Dear embabies

I know you’re just a bunch of cells at the moment but I wanted to let you know a few things.

When we started this journey of trying to get pregnant, I thought it may not happen instantly, mainly because of my age and because sometimes it takes me a bit longer to get to where I want to be. But I knew from the start I’d keep going until I got there because there is no other option for me than having children.

And so we tried and tried and tried some more. We kept going for 18 cycles. And each unsuccessful try tore into my heart a little more.

I started to worry about time running out on my fertility and so we got help from medical science. At that point I left my dignity at the door. I’ve jabbed needles loaded with hormones into my body every day for nearly six weeks. I’ve let endless numbers of medics poke me, prod me, shove things up me, take things out of me and turn me inside out with their forms and their questions until there was nothing left of me to hide.

And it has all left me bruised - physically, emotionally and mentally.

But out of it has come a great thing. Two embabies to call our own.

And so I sit here typing this with you both inside of me, and I want more than anything to look after you, to protect you, to get to know you, to be proud of you, to love you - for as long as I’m here.

Please please please stick around. It will break my heart if you leave.

Your almost mummy

xxxxxx

A step nearer

Yesterday’s IVF appointment with the fertility doctor went well. It was my second appointment with him and by the end of this session I have to confess I’d fallen in love with him a little bit. He’s charming and lovely and patient and knows stuff.

The trouble is I have form – I also fell in love with the guy who did my hysteroscopy a few months ago. I might consider it a problem but my husband confessed to having a slight man crush on Hysteroscopy Doc at the time and I feel pretty sure he’ll develop one for IVF Doc too so I think I’ll just go with it.

More importantly perhaps, IVF Doc answered all my questions and gave me more of an idea of the protocol. I was hoping I’d come out of there knowing when we’d start the process and exactly what it would involve for me but he needs The Husband and I to do a few more tests to give him all the facts (bloods, sperm, scan etc). Once he has the results, we’ll go in for a final consult and he’ll go through each stage of the process in detail, how long it will take and the level of drugs I’ll need. And we’ll decide when to start.

I’m still in the ‘this feels so surreal stage’. I’m actually finding it hard to write at the moment because I don’t really know how I feel.

I think there’s part of me that’s filled with horror at voluntarily and in fact personally pumping my body full of drugs, another part that’s apprehensive about the process as a whole, another part that’s excited at the prospect of a happy ending and another part that’s scared shitless it’s going to fail. That I’m going to fail.

I’m trying desperately to keep all these feelings in check and have decided to go all out and book appointments with as many different types of therapists as I can lay my hands on over the next couple of months (complementary and otherwise). I’ll worry about the money later...

I suppose the bottom line is, I feel like I’m a step nearer to having my baby. I hope that’s true.

Until next time.

Juno ☺

Big fat f*cking waste of time

It’s been a frustrating week.

I was determined to be positive and constructive after I got my period last Friday. It was once again gutting but I spent the weekend focusing on making an appointment with the fertility doctor, so I could talk through my options and decide what to do next.

I would really love to get pregnant naturally (who wouldn’t?) but after a year of trying, I’ve finally arrived at the point where I’ve realised it’s more important to have a baby than to worry about how it got made. And I don’t want to waste any more time.

So on Monday I called Scan Man and told him I’d got my period. “Oh, errum, I am sorry. Well, you’d better make an, errum, appointment to come in and see me in the next couple of, errum, days. We’ll chat through your monitored cycle and go through all the, errum, facts. Then you can make an, errum, appointment with Mr Fertility Doctor and get things moving in the, errum, right direction.”

Ok, so far so good. So I made the, errum, appointment for the next day and psyched myself up in the meantime as I wanted to feel strong and level-headed when we talked through everything.

But as I walked into his office, before I’d even sat down, he started telling me he hadn’t expected to see me so soon and that the file with ALL my information was at his other clinic. What??! But you told me to come in and see you in the next couple of, errum, days! What was so unexpected??

He said he could remember all the relevant details but as the session progressed, it transpired he couldn’t and I had to keep reminding and correcting him. The only thing he could confirm was that I have low progesterone and a short luteal phase - something I’ve known all along.

Basically, it was a big, fat f*cking waste of time.

Plus, when I said I wanted to see Mr Fertility Doctor asap so I could do something with my next cycle, Scan Man said casually, “Oh, Mr FD is, errum, away this week, he’s not back until next week so you won’t be able to do anything with the, errum, next cycle.”

Great. Thanks for waiting until now to tell me. I’ve had issues with this clinic before (see earlier blogs) and this was the last straw. So after all the psyching up about making decisions and moving on, I felt like I was back to square one – confused, disappointed and not sure what to do next.

So I did the only thing I could think of. Called Gorgeous Handsome Dreamy Gynaecologist – the one who did my recent hysteroscopy – and asked him to recommend someone (my logic being that if he is gorgeous, handsome, dreamy, charming and lovely, anyone he recommends will be as well).

His secretary (let’s call her Lucky Bitch) told me he was in the office that day and she’d get back to me later with an answer. The day went on and I heard nothing. I called LB again the next morning and she said he’d had to rush off after I called and wasn’t back in the office until Monday (tomorrow). Aaarrggh!!

I think the most frustrating thing about all this is not feeling in control - of my own body and its ability to make a baby, and being so bloody reliant on other people to even have a chance of making that baby.

Anyway, I’ll chase LB again tomorrow and if I don’t get any joy, will check out another couple of recommendations I’ve had. But as time is ticking on I’ve had to accept I can’t do anything more with this cycle except try naturally again.

What I have done, though, is book my very first appointment with an acupuncturist/Chinese herbalist. He’s meant to have good results with hormone imbalance and infertility so I thought it was worth a shot while I’m figuring out what to do next.

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 ☺

I’d rather just have had the bracelet

Well, I wasn’t in the dark for too long...how nice to receive the gift of menstruation on the day of my first-year wedding anniversary. I also got a lovely Links bracelet from my husband.

We had a fab day at Wimbledon to celebrate (the anniversary, not the menstruation), taking advantage of my company’s corporate hospitality tent - and the food and alcohol within it. We also saw a bit of tennis, which was a nice bonus.

Talking of weddings, we went to my friend’s one on Sunday. Despite being slightly aggrieved we had to miss the England vs. Germany World Cup match (just as well, as it turns out) and put on our best suit / dress on the hottest day of the year so far, we ended up having a fun time.

My concerns about feeling inadequate were unfounded. It was great to spend time with friends we hadn’t seen in a while and I managed to just relax and enjoy being there (admittedly helped along by a couple of glasses of champagne).

There was perhaps the odd glance at my general stomach area to check for any tell-tale signs of bulging, and definitely a couple of the girls clocking the amount of alcohol I was taking in but I didn't let that affect me too much.

So now, with my feeble excuse for a period done and dusted, and my hysteroscopy booked for the last week of July, all I can do is try to remain positive about what these next few weeks might bring.

Until next time.
Juno ☺

Perhaps I should have taken a horse tranquilizer

I’m afraid to say Day 18 came and went with just an empty circle showing on the digital wee stick. There’s something very sad about that empty circle. It’s like those pregnancy tests that tell you quite unashamedly you’re ‘NOT PREGNANT’. Yes, thank you very much for pointing that out to me so clearly. Most kind.

So I’m feeling a bit glum about the lack of smiley face - ergo lack of hope. The only other time since we've been trying I didn’t get a smiley face was Month 7. (I can’t remember my name half the time but somehow I can remember which day I ovulated in which month - or not.)

That was the month of the hysterosalpingogram. Catchy title. That’s where they run a test to check your fallopian tubes are open by injecting some dye through your cervix. They tell you you might just get ‘mild cramping’ so you should take a Nurofen an hour before the test. What they mean by mild cramping is that it will feel as though someone is tightly squeezing all your lady organs while stabbing them with razor blades. And what they should tell you to take is not a Nurofen but a horse tranquilizer.

Picture the scene: the swearing, hissing and kicking (not me, the consultant - only kidding) has just about calmed down. I’m lying there naked from the waist down, my legs are up in stirrups and two grown men are mopping up around me pretending they haven't just been staring at my lady bits for the last half an hour or so. My dignity is nowhere to be seen and I'm doing all I can to regain some composure and not blub like a baby.

Just as I'm starting to breath normally again, one of the grown men (or Consultant Gynaecologists, if you like) uncomfortably tells me they’ve spotted ‘a small irregularity’ on my uterus wall but they have no idea what it is or why it’s there or whether it will affect my fertility or in fact anything that might remotely reassure me.

Great.

So I’ve spent the last four months trying to ignore what they said - or didn’t say - and soldiered on with the baby making efforts regardless. To no avail of course but I figured it must be worth a try.

So here we are, Month 11, Day 19, no idea what my body’s doing.

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 ☺