The day we were told it was unlikely to happen for us and we sat in the corridor and cried for what felt like days. Then wiped our tears and Hubbie went to work and I sat on the train so numb I don't recall where I went and what I did.
Attending infertility appointments sitting in the same waiting room as pregnant women - feeling like a failure, ashamed, angry and wishing I was anywhere but there.
Turning up for an appointment having left work early to be told there was no consultant there that day and to rearrange. I felt invisible.
The last appointment we ever went to - we both arrived first thing waited for almost 3 hours as every other woman was seen and finally they told us they'd lost our file. That's how little we mattered.
Deciding that this was just not for us - if our marriage was going to be all about pills and tests and embryos and waiting and wishing for a maybe.
The invasive process of being assessed for adoption. Having strangers walk through our home and tell us it wasn't big enough. Answering questions about past relationships, being interviewed by a panel of 13 people who would decide if we were 'suitable' to be parents.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
Making peace with the reality of never being parents. In as much as you can do that.
Falling pregnant with Big Boy. Joy at last. Family finally admitting how much it meant to them too.
Trying - and failing - to repeat the miracle.
Going through the adoption merry-go-round all over again. This time with the added consideration of how this would affect our boy.
Meeting Baby Boy. Knowing immediately that this was our second son.
Now we feel like a family. Finally.
That was what the programme reminded me about. It never goes away.