it’s amazing the journey your mind takes you on, flitting around, linking thoughts and memories.
As I was lying in bed last night I was thinking of my mum and a painting I am having done for us both, other random thoughts and then finally landed at the zoo. Bizarre I know.
It was 9 years ago, the Teenager was a nipper, and the 3 of us had gone to the zoo. He was really horrible to me that day, said some unpleasant things that made me cry. I cannot recall now what they were. All I can remember about that day was that I was upset, and that I was pregnant.
When I was a little girl, I was a princess. All I wanted was to marry Prince Charming at about 21 (because that was quite old enough thank you) and have kids. 2. A boy then a girl. The girl would look like me only prettier. She would have blond pigtails, blue eyes and the family nose, only cuter. And obviously she would be polite and amazingly helpful.
So 21 came and went. 31 came and went. And then I got to 34. Cancer.
I was very single, not even a sniff, so freezing embryos was not an option. As it happened even freezing my eggs was not an option as I did not have the luxury of the time taken to get to that point due the aggressiveness of my cancer. So instead, I had zoladex injected into my ovaries every month during chemo to shut them down. If chemo thought my ovaries were not alive, it would ignore them. In theory. So each month, alternate sides, I would be stabbed by the nurse. The needle used made the core biopsy needle look like a strand of angel hair…
It of course plunged me into temporary menopause. Because cancer and chemo wasn’t enough crap to go through.
After all the chemo ended, the injection was no longer needed. So we had to wait and see if my periods returned.
They did. And all was well with the world. My life continued. Until the nasty cells showed up in my cervix. It’s like a bad joke really. After several lovely and painless procedures (yes that is sarcasm), I was given the all clear and the HPV virus vaccine.
At age 39, I started dating my husband who had an 18 month little boy.
At age 41, I found myself at the zoo with them both, pregnant. My dreams coming true. The injections had worked. I was scared and excited and unbelievably happy. I had this life growing inside me. Immortalising me and hubby. A grandchild for Pops. I was walking on air.
It was undoubtedly the happiest 11 weeks of my life.
The weeks that followed – not so much. We were heartbroken. We hadn’t really told anyone so I couldn’t really turn to anyone for comfort.
Let’s face it, no one talks about miscarriage. It’s like it’s a dirty word. But as soon as you open up, you find its way more common that you would like. But those that have not experienced cannot imagine how it feels. Sorry but it’s true. So please don’t pretend.
We didn’t give up but after jumping through various hoops, trying acupuncture, herbs, magic spells, I was eventually told that I was too old for IVF and it probably wouldn’t work anyway. Having cancer made me an unacceptable risk for it being a waste of funds. Thanks.
Also turns out the particular vaccine I was given has since been tenuously linked to infertility and on occasion, death. Joy.
So the door was slammed in my face never again to open.
It’s a hurt that will never fade. I dream about my child sometimes. Sometimes he appears as a boy, sometimes as a girl. With pigtails and a cute nose.
People tell me I’m lucky to be alive and I should be grateful.
Bite me. Jog on. Whatever.
Of course I know all that, but having cancer doesn’t mean you stop wanting it all. Why should it?
Oh and for those who suggested I married because he had a child and I couldn’t? This is why you are not in my life anymore.
I do have a child. He is a teenager. He smells and is stroppy and lazy and does my head in on a regular basis. He calls me mum. Because I am his mum. And he is my child. And we love each other unconditionally.
I also have fur babies who I also love unconditionally. Them, not so much….
So yes I am lucky, very lucky. And long May it continue.
