Rachel McGrath's Blog, page 7

Spring is in the air

One of the hardest things for someone going through fertility challenges or having experienced pregnancy loss is the fact that everyone around you seems to be pregnant and having babies.

Tell me I’m wrong. It is as though, everywhere I look, someone has a lovely round tummy, or a gurgling new born just taunting me, reminding me of what I don’t have. It is one of the ironies of my current situation I guess. It is a constant reminder of what I have lost.

But don’t feel sorry for me here please. This is not meant to be a pity party. It is the reality of life. Not everyone was meant to conceive naturally, and there are many women like me in the same situation.

So how do I deal? There is no exact science to be honest. Sometimes it is difficult and sometimes I will shy away from that baby shower, or first born announcement, purely because it’s the only way I can cope, heal and resolve my own feelings at times. What I do ask is for understanding, not offence. Of course I wish for the same as you and sometimes I do envy you, but don’t get me wrong, I’m never resentful. I’m grateful that you have never had these challenges; or if you have had to deal with any hurdles along your journey, I’m thankful you’ve managed to overcome them.

As with the arrival of Spring; the sunshine and colours of a new season, I will always aim to cover my pain and the loss with smiles, and I will focus on being positive. Yet the hardest times are the ones you don’t expect. There is a moment, a memory, or reflection that will suddenly appear, and out of the blue, the sadness sweeps in. For me, it’s important to accept it, not avoid it.

Life moves on, and the delights of birth, children and families will continue to surround me.   My hope is to one day realise that dream of motherhood. Nonetheless, as with anyone who understands infertility or miscarriage, I will always grieve those angels taken before their time, wondering what could have been. That is the winter that will always haunt me, it’s a feeling that a small part of me was lost when they left this world.

 

I hope that you enjoy following my journey.  Follow me

 

My full memoir is available at:  Amazon UK or Amazon US or Amazon ANZ

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What Defines Failure?

One word that maddens me is ‘failure’.

I was talking to someone the other day about my own situation, the fact that I had experienced miscarriage and that I was exploring my infertility, and I was asked this question.

‘Why do you think your pregnancy failed?’

 

The definition of ‘fail’ is to prove deficient or lacking; perform ineffectively or inadequately.   I certainly don’t feel deficient, and I don’t feel that my uterus failed me either. It tried. Those little pregnancies worked their hardest to survive, but alas it wasn’t their time. I’ve accepted that, and I understand that not everything was meant to be easy, and sometimes we need to fight hard for what we truly want.

 

I guess I see failure as defeat, and I don’t feel defeated. I feel challenged. Challenged to try something different, keep moving on with new options, learn from my experiences, and hopefully one day I will get my ‘rainbow baby’.

 

Regardless of where I end up on this fertility road, I will keep moving forward with my life, my adventures and my focus will always remain the same – being happy, healthy and positive.

I believe we make choices with our lives, and the obstacles we face along the way.  My personal choice was to find something out of this experience, and it helped me to write about it, share my circumstances. Right choice or wrong choice, it was the path I chose, and I’m determined to head in that direction.

 

The word failure doesn’t even come into my vocabulary because success is what you make of your choices, and I choose to live life and find new opportunities.

 

I hope that you enjoy following my journey.  Follow me

 

My full memoir is available at:  Amazon UK or Amazon US or Amazon ANZ

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Doctor’s Orders

Why do I always feel worse, not better after seeing my doctor? Is it just me, or do others feel this way?

Today I had a fairly routine appointment, something I had scheduled a few weeks back on advice from my specialist. At the time of booking I had given a detailed description of the appointment to the receptionist, and had thought nothing more. Perhaps it’s my naivety, but I’m not a trained medical professional, and I go to the service to seek advice and support.

At this appointment today, I was let down, made to feel like a school child, and just plain incompetent about my own situation. It was upsetting and frustrating, as I got no solution, only a lecture on my own specialists’ incompetence and basically a shrug of the shoulders.

My GP knows my detailed history, has seen my story through numerous referrals and specialist assessments, and she must know by now, that this is a very sensitive subject for me. Yet each time I sit in her uncomfortable wooden chair, I seem to get an air of indifference, and I feel the need to justify my own position. It’s just exhausting, and I find myself now looking for excuses to avoid further appointments.

For those who have read my memoir, ‘Finding the Rainbow’, or at least plan to, you will understand my irritation with the health service. I’m not saying that anything is meant to be perfect, I realise that no one has all the answers, but it feels at times that there is a lack of human empathy in the public service, and don’t patients deserve more?   Even more frustrating, is that where I live, there is a registration process, and unless you are willing to pay big money to go private, you can’t just switch GP’s with the snap of a finger.

So what can I do?

I can blog about it… If nothing else, it helps to place words on paper, therapeutic even. Sometimes we have to face annoyances and defeat, but in the end we can’t let one person, one experience, bring us down. That’s the message I keep telling myself, and it somehow makes me feel better… eventually!

 

Like my story, buy my memoir:  Amazon UK or Amazon US or Amazon Australia

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Finding my Rainbow

The release of my first published work is both exciting and daunting!

I’m opening up my life, my feelings, and my emotions to the public; to friends, family and acquaintances, something that doesn’t necessarily come easy to me. Bizarrely, it seems more comfortable having my story on paper, writing it down and letting others read it, rather than trying to articulate my feelings verbally. But now I wait in trepidation, I wonder, have I done the right thing, am I a fool for being so transparent, and now what’s next?

It’s certainly been a journey, or perhaps more of a rough ride, with many obstacles along the way. On top of that I am trying to balance a busy career, my home life, relationships and life in general. Not an easy task.

At times I don’t think about it, but lately with the excitement of my memoir coming to life, now being available publicly to purchase, it feels always front of my mind.

So am I ready? There is no true way to tell. Now I just wait and hope that the response is what I had hoped for. My sole ambition is connection, reconciliation, understanding, and truth. I look forward to the comments, feedback and experiences from those who do read it – don’t hold back, transparency is important.  It is the reason I decided to publish this work in the first place.

For those who do purchase my book I thank you wholeheartedly for the support you are giving me on this unpredictable journey, and I can assure you that hope will always prevail in ‘finding the rainbow’ whatever my rainbow will be.

Buy my book on Amazon UK or Amazon Australia or Amazon US

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What type of Mum will I be?

It’s Mother’s Day in Australia and the U.S. today, and for some of us it’s a day of lost hope…

I’m not yet a mum, but I want to be. So what type of mum will I be? Will I be firm but fair, will I be strict and hard, or will I be lenient and spoil my young child. I know what I want to be but I cannot tell what I will be.

It is so difficult to know. I have so many ambitions of what I foresee parenthood to be.  Like many prospective mums, I watch others and see what I will and won’t do. But that’s all a dream. Ask any mum in real life. The reality never actually follows the aspiration. Dependent on the child, dependent on the circumstances, and what situations life smacks you hard in the face; all that spirit to have a dreamy floaty experience of powder and giggles, is often thrown out with the towel, when your first born cries at unknown hours of the night. Really, whatever you want motherhood to look like, it will never compare to your baby’s motives to eat, poop and be nursed regardless of your own agenda, and that helplessness in the early days to understand how to appease its cries and discontent.

I’ve never experienced it, but I know first-hand from family and friends who’ve shared their own experiences.

Think about it. How would you feel, being dispersed from that comfortable uterus world – the only place you’ve ever known, to the broad stark daylight, and a reality where you don’t know what big face, arms or person will be touching, caressing or holding you next? It would be disconcerting to the most of us.

The only constant is the parent, that person who is there from the first day, holding, supporting and nurturing. They will be become the parent that you need, and there is no other agenda than that. To that little baby, they are the constant, and that fact alone will help shape and grow that little baby into its own existence and character, in this unpredictable and amazing world.

So what type of mother will I be? If that day ever comes, I will be the luckiest and best mother I can be. I will be a mum to a very amazing child and that’s all that counts to me.

 

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An Heir and a Spare

The Duchess of Cambridge and her pregnancy have been the focal point for media attention worldwide, even before she actually conceived. First, there was the speculation as to whether she was or was not pregnant. Every time she touched her stomach it was a sure sign in the eyes of the media. The public expected an immediate pregnancy after that spectacular wedding.

When she finally did get pregnancy, she suffered terribly with hyperemesis gravidarum, a severe form of morning sickness that left her hospitalised, a condition that publicly exposed her condition early into the first trimester. Then, during her pregnancy, there was continual speculation as to what sex the baby would be. I even read one article stating that because she was wearing pink, it was a definite sign that they were expecting a little girl.

In the past few days, after a long wait, we heard that she had delivered a healthy baby girl, a little sister to Prince George. Poor Kate was heavily overdue, undoubtedly tired and miserable, and still the media were resolved and waiting for the breaking news, camping out in hope for a first glimpse of the new royal baby. Even so, Kate took it in her stride, as always, appearing not long after the birth, looking like a million dollars.

So can we assume her obligations are now done? She has provided the kingdom with its heir in young Prince George, and just in case, the little Princess Charlotte is their spare. Thinking on this concept, I reflect on the pressure Kate must have faced to reach this point, and I wonder, is she now relieved? Ultimately it is her duty and obligation to provide the nation with its future King or Queen.

I compare this to my own challenging journey in trying to achieve a first healthy pregnancy, and the pressure I have put on myself throughout the past couple of years to reach this goal. I could not fathom how I would respond, should the entire nation; the world even; be intently watching my every move, guessing at endless possibilities. Whatever the outcome, it is nature’s prerogative alone that defines the course towards motherhood. No amount of power, money or stature can change this if it’s not meant to be.

We have all read our royal history, the infamous be-headings and divorces from royal spouses who could not provide an heir to the throne. Clearly times have now changed, but I do question what may have happened if Kate had the same challenges I am having today. Would the media be so kind to her, reveling in her beauty and poise, and focusing purely on the great work she can do in support of charities and community organisations. Or would she be tarnished, as the kings and queens of days past, unable to provide the kingdom with an heir in waiting, and therefore a failure in the eyes of the British royalists.

Well at least now she can relax, regardless. We may never know the answer. Whether or not they decide to continue to procreate, build on their family, ultimately her duty is complete.

 

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The Departure Lounge..

Today I sit in the airport departure lounge, after a week-long work conference, waiting to board my flight home.

Airports fascinate me, and I’m an avid people watcher, which always makes the departure and arrivals lounge so intriguing. People come and go; families, solo travellers, business professionals; each heading in their own direction; all with their own stories to tell.

I travel a lot with my job and when I’m not working, I’m planning a holiday to new and exciting destinations. Sometimes it feels like I’m always waiting for a plane to depart or arrive, yet I do enjoy the adventure and intrigue that travel offers; the new sights, different cultures, or just meeting new people from all walks of life. As I wait and watch, I reflect and I ponder on the stories of those around me, are they coming or going, moving or visiting, and what has happened in their lives, bringing them to this place and time.

Why? Well we all have a story. At times it’s easy to be oblivious, focusing on our personal realities, situations or obstacles, and yet there is a big wide world out there with billions of people, all with their own circumstances, some struggling with life, health, or whatever distinct challenges have fallen in their path. Yet in this crowd, at this airport, I would never know what’s beneath the surface, and never will, perhaps not even if I asked.

Why is this important? I guess it’s not. But this is life, and all these people around me have their own adventures, priorities, needs and wants. Yet sitting here, it makes me feel a little less concerned with myself, and more aware of the fact that whatever life throws at me, I’m not the only one, and that somewhere, someone else is perhaps facing a greater challenge. It’s the humble appreciation that we do not know and cannot assume on first glance, that we know the details of a persons’ life. Even so, I will always ponder on their story…

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Lifting the Lid on Fertility

Wonderful news!  My first published work is due to be released late next month (May 2015)!

One of my primary ambitions as a young girl was to become a writer.  I’ve always enjoyed putting words to paper. Creating fantastical stories in my head and then watching them translate into short stories or poems, or sometimes just writing about my thoughts and feelings throughout the most crucial stages of my life, as a way of capturing my emotions at that point of time.  Whichever, the written word has always enthralled me, helped me find solace and been my constant diversion from reality.

At the start of our passage towards family planning, I was full of hope and excitement for something I was confident would be a sure path. I was so naïve to the struggles that many women face, and conceitedly, infertility or loss was not something I fathomed would happen to me. It was an unspoken grief that many of my friends had already experienced, yet no one openly voiced. It was only after the fact, often when good news finally prevailed, or sadly when hope was lost, that stories were shared. But only sometimes!

Our path took a rocky approach from the very start, and my hopes of motherhood were not as accessible as I’d once foreseen. I wrote of my struggles, at first a personal journal of sorts. Something to help me take the experiences and feelings, and transforming my sorrow into reflection; it was an attempt to remain optimistic for the future.  

What I realised was that there were so many unknowns on this fertility journey, so many things I had never assumed to expect. It was a quest for answers, a road that led to many dead-ends and an emotional and physical undertaking that I had never fathomed I would ever face.

Writing soon became a personal sanctuary, allowing the freedom to speak openly, with no questions, judgement or opinion. Words flowed openly and transparently, I felt unrestricted and my day by day account soon became a narrative memoir, and something I needed to share.

What I had dealt with, the anguish and uncertainty, the highs and lows, needed to be told, needed a voice. This was important to me, and I felt it could be important for others too starting their own journey, or reconciling their own experiences.

I admit that I am nervous, even somewhat fearful. My story; my journey will soon be open to the views and interpretations of others. It is the private and intimate account of my experience, and inside those pages are my own thoughts and feelings; blatant and candid, nothing left to hide.

So now I wait.  I am truly thrilled at the prospect seeing my work ‘published’; I am anxious to understand its response and yet hopeful that it will inspire and help others. More importantly, I want to open the door on fertility, create an open space for others to find their voice, and feel confident expressing their pain.

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Who’s choice is it?

A friend of mine is planning an adventure, something of a charitable nature. She is taking time out to give back to the less fortunate. This is no small gesture; certainly not a holiday. It’s an overseas mission involving hardship and personal sacrifice; a commitment, time out from her own agenda and luxuries. Mind you, this person is a busy career professional, with limited annual leave entitlement, yet she offers up her own time for the greater good.

Buy why? Why would she do this? An individual quest, and of her own free will, people often ask whether there is another motive, something perhaps missing in her life that she needs to fulfil.

The speculation is vast, and a most curious suggestion was that of timeframes. It must be notorious biological clock .. tick tock tick tock.

When she told me this, I reflected back to how many times people have commented on my life choices…

I love to travel to different and exciting places, yet I should get it out of my system now whilst I still have the freedom!
As I made my first house purchase, apparently I was nesting?
I am ambitious and enjoy a busy, progressive career, but it’s not possible to balance this alongside a growing family.

Why does everything need a ‘but’ clause? Why can’t women just enjoy their interests, ambitions and choices, without the proviso that there is a time limit or agenda to fulfil before we stop altogether and start family planning? Why can’t we have both? It surprises me that this perception is still ‘out there’… that life stops after kids.

I see some brilliant role models, both publicly (Angelina Jolie or Victoria Beckham) and through many of my family and friends. All these women seem to enjoy busy social lives, active careers and exciting adventures – bringing their full family on that journey.

I’m under no illusion that this is not an easy task, and it most likely involves great organisation, planning, patience and compromise. However I grew up with a career minded mother, and I never felt neglected or abandoned. In fact I excelled academically, was active within several social and sporting clubs and had a great role model to build upon my own ambitions. But that’s just me.

I understand and respect that not everyone wants to be a working mum and others choose not to have children at all (or just can’t). Different people have different perspectives on their life and ambitions. Ambition means different things to different people. Yet judgement still prevails – on both sides. It’s about personal choice and personal agenda, and nothing more – pre, post or without children.

Yet why are we still being asked about our choices, feel we need to justify our actions? And, does there need to be an agenda or plan behind every action?

 

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