Tuesday, 3 June 2008

Bloody Infertility ...

There are times in your battle with infertility when you sit back, take time out, and just chill. You try not to let things bother you, you visit friends with babies, you may even look at cute kids in prams (without going 'Ouch!') and you just generally get on with life. You go out for dinners, drinks, go to parties, stay up late watching movies, have lie-ins on Sunday mornings (and Saturdays too if you want), have sex if and when you feel like it, and you generally enjoy being a couple together... Life feels good.

And then, whaddya know, it all comes back to bite you in the bum. Fecking infertility. It drives me mad. And it frustrates me, and it is just generally a pain in the ass.

I decided to go give blood today because it's been ages since my last donation, and it is, to be honest, something I've always felt a little guilty about not doing. So off I toddled to our local bank with a good book and volunteered myself. But they wouldn't take me. They couldn't take me. Because I'd had a laparoscopy recently. Pah! I have to wait at least six months since the lap before they will let me donate. The thing is, I feel fine, I've lost weight, I'm eating well and still they can't take my blood. And I'm not blaming them, I'm just bloody annoyed that stupid infertility has stopped me doing something I really wanted to do. Again.

It feels sometimes like IF takes over every little part of your life, well, my life. As a woman, you have to time holidays to fit round tests, you have to book appointments around work, you can't give blood if you've had surgery (fair enough I know, but I still blame infertility!), you have to watch what you eat, what you drink, what you do, you spend your free time surfing the internet for details on any and all forms of infertility, or else you're chasing specialists and gynie appointments... and all that is before you even start thinking about the effect it has on you emotionally. You avoid friends, you avoid family, you hate going to places where there's an abundance of prams, mothers, babies... you name it, you avoid it. You're sick of buying bloody folic acid and you're fed up with the whole rigmarole.

Right now, thanks to some silly insignificant thing like trying to give blood, all those emotions rouse up inside me and I'm fed up all over again.

I hate this bloody thing.

Ohhhh.... but it feels better just to let it all out. Thanks for listening.

And as for the lap? Well, it was fine, nothing wrong with me. Unexplained Infertility is the latest diagnosis.

Whoopee...

Thursday, 6 March 2008

Two for two (and nought for four)

A flying visit to a Nordic country was very much welcomed this week. Although the freezing cold wind wasn't...

I am just back from a Victimology conference where I presented my very first paper as an "academic", if you can really call me that (I still think I'm a secretary pretending to be an academic!). It was well received and there was a little bit of interest from a notable Irish representative, so fingers crossed something comes of that.

I also managed to complete my first ever lecture, by coincidence also on Victims of Crime, so all in all it's been a good week for me work-wise. Although I'm completely knackered from travelling, sitting in lectures and generally hob-nobbing with our Nordic cousins.

Speaking of work, it's still hectic and continues to be so with little room for rest and recuperation. The last few weeks I've been involved in my usual day-to-day responsibilities (obviously), organising a student conference, writing a lecture, writing and presenting a paper, and marking students work... Plus, we're trying to get this paper published so need to complete writing it up. I think I can safely say, it's only about half-way there right now.

However, I finally set myself a few days off to just generally chill out and catch up with the ever-increasing amount of housework that needs doing, but then I received details on a possible phd and decided to bite the bullet and put a phd application together. Nothing to it really, I've just got to write a few pages of proposal, including literature review, by next week... eeeeeekkkk..... No, I'm refusing to panic, at least not til tomorrow...

Despite all of the stress, my career, still in it's infancy, is taking it's first few wobbly steps and will hopefully be walking and running in no time. Feedback has been great and I'm working with a really interesting group of people. I'm enjoying it as much now as I did a year ago, even more so really...

On top of all of this, we had our fourth and last cycle of fertility treatment and that again failed. So we scored zero from four months of trying (and the odds were so good, I really thought it was all we needed). So no more clomid for me - which I have to say, I am actually quite happy about - and now we are waiting for a laparoscopy before I can move on to the dreaded iui and ivf. The jury is still out on it all right now, I guess I am just hoping, somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that it won't come to that. That we won't have to make that decision, but we are getting ever closer and have talked lots about it.

As my mother used to say when I asked for something she really didn't want to give me, We Will See.

Monday, 11 February 2008

It's been a while...

Twenty eight cycles to be precise. Twenty eight attempts to get pregnant, three of which with fertility drugs, and none have worked so far.

Right now, I feel I am reaching the end of the road.

We are into our fourth cycle of treatment, and physically, I am feeling ok this month. A little tired, a little crabby, but generally ok. Emotionally, I am also hanging in there and trying to stay positive.

But I have, I believe, started to accept that it may never happen to us. If one in six couples experience infertility, then hey - it's our bad luck that we have. But if 4 in 5 couple who attempt fertility treatment still fail to conceive, then I don't really like thinking about those odds.

I'm committed - we're both committed - to doing IUI if this cycle of clomid doesn't work, but I must admit to feeling a little scared about the injections, the drugs, the side effects, the stress...
Honestly, I'm not sure if I want to do IVF if that doesn't work. I never thought I'd feel this way, I've never understood people who've said they don't want to do IVF, but in the last few weeks, I have come to understand that perspective. WE have to come first. I'm not sure if I want to put our relationship through all of this over and over and over again. It's just not fair.

I've spoken to L and as always he's listened and been wonderful. But I think he too is relieved that we might one day draw a line under this. I want to be able to say: We've tried, we've tried as hard as we could, but we had to stop sometime.

I know I will feel differently when my period comes, if my period comes, and there will be times when I will never want to give up, but in all honestly, how much of this is fair - on both of us? Just writing this all down may help me in the next few months...

I have to let go on my desire to have a biological child, somehow, and get on with planning our future together.

I don't believe in "if it's meant to be, it will be" but I do believe in making the best of what you've got. And we've still got each other; and we're amazing together. So let's celebrate that for a while.

Thursday, 17 January 2008

Cycle 29, day 14

It's CD14, 3rd month on fertility drugs.

I'm umming and ahhing about this months cycle. I took clomid on CDs 3-7 (late because my period arrived so early last month we had no drugs with us when we were away for the weekend). The last two cycles I could feel golf balls in my belly by cd10 or 11. Nothing doing this time round. I had a scan on cd11 and there were only two small follicles - around 12mm and 16mm - as well as a few teeny ones, and my lining was a measly 6mm. Usually I'm well into the 20mm stakes by now and my lining's about 8mm so Gynie thought I'd another few days to go yet.

He offered me another scan later in the week but I figured I'd know when I was about to Ovulate (cue Buddha belly), so he was happy for me to go ahead with TSI (Timed Sexual Intercourse - how romantic!). L and I decided on a relaxed, every-other-day approach and the last couple of days my belly has been seriously sore and is starting to swell. I don't think I've OV'd yet, but then again, you never know.... I might get back to you on that one.

This is possibly our last attempt with clomid. By now, I've read all the statistics, I've responded well, and I really should've been pregnant last time around - I could tell by the look on my Gynie's face when I told him it hadn't happened. I've a 40% chance of conceiving within the first three months of clomid so there is still a lot of hope on this cycle, but Gynie has said in his opinion it's time to move to IUI if this one doesn't work.

IUI....
IUI!!!!!
Yikes.... Mr Google was kept busy after that appointment!

The plan is to do injectibles to stimulate my follicles, and then a trigger, followed by insemination. Gynie feels the injectibles will thicken my lining more (better than the clomid) and this will give us a better shot. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained!

So I guess I almost feel like this cycle is over already and have been thinking about the next step. I am reading up, discussing, thinking, debating IUI, statistics and all. Once you get on this rollercoaster of TTC it seems to take on a life of it's own, and I just follow, relieved that we are at least doing something now.

On that last note, I do feel we are fighting "proper" infertility now, if there is such a thing. Up to now, I've been feeling it's a mixture of bad luck and not trying hard enough. But honestly, how hard do you have to try after all these months? We've done the meds and they haven't worked (so far), and we're moving on to ART.

A year ago I was just one of "those women" who was probably seen as obsessing about TTC and was worrying about nothing; now we are gearing up for the most invasive treatment yet, and in all likelihood will be moving to IVF if our three attempts at IUI are not a blast.

And yet, all of this comes at a premium. We have paid to have this treatment, see this consultant, start these meds etc... The NHS saw us almost a year ago, gave us a clean bill of health and told us to go away for a year and get pregnant. Emmm, well that didn't quite work...
So really, we should still be waiting patiently for our next follow-up to discuss the next step (NHS consultant suggested possibly clomid if nothing had happened by Jan 08). And we realise how fortunate we are that we have the funds there for me to see my own gynie privately. I was going stir-crazy when no one wanted to know. I couldn't take month after month of hope, then despair, then hope again...

This month I received that follow-up appointment from the NHS; I'm back at the clinic in two weeks time for a review. I'm still going along to it because I want to tell the consultant how far we've come:
"Remember you told us you'd think about clomid in a year's time... well, we've been there, done that..."
(There's still a part of the Optimistic Me who hopes to add "AND HEY! Guess what?! We're pregnant - from clomid - after all!!!")

Private thoughts

Part of me regrets that we've had to do this privately. And part of me is relieved also. With the NHS, we should only be thinking about starting drugs sometime in the near future, so that iui, and ivf and all those other options would still be pipedreams. As it stands, we may possibly have our longed-for baby in the next 12 months or so.... or at least be far closer to it than if we were going public.
I hate that the system works that way, and I am so angry for all those other women who are just like me but can't afford to do what we are doing.
It's so unfair. But I thank God every day that we don't have to wait.

Monday, 7 January 2008

Happy New Year!

Welcome, welcome 2008!

I am looking forward - somewhat - to the coming 12 months. I am tirelessly optimistic. I even managed not to cry on New Year's Day - a first for me as I am often tearful when I consider my previous years existence!

2007 was a great success for me professionally - I am now working regularly as a Criminologist and finished the year with some positive news; a new 18-month contract on another research project, hurray! I am also one third of the way through my current course, a qualification in teaching in higher education, with great feedback so far.

2007 has also been another wonderful year with L. We have had numerous fun nights, both in and out, spent lots of time with friends and family, had plenty of holidays - the last of which was on the other side of the world! - and our relationship has grown and been stronger with each passing month. We are very happy together.

2008 offers us the possibility of increasing that happiness.

I have just started my third month of infertility treatment and am as confident and positive as I could possibly be. There is still oodles of hope, and there is plenty of time, so I refuse to feel anything less than confident. We are on Day 4 of my cycle so, who knows, this time next month could be expecting our first babe!

Happy New Year

GGxx

Monday, 10 December 2007

Desperate for an immaculate conception...

I've had better weeks. Things have been going from bad to fecking worse the last couple of days and I'm finding it really hard to keep my head above water lately.

Today/tomorrow our 30th cycle ttc will have ended and I am losing sight of us ever getting there. Our 30th cycle ends pretty much like all the rest; anticipation, hope, and eventually failure.

I'm so worn out, tired and emotional from all of this, I can't even express myself properly. All I know is, we are both so sad and we are running out of options. We have a couple of cycles of clomid left and then we have to start thinking about ivf ...

I can't stop crying these days as yet more and more friends and family announce their good news. Tis the season to be jolly? I can't think happy thoughts about Christmas. All I want - all we want - for Christmas, is the one thing we just can't have and there is no rhyme or reason for it.

And to top it all, I think our lack of a baby is making people feel awkward around us. In fact, I know that people dread telling me they are pregnant, and there's nothing I can do to make that better. I wish to goodness I could be really happy when people tell us their news - and I am happy for them of course - but I also feel so full of despair and desperation for our own situation at the same time, that their happiness is always tinged with my/our own sadness. I have hidden too many tears these last few weeks, and shed too many also.

Every time someone tells me they are pregnant, I mentally count the months til their due date and tell myself that maybe, just maybe, by the time their baby comes along I'll be pregnant. Then I'll be fine. But I have gone from one friends pregnancy, to anothers, and anothers and anothers... and no, I haven't lost count - I have plenty of baby announcement cards to remind me of their happy events - and we have never managed it. When my friend told me in September that she was due in February, I felt SO SO sure that we would be pregnant by then - we were just starting out on clomid and I was convinced it would work first time. But it didn't, or the second time, and we haven't managed to get pregnant this month either.

And I'm fast running out of opportunities before February so I have had to resolve myself that it won't happen by then. But now there are other babies due in April, May and June... surely we could be pregnant before then, couldn't we? Frankly, I'm not feeling so confident about that either right now.

Plus, I think people are acting like we're doing it wrong or something, by not being pregnant yet. It's almost like "well, you can't be doing it right, otherwise it'd happen by now" or "you've just got to have more sex". AHHH!!! So I would like to take this opportunity right now to say we are doing it right, thank you very much, and we are having lots and lots of sex, thank you also for your interest, now please feck off and mind your own business!!

I pulled out my gynie paperwork tonight and looked over our test results from the last few months and they are all "perfect". There is absolutely nothing wrong with the numbers, the results, the figures. Everything is so-called perfect; and yet we still cannot conceive.

I'm just finding it really hard to conceive of us ever conceiving... Praying for a miracle

GG

Wednesday, 28 November 2007

Frustration and Hope

I shouldn't have been so bloody happy; I should've seen this coming...

The twin torments, Frustration and Hope, paid me a visit at 5.30 this morning. Thankfully, they didn't wake L, at least initially.

Of course, Frustration arrived first; huffing and puffing, stomping around my room, snarling, red hair billowing, muscles shining, with something of the amazonian woman in her stance. She stomped and clenched and stormed and generally made much of a fuss as she woke me from my slumber.

"WHY does it have to be ME? Why indeed US? Why can't we have a baby??? Why will nothing work? Why! Why? WHY?!? IT'S NOT FAIR!!!" she thundered. I could only agree with her. It carried on for some time.... "How long do we have to wait? What have we done to be punished this way? Why can't we just be NORMAL?!?!?!"

Just when I was thinking I would never fall back asleep and the tears began, in wafted Hope. In fact, she glided in, clothes lithe and flowing, hair long and soft, face gentle. "Hush hush" she softly said. "Out with you.."

There was a bit of a tussle between her and Frustration but eventually Frustration stomped off, looking for somewhere else to vent at 6am. No doubt she'll be back.

Hope softened, touched, cuddled, soothed. "It WILL happen, you have to believe it. It WILL happen." Her mantra itself could put me to sleep. She was dream-like, blithe, effervescent. "This is our month; this is it. It WILL happen. You have to BELIEVE it."

She shushed and comforted and soothed me, gentle hands across my brow, gentle thoughts to slow my beating heart, comfort, comfort.

"It WILL happen".

And so I fell back asleep for a time. Frustration and Hope had come and gone, in equal measures.

Of course, now I worry their cousin Despair may put in an appearance some time soon. There's only so much a girl can cope with, and banshee-like wailing and flailing is not a pleasant thought.

I shouldn't have been so bloody happy; I should've seen this coming...