Bodily shaking and baby making.

OH MY GOD. I would write this entire entry in capital letters if good grammatical sense wasn’t so deep rooted.

Just talked with the nurse. She said the woman I am donating eggs to is only five days behind me, period wise. She thinks that this means I can skip the extra month’s waiting and the birth control pill. What does this mean?

THAT I WOULD GO IN TOMORROW TO BEGIN TREATMENT. Wha

————

Okay. She called back.

My shaking body subsided with a proper crash: things are back to usual. I begin taking the pill when my period comes next week, go in to the clinic to run through everything with the nurse, and treatment begins. But there is STILL a bonus. They will begin ‘down-regulating’ me (this means switching off my normal hormones via injections) at day 14 or possibly even earlier!! Normally downregging begins on Day 17ish.

The nurse said her goal would be to have the entire treament cycle complete by the end of November/early December.

She also said that the woman who will be receiving my eggs is very, very excited. I just made the absolute switch from being unsure to feeling absolutely delighted about helping another woman conceive a child.

Part of me still feels crushed that things aren’t rolling tomorrow – and I feel upset as I’ve been calling the clinic all week as I suspected there might be a snowball’s chance in hell of sorting this out. If I was in the office alone I might cry, maybe? But on the other hand, I feel completely delighted, ecstatic, and hopeful that by the time Christmas is here I may be preggo with one or two eggos.

If the time span of 10 minutes can send me on this much of a high and low – not to mention TMD who was blasted from nowhere with a phone call saying we might begin trying tomorrow – I wonder what the rest of this journey will be like. I’m reading a good book now (the IVF one on my ‘baby books’ page – just started it this morning) and it says what a lot of things do: view IVF as a journey, not an instant fix. However, facts remain that most people have a successful pregnancy within three cycles of IVF.

Am I naive and too optimistic? I’d rather feel happy during this process than emotionally ripped apart. I think many women who end up at IVF have done just that – ended up there after months or years of trying other options. TMD and I have chosen to just fast forward through all that and START with IVF. I feel really solid about IVF. I really fucking hope it works first time, though.

If was was properly blurbing, I would be making incoherant panic sounds!!

Oh, God. Feeling a bit jittery this morning thanks to the sheer amount of stuff I need to do. I’m going to be co-facilitating group therapy for children soon, and setting up a group is more difficult than you might think: getting referrals, home visits, planning sessions. On top of that, my normal clinical work seems to be suddenly overflowing.

At work we also share thinking space with each other (just me and Green today), so that means that while I get the bonus of off-loading, I also take on the additional responsiblity of being off-loaded to. Joy is off sick and there have been about a million emergency phone calls re: quite serious stuff with clients, and now I feel slightly overwhelmed.

This is added to by the fact that I go to lunch in 30 minutes, and then am with clients or off site at meetings for the rest of the day. When am I supposed to make all these vip phone calls?

At any rate, I’ve now come and blurbed all this out here. Perhaps it will help me power through the next thirty minutes and be incredibly efficient.

I am also waiting for that call from the head nurse at the clinic, as well as planning for my nano novel. Busy times.

Number one on my wishlist…

I have been worrying lately that I’m too much of a worrier. Like my brain instantly jumps to The Worst Possible Outcome in any unknown or ambiguous situation. I’ve been reading Becoming a Mother and realising that everyone thinks they have cancer at some point, or just KNOWS a mysterious man will rape them on a dark street, etc.

So.

What prompted this? The clinic rang and left a message while I was in a clinical meeting. I rang back. The girl said they had the test results, and then put me on hold for ages. Of course I thought, ‘Oh Jesus, I’ve got a chromosomal fuck-up and they are discussing the best way to tell me.’ Turns out the girl was just new and didn’t know what she was doing.

End results: every. single. blood. test. (I think we’re talking about twenty!) is back and everything is a-okay. The head nurse is due to ring me back and discuss the treatment plan with me. This is it: it’s all real now. We are doing IVF.

I think this means I begin taking the pill when my vagina next emits The Blood, and then on day 17 I start forcing TMD to give me injections while I keep my eyes averted. Then I will bleed once more, then more shots, and ultrasounds, and blood tests, and egg harveting, and ICSI, and embryos being put back into Uterous Land. Phew. At that point I will pregnant until proven otherwise….and have an endless wait till I get a blood test confirming whether or not we are pregnant.

BABY TIME, people. Baby time.

Being helpful on a Tuesday morning.

Up on the right there, you’ll see a link called ‘baby related books.’ This is where I’m planning to keep track of the books I read that are relevant to this topic, including little blurbs that will help jog my memory. I welcome any suggestions of stuff you feel is worth reading!

I may do a therapy books section as well, although that would have to be a ‘best of the best’ type situation because I’ve read hundreds of the things. I imagine at some point the same will be true of ttc/pregnancy/baby books.

Therapy -> poop -> prunes -> baby

As much as I like the people I work with, sometimes it is a relief when they cancel. I have SO MUCH work to do, and now today has evened out to only having a clinical meeting – and then all my millions of phone calls, etc. I don’t do well with having to do too much.

Back to those prune brownies – I hadn’t really pooped since last Thursday, and then weighed myself this morning (thankfully I did drop some kids at the swimming pool after that). Yikes. I should clearly be an adherant to the Weight Watchers way of life. Feel like chocolate? Go for a twenty mile jog – it’s more fun than eating!

Yeah, yeah. Feed me another line of bullshit.

Regardless, I lost 59.5 pounds over the course of about 18 months. I’ve now managed to put back ON 16 pounds since June. Impressive, no? I think it’s a combination of working such long hours (short to normal people, long to me as Day Job was four years of slacking off), getting home late and therefore starving, and baby stuff. I fake pregnancy eat all the time.

I don’t want to lose all this weight because significant weight loss can impact on fertility. However, if I lost four teeny tiny pounds I would be the weight my fertility clinic thinks I am. In my crazy mind, they have prescribed meds for someone weighing four pounds less, so if I don’t manage to produce enough eggs it MUST be because the extra weight diluted the meds.

I just called them to ask if my final test results are back in. In case you are wondering, I’m at Day 18 of my cycle. This means I should bleed like a river in about ten days – and that’s when I want to start taking the birth control pill. I want clarity around what happens if the test results aren’t back in – because I want to pop those heterosexual pills when I get my period, tests or no tests. And if the tests come back saying I’m somehow screwed up DNA-wise, then I get off the pill. (And possibly have a nervous breakdown.)

The nurse is going to find out what’s happened with the tests, since I took them September 18. Even though I know I have given her my correct phone number to ring me back, The Crazy In Me keeps double-checking.

Okay. Hungry already.

Yummy (in my tummy).

When I was a child, I was quite mystical. I was drawn to rose quartz, fully believed in ghosts, and even had a ‘magic’ ring I believed I could control the weather with. I wanted to be a magician when I grew up. I walked alone for hours in the woods, along the beach, in the fields. Any weather, any time. I created stories and invisible others to people my life.

I had no trouble talking to my idea of God, no questions, no qualms.

I’m not that open to spirituality anymore, particularly anything that smacks of ‘crazy shit.’ I’m not sure why that is, although in sessions with Kleinette my distaste for my family’s extreme Catholic superstition came up again and again. I am simultaneously drawn to things…and repelled by them as well.

I feel embarassed to admit that I would like a little help from outside, a little magic to bolster me up a bit. I want to be able to believe in something, but the realist in me has squashed that. Now I think I look for things that just help me to believe in myself rather than an outside being. But I still like little charms, things that can be held and looked at.

With that in mind, I really want this: http://www.labelledame.com/fertility-jewelry.html I love the necklace, and also have a little shine for the bracelet. Do I believe this is a magic thing that will make me get pregnant sooner rather than later? Not really. But do I feel a constant low level of stress – good and bad – about this whole trying to conceive thing? Yes. And would I like something tangible to make me feel a little bit better, something I can touch and be reminded of how worthwhile this all is? Yes. Do I want to have a secret delight in making ‘public’ what we are trying to do, all the while shielding the real meaning of the charms to protect us? Double yes.

All our money is going to go to the actual process of making a baby – and me getting my fricking license. I found that fertility website a few days ago, during a google moment, and was led to it again today by another blog.

Yesterday the rose quartz heart necklace my mother bought me when I was 15/16 broke, and I miss it. I think I just need to feel like I am doing something to help a little baby into being, and if I’m so hungry for it that wearing a necklace or bracelet helps, so be it. I am declaring myself open to receiving the above things, in the hope that they somehow float into my life.

Cast away.

For the moment, I’ve decided that babychart.wordpress.com is too much fucking trouble. Back to Fertility Friend I go.

Truth is, since we’ve basically decided on IVF life has turned good again. I’m still taking my temp every morning and peeing on little ovulation sticks, but I’m not so fussed about the whole thing. I’m having some coffee at work and some Diet Coke at home.

I’m got more relaxed about my cervix (although it was SO LOW today it felt like it was trying to make a break for freedom). Everything seems easier and more normal, and I think that is because IVF takes the trouble out of conceiving. Don’t get me wrong – it adds injections and all sorts of IVF-y problems, but it makes me less fearful to take an allergy pill because they dry out your cervical fluid, and that is a sign of fertility.

I took an allergy pill last night and it was almost sensual it’s been so long since I had one.

I think IVF is the way I’ll feel most like myself, able to just live ordinary life – at least for the next month or two while we build up to it. And I think pregnancy is best and most likely when life is going on as per usual (assuming, of course, that life per usual doesn’t involve drugs/alcohol/bad things).

While gardening today I kept thinking, ‘Next year at this time there will be a little baby.’ I really hope that’s true. Or true times two.

Ever rising dips.

Well, I want to write about my conversation with Kleinette and what a fucked up backward coincidence it all was, but it feels like a private thing because I don’t want to spread her shit on the net. I know none of you even know her real name (and most don’t know mine!), but still.

It was (almost) enough that I called TMD to tell her about it. Funny how life works sometimes. Have not managed to sort a session, will ring her in a few weeks. I am feeling like the crisis has already resolved – for the minute, anyway.

Have spent time on some messageboards dealing with IVF. I found a thread that was a ten question thing for women who had conceived. There are almost 300 replies. I’ve read the first 35 pages, and the vast majority of women conceived in the first or second cycle. This has me feeling hopeful again.

I’ve booked an evening info session with another clinic in a few weeks time, just to compare and contrast. Our couples counselling session at OUR clinic is next week, my doctor’s appointment for blood test referrals is this week, hopefully I’ll get the bloods done on Friday morning. Things still seem to be ticking along very nicely.

I would really REALLY like to try in November. All the time off needed will be gross, but I am already taking a lot of time off when my mother is here, and I wonder if that will coincide with when I would need egg retrival and stuff. That would be too, too perfect.

Anyway.

I’m cheering up slightly. Don’t feel as heavy or as gloomy. And still want to write about my birthday!!

This time next year…

Feeling all mixed up – am I upset about donating eggs? IVF? Uncertainty? Postponing things?

My head feels very full and heavy, and my body is slow like molasses. I woke up this morning and the thoughts were immediately whizzing through my head – should I do this? Is this REALLY want I want? Am I the only one upset here?

This was after a night of IVF dreams. Busy, busy head.

I am making plans to go forward with IVF, one step at a time. Booked an appointment to see one of my normal doctors – the pregnancy friendly one. Hopefully I will be able to get her to refer me to blood testing – I need more comprehensive tests if I am to donate eggs to another woman. These are expensive tests, and if my doctor sorts it out they will be free. Cross your fingers for free and timely!!

I’m all over the place emotionally – just imagine how crazy I will be with IVF hormones. If you choose to read my diary during that time, you’d probably better invest in a sturdy seatbelt. I am also going to call Kleinette today. Just typing this I’m getting a little teary, so going to allow myself some time to settle into work before I scurry into another room and tell my ex-therapist I need to talk/cry/puzzle/laugh. Just one session, even.

TMD suggested it this morning, and I think it would be valuable. We have a couples session scheduled at the clinic in a couple of weeks time, but it is hard to think we will be able to relax and use the space productively. Particularly as part of this woman’s job is evaluating whether or not I am in a good head space to donate eggs and undergo IVF. I think of counselling as a non-judgmental safe space, and it’s hard to think of it as having some sort of evaluation attached to it.

Still, I know the way I am feeling and the conversations I’m having with TMD (which usually happen as we are on a walk and I am crying! Joy!) are perfectly normal and appropriate ways to be reacting to the stress of this situation. Finances are such a huge worry. I don’t want to feel that I donated eggs just to get the kickback of very cheap IVF!

How much am I willing to give up or put us through in order to have a child? I don’t know what my limits are, but I am scared I might find them.

Despite having a mild case of the crazies (and during the normally cheerful part of my cycle!), I feel really positive about the outcome of IVF. I’m young, healthy, fertile. Why SHOULDN’T I be one of the women who have successful implantation and pregnancy?

Hard to focus on work. Will no doubt be back here again throughout the day. I also still want to put down in words about the wonderful effort TMD made for my birthday.

Holding the faith.

Yesterday: untold stress, overwhelm, tears, then….a surprise birthday party! Had such a good time, relaxed, will write more about it tomorrow. Have relaxed today as well, but then back to thinking/reading about the things that stressed me yesterday, and am left feeling so tired and emotional. I keep thinking of ringing Kleinette and booking a one-off session, because I just need to have a good weep.

Our appointment at the fertility clinic was yesterday. We never expected IVF to be offered as a first treatment – they briefly explained all the options, and because we’ve never discussed IVF we went ahead with a more in-depth look at stimulated cycle IUI. I will write technical explanations when I don’t feel so fucked up.

At any rate, I think we are seriously considering IVF. If I am willing to donate half my eggs, I get the treatment at a hugely reduced cost – and the success rates are five times that of a natural cycle IUI. This makes IVF both more affordable and much more attractive as far as outcomes go.

I’m just overwhelmed by the idea of daily injections, suppositories, little egg-babies in a petri dish who don’t survive, little egg-babies in my womb who don’t burrow right into my uterine lining. I am in excellent health. I am not an infertile woman. All of my scans have been excellent, my hormone levels are kickin’, and there is always a chance I could conceive without going through IVF. But we only have enough money for three attempts.

IVF success rate at this clinic is 50-55%, and the consultant said because I’m so young it would be nearer to the 55% mark. I also have no reason to believe that I couldn’t support a pregnancy, as I am fertile – unlike many women who go through IVF.

Egg sharing means more tests to make sure I’m not carrying a freaky disease, which pushes the timeline back. I don’t think I mind.

Yesterday I felt so overwhelmed that when we left the clinic I started crying on the street and told TMD I don’t want to do this anymore – I just want to adopt.

I don’t know what the point of this entry is….venting, I suppose. Offloading. The sorts of things I would be saying to Kleinette if I was sitting on her couch. I don’t want to have to be logical. Logic tells me that we should definitely do IVF – and I am happy with that choice. Despite that, I still feel scared, upset, and confused.

All I/we wanted was a baby. I never thought when I was growing up that it would be this fucking involved. Babymaking is, inherantly, supposed to be an intimate act that brings pleasure. I suppose I am mourning the fact that TMD and I have to do it differently.

I just wish I could know it would work.

 

OH. I’ll tell you one more thing, though. Nichiren Buddhism talks about something called sancho shima. I won’t pretend to be incredibly philosophical, but merely say that this means that when you are about to make a very strong step in life, life invariably throws up obstacles. Getting to the clinic yesterday was unbelieveable. We almost missed the fucking appointment, perhaps more details later.

Anyway, I was chanting in my head – the first chanting I’ve done in ages – to arrive by 12. When we finally made it into the city and got on public transport, guess who sat down across from us? A woman reading a book about Nichiren Buddhism – which has NEVER happened before.

Perhaps this is me striving to make coincidence meaningful, but it felt pretty fucking profound, I can tell you. We also made it to the clinic exactly at 12.