Mammy Guilt

Mammy guilts are the worst. I take my hat off to working Mammy’s, it must be so tough to be away from your children every day. I count myself as very lucky and although I am a working mother, I only work 27 hours a week, 10 to 4 Monday to Thursday and I finish early on Friday, so I can do the school pickups. I am blessed that I can drop my kids to school every morning, enjoying a dance and a sing on the way and watch them as they run happily into school.

I put in a few tough weeks, it doesn’t happen often, but it made me think and appreciate how lucky I really am. Some nights it’s been 7pm when I was get home, dark outside and really cold and so tired after a long and stressful day. I get into my nice warm house and I am welcomed with hugs. Then its straight upstairs to get my clothes off and wash my face and I snuggle in on the couch with the boys and Sean for loads of hugs and kisses. The little time we have together on those long days before the bedtime march is precious. Then Nathans ears began to heat up and get red and Jacob starts to wilt, and you know it’s time for bed.

Sometimes we take for granted our little people and we dwell on the all the stuff they do to annoy us. I don’t know about you but there are times when I am sick of listening to my own voice. Stop doing that, get dressed, eat your dinner, stop fighting, stop killing each other and so on. I get so caught up on how busy I am, where the kids have to go today, is the house clean, how much washing I have to get done and how tired I am.

There is always someone out there worse off. I have the freedom of the evenings and the leisure of getting ready in the mornings. There are Mammy’s and Daddy’s out there who leave early in the mornings and don’t get home until their little ones are ready for bed or sometimes asleep. I don’t know how you do it. You are amazing.

I have a friend who made a choice to change career from a few hours a week to a commitment of shift work, long hours, a tasking job and all for the sake of her family, her kids and a better life. How hard it must have been to make that decision, the guilt and the torment of “Am I doing the right thing”. Well I think you are amazing and I commend you. I know its not easy being away from your kids but in order to get the things you need and want in life, sacrifices have to be made. I also think the time spent with your family is more precious and you cherish it more. Kids are so resilient, and they adjust well to change. As long as they know they are loved, that’s all that matters.

Mammy guilts are the worst, I can’t speak for Daddy’s because I am not one, but I feel the Mammy guilts all the time. After a long day or a stressful occurrence, it’s our loved ones that suffer the most. I know myself when I am stressed or upset I don’t have the same patience. Or when I am trying to concentrate on something important I am not always present. At night time in our house there are stories, songs and enough cuddles for a year. However, when it becomes late, and monkeys start messing and not getting into their beds or whinging, my patience slowly disappears. Sometimes I snap and shout to get back into bed or go to sleep and as I walk out of the room Mammy guilt sets in and I don’t want my cross voice to be the last thing they hear before going to sleep. I creep back into the room for more kisses and cuddles, a few I Love You’s and Goodnight.

Another example of Mammy guilts is on the way to school and your 5 year old gets upset about something totally irrational, like he has my bottle and I wanted that bottle…….. He starts to whimper and cry and before you know it you are at the school. You don’t want to send him into school upset so it’s cuddles behind the car door in case anyone see’s you hugging him and his street cred is ruined. You wipe his eyes and kiss him on the cheek. He wipes it off and says ughhh because you are in public. You try to say something funny to make him smile and if that doesn’t work you accidently hurt yourself off the car door. Hurting yourself usually gets a giggle. As he runs into school your heart breaks just a little because you just wish you could have cuddled him all day until he was ok again. Mammy guilts – who’s idea were these, who invented them?

Well I wish all the Mammy’s out there a Mammy guilt free day. Take a day to yourself. Kiss your children on the cheek and tell them you love them and go do something that makes you feel good. You need it to reboot the batteries and I promise the guilt will still be there when you get back. Be kind to yourself x ……………………….

To be continued

Twin Territory

Since my last post I was back up to see my consultant in Neo Fertility and I am back on hormones and medication. The meeting in Neo Fertility went really well. I was so nervous and wasn’t sure how I would take to the new consultant as I found the last one very cold and not invested, she made me feel like I was just a number and I felt rushed at every appointment. For the cost of the appointment and the importance of the information being discussed I would at the very least expected to feel heard and receive some compassion.

I met with Dr. Boyle and he went through my charting, what happened over the summer and my recent HSG scan. I explained that I came off medication for the summer as I believed my tubes were blocked and there was no point. He was very kind and understanding and full of encouragement. He asked how I was coping with the process mentally and I thought this was a nice touch. He discussed timelines to stick to the plan and went through different methods I could use to decrease or break down my adhesions and scar tissue, which might be beneficial.

Then it was down to the serious business, the medication. After reviewing my charts, he said that I wasn’t reacting to the lower dose of medication. This was not surprising to me as I felt all along that my doses needed to be increased. I only had one good month after an increase from 10 letrozole to 14. Taking this into consideration my dose was increased to 21, which was 7 tablets on days 3, 4 and 5 of my cycle. This was putting me into twin territory, a small chance but a chance all the same.

He also increased my HCG/pregnol injection on day 14 from 10,000 units to 15,000 units. My doses on days 3, 5 and 7, after my peak day, were also increased from 2,500 units to 5,000 units per day. The letrozole is to encourage the growth of a large follicle, being on this high dose may produce two large follicles, hence the chance of twins. The HCG on day 14 is to help rupture the follicle and release the egg. On peak plus 3, 5 and 7 the same injection is used to increase progesterone levels, which need to be at a certain level for the fertilised egg to attach itself to the womb and to not miscarry.

I am also taking cyclogest from peak plus 3 for 10 days and oestrogen for the same days. Throughout each cycle I have to take metformin, folate, vitamin D and also thybon. The Thybon is new and he prescribed it to me as I felt with all the exercise and trying to eat healthy I wasn’t getting anywhere. He asked if I cold all the time and if I felt hard done by with my efforts and said that my metabolism was probably very low and this would help give it a kick start. I was very excited about this, it’s so frustrating putting all the effort in and feeling like you’re not getting anywhere.

I left feeling hopeful and excited about trying for a baby again. In the past I got so worked up and consumed with the mechanical and scientific side of things I forgot about all the fun that can be had in the meantime. I was inconsolable every month when my periods came, and it took me days to recover. This time, after speaking with Dr. Boyle, I am going to use the time until we get pregnant to enjoy the baby making process and to become closer with Sean. If we take the stress out of the situation it might help our bodies relax.

I filled my prescription in the days that followed. I started on the metformin, folate, vitamin D and thybon straight away and waited for my periods to come to take the letrozole. A week into taking the meds I felt great and thought my body adjusted well. The metformin upset my tummy in the past, so I was relieved it didn’t happen this time. However, my relief was short lived and after taking the hormones my tummy turned. I don’t know if it was the hormones or a bug, but I was sick with diarrhoea for days. My mood also changed but I can’t really describe how I felt. I wasn’t bouncing around, I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t grumpy, I was just mwah!!! Like the emoji.

In the coming days I have to go for follicle tracking and this should give me an indication of how the medication is preforming. I will know after this scan how many eggs are going to rupture and what sizes they are, if there are more than one.

I mentioned in my last post about not knowing how I felt about IVF and not knowing if it was something I was willing to consider. I don’t want this statement to be taken out of context or to seem harsh in anyway. It was merely meant that I have been through nearly three years of trying, both naturally and with the aid of hormones. I am lucky to already have two beautiful boys and I am sure that if I had no children when I started this process I would have jumped at the chance, but now, having been through the mental and emotional strain of this process, I would not be in the right frame of mind to make the leap to IVF. I suffered really badly with post-natal depression, which manifested into anxiety and OCD. Not being able to control things has been a huge issue for me. Making a commitment to IVF would be a huge step with no guarantee and it’s not a decision I could make lightly.

I understand the overwhelming urge to have children, and I understand the need your body as a woman feels to carry a child and to be a mother. It is not fair when you are faced with difficulties trying to conceive, when you know that you would love that child with every ounce of your being. Just know that you are an amazing person and through whatever means you decide to try, you are doing what’s right for you. I wish you every happiness and hope that you and I will both get what we desire in the end. Keep your head up and your heart filled with love……………………….

To be continued


Jacob’s Worst Day Ever

Today was a normal day in the Heavey household. There were a few times that I had to raise my voice, for instance, “get dressed”, “put your shoes on”, “put your jumper on”, “get out of your uniform”, “go back upstairs and put skins under your shorts”, “stop blowing that bloody tin whistle”. But in our house this is normal, voices have to be raised once you have asked your children to do something 10 times or more and they are continuing to ignore you. Nathan has selective hearing, definitely a trait from his Daddy 😂 and Jacob is as stubborn as the day is long.

However, as Jacob describes it best, “It was his worst day ever”!!! On route to school this morning Halloween costumes were being discussed. Poor Jacob couldn’t make up his mind, he changes costumes in the evenings 5/6 times, his imagination runs away with him. He knew he wanted a new one and that he would possibly choose Wolverine – a Marvel Avengers character. He then decided he wanted the costume at that very moment. Not possible, I tried to explain, we are on our way to school. “Can you get it on your way home from work Mammy?” was the next question. I replied “no baby, I wouldn’t make the shops in time”. That’s when his world began to end.

He started to cry and got really upset. I tried to explain to him again and if he was really good I would get it for him at the weekend. What you don’t know about Jacob is how dramatic he is, everything is drama. I swear if he doesn’t make me millions in Hollywood, I’ll be disappointed. He was devastated, I was the worst Mammy ever. He wouldn’t get out of the car at school and he wanted it now!! At this stage I was beginning to get annoyed and of course I did what every good Mammy would do, I tried to reason with the little people “you have one chance now to stop that silly crying or you’ll get no costume. Do you think money grows on trees? You are too spoilt and you have to be good to get treats. Keep it up now and you’ll get nothing……….” and so on and so on? 

It’s the crying that gets me. I wouldn’t mind if they were hurt tears or real tears but with Jacob this morning it was a tantrum. It’s the whaling and screaming at high pitches. He decided to get out of the car and with some cuddles and a pep talk bounced into school with a smile on his face, while I was left sweating and up to 90 after his performance.

I picked the boys up from the Childminders after work and came home. They were fed so no need to worry about dinner. They played outside and Nathan got ready for football. When Nathan left I brought Jacob down to the shop to get something for my dinner but nothing took my fancy. I was getting “Hangry”. Home again and back outside while I chatted to one of neighbors. All was rosy until it wasn’t. He fell over!!!

When my kids get hurt, they don’t take it in their stride, they don’t calmly come get me to tell me their woes, they scream as if they have been hit by a train, car, bus and everything else that moves. He ran to me limping, trying to pull up his skins to show me the tiniest scratch on his leg. “It’s bleeding Mammy, it’s bleeding”. “No sweetheart it’s not, it’s just a scratch”, I replied. He jumped into my arms, his arms wrapped around my neck, dangling from me because; one I wasn’t ready and two he couldn’t wrap his leg around me because it was too sore. I asked what happened and through screams and tears he told me he fell over the path. “I wish I never fell Mammy, I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s stinging, it’s stinging”. 

I brought him inside and tried to get his clothes off for a bath. Of course he screamed and didn’t want his clothes off. “It’s bleeding Mammy, don’t take off my clothes, you’ll touch my leg. I can’t straighten it, I can’t walk”. I carried him up the stairs in my arms and ran a bath. All the while he screamed some more, “I’m not getting into the bath, I can’t put my leg in, just rub it Mammy, do it gentle, not too hard, ahhhhhhhhh”!!! I placed him in the bath and at this stage he was sweating from the drama of the knee. I washed his hair while he held his leg tight to his body and continued to cry. Mind you there were no tears. That’s when he told me it was his worst day ever. 

I lifted him out of the bath, he had his sore leg tight to his body while his other leg trailed behind. I wrapped him in a towel and he said don’t let the towel touch me as he limped into his bedroom and told me he could only walk slow. I asked him how he was going to play football in school tomorrow and his answer was he can’t, his legs too sore. I proceeded to dry him and he told me he couldn’t lift his arms. Why? I asked. “Because”. I sat him on my knee singing to him as I dried his hair. His eyes were rolling and the crys were starting to subside. The odd moan or scream would pop up but silence was resuming. Once I had his hair dried, I laid him into my chest and stuck his blankie under his neck. Cuddled into me, swaddled in this towel, I sang his favourite songs. He fell asleep. 

How could you be annoyed with this cute little face. He was exhausted from all of the drama and the tiny cut on his leg. I continued to sing and hum and placed him on his pillow. I dressed his bottom half and covered him up and it was all over. Calm had been restored………..,,,

To be continued

Wrong Hospital Equipment

On Wednesday, I had an appointment with my Gynaecologist in the hospital for a repeat HSG scan. If you have read my earlier blogs you will know that I had this test in November. Thankfully back then, my tubes were patent, which means no blockages, so I had something to work towards. However, something has happened in the meantime to block them, as during my laparoscopy there was no spillage of die into my abdomen. My doctor later told me where she would normally use 10ml of die, but she used 50ml on me and no luck.

I have been living for Wednesday’s appointment all summer. I tried to relax and take my mind off things and just enjoy the summer, which was harder than it sounds. I haven’t slept a night since my procedure on the 30th of June. I have noticed my anxiety going through the roof and my moods along with it. I have tried to keep on top of it but somethings trigger anxiety and there is no quick solution of reversing it. I have spent the summer convincing myself that two children is plenty. Going through all the negatives of having another baby and really trying to convince my head to be practical. But the heart wants, what the heart wants.

Sean and I made our way to the hospital Wednesday morning, trying to laugh and joke in the car. Either way I was going to find out for sure one way or the other, so I thought! We checked in at the X-ray Department and waited for my doctor to come down to me. About 40 minutes later I was brought into the changing room and told to put the gown on, that my doctor was on her way down. I got up onto the bed and waited nervously. She bustled into the room from ICU up to 90 and she started to prepare for the procedure. I knew what to expect. It wasn’t going to be pleasant.

It took her a few minutes to remember who I was and then she was in full patient mode and trying to explain what was to come and that she would need to have a think about what to do next depending on the results. I just wanted to get it over with. Up my legs went and she inserted the catheter into my womb. The die was then injected into the catheter and the cramping came and went. I could see the screen and my womb filled with die. She seemed to be getting frustrated and said that she was going to have to try the whole thing again.

There was no spillage from the first attempt and I can remember from the last scan clearly seeing the die spilling out from my womb into my tubes and into my abdomen. She blamed the catheter and asked the girl attending to see if there were any other ones that she could use. They had recently changed their equipment and these were not up to her standard. The process started again and the die was injected into the catheter for a second time.

Again, no spillage. I feared this outcome but it wasn’t the end. She asked me to come back again next cycle for the same procedure, giving them time to get the right equipment. She said that she thought there may have been some small spillage from the left side but she couldn’t be sure. Sean took this optimistically and firmly believes that there is a chance it’s just the equipment. Me, not so much. I understand that she was not happy with the catheter but I saw the die so in my womb, I felt it come out of me afterwards. So why didn’t it spill. The worst part of it is the torture of another month of waiting. Another month of anxiety, another month of tears and no sleep.

I want to believe that the outcome will be positive, I want to believe that I will hold my baby someday. I pray and believe that everything happens for a reason. I know that God has a plan for all of us and we just don’t know what the plans are yet but it’s just hard day to day to stay positive and put my trust in the higher powers.

A very good friend sent me this to me a few weeks ago and I am going to try concentrate on accomplishing this over the next few weeks and forever. Family is the most important thing and life is too short. So hopefully with the love and support from my family and from my faith I will find a way to manage my anxiety and pain and just enjoy what I have and the life that Sean and I have built. I know it sounds cliché but in these times of crisis and pain I have really seen our marriage go from strength to strength and I can truly say that I am with the love of my life and who I am meant to be with for the rest of my days……………………………..


A gentle reminder from Pope Francis to slow down and just embrace your life.

This life will go by fast.

Don’t fight with people, don’t criticize your body so much, don’t complain so much.

Don’t lose sleep over your bills. Look for the person that makes you happy. If you make a mistake, let it go and keep seeking your happiness.

Never stop being a good parent. Don’t worry so much about buying luxuries and comforts for your home, and don’t kill yourself trying to leave an inheritance for your family. Those benefits should be earned by each person, so don’t dedicate yourself to accumulating money.

Enjoy, travel, enjoy your journeys, see new places, give yourself the pleasures you deserve. Allow dogs to get closer. Don’t put away the fine glassware. Utilize the new dinnerware; don’t save your favourite perfume, use it to go out with yourself; wear out your favourite sport shoes; repeat your favourite clothes.

So, what? That’s not bad. Why not now? Why not pray now instead of waiting until before you sleep? Why not call now? Why not forgive now? We wait so long for Christmas; for Friday; for Reunions; for another year; for when I have money; for love to come; when everything is perfect…look…

Everything perfect doesn’t exist. Human beings can’t accomplish this because it simply was not intended to be completed here. Here is an opportunity to learn.

So, take this challenge that is life and do it now…love more, forgive more, embrace more, love more intensely and leave the rest in God’s hands. Amen.

To be continued

Buttermilk Pancakes


  • 350g/12oz Self Raising Flour
  • 1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
  • ½ tsp Salt
  • 2 tbsp caster sugar
  • 2 Egg
  • 85g/3oz unsalted butter
  • 300ml/½pt Buttermilk
  • 300ml/ ½ pt Semi-Skimmed milk
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • Butter for frying



  1. In a bowl, sift together the flour, bicarbonate of soda, salt and sugar.
  2. In a separate bowl or jug, mix together the buttermilk, milk, eggs and butter. Pour the wet mixture into the dry and stir to combine. Do not overbeat – stir just to combine.
  3. Melt a small knob of butter in a large frying pan. Using a ladle, pour some batter into the pan to make a pancake. With Buttermilk Panckes I always pour a thicker pancake compared to the traditional ones. Depending on the size of your pan, you may be able to make more than one pancake at a time, or if you are confident you can use two pans at the same time.
  4. Cook the pancakes for about a minute, or until the underside is golden-brown and the top is bubbling. Then turn them over using a palette knife or fish slice and cook for another minute. Keep the pancakes warm in a very low oven while you cook the remaining batter.


Serving Suggestions

  • Drizzle with Honey or Maple Syrup
  • Fresh fruit
  • Butter

Traditional Pancakes


  • 250g/4oz Cream Plain Flour
  • Pinch of Salt
  • 2 Egg
  • 600ml/ 1pt Milk
  • Oil for frying



  1. Sieve flour and salt into a bowl.
  2. Make a well in the centre of the flour, break in the egg and add about a third of the milk. Beat well, gradually pouring in the rest of the milk and drawing in the flour to make a smooth batter. I use a handle held mixer to mix the batter and I sieve once I am finished to make sure there are no lumps left.
  3. Pour batter into a jug and allow to stand for about 30 minutes. (Personally, I like to make it the night before and store it in the fridge).
  4. Brush a pancake pan or frying pan with oil. When the pan is hot, give the batter a stir before pouring a thin layer onto the pan.
  5. Fry until golden brown. Turn and fry the other side until brown also.
  6. Stack pancakes on a large plate, as they are cooked.


Serving Suggestions

  • Dust with Shamrock Golden Caster Sugar, add a squeeze of lemon juice, roll up and serve
  • Drizzle with Honey or Maple Syrup
  • Fresh fruit served with natural yoghurt or whipped cream
  • Stewed apples, flavoured with cinnamon and a dollop of fresh cream
  • Or if you are strange like me you could have yours with chef brown sauce – don’t judge till you have tried it, it’s amazing.

Buttermilk Scones Recipe


  • 450g self-raising flour, plus extra for dusting
  • ¼ tsp salt
  • 100g cold butter, diced
  • 85g golden caster sugar
  • 284ml buttermilk
  • 2 tsp vanilla extract
  • Splash of milk



  1. Heat oven to 220C/200C fan/gas 7. Put the flour, salt and butter into a food processor and pulse until you can’t feel any lumps of butter (or rub in butter with fingers). Pulse in the sugar.
  2. Gently warm the buttermilk (don’t throw away the pot) and vanilla in a microwave or pan. Using your largest bowl, quickly tip in some of the flour mix, followed by some of the buttermilk mix, repeating until everything is in the bowl. Use a knife to quickly mix together to form a dough – don’t over-mix it.
  3. Tip onto a floured surface and lightly bring together with your hands a couple of times. Press out gently to about 4cm thick and stamp out rounds with a 6cm or 7cm cutter. Re-shape trimmings, until all the dough is used. Spread out on a lightly floured baking sheet or two. Add a splash of milk into the buttermilk pot, then use to glaze the top of each scone. Bake for 10-12 mins until golden and well risen.


This is an amazing recipe and so tasty for a treat or afternoon tea.


Serve With:

Butter or

Whipped Cream and Strawberry Jam

Stressful Meal Times with Children

Does anybody else think that meal times with children are the most stressful times of the day. It’s like they take turns to antagonise me and put my blood pressure through the roof. I mean please who are these demon children.
Today for example, I gave the boys 2/3 warnings that they would have to come in soon for dinner and that they wouldn’t be going back out afterwards. They were out late last night and need to catch up on their sleep. When dinner was finally on the table I called them in. Only to be met with tears, wailing 😭, and begging. I’m tired, exhausted actually. I can barely use my body after the intense workout yesterday morning, and now the little people are trying to kill me with noise and ungratefulness. 
I calmly tried to tell them again for the galzillionth time that dinner was on the table and they had to come in. The oldest said he had to go get his bike and the tiniest one just screamed and asked what was for dinner. Now you would think that I just sprung it on him that we were having bolangaise, that we hadn’t previously had two discussions about what was for dinner today. Oh no! The bad mammy that I am made the worst dinner in the world. At this stage now, I was standing at the doorway. Practically on the street, he was crying like a banshee and I could feel steam pouring out my ears. Up to bed with you, I said and no dinner until you can be quite.
I thank my lucky stars everyday that my two boys are intelligent and have some cop on. But in that moment of despair, when they think their lives are about to end because something has happened that they don’t like, there is no talking sense into them. Any reasonable person would just be quite so they could ear their dinner. But oh no! This little monkey, stomped up the stairs, into his room, bellowing from the top of his lungs that he was starving and just wanted to eat his dinner. Is he s**ting me. I just said he had to stop crying. He’s still whinging. Ten more minutes pass. If any of the neighbours could hear him I’m sure they would think I was starving the poor child.
Then there was silence and I could hear little toes coming down the stairs. The penny dropped and he wiped his eyes and his tear stained cheeks, a little sniffle and he was creeping up behind me. He sat down on his chair, I thought to myself “Victory”, he’s going to eat his dinner now. No chance!! This dinner is disgusting, I want cheese on it like in Grainne’s house. Can I have noodles instead. Why don’t you cook me chicken nuggets and chips anymore? Will you cook me noodles when I’m finished? Where’s my broggie? Then Nathan turns around to him and says “All Mammy and I have to say to you is CONOR MCGREGOR!!” 
“Ahhhhhhhh! Stop being mean to me, you too are being so mean!!!! Ahhhhh!” Steam is now coming out my ears, noise, eyes and mouth. Why child, why?? 
Thankfully he ate some of his dinner and he wasn’t murdered or sold. He is now safely tucked in bed after loads of hugs and kisses getting ready to fight another day. The joys of children 👶 but I wouldn’t have it any other way (well maybe just at meal times)………………….
To be continued 

Just the Four of Us

Today, yesterday and the last few weeks have been a struggle. But today more so than anything. No particular reason, I am sure it’s just a build-up of everything. Isn’t it awful when life knocks you down and makes you feel like giving up.

As you have read over the last few months I have been struggling with fertility. I have mentioned the big dark cloud that looms as things keep getting progressively worse with disappointment after disappointment. Well this is different. I can’t even describe how I am feeling, I am fine one minute and then angry, upset, inconsolable, or just plain crazy the next. My need to control things has increased and my anxiety is through the roof.

This is not a call for sympathy or I am not trying to dwell on things to be a martyr, it is just a lot to digest and I feel like I am mourning. I am mourning the life that I thought I was going to have and the baby that I was going to love with all my heart.

I have received conflicting reports from Doctors, all helping to mess with my head even further. When we met with my Gynaecologist, who did the procedure, on the day my stitches were being removed, she gave us hope. It was more the delivery of the news than the words themselves as she delivered them with a smile and optimism. Sean came out of the meeting with a sigh of relief and said that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. To which my reaction was – “Were we in the same room?”.

She explained that during the hysteroscopy there would have been an element of fluid and there was no spillage from my tubes. The D and C went ok and she was happy enough with her findings and she even showed us pictures of my womb and tubes. From these pictures, she was able to show me the opening to my tubes which were in fact open and not in spasm. However, during the laparoscopy instead of using 10ml of fluid she used 50ml and there was no spill into my abdomen. She explained that during the procedure my tubes might go into spasm but that it was unlikely that this would happen for the length of time that she was doing her investigations. She then explained that my left tube had attached itself to the wall of my bowel with adhesions and that surgery to remove it and free it up may not be successful.

There was so much to take in and she was very understanding and kind, but also said that with the art of making babies anything goes, that although things don’t look or sound great that miracles happen and people have proved her wrong in the past. I am not feeling miracles at the moment. I don’t want to give myself anymore false hope. The last few months have been all about the science and through no fault of my own miracles have not helped. I have done everything I could. I have pumped my body with so many hormones and drugs. I have put my life on hold and I have been borderline insane at times. But no miracles.

I want to believe that everything will be ok and that things are the way they are meant to be, but am I really meant to be this unhappy and this broken. Am I really meant to feel guilty that it’s all my fault that I can’t give Sean another child or my children another sibling. I understand that things happen in life to make you stronger and that you will see down the road why it happened or the greater good that has come from this experience. But this is going on for nearly three years, I would rather just know why I feel like I am being tortured.

My consultant in the fertility clinic in Dublin told me that my tubes are more than likely fine and that they were just in spasm. It was very blasé on the phone and there was no consideration of my feelings. He hadn’t seen the scans, he hadn’t done the procedure, he was just giving me the numbers. He told me he would see me for my next appointment (which was meant to be this week and we would talk about it then). He said to arrange to get another HSG scan done, which I had. This would hopefully show that my tubes were ok and if not, I would have to consider more surgery or IVF. I postponed my appointment with him. What was the point in paying out 200.00 when I had no more information for him. I need to wait to have the next HSG scan done and also be back on treatment to have some blood results to review.

I am afraid to even try for a baby at the moment because I am at risk of ectopic pregnancy and losing my tubes altogether. If I was to fall pregnant I would need an early scan to rule it out. Imagine finding out your pregnant and feeling the excitement that it has finally happened and then living with the worry for a few weeks that it may be ectopic and not viable.

I brought Nathan, my oldest boy to an appointment last night with a craniosacral therapist last night, which is another day’s work. But this woman was able to read me, and not in a physic sort of way. She asked me if I was ok, she said that she could feel that I was holding a lot of upset on my chest. I told her that I was grand and she said that “Mammy’s always are, for the sake of their kids”. Am I that transparent, besides that fact that I am spilling my guts to all of you. But can I not even put on a fake smile and pretend to be ok in public anymore?

Another way of looking at it is why should I have to pretend to be ok? Why can’t I just be a mess all the time? I haven’t slept since the 30th of June, I am exhausted, both mentally and physically, I am trying to put on a brave face for my kids all the time and I am just tired. On the rare occasion that they find me upset I just tell them that I have banged my toe or have a pain in my belly. They have asked a few times in the last few weeks when Holy God is going to give us a baby and I have had to try hold my SHIT together and tell them that there will be no baby for a while and that we are happy, just the four of us……………………………..

To be continued

The Lights Went Out

It’s with a broken heart that I write this post. And while you are reading it, I am sitting with the Doctor waiting for her to say out loud what I already know in my gut to my true.

Friday morning, I went to hospital early, nervous but full of hope. We checked in and made our way to the Day Ward. After meeting my nurse and being shown to my bed I waited patiently to be called for my turn to go to theatre. The nurse went through questions with me, took my weight and then the Doctor came to insert the cannula and take some bloods. I was told that a section had gone in first and I would be next. This wasn’t the case and I was waiting around until 12 to be called.

The anesthetist came around to go through a few things and then I was asked to get into my gown. It was time to go. I had butterflies in my stomach and as Sean kissed me good bye I knew I needed to be strong and just get through the next few hours alone. I was wheeled down to theatre on the bed as I was on a drip to keep my fluids up. I was waiting in the corridor outside of theatre to be called in. My theatre nurse was the same one I had when I was having Jacob. It was familiar space but this time I wasn’t getting the baby I desired so much.

The doctor came out to me before surgery and said that she was going to do the laparoscopy and that if she needed to do any work while inside that I would have to stay overnight. It was time, I was wheeled in and helped from my bed to the operating table. Bright lights and the sterile smell and soon I was under after breathing in gas through the mask.

I woke up nearly three hours later in recovery with the theatre nurse calling my name. I was tired and didn’t want to wake up. There were nurses coming in and out and then my nurse from the day ward arrived. Then in walked my Doctor/Surgeon. I wasn’t fully coherent but I remember everything she said. She told me that she did not do any work during the laparoscopy. She told me I had a lot of adhesions and that my tubes were blocked, especially my left. She told me that she pumped me with blue dye and that it kept pouring out of me and not to be alarmed if there was blue appearing for the next few days. She said that she was checking for endometriosis and I didn’t have it. She said that I wasn’t to go back to work for a while and she gave me a prescription for pain relief. She also mentioned that she needed to check my scans from November as my tubed were not blocked then. She told me to come to see her on Thursday to get my stitches out and to go through the operation. Then she left and my nurse followed her. She was gone about ten or fifteen minutes and I spent that time yapping to the nurses. Coming out of the anaesthetic made me hyper and I couldn’t stop talking.

When my nurse returned, her and the theatre nurse wheeled me back to my room. We met Sean coming out of the theatre doors and he said he had been pacing for an hour and a half. Poor Sean he must have been beside himself with worry. When we got back to the room I asked Sean to dress me, the gown is horrible and sweaty and I was feeling disgusting after the surgery. Poor Sean saw some things that I am sure he wishes he could un-see but he was a trouper. He was an amazing help all day and looked after me the best he could. The nurse told him to go to the car and have a snooze to let me rest and to come back in an hour or so. I couldn’t sleep, I had the urge to pee and eventually called the nurse to help me to the bathroom. My nurse was gone to do another job so there was another lady with me. She was lovely and heavily pregnant with only 10 weeks left.

I was very unsteady on my feet and she propped me up on the way to the bathroom. I got myself onto the toilet and ten minutes later nothing was happening. I had to call out to reassure the nurse I was ok. I eventually squeezed out the tiniest drop and got back into bed. Sean came back soon after that and kept me company. I was so naive and just so delighted to finally know why I wasn’t getting pregnant. I thought that now we knew we could fix it and just unblock my tubes.

It was nearly time to go home and the nurse was in with me checking my wound. It was oozing a bit but nothing to be worried about. She took out my cannula and was talking to me about how attentive Sean had been all day and how we were an amazing couple. Then she started to get upset. The conversation moved on to whether I could remember what the Doctor had said to me earlier as she didn’t want me to get upset on Thursday if I was hearing it for the first time, that my tubes were blocked. She asked me if we had thought of any other options like IVF or adoption and I think she knew by my face that we hadn’t. None of this conversation registered with me as being strange until the next day and I just continued as my happy little self, glad to be finally getting out of hospital.

I got home and my sister had Jacob, I came in and put my feet up waiting for Jacob to get some cuddles. I face-timed Nathan to reassure him I was home and ok and had a quick chat with my sister when she called over, then It was off to bed. That night Jacob slept with me and although it was lovely to have him there, I was in a lot of pain. Sean had to work the next day so Jacob and I got up around 8:30 and I made him some brekkie. Soon afterwards alarm bells started going off.

I remembered that my tubes weren’t blocked in November and this was one of the first things to be checked in the fertility process. Then I thought it was strange that if there were adhesions there and she was already working on me why she hadn’t dissected them. Then the nurse came to mind and how she got upset and asked me had I thought of any other options. It was time to use Dr Google. It was confirmed, blocked tubes are nearly impossible to unblock if there are adhesions and scar tissue. I would never conceive naturally again. My whole world crumbled and my heart began to race. I lay on the couch barely able to move, screaming with the physical pain of heart break. How could this be happening. Months of torture all for nothing. I didn’t mind doing it as there was light at the end of the tunnel. Now the lights had gone out.

I text my fertility advisor to call me when she was free. I needed to hear it from a professional. The rest of the day was a blur. I told my Mam but she didn’t want to believe it and told me to wait until Thursday when I met my Doctor. I told Sean and my sister and each time my heart broke a little more. Saying it out loud made it real. My dreams were crushed. And I know a few of you might be saying – but you have two beautiful boys. Although I cherish them and love them with every ounce of me, when you long for a baby and then find out that your body has failed you, it’s heart breaking beyond belief. I feel like I am in mourning, I feel guilty as it’s my body that has failed and I am denying Sean anymore children, I feel so angry that this has happened and I am sure there will be no real explanation as to why. Why is the big question? Why me? ………..

To be continued