It’s taken me a while to write this next blog for many reasons, one being the obvious in that both my hands are now full with two gorgeous babies and the second being that I’ve not really known how to articulate the feelings I’ve had these past few weeks.  

When I first set eyes on Blair and Mason, it really was love at first sight. Their tiny little squeals and cries warmed my heart instantly, and I knew in that moment that everything was going to be okay.

My birth experience was simply perfect, starting my motherhood journey off with the happiest of memories. The days that followed in the hospital were again perfect, made so special with the support and care of the midwives on duty. I was on cloud 9 and in this little un-burstable bubble with my new family, the family I had only dared to dream off previously but was now my reality.

Since being home, I’ve soaked up all the newborn kisses and cuddles alongside the countless dirty nappy changes, cries for food and just because and the many, many sleepless nights that has seen us both hallucinating! It really has been everything I expected and more… simply put, it’s been magical.

However, I’d be lying if I said it’s been easy. It hasn’t. In fact, there have been some days where I’ve questioned whether I am capable of being the best mummy to our babies or the best wife to my husband.

Like any new mum, I experienced a huge crash of emotions on around day four postpartum. At first, I found myself crying for no other reason than the fact I was simply incredibly happy and couldn’t fathom the love I feel for my babies. I would literally sit in bed whilst nursing my babies in the middle of the night, sobbing my heart out because I just couldn’t quite believe they were here.

As the days went on, the reason for my tears changed from happiness to sadness. Despite having two newborns and a caring husband, I felt incredibly isolated and lonely. I felt like I was grieving something, but I didn’t really know what. I was stressed and naturally, I was exhausted. But sad? I couldn’t quite understand that emotion. It felt very complicated and complex, and it still does.

After reaching out to a forum of women connected by IVF and loss, I realised that it was the past two years of my life I was grieving, and my pregnancy. I’ve spent two years on high alert, relying on my adrenaline to keep me going through incredibly tough times. I never allowed myself a break, it was always one treatment plan after another. Anything to make a pregnancy and live birth possible. Many investigations, multiple treatments, hundreds (and I mean hundreds) of injections and medications and all admits a global pandemic. I gave my body over to IVF and I was always on, searching for answers, solutions, and miracles. Even with my pregnancy, I never allowed myself to fully enjoy it because I was so scared of something going wrong. It was only towards the end that I truly started to believe that things would be okay, and I genuinely fell in love with my bump and the daily kicks that would keep me awake at night wondering who my two babies would be.

And then it was over, just like that…

That (huge) chapter of my life, the chapter of infertility and IVF, is finished with (for now). No more prodding and poking, trips to the clinic for repeated beta blood tests. No more avoiding friends and family events or engagements. No more hiding away or holding my breath because I made it through to the other end. Realising that and believing that has, for me, been overwhelming. The fact I can look back at the past two years of my life and say wow, I survived the worst and have the greatest gift of all in my twins is truly so special.  

Whilst the past two years has been traumatic in many ways, it led me to today…

Over the rainbow, with my precious Blair & Mason in my arms.

xx