♡ Made by a Mumma who has been there before ♡

Miracle Mumma

  • "I'm not saying it's going to be easy, I'm saying it's going to be worth it"

    This week we hit the 12-week mark which meant I had multiple appointments, and multiple opportunities to see our little bean bouncing about – and that it did! We have an active little one on our hands this time – it’s probably all that space it has in that big septum-less uterus…I’d be doing somersaults too! I thought this week was busy and tiring with 3 appointments in 4 days but man I was so not prepared for what’s ahead. All I can say is thank goodness for grandparents, coffee and a bloody big calendar! It just means that I have a lot to report in this blog, so feel free to fall asleep at any point!
  • The 'High-Risk' Road to Come...Infusions, Scans & Another Pre-Term Delivery

    Since announcing our baby news, I have had a lot of people wish us a healthy and long pregnancy and say, ‘at least the hardest part is over’. And while that is partly true, unfortunately our pregnancy will be high risk and filled with its own struggles. Most people assume this means we will be monitored closely for signs of premature birth with more frequent scans and cervical length checks...yes, my vagina should just set up its own display! However, given the surgical removal of my uterine septum which aimed to give our baby more room to grow, I am crossing everything (mostly my legs when they’re not spread for scans) that this has reduced our risk! The biggest concern is something completely unrelated to this which I will explain now, but will cause our baby to be born premature regardless…
  • We finally did it! We made a baby!

    So as most of you are aware, in June I decided to get a second opinion and as a result I had my third surgery in 13 months to improve my fertility and decrease our chances of premature birth – a hysteroscopic D&C and septum resection, a laparoscopic excision of endometriosis (which after two previous surgeries I didn’t even know I had), and dye studies. We were then told to wait 3 months to let my body heal and give us the best chances of conceiving our rainbow baby. While this whole experience seemed like another step backward (and it was), I truly believe it is the reason I am pregnant today. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that getting a second opinion and finding a doctor that I trust and who was willing to get to the root of our problems was imperative to our success. I mean, it’s amazing what can happen when endometriosis is properly diagnosed and removed, hey!?   
  • Update! Our Journey to Baby #2: You Matter

    A week ago I had my appointment with my new fertility specialist at Repromed who had been recommended to me by a couple of friends. I have blogged in the past about my previous experience with Repromed being quite clinical and how I felt like a ‘number’, so going back there made me feel a little anxious. But to my surprise, I walked in there and felt somewhat comfortable. I nearly wrote ‘at home’, but that’s a bit of a stretch! In hindsight, I think my feelings associated with Repromed were more to do with my own anxieties rather than the care I received. Anyway, Dr Y called me through and the first thing he said was ‘sorry for keeping you waiting, I was reading your history and really wanted to understand your story before we talked’. Immediate ‘tick’, I liked this guy! And then he said ‘Wow you are so lucky to have James’. Two ticks, what a bloody legend!
  • Opening up about loss: it takes a village

    On Tuesday, as I drove down to have the ultrasound that I knew would change our future one way or the other, I was surprisingly confident. Yes I was terrified that our fate was already determined and there was nothing I could do to change it, but somewhere inside there was hope. Scott met me there and the first thing I noticed was the terror in his eyes. As we were sitting and waiting, he said “I hate this. I’ve never been excited for an ultrasound. Not once, not even with James. We have never had a good experience.” It tore me apart to think that we will never get to celebrate a pregnancy the way others do. We will never get to experience those exciting normality’s without being plagued with fear. Our past experiences had taken that away from us and taught us to be cautious in order to protect our hearts.
  • And now we wait...

    On Monday, I woke at midnight to go to the toilet and noticed my underwear was wet. I just thought I was sweating (eww, I know) or had a little light bladder leakage (yes, it's real) but when I peed, the toilet bowl filled with bright blood. At that moment, everything just stopped. I've felt this feeling too many times but I still can't describe it - everything literally comes crashing down & there's nothing left but numbness...
  • We're having a freaking baby!

    The day after I posted my last blog (reminder: negative pregnancy test, irregular cycle & full blown meltdown), I decided to take another test. I was nauseous and tired, and I just felt like something was up, but I had convinced myself I was imagining these symptoms (don't tell me you haven't done it before!) Sure enough, it was negative and I walked away feeling stupid for being a serial pee-on-a-stick offender. A couple of minutes later I walked past the test and saw two lines. The second one was super faint, but it was there. The first thing I did? I giggled! Like you do when you're tipsy & everything is hilarious. I'm putting that down to shock and disbelief...I couldn't believe it. In fact I didn't.
  • Update: Our Journey to Baby #2 (Part Six)

    Today I realised I'm not at all keen on doing the infertility thing again. I'm not playing the constant questioning and waiting game and wasting months while my body dances to it's own fricken beat! So I called Dr S's office, and have booked in to chat about starting clomid. I honestly thought I was strong enough to try on our own & convinced myself we could do it naturally, but it's not worth it. It's now been a year since we decided we wanted another baby, and I'm ready for James to be a big brother. Like now!  
  • Update: Our Journey to Baby #2 (Part Five)

    After my successful uterine septum resection surgery in November, I have had a period and we are currently in our first cycle of trying to conceive baby #2! I’m pretty sure I even ovulated all on my own like a big girl! We are obviously super excited but I’m going to be honest, I’ve had a few freak-out moments! Mostly, I’m worried that I won’t love my second child as much as I love James. I know this sounds silly, but after almost 2 years trying to conceive, a miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy and a scary premature birth, James is our little miracle who we thought we might never meet. I almost feel greedy for wanting to add another little babe to the mix.
  • The struggle is part of the story

    My name is Amy. I’m 28 years old and grew up in the Adelaide Hills. I’m a Registered Nurse, and I love coffee – I think these two things go hand in hand! I’m also a wife to Scott, and a Mum to a healthy, happy 20-month-old boy named James. From the outside looking in, my life is pretty textbook, and pretty perfect. And it is! But there’s a reason people say, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ – because you might miss an amazing story. And this is mine… 
  • Our Journey to Baby #2 (Part Four): We can't catch a break!

    Dr L had done his research and read our notes, so I didn’t have to repeat our story. He knew that we’d had a rough time and he understood that I felt ignored. We discussed the surgery and Dr L was honest…my (uterine) septum was thick, and it was challenging. One of the first things he asked me is ‘how far are you willing to go?’, but I had no idea that he meant literally....
  • Our Journey to Baby #2 (Part Three): It Shouldn't Be This Hard

    On Monday, I finally had the diagnostic HSG (hysterosalpingogram) required to determine the success of my uterine septum resection surgery. In other words, they took some fancy pictures to check how much septum was remaining in my uterus after they had attempted to remove it. After getting into a gown and having the procedure explained, the radiographer left the room to organise her team. I sat butt-naked on the side of the cold bed feeling completely exposed thinking ‘it shouldn’t be this hard’. I was over it…the invasive procedures, the constant appointments, the poking and prodding, the clinical and sterile aspect to what was meant to be a natural part of life. I felt like an experiment. Sitting here writing this now, I can feel the same heaviness in my chest and the lump in my throat as when I was sitting in that cold, empty room fighting back the tears.