6. Eyes wide shut

Nothing’s going to hurt me with my eyes shut….

It is now week four since I began treatment. For a second,  it felt like a normal Monday morning when you dread the alarm going off and you just want that extra five minutes in bed. My stomach flipped, I was scared to open my eyes today. I couldn’t escape the reality of facing what was coming this week. I wanted to follow my usual routine, get up, eat my cereal, go to work and forget this ever happened. At the same time,  I didn’t want it to end.  It was too overwhelming to contemplate what happens when it’s all over?

I’m supposed to be relaxed throughout this process.  I must relax. Sit down, think of nothing, relax. Like hell I can!! I have been pumped full of hormones, my body has gone into shock and is so confused. It’s not a natural feeling. I felt like I had a task to complete and I couldn’t fail. The pressure was on, how could I relax?

I had been working full time over the last few weeks with a few scheduled afternoons off to attend my scans and appointments. I had been busy in work but it did take my mind off things. One of the questions I asked myself, well blamed myself for was not taking enough time off work for the whole process. Did I put myself under too much pressure and was I relaxed enough? Did I give myself a chance? I asked myself the same questions many times during the weeks that followed.

I was called in for the last scan and this would be the indication of what day the egg collection would be, if my body had responded accordingly!  I kept thinking of a chicken everytime the phrase ‘egg collection’ was used! Once again I was sitting in the waiting room (felt like I had moved in). It was all too much today, I sat there with tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t make eye contact with my husband, it was another one of those moments when there are no words. We held hands, that was enough. I hadn’t had the scan yet but I knew that towards the end my body hadn’t responded as expected to the treatment.

We sat together in the side room with Sue, as always she was cheery, smiling and positive! I had lots of follicles at the beginning of treatment but not many of them had come to fruition, they have to reach to a certain size to be viable for egg collection. One of those little buggers had grown and one was lagging behind. The others were lazy and stayed dormant. There were still no guarantees that there would be viable eggs in either of them. It was all too confusing, what was she trying to tell us? Usually they would not proceed with this amount, you would need to have definitely more than two, or three in some clinics.

Even though I knew and half expected this news, I felt such a failure. I could feel my body physically withering inside me, I instantly felt old and different, that was the worst feeling. I felt like I was on my own and wasn’t part of the gang. Such a sad feeling. I held back my tears and Sue put her hand on mine and said, it only takes one. We had to go home and wait for a call, the consultant had to look at the results and confirm if he was happy to proceed.

We drove home in silence, my husband was trying to stay positive as always but I could feel the anger welling up inside me. I started to make lunch when we got home, almost trying to get some normality back into the situation. My husband, although still trying to stay positive was confusing me by merely talking. I just wanted silence, I didn’t want to listen to anyone else, I just wanted quiet, peace and quiet. In that moment I lost it, I threw the plate across the room and screamed. It wasn’t an angry scream, it was a painful one. I collapsed in a hysterical heap, this continued for at least an hour until I felt physically sick. It stopped abruptly. It was a relief to let out in that hour what I had been bottling up for a long time.

I composed myself, hugged my husband and said if we can, I am going through with it. I don’t care about the money, we have to give it a chance. Like Sue said, it only takes one egg. I was exhausted when my phone rang but I was ready for the call, I took a deep breath and listened to Sue. The consultant was happy to go ahead but it was our choice.  She pointed out, amongst other things that we could have a 75% refund if we decided to stop the treatment.  I didn’t hesitate, I told Sue to expect us on the ward tomorrow at 8 o clock. I wiped my tears away, put the kettle on, cried some more and went to bed early.

It’s funny as Sue and another nurse, said how amazingly well we had both approached this and coped with the whole process. How calm I was, probably one of the calmest patients she had come across. We had the right attitude and had dealt with it so positively. I didn’t disagree with her, at times I did feel almost serene. I have always had a knack of literally switching off my feelings. I wasn’t calm, I wasn’t anything? Nice of her to say it though.

Egg collection day from the chicken had arrived. Finally some good news?

AJ X

 

 

5. Four weeks to become a Mum??

After my treatment had ended and my test was negative, I gathered all of my paperwork, notes and unused medication, put it away and closed the drawer. I had been given a magnified photo of my eggs, I spent hours looking at that picture. That went in the drawer too. At the time I thought, could this be the start of something special? I sent it to my Mum, I think she was going to put it in a book and start recording the journey of her grandchild. Maybe that was a mistake but I was so proud of my two eggs! It wasn’t long after that I threw it all away, everything, it meant nothing to me now. I wish I’d kept it because I can’t remember a lot of the process and I’d like to see my eggs again 😄 It feels strange as it wasn’t that long ago but you are in a weird robotic state, it feels like it happened to someone else?

If you had asked me at the time I could tell you how many follicles had grown and my FSH reading, the measurements of each one and how many on each ovary, my oestrogen levels and how many air bubbles I flicked out of the needle on day three! Your mind plays clever tricks on you, it can shut out certain parts of your life, hide them away. It can pick and choose what you remember and twist the memory until it is something you don’t recognise. I can hardly remember any of it now?

It felt like a long time to get going and start the treatment. Running alongside my appointments for blood tests and scans, my husband also had to wait for a procedure called PESA. In laymans terms (urban dictionary), this is a nice big needle going into ones testicles to get some of those swimmers. Now, I know men haven’t got a high pain threshold but I did feel for him having to go through this. Mind you, he played on it enough afterwards! This was a key part in the treatment and he came up trumps (not literally). My husband has super sperm! I think they actually referred to it by this name? I did contemplate buying him a personalised cape!

Before I started the treatment and collected my meds, I had to attend a class on the ward alongside seven other women. I didn’t know any of them and I didn’t recognise anyone from ‘The Waiting  Room’? We were all going through the same thing but no one spoke, just the usual glancing at each other and the making up of stories in my head! This class was a practice session to show you how to inject yourself with the necessary meds. We each had our own desk, a bit like school but worse! The desk was laid out for each individual with lots of needles, small glass bottles, water and a plastic pin cushion that was pink and made to look like skin which was then strapped around our legs. I found this all quite amusing, until I started to try and take in the enormity of this task, wait no, responsibility.  Basically, the onus is on you to get it right. Talk about pressure, so much to remember. Now listen, this bit is important. Make sure you flick each bottle, some liquid might be stuck in the top and you need to get it all in your needle,  30mls of one bottle to be drawn out with your needle and mixed with water and a funny little tablet thing in another bottle. Make sure the needle has no air bubbles when you are injecting yourself as this can cause blood clots! Don’t put the needle right in, just three quarters of the way at an angle. The same time twice a day, it is imperative it is at the same time. Really, I just thought I took a few tablets and the sperm got shoved in somewhere?

I left a bit shell shocked and made my way to the on site pharmacy. I handed the sheet over with my long list of required medication.  I took a seat and waited. A lady come bustling from behind the counter and past the crowds towards me and shouted, are you the lady who is waiting for the IVF medication, you need to go to the other pharmacy. So now everyone knows I am barren, thanks for that bitch face!!! Off I trundled to ‘the other’ pharmacy. I was handed two full carrier bags full of my medication and a sympathetic look. I felt like saying, it’s not even for me so don’t look at me like that. I have ten kids you know! Defensive, another feeling that materialised.

When we finally set a date to start it was November 2014, I had now turned forty two. I was going onto a short protocol, this is treatment over four weeks that included medication, injections and scans to monitor your progress. In a nutshell, they use medication to stimulate your ovaries to collect as many good eggs as possible, it is more technical and invasive than this and you are poked and prodded and scanned to see what you have to start off with and how you are responding to the medication. It is perfectly timed and your cycle is taken over and controlled from day one. I feel like I have watered it down but I could literally write three pages of how the treatment works and that would be condensed. It’s all very interesting at the time!

One thing I must make clear is the amazing support I received from all of the team. A fantastic job is done by all. I felt like I was the only woman in the world going through this and they made me feel like I was the most important patient they had ever had.

Women describe it as a roller coaster ride and it really is. You look for signs, try and read the body language of the nurses and the sonographer every time you come in for a scan or an appointment. You worry that you haven’t injected yourself properly or did I take my oestrogen tablet last night?  You go from sheer elation believing this can really happen, looking at baby clothes and picking cots and prams, to waking up in the dead of night feeling sick with worry and fear of it not being successful. You can’t say anything out loud in case it comes true or people think you are getting a bit ahead of yourself. I remember falling to my knees on occasions in despair just wanting someone to give me a sign. I dreamt during the treatment that I had a boy, I could see him and he was so real. Maybe this was a sign?

My treatment started out positive, took a nose dive and then peaked at the end. The day of egg collection has arrived. I had an indication of what to expect and it wasn’t great, well not as great as I had hoped but once again, about normal for my age. I couldn’t do anymore, they had thrown everything they had and more at me, the results were in…..

 

AJ x

 

 

 

4. Feeling the love ❤️

In the few days since I have started this blog, it turns out it is more of a story…and a long one at that! I didn’t realise I had so much to say on the subject but now I have opened up about it, I can’t stop!  It is the first time,  in a long time that I have felt passionate about anything. My spark had gone and I have been going through the motions of day to day life and not addressing this at all!

Don’t get me wrong, I have a great life and we are more fortunate than some. I have the best family and amazing friends and my husband has been supportive in every decision I have made, good and bad! He has two wonderful sons who I have bonded with and whilst I will never be their Mum, I am part of their lives and always will be. My husband, more than anyone has been by my side throughout this journey,  he played his part too and I don’t think I have given him enough credit for that. I have been pretty selfish with my thoughts and feelings, it has been all about me and my loss and the impact on my life. He has listened through my tears and put up with my tantrums and anger. Sometimes I sat in silence for hours,  I wanted to talk about it but the words wouldn’t come. I wanted to scream but silence followed.  My emotions were devoid. I lost interest in everything, I left my job after 10 yrs, I couldn’t bear the routine and the fact that everything was the same, but in fact, everything had changed. Leaving my job was a big decision, I suppose it was the only decision I felt I had any control of at the time?

On a lighter note, I have had lots of great feedback since I started. I didn’t expect anything from it, or at least I didn’t know what to expect? I am doing this for me and my sanity but if this has struck a chord with anyone, or they have enjoyed it and understood it, then I will carry on as I have lots more to say, explain, face and understand.

Thank you for reading and being part of this journey with me. I am feeling the love and turning a corner in my life.

AJ x

 

 

3.Dare I even let it enter my head?

We were told from the outset that we would have to pay for fertility treatment. I think most people assume your first attempt is free, not in our case. We didn’t fall into the NHS criteria, even though it would have been physically impossible for us to conceive naturally. We were outside the age group for this part of the UK. Some areas go up to the age of forty two, not Plymouth. We did get all of our blood tests free though and we had a lot!

Now we had the added pressure of financing the treatment. It wasn’t clear cut for me, I knew the odds were against us,  it sounds stupid, even selfish and greedy but £7k is a lot of money to get no return on. It would and did make a huge dent in our savings. Yes, it is only money but was I really at the point of wanting a baby that much to risk wiping out our savings for nothing? Yes, of course I was.

Sitting in the waiting room was very surreal, it was busy, a few couples and one lady sat opposite us. You start to make stories in your head about people and why they are here. We all sat glancing at each other, no one spoke, I think our eyes said it all. I felt bad as one couple were quite young, what is their story? Then again, they had something on their side that I didn’t, time. My biological clock was ticking away, I could hear the tick tock everyday! I thought about the woman sat on her own, she looked happy, had it already worked for her and was she here for her latest scan? I got annoyed,  she had done it, she could sit there looking smug! Poor woman, I’d ripped her to shreds already. These are feeling that were new to me, I didn’t do jealousy, I don’t understand it and I wasn’t born with that emotion, I just wasn’t. It has now surfaced and continued to do so for a long time. I hate it! ! Nevertheless, I was pleased that she looked older than me, I didn’t feel so bad now. If she can do it, so can I!

You may or may not notice, I refer to I and not we a lot. My husband was with me every step of the way but IVF is a very lonely journey, at least that’s how I felt, rightly or wrongly? It was my body, my journey and my feelings. I didn’t have time to consider how everyone else felt about this, I had to focus on me.

Leading up to the first consultation, I wanted to feel positive but I began to feel resentful. From the beginning, I blamed myself for being in this position. I had previously been in a long relationship and knew it wasn’t going anywhere. It took me a long time to make a decision to end it but nearly ten years of my life had gone. I was so angry with myself. I had now found my future husband, I was happy and I wanted to bring our baby into this world and now I have fight for it, no natural progression here. Robotic and clinical all the way!

When we met Sue, our IVF ward sister, she filled me with so much hope and told me to stay positive. I came out of our first consultation and skipped all the way home. It was all still a bit confusing, charts, indicators, timelines, medication and more questions than answers but I could see a tunnel, it was a dim light but I could definitely see a light at the end.  I started to read up about the treatment we would start, it was called ICSI.

‘Intra-cytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI) differs from conventional in vitro fertilisation (IVF) in that the embryologist selects a single sperm to be injected directly into an egg, instead of fertilisation taking place in a dish where many sperm are placed near an egg’

This was all a bit technical, I tried to break it all down into manageable chunks. I had waited so long for this. Now it’s here, it’s all moving so fast. I did have reservations about starting the treatment. Like anything new, it’s the fear of the unknown. I felt sick with worry and excitement.

The next step was telling people, I had to choose carefully when doing so. No disrespect to anyone but you need the right type of people around you when facing this. I told my close family and friends and my employer. The support I received was invaluable and much needed. Most times I was able to compose myself and talk through and explain things, sometimes I couldn’t look people in the eye, the words stuck in my throat, they still do.

I started a journey I could not stop, I had to at least try. Everything is in in place. I don’t like the answers to some, well most of my questions. No certainty, no guarantees. Fate is mentioned a lot, as is the word relax!!

Here we go then….

AJ x

 

2. IVF – Involuntary feelings?

So, I have started my story near the end of my journey. I am now thinking back to how I got to this point? How did I get to this point?  I will be forty four this year, okay that’s not the end of the world, but really, where has the time gone?

I didn’t grow up with rose tinted glasses thinking I would meet the man of my dreams,  get married, have two children and live happily ever after. I grew up not knowing what I want from my life, I still don’t know? I had no clear path? If I am honest (sorry hubby), it never crossed my mind to get married? Why? My parents have been married for over forty years, the thought of being with the same person for all that time flumaxed (urban dictionary) me? Just to add, getting married finally made me feel like I was part of something. It is one of the best things I have done in my life 🙂

Anyway, as always I have gone off on a tangent. Back to the IVF…..

The first ‘Doctor’ I spoke to dismissed my questions and concerns over my fertility and recommended I look in ‘Yellow Pages’ for private fertility treatment in my area.  On any other day I would have told HER she was an insensitive bitch and punched her lights out. Not today, I came home, cried for a bit and put my questions and concerns back In the box. Three months later, (aged 41),  I tried again. This day was the start of journey that made me question every part of my life and every decision I had made up until this point. Right day, right Doctor?

From this day on, my life changed. I found out things about my body I didn’t even know could happen or were possible? I am sure I passed Biology in school, why did I not know these things? I was constantly told, for your age group blah blah blah.  I was incensed, fascinated, deflated, elated, all at the same time. I know my own body, I know what it is capable of….don’t I?

The first blood test, AMH, Anti Mullerian Hormone (indicator of egg reserve).  We can thank the Americans for this one !  This is the first blow in the roller coaster that is IVF. A test to basically tell you that ‘according to your result and based on our charts’ you are too old to have a baby. All women of your age, worldwide, will basically get the same result and no one over the age of forty will ever get pregnant. Give up now.

I didn’t give up……

AJ x

 

 

 

 

 

 

1. It’s all about me!

So, before I tell you a little about myself, I’m more of a listener than a talker. I’m great at giving people advice, not so great at taking it. I am, at present, coming to terms with not being able to become a mother (in the sense of not ever giving birth). It’s not something that I want to discuss in person or bore people with by banging on about it. I’m not the first woman never to have children and I certainly won’t be the last. My issue is coming to terms with the fact that really I can’t explain why I can’t have children, other than the fact,  did I leave it too late? I’m pretty healthy, live a normal life with the usual day to day stresses that you face like, running a home, being a wife, working full time and so on.

I was offered counselling, not really my thing speaking to strangers about how I feel, you may find that contradictory if I am writing a blog but wiritng is my therapy and always has been. If I can get it on paper and explain things,  it all becomes logical to me. I am hoping by starting this blog I can start to understand my own feelings and emotions that I am beginning to face?

At the moment, nothing is making sense and it’s all a bit muddled up. Don’t worry, I am of sound mind and I still manage to function everyday! I still laugh, drink prosecco on the weekends (lots) book holidays, excel in my job, run a home. It’s like the devil on my shoulder at the moment and I need to work through this in a constructive and positive manner. This isn’t something I have planned ‘I think I’ll write a blog today’. I literally decided this morning when I woke up. I had the usual fuzzy head (not down to Prosecco), I stood in the shower and started to try and answer the questions I keep asking myself, trying to brush away the fear and the sadness of knowing I will never give birth. How can you mourn something you have never experienced or will ever experience?

I haven’t even thought of the implications of writing this blog as many of my close family and friends do not know the silent battle I am facing, the thing is I don’t want to fight it, or face it on my own anymore. I am going to continue to update my blog, it won’t all be doom and gloom as I intend to tell you more about myself and the positive things in my life, the funny stories I have to share and the wonderful people around me.

For reference. I refer to my husband at the time throughout this blog (now ex).

I am starting a new chapter in my life and this is the first step on an unknown journey and that is half the fun!

AJ x