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.

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.