Monthly Archives: April 2011

Why I love mother’s day


Today is always very special for me and I do tend to remember why I’m so lucky to have my son. Having known since my late teens that having children would be ‘difficult’ and that pcos meant I was branded infertile, when the broodiness eventually hit in my late 20’s, mother’s day became quite hard, especially when a million and one people would comment on “it should be you next”, “when are you having children?” over and over again. Or my favourite “come and cuddle this newborn it will make you broody”. Maybe you are reading this nodding your head. It took 3.5 very looooooong years to conceive my son. After endless hospital appointments, drugs, countless friends and family excitedly expecting their own (some having more than one in that time), many times driving my husband insane by crying over the fact that it wasn’t going to happen. Round after round of failed first line treatments, it seemed IVF being the only option loomed on the horizon. We sat in the first consultation at the IVF clinic nervous but excited, looking at all the baby pictures sent in by successful parents, reading the mountain of literature they hand you when you walk in. We left knowing that in 8 months time we would be at the top of the list and our dream would be one step closer.

We also left not knowing that I was already pregnant with my son. Even when I started throwing up 2 weeks later I didn’t think anything of it and put it down to a virus. Until the test showed two little lines. On March 8th 2008 our lives changed. The years of waiting, and hoping to be parents had come true. Any woman with infertility problems will recognise the endless temperature charts, feeling phantom ovulation pains and pseudo-pregnancy signs that “had” to be true, the obsessive compulsive addiction to reading anything and everything about fertility. Endless ovulation tests whether it involve peeing on a stick or spitting on an ovulation microscope, plugging in temperatures and signs daily on fertility software and analysing the graphs, a fortune spent on ‘cheapie’ pregnancy tests ‘just in case’. 

And now I type this with a son who is nearly 2 and a half fast asleep in his bed, 2 gorgeous handmade cards on the mantlepiece and a special painting tacked to the wall. Mother’s day is my day to remembering what we went through to have him and how lucky we are.  It’s also my day for being uber-sentimental so forgive me for that.