My whole life, I’ve wanted to be a mother. In my year 12 yearbook, under ‘What I want to achieve’, I listed “to have 2.3 children, a Labrador and a white picket fence”. Life doesn’t always turn out how you plan it. In 2007, I lost twins. I started to believe that I would never have a child. I wanted it so badly; I started to think it would always be just a dream. I had failed at marriage. I had failed at pregnancy. Everything I had dreamed of, had hoped for, had failed.
Then, out of nowhere, three months into a relationship, with my now husband, I saw those two pink lines again. I was pregnant. I’ll be honest; I never actually believed a baby would come from it. I had very little faith. When I talked about it, with my partner, I felt like I was playing ‘make believe’. This was never going to happen. Because I believed once, and look what happened then? All the doctors kept telling me how ‘high risk’ this was. I was an insulin dependent diabetic and the pregnancy had been unplanned.
Everyone was getting so excited, and I wanted to tell them to shut up. This wasn’t going to happen. Stop talking about this as if it was real. Every scan we went to, I waited for them to tell me that, ‘Unfortunately, there is no heartbeat’. Those words echoed through my head, as I would sit in the waiting room, and wait for the inevitable. Yet they never said that. Every time, I would see that heartbeat, and think, ‘Wow! We dodged another bullet’. I can’t imagine what it must feel like, to go to a scan, and my biggest worry is, ‘is it a girl or a boy?’ The only thought I ever had, was ‘Please be alive’.