Some months on now

Some months on now.

Have been dealing with Husband's depression and the re-building of our marriage.

Have been enjoying my new job, enjoying being normal again, breathing out and giving myself a break.

It is good to be drinking again. Eating whatever I like. Living again. Pushing the child thing away and not thinking or agonising about it for a while.

Trying to move forward and cope with a childless life.

It isn't the end of the world. I can learn to be happy childless. I didn't think I could but I can.

Whatever, forcing the issue wasn't getting anyone anywhere. I have to live for the moment and see what happens for a bit. Trust in the way of the world, the way things are, fate.

The other way was driving me to the brink, probably contributing to the emotional wreck of a state that B is in.

Trying to come to terms with the emotion of the past few years, I have begun to realise quite a few things.

One is that my yearning for a child, for a family, was genuine. It is still genuine, that will never die.

But there was also something else going on. The years of tortuous trying, unhelpful doctors who drove me crazy with their ineptitude, the constant battle to try and make things happen - all this was making everything worse and making life unlivable.

It made me frantic with frustration and crazy with the exhaustion of trying too hard. No proper solution or way forward could have happened in that state.

It is the time to just start being happy now. No more of this wallowing in misery wishing for something I may never be able to have.

Sad

Am not angry anymore, just sad. Found myself crying this morning, out of the blue. Just reading the paper and tears streaming down my face. No particular thoughts, just emptiness, and sadness.

I got ridiculously anxious yesterday before going to a friend's bbq for the World Cup England vs USA game. Should have been a nice thing. See a nice group of friends, be cooked for, have much needed fun. But I got all worked up about whether to go or not, and none of my concerns made any sense, not even to me.

I realise now I didn't want to face people after the failed IVF. Tell them, see their sympathetic looks, confront it in any way. One nice friend just said she was sorry and I found that I couldn't even respond to her or acknowledge her comment in anyway. I filled up with tears and started asking her about something else, something about her life. Talking really fast as if that would make it all go away.

Anger at the Clinic

O dear. Don't feel so OK anymore. Somehow the sadness has come and overwhelmed me a little. I feel very vulnerable and delicate and close to tears today.

It started with anger last night, and I could not sleep. I started thinking about the clinic and how impersonal they were, how little attention was paid to us, my response to the drugs, my symptoms, and the generally dismissive, slack and uncaring way we were treated through a very harrowing experience.

Maybe I am getting the situation out of perspective through some stage of the grief process but I feel we were taken advantage of in our delicate state and I am now suspicious that the optimum was not done to ensure success.

When I called to give them my results on Tuesday they said I needed a follow-up appointment. When I said I could not do next week because of starting my new job they suggested a phone 9.30am appointment, which was fine. At 10.10am, 40 minutes late, I called up to see what was happening. I was told the consultant was busy but would call me when she could. When I pointed out we had been waiting 40 minutes and asked if we could have a clearer idea of time the doctor came on the phone angry, saying she had pregnancy scans that day which had to be priority, she was 'fitting in' this call as a favour because I could not come the next week. I felt let down and angry that, the day after a BFN, when I was in a fragile state, she was angry with me for questioning an appointment which was already 40 minutes late. I did not show my anger but moved on but in retrospect it makes my blood boil. We have paid her nearly £5,000. It is one thing to be late and busy but not to apologise and be angry at that stage of the game is, I think, out of order.

It was the last straw in a build up of issues. It was always a battle to get any appointment. Even to get them to answer the phone/reply to email at times. Then we were kept waiting at least 30-40 minutes at every appointment. During the last appointment we had with our 'consultant' (before we even started any treatment - she was absent from all proceedings until the day after the BFN after that) someone actually came into the room while we were talking and rushed her out, saying they needed her for something.

At this appointment, she had said she wanted me to see the thyroid specialist she worked with to prescribe me steroids as I have high thyroid antibodies. She would send him a letter, and send it to me, to explain what she wanted from him. When I got to the appointment 10 days I had not received any letter and neither had he. I eventually got this letter a couple of weeks later, when I was mid-way through the drugs.

I tried to explain to him what she had said to him anyhow. He said he didn't think I had any issues but would do a blood test to make sure. I never received the results to this blood test, despite chasing several times. 1 of the nurses asked me about it when I went to start my other drugs. I said he had said he would write to the consultant. The nurse actually said maybe he had but maybe the letter was lost under a pile of paperwork. She said she would ask the consultant. I heard nothing and the next time I came in for a scan my follicle had suddenly grown ready for collection and it was too late for the steroids anyhow. At this stage in the game I made the decision not to dwell on this negative aspect of things and keep positive so pushed it all out of my mind, but the consultant or thyroid specialist have never explained or got back to me about what happened and I can't help but think it was all very unprofessional and unthorough. What if these steroids had made a difference? Even if they would not have it would have been nice to be informed and reassured.

This is all in addition to the fact that they told me I had a follicle which had 'disappeared' days later, and the strange 'egg which didn't look like an egg but then turned into an egg' on collection day. And the mixed and inconsistent information I got whenever I called up the nurses for advice. Some nurses were incredibly lovely. But some really were not.

This might all be out of proportion in my mind. It might not all be so terrible. And it certainly is not going to help me to dwell on it too much. But I never want to go back to that clinic again.

What Happens Next

Feeling surprisingly ok. Have had moments of anguish, bursting into tears on the train, but even that feels ok. Have just let myself cry then felt better again. Am just taking life slowly.

Things with H are a lot better which clearly helps. He still has these moments of extreme irritability which send fear to my heart but since that horrid Sunday, he has managed to control them, or quickly re-correct them, and I have managed not to over-react to them and just walk away and let him be grumpy.

We had a good talk on Tuesday after the BFN. Went for a meal at his suggestion. Lovely to have a couple of glasses of lovely wine. Had been a while. Our waitress was very pregnant which upset him, but I was strangely ok about it.

I told him that while I felt we needed to take 'the summer off', have some fun, try and sort our relationship out, I was not prepared to wait another year for whatever happens next to happen. He has made me do that twice before. Not intentionally perhaps, but it ended up being a year each time until he was ready and my eggs do not have such time. I also don't think this dragging things out has helped either of us. So I would want to tackle the 'next' by September.

He asked what I saw the 'next' as being. I said I felt my eggs had given up the ghost so maybe egg donation from Spain. It easier to get a Spanish egg as they have different laws there. Also I am half Spanish so somehow like the idea of a Spanish egg if its not my own.

He started talking about adoption. He seemed really into it despite the fact it would tie him to the UK for longer. His older sister is adopted and his brother-in-law and he has really good associations.

I started to think that maybe this was a good idea, especially since he was so positive. He wanted to get the ball rolling straight away and at the moment I feel I should just go with this possibility and not dwell too long. It would mean no drugs, no vast quantities of cash being doled out, no cruel, chance dependent process to mess with your mind. In effect, egg donation would be adopting an egg anyway. I would love the child as much I am sure. All I really crave is a child to look after, a family. I would miss the pregnancy but who knows, if I let this happen there may be time for IVF again in the future.

Meanwhile the doctor did say we should try again, but my faith in her has been lost. Considering my lack of egg this time, and the confusions of my treatment, and the lack of the personal touch all the way through the process at this clinic, I do not know whether she is saying this to get more money from us or because she really genuinely does think it is the best thing to do.

I think we would have to change clinics all over again if we went IVF again. Plus I really don't think H could afford/ cope with it all, and he is so positive about adoption.

I hope we can find some calm time to talk about it more this weekend.

Gandhi

Keep your thoughts positive, because your thoughts become your words.

Keep your words positive, because your words become your behaviours.

Keep your behaviours positive, because your behaviours become your habits.

Keep your habits positive, because your habits become your values.

Keep your values positive, because your values become your destiny.

- Mahatma Gandhi

BFN

BFN. Was expecting it but still feel numb.

Shouted and hung up on a Virgin Media call centre man who refused to help after his engineer cut off our TV. He just didn't care, didn't even pretend to help, despite it obviously being their error. Engineer came yesterday to fix the internet and cut us off the TV as well. Just when I need TV trash the most.

Passed the hassle onto H who seemed chomping at the bit to attack them. Now not sure was a good idea. Also want to call them and shout at them some more.

H seemed surprised at the BFN. Didn't know what to say. Had seemed to blatantly obvious to me.

My friend was BFN as well. It feels like it is all a scam. IVF swallowing your money and no success.

Weekend Release

Weekend away for the wedding of my mum's best friend was the tonic I dearly needed.

H too. Drinking wine and joking around with a group of really nice people seemed to do him the world of good, he is back to his old self. At least for now.

Actually, he was good from Friday night when he came back. Doesn't seem to accept that just because I am bleeding means that I am not pregnant. I suppose the nurse in the clinic was quite emphatic that bleeding can happen. Its just I am pretty sure she didn't mean bleeding this much. It was nice to feel he had some hope though, somehow made me feel better. I will take the test tomorrow just in case, while not expecting much.

I have been feeling very tired, though. At points during the wedding and when I got back last night. Have been collapsed for most of today also. In and out of sleep on the sofa. I suppose it is a natural side effect of losing all this blood.

Was in a big dilemma about whether to drink at the wedding. In my head I can't see how I am pregnant. I have let myself have a bath and drink some caffeine. But alcohol seemed a step too far. In the end I volunteered myself as driver which took the dilemma away. Then found I didn't actually want to drink anyway. In retrospect I don't think I would not have been up to it as felt like I had a hangover without having a drop anyhow! I will allow myself a symbolic cocktail if the test is negative though.

The Comfort of Familiar Strangers

Odd day. Started so calmly. I thought I could cope with not being pregnant. That I was more accepting this time. I got stuck into the much needed gardening. Or de-weeding.

But as the day wore on emotions gave way. A friend sent me a necklace through the post, out of the blue, to let me know she was thinking of me. It had a little dolly on it, the symbol of our friendship group, and BF. Before I knew it I was bawling my eyes out in the garden.

Then I got angry with H, the fact that he wasn't there. The fact he hasn't been there for me this time. I know he can't help it. That being angry at him will just make things worse. But they were moments of fury, of blame.

Then I bought some plants to replace the weeds and felt better. Just going to see the flower man always makes me smile. He has become my friend. Then I went to my acupuncture appointment, having decided to lie to her, not tell her about my period starting. But I couldn't keep it up. She is so nice. And I trust her. I ended up crying in her room. She did some 'heart points' on me and I realised how good she is. Amazing how immediately comforted and warmed it made me feel.

Now I am in the cafe up the road which does Wi-Fi. Internet connection failed at home. Like the acupuncturist and the flower man, the funny little waiters here are also reassuringly familiar. I am not ready for facing friends yet but it is amazing what comfort can be got from these familiar strangers. Since talking to these three I feel sad but calm. Ok. In control.

I just need not to think that today probably means I will never have children. That dark thought which lurks unconfronted. I cannot quite confront it yet.

Full blown

Full blown period now. I know it can happen - but it feels like clutching at straws to believe I might possibly be pregnant now.

Somehow the fact that this period came so early, earlier even than last time, makes me feel more of a failure. I don't even get to do the test to see.

On top of this it is so bleak with H. He is working late and is very distant since Sunday's outburst. I emailed his sister with my concerns and she has replied very sensibly, but compounded my feelings that he just cannot live in this country. And I cannot live in Australia. Especially since it would just be for him.

Spotting - Beginning of the End?

Spotting has commenced. Brief blob yesterday then more this morning.

Rang clinic and they said lots of women have spotting in early pregnancy so to double up on the pessaries. But I feel it is the beginning of the end. Is too similar to last time. Don't know if it was my imagination but the nurse's voice of sympathy seemed to tell a different story to her words.

It was like that first doctor's eyes just before she told us that it wasn't just the case of H's low sperm and my high FSH but my almost negligent AMH. Didn't understand much except the sense of doom in her eyes at the time. Now realise that little statistic means my chances of pregnancy with my own eggs are very rare, almost negligent.

I know I should still have faith. Somehow it has failed me.

Went to Yoga last night. Took it very easy so it could not have been that. In fact it helped me. It is a very meditative class and I felt for a second while I was in there that it would be ok if I wasn't pregnant. Not in a 'I don't want to be pregnant way'. Obviously I still desperately do. But I felt, very temporarily, that it wouldn't mean the world caving in. The teacher is a funny little fella who likes to ramble on philosophically and he started talking about 'getting to Lakar’ in India. He said the path was not always clear. At certain times of the year it is to full of snow to pass and you had to wait, take pauses. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get there eventually. I felt very calm at that stage. That things could be good even if this doesn’t work.

Who knows, H says all he needs to be happier is to move away from the UK. Maybe if we did this, IVF would be easier, or something will happen more organically. Maybe it is all part of some bigger plan.

But I was still hoping for more time to hope. This spotting is so early - barely a week from transfer. Couldn't I have had a few days more?

Wordless Wednesday

Negative Day

Feeling very negative today. No pains in the tummy and have just stopped believing I might be pregnant. I feel too normal. The odds are too stacked against me. Even if they weren't the stress of H and how badly we are getting on has probably destroyed all chances.

Yet I have still got a whole week to wait and find out for sure. Hell.

Panic Over a Pessary

Woke up this morning realising was too sleepy to put in the pessary last night. They said to do it at bedtime and I had been perhaps being to strict about this, doing it the last thing before crawling into bed. But I was so tired last night I fell asleep on the sofa and had to crawl my way to bed.

Awful feeling having forgotten something like this. Obviously immediately put one in in the morning but have spent most of the day worrying about it.

What a scatterbrained fool.

Laura Munson - "I Don't Buy It."

Just re-read an article I pulled out from the paper a couple of weeks ago. Here is a bit:

One fine day, in the mountains of Montana, Laura Munson's husband said to her, 'I don't love you any more. I'm not sure I ever did. I'm moving out. The kids will understand. They'll want me to be happy.'

What is the normal reaction of this kind of announcement? You can sob and wail and get down on your knees and beg. Alternatively, you can pick up a meat cleaver and, when the car skids off the driveway, cut the crotch out of all his suits. But Munson did none of these things. She wasn't going to let him get away with this. She said, 'I don't buy it.'

He apparently looked surprised. The next thing he said was, 'I don't like what you've become.'

At this point, Munson says, 'a shroud of calm enveloped me.' Again she said, 'I don't buy it.'

Part of me thinks this is weak. How can she put up with being talked to like that, treated with such little kindness or respect. But part of me knows she is strong.

I need to memorise her words.

His words really were sticks and stones, it turned out.

She also asked him, 'What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?'. When he ranted she again said, 'I just asked: what can we do to give you the distance you need.'

She explains: 'Then he can't play victim. He has to take responsibility for his own well being. When you don't engage in the drama, it bounces back to the person who flung it in the first place.'

She uses the analogy of a child having a tantrum and shouting out that they hate you. You don't join in or answer back. You ignore the tantrum and walk away. Not that he was being a child. The spiritual malaise was a very profound personal crisis. But he needed time out. She had destructive thoughts. But kept her composure in front of her husband and children.

And the moral of it all? It's all about letting things go. Suddenly, the minute I let go of ever getting published, and of my marital outcome, that is when everything turns round.

2ww and nervous breakdowns

The lovely 2WW. Lovely limbo-land.

My friend also going through it all, who even ended up having the same transfer day as me, mentioned that someone said aches in the tummy area can mean implantation. As much as I tried not to let it, this inevitably made me think 'Ah! A sign!' every time I had a twinge. Regardless of the fact that I had my insides flushed several times last week - enough to make anyone twinge. Boobs sore as well. And yesterday I suddenly got all weak in town.

Signs, or recovery?

And, as if the 2WW wasn't enough to contend with, H seems to be having some sort of nervous breakdown too. Totally flipped out this weekend, twice. Ranting, raving, making no sense. First time we laughed it off and moved on. Then it happened all over again a day later. It seems he is an unreachable bundle of stress and anxiety and just can't cope any more.

I don't think he can help it. That's the worst. I can't be angry with him. There's no point. Explains why I have found him so unsupportive this IVF time around. He has been barely hanging on. Thing is I don't know how to help him either.

Have also let myself succumb to a coffee. Have been pretty good. I don't think I have ever yearned so much for a vodka shot as I did yesterday but I settled for nice caffeine free Rooibus tea.

Bingo

Bingo. Our one little egg fertilised. What a hero (heroine?).

Call came after a wierdly calm morning. Calm but very restless. House very tidy now. Now time to curl up and watch DVDs I think. Is a nice rainy day which is perfect.

To Be Or Not To Be... Positive

Whatever happens, this morning’s events have made me feel clearer about the ‘to be or not to be positive’ dilemma which has confused me for quite some time.

There is a school of thought which says you should be prepared for the realistic eventuality with IVF, have a clear idea about your likelihood of success. Ie, in our case, probable failure. Our last doctor even put this in her letter. ‘The couple are prepared for success to be unlikely’. She kept going on about it every step of the way. Even just before transfer. My acupuncturist told me about a client who was having IUI whose doctor said, at the actual moment he/she was transferring in the sperm: "We'll do IVF next time if this doesn't work."

Others, especially nurses I have found, believe it is very important to keep positive until you know the game is up. Being prepared and dwelling on negative outcomes certainly doesn’t stop you feeling the anguish of them if they actually happen, I can personally attest to that. It hurts no matter what. I seriously doubt it hurts more if you were completely positive before. Of course, doctors are perhaps understandably protecting themselves against patients accusing them if bad chances were not underlined. But this is about them. Their warnings do not help the patients in any way, prepare them for, or ease their hurt and grief.

It is not just that there are few negatives to being positive, there are actually many positives to being positive. At least along the IVF journey, until the result is definitive. It aids your quality of life. It potentially lowers stress levels. It definitely helps your relationships with your partner, friends and colleagues.

Until now I have sat on the fence on this debate. People should just feel as positive or negative as they feel, was my thought. You can’t force anything. It is good when you are hopeful regardless of doctor warnings but it can be a pressure to feel happy if you don’t. Plus for a long time I needed to vent, wallow in the mire, let myself be a miserable, stroppy mare. It seemed a necessary stage of acceptance after all the years of ‘trying’.

But while I still believe all this something has shifted in my thought pattern. It is subtle but it is there. It is not about not allowing yourself to be miserable. It is about letting yourself be positive once you have vented and feel strong enough to go on.

The anaesthetist who couldn’t find my follicle definitely didn’t help in her attempts to over-prepare me for my lack of follicles, and the chances of the lack of eggs in them. It was unnecessary anguish to deal with just before going ‘under’ on anaesthetic drugs. I could have been told the follicle was gone after, I was anyway, it simply didn’t help and made things worse to know this was a possibility before. She really, really (really) didn’t help when, as I was groggily resurfacing from general anaesthetic, she told me she did find something, but she wasn’t even sure it was an egg. Especially since it was, and she could have said they just needed to do some lab tests until they knew.

In contrast, the second anaesthetist, who did not seem to be in charge for some reason, said simply after the search for the missing follicle: "You only need one egg. There's a good follicle there. There's everything to be positive for."

"Thank-you," I remember saying as I lost focus and spaced out.

What Happened on Egg Collection Day

Well, it's not all over yet but it didn't go great. Understatement.

They did a scan just before I went in for collection and the main anaesthetist woman couldn't find the other follicle. She said they would have another proper look when I was under the anaesthetic. I do not know whether the original scanner saw something which wasn't a follicle or this woman just couldn't find it. I had problems with scanners not finding follicles last time when they ended up turning up.

When I woke up from the anaesthetic she said they searched and searched and couldn't find the follicle. She said she found something in the other follicle which might be an egg but she wasn't sure so sent it up to the lab for them to check.

I started to cry. It was all tears for a while then as they wheeled me back into the hospital room to see H. He was lovely and let me vent.

Then I got a phone call from the job people offering me the job. This did make me feel elated for a while though it was weird discussing start dates and the like from a hospital bed. Then the lab phoned and said the egg which didn't look like an egg was an egg and they would try and fertilise it. We will find out tomorrow if it worked.

The anaesthetist came in the room and looked very relieved and said "I was lucky". I don't feel lucky. Have serious reservations about her, but know the blame game is not helpful to anyone, especially me.

Was elated about the job and re-appearance of the egg for a while. This got me home. Propelled me through a sore journey to the train and on the train and to bed.

Now I am home the negativity seems to be returning. Going to finish this and write up another blog which I wrote on the train. I hope this might help.

Double yolker

So. D Day tomorrow. Eggies come out. In myself, feel ok. I feel OK about the 2 follicle thing now. What will be will be. And you only need one good eggie. I holding out for a double yolker.

But things have been tense with H again. He kept letting me down all weekend and just doesn't seem to be in this experience with me this time at all, which makes me feel so lonely. But then, I am very demanding of him at the moment too. I have no tolerance at all. And if this all works out, I know things would be ok. It is the infertility which has torn us so apart. If it doesn't who knows but will deal with that then.

Had a job interview this morning also and haven't a clue how it went, but I really want the job all of a sudden. Can really imagine myself there, being happy.

Fingers crossed that luck is about to change. Had an email back from that friend who I had a falling out with last year. Seems there's a chance of recovery there. So if we go by the 'everything goes in threes' theory that is the first good thing, and there are two more to follow. Job and, i dare not say the other one but I think it is obvious what it should be.

Only 2 Follicles But They Are Good Ones, Apparently

Well. What a day. Went to the clinic for what I expected to be just a scan and now we are down to do egg collection on Tuesday. It happened so fast.

There are only 2 follicles which made me cry. There were 4 last time and that was considered low. In the old clinic she would not have recommended going ahead with just 2.

But they seem to see it different at the new place. They said they were good follicles - full size. They also said the fact that the follicles had grown to full size so quickly, in just a week, was a good sign. Meant they were good quality. H said he remembered the doctor saying she would be pleased with 2, and that just 2 would be good. The lovely nurse said the fact that both were the same size was a good thing too. Not 100% sure what it all means when people say all these things are good things but it doesn't hurt to have faith and believe them all I suppose.

The nurse was a godsend. At my last visit the nurse was quite cold and clinical and I just felt she was irritated at every question I asked, but thankfully this one was warm and caring and exactly what I needed. I wanted to take her home with me. keep her for all emergencies, in the spare room. A girl who had been in the waiting room with her mum at the same time as me, went in for her scan just after me. I had come out flabbergasted and confused about the egg collection, downhearted about the only 2 follicles thing, waiting to see the nurse. Then that same girl had come out to get her mum, dripping with tears. I recognised that expression so well, and how it had changed from just a few minutes before when we had been sat, with fear and hope, waiting for our scans, our updates - maybe our futures. Things can change so completely in such a short space of time.

Anyhow, it all started me off, and the nurse came out to find me dripping with tears too.

But rollercoaster moments. By the time I came out from seeing her I felt a lot better. The tears then returned when I phoned H and he didn't immediately pick up. I felt so lonely walking through London streets alone without anyone to share my thoughts with. I even started thinking about that girl's mum and how she had been there. It got better as soon as he did call back. But then I was dazed and so, so tired when I went to a pre-arranged meet with 2 old school friends. Nice sitting in the park in the sun but very unreal.

Now I am just so weary and stunned from it all. Worried about all the re-arranging I have to do as it all happened so fast, but trying to just go with it. Be passive. It's supposed to be good to be passive - your body is supposed to be more responsive that way.

I have managed to get myself an acupuncture appointment for the Monday which is good. I could probably do without the job interview on Monday morning but hey ho, maybe the distraction will be a good thing - on both counts. I can't see myself getting as nervous as I usually do about the interview this time. It is with the RSPCA. I like the sound of that. It would be wrong to pass the opportunity up.

When I Cannot Think of Nothing

Feeling extremely frazzled and exhausted. Very emotional. Very snappy. Forgot the drugs did this to you.

Just read this in my book. I liked it.

"Bessi says I think too much, and I get so sad sometimes - so I'd think about nothing.

"It's hard to think about nothing. I've tried it. You end up thinking about everything and getting stressed out. It's best to just think of one thing. A good thing."

He put his arms around her shoulders. "Sadness comes and goes like the seasons," he said. "Look at the sea. Think about that."

They said nothing for a long time. Georgia watched. The sun put diamonds on the waves. Towards dusk, there was a change in colour. It astonished her.

She wrote in her notebook, so that she would not forget: "Peace of mind, give me the calm to notice that there is a point along the ocean's horizon where the watery blue changes to a deeper complexion of blueness. When I cannot think of nothing, I must get away and come and find the sea."

As If I Was Famous

This is an experiment. These interviews with set questions which appear in the Guardian Weekend every Saturday always intrigue me. I thought I would pretend I was famous and answer them this time - in a first-thing-that-comes-into-my-head kind of way.

When were you happiest?

The first couple of years with H. Finally found the piece of the puzzle that was missing. Family was on the horizon, job was good, life was full of fun and friendship and togetherness.

What is your greatest fear?
Loneliness.

What is your earliest memory?
Waking up from a confusing dream and stumbling into my mum's room.

Which living person do you most admire?

A friend who has been living with terminal Cancer for about six years now yet is always everyone's shoulder to cry on and never feels sorry for herself.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Anxious paranoia.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Malice. That quality which makes certain people purposely put others down and try to harm them psychologically simply to make themselves feel better, more powerful. Also manipulation - playing people off against each other.

Aside from a property, what's the most expensive thing you've bought?
A plane ticket home from Australia via New Zealand, the Cook Islands and Los Angeles.

What is your most treasured possession?
My cat.

What do you most dislike about your appearance?
Worry lines.

If you could go back in time, where would you go?
To the first couple of years with H.

If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose?
My cat who disappeared.

What is your favourite book?
So many but Wuthering Heights I think. Or Alice in Wonderland?

What is the worst thing anyone's said to you?
Don't want to dwell on that.

What is your guiltiest pleasure?
Biscuits and boxsets in the afternoon. Or Home and Away.

To whom would you most like to say sorry, and why?
When I was a news reporter I had to do death knocks. Once I ended up on the doorstep of a little girl's house moments after she had died. I would like to say sorry to her parents. I was told to do it but I should have refused and walked away. Later on I pretended I had knocked and never did.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
H.

Who would you invite to your dream dinner party?
My dearest friends.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
I don't understand/ I feel misunderstood.

If you could edit your past, what would you change?
I would say some of the things I was too scared to. Regret lingers on so much more than embarrassment. I would tell lots of boys I liked them, friends that I had had a great time, strangers that I would like to give that a go. I wish I had been less shy in my youth, less afraid of rejection. The best things that have happened in my life involved throwing caution to the wind.

How do you relax?
Lying in a candle-lit bubble bath or in the sun. Both with a book which I sometimes read, sometimes just look at and think about reading.

What single thing would improve the quality of your life?
Children. A family.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Conquering a lot of my fear and shyness.

What keeps you awake at night?
Anxiety.

What is the most important lesson life has taught you?
You can't control it.

Where would you most like to be right now?
In a sunny garden with H and children running round.

Wanderer returns

H back. For the time being all is lovely again.

He did the drugs last night. Not much better at it than me if the truth be known but at least there's one less responsibility for me to handle. And so far we are good together. He laughed when I made broccoli (one of the things the doctor recommended for fertility) and he ate it rather than getting angry about 'old wives tales' and us having to dedicate our lives to the fertility battle.

Can we really have turned a corner? I daren't believe it, trust it. Part of me is suspicious, waiting for the horrors to return.

New temping job today too which is fun. PA to the Dean of infectious diseases up at the medical school at the University. At first I was a bit befuddled as it was unclear exactly what I was supposed to be doing but by the end of the day I was really enjoying it.

The Dean is a very short but very nice man. Not got little man syndrome at all. Obviously passionate about what he does and an academic - but not distant or hoity toity.

I spent the afternoon typing up letters confirming jobs after the probationary period had passed. He was so effusive about how wonderful every single person was, I nearly shed a tear. There was even a slightly cross letter asking whether it wasn't an insult to such obviously talented people to put them through this probationary rigmarole at all. Wasn't it obvious they should be confirmed? He felt embarrassed even bringing it up.

I did have some issues with technology though which made me feel like a dysfunctional cartoon character. I don't know whether it was me or the archaic systems they use. Probably both. The dean asked me to make a cappuccino, which is fine, probably the job of a PA for all I know. But I wasn't very good at it and the machine nearly exploded. Then a student came in wanting to use the fax machine and we couldn't get it to work. Then I had issues with the machine which imported his dictaphone and everyone ended up getting involved - not very helpfully. Even the email seems to be misbehaving. The Dean keeps saying he has sent emails but none come through. Sigh.

Menopur Madness

O dear. am suffering from a bit of a dip today I fear. And had been going so well.

Started on the Menopur last night and perhaps predictably found it very stressful. It isn't the actual sticking the needle in now, that felt curiously easy, it is all the fiddly stuff - the mixing up of the powers and liquids. As I am such a lost cause I am on the highest dose possible, which means I have to inject six vials worth of liquid. This involves putting the mixing needle full of liquid into one vial so that it mixes with the powder in there then drawing up every last drop and repeating for the other five vials. I didn't even seem to be able to manage doing one vial properly but left quite an amount of liquid in the bottom of the vial. I kept on putting the needle in the vial and trying to draw up again but each time I failed, with every vial I tried. I got myself pretty worked up, practically crying with frustration and despair, and even screamed at the poor cat who was mioawing at the door since I had shut her out. I felt terrible. She is not used to being shouted at.

In the end, after about an hour of doing this vial-and-needle dance, I just injected what I could but am sure I missed quite a lot. This depressed me. As it took so long I missed talking to H who was going to phone to see how it went and also meant I was late going round to a friend's for dinner.

I have felt quite down and flat ever since. Didn't do too much at all today except housework despite having had plans and even ended up watching three episodes of the West Wing this afternoon. Been a while since I succumbed to daytime TV. Doesn't seem to be that good a sign.

I don't know whether this mood is a result of the drugs or the trauma or just a general mood. Also got a letter in the post today from the clinic, obviously delayed, should have come after the last consultation a month and a half ago. It outlined our scenario but seemed full of very negative language, as if it is very unlikely we will even get to the egg collection stage.

Also have an ongoing issue with a friend I fell out with last year, or more accurately who fell out with me. She got pregnant in the heights of my despair about my infertility. It was a time when I was commuting and working horrific shifts as well as dealing with extreme heartache and actually not seeing many people at all. Maybe I saw even less of her than most people because of the pregnancy, I don't know, or maybe because she is an extremely tactless person. Anyhow, it felt out-of-the-blue and unjustified when she took extreme offence, accused me of "not being happy for her" and abused me to all mutual friends, even calling up H. I sent her an email trying to explain I had no personal grudge against her, that I just needed my own space as was going through a very difficult time and received "I am pregnant and don't need your emotional shit" as a reply. I have been very angry and resentful about this and neither of us have contacted us for 6 months or so, despite the birth of her son and other stuff. Recently I have been filled with the need to leave adolescent nonsense behind and move forward and tried to make contact again. I sent a short email asking if she would like to meet for coffee, I was not proposing revisiting old sources of conflict but it would be nice to be a presence in each other's lives. It has been nearly a week now but there has been no reply. Not quite sure what I expected, but it has re-opened all the old wounds of hurt all over again. I should never have gone there...

Always Answer The Phone With a Big Smile

Amazing night last night. Went to see 2 breathtaking shows at the festival. The first a play about a strange but very tender and true love between a celebrated 19th Century poet and his maid. Unconventional and disapproved of by society but very real all the same. The second an 'urban' circus - a group of streetkids from Colombia fusing bonkers acrobatics, intoxicating dance and mind-blowing stunts with a zestful, sexy swagger. Both were life-affirming. I came home feeling great.

It is so great to feel great and un-burdened by this treatment thing. I can't help but compare things a bit with last time. A year ago (almost) on our first round of IVF. Part of me thinks it is all completely different now, this time. I am going out rather than hiding away, I don't feel so broken. I am temping locally and by-and-large enjoying it rather than exhaustingly hiking to work in London for ludicrous shift patterns plus all the politics and stress of fitting in my treatments around work. Yes, at times it feels like it is all much better now.

But then again, there is this doubt saying: 'Really? Is it Really so different?' There was a period of great darkness followed by a period of hope last year too. I remember feeling good during the drug taking and lead up to collection and transfer too. We were being proactive. I was happy. Maybe it all is a recurring pattern.

I had a good day today too. Lovely acupuncture session this morning then on my way home I got a call from the temping agency saying they needed someone for a few hours this afternoon. It was in a plastic surgery clinic. Intriguing. There were lots of Buxom blondes come to check up on their breast enlargement. A few more unexpected types too - overweight ladies with walking sticks coming for skin treatment. Perhaps they needed something to make them feel happier, better with themselves.

I did not have to do much, except dress up. Or so the agency woman said. She made a big deal about telling me I had to do my hair and put on nail varnish and wear a black suit. I even felt panicked about it. I don't have a black suit. I have been told black clashes with my skin tone. I wore what I think is smart, office-y grey skirt, white Gap shirt and high heels. Had quite a job tottering down there in heels. Then got there and felt very overdressed. That patronising whatsit agency woman talking rubbish at me. What did she think? I was going to turn up in jeans?

Anyway it didn't matter. All I had to do apparently is 'Be lovely to everyone'. There was a lot of emphasis on 'being lovely' there. Even a sign which said 'Answer the phone with a big smile'. I enjoyed bathing in all the loveliness for an afternoon. Feeling all sunny and 'We are here to help' -ish. Maybe if I am in need someday I will go and get a nose job - just to bask in the loveliness some more.

To Drink or Not To Drink

Well another day and the injections feel like they are getting easier. Must have done something different or better as the needle went in really easily.

Am feeling tired but a lot better than last week when I was on the pill, when I felt very emotional all the time. I still find myself having anxieties but they are worries about things going wrong rather than feeling things are wrong. At the moment I have been filling my life with fun festival things to do. Saw one play yesterday, a very low key fringe rendition of the Greek myth of Dido. Going to see two more tonight and then another tomorrow. Wowzers. Haven't been so cultural in an age.

I suppose going to see things means the not drinking thing is not such an issue. I want to keep social and busy this time around but seeing certain friends makes it very hard not to drink. Was invited to a dinner party in 2 weekends today which normally would be lovely but found myself getting all anxious about it. The friends just do not understand the not drinking thing. See it as an old wives tale or something. I could just about cope with it but there would be problems with H I feel. Maybe we should just not go though that seems a shame to cut ourselves off.

Agghhh. there goes my anxious brain again - causing issues where there need be none.

When will your thumb ovulate?

Well the day came to start the treatments again. Despite being almost a year it feels quite fast all of a sudden. I had been taking the pill for the past 2 weeks and went in for a scan on Thursday. They gave me all the needles and told me to start with the Seprecur the next day. This shuts you down a bit in preparation for the Menopur which I have to start after a week. The Menopur will help the ovaries grow. Hopefully. I don't have to go back until after I have been injecting the Menopur, with a reduced dose of the Seprecur, for a week.

H is away for work for 2 weeks which makes me sad as I had hoped this was something we would do together. But hey ho. Last time I had to do it alone too. I was working funny shifts so was at work and had to slip away to find spare rooms to lay out my needles and potions. It left me feeling slightly sordid. And paranoid I would get caught and have to explain to some random person.

So at least I am home this time even if it is home alone. And H has been calling. He has been very attentive and kind actually.

I thought the actual injecting would be easier, being experienced and everything. But no. I got the needle out on the first day and my butter fingers somehow managed to stab my thumb with it. It swelled up and went purple. H asked when it will ovulate.

I also got confused because the needle point didn't reach the liquid in the phial. It was not until I phoned the nurse that I was realised the obvious. I was supposed to turn it upside down.

I am just not a natural at all this stuff. The next day I panicked because a scab formed. the third day I agonised because I thought maybe the scab meant I wasn't supposed to push the needle point all the way in as I had been. I searched the internet for wisdom, even watching a 'how to inject' video on YouTube. In the end I phoned the nurse again - already irritated with me. She said fine to push it all the way in. The scab would have been because I would have hit a blood vessel. Ouch. that does not sound good

Weekend holes

Wow. Feeling strong and good at the moment. Am on the pill as the first stage of treatment and it is making me feel a bit wobbly and emotional at times but am aware about this so it is ok.

Things are, I think, a lot better with H. We had a huge fight at the weekend because he wants to go to Houston for two weeks for work. I did not have a problem with this but he thought I did and to cut a long story short we both exploded in misconceptions about each other and it was all horrible for a while.

But we did manage to scream a few things out into the open as a result. I have been very hurt by lots of the rage he has screamed at me over the past few months and now I have told him. He also has been able to reassure me I am not alone in this IVF journey and he will be there if I need him to be. We are going to buy the drugs together tonight. For some reason I have been delaying and putting off buying them so far by myself. This has made me feel strong and good and supported again.

I can't imagine anything more testing to a relationship than infertility. It hits us at the core of everything. His infertility made him feel less like a man. He called himself a Jaffa - seedless fruit. I suppose mine has also made me feel me less like a real woman, or without the role and sense of purpose of a real woman which I long for. Nothing else seemed to matter to me for much of the past 2 years or so except the pursuit of fertility treatments. I suppose that made him feel that he didn't matter.

Most importantly, the lack of child leaves this gaping hole in our daily lives and makes us feel less of a family. Weekends can be very hard. It is as if we don't really know what to do with our time. It is no accident that we always argue at weekend time then things are lovely during the week.

Switch to positive?

An old friend is also going through IVF at the moment and has been having a hard time coming to terms with it. She said she had been feeling overwhelmingly negative and hopeless about it all.

She dislikes the idea of the drugs - she doesn't normally even do Neurofen. Plus she has been feeling it won't work, and if it does she will miscarry, and if even this doesn't happen the baby will be born with Downs.

She told all this to the nurse who suggested she had nothing to lose by switching these thoughts around to positive ones.

My friend said wasn't that just setting herself up for a fall?

The nurse said if there was a fall it would hurt no matter what and she would have to deal with it if it happened. She had nothing to lose by being positive in the meantime.

Thyroid and AMH despair

I just had an appointment with a thyroid specialist, referred to by our fertility specialist. He doesn't think I have a thyroid problem. This is a good thing, but has made me sad.

I was so bouyant going up to London to see him. So hopeful. I even wore my sunny yellow cardigan and bought a colourful new bag. I was on the road to IVF again. It was exciting.

Those horrible months when it looked like H was going to pull away from it all were over. He had come around, at least for this cycle. It seemed he had just been afraid. It was all on again.

But now it is me who is afraid. Going through those papers again, explaining to the new guy our story, I remembered how bleak it is.

My AMH should be higher than 5, yet it is consistently 0.7. This is extraordinarily low and means I have hardly any eggs, or good eggs, am not sure which. I also have high FSH which means the same thing.

It is not something anyone has an explanation for. Or knows how to treat.

How I long for twisted fallopian tubes. Or cysts. Or anything clear cut and graspable. I especially long for us to be back to when they thought all that was wrong with us was H's low sperm count.

But what I have seems unfixable, a mystery. The NHS won't touch us. Not even the local private clinic held out much hope. We are going to the last chance saloon in London, the specialists in hopeless causes.

I went to this doctor because one of the tests I did with one of the people I have seen showed I have some high thyroid anti-bodies. This can sometimes have repercussions for fertility and mean the embryo doesn't 'stick' to the lining of the womb. This is easy to treat.

I suppose I had hoped he was going to say: "That's what it is," and there would have been an easy treatment. I even read something which said IVF chances increased to 50% with this treatment.

But my high antibodies are the ones which don't matter. The specialist said there is nothing wrong with me in that way at all.

Even if there had been, he said, it would have been a whole new issue, not connected to the AMH/FSH. It would not explain it, or suddenly make it treatable, but be an added thing which is wrong. We can obviously do without that, so it is good that my anti-bodies are the wrong ones.

Yet suddenly I feel like H, that this is all futile. Just when I persuaded him otherwise. I can't tell him. And nobody else will understand.

Confessions of a Tempee

In my current confusion I have found myself temping almost full time.

I haven't completely squashed ideas of freelancing or redirecting into another career but I have to take one step at a time and do what is right for the moment.

Obviously the money ain't great, and there are moments when I find myself stuffing envelopes and wondering how this came about. But on the whole I am loving it. Loving the freedom. Loving the 9-5. Loving the walking home unburdened at the end of the day, watching office politics from a distance.

Most of all I am loving dipping into lives I didn't know existed. Finding the world ripe with eccentricity. My current 'boss' in the marketing department of a snack food re-saler is Alan Partridge. Not a bad man, but definitely existing via a reality all of his own.

On my first day he self-importantly took me into a meeting room to tell me all about the company. He then got into a battle with his loud, rumbling stomach, which kept on interrupting his speech. Rather than smile at the situation, or even ignore it - he got angry. At every rumble he gave a dirty look downwards, shifting furiously in his chair. There was even some clearing of the throat to communicate his displeasure, as daggers flew from his eyes. I tried to smile reassuringly, but to no avail.

In the end he stabbed his hand into a box in the corner (presumably stock supposed to be sent somewhere) and pulled out a chocolate bar which he proceeded to eat.

Later in the day I heard him on the phone to someone responsible for a cigarette advert. "We need to move this line to the bottom somewhere," he said. "The one that says smoking can seriously damage blah blah blah. It is a bit negative, don't you think?"

Kindness of a Stranger

The last few months have been resplendent with tears. I still do not understand it all but it seems we are moving forward now with a few scars.

There have been many days of walking and crying alone. Turning up to friends doorsteps in that state stopped being helpful. It was a state of mind I needed to deal with on my own. Save seeing friends for when I wanted to have fun or chats or be in life again. I can maybe talk about some of the tears in retrospect but I don't want to be seen as the forever crying friend, or be the forever crying friend.

There was one stranger who entered my solo space, though, who I will never forget.

After a yoga class, on the way to see a friend for coffee, I walked down by the sea. Something about the wild waves, twinkling sun and families having picnics made this wave of anguish overcome me from nowhere. I was crippled up, and found myself hunched up on a doorstep not knowing how to stop it, how to move on.

She came up and said "breathe this!". She held out a small silver perfume bottle. "Breathe deeply," she said, "have a squirt of this."

Puzzled, I nodded. She squirted, I breathed. I cried. It was all repeated. I may or may not have smiled thank-you. She said, "Go down on the beach and throw stones into the water. Really throw them. Really hard."

I staggered down. Felt a bit of a fool. But threw those stones. And felt calmer.

I don't know if she saw me.

I had a nice, normal chat with my friend.

Hallelujah

We are finally making tentative steps forward. An appointment at the IVF clinic. Thank god.

It is not yours to bear

I love a bit of telly costume drama on a Sunday night. It makes me feel comforted and warm like a fluffy dressing gown in front of the fire.
There's always plenty of old-fashioned values about helping out your neighbour, people really loving each other no matter what and some words of wisdom to bring tears to your eyes.
The words of wisdom offered up last Sunday have been reverberating with me all week. A recluse hides away in his grief refusing help. A woman tries to force help upon him. "I cannot bear your isolation," she says.
"It is not yours to bear," he says.
When H slips into his moods of fury and depression and locks himself into the world he is in at the moment - there is nothing I can do to reach him. And I cannot bear it. And he won't let me in to try and help. He doesn't let anyone in.
I know I have been difficult to cope with over this infertility business. I know it has obsessed me and made me very emotional at times. I know I have lost a lot of the joy he fell in love with me for.
But it is not all about me. He is using me as an excuse. His withdrawing is about him as much as me. Him not being able to cope, being confused, being scared, whatever. I still truely believe he wants to do IVF really, just wants to hide away and wait until he is ready and can cope.
But time is running out. My periods are getting worse and worse and I am convinced I am heading towards early menopause and I am terrified.
We are getting on so much better now, we are tender with each other and kind. There has even been a bit of laughter - of fun. Just so long as we don't mention the unmentionable.
I can't bring it up again yet. We are still learning to enjoy each other again as well as battling flu symptoms and the daily tiredness of life in winter. Forcing the issue again might send us reeling back to square one again. Especially if I inadvertedly pick the wrong time.
But the longer it is left dangling the lesser chance I have of ever having that longed for baby in my arms. And him. The lesser chance he has of being the wonderful dad I know he longs to be.
There are times when I just cannot bear it. And surely it is mine to bear too.

Grrrrrrrr

A friend phoned me up this morning in tears. She has been trying for a baby for quite some time and been enviably serene about it all but may have reached breaking point.
Her sister just told her she was pregnant and she found herself upset. I think what she was most upset about was being upset. She didn't want to have that reaction, she didn't want to be like that. She was happy for her sister. But also felt like it was unfair. She was older and she had been trying for ages. And the reminder hurt.
I tried to tell her she was allowed those feelings but I don't think I got through.
It makes me very angry that it is considered so unacceptable to have such feelings that people like us end up feeling like we are horrible and mean on top of everything else.
Grrrrrrr.

Limbo-Land

Again it has been a long time since I wrote.
Things with H completely broke down and we went through a very black time when we could not reach each other or communicate in any way.
Things feel better now in the sense that we are laughing together again. Cuddling, talking, being a couple. But I still do not understand what happened or what it all means for the future. We have not addressed any of things that made things fall apart, they are still unaddressable and unbearable.
We have not talked about the 'plans' side of thing and I do not know whether we are going to do the IVF or not. I do not think I should even broach the subject at the moment. I know I shouldn't. I think it would make things explode again. I have to be patient. wait in Limbo-Land and start living for the now.
This is hard on my head. I want to there to be a plan. But it can't be forced. We have to concentrate on the moment and us and getting better together slowly.

I am drinking quite a lot of alcohol as well which makes things better in a way but also makes me feel guilty and in despair.

Waiting for the Magic Show to End

Last night I came back from seeing a friend and H was sleeptalking again. "I am waiting for the magic show to end," he said.
I seem to have got into the habit of seeing everything as a metaphor recently and this was no exception.
It has been a long time since I last wrote. Christmas has happened and our trip to Australia to see H's family and things have gone very bad between me and him. Espedcially last weekend, when we got back, our first chance to talk about things.
It all feels very bleak at the moment. Am not sure if we can stay together after the things said and done. If we can stay together am not sure if we are strong enough to do IVF again - it seems to be tearing us apart. He says the whole process has brought out the worst in both of us.
But saying goodbye to all that wrenches at my heart.

When we were in Australia we went to a forest one day where Tingle trees grow. Tingles are one of the biggest trees on the continent but have relatively small root systems and grow in shallow soils. A lot of them had chimneys, or blackened hollows caused by fire or insect/fungal attack. These gaping holes tend to grow as the Tingle grows, until some were a gaping void of space which the tree then depends upon. Not only was it impossible for these hallows to close up, but it was part of the fabric of the tree that they exist.
Again, the metaphors.