Why I won’t celebrate turning 35

20 Aug


I wrote this post at the weekend.

Warning, it contains a large dollop of self pity, which I make no apology for. After all, it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to……

So on August 19th I turn 35. Woo HOO! Crack open the champagne, blow up those balloons eh?

Well no. Not really.

It’s true to say that birthdays have kind of lost their sparkle since I turned thirty. Mainly because my son was born 9 days before my 31st birthday, which meant that that year and every other year since, my celebrations have been somewhat scaled down or even downright overlooked. It’s ok, I get it, he’s the focus now.

However, I’ve never felt distinctly depressed about getting older, until this year.

This year is different. Significant. And for all the wrong reasons.

See, when I first started having fertility treatment, I promised myself that I would have had all my children by the time I was 35. Not because I had some rigid life plan (although the rest of my life to date has been pretty planned), but because I was acutely aware that a woman’s fertility starts to free fall at the age of 35.

I knew that I would have to pay thousands to conceive my second child, and well, I’m not an idiot, why purposely make it harder for yourself? If I was to get knocked up again without going bankrupt, I needed to give myself the best odds, and that meant getting on with it before I got barren.

But about those pesky thousands of ££££££££££.

Yeah, hard to come by.

I’m not rich. My family isn’t rich, and my husband is positively penniless. So I wasn’t fortunate enough to be gifted an endless pot of cash to spend on never ending attempts at ever more cutting edge science.

No, I would have to scrimp and save enough money for a few cycles by working my ass off.

Now having been through IVF once, I knew damn well it isn’t the sort of thing you stop doing if you don’t like the outcome. Pumped full of hormones, and with the tantalising possibility of what could be, you would try over and over until that precious baby is in your arms.

So I knew I needed enough cash to fund myself for several rounds. And that took years.

Last year, when I turned 34 I decided that it was now or never, and put the wheels in motion to re-visit my consultant and start the ball rolling.

That was last August.

After 4 years out of this game, there were many tests to be repeated to see how me and my hubby were holding up.

Those tests, followed by a nasty flu bug meant treatment was delayed for 6 months until February 2013.

But finally, I was ready to start. And it worked first time. Brilliant. All of my carefully laid plans were coming to fruition.

But I’m not that jammy and I lost my baby, as readers of my blog will know.

And the aftermath has been complicated and cruel.

So here I am, despite my best intentions, turning 35 without that second child on board.

And it feels shit.

I’ve failed. It’s the only thing I’ve ever failed at in my life. Unless you include playing the cello at 12, and marrying Johnny Depp.

And of all the things to fail, this one hurts the most. Such a capable woman, and yet so feckin useless at doing the one thing a woman should do best.

So this year, instead of raising a toast and marking my half way mark to 40 (40…ewwww, shudder), I will sulk like the child I so badly hoped to have by now, and grieve once again for the baby I should still be carrying.

And when it is over, I shall wake up to the life I do know so well with my wonderful hubby and gorgeous son, and pretend it never happened at all.

Happy frickin birthday Nik.

Thanks for reading.


2 Responses to “Why I won’t celebrate turning 35”

  1. Verily Victoria Vocalises August 25, 2013 at 10:08 pm #

    Oh my gosh, bless you. This really really sucks. I really feel for you. I had Grace at 36 in an abusive situation. I am now 42 with a man who turned 35 5 days after you. We want children together really badly and I am so scared it won’t happen and am fully aware of that ticking clock. Please don’t stop trying, please don’t give up. I was made aware of mortality last week when a good friend lost her 20 year old daughter who had just graduated as a teacher in a car crash on holiday in France. You can’t ever give up. I hope your birthday wasn’t an unhappy one. Thank you for linking to PoCoLo x

    • ferreroroche123 August 26, 2013 at 7:24 am #

      Many thanks for your touching comment. I wish you and your partner all the very best with your aims.

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