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The loss I mourn for that I never even had

An honest and raw confession

By Kayleigh TaylorPublished 2 years ago 6 min read
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I still remember it like it was yesterday. Sat inside the doctors office, only 26 years old and being told,

It's unlikely you'll have any more children

To be honest, I hadn't really thought about having anymore children up until that point. I mean, me and my partner had spoken about names in passing discussion but only when we came across a name we liked because it was unique or unusual. But when that doctor looked at me, brass as day and just came out with that sentence like it was nothing, I suddenly felt empty.

I have had problems with my body for years. I suffer with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) and Endometriosis. When I was 23 years old, I had a laparoscopy (keyhole surgery) and I had the damaged tissue and ovarian cysts removed by use of a laser. This helped to alleviate some pain I had suffered for years and would help me become more fertile if I wished to have children in the future. During surgery, I also had the Mirena inserted (the coil) to protect my now supposed 'more fertile' body from producing a baby I wasn't ready for at the time.

How I wish I had been ready.

If you want to educate yourself on Endometriosis, its symptoms, causes and treatments, the NHS website have access to brilliant information. I have linked it below. Endometriosis is incurable but can be handled. Please don't suffer alone.

Fast forward to October 2017, I was now 26 years old and the coil no longer seemed to be doing it's job. I had pain return with the vengeance and my periods had also returned (which had stopped for 3 years). So, a trip to the doctors it was. They removed the coil there and then in the surgery and after much anticipation for the horror stories of pain I had heard during removal, it was far faster and less painful than I imaged. A little pinch later and a few tablets for the dull aches and I felt back to relatively normal. The doctor advised me to return within 3 months if I wanted another one fitted but warned me in advance the minute the coil was removed, I was technically able to get pregnant.

Or so I thought.

I'm now 30 years old, I have been off all contraception for 4 years and I'm classed as infertile, having never caught once since my removal.

I've had endless doctors visits, hospital scans, consultations and I'm left with a few answers but nothing truly conclusive. What I do know is my Doctor tells me my daughter was a miracle and that she is surprised I caught at all when I was 18. I have a tumour growing out of my uterus and my eggs do not grow big enough to be fertilised.

This is the loss I mourn.

I never thought it was possible to mourn something I never had. To crave the touch of a child's tiny fingers or the feeling of long nights or finding spaghetti in my hair 2 days later. But I do. Sometimes I sit and think about names I would have given them. I think about all of the decisions I wouldn't get wrong this time around. I think about how we are more financially able now and how guilty I would feel towards our daughter if we could provide everything for a new born we couldn't for her. I think about how our girl would fall asleep tickling the babies toes or how she would laugh and blow raspberries to make them giggle. I think about the feeling of morning sickness and belly burps. A growing bump and weird cravings. Ridiculous hormonal changes and crying for no reason. Our daughter wearing a big sister shirt and giving my partner a positive pregnancy test as a gift.

The look on his face.

I think about endless late nights, missed sleep and dirty nappies. Building a nursery, late night drives and bad family photos. Cradling our daughter to remind her she is still equally loved and having the discussion with my partner about how we need to make time for ourselves. I think about picking the best schools and even better holidays. Trying to punish less and reward more. Getting it right the second time and improving on the first.

I can stare into nothing and think of all of this in minutes or I can drift into a dream that feels endless.

On occasion when cleaning my daughters room, I have found myself picking up her dolls as I go to put them away, getting distracted and finding myself rocking them like a real baby. I still push the trolley back and fourth in the supermarket like a pushchair and still after 4 years of infertility and being told I'm likely to always be infertile...we still discuss baby names and use the words,

If we have another child

on more occasions than are probably healthy. Yet, I am still unaware if he hurts some days like I do. I believe it's different for men but no less painful. He likes to tell me,

We have a child, I'm happy not having more, it's nobodies fault, least of all yours.

But I still question it.

Some days I feel selfish for wanting something that others don't have at all. After all, I have a child. But then on other days I think about how so many undeserving people have so many children they don't care for or love like they should.

Then I'm reminded how lucky I am with a smile or a kiss from my girl.

I'm a 30 year old, emotionally cold, (at times) hard but loving, hardworking, loveable mother that simply wants the chance to be that a second time around. But unfortunately I never will.

To the husband to be that has made me feel unconditionally loved, no matter my medical history or status. I love you.

To the daughter I am so lucky to have, I'm sorry for sometimes wanting more. I never want more from you. I love you.

I just wanted the chance to decide for myself.

Loss is so terrible because we as human beings hold on to the idea that life is all about choice. Unfortunately, sometimes that choice is taken away.

In my situation, that choice was the creation of life.

I am Kayleigh, I'm a mother, a wife to be, a writer and a confessor. And this is my raw and emotional confession.

Thank you so much for reading my work and supporting me with your love. If you're feeling extra generous, how about a tip?

If you or anybody you know has suffered a loss or needs to talk to someone about your loss, I have linked several websites below to help you hopefully deal with that loss.

If you're aged 18-35, the website below is a great resource to talk to likeminded people and set up possible group meetings to help you deal with your loss:

The following website is a fantastic resource explaining the different stages of grief and informing you on the decisions and choices you do still have:

Secrets
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About the Creator

Kayleigh Taylor

Book, coffee and pet-obsessed writer who loves writing raw truths and fictional fantasies. I hope you enjoy.

Kayleigh

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