First Day of Summer


1st December. Today marks the day that I would have been full-term (40 weeks) with my first baby. It is also the day I could have been 12 weeks along with my first baby, the second time I got pregnant.


Instead, today isn’t any of those things.

It’s a Sunday, spent at home. Not speaking to anyone. Not going out to enjoy the first day of summer. Not putting up our tree to get into the Christmas spirit. Today, is another day like so many over the past 15 months exactly since our Wedding Day (1st September 2018) that reminds me that I haven’t achieved my goal that I had set for myself in my vision this year. That I would fall pregnant and have a baby to start our family. Something I’ve wanted my entire life as long as I can remember. To be a Mum. To have children.

From the moment I met my husband I knew we were going to have a family of our own one day. We were always perfectly aligned on that fact, so we started trying right away after our honeymoon.

It’s been 14 months since then.

I feel no closer to having that pregnancy, carrying to full-term and delivering our healthy, beautiful baby. I know we will, one day. And we can only be closer now than we once were.
But it feels like that dream has floated further and further away, out of my grasp and completely out of my control.

All we want is for our turn to come. We’ve waited long enough. We have waited patiently. We have sat through appointments, scans, explanations, operations and still no pregnancy, no baby. Everyone else is having their turn, or so it seems.

How do we stay strong, positive, relaxed, patient, happy and optimistic?

All we have is the future and yet picturing the future means I can’t bare to be in the present. And whilst I know the future can only get brighter than the past, because we are still yet to hold our baby and we WILL, it doesn’t take away the pain and constant bad memories or the fresh reminder that comes with the start of each new month.

Two of our little future babies will now stay in the past forever, in our hearts and our minds, but hopefully never leave a permanent scar. Because we will move on from this into happier days, and time will heal our wounds that were created, but not scars.

Our journey has felt more like a battle, of my body, of my mind, of my feelings, of my relationships, of my confidence, of society, of my sanity, of my ability, of my time… all of it working against me and yet at the same time without any of it I’d have and be nothing.

I hope this year does not define me, for too long. It is a fixed chapter in my story now, and it is definitely now a part of who I am (though it feels more like the whole me) but all I can do is have faith that the new year will bring another ME. A different me. A renewed body and mind. A renewed outlook. A renewed energy.

I look to the new year and keep my faith that it will bring me happiness and my BABY. I would do anything to bring us even a single step closer to having our baby, our child that is completely me and completely him, to hold and to love forever. Anything imaginable.

For now, I’ll go to sleep, dream about what could be and escape my reality until I wake up tomorrow and remember. Remember everything. The reality of what has happened and even more hard to bare, what hasn’t.

By, Ashleigh