9. Every end is a new beginning.

Tomorrow came, then the next day and every other day after that arrived as normal. Everyday was the same for me for a long time. What I should have been feeling was pain, loss, sorrow, anger, confusion, jealousy and lots of other emotions? Or so they say.  What I actually felt was emptiness, nothing. How can you feel nothing?

I was offered counselling when I attended my last appointment. You talk about the treatment and they tell you everything went as planned but no guarantees are offered. I know that, so what was the point in going over old ground again and again. It was done, dusted and over. I wanted some normality back in my life so I carried on as normal but I didn’t feel the same, I felt different. I didn’t look or act different but I somehow felt different.

A date I do remember is Wednesday the 23rd of December 2015. I was invited to a 50th birthday party and it was fancy dress. I didn’t drink that night but I got into the spirit and dressed up along with everyone else and we had a great night. I drove my friend home afterwards, she asked me in for a cup of tea. I declined but she insisted. For the next two hours I could barely speak through my tears, for some reason this was the time I felt I could talk. It came out of nowhere, I didn’t plan it? I don’t think I had realised or at least acknowledged how utterly miserable I was and how much I was struggling.

i kept everything locked inside for a long time. I still wouldn’t accept counselling today if it was offered, I have always self counselled. It may not be the right way to do things but it’s the way I do things. It may take time but I’ll always come back fighting, harder and stronger that’s who I am. I have my parents to thank for that.

I want to thank my husband, family and friends for all the amazing support I received and have received since I started treatment. I realise this wasn’t just my journey, all of the important people who I love were on this journey with me. A light has been switched back on and I have started to enjoy my life and look forward rather than back. A big part of this was leaving my job, something I had wanted to do for a long time but worried about financial security and trusting my own capabilities. I have faced many things in my life and I am still here. I am learning to live with it, just like you learn to live with all adversities you face in your life. I feel excited about the future and we will be look at other options when we are both ready.

Writing this blog (or story) has really helped me personally and let me clear my mind of everything I was feeling. I wrote this for me but I have realised since,  it has reached many people, in many different ways. I am glad it has helped some people to understand or come to terms a bit with their own infertility fears and feelings. The feedback I have received  has been heartbreaking at times but more importantly positive. People have said ‘never give up’. If you know me, you will know I never give up on anything, I am starting another new and exciting chapter in my life.

Turn your own page and start to create new memories.

AJ X

 

 

8. Where is my stork?

 

I remember when I was a child wondering where babies came from? I used to think I would wake up one morning and my baby would be sitting on the end of the bed, waiting. A bit like Christmas Day when lovely things just appeared. I knew my belly would get bigger because babies grew inside your belly. That was fine though as it would go down again.  I was very young and innocent when I thought this! I can’t say if I was maternal when I was younger? Caring yes but maternal, I’m not sure? Is caring and being maternal the same thing? I used to drag my dolls around by the hair, my Mum gave up buying them for me. I much preferred my teddys.

Everyone always said, you would make a great Mum, you deserve it. I don’t deserve it, I want it? I know I’d make a good Mum, it doesn’t mean it’s  going to happen though does it. I know people meant well but sometimes I wanted to scream at them. I want to carry on my legacy. I want someone to need me, look up to me, be part of me, call out for me in the middle of the night. That’s the bit that’s missing, that’s the bit that hurts.

I look a lot like both of my Aunties on different sides of the family, at different stages in my life. I remind my Dad of his Sister so much, we both have that ruthless streak once we start.  My niece is a mini me with her personality and definitely her sense of humour.   I look at my husbands two boys and how much they are both like him in different ways. I love it when you see a picture of little ones and the parents look exactly like them at the same age. I’ll never have that, I’ll have no one to remind me of me. Who will talk about me when I’m gone? There will be no part of me to carry on or remember?

It felt like I had waited all my life for this phone call. My hand was physically shaking when I answered and my mouth was dry. I could feel my heart beating in my throat, that’s the exact moment I knew I was going to be heart broken if this didn’t work and a rush of fear shot through me like lightning. It was another moment when I wanted to go back to the beginning and forget ever starting this process.

I was in a dazed state, I couldn’t quite take in what she was saying. My golden eggs had survived and were doing exactly what they are supposed to. I was told to come back in the following day and they would be put back in their rightful place. I felt an ache and I was desperate to have them back, they needed me, they needed to be home.

The next two hours passed quickly in excited calls, husband first,  then the parents and my close friends. Everyone had been waiting and the responses were thick and fast. Well done, told you so, I’ve got a good feeling, you only need one good egg and on it went. I felt positive and started to believe this was going to happen. It was the right time and everything was falling into place.

Right, back to looking at prams. I hadn’t changed my mind, I still wanted the same pram I had seen a friend with and now I was price matching on different websites!

The procedure to put my golden eggs back in didn’t need an anesthetic and was quicker than the retrieval. I was a bit dissapointed about this as it was precious cargo and I wanted to make sure they were stored correctly. Hubby stayed on the ward while I went in, I was back within 10 minutes. Is that it, no grand ceremony for the homecoming? I felt a bit deflated and nervous that they hadn’t inserted a plug, what if the eggs fell out when I stood up? I was told to go home and rest for a few days, don’t over exert myself and carry on as normal. Carry on as normal? I can’t even pee. Well, I could but didn’t want to in case they decided to slip out. It’s a natural feeling, although impossible for it to happen due to the nature of where they were now resting! I had a little vision in my head of them snuggled up under a duvet, comfy and warm. That’s what I done when I got home, snuggled under my duvet. I went straight to bed to give them a chance to settle in. I was scared to move!

So, the two week wait begins. I think I saw every minute of everyday for two weeks. You try to carry on as normal but it is, was,  impossible. It became a daily routine of obsessive behaviour, every ache, cramp and pain was a sign. I googled whatever it was,  whenever it happened. I joined chats and forums of women who were going through it at the same time or had been through it. I had incredible highs and intense dreams but the lows were low and almost unbearable. I took to patting my stomach quite a lot and talking to it, like you talk to a plant when you want it to grow. I done everything I could to encourage my little babies.

I was back in work and still had a week to go. A few people knew so when I disappeared to the toliets and came back looking like a panda, they didn’t look my way for fear of setting me off again.  Others looked warily and probably thought ‘she’s at that hormonal stage in her life’,  steer clear!  I functioned day to day but I don’t know how? My husband looked after me and wouldn’t let me exert myself. It was a great excuse not to do any cleaning or ironing and for once, I didn’t feel guilty everytime I looked at the growing pile of clothes. This would be my life from here on in anyway so I’ll get used to it now. I won’t have time to do the ironing when I’m a Mum.

I was told not to test early as the result wouldn’t be definite so best to wait until the actual day. Yeah right, I’d bought four tests and I was going to use all of them! I decided to test a day early, who wouldn’t? I’d had different symptoms over the last two weeks and scrutinised and discussed every single one of them until I was Blue in the face. You just want someone to give you answers, not one hundred reasons why this could be happening. Why can’t someone just tell me it’s all going to be fine?  Nothing major had occurred,  I hadn’t lost any blood so that was good, I knew my eggs were still at home.

I’m annoyed to say I can’t even remember the date I first tested. Why would I though?  It wasn’t significant and besides I had wiped it all from my memory. I woke up at 4 o clock and held on until 5 o clock. I knew my husband was awake but we said nothing. I ran into the bathroom quickly and left hubby in bed. I done the test so quick, almost too quick and closed my eyes. I opened them quickly again, nothing was happening, no plus sign just a single Blue line. I should have listened, it was too early to test. I got back in bed, I didn’t react I just said, it’s negative.

I had to go to work. I was on the brink of collapsing in a heap but I started my usual routine, drove to work, walked across the car park like every other day and sat at my desk. I would test again tomorrow when I was supposed to and everything would be okay. It had to be.

 

AJ X

 

 

 

 

7. How would you like your eggs?

 

 

Egg collection day was one of the most positive times during the treatment. I didn’t know what the outcome would be, no one did but nevertheless, I woke up in a positive mood. I was hungry too,  I hadn’t eaten for twelve hours in preparation for the anesthetic  The little stories in my head (that I so often make up) had started again. I had been talking to my follicles and willing them to come good. I kept patting my tummy, almost like I was already pregnant, telling them it would be okay, everything would be fine. I imagined them wrapped up warm and snuggled in, happily growing. I dreamt of a giant golden egg being presented to me with a red bow around it, then I thought of chocolate and I was hungry again.

I was told to arrive with no perfume, deodorants or make up on and nails clear of varnish. This was a serious procedure so when I arrived on the ward, I had followed all of the instructions, well sort of. The young trainee nurse took us into room with a few beds, I was the only person in the room today so I had it all to myself. I wouldn’t have minded if the other beds were occupied but I was happy that it was quiet and relaxed. Husband was with me,  as always. I know I don’t mention him much but as I have previously said, this was always my thing, my journey. Looking back it was a pretty selfish way to think but also self preservation. I couldn’t deal with anyone else’s feelings. It was all about me.

I felt really happy today and I was taking it all in my stride, even when I was told off by the older nurse for wearing tinted moisturiser on my face! I found this hilarious and I laughed along with the younger nurse who said I was causing trouble. I was taking it seriously but I have never been one to follow the rules, I always had to break one of them! It was even funnier when my husband had to get changed into scrubs and his trousers were halfway up his legs. The white clogs and hair net that accompanied the outfit suited him. It was all of the little distractions that kept me sane.

I was prepped and ready to go. I walked into theatre, Sue was there. I was glad, she was so experienced and knew just what to say to make you feel at ease. The consultant came in followed by a student nurse and then the anetheisist.  I was lying there in all my glory for all to see. Hunt the egg came to mind. My husband was nearby and I was calm. The room was a busy hive of activity and we were all in quite close proximity. I knew what the procedure entailed and I knew it wouldn’t take too long. I was relaxed and ready to meet my golden egg. A screen was positioned to next to me so I could see every move. I was determined to stay awake throughout it, my husband said I fell sleep for a bit but I swore I never! I remember a hatch opening to the side and my husband cracking a joke about tea and sandwiches being served. It was actually the embryologist on stand by for my golden egg. I was in a bit of a daze but I do recall my husband patting me on the head and someone saying two. Before I knew it I was back on the ward, I was half asleep but started to wake up. I felt groggy and my eyes wouldn’t focus properly. I couldn’t mistake the smile on hubbys face though.

Well I never,  I had two golden eggs!! The bugger that was lagging behind had caught up and both eggs were deemed viable. Sue was so excited and couldn’t wait to rush in to tell us, another nurse who had been present at one of our previous appointments said ‘I’m so glad you went through with this as it just proves you never know what the outcome will be’. She was right, we didn’t expect this. I wasn’t even sure they would get one, never mind two. I sipped my tea and started to daydream.

This drive home was different to yesterday’s. Laughter, smiles, positivity, thinking of what prams I would like. A friend of a friend had a great pram when her first baby arrived and I wanted the same pram. I’d bought a bigger car, I’d easily get the pram in and the car seat would fit perfectly. I’d get the seat fitted properly, I’d be too worried otherwise. I thought about showing my baby off and how happy I and everyone else would be. Just let me dream for a minute, go away negative thoughts.  Don’t  burst my bubble, please.

The embryologist had told us both eggs were good quality, the larger one was the better grade but we coildnt have asked for anything better. For my age range, they would only implant a maximum of three eggs anyway so two out of three was perfect for me. A new story was developing and I felt positive about the next page in the book. It did feel strange to think I had left my eggs behind but I was sure they were safe and in good hands. Anyway, I had a photo of my eggs to moon over until I get my babies back. Two golden eggs!

The next stage is the science bit, super sperm is injected into each egg and they are closely monitored over the next twelve hours to make sure they survive and enter the expected phase. It’s a bit more technical than this but they will pin point the exact day when the embryos (my golden eggs) need to be transferred back.

I had to sit tight and wait for a call the following morning from the embryologist to see how everything had developed and if my eggs could be transferred back (brought back home). My OCD had kicked in now, it does when you feel stressed and under pressure. I was thinking of the most ridiculous scenarios. If I pick the bit of fluff up from the carpet it will work, if I don’t, it’s my fault and I’ll never forgive myself for leaving the fluff on the floor. If I don’t wash this cup now, that’s it, it’s all over. I realise now it was all very irrational but I had no control over the outcome. I had control over picking the fluff up so I picked all the fluff I could find and put it in the bin. Phew, that feels better already. Back to sitting tight!

I was home alone the next day. Hubby had to go to work, it was for the best as I needed time to gather my thoughts and I wouldn’t be called back in today. I had to wait for my phone call and I wasn’t sure when that would be. As it happened, it was 08.25am, my heart stopped when the phone rang.

AJ X