Squeak

My darling baby is here.

My miracle rainbow baby. He is curled up next to me asleep.

He came into this world not without dramas. ( as if making me wait over 4 years wasn’t enough ) Some hostile antibodies from my body crossed the placenta and proceeded to attack him causing severe anaemia.

He spent 6 nights under phototherapy lights, endured too many blood tests to count and had to be readmitted into hospital for a blood transfusion at 1 month old.

He then had further weekly blood tests for another month but is now happy and healthy.

Every day I thank my lucky stars he is here. The days where  I don’t get a wink of sleep, the days where I’m covered in vomit, the days his squeaky cry is all I seem to hear.

I know women who would give anything to have these experiences.

Infertility is something that changes you. It leaves an invisible mark on your heart.

Its a trauma that doesn’t leave once it is over.

I haven’t forgotten the pain, the hollowness or the constant fight to keep bitterness at bay.

I haven’t forgotten the angry tears, the My whore of a period is here tears, or the embarrassed tears, the our treatments failed again tears, the how are we going to afford more fertility treatment tears or the why the hell can’t it be my turn tears.

I’m one of the lucky ones. I got my miracle, but I haven’t forgotten about my sisters suffering in silence. I haven’t forgotten how it feels.I haven’t forgotten you and I never will. Although I know it feels it, you aren’t walking alone x