If you’re looking for advice about options surrounding fertility, pregnancy or counselling, always consult your doctor.
I’m not going to pretend any more that it doesn’t hurt. I’m not going to pretend any more and be all, “yeh gurlfriend im ok” or #brave with Mother’s Day rolling around this year because the reality is, I’m not okay. It freaking hurts.
I’m tired of being okay about it. I’m tired and totally over the act I put on when I’m with my mates and playing with their kids. It’s freaking HARD sometimes.
I’d like to hide this Mothers Day. I’d like to run away to the hills with my phone off and not see any beautiful “Mother’s Day lunch” family shots all over facey that make my stomach lurch.
Please don’t see this as an “I’m bagging out happy families on Mother’s Day cos I’m clearly an asshole” article, okay? Please just see this as the mini-rant. I am simply getting off my chest on behalf of many women who secretly (and some not so secretly) feel the same way I do.
Some women just want to know they are not alone. You are not, my dear, childless pals. You are not.
Even being asked to write this article (although I'm deeply passionate about sharing my story and always have been especially when it's about helping others feel less alone by sharing my own shoddy shit) made my skin crawl because yet again it's another reminder of another shitty year.
I had a dysfunctional relationship with a guy who didn't really care much about being a dad and there's me, wondering how long I'm going hang on and flog this dead horse, blindly believing that he wanted a family as much as me.
Mother's Day is a stark reminder that I pathetically held onto a relationship with someone who wasn't - and I quote - "that fussed" to be a parent. Hey, at least he was honest!?! It's a big, fat, bitter pill I have to swallow because no-one made me stay. I guess blind hope made me stay, on top of a fairly healthy dose of low self-esteem and perhaps insanity and a huge amount of naivety.
Sure we did a zillion rounds of IVF and I used all my savings, but hey, we did what we had to.
There were times when I think we both really believed that this was what we wanted and love kept us holding on - by a thread - as did alcohol and Game of Thrones, but that's another story.
So here I am, staring down the barrel of another Mothers Day not being a mum and with my 43rd birthday looming. It ain't looking so good.
Don't throw me a pity party just yet (but if you do can it be a Frozen party!?) as we have two frozen embryos that we may use this year after my laparoscopy - I have endometriosis that needs some of that fun scraping stuff done. Can't wait! So the reality is that I'm still a good six months from popping either of those suckers back in and so God knows what the old universe has in store for me as far as being a mum goes.
But you never know, right?
Another piece of painful 'irony' this Mother's Day is that this Sunday my beautiful mumma (whom I rarely see as she lives in Vietnam) has asked me to walk in the Mother's Day Classic with her, the same walk I hosted and walked when I lived in Wollongong for six years in 2010 and was actually pregnant. I'll never forget the smug little feeling deep inside myself as I walked through the sea of mums and little babies in prams and thought, "I'm one of them now. I'm a mummy too! By this time next year it will be ME pushing a trendy pram with my cute man beside me, bringing me coffee like all these cute dads are.
Only it wasn't and I wasn't and that was the first of a few miscarriages. My heart broke in ways that can't be repaired that year.
So this Mother's Day I'll be liking all your beautiful #bestmumever pics and I'll feel my heart swell when I see your touching photos. I mean that with all my heart. But my heart will also be cracking just a little bit more, right down the centre, where the love of my own little one was meant to be.
Maybe next Mother's Day I'll be pregnant again.
I'm actually a hopeful little monkey so wish me luck. This uterus ain't giving up just yet!
Mamamia's Infertility Week shines a light on the joy, the pain and everything in between when it comes to creating families. To read more from Infertility Week, click here.