But what about adoption?


I am so f**king sick of that question. I don’t even know what to say anymore. 

Of course we have talked about adoption and my reasons for not adopting are none of your business. 

Why do people ask such a stupid question? 

What do you say when people ask you? 


Bad Days

This is the back of my car. I keep a box of tissues there for when I am crying so hard I have to pull over. I leave them there until I can throw them out when no one will see. 

I use the cream to take the running mascara and make-up off my face. It is better than using dry tissues because then you don’t get the redness. 

It’s been a bad day. 


Microblog: Pity vs Empathy

Pity:  the feeling of sorrow and compassion caused by the suffering and misfortunes of others

Empathy: the ability to understand and share the feelings of another

It’s a subtle difference but it is there.  I don’t need you to feel sorry for me but I do need you to try and understand and to try and support us in our journey.

Pity: “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you – you must find it so painful to even carry on trying”.

Empathy: “I am sorry you have to go through this and I am sure it isn’t easy to keep trying”.

See the difference?



A Plan

After what felt like many months of waiting, we have a plan. A path forward. I think that’s supposed to make me feel better but it isn’t. 

We met with our Fertility Clinic Doctor today for the results from the karyotype testing (analysis?) that was done on the last miscarried “tissue” (can we please say baby?! Because that’s what it was) and on ourselves. The “tissue” failed to culture, so no results there and our karyotyping was fine. So was the last HSG and all the antibody testing. As he so succinctly put it “I can’t tell you why you are miscarrying”. 

As usual everything is perfect. Just like all our tests. Just as he can’t tell us whywe couldn’t  get pregnant without intervention. 

So our next step is a frozen embryo transfer IVF cycle. We don’t know when that will start as I need one more period first and then there is the waitlist and Christmas is coming soon. 

I know I should be happy nothing is seriously wrong and that we have next steps. But having a plan doesn’t mean anything anymore. IVF cycles fail, we could miscarry again but worst of all we are back to more waiting. 

Waiting while everyone around us is having their babies and it hurts so much. 

This dream of ours is starting to slip away. I am running out of steam. I have already done more treatments and spent more money than anyone I know in real life. Friends that started this journey with us have all moved on. 

We are alone. 

October 15

It is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.   Tonight we will light a candle for our three Angel Babies and we will remember them.  Jonah. Daisy. Amal. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them or where I “should be” in the pregnancy I most recently lost.  I would have found out the gender by now. I should be wearing maternity clothes.  We would have started shopping for things and painting the room.  All dreams  and wishes and nothing more.

I hope that one day the stigma of talking about miscarriage will be gone.  I hope one day couples won’t chose to go through the pain alone and isolated in their misery.  I hope that one day we can support each other better.

Let’s start to open up the dialogue like clinical psychologist Jessica Zucker has with her Honest Miscarriage Cards.



We have spent the last four days in Mexico. Blissfully escaping. Doing nothing. We needed this trip, we needed it like oxygen.

We have taken “breaks” before but after the third miscarriage the break took on a different form. We stopped talking about having a child of our own. We tried to focus inward on healthy living and eating and work but really it was all a distraction. A way to redirect our focus away from the pain. In hopes that it might just heal on its own.

The trip was a relatively last minute decision, we knew we were going we just didn’t know when. And then one day it became perfectly clear. Let’s go before the next doctor’s appointment (an important one) and during Canadian Thanksgiving. A chance to miss a family-centered holiday is always welcome. I spent last Thanksgiving outside alone, under the stars on a chilly night, crying for the family I might never have. The Thanksgiving that might never look like generations and extended family around a table but instead a lonely old couple with memories of a dog long since deceased.

This Thanksgiving Sunday will be business class home from a resort in paradise. A definite improvement.

So now, as the sun sets and I am outside sipping sparkling wine, I can tell you this is exactly what we needed. We didn’t do anything. We didn’t even have the long meaningful discussions about life and our future that I envisioned we would have. We slept in, we ate when we wanted to, drank when we wanted (and even over indulged one night – what a feeling, to just let go), swam in the pool, lounged on chairs, played in the ocean and read books. Nothing.   Away from the constant humming fear of losing our jobs in our boom & bust town. It is a like the buzz of a hummingbird, who’s safe, who isn’t and who’s next.

But mostly importantly away from the grim reality of five years trying to conceive, three miscarriages and countless everything that has come along with it. Because after we get back we will have an appointment that tells us if there is a path forward or not.

And if there is, that means back to acupuncture and herbs and foods that will tonify my blood. To a caffeine-free, limited alcohol life because underneath it all there is a growing sense of desperation. Of starting to run out of options, time and resources.

So for now, for a few more hours at least, I am escaping.