It was only 6 months ago that we made the decision to share our journey with 2 of our closest friends, a couple who, as it turns out, had been going through a journey very similar to us.
After years of keeping it private with just my husband, it was such a relief to finally share all of these thoughts and experiences with a lovely friend, and with someone who fundamentally understood all the tears, the concerns, the hopes and the exhaustion of it all. And since talking to that couple, I’ve gone and shared my IVF story with just 6 other people – 2 close friends and our parents. And now, you…
Having them know has been a huge help to me, but I couldn’t have told them before now. I wanted it to be private. I needed it to be. There’s so much information to process when you’re going through all of this, that my own little head and heart couldn’t have coped with having to explain it to others, too. I needed time and space to get my head around what was going on, what my body was going through, the drugs, the injections, the statistics – the whole thing. For me, it was only after my 4th miscarriage, that I felt it was the right time to tell our parents and select friends everything that had been going on. And they were all, as expected, amazing about it. They listened, they asked questions, they hugged and they supported. I never had any doubt that they would, but I was now in a good position to help them understand without draining myself at the same time.
Out of the 3 friends I’ve told, all have had miscarriages and 2 have been through the trials of IVF cycles. I realise how lucky I am to be able to receive advice and talk through experiences with people I love and care for, but that’s not everyone’s situation. Some people are surrounded by friends who’ve never been on this journey – lovely, caring friends, but friends who can’t understand no matter how much they may want to. And other women and couples just feel terribly alone with it all, and that’s a horrible feeling to have. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel like they were on their own, so that’s what I’d like to do a little here on The Bumble: treat you like a friend. I’m probably gonna moan and tell you my tales of woe (heads up, sorry!), but hopefully give you hope too. I’m not gonna preach or strongly advocate particular ways of doing things (there are too many schools of though out there for even the doctors to agree on, let alone me).
I’m just going to talk like you’re a friend, and be here as a shoulder to lean on if you ever need one. x