When my husband and I decided to try the IVF route, we always knew that we would need to fund it ourselves. Having had one natural daughter already, despite struggling with Secondary Infertility we were not (are not) eligible for any treatment on the NHS. We are lucky in that, we have been able to pay for ourselves to date, but having only had one fresh round and two other versions of IVF, our bill already nudges near £16,000 which is eye wateringly expensive. Anyone I know who has undergone IVF has either paid for it themselves or received it for free, but what about, and this is something I’d not really considered before, those who simply live in the wrong area, or who are denied treatment? What are they supposed to do?
Dear Olivia. This day has crept on me somewhat. I’ve known it was coming obviously, but what with a busy few months, I’ve parked it at the back of my mind.
You are my fierce, independent girl and 90% of time you don’t need me but I guess you’ve been a bit thrown coming back from our recent holiday. Tonight you couldn’t sleep, and asked me to lye next to you. As I lay there, starring at your warm, little face, the last four years of your life flashed before my eyes. Wave after wave of tears fell, the emotions I’ve been battling with for the last few weeks came out. You have done so much, we have done so much together, we’ve been so busy but the most exciting, challenging bit is yet to come and my heart aches for this change.
You are all I have Olivia, my only girl. You are my world and my heart and tomorrow is such a small but big step for us both. Tomorrow everything changes. I love you x
It’s safe to say that the plastic movement has well and truly got me thinking. I get it. I get how truly awful plastic is and how much harm it’s doing to the planet. I also get how bad plastics can be for fertility – most books you pick up now tell you to avoid plastic where possible like the plague. I realised all of this a while ago in but any changes I was trying to implement got put on hold as we moved back to my parents while some work was done to our house. Now we’re home and I can control things more, I want to try and look at all of this again. Whilst trying to reduce plastic in our home is a huge task in itself, I decided to look at what I was using in the bathroom, to see exactly what came housed in plastic and the result slightly horrified me. Pretty much everything I use comes in some form of plastic, be it toothpaste, my toothbrush, shampoo, shower gel, the list goes on. Plastic is literally entrenched in our lives. I’ve been skirting around the idea of trying a shampoo bar for a while now. I’m already using a solid deodorant bar, which works really well for me, so going with a shampoo bar was a natural next step and after much internet searching, I came across the brand Conchus.
Made by a couple driven to make a difference, their bars are, ‘100% natural made with a blend of oils and butters, scented with only essential oils and coloured with natural colourants. They come in zero plastic packaging, they’re vegan friendly, palm oil free and cruelty free‘. All of this is becoming more and more important to me. Within our home I’m replacing harmful plastics with more natural products, within reason (i.e. cost) and where possible. With this thought in mind, I decided to try some of the Conchus products out. I purchased two Giggle bars, which are for hair and body, one Swell bar just for hair, and a Halo hair rinse. That palm print, LOVE!
I’ve had two very different announcements this week. A pregnancy one on Facebook with the standard scan photo, and a text from a friend, telling me about her miscarriage. What a stark difference. How exciting and wonderful for one person, and how truly rubbish and shit for the other. This is sadly just the harsh reality of life. Off the back of this, a thought popped into my head, it’s June. It’s June. This is the month I was supposed to be due, the month I was supposed to have a new baby. How had I forgotten about this, and now I’d remembered, how did I feel about this?
After our missed miscarriage, we flew on holiday. Not the best time to go away but hey, these things don’t give a heads-up or warning, do they? Timing aside, in hindsight the space was really good for us, just what we needed as we were away from our everyday lives back home. Whilst trying to deal with what had just happened, towards the end of our trip, my husband started to write ‘a plan’. He began writing notes, a to do list as such, covering what our goals were, as a couple and individually. Things that we wanted to achieve, something for us, and for me to focus on after our heartache. Sometimes when you experience a loss, it can help to have something to work towards, something to get you back on track.