When you are trying to conceive it can feel like everyone you know or see on your Instagram feed is cradling a perfect pregnant bump. Yet for thousands of Australian women, getting pregnant is not something that just happens. It can take months or years, and the journey is not always straightforward.
In a series of stories exploring fertility, Mamamia chats to women, couples and experts about what it means to struggle to conceive.
Watch the trailer for Mamamia’s new podcast, Get Me Pregnant, where hosts Rachel Corbett and Leigh Campbell talk all things pregnancy and fertility. Post continues below.
This post deals with miscarriage and might be triggering for some readers.
It’s not your fault. But I hate you.
Not you as a person, not you with the swollen stomach and the beautiful glow. Not you who held my hand and asked me if there was anything you could do after the first, second and even third loss. Not you who I share most of my childhood memories with. Not you who I share a desk with. Not you who I politely share lunch with.
No. Not you.
I hate the you that I wish was me. I hate the reality of all that I’ve lost.
2019. The year I turned 26 (my favourite number), so therefore, of course, it was destined to be my best year yet. We were newly married, I’d been promoted and we were living our best life. Next box to be ticked: a sibling for our daughter.
Something I thought would be as simple as the first time, as easy as cooking toast in the morning.
I was naïve (I hate that girl too if it’s any consolation).
Three months into trying and I was frustrated that I was still waiting for the elusive BFP (‘Big Fat Positive’ for those of you not in the know).
And then one day, it finally came. I was away for the weekend with friends which enabled me to devise an elaborate way to tell my husband that our three was about to become four.