Its good to talk!

3rd June 2013 - the day after our miscarriage. The "what next" day! The day that built and broke relationships. The day I decided I needed someone to talk to! Someone that understood and someone that wasn't emotionally invested in us.

News of our miscarriage had spread quickly through our close family and friends. Over the next few days we had visitors coming and going, some who didnt really know what to say or do to help and some who were able to give exactly what we needed.

Everyone is different and how we cope is different. No one is right or wrong in the way they do it but for us, laughing and joking and being treated normally was all we wanted.

I understood how difficult it was for those who love us to watch us go through our version of hell and it must have been very difficult to know what to say but I think some people worried more about how they felt about it than how we did. It was always so much harder for us believe me.

That said, we were so lucky to have the people around us that we did. When the first few days were past and life went on, the visits and the messages stopped but there were always that special few who stuck around and we will always be grateful for that. I hope they know how much that meant to us.

I had taken some time off work and we decided the best thing we could do was get away for a few days. We booked a weekend in Liverpool to give us something to look forward to (worst idea ever - got there and realised we should've stayed home - spent 3 days being miserable and hating every minute - also lost my favourite jacket in the loos in Debenhams)!

The night before we left we had a visit from my brother and sister-in-law. I could tell something was going on from the minute they walked in. I think I knew what was coming but the words took my breath away just the same.

I was going to be an aunty!

It must have been awful for them.  Split between being over the moon for themselves and dreading telling us at the same time! The timing was horrific! But I was going to be an Aunty and I couldn't have been happier for them.

In a way I thought that was the next best thing to being a mummy and at least I would have this wee bean to love forever no matter what happened to us. I was so grateful to them for that.

The physical aftermath of the IVF and miscarriage wasn't too bad. For me, once the bleeding had stopped a week or so later, I was back to normal.

The emotional side was a different matter altogether. At this point, I decided to make an appointment with the Counsellor at our clinic. We could try again with our IVF in 3 months time but I knew I needed to speak to someone in the meantime.

The first time we met Anne I had a feeling she was going to change my life forever. And she did.

On the drive up to see her, I had cold feet! What if I ran out of stuff to say or the thoughts in my head were all ridiculous. Adam isn't good at talking about emotions at the best of times but with a stranger, he would be worse and I would have to talk more to make up for it.

I shouldn't have worried.

Our session went past so fast. I honestly could have talked with her all day.  She validated my thoughts and feelings, helped me look at things in a more positive way, and by small mercies even got Adam to open up!

I remember one session a few years down the line where he said something about wanting to be a dad and it was the first time in all that had gone on that I realised he wanted this too! He wasn't just doing this for me. He was hurting just as much as I was and selfish as it sounds, this only just occurred to me at that exact time!

People often texted and asked how I was, people sent flowers for me, rarely people asked how Adam felt. If he was ok?

During our time at the fertility clinic, we saw Anne regularly and to be honest, no one understands and knows exactly what we have been through more than she does. Even now, we keep in touch. We have spoken about our current battle with secondary infertility. We have spoken about stuff that's outwith her remit and I don't know how we would have gotten through everything without her.

She saved my life. And probably my marriage!

Infertility is a lonely journey.  It affects your everyday life beyond words. It affects your relationship no matter how strong you are or how much you share that goal. Your body almost becomes public property which has an effect on your ability to be intimate. Money can become an issue. It takes work and the things that used to come naturally become more and more forced the more focussed on getting pregnant you become. It doesn't surprise me at all that this pulls so many couples apart but I truly believe that our counselling sessions were the key to keeping us together.

It is hard for friends and family to watch you go through this stuff, its hard for partners to know how to deal with it, but the important thing is to remember, your friend, sister, brother, whoever they are to you just need you to be normal with them, give them love and empathy but don't treat them differently, they already feel lonely enough. Don't exclude them from things cos you think it might hurt them - it probably will but let them decide and don't be offended if they say no!

After our first session with Anne, we went to the garden centre and bought a beautiful sunseeker rose bush. We picked a pot and took it home as a little memorial for what we had lost. I wrote a letter to my baby. In it, I poured my heart and soul and all the love I would have given it had my pregnancy continued and then I sealed it in an envelope and keep it safe to this day.

I felt like I had some closure on this chapter in our life and could finally look forward again.

Our miscarriage was just like any other loss, you grieve, you get angry, you feel hard done by and then you start to move on. The pain stays but it lessens. People move on and forget but you don't. You just learn to live with it.

The planting of the tree and writing the letter let me put those feelings to bed and look towards the future.

Having someone to talk to who didn't judge, someone who let me say those things out loud so I could process them and someone who taught me that the best thing you can do is talk was by far the best thing that could have happened to me and is the best advice I could give to anyone going through the same.