To the world, it was a photo of a glass of wine. To those who knew her, it was a sign of heartbreak.

To the world it was a Friday night ritual.

Image supplied.

The sign of the end of a long week of work, the opportunity to relax and to concentrate on what the weekend has in stall for you. To forget your troubles, unwind and a massive cheers to the weekend. Being surrounded by family and friends, enjoying good wine and food, it really was a way of showing the world, how fabulous you were and of course how fabulous your life was. Everyone wanted to be in that situation, not a care in the world. It would appear from looking in from the outside that life was perfect. A happy family.

To the social media world, it was there to be loved or liked. The highlights of our lives, all positive of course! A single image, there were no words to describe the meaning of this image which was posted on a social media account on a Friday night. Very much open to interpretation. A pink champagne in a fancy glass on a stunning table, love, love, love, love went the double taps, a blur in their mind as they scrolled to the next image. Someone is enjoying life! The bubbles fizzing, capturing the hearts of many. Celebrating? Perhaps. Unwinding and relaxing? Definitely! This image looked appealing to so many friends, but it was what the image didn’t say, it was what the image stood for that went unnoticed by many.

Image supplied.

For those in her inner circle, it was the sign that nobody wanted to see. It was the end of another grueling IVF cycle with a negative ending. This time the picture said a thousand words. To those in her inner circle, the image was full of heartbreak, glassy eyes filled with tears that were being forced to remain a thought and a feeling of numbness that felt like it would never go away. It was the message she couldn’t force herself to send. If she sent messages, she would have to think about it and if she had to think about it, she wouldn’t be able to keep it together, she was afraid that once she started crying, her tears would never stop flowing. She had to prove to herself and those around her that she was strong, she could handle this. She had been through this on so many other occasions, she was starting to lose count how many times she had heard ‘unfortunately your result is negative this time round’, as she choked back tears, thanking the nurse for everything.


To her, it symbolised so much more. It was the proof that she had heard her result correctly just a short time before. For somebody that only consumed alcohol occasionally, it was her way of making this real. If she could drink, she wasn’t pregnant. The hopes and dreams that had been carrying around with her for the last couple of months were shattered on the ground beneath her and with every breath, she was attempting to avoid the broken shards that she could feel surrounding her. It was her escape, that if on the outside, she created a strong brick facade and she told herself over and over again that everything would be ok, she would start to believe it. Surely a forced smile would eventually result in a smile? If she could just fool people, she could trick herself into believing life was perfect. She could pretend that she could handle anything that was flung her way. She could mistake the pregnancy symptoms caused by her medication as a side effect of consuming alcohol. She could look at the glass half full.

Deb Knight shares her IVF story. Post continues below...

As she matched her perfect pink champagne with her honey drizzled brie, and looked at the two most loveliest humans across from her, her husband and son, she knew that the smile that escaped her face, was not forced, it was not fake, it was a sign of genuine love and although she wanted more from life, she knew that with these two incredible people by her side, she would be more than fine. Yes, her heart was breaking, yes she knew that she was the luckiest person in the world for even being able to have a child and to have the world of Science to assist in this and although nobody knew what laid ahead for her, all that she knew was that she would forever hold her son that extra bit tighter and for that extra bit longer, every time their paths crossed. And although her sadness couldn’t be erased, she knew that it would fade and it would get easier because just like Pink Champagne, we all lose our bubbles sometimes.

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