I’m not one to beat around the bush, so let’s get straight into it as I think you’ll get the gist of our journey pretty swiftly…

5 years of trying to conceive 
6 pregnancies
6 early miscarriages
Two lots of twins , 3 singles, and an ectopic pregnancy where I had my left fallopian tube removed, which reduced our chances of conceiving.

Thousands of dollars on alternative therapies such as acupuncture, Chinese herbal medicines (I drank copious amounts of boiled deer antler broth - yes, you read the right!) dietary restrictions, and supplements.

Thousands of dollars on two egg collection rounds of IVF, followed by 4 separate embryo transfers, freezing and storage of remaining embryo.

Thousands more on various investigative and often invasive tests, genetic tests, blood tests, hormone tests, tests, tests and more tests, only to be told there is absolutely no reason why we couldn’t have a healthy baby. None, nothing, nada.

A continuous roller-coaster of emotions - hope, grief, anxiety, hope, grief, shame, grief, exhaustion, failure, hope, desperation, grief, oh the grief…defeat, surrender, acceptance, closure.
We were broken, we were worn out physically and emotionally. We were done with a capital D. 
Donated our final embryo to research. 
No baby, no worries!  Brought a kitten instead who helped satisfy our innate desire to nurture and love another being.
Had an artwork made to reflect the journey we had been on, and to remember the babies we had lost.
Double income, no kids. Travelled the world, got the highest paying job of my career, ran a half marathon, had sex for fun whenever we felt the urge (what a novelty!) not an ovulation calculator in sight, 12 fun-filled carefree months passed.

Breasts felt tender, period was late, positive pregnancy test. Barely batted an eyelid. Waited for 7th miscarriage…
World goes into lockdown and COVID takes over.
Waited some more…there were so many unknowns during the first weeks of COVID lockdown.
Thought I’d better chat to my GP as had minor spotting and was starting to miscarry.
Scan, heartbeat, 8 weeks pass, then 9 weeks, 10, 11, my anxiety is THROUGH THE ROOF, 12 weeks, Harmony test comes back perfect, it’s a girl!
She’s here to stay!

Anxiety and shock slowly give way to awe, gratitude, peace.
A textbook perfect pregnancy, no dramas, no issues, no crazy symptoms. Just a beautiful blossoming miraculous life.
39.5 weeks, we experience the most amazing natural birth, with only nitrous oxide (sweet sweet nitrous oxide) and my attentive and loving Husband as my aides.
Our miracle baby is here, she's HERE!
She’s healthy, she’s happy, she’s thriving.
We blink and she’s 12 weeks old, reaching every milestone effortlessly.
I’m at RIDDLED with fear, and a dread so deep in my bones I can barely eat. I can’t sleep. I second guess every tiny decision I make, convinced I’m going to ruin her life or disadvantage her in some way. Spend sleepless nights worrying about MASSIVE things like what drink bottle I should buy her, but what if I get it wrong and she doesn’t learn to drink properly?

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More COVID lockdowns.
Anxiety induced digestive issues, weight loss, insomnia, tears, numbness.
One day I looked at my 6 month old baby on the change table trying her best to engage with me, babbling and giggling, and I felt nothing. Nothing except a feeling of devastation that this poor baby deserves so much better than me as her mother.
That was “the moment”. The moment I realised I couldn’t keep going through this rinse and repeat cycle on my own. My baby didn’t deserve it, my husband didn’t deserve it, I didn’t deserve it.
Called my GP, crying so hard I could barely get my words out. The sense of failure and guilt consumed me. As soon as she mentioned Gidget Foundation, I felt an instant sense of relief…I was no longer alone. I was getting help.
I looked forward to my fortnightly counselling sessions, they grounded me, they gave me micro-goals to work on, I could share my worries with someone without feeling like I was burdening my loved ones.

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My anxiety still ebbed and flowed, the emotional rollercoaster continued, but it was more manageable. I believed I could cope, even on my darkest days and most sleepless nights.
But I still struggled with lack of appetite, digestive issues, insomnia and resulting weight loss.
I had lost 19kgs from the time Skye was born to the day she turned 1. It was the lightest I had been since I was a teenager.
I decided I needed a multi-faceted approach to my care plan, so I spoke with my GP and decided to try anti-anxiety medication, and completed an online Insomnia/Sleep Hygiene course.
6 weeks passed, my sleep improved, I started to enjoy food again, slowly but surely I felt like I was getting back to my normal self again, as much as one can after the life changing experience of becoming a mother!

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It wasn’t until the second year of motherhood that I truly started to enjoy it and relax into it. 
When I look back at the first year I feel so robbed.
I wish I had sought help sooner. It wasn’t until I put my feelings of failure and shame aside, and asked for professional help, that the wheels of change were set in motion.
I only survived that first year because I started talking. It was the scariest and most courageous thing I have ever done. But I did it for my baby, I did it for my husband, and I did it for myself.

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They say “It takes a village to raise a child.” I believe it takes a village to raise an adult, as well. So be brave, start talking, and build your village.

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