Hindsight

Reading another blog has spun me into a spiral of restrospection and hindsight about the emotional journey I/we have been through over the past couple of years - in particular since diagnosis a year and a bit ago.
Like the blogger, it has been one of the toughest periods of my life. I never knew I could cry so much or be that fragile. I find it hard to explain to people why the devastation has been so utterly overwhelming. Something to do with the 5 years of monthly disappointments and fooling myself that nothing was wrong. Something to do with being a lonely, only child of a single parent family longing for a family of my own for a long, long time.
But now, like the blogger, I wouldn't change anything - I wouldn't want the past year or so to be any other way.
I recently had a conversation with a friend who sadly seems to be at the beginning of the very hardest bit of the infertility journey - when all you do is cry and be totally overwhelmed by feelings you don't understand. I realised talking to her that I wasn't quite in that place anymore. While I am not that much further on medically - or at least it doesn't feel like it - I have come a long way emotionally and wouldn't have if I hadn't let myself give in to those tears and hide myself away in the devastation. It had to be done and I am better off for it. I truely believe times like these make you a stronger and wiser person and makes you and your partner closer if you let it.
Obviously my yearning for a baby is still so overwhelmingly strong. I constantly find myself in moments, like at the carol concert last week when all the little ones came out to sing their song, when I am overcome with tears of longing and grief. But I now just let myself feel those moments and I can cope with them. It does not stop me wanting to spend time around children anymore.
And I do not believe this longing for a child necessarily means I would change the struggle I have had/am having to get one. It may take some of us a bit longer to get to the top of the mountain. But just because our path is longer it does not mean we have wasted time, just that we have seen other things along the way which could turn out to be invaluable.

Miracle Cures

Am feeling guilty today because I snapped at my mum. We went to see her for an early Christmas weekend as we are going to H's family in Australia. Really wanted to make it special for her as she was very generous encouraging us to go and I have a feeling she's going to have a miserable time with this older lady friend of hers who is very ill and quite possibly on her last Christmas. She does have more cheerful friends she could be with, but she is thinking of this older lady.
Anyhow, everything was going good. H even came to her school carol concert in the cathedral which would normally be his idea of torture and she was very happy about this. We pulled crackers, played card tricks and told jokes. Then she started going on about this homeopathic medecine she wants me to take for the IVF and I couldn't bear it. I snapped several times that I did not want to talk about it and then just kept on snapping 'I will bear it in my mind' in a very unconvincing way.
It wasn't just a case of taking this stuff to keep her happy. I would have to get a hair anaylsed and go for a special appointment and get stuff imported from Spain. I don't want all of that - I spent too much time last time worrying about what I was eating, drinking, doing etc and no longer think it makes much difference. I really want to keep it simple this time. Obviously eat healthily and not drink, but other than that just try to stay happy. Maybe do acupuncture - but even that I am not sure.
I am so sick of suggestions of 'miracle cures' and stories about people who have taken such 'miracle cures' and had success. Or the other favourite of my mum's, people who have struggled for years and then 'just relaxed' and a miracle baby just popped along. Not only does this not take into account how often this DOESN'T happen, but it makes you feel that if it doesn't work it is your fault for not 'relaxing enough' or not taking that '1 miracle cure' which might save you.
Trying all these random things just increases the anxiety and stress of the situation and makes me feel more frantic and to blame. This time around, I have to not do this.
But this is very hard for my mum to get. She doesn't believe in medical doctors anyhow - for her its all about hippy dippy things and chakras. It is not that I completely dismiss all alternative medecine - but it is just not what I need right now. But there's almost no point trying to explain. She 'means well' and I have to find a way to deal with her way without hurting her feelings and making me feel guilty in response. If only I could go back and just not tell her about it all!!

Robert Winston

Have finally got down to reading Robert Winston's 'A Child Against All Odds' and despite - or perhaps because of - its scientific nature am finding it strangely comforting. It is obviously good to know some facts for starters. But it is not that just that. It is very medical and technical in its description of IVF and its history, and almost mathematical in its analysis of the resulting attitudes from society, but there is a real compassion which shines through all the brighter for the factual stance. Almost as though it is not just emotionally understandable to feel the things we infertiles feel but scientifically so. It is how my dad can make me feel.
Here is a bit I particularly like:

"It is argued with so many babies born pre-term, valuable neonatal facilities are being swallowed up by increasing numbers of people who have sought this treatment for a condition that is not life-threatening and does not cause them physical pain.
"The last arguement, I have to say, tends to be advanced only by people who have either never had children, or never experienced any difficulties having children or met anyone else who has.
No physician who has witnessed the anguish of infertile couples can doubt that the condition causes extreme suffering - even if the suffering is not conveniently located in the pancreas or the foot! If you would like a short introduction, I suggest you visit some of the popular websites for people with infertility problems. Most of these are completely devoid of baby photographs... This is for the simple reason that infertile people can go through mental agony when surrounded by reminders of other people successfully getting pregnant and having babies.
"To argue that any mental pain is necessarily of a lesser oorder than physical painis an obvious fallacy, since we have long recognized depression as an illness.. We also recognise that mental stress is a relevant factor in a range of physical conditions, from psoriasis to heart attacks and our immune response to infections. Medecine clearly accepts that 'mental pain is real and that it should be treated."

Moonlight

I love the well-meaning 'tips' people give you. My mum came up with a cracker this weekend.
Apparently moonlight has a direct affect on your cycles and womanly workings - just like it does the tides.
So from now on we have to keep our curtains open so the moonlight seeps into me as we sleep and 'does its bit'! Never mind that you can't actually see the moon from our window and might possibly get a cold that way also!
Bless her, she means very well and is nice that she is looking out for me. But you could go crazy with all these theories if they didn't make you laugh!
Consultation with the doctor didn't clear too much up except that I don't need to take DHEA anymore. She thinks it is still worth giving it another go with IVF but if the DHEA hasn't made a difference by now she says it never will.
I obviously still want to do it but feel a little nervous about the fact we were originally told not too bother. Maybe I just feel more cynical about it working but can't quite resist trying anyway.

Long Wait of Wondering

Yes, we had to get another consultation to talk about the test results with the doctor and she can't do it until Thursday. So it is another Long Wait of Wondering when I have to try not to let the 'what if' s go round and round in circles in my head.
Thought I was handling it ok but H came back on Friday and we talked about it all and he said: "Is this why you've been a bit off-colour?". Oops.
Managed to get distracted with a good weekend though. Went to Bristol to catch up with friends and since a few of us went so it was a good group outing like in the old days.
Forgot all the fertility stuff and just drank away too. Since I don't even know if we are going to go through with another cycle now, and even if we are it won't be for ages, it seemed silly to deny myself.
There was a bit of a moment with 2 of the girls at the start. They are a bit younger and one has just got married and started complaining because people were assuming she was about to get pregnant. They then both started getting annoyed at people's presumptions about this sort of thing and laugh about all the people they knew who had got pregnant to schedule a day or minute after they got married.
I don't know why it made my spirits plunge and got me so angry to hear them. Part of me really felt, so what? Why are these such terrible things for people to think/say/do? Another part thought how can you complain about something like this in front of me when you know what I have been through this year? And another thought - it is because they are both trying for babies and are preoccupied with the scenario and don't want people to nosy into their lives.
What they were saying was just all so very very far from my experience that I all of a sudden felt very isolated and lonely and distant from them and all the 'normal' fertiles out there who can pick and choose when and how to get pregnant.
I suppose because of the Long Wait of Wondering I also didn't want to think about anything to do with babies at all - let alone be reminded about the profound difference between me and 'normal' people.
I don't want people to feel as if they have to walk on eggshells around me so have learnt to just shut up, not make a big deal and maybe walk into another room when this sort of thing happens. It is what I did on this occasion. But it does amaze me constantly that intelligent, thoughtful friends who know what I have been going through don't seem to realise having these sort of conversations in front of me is hurtful.

Denial

Still no reply from the doctor to my questions. Realistically she will probably say we need a consultation which will cost another £200 and possibly a trip to London.
Am wondering if I am fooling myself as don't seem to be full of doom and gloom about this being the end of the road or anything. I think there is an element of denial going on, or not wanting to face up to things until I hear back from the doc. Forwarded H on the email yesterday but didn't mention it to him last night. And of course he wouldn't. Plus he was mega grumpy and tired. Had moments of affection but on the whole in very low spirits.
If anything this slight doubt about whether I can go on with the next lap of IVF has made me realise quite how much I was looking forward to doing the treatments again. Am I mad?
I have heard IVF can be addictive. I think it is a mixture of the sense of purpose and possibility, and the nurturing support you get from the nurses. Part of me would give anything to be d0ing it right now - going in for those scans, injecting myself with needles every night, feeling like a pumped up baloon of hormones. I remember that part of the process as being full of hope and excitment. An extended version of when your period is a bit late and you haven't yet got to the toilet to see the red spots.

Results

My up-and-down mood since the clinic on Monday makes more sense to me now as I have had my AMH results back. As with all the other tests, the news is not good. I must have known subconsciously. When has it been any different?
My AMH is 0.7 which is as low as it ever was. The DHEA has made no difference at all.
I am not sure what this means yet, the doctor wrote and told me this and has not replied to my questions yet.
But she used the word 'sadly'. That word jumped out like the haunting, pitying eyes of the first doctor when she first told me about AMH.

Alcohol-gate

The bleak mood has past and I feel bouncy again, but am still a little shocked it reared its ugly mug again in the first place. And afraid.
It was scarey - not like last year but I couldn't help but be reminded of then. When the discussion of which takeaway to order could result in me running out of the house in tears and H exploding with fury.
Things ARE so much better now. Everyone says we seem better. Especially since I gave up the job and stopped working those extreme hours which meant we never saw each other.
But the lack of a clear future and purpose makes me very jittery at times.
I thought I was comfortable with the 'modified plan', vague and full of delays though it was. And mostly, I am. But then, sometimes I am not.
After IVF failed in July it took a month to stop crying. Then we decided to take the doctor's advice and try taking the DHEA tablets for 3 months before trying again - perhaps at a different clinic.
Then H wanted to go back to Australia, where he is from, for Christmas. He pointed out he had only been back for Christmas once in 10 years. So we agreed to put off the treatment until after we came back.
Then there was alcohol-gate. Doctor said no, or very little, booze for either of us and to eat lots of broccoli. H said nothing but started drinking more than normal and stopped eating broccoli, which he loves.
When I confronted him, there was pure rant. 'I refuse. The 1 % difference not drinking would make is not worth the misery being in this state of 'not living' would cause. And I can't go through Christmas and New Year being frowned at by you every time I have a drink.'
Considering I had had a complete freak out about something else the week before I just let him rant. It was obviously an issue of pressure.
But a week or so later and I was still upset. The press had chosen that week to go mad with reports that an IVF couple drinking as little as 1 bottle of wine between them per week could reduce their chances by around 38%. Plus you have to be living healthily for at least 3 months before treatment. It was everywhere I looked.
I couldn't stop thinking about whether there was any point going through treatment if H refused to cut down on booze and eat healthily? Was there any point in me watching everything I did if he didn't? Was there any point in our relationship if he couldn't compromise over something so important? And if we couldn't have children - what was the point in anything?
Then we did manage to have a calm conversation - about the booze and lack of sex in our lives. A compromise was reached that we would go to Oz and drink and make merry but then delay the treatment and spend 3 months being healthy when we came back.
Most of the time this is fine. It is so nice having loving H back and so nice not getting back from work at 2am that I am just living for the present.
But then panics come in waves. Did he really mean that about no booze in January? What does he mean by no booze? None or just less? Will he change his mind?
And I feel terrified about the short and finite amount of time my fertile window allows me, and how I might be watching the little chance/time I have fly away from me. And I feel horribly alone.

AMH Test

Went up to the Lister Clinic yesterday to get a blood test. Apparently it will measure my AMH levels and so tell me if these tablets I have been taking for the past three months have made any difference at all. I suppose that is pretty significant.
She hasn't actually said we shouldn't do IVF again if there is no change, but I am wondering if we should. The doctor at the first clinic we went to was originally very clear that we should only go through the process once as success with my very low ovarian reserve was so slim and we would just be chucking money away. The only reason she said it was worth giving another go was because of these tablets and what they might do.
I know we are now seeing another doctor who didn't exactly say that but it still seems suddenly very crucial and I have this sense of dread again.
Added to which I feel very distant from H again. My fault. Was away all weekend with my friends then yesterday at the theatre with my mum. Plus he has been poorly and man-flu-y since a week ago and is working late tonight.
Maybe I just need to curl up and indulge myself tonight - completely give in. Have been feeling so much better recently I had almost forgotten what it was like to feel this low.

Discipline

Had lovely weekend with three of my oldest bestest school friends. The nearest, I suppose, to sisters that I have. Inevitably brought up lots of children stuff as two of them are mothers - but not in a horrible way. Felt couched in security so none of it hurt too much.
Tales from one friend about her cutest of cute little bubba did make me long again for my own though, of course. He is so cute and wonderful. And as she talked about the ups and downs of dealing with early parenthood and how her and her boyfriend reacted to things like discipline I couldn't help myself but be full of curiosity about how me and H would react to the same issues. Tried to stem the tide in my head of thinking about it but was too impossible. I simply couldn't stop the "I think he would leave the bad cop role to me". "I would want to make sure they weren't spoilt and would have to be firm but fair". "But how would we cope if he/she was crying really hard and we had to just let him/her cry."
We would just be such good parents, I know we would. H would thrive on it, perhaps be too indulgent, but be such a fun, caring, all-consuming dad. The bubba would be the centre of his world. And me. I really do think I would be good.
But coming home and I can't even encourage him into sex - so there is just no no no chance at all.

Touch

Overwhelmed with tiredness tonight so went to bed leaving H watching Lethal Weapon. Woke several hours later alone and knew he had fallen asleep on the sofa. Found him laughing in his dreams. 'Toot Toot' he said like a steam engine. But my prescence nudged him awake and he stumbled after me and it was so soothing to feel his gentle leg wrapped around mine.
I realise when this sort of thing happens how much I rely on our cuddles. Even the gentle entanglement of our limbs seems to soothe me like a magic comfort blanket into calmness. I think during all the horror of the past couple of years, when there have been times of great distance between us and violent, impossible, unbearable rages from both of us, it was cuddles that saved us. Even when sex became pressure, somehow we still had that other form of touch.

Press Fury

Have been sorting through some of the IVF related press around at the moment, trying to work out what sort of freelance article I want to write myself.
But after reading a few headlines I began to wonder if it was such a good idea after all. I found myself growling and gesticulating furiously to the cat.
On the whole, tabloid journalism tends to make me laugh more than angry. I just don't take most of it seriously. But on this subject it takes very little to turn me into a ranting, humourless shrew foaming at the mouth at the injustice of it all.
'Mothers leaving it too late because they are too busy with careers and parties' was one article which got me going. 'All women should have a fertility MOT at 30' another.
There's so many reasons why a woman might be a bit older than others when trying for a baby - most of them to do with luck and chance rather than choice.
In my case I have always longed for children but did not find the man I wanted to have them with until I was 30. We started trying less than 2 years later but it took a long time to get through the NHS system to be diagnosed. Doctors along the way have been a bit at fault - but mostly it is just the way it is. It can take a long time to work out what is wrong, and even if there is something wrong. Plus tests are intrusive and complicated as well as resources tight and it is just completely impractical to give every woman an 'MOT' at 30.
The press, even the so-called intelligent press, often get it so wrong with fertility. Mainly because it is one of those areas people get wrong - completely misunderstand. I have even been shocked at how little the kindest and most empathetic of my friends understand, unless they have direct experience themselves.
I do just need to be patient with them all, help them understand and try to understand myself why they don't. But I am already trying to be so patient waiting to see what happens with us.
And there is only so much patience a naturally impatient person can take.

Proud Dads

Was browsing Facebook and noticed an old boyfriend has just had a baby. Clicked a friend request through to his old best mate - who was also a mate of mine years ago - and he has just had twins. Am happy for them both, obviously. They will be lovely dads and look very proud and doting. But it is always a sort of blow when you hear this sort of news in quick succession. I have not yet been able to put my finger on why it hurts so very much.
People, including H, seem to see it as petty jealousy. Petulance because someone has got something you have not. But it is nothing like that. Nothing like feeling covetous when someone has a flash car or house or even relationship when you have not.
One of the things I have found the hardest during this whole process is people's lack of understanding about why it can sometimes (although not always) hurt so much to see other people pregnant or with babies, or hear the news that yet another friend is pregnant. I have been made to feel like some sort of ogre on several occasions because of these feelings, which I cannot help and have not always been able to hide.
It is understandable I suppose. In fact, I think even I struggled to understand similar reactions from other people before I was in this position.
Even now, I struggle to explain what it is I feel let alone explain why I feel it. But I know it is not an unkind feeling and does not mean I am not happy for other people. And I know it is not just me who feels this. It seems pretty widespread and maybe just goes with the territory of dealing with the loss, the overwhelming grief of infertility.

Baboon Talk

I had one of those tossy-turny sleepless nights again last night but have realised they no longer panic me as much as they did. If I can't sleep I will just have to be tired the next day and the nice thing about temping is that it doesn't matter that much really. When angry thoughts come I just have to read or watch telly to push them away
And it is fab listening to H talking in his sleep while I am lying there. Last night he muttered: "Where's your baboon?" I said he was my baboon and gave him a cuddle. Then asked him where his baboon was. "In Space," he said. "Because he had hairy hands."
Maybe I don't really need a child, maybe he is it!

Strange Beginnings

I suppose this is a strange time to start blogging about our infertility. I always thought blogs should be the record of some sort of 'journey' which started with a beginning.
In our case we are now too far away from the beginning to go back and recreate it. Too much has already happened and we are both so worn out.
We just are not people at the beginning of something anymore. We just don't have that perspective or energy or sense of hope.
So I am going to launch right in at the middle or wherever it is we are.
It is at least five years since it all started. Or more, if you count dreams and plans and the romance of you falling for your man and see in him the best father you could imagine for your children.
But digression. It has been five years since contraception ended and the trips to doctors started to increase. More than a year since our first diagnosis, and four months since we tried IVF and it failed. We are now trying to work out what happens next.
I have left my job and am not sure whether to look for a new one, focus on further IVF or move to the other side of the world and try to adopt.
I am also unsure what Husband, otherwise known as hub-cap, or I suppose H, wants. Not because I haven't asked him - but because he doesn't seem to know.
There have been times also when I have even questioned us. When I think we have questioned us. That seems lesser, or better, right now. But I know it can easily come back.
Our life is pure limbo. Which can mean freedom, a blank canvas. It can mean time for recuperating and recovering strength. Or it can mean desolation and depression and lack of purpose. Like that proverbial halfway glass it is hard to say. So I have decided to start writing a blog.