Round 2 - here we go again

It's been a long while since I blogged, and a lot has happened since. For a start, I have a 14 month old son called Samuel. He is just beautiful in every way and I feel like the luckiest person on earth.

There's obviously so much more to say and I'll try to gradually fill in the gaps over time but the reason I've come back to my blog now is because the possibility of another IVF cycle is looming. I guess I feel like I need an outlet and my blog helped me so much last time.

The thing is, we'd love a sibling for Samuel and because of my age (41, eek), we thought we'd better get cracking - so to speak. So when Samuel was only 7 months we started trying. I can't honestly say I was ready and it felt like a massive betrayal to Samuel (still does), but time is not our side.

And 8 cycles of trying down the line, with no luck once again, I thought it was time to think about next steps. I suppose first and foremost I want to check everything inside is still in working order and that childbirth and/or my age hasn't made my uterus shrivel up or my ovaries fall off.

So yesterday I went to see our IVF consultant. I basically love him because he helped us to get Samuel. I also love him because he's charming and bordering on handsome (although just on the wrong side of the border), and because he has dancing eyebrows. They dance independently of each other but at the same time. It's fascinating.

Sadly but predictably the consultant agreed that time isn't on my side and that I should get the inside of my uterus and my ovarian reserve checked. Plus The Husband needs to get his little guys tested. He said if we're thinking of going through IVF again we should wait until nearer the time so the results are as up to date as possible just before we go through a cycle.

So now we need to think about timing. It's weird thinking about going through an IVF cycle again. We're in such a different situation now we have Samuel. The intense longing and desperation aren't there although the feelings of inadequacy that my body can't seem to do what it's supposed to do are creeping back in.

Still, I'm reassured by the fact that it's worked once before (albeit our second cycle) so I could and would deal with it again. Now we just need to decide when...

(I don't know if anyone will read this, especially anyone I used to 'know' in cyberspace but if you are and I do, hello :) )

Tears of joy and sadness

I haven't been on Twitter much lately, nothing is normal in my life right now and I'm finding it hard to communicate in general. I hope this entry goes some way to explaining why.

On Friday, at 8 weeks and 4 days, we saw our little jelly baby for the second time. The first time was at 6 weeks 2 days. Despite getting daily positives for the two weeks from the first pregnancy test to the scan, the relief of knowing there was actually something growing inside me was immense. Especially as it took the sonographer a good minute or so to find the little tinker in the gestation sac.

That was the longest minute of my life, I don't think I actually breathed. But finally she located it and we saw the little flicker of the heartbeat on the screen. This was what I had waited two years to see. When she turned up the volume and we heard the heartbeat, I thought I would burst.

Later, outside the clinic, The Husband held me as I cried two years' worth of tears, big heaving sobs. People passing us on the street must have wondered what terrible thing had happened and between sobs I urged The Husband to tell everyone they were happy tears.

The emotions I felt on the day of that first scan were indescribable. The emotions I felt on Friday at the second scan, seeing the miracle of this tiny and brand new life in front of our eyes - the head, the body, the spine, the little leg and arm buds - and hearing that strong heartbeat again, were a step beyond that.

I cannot imagine feeling any more for this tiny 2cm being, our creation, our child, than I do now, but I know I will. I am still scared of what could happen but I also have this feeling that everything will be ok. The Husband believes babies choose their parents and I'm also convinced this little fighter chose us, knowing the time was right to come into our lives. So I'm going to trust it to do what it needs to do, to grow and get stronger each day, and each day I know I will love it a little more.

I wish I could leave this entry here, with a happy ending. But I can't, because this isn't the only thing going in our lives.

On Saturday we went to tell my brother and sister-in-law our news. I had been so anxious about this moment, not because I thought they wouldn't be happy for us, but because I knew the immense emotions it would bring for them.

I will never forget how that conversation went, for now it keeps going through my head on a loop and I have cried a lot of tears over it, but I'm afraid I can't bring myself to describe it. All I will say is that, in their own ways, they handled it with as much dignity as they could muster.

My sister-in-law is wearing her emotions on her sleeve which makes it easier to understand and comfort her. My brother has shut down and no one can reach him. I cannot begin to imagine his pain but I see evidence of it reflected in his eyes and etched into his face. It is truly heartbreaking. I feel like I've not only lost a niece but also the brother I knew, and I miss him terribly.

The difference in our lives at this point couldn't be more apparent. It's like a Shakespearean tragedy - or maybe a Hollywood movie. The rest of my family - my parents and my sister - are now torn between immense joy and overwhelming sadness. As am I. It is an unreal situation, I just hope in time the joy will become more significant for all of us.

The two week wait - part two

For anyone who only reads my blog and doesn't follow me on Twitter, apologies for the delay in updating this, especially when I have good news to share.

Yes, ivf2 resulted in that magical, long-awaited BFP!

I was ridiculously nervous and had prepared myself for the worst so it was just amazing to see a strong line on the test - I held out until the official test date (OTD) as I wanted to be sure about the result, especially after the chemical pregnancy debacle of the first ivf (I could be, I'm probably not, I think I am, I might be, I'm probably not, oh, I'm definitely not).

I tested every day after the OTD and about 5 days in, feeling a bit more secure, we invited our parents over and told them the good news. There were A LOT of tears. I was worried about getting my parents excited too early but at the same time wanted to give them something positive to think about. I know it's not a cure for what happened with my niece and for the hell we're seeing my brother and his family go through, but it's definitely helped.

Over the following few days, I also told my sister and my best friend, who both knew about the ivf and had a good idea of timing. It was exciting to tell everyone and fantastic to see their reactions but I think once that excitement had calmed down, reality set in and I started to feel really scared about things not working out.

I'm sure it's completely natural when you've waited so long and been through so much to get to this point but I've been petrified of getting to the scan and once again being confronted with an empty uterus. There's further to fall at this point and other people's disappointment to take into account.

The signs so far have all been good but I'm afraid some of them are down to other things. I definitely haven't been constantly searching Google for early pregnancy symptoms (yeah right) but I thought I'd list mine in case it helps anyone else:

- sore boobs (could be down to the Crinone)

- no bleeding/spotting (could be down to the Crinone)

- bloated stomach (probably down to the bucketloads of ivf drugs)

- more tired (could be down to all the events of the last couple of months)

- feeling a bit 'off' or run down (could be coming down with something)

- more hungry (probably down to greed).

I've been trying to reassure myself that my daily home pregnancy tests have been positive and the lines have been strong. The Clear Blue tests moved from 2-3 weeks to 3+ a few days after I started testing and have stayed that way.

Plus The Husband has been very good at reassuring me (Me: the little embabies are still in there aren't they? Him: yes, of course they are. Repeat hourly until baby is born).

And speaking of Crinone - oh my, that stuff is bizarre. All can be quiet for a few days and then suddenly and without warning I'll have an avalanche of lumpy clumpy weird looking gunk falling out. Nice. Still, it's a miniscule price to pay...

So, the scan is tomorrow and I just hope and pray they find one or two little fighters in there.

To be continued...

Hopes & dreams

Last night, I woke up crying from a horrible dream. I can't remember the context but the end was so vivid and awful. I was told I had to lose my two embabies and was made to watch a scan-like image of my uterus as they disappeared.

It was one of those dreams it takes a while to wake up from but when I came to properly, I had tears streaming down my face and was calling out to The Husband that they'd gone. I haven't had one of those dreams in ages and it threw me right off this morning.

Sadly, this ivf has become something to get through. Since my niece died, my family has been going through all kinds of hell and I've felt I have to be strong for my brother and sister-in-law, and for my parents. I haven't had the head space or the energy to give the ivf the attention it needs, and I lost all perspective on why I've been doing it.

But this last week, since the egg collection, my focus has had to shift. I've had to be present physically and so I've naturally become more engaged with it. I've been nervous at every stage, before every call, wanting to know things are going well, that we're still in the game. Thoughts about how this is going to turn out have been creeping into my head. The outcome of this cycle seems to have such a huge significance.

If I could get pregnant and bring new life into the family, then maybe it would help take my sister-in-law's mind away, even for a short time, from the overwhelming pain and sadness she is suffering every single second of every single day. Maybe it would help my brother start to release his grief, get rid of some of the unbearable emotion building up inside him like a dead weight. Maybe it would bring a true smile to my parents' faces. Maybe we could all start to have some faith in the world around us again.

I know if we have a baby it wouldn't come close to being a replacement for my niece but it might be a distraction from the grief.

And for me and The Husband? It we would mean we could start to move on, to make plans and allow ourselves to be excited about the future again. We could talk with confidence about WHEN we have our baby, the kind of parents we'd be, the names we like, the way we'd decorate the nursery, how much is too much to spend on a pram.

And I have to believe all this could happen. I just can't bear to think about the other outcome.

So the dream threw me because it brought my deepest, darkest fears up from my sub-conscious, right there where I could see them, smell them, feel them. And at the cruellest time, right after transfer, right at the start of the two-week wait.

Of course I'm scared, I wouldn't be human if I wasn't.

But I definitely haven't give up hope.

I know I haven't given a proper update here on what's happened in the latest stages of the cycle, I promise to do that next time!

IVF2, the baby dream and the tears

Lately I’ve been feeling much stronger, the tangled mess in my head seems to have been unravelling and I’ve been able to look forward again.

Yesterday, we went to see our consultant about starting the next cycle of ivf around the end of the month. I came out feeling positive, hopeful and even a bit excited.

Last night I had a baby dream. I was playing with a gorgeous little baby, making it smile and giggle. I felt so happy but I just had this feeling it wasn’t really my baby. It turned out to be my sister-in-law’s.

This morning we found out friends who'd got married exactly a year after us had just given birth to their first son.

Today I hurt so much – an intense physical aching in my heart that I haven't felt since the chemical pregnancy. I got into bed earlier, started crying and couldn’t stop. The tears seemed to come from somewhere so deep inside me.

My husband came upstairs and found me like this. He comforted me and told me it was ok to be sad. I said that everyone around us seemed to be having babies but I could only dream about them.

He told me we weren’t like everyone else, that we’re special and that we’ll have our baby, at some point, somehow.

I listened to his words, dried my tears and carried on with the day.

Moving in the right direction

I realised recently that at times it's taken me a bit longer to get to where I’m supposed to be in life, compared to the average person. So I suppose it didn’t surprise me when I didn’t get pregnant straight away.

I put it down to the fact that The Husband and I needed more time on our own together as we didn’t meet until we were in our mid-30s. Plus, we wanted to move out of our small, cold, noisy, rented flat and buy our first home.

I thought maybe that was meant to come first so we were settled for when I got pregnant. But a bunch of things have worked against us - the recession, a crap housing market, a tight budget, the house we were about to buy falling through at the last minute...

And while we’ve tried to be philosophical about things and leave it up to fate, it’s starting to really get us down now. We’re both feeling tired, in every way.

I’m not sure what happened to getting married, buying a home, having kids and living happily ever after but I feel naive for ever thinking that’s how it would be. We just want to move on with our lives now and if we’re going move on, it looks like we have to take control and make things happen.

This week’s appointment with the fertility specialist really helped us to see this and has put us on the road to making some big decisions.

First up, as far as fertility – or the apparent lack of it – is concerned, it’s between IUI or IVF. As I’m ovulating naturally, the doc didn’t think Clomid would have any significant impact on our chances and would just waste valuable time.

I have another choice, which is to carry on trying naturally but as the specialist put it, “If you were ten or even five years younger, I’d tell you to go away and try naturally for another year. But at 38 and having tried to get pregnant for over a year, I’d recommend doing something now.”

Well, it was blunt but I appreciated the fact he was honest with me. And I think I needed to hear it.

It’s a bit upsetting - to think age is against us, to think that if we did have the luxury of time we may just get pregnant naturally, to know what I’m about to put my body through. But the bottom line is it takes us one step closer to having our baby. And that’s what this is all about.

So we’re going to look into it, find out as much as we can and work out what’s best for us. And I'm so grateful we're doing it together. I know not everyone has someone to go through this kind of stuff with.

And as for where we live – all the signs have pointed to the fact that it’s not the right time for us to buy a house. But neither of us believes we’re supposed to stay where we are. So we’re going to meet the universe halfway and rent a house for a while. It will hopefully make the process a lot simpler and quicker and take a huge amount of pressure off us.

So that’s where we are.

Apprehensive but hopefully moving in the right direction.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

Hey Jude, don’t make me sad...

“Errum, I’d say everything looks as it, errum, should. No major cause for, errum, concern at this stage. So fingers crossed for, errum, a good outcome this cycle.”

Ah, thank you kindly funny speaking Scan Man.

In a nutshell the three scans I’ve had during this monitored cycle (CDs 7, 12 & 20) have all shown things in my lady bits are as they should be. Frustrating in an ‘unexplained fertility’ way but good news in an ‘I have to be grateful nothing major is wrong’ way.

So now, at 8 DPO , I just need to carry on waiting. Again. For the 14^th time.

I’m doing ok to be honest, I’ve really tried to stick to thinking positively over the last few days. Actually it’s probably more accurate to say I’ve been trying not to think at all. Well, not about getting pregnant anyway.

The only blip I had was two nights ago. I’d spoken to my sister in the morning and she told me she’d gone to visit an old friend of hers who got married a week after I did, 14 months ago. We spoke about her for a bit and then I asked: “Is she thinking of trying for a baby?” There was a brief pause and my sister replied: “She had a baby three months ago.”

I gave a nervous sort of laugh and asked what she had (a boy) and what they’d called him (Jude - I love that name), and then she changed the subject and we moved on to other things.

But I had an uncomfortable feeling. It wasn’t jealousy or bitterness. I know a few people far closer to me who’ve had babies within a year of getting married recently and I’ve been able to accept it and be happy for them. I can’t even explain it, I think I just felt a bit stupid for asking the question like that, when I could have asked ‘Is she pregnant yet?’ or ‘Has she had a baby yet?’ Or maybe it was just the stark reality of it, the fact that the answer felt a bit like a slap in the face, I don’t know.

Anyway, after I put the phone down, I put the conversation to the back of my mind and I carried on with my day.

But for some reason, when I went to bed that night, I started to think about this conversation again and I just felt sad. Probably sad for the three-month old I could have had by now. Sad for feeling stupid for asking that question. Sad for this whole crappy situation. I shed a few tears, letting the sadness trickle down my cheeks for a while. Then I wiped the tears away, took a few deep breaths and went back to not thinking.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

The pond, the tortoise and the invaluable lesson

I‘ve said this before about my reflexologist (who I'll call Mrs R) but she’s a complete hoot and I thoroughly enjoy the hour I spend in her company each month.

She often says the most randomly eccentric things with a straight face, making me giggle to distract me during the painful bits. For instance, this week she told me she’d asked her husband to get her a pond for their 22^nd wedding anniversary – but then she changed her mind when she realised her tortoise might drown in it.

But she also inadvertently comes out with really valuable nuggets of wisdom. I was talking to her this week about our struggle to find a house and how it’s-really-getting-us-down-because-where-we-live-at-the-moment-was-only-meant-to-be-temporary-but-it’s-been-two-years-now-and-it’s-small-and-cramped-and-drafty-and-we-have-noisy-neighbours-and-a-second-bedroom-full-of-boxes-and-even-if-I-did-get-pregnant-how-would-we-fit-in-a-baby-and... At that point Mrs R stopped me with a loud ‘Hold on a second missy!’ which was probably just as well as I’d forgotten to breathe for a while.

She then sternly told me that I must NEVER have anything in my head that could possibly be a reason for not getting pregnant. Instead, she told me to mentally remove those boxes from the second bedroom, give it a jolly good theoretical clean-out, and then start visualising how I’d decorate it as a nursery for my baby.

I know about visualising and thinking positively and I do try to do both but I have to admit, when it’s about me, I don’t find it particularly easy. I don’t have a huge amount of confidence in myself at the best of times, let alone when my body isn’t even able to do what should come most naturally.

But, somehow, what Mrs R said about the second bedroom really hit a nerve. There’s definitely a part of me that thinks that while we’re in this flat, we can’t possibly be ready to have a baby - that we’re still playing at being married and that until we move to our three-bed semi in suburbia with a through lounge and an apple tree in the garden, we’re not truly grown up enough to have a baby.

I thought about this a lot after the reflexology session and something dawned on me – home is where me and The Husband are. And if I’m lucky enough to get pregnant in the near future and we haven’t found our dream home, then clear out those boxes is what we’ll do. And we’ll make a bloody gorgeous nursery in that second bedroom and it will be home for our baby and we’ll be a grown-up family in a small, drafty, noisy two-bed flat - and we’ll be happy.

So now, every night before I go to sleep, I visualise transforming that second bedroom into the perfect nursery for our baby – it’s got a thick, warm carpet , a cosy little crib, shelves filled with Beatrix Potter books and teddy bears, and a comfy rocking chair where I’d cuddle my baby all day if I could.

And I now know that it’s all I’d need.

So thank you, Mrs R, for making me realise this – it was an unintentional but very valuable lesson.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

I want my money back

I don’t get it.

The instruction manual said when you get the smiley face, it means your egg will pop out soon so the man has to quickly stick his thing in your thing until the sperm shoot out.

And while you’re going about your business, the sperm will be happily swimming around in your lady bits until one of them remembers it has a job to do, at which point it races off to find the egg.

Meanwhile, the egg has been lazily swimming down the tube, when she is suddenly accosted by the frantic sperm. After a bit of a scuffle, they agree to join together and then they both go swimming until they come across the lovely velvety cushioned lining.

After all that swimming, they need a bit of a rest and that lining really does look inviting so they squeeze themselves in there and don’t move for a good long while until it’s safe to come out. At which point they’ve become one tiny little foetus that grows and grows and grows until nine months later, it’s an actual fully-formed, healthy baby and it slides smoothly (and painlessly) out the lady bits and then the man and the woman love it forever (even though it can be a real pain in the arse sometimes).

The end.

It was definitely something along those lines. And it seems quite straightforward - other people do it easily enough.

But I’ve tried it 13 times now and it hasn’t worked.

And it makes me sad.

And scared.

I want my money back.

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 ☺

Where’s my smiley face?

Eleven months ago, I embarked on that weird and wonderful (or perhaps just weird) journey to becoming pregnant. Initially optimistic and naively confident, I am now wondering where this long and winding fertility road will lead me, whether I will reach the sleepless nights and dirty nappies I absurdly crave.

So I thought I’d write this blog to help me chart my journey and seek out fellow travellers. I’d be incredibly grateful if you could let me know if you’ve come along for the ride. Just so I know for sure I’m not on my own. Here we go…

I have never spent more time inspecting the inside of my knickers. Possibly not the most gracious start to a blog – my first ever in fact - but it’s true. Eleven months in and I am none the wiser. This month, the time when I was supposed to be ovulating was tainted, quite literally, with something the colour of old ketchup. That was a new one. Any ideas?

Obviously I’ve researched it on the internet on at least 16 separate occasions over the last three days and have decided, depending on my mood, that I have anything from a very early, very unwelcome period to early onset menopause (I’m 38).

All rational thinking has blatantly gone out the window.

Whatever it is though, I’m not particularly happy about it, as this was my last attempt before a number of significant upcoming events:

• My first-year wedding anniversary – I had hoped to be celebrating this with the knowledge of becoming a parent in the not-too-distant future. It will still be a big celebration (I was single until I was 35, plus I’m Jewish - you do the math) and I am still massively happy and grateful to be married to my amazing husband. But, you know, it would have been nice.

• An impending hysteroscopy (where they knock you out and stick a camera on the end of a scrapey thing into your womb and remove any offending articles). A scan a few months ago showed ‘an irregularity’ which they think they should check out. Was hoping not to have to go through this again – I had one two years ago to remove a polyp, now it’s just becoming habit.

• My friend’s wedding – although of course a very happy occasion which I will no doubt enjoy, I will be sitting alongside the Smug Pregnants / New Parents, feeling just a little bit inadequate.

But I remain hopeful that tomorrow will be the day I’ll get that smiley face on the digital wee stick (day 18 - is that even possible?). In the meantime, for anyone else desperately hoping to see a smiley face too, I'll leave you with one below.

Until next time.

Juno ☺