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.

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!

The pain, the support and the shitload of hormones

First of all I wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who's supported me lately through my blog or on Twitter. It really means so much, I'm just sorry I haven't been around much to support all of you.

It's been harder than ever for me to update this blog because everything at the moment is so unreal, so big, so awful.

I can't write about the pain my family is going through because there are no words for that. And I still have no idea how I feel about the ivf so I don't know how to write about that either.

On the whole, I feel like I'm hovering around most areas of my life but not really properly taking part in any of them. I want to be there more for my brother, sister-in-law, nephew and my parents but don't always know how to. I've taken compassionate leave from work for a few days this week because I wasn't able to concentrate on anything while I was there, and I've not really been around much to speak to or see my friends.

And of course the ivf. I'm going through the motions of this cycle but I'm not really engaged with it. I'm scared about either outcome this time to be honest, but mostly I don't want to be responsible for causing more pain and grief for my family if it doesn't work out.

I expect everything is compounded by the shitload of hormones in my system now. I extended my down reg injections by a week so I could have a bit more time to get my head round things. So that meant three and a half weeks of Buserilin before I started the Gonal on Monday this week (which they upped to 300 from 225 in ivf1).

My day 5 blood test is tomorrow and day 9 scan next Tuesday so I'll soon know how my follies are progressing. Maybe then things will start to hit home and feel a bit more real. I hope so.

Before I go I wanted to mention The Husband and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary this week. We went out for a lovely meal, exchanged gifts and had a relaxing, fun evening. He lifts my spirits and keeps me going, and he's been such an amazing support to my family these last few weeks. To me, that's invaluable.

In the midst of all the crap, I haven't forgotten for a second how lucky I am to have him by my side.

Devastation

On Monday last week, my beautiful, intelligent, talented, funny, popular, loved and loving 14 year old niece died very suddenly and unexpectedly.

I do not have the words to describe the horror of this past week and a half. The pain my brother, sister in law and nephew are going through is unimaginable. In time, the rest of us will get on with our lives but for them, this is just the start.

To me, this is pure devastation - nothing will ever be the same again.

In the meantime, I continue injecting myself with ivf drugs but to be honest, it has lost all meaning to me now.

The world no longer makes sense.