Maybe it's my mindset

“There’s nothing there.” The first words my husband says after I’m wheeled back in from the recovery room after my hysteroscopy.

My first words in return should probably have been something along the lines of: “That’s great. I’m so pleased”, accompanied by a huge sense of relief. So why were they actually: “Oh. Really? Nothing at all?” accompanied by something definitely resembling disappointment?

The only ‘irregularities’ the (gorgeous, handsome, lovely) consultant could detect were that my uterus tips backwards - which I knew already, and which he said happens in 15% of women – and a few ‘folds’ here and there, but neither should pose any real threat to becoming or being pregnant.

(By the way, I am officially in love with the consultant. I have told my husband this and he is fine with it so I don’t feel like I’m being deceitful. In fact, my husband admitted to having a small man crush on him anyway.)

So, this is something I can cross off my list. I am still 38, I still have thin lining and a short luteal phase, but I definitely do not have any irregularities on my uterus. This surely can only be a positive thing. So why did I feel disappointed?

Because if truth be told, I wanted this to be the reason I’m not getting pregnant. I wanted it to be the unquestionable, solid reason. But it’s not.

I can completely see the ungrateful, selfish side to this. And, actually, I’m ashamed of feeling like this at all. In the last month or so since I joined this online community of women trying to get pregnant, I have been horrified by what some people are having to face, the adversities they have to overcome, the immense rollercoaster of feelings they have to endure – all to achieve what we were surely put on this earth to do naturally.

I may have shortcomings but there is nothing significant anyone can point to, no major obstacles or health issues that would stop me from getting pregnant. And as I write this and think about all the amazing women out there who are having to deal with a lot more and bigger challenges than I am right now, I realise just how lucky I am and that I should be grateful.

Maybe it’s my mindset that has to change. I have to truly believe I do deserve this, that I will make a good mother, and that one day – soon – I will experience the euphoria of being pregnant and giving birth to a beautiful, healthy baby.

So, as I cross the ‘irregularity’ off my list of shortcomings and with it the accompanying shadow that’s been hanging over me in the last few months, I also reduce the number of reasons I may not get pregnant. This frees up some head space and means I can concentrate on tackling the next thing on the list.

Age isn’t an easy thing to remedy - I can’t go back in time. But surely there’s something I can do about my thin lining?

Excuse me while I go and phone the nutritionist...

Until next time.

Juno ☺

10 stupid things I've asked Google lately

1. Am I pregnant?
2. Will I get pregnant?
3. Will I get pregnant soon?
4. When will I get pregnant?
5. Why am I not pregnant yet?
6. Will I get pregnant if I’m 38?
7. Will I get pregnant if I have thin lining?
8. Will I get pregnant with a short luteal phase?
9. Will I get pregnant with an irregularity in my uterus?
10. Will I get pregnant if I’m 38, have thin lining, a short luteal phase and an irregularity in my uterus?

Strangely, I didn't get the answers I was looking for.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

Every cloud...

The bad news is, I got my period this week.

But the good news is, I did quad biking and clay pigeon shooting...yay!! So there you go, every cloud... Actually, the quad biking and clay pigeon shooting weren’t really the silver lining. They were just activities I got to do during a work team-building trip. And they were good fun.

The trip was certainly a welcome break from the tedium of the office where, since my two best friends were told their services were no longer needed, I’ve had to spend the majority of my time with the following:

• a guy who perpetually has his head so far up my boss’s backside I can’t actually remember what he looks like
• a lady whose sole purpose in life is to make really big, really complicated, really useless spreadsheets about nothing very much and then make me spend hours at a time discussing them with her
• my boss who, ironically, looks like a cross between Alexei Sayle, Bill Bailey and Dara O’Briain. The irony is in the fact that they’re all arguably talented, funny and entertaining comedians and my boss has the personality of a gnat.

So, the actual silver lining? I didn’t get my period until 11 days DPO. This is really quite good for me, even if it did only last for one single, solitary day (seriously, what's going on there??).

Obviously, I wasn’t entirely delighted to get the sodding thing at all, but if I’m going to get it I’d rather it was vaguely at the right time.

So this one brings me to the end of Cycle 12 and ever nearer to the hysteroscopy. On Wednesday next week, they’ll make me wear one of those delightful hospital gowns, prod me and poke me, put me to sleep, shove their camera up my lady bits and into my uterus, take a look at what the offending ‘irregularity’ is and presumably get rid of it.

Whatever it is, and whatever they do with it, I hope it’s the reason I haven’t been getting pregnant.

Until next time.
Juno ☺

I may have shortcomings but I’m not infertile

Admittedly, there are a few things conspiring against me in the quest for my ultimate goal of pregnancydom (this is my latest made-up word – see previous blog for ‘feetal’).

These few factors are, in no particular order:

1. My age (38). I know many people would at this point throw stats at me about how many people over the age of 40 are having babies these days. Of course I find that encouraging and I try to cast my thoughts in that direction at my lowest points. But still, biologically and physiologically speaking, we’re not talking buckets of time.

2. My poor excuse for a period, which is both light and short (one and a half days in case you’re wondering, and I can just about justify using a ’normal’ tampax at the heaviest point).

3. My relatively short luteal phase (the bit between ovulation and menstruation). This should be around 14 days but mine tends to be around 10-11 days.

4. The ‘irregularity’ on my uterus wall (see previous blogs).

So, I may well have a few shortcomings but I am not, as far as I’ve been told by the medical experts, infertile. ‘Infertility’ seems to have become the accepted word when talking about anyone trying to get pregnant. It seems to be everywhere I look at the moment. Obviously, I am looking in relevant places bearing in mind my current interest in this topic but most websites, blogs, articles and tweets seem to constantly refer to it.

Maybe it’s because there’s no other reasonable option (first glance at a thesaurus for synonyms throws up sterility, barrenness, aridity...). But I think it’s inaccurate to place women, who are trying to conceive and who have every reason and right to believe it will happen one day, in the infertility category.

As I seem to have developed a new habit of making up words, I should really think of a new one for this very situation... umm.... inconceivability... unpregnancy....

I’ll keep thinking.

Any suggestions?

Until next time.

Juno ☺

Is reflexology the new cure for infertility?

A fairly old article but just came across it...

http://tinyurl.com/ba8vjd

Until next time
Juno ☺

My reflexologist should be a stand-up

It's Day 18 and I’ve been immersed up to my eye-balls in the paranoid phase over the last few days - questioning, wondering and worrying about anything and everything - and I’m now drifting rapidly and uncontrollably towards the obsessive compulsive stage.

Examinations and analysis of every twinge, discharge, mood and breath have begun in earnest and I expect these to intensify as the days go on until my body reaches one of two natural conclusions.

In the meantime, I have been doing what I can to stay sane – writing this blog is definitely helping but I've also been having reflexology. I'm fairly new to this alternative healing art but am finding it increasingly therapeutic.

Besides which, my reflexologist is a complete hoot and has me in fits of laughter within minutes of lying back in that comfortable old chair of hers - presumably a rather cunning technique to distract me from the incredibly painful shenanigans occurring around my feetal area (that’s feetal, not foetal).

I have been frequenting this shed of torture-slash-comedy for a few months now in the expectant hope that these sessions are helping to unblock whatever jumbled up mess or confusion is going on inside this body of mine.

At the very least, they give me the gift of laughter for an hour or so and for that I’m very grateful.

Until next time.
Juno ☺

So many questions, so few answers

This is in lots of ways the best bit - but also the worst.

The first few days after ovulation, I pretty much relax in the knowledge we've done everything we can. I'm also quietly hopeful at this point. However a few days in, I start to think about what might be happening in there and whether everything is as it's supposed to be. Then I start getting paranoid about what I should or shouldn't be doing.

Should I go swimming? Should I spend more time lying down? Should I not go swimming? Should I spend more time standing up? Should I eat lots of chocolate? Obviously the answer to the last question is always yes, regardless of the circumstances.

And after the paranoid stage comes the obsessive compulsive stage. I'm sure I got that white/yellow/blue stain in my knickers three days earlier/later last month....I don't remember my breasts getting sore in Month 3, 6, 7 or 10...maybe there's some kind of formula I don't know about....is this definitely Day 18? I'd better count for the 14th time....what does the internet say about feeling thirsty on Day 19?...omigod is that blood??!!!

This month, my feelings during these phases will all be heightened. Not only is it Month 12, marking a year since we first started trying, but it's also the last month of trying before my hysteroscopy. Although I'm trying not to think too much about it, I'm a little bit nervous about having it done, wondering what they might find or perhaps worse, what they might leave behind.

I have a feeling what they'll find is scar tissue from when they removed a polyp two years ago. But when they remove scar tissue, don't they just leave more scar tissue? And how much can scar tissue affect the chances of implantation?

I think what you'll probably deduce from reading this blog entry is that I have lots of unanswered questions rattling around my head. And I think that's the crux of the matter with infertility. There are an infinite amount of questions and very few answers - even from the experts.

If anyone has any, I'd be very keen to know.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

Look what I got this morning...

Yay!

Month 12, Day 12...there's a certain symmetry in that.

The rollercoaster ride continues.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

And the prize for the winning insult goes to...

I turned into a prize bitch last night. Usually, I’m a sensitive soul and don’t like to row as I find it so difficult to deal with. But last night I really went for it.

This is not something to be proud of. I seemed to turn into evil monster who could only say nasty, horrible things - all to my adored husband. At one point during the peak of my rantings I called him ‘an f’ing insensitive uncaring bastard’. I think I vaguely heard him mumble something about me being ‘an irrational fruitbat’ but to be fair to him, he kept calm throughout the entire episode.

I hurled abuse for about half an hour, then stomped about the flat slamming doors and banging things, then I cried, then he hugged me, then I cried some more, and then we went to sleep.

And the reason for this drama? I have absolutely no idea. It came out of nowhere and was about nothing very much at all. But I am fully aware that I needed no real reason, that I just needed to let rip.

There are a lot of raw feelings and emotions bubbling beneath the surface when you’re trying to get pregnant. For both sides.

So, the opportunity to vent those feelings can sometimes seem too enticing to miss. But with the person you know and love the most, who’s as vulnerable and bruised as you are? Not ideal.

This morning I vowed never to do that to him again. I hope I stick to it.

Until next time.
Juno ☺

'Big baby' risk

Spotted this interesting little nugget in the Evening Standard and thought I'd share it.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

You're not the only one, Jennifer Aniston

So, on the front of this week's Grazia is the headline: "Jen: Baby news that's stunned Hollywood".

I immediately wondered what could be so incredibly shocking to the whole of Hollywood that had to do with both Jennifer Aniston and some news about a baby?

Did Jen announce she hated all babies and never ever wanted to see one again? Did she declare she was pregnant with octuplets and they were all different nationalities? Did she reveal she would never be able to have a baby?

I could see how any of those revelations might have stunned Hollywood.

But no, the apparently surprising news is that, "After years of speculation, Jennifer Aniston has boldly stated she plans to become a mother by the end of 2011."

She's 41 and female. This is shocking news?

I suppose I'd better call the local Gazette first thing tomorrow then.

Until next time.
Juno ☺

At least we're having lots of sex

Sometimes I forget there are two of us going through this. I don't doubt that as a woman, I feel it more acutely. After all, it's my body, my hormones, my biological clock.

But my husband has feelings about this too. He also wants to have children and sometimes I forget that. If I'm honest, so far it's all been about me - my disappointment, my failure, my hurt. And he has to console me month after month, do his best to pick me up and put me back together again, and just wait patiently until I return to something resembling normal again.

But I'm starting to feel a huge sense of guilt about this. Guilt about not getting pregnant, not giving Tom the son or daughter that I strongly believe will be the making of him, but also guilt about being such a drain on his emotions. Especially during the first year of marriage, technically still our honeymoon period.

Spending a lot of my 20s and 30s nursing a broken heart and an immense longing to be with someone, I know how lucky I am to have met Tom and I never want to take him or our marriage for granted. He is absolutely everything to me - he makes me laugh, listens to my drivel, talks endless rubbish with me and teaches me so much about so many things.

I don't want to do anything to jeopardise that, but I'm 38 and we don't have the luxury of time.

Oh well, at least we're having lots of sex.

Until next time.

Juno ☺