archway graced the end of the aisle, framing J and I perfectly as we said our vows. We’d made little reserved cards for the first few rows of seats, ensuring our favourite people were right at the front of the action. The music was loosely linked to our favourite film soundtracks, and included pieces by Vitamin String Quartet, who take popular chart songs and turn them into elegant string versions of said songs!  

The ceremony itself was lovely. Think what you like about civil ceremonies vs. church weddings, but I really loved ours. It was only about 20 minutes long, but we felt that everything that should be said, was said. I loved walking down the aisle with my dad and couldn’t stop grinning at people in the pews. I think if I looked at Jim I would’ve balled my eyes out! It was only until we were signing the register and people were clicking their smart phones away that it really hit me how much it meant for all these people to be here, watching us say I Do. Then the tears came! 

I made all of the decorations myself - the Table Plan was actually a frame that I dug out of a skip and cleaned up myself!

As previously mentioned, we’d gone for quite a rustic theme. There was lots of hessian – table runners, chair tie-backs etc, and natural flowers like white roses and gypsophilia. The table themes related back to my love for films (see first ever post!), and each one was named after a different favourite film. On each table was a quote from those films, which I really loved researching. After Father of the Bride, my most favourite film is Pearl Harbor. I’m a MASSIVE Josh Hartnett fan and proper fangirled on him when I was a teenager. I walked down the aisle to the film's theme tune, which was Hans Zimmer’s “Tennessee.” Our top table was named after the movie, and the quote was one I’d regularly say to J: “You’re my best friend.” The food was delicious, and still to this day we have compliments for how good it was! This is why we chose a restaurant rather than a hotel for our reception - they’re used to catering for large amounts of people at a high standard! We had a massive menu, with five choices for starters, mains and desserts!  

H and her then-fiancé (now husband!) kindly performed our first dance song for us. As J and I are into our rock music, it wasn’t hugely appropriate to have songs by a band called Bullet for my Valentine at our wedding! That was just our opinion, of course. ‘Our song’ was a cover of the song “Everywhere” by Michelle Branch, but we liked the Yellowcard version. This was just a bit too up-tempo for our first dance, so while H sang a beautifully soft version of the song, her other half played the acoustic guitar alongside her. It was one of the most special parts of our wedding day and made it even more personal. I think I cried the most during this dance! 

Our first dance was extra special - an acoustic version of "Everywhere" by Michelle Branch/Yellowcard, performed by one of my bridesmaids H and her husband M!

One thing I always remember people saying before the Big Day was that you should make sure you and your partner take 10 minutes away from it all and just watch it go by. I made damn sure I did this, as I just wanted to take it all in and see our nearest and dearest celebrate the happiest day of our lives. Unfortunately, I also remembered to do this right at the time that J was suitably hammered. Bless him, he was a good drunk though. He kept saying over and over how much he was enjoying himself and thanking me for everything I’d done! 

KEB x

24 Hours and Counting

It’s the day before your wedding, and what should you be doing? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! 

Unless you’re me. Then you’re racing around, trying to finish three wedding cakes, deliver them to the reception venue, and then make it back across town by 6pm for a quickie rehearsal at the ceremony venue. Let it be said, this is not the done way! 

J and I with our Master of Ceremonies at our wedding rehearsal: Messy hair, don't care!

People around you will offer to help. You MUST let them help. They WANT to help, so give them a job to do, even if it’s just passing on a message to one of the suppliers. It’s crazy to think that you might even need an itinerary for the day before the wedding, too. You forget about simple things, like eating, and packing an overnight bag. Both of which I entrusted my ‘Maids to do, and only because they prompted me to do them, as I’d forgotten! 

Like I say, give people jobs. You’ll find that actually quite a few of your guests might have taken the previous day off work, especially your immediate family. My brother was on chauffeur duty, my mum and aunties were busy preparing the flowers (yes, the bouquets and decorations!), the girls were helping me bake in the kitchen and generally giving me little nudges such as “do you have a card for J to open tomorrow?” Oops, no I hadn’t! 

Get your overnight bag ready if you’re staying at another venue to your house. Remember little things, such as perfume and a razor. I forgot to bring perfume, and for some reason it really annoyed me! I don’t even wear perfume often, but knowing I had a bottle of Jimmy Choo Flash at home and not sprayed profusely on my wrists just really bugged me. (I borrowed A’s Marc Jacobs Daisy, instead). Think about what you’ll be wearing as you get ready. Do you have quirky PJ’s for you and your bridal squad? Thank god for my girls, I swear. I just had crappy old sweats to wear on the day, and bless them - they went into town and bought me a bridal dressing gown from Boux Avenue. Unfortunately, our bridal suite was freezing, so I accessorized my glam gown with my worn-out Uggs! 

Wearing my skanky old Ugg boots whilst getting ready for the most important day of my life... Obviously didn't dampen my spirits as I Facetimed relatives, though!

For god’s sake, eat. It was approximately 9pm by the time I sat down with a takeaway Nando’s whilst I was getting my nails done, and it was not the relaxing pre-wedding night I’d imagined! Do all the things that are expected of you – go to a salon and get your nails done. Hell, have a massage if you want! Settle down with a glass of Prosecco and just drink it all in (the atmosphere, not the booze. Actually, yes the booze). You should want the first day of the rest of your life to go off without a hitch, and being as calm and collected as possible the night before will go a long way towards that! 

I’m not going to go into too much detail about the day before our wedding, because actually it just makes me really sad and regretful. Just please, please relax and stay stress-free. This is where being a budget bride kinda goes out the window, because you do need a bit of a pamper and some downtime! I remember literally racing out the door and nearly forgetting to kiss J for the last time before we said ‘I do,’ and that is not how you should be 12 hours before your wedding day! 

Relax, relax, RELAX. And maybe pay someone else to do the running around for you. I believe they’re called Wedding Planners. I think. Could be wrong.  

KEB x