{peeking in}

we are moving next month, and our new landlord kindly invited us to the annual local village breakfast this morning.

held on the heath and set back from the main road,
down a winding path lined by bluebells,
we arrived at a dreamy clearing amongst a copse of trees.

it was a lovely way of gathering the villagers together in times where community is such an undervalued asset.
and, despite the typical grey clouds of a british bank holiday,
laughter mixed with the irresistible smells of sausages and bacon on the charcoal fired bbq...

it was all great except for the fact everyone there seemed so grown up.
with their 2.5 children,
picnic sets straight out of country living magazine,
estate cars and barbour jackets...
cam and i felt a little like we had gate crashed one of my parents parties!

the crazy thing is these people are not that much older than us.
so why did we feel this way?

is it about being parents?
is that the ticket for automatic entry to being a grown up?
will i forever feel immature because we don't (can't) have children?

i don't know.
what i do know however is i just didn't connect with the people there today.
for one reason or another,
perceived or actual,
we were kept very much on the periphery.

and it left us a little melancholic.
initially the self flagellation started.
it's because we're not good enough.
not professional enough.
not wealthy enough.
not grown up enough.

but, having spent some time thinking about it,
i realised that is not why we were feeling despondent.
rather, it's because we realised this was unlikely to be home.
in our eternal search for belonging,
we knew then, it wasn't going to be found here.

and you know what?
that is fine.
because having had the opportunity to peek into their lives today,
i note we live in vastly different worlds.
and, as beautiful as it might be for them,
it's not where i want to be.
and so our journey continues...

what worlds have you peeked into recently?

{making a difference}

maneouvring through a maze of grief, cam and i have been talking a lot recently. we've been exploring where our souls wish to lead us next, and trying to unravel the truth from the lies we tell to protect ourselves and our hearts...

because what are we really crying about? i mean, although we may never be able to have our own biological children, we are still able to have a family if that's what we really wanted. so is that what we want? and if not, what is it we are mourning the loss of?

don't get me wrong, there is nothing i would desire more on some days, than to see the reflection of our love in the face of a child. to feel the warmth of a small body snuggled into me. to hear cam being called 'dada'. but the truth is, those moments are still be available to us if we choose. so is it really about genes?

and that is the crux of it. from thinking we had no choice, we've found we actually do. in fact, rather than blindly following the conventions of: grow up, meet someone, get married, have children, grow old, die. suddenly we are faced with a conscious decision. and the question becomes: what do we really want as opposed to what should we want. because, when it comes to having children: is it about creating a part of us, or is it about creating a family? and exactly what is a family? what does it mean?

of course most would probably say it is a bit of both, and i don't doubt for the majority it probably is. but for the growing number of couples who cannot have their own biological child, it becomes a genuine question.

cam told me tonight part of his pain is the thought his existance is no longer valid. that his infertility is the universes way of saying he is not worthy to procreate, to take part in the cycle of life. to be part of evolution.

i never thought of it like that before. but what he said resonated.

all my life i've yearned to be something more. to make a difference. to contribute. and i can see now how parenthood is one of the most valuable contributions people can choose to make to society. to create a new life and have the power to instill into that pure being the values and magic of possibilities... wow, what could be more important or worthwhile. talk about well and truly "making the world a better place."

but reality isn't like that. certainly not in the world i live in at the moment. where i work, i meet some of societies most broken and damaged people. where children are having children, and mothers and fathers are too high to care. i talk to men who don't know how to resolve an argument without using their fists, and young girls who get their teenage kicks from street robberies. i spend my days trying to understand who they are and how i can help them.

because i see their raw potential. i see the twinkle in the eye of the man who spends his nights getting stoned and sleeping all day. i see the strength in the 19 year old mother of two who has battled addictions since she was 13 when left by her parents to fend for herself. i see a future for the 'hoodie' who didn't believe he could hold down a job, but has been working for the last 2 months now.

i see possibilities in them they may have never seen themselves. i believe in the strength of human spirit. and i am willing to work with them for as long as i can, to help them see it in themselves. they are not babies. and they don't come from me. but they are part of me. they are part of my world and, to play even the smallest part in theirs, i am making a difference.

without giving birth and having a nuclear family of my own, i can still contribute to the world. i can still plant my seeds. maybe not in the form of my cells and DNA: but hopefully with my words, my hope and, most of all my love.

{thank you}

at the beginning of this month i started a 28-day programme with an amazing circle of women, and today is the last day.

it's been a tough month for me, but one i know i will emerge from stronger and wiser. the glimpse i have had into the possibilities and opportunities that lie before me remind me of the awesome power of the universe, and to remain grateful knowing, when i am ready, the paths will unfold before me.

in the meantime what i have learnt most this last month, through the programme, the blogs of the women whose lives i have been invited into, and through my own heartbreak... is this: i am so inspired by strong women, but i realise i have also been in the unhealthy business of comparing myself against them. and, as i read somewhere recently, comparison is a surefire way to kill happiness! because for a long time i used to wonder whether i was worthy. worthy of putting my feelings out there. worthy of participating in a world where i am (to be honest) sometimes a little intimidated. worthy of standing up and being counted... but i know now, we all have our place. we all have our own stories. and we all have our purpose.

so thank you, thank you to every single kind soul that has buoyed me along the way with your kind words and thoughts. because as this journey draws to a close, i know it's only the beginning. my voice is strong, my heart is full and open, and i am ready.

{healing}

it seems apt to start writing again on a new moon. i feel it is the beginning of a new cycle; these last 10 days in particular bringing everything to a crescendo. my darling sister in law recently wrote to me and said: have you been able to find the space to process your own thoughts and feelings? and the truth is i don't think i really have. i feel i have just launched from one crisis to the next, without a moment to pause and think about myself. but maybe that has been a good thing because now, in the quiet of the morning, when i feel the silt of recent events begin to finally settle, i see i have unwittingly created some space. some space between our failed ivf and where i sit now, so that i may be able to process my emotions and feelings a little more objectively...

i've become addicted to house recently. i don't know how it has managed 4 series under my radar, but i am positively obsessed now, with a little crush on hugh laurie too! anyhow, on one of the episodes in season one, the 5 stages of grief were discussed: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. that episode really resonated with me, because it made me pause and consider where i sit at the moment. because i know i need to grieve. i know i need to live through the experience to truly release it, and i know this is something i often struggle with. denial can be so much more comfortable...

looking at those 5 stages i think i've always bounced between denial and bargaining, trying to avoid the anger part where possible. but maybe i do need to get angry. maybe i need to feel the anger in order to move through it?

because i've felt a lot of anger recently. no sooner had we got our bad news, my mother went into a meltdown. for the last 10 days, her moods have been unbearable and each day i would come home during my lunch hour, and after work, to tears and tantrums, smashed plates and food thrown from the table. this continued throughout the days, and work became a welcome escape from home. it all came to a head on tuesday, and my anger erupted. it felt cathartic but was ugly. and it made me wonder if maybe my anger wasn't all because of her...

so now i sit in the quiet that comes after a storm: where the sense of foreboding has gone, but you are left with a fragile peace. as nature begins to heal herself gently and quietly. and i think that is where i am too: trying to heal myself gently and quietly.

{letting go}

it was not to be.
there were tears, sadness and grief yesterday.
but we also feel released. liberated.
free from waiting.
wanting.
hoping.

we've been hoping for 7 years now. and the last two weeks were the closest we ever came to realising that dream. we were so close, we dared to allow ourselves to see it. taste it. want it. but it was not to be.

and so now it's time to put that dream to rest. to quote reinhold niebuhr, "god, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” we need peace from this journey. we need to let it go.

and that's okay. as we walked our four legged babies yesterday, i said to cam: "you know how i make myself feel better when it feels too hard? i think about what the worst thing that could happen to me is. and that would be if one of us got really sick and i was to lose you. and then i realise, i can handle anything else."

and so it is. i can handle anything else, because it's not the worst thing that could happen to me. it sucks. and i am angry, sad, confused, hurt and yeah, a little devastated. but it's not the worst thing that could happen to me, and for that i am still grateful.

{2 week wait}

i've not really been present recently, which is ironic, as i have couldn't have been more present in one sense with all that has been going on in and out of my body! but all of a sudden, in this last week in particular, the cumulative experiences of our IVF journey seemed to hit me all at once. and it's thrown me a little off balance.

but now i am in what is known as the "2 week wait" where the furore of everything leading up to this point just stops. and there is this unfamiliar silence. stillness. where there is nothing to do, can do, but wait. initially it unnerved me somewhat and i found myself becoming obsessive about this egg, zygote, embryo (i didn't know what to call it!) floating inside me. i would think about it, surf the net researching about it, scour forums looking for any information about it... but i realised this was not necessarily a healthy and normal way to spend the next 12 days. nor sustainable really!

so i'm slowly finding myself again. taking with me all the good stuff i have been discovering about myself this last month, and moving forward with it. after all, if i am going to be a mother, there is no time like the present to lead by example!

i've missed doing the things that are important to me. writing. blogging. taking photos. scrapping. seeing friends. studying. loving my husband. playing with my dogs... they haven't been wholly neglected, but i have been a little distracted...

of course each and every day we are still praying for our miracle but, it's is out of our hands now and, until 13 november there is little more we can do: except be grateful and live fully. and that's exactly what i intend to do.

{praying}

15 mature eggs were collected yesterday, which made the agony i was in afterwards worth it.
unfortunately this morning we were told only 1 fertilised normally.
i would be lieing if i didn't admit my initial reaction was disappointment. i think we had hoped with 15 eggs, our odds would be higher.
but then all it takes is one for our miracle...
the next 24 hours are crucial to see if the cells divide normally and, if so, the embryo will be transferred tomorrow.
i've never really prayed. but today i am praying...

{courage}

we are coming to the last stages of our ivf cycle now and the reality is truly sinking in.

my eggs will be collected on tuesday and, all going well, the embryo transfer will take place 3-5 days after that. then it is the "two week wait" when we can only hope and pray that they find a home in my womb to nestle in for the next 9 months. we have one amazing, wonderful opportunity here and the final outcome will be known to us in perfect time for cam's birthday and our 7th wedding anniversary (same day, 16 november). that prospect terrifies me. regardless of the result, our lives will change irrevocably in 3 weeks.

it's been an interesting 6 weeks leading up to this point, as i braced myself and my body for a rollercoaster ride. yet, i haven't really been aware of any significant changes physically. nor emotionally. well, not in the negative way i had imagined anyway! instead, i found myself unearthing an inner peace and self confidence i didn't really know i had. a quiet acceptance of who i am. a gentle observer of life around me and where i chose to fit in to it. in fact, amidst everything (i also started a new job and photographed my first wedding) i found courage.

i like to think that maybe this is a small sampling of the potential of motherhood. after all in one moment you suddenly become responsible for another human beings life. if that isn't rising to a challenge, i don't know what is!

because what i've also learned these last weeks is that fear doesn't kill you. in fact sometimes the greatest rewards will only come by taking a plunge, deep into what you most fear. i was frightened by this ivf journey. both physically and emotionally i was scared it would damage me. i was worried that it would have a negative effect on my marriage, on my relationship with cam. i am still petrified about how we will cope if it doesn't work.

but that's the thing. fear is based on the unknown. and that is what makes it scary. because sometimes we allow ourselves to think the worst. at the end of the day, to quote nietzsche, "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger" and, as i walk the final steps of this journey, i need to remind myself of this. i need to remember by walking into my fear i can only be rewarded. at worst with courage and, in this instance, at best, with our babies.

{hope}

wow.

we just received news through the post that we are suitable candidates for IVF.
this is big news and my heart is still pounding hard.
it's scary too, as i don't want to allow myself to get too excited.
but the possibility...

we don't talk much about our fertility (or lack of!) journey.
mostly because it is something very private and personal to us.
but it is also becoming something harder to avoid: as we have reached the point in life where friends around us are having children, and the fact that we are still childess after close to 7 years of marriage, doesn't go unnoticed.
those closer to us know a little about our situation, but generally it is something that is rarely discussed and often skimmed over.
i know more often than not this is mostly because people don't really know what to say.
hell, most of the time i don't know what to say!
and generally that is fine by me.

the truth of the matter is we have always known that it was going to be difficult, if not impossible, for us to have children.
and over the years we have learnt to live with that. and live with it happily too.
of course there are {moments} like when a friend announces a pregnancy, or when i see that special relationship between a parent and a child, that it tugs at the heart strings.
that i feel the injustice of the situation. that i wish things could be different.
but moments is all that they are.
and the majority of the time i am grateful for the many blessings i do have, and find faith and trust that life works in ways that we may not understand ~ but we should always be thankful for.

these last few months have been difficult for us because we have been challenging that status quo. we have actively sought to investigate, for once and for all, whether there is a {real} possibility for us to have children.
and it's been tough. because to know the {truth} could potentially remove any last small shred of hope that we had.

and then we receive the letter today.

on one hand it is the {best} news in the world.
confirmation that there {is} a chance. that we could still one day be parents.
confirmation of hope.

on the other it is terrifying.
you hear such horror stories of what IVF can do to you.
how the emotional rollercoaster can be devastating to a couple...

i feel overwhelmed.
i want to be strong. yet remain hopeful.
i want to visualise the family that i feel we deserve,
but i am fearful of allowing myself to dream for fear of the disappointment...

i know i just need to sit with these feelings for awhile.
let them settle.

ultimately though, i just wanted to share the good news.

Updated:
it's interesting. reading over what i have written it seems abundantly clear that i do want to have children, but i've just not allowed myself to think about it.
and i don't mean that in terms of denial ~ but rather ~ convincing myself there is no point dwelling or craving something i have no control over.
and i still stand by that.

i think that is why the letter has been such a spin out.
because i feel today we {have} been given some control.
there is a genuine possibility.

sometimes it's easier not knowing the truth, because it absolves you of any responsibility (and sure, it saves you from heartbreak too).
but sometimes the things worth having, are worth taking a risk over.
either way i believe i will be richer for the journey.

so i'm going to embrace it.
wholeheartedly.
i'm going to allow myself to want this.
and do everything i can to make this happen for us.
wish me luck.