My secret twin

I’m just fully of bloggy goodness today, aren’t I? I want to tell you guys about my secret twin. She lives in Melbourne and the parallels between our lives are just downright scary. Our husbands have the same name, we were born in the same year, we both have one brother 3.5 years older than us and now we’re both driving 2008 ex-Coca Cola Ravs. The list goes on and on, right down to the fact that we even have the same exact shade of crappy not-brown yet non-blonde hair.

The one place where we have differed is in our journey of trying to conceive, unfortunately she tried for two years before finding out she needed to have IVF which was partially why I had myself convinced that my husband and I would need IVF too. Here’s where we begin to parallel one another again, though, after four cycles of IVF and on her first cycle of a fresh batch of eggs she got pregnant only to lose her baby at 6 weeks (I hope she doesn’t mind me linking but you can read about it here). We didn’t need IVF which is the big difference, we got pregnant in our first cycle trying only to lose our baby at 9 weeks. She had to wait a long cycle that was 9 weeks long to try again, we had to wait a long cycle that was 6 weeks long before we could try again. She then got pregnant on that cycle so if we get pregnant this cycle we’ll be back in alignment. If we’d both kept our babies, I would’ve been four months behind her in my pregnancy, if I get pregnant this cycle I’ll be back to being four months behind her in my pregnancy.

When I first got pregnant we would talk every day for hours about my pregnancy. At the time I had no idea how much this must have killed her. My newly pregnant self was smug in her assuredness that nothing would go wrong. I was sure that everything was going to be perfect and when she got pregnant meaning that she would be due in the same month as me I was ecstatic, sure that everything was going to come up roses but alas it wasn’t meant to be.

Unlike my secret twin, I couldn’t bear to hear her updates on her pregnancy. Where she had been able to listen to me blabber on for hours about how excited I was, I pulled away from her. I have never actively avoided her calls or interacting with her but I certainly didn’t ask her about her pregnancy the way she had with me. So I’ve found that that’s where we differ. As alike as we may be, she is a far, far nicer person than me. I’m so glad that I have her in my life and I’m writing this post so that she knows this.

There are so many people in my life that I am grateful for. People who support me when I’m having a rough time like these last two months. I could write a blog about each and every one of them, there are definitely a few that come to mind immediately like the friend who emails me every day and even lent me her car when mine broke down, the friend who called me from America as soon she heard about my miscarriage even though she was on a holiday but here’s a more recent example. I posted that last post of mine on Facebook earlier. Straight away I got the loveliest message from (try and stay with me here) my husband’s cousin’s girlfriend asking me if I want to hang out next week for some girly time because I sounded like I needed it. With people like this is my life I know that I will make it through this even though sometimes it’s still incredibly hard teetering on the edge of that pit.