I knew this day was coming. I knew it was coming when the year flicked over into 2017. I’ve been a bit unsettled and twitchy the past few weeks, I initially put it down to post Christmas fatigue but then I made the connection – it was 28 January making me feel weird.
This time last year I was in Alicante, all on my own as Matt was home with Toby. I’d made a quiet solo trip to have our one remaining embryo transferred, nobody knew and we told Toby I’d gone away for work. I was scared, nervous, hopeful. Honestly, we didn’t expect the embryo to survive the thaw but it did. I took a selfie whilst I was waiting for the doctor to come back – I look excited, I look stupid. I look at the picture now and want to reach inside and shake the me of last year and shout ‘what the fuck are you doing? Leave it in the freezer, find a surrogate!’
That embryo, Henry’s embryo, was our hope and I wasted it. I railroaded Matt into agreeing a date to use it as I thought another baby would fix me, pregnancies around me added pressure to those feelings (not their fault, obviously). I wish someone had told me no but the fertility clinics were on board, we had a treatment plan from the doctor. In hindsight I should have pushed for more than just aspirin as a plan but trusted doctors then, they know best after all.
As it was, as soon as I was pregnant I realised that 100 babies wouldn’t fix me. I just wanted Rory back and that couldn’t happen.
I thought 2017 might be ok as we’re not spending our lives governed by fertility planning but of course I’m going to be reliving all of Henry’s first milestones and Rory’s second milestones – neither are the milestones we hoped for. It was Toby’s birthday last week and Matt said it was nice to do a big party as we won’t ever have them for the babies. He’s right, they have milestones but these are fixed in the past, ever present dates that make me twitch.
I’m really hoping 2017 is kinder.
2017, I’ve always loved starting a new year, January feels clean and fresh and the year is new and shiny. New years are bittersweet these days as each new year marks being further away from my babies. This March it will be two years since we lost Rory and I now have to say that Henry died last year – it’s frightening that the last two years have flown by in the blink of an eye.
2017 is the first year since 2006 that we’ve not been planning on starting a family, trying for a baby, undergoing fertility treatment, pondering a sibling, having more treatment and being pregnant. I’m sad that we won’t have any more babies, relieved that it’s all over and a little excited about being free from such worries.
As it’s a new year and we are moving forward (not moving on, that’s different) I am determined to clear the clutter from our lives that is weighing us down. I am slowly starting to sort through our junk and it feels good. I know this year I will have to face sorting through all the baby stuff in the loft. Most of it was Toby’s but there are a few bits I bought for Rory, they will be hard to look at, hold, and let go of.
One of the first things to go is a sharps box. When we found out that Henry’s pregnancy was not going well I was put on clexane injections, they ended two weeks later when we found out he was going to die within days. This sharps bin has been sat on the side in our bedroom since June and until this year I did not have the energy to get rid of it. Tomorrow it is going; the box is sat on the doorstep waiting collection in the morning and when I go to bed I won’t see it. I won’t see the constant reminder of my failure to keep Henry alive, the reminder of feeling let down by the doctors we took advice from.
I am relieved, I feel like things are happening and a positive change is filtering through. This time last year I thought a new baby would fix me, it didn’t, in fact it very nearly broke me. The only thing that can fix me is me and I am looking forward to taking charge of what and who is in my life in order to move forward in positive ways.
2017, I’m ready for you – show me what you’ve got!