Today I am sharing a short journal entry about my road towards motherhood, one written some time ago, but as I am too tired to work on something new, this it is it for today. My journey to motherhood was rather rocky, and in fact started with a pregnancy that I was not expecting, or wanting. I had told myself for many years as a young woman I was not going to have children! However at about the 10 week mark, the hormones kicked in, and the thought of having my own child became something quite delightful. As they say, never say never! And so, just as the excitement was building up, I had a miscarriage at 14 weeks. I was sad, but not devastated. My next planned pregnancy failed too, at about 14 weeks. This time, it was not so easy to get back up, the fear of what might be wrong with me appeared, the loss of a baby that no-one would ever have properly acknowledged, no ritual of goodbye, just a nurse pulling the blinds open the morning following the curette to say it was time to get up. Third time lucky I thought… one more try. This I was told was a twin pregnancy, and apart from the constant morning sickness, I thought everything was going perfectly. And, I had wanted twins. However at about 17 weeks, it was discovered at a routine scan they were dead. It was caused from a hydatidaform mole, a rare mass or growth that forms inside the uterus at the beginning of a pregnancy, and rarely in a twin pregnancy. It also causes intense morning sickness. The mole had killed one foetus early on and was growing in its place, and then killed the second baby. In twin pregnancies apparently it is not unusual to miss the second heart beat in the first couple of months as one baby often is behind the other, and so it was not picked up earlier that one had died much earlier. I was this time, totally devastated. Back then there was no funeral allowed, no ritual to say goodbye or remember them by, no visitors with condolences or flowers, and my life was expected to go on as if nothing had happened. It was the first time I understood the reality if wanting to steal another woman’s new born baby, as I felt alone and lost, and importantly, without my babies! This of course did not last, but it has always inspired me to suggest to other women to have a ritual of some kind following a miscarriage, even if it is just a burning candle and a prayer, but something to recall the date so that if the following year you are still sad, there is a day to remember, an anniversary that can replace where in other cases of death would have been a funeral. I decided then pregnancy and motherhood was not for me, and accepted contraception easily once more. Another unexpected and unplanned pregnancy, and viola, a wonderful son. How lucky was I that the Universe came though, sending me a wonderful little baby who has turned into an incredible young human being. It is incredible how the pain of death, and the pain of birth, can be so easily overcome with love.