My name is Lisa and I am married to my lovely husband Ryan. Due to a illness since birth, Ryan experienced end stage renal failure and following a kidney transplant in 2013, we couldn’t wait for our lives to start to create our family.
In 2016 we discovered we would never fall pregnant naturally and in 2017 we started IVF treatment. In 2018 we fell pregnant on our 4th IVF attempt. After a problem-free pregnancy, following complications, I went into premature labour at 16 weeks and delivered our baby boy, Dylan, at our home.
We are about to embark on our 7th IVF attempt. We live a very content life with our beautiful dog, Teddy… We really want to bring a child into this world, but recognise that emotionally we are nearing the end of our IVF journey and are keeping our hearts and minds open to other options.
The world continues from the very second yours falls apart. Some days it really hurts that the world is carrying on in fast-forward when you really want to press rewind.
Losing a child is a unique kind of grief. It defies the natural cycle of life and therefore you never 'come to terms with it’. For a long time, your body and mind battle against one another to avoid comprehending your new reality. Seeking support from those who have experienced the same is essential to accepting that grief has no pattern, no cycle and no expiry date.
Infertility treatment is like being in a prison cell. You can see the keys hanging on the wall through the bars and with every unsuccessful attempt, it feels like the key moves further out of reach. Your fellow inmates (friends) keep working out the exit route, you cheer them on as you watch their happy lives playing out through your small cell window. You wonder if the keys will ever be in your hands, or if you are destined to take another route out.
I grieve the life I imagined sharing with our children who aren’t here. I grieve the Easter egg hunts, Christmas Eve fun and the first days at school. I grieve the sleepless nights, the childcare juggle and the nappy bills. I have mum guilt, even if you can’t see my children.
“I miss you. I really hope that in some form, you come back to us soon.”
- A message to our son Dylan, our lost embryos, and to my former self before infertility and baby loss
You can follow Lisa's journey on her Instagram, @heartache_and_cupcakes.