21 August 2017

I last published anything here one year and ten days ago. Everything still felt very fresh, and my perspective at that time was somewhat skewed. I wrote of a job that was "better" than the one I had at the time of my first miscarriage. A job that were I to describe it now, I would say was less of a frying pan to fire scenario, and more of a fire to frying pan scenario. A job that I started on 21 August 2017. It was an improvement, however a number of incidents during my employment meant that it was still on the heat. The threats and abuse that I received from a customer over the phone was laughed off by my co-"workers"; every request for a contract was met with a promise that it would be given soon. This turned out to be a good thing. In the UK, there's no legal requirement for a contract, but there is a requirement for a written statement of terms, within two months of starting work.

I last published anything on here one year and ten days ago. A lot has happened since that time, and my perspective has changed somewhat. I wrote of "next time", referring to future pregnancies. I wrote of work, and I wrote of genetics appointments.

Lets start with changes in work:
My need to get away from a place that initially promised me "occasional weekend working" and "for events" only to hit me with every Saturday in December and full days, meant that I was spurred to try to apply to get into teaching again. I had a few days at home around Christmas where I put together an application and was offered interviews to 2 institutions. One on 19 January 2017, thankfully I had a midweek day off that worked for me, as I yet again had another "event" that wasn't a proper event that I had to work a weekend day for. The second on 25 January 2018, I called in sick for that one. The only time in my life I've ever been off work illegitimately. It was worth it. On 2 February 2018 I found out I had been accepted to that university to study for a "Professional Graduate Diploma in Education." (I always thought it stood for post-grad!)

19 March 2018
Another positive pregnancy test. Pregnancy number two. Hope, Joy, Dreams for the future.

We had decided to start trying again naturally, not to wait for IVF. After an appointment in December 2017 left us a bit more befuddled and distraught about our options, and we worked things out in our heads. So we tried again naturally, and hit the bullseye first try again. I knew before I took the test, knew for a while.

That pregnancy wound up lasting 10 days.

We had agreed to try the following month, and then hold off until after I had started my course. My employers had other ideas however. After my second miscarriage (which they were aware of) they tried to change my terms of employment, without my consent, and with immediate notice, to rotational 7 day working - and put me on the rota for every weekend for the foreseeable future. Obviously I fought that. It was quite helpful that I had not been given a statement of terms, or a contract. I was right. I had a few meetings with my managers, none with any notice, a few where I ended up in tears, admitting things I didn't truly believe. I was made redundant. "The business is moving towards the leisure market, and away from conference business, which is why you were taken on, and why we need to let you go." Ha! At least they gave me £1000 on top of my notice pay. I drove away that Monday morning laughing ecstatically.

Unfortunately the stress around my job, and not being able to afford to hand in notice without another job to go into, meant that we didn't really try to get pregnant that month, our half-hearted attempts resulted in a period appearing during my brief unemployment period. I managed to find a temp job relatively quickly, I hadn't told them initially that I wouldn't be staying, I was bitten too many times by employers, and didn't want to risk it. It didn't take long to start telling people there that I was leaving to study, nor did it take long to tell people the difficulties I face with conception. I almost wanted to stay, except for really wanting a more fulfilling career. I would however like to return in the summer break after my one year at uni. It turns out, that job, and my unhappiness in it, pushed me to re-applying to teaching, and moved me to a much better (albeit temporary) job, where I made some very good friends. Had that very first pregnancy worked out, I'm not sure I would have given the same effort to my application process, I'm not sure I would have been able to.

20 August 2018 I started uni.
8 September 2018 I attended my best friend's wedding, I didn't drink a lot, but probably a little more than I normally would, and realised shortly after that I was pregnant. I lost that one on 12 September 2018, my best friend's 30th birthday.
24 October 2018 and 5 December 2018 gave me two more losses. None of my four more recent pregnancies lasted long, however we were told by that geneticist back in July 2017 that given where on the chromosomes the breaks were, it was unlikely that any unbalanced possibility (besides that which we had in our first pregnancy) would make it to a positive pregnancy test. So actually knowing about them has amazed me, how quickly I find out about my pregnancies, and notice symptoms.

It's difficult to condense the previous year into a few paragraphs. My mental health has massively improved over the past year though, even with all that. I think because I have been able to come to terms with our new normal. Each loss is difficult, but I'm able to rationalise that this child, this life, was never meant to be.

Each life, when I know that it has been created, gives me joy, gives me hope. That's the hardest part of each pregnancy, it's not the loss. It's not being able to share that joy, share those dreams of a life with our family and friends. The next hardest part is that with each pregnancy it's hard not to feel disappointed, disappointed that I have to have that niggly thought at the back of my head, that I can't relax, that I must start to worry, to pay attention to every little thing and question it. I will never again feel like I did with my first pregnancy, the joy and the hope is now tangled up with fear, but with each loss, hope still wins.

With my first pregnancy, I did the done thing, I didn't tell anyone about the baby until after our 12 week scan. Except for family, who we couldn't hide it from, given they were visiting over Christmas! I then had to pull that joy back. Change that great news for the news of an altered future. Since we found out about the balanced translocation my viewpoint has changed. I want to share my joy, I want to scream it from the rooftops. I want people to know that I am growing a whole other human, and I have dreams for my future with them, for their future with siblings, for our future as a family, and for their life beyond childhood. I hope that they do not share my husband's balanced translocation, but are as lucky as my husband's sister, who is clear of it, and has her third child on the way! I have been very open about our struggles to create a family, and my husband and I discussed last year that with any future pregnancy, we would rather share our joy early. Although we know that we have a much higher risk of loss than most, we want to share that joy. There are hopes and dreams for so many miscarried babies that are never shared, I wish we didn't have to keep that grief so private, as it's such a difficult and unusual form of grief.

I wish people could share pregnancy news and it would be normal to acknowledge that there needs to be luck wished towards the pregnancy, that there was no unwritten rule to wait until 12 weeks. I wish people could share it when it suits them, and people don't question when they share it. I know a couple of people who don't like to share widely until much later than that, and those who want to share earlier but feel that they can't. I know someone who last year didn't share because she wasn't sure if the baby was going to survive, yet it was a planned for pregnancy, why should she feel fear about sharing that news? No one hides the news that their terminally ill relative/friend has only a few days/weeks/months to live, they share, and they receive emotional support. Why are so many women denied this? Why should the mothers and fathers suffer in silence?

I don't bring up my miscarriages with my friends often, I don't hide them, but I honestly have no idea which friends know about which ones. It's not exactly something you chat about during a trip to the cinema, is it?

I had another friend tell me about a pregnancy recently, due around the same sort of time as my sister-in-law. She phoned, she admitted she wasn't sure about how to tell me. I wrote about that before, in a post dated 2 June 2017, with two other friends. It's hard to know how to share happy news with someone who you know wants to be able to share the same kind of news. I wish my friends did not feel like they have to dilute their joy for me. Even my sister-in-law wasn't sure how to share the news with us. It's fantastic news, don't dilute it at all!

I'm halfway through my PGDE, I've passed the first two parts, two more to go. I am going through a course that's known to be very stressful. I have had a lot of miscarriages since I started that course. Funnily enough, the stress of each helps distract from the stress of the other.

I'm happy. I have a lot of joy in my life.