One year ago Carlos died. Flushed in the toilet. Carlos is not a gold-fish, Carlos was my embryo of six weeks. I might sound very raw to you when you read this, but reality is raw. These things happen in life but it’s not a topic you talk about for small talk. I know I won’t change the way people think about this taboo, but maybe some women that had the same experience will feel understood an at least I can put this behind myself. I’m not sad anymore. Why did I call him Carlos? With my husband we decided that if we would have a baby we would give him the name Charel or Charlotte. But since the embryo died, it wasn’t the real Charel/Charlotte so my friend named him Carlos, to talk about him more easily.
Carlos wasn’t meant to be. In fact, I never planned to be pregnant, it just happened and I was happy about it when I found out. I remember telling my mother before even I told my husband and she was so happy for us. I will never forget my husband’s eyes when I told him, he was something between shocked, proud, full of fear and content. That was quite a moment.
Those moments where almost the only satisfying moments of my very short pregnancy and maybe also the fact that my mother came over to my house every day to look after me and to clean up my house. I hated the rest. I HATED being pregnant! The swollen feet during the heat wave where unbearable. We always have shitty weather in Luxembourg, except when I happen to be pregnant. Thank you very much mother nature! And because that wasn’t enough, there was also the pollen allergy. When you’re pregnant you can’t take medication and I am super allergic to pollen. The result was a permanent conjunctivitis and unstoppable sneezing. Not to forget that I was tired as fuck, crying for no reason and sitting on the toilet half of the day.
When the doctor told us that I lost Carlos, it hurt, psychologically and physically, and I cried. But I was relieved. Don’t judge please. I wasn’t ready to be a mother, to change my life completely. Why would I want to change something that I love so much? My life is great right now. My husband, my dogs, my job, my social life, my holidays, I love it all. Why would I want to change that for a child, for the unknown? You know what you have but you don’t know what you will get. I love what I have and I don’t want to change it soon.
I know that fertility starts to decline for women from about the age of 30, dropping down more steeply from the age of 35. As women grow older the likelihood of getting pregnant falls while the likelihood of infertility rises. Most women will be able to conceive naturally and give birth to a healthy baby if they get pregnant at 35 years old. After 35 years, the proportion of women who experience infertility, miscarriage or a problem with their baby increases. By the age of 40 only two in five of those who wish to have a baby will be able to do so. I’m 32 and already had a miscarriage but I’m sorry I don’t hear that so-called clock ticking. When I hear “Tick Tock”, the only things that comes to my mind is the song by Ke$ha.
I hate it when people want to convince me that it’s just a phase, that I will sooner or later want to be a mother, that I would be a perfect mother and that I don’t know what I’m saying right now. But who are they to think for me? Thank you very much but I am totally able to think for myself. I don’t see myself as a mother. It’s okay for me when mothers talk about their child as their treasure, the best thing of their life, that they enjoyed every single painful second pushing a football out of their palomita, that they don’t hear them scream as I hear them scream at the super market when they are being a spoiled asshole, that they enjoy staying at home while their clique is out for dinner, that they love going to Center Parks instead to a round trip through South Africa and that they prefer to save their money for education. I don’t judge them, I let them live. But one thing is sure, I don’t want to share with the unknown and there is nothing to blame about it. It’s my and my husband’s decision for now. Never say never.
Usually I don’t write posts like this, parts of it are sad, and I don’t want my readers to be sad. This is why I will post a video of me and my friends acting like morons in my living room on the song we recorded at a studio in Frankfurt during my hen night. Thank you guys for always being there for me since more than a decade. You’re the best!