The DR train

So, I’m back on the down regulation train. Good thing DR isn’t hideous and I hate it right? Right.

It all started in wonderfully traumatising style on Tuesday. I got up and did my injection – no problems with that – then in the afternoon I went into the clinic (I decided on Lister BTW) for a blood test for genetic karyotyping (I don’t know either), counselling and then an endo scratch. Waited 45 mins for the blood test (much longer than I ever waited with the NHS?!), then went into the counselling session.

DH and I had a session at Guy’s after our first failed cycle which we didn’t really find very helpful. The woman was annoying and just kept saying “and how does that make you feel?”…I know how it makes me feel lady – shit! Tell me how to not feel shit!

This time I went on my own and it was better. She obviously can’t make it all ok, and all the practical suggestions she had I already do, but I think it helped. We talked a bit about other options…about ‘looking over the edge’ of this never working which was weirdly helpful in a way….upsetting, but helpful. I have wonderful support in my mum and sister but whenever I mention my fears about it not working I’m hit with denial from them. As my mum always says “we’re not there yet”, and we’re not but I’m a project manager by trade. It’s my job to plan and I can’t stop my brain thinking of every eventuality. I’ve had 3 failed implantations. I’ve never been pregnant. My sister had 6 miscarriages. There is a very real possibility this is never going to happen for me. It breaks my heart to think of it but I have to.

We make ‘perfect embryos’ and because my womb looks ‘perfect’ but clearly isn’t – the only real options will be surrogacy or adoption (that’s a whole other post). I’ve had NK tests done at this new clinic and they’re putting me on steroids among other things but…well, I’m not full of hope. (As a side note: all those doing IVF check that your clinic does all the tests you’d need if using a surrogate. A friend had IVF a few years ago, had a baby and got some frosties. Now due to health issues she needs a surrogate to have another child and the HFEA are saying because she wasn’t tested for chlamydia and gonorrhoea she can’t use her frosties…better to have an iron clad plan B even if you don’t think you’ll need it.)

Anyway, I digress. After the counselling I was feeling rather emotional obviously and then had to wait for 45 mins for my endo scratch. Whilst waiting an ex-patient came in with her baby…she didn’t have an appointment, just came in to see the nurses. I understand you are grateful but…..THIS IS NOT OK….EVER…..EVER!! About 5 nurses gathered around the baby and cooed over it for 20mins, including the nurse who finally called me for my endo scratch. Couldn’t help but think that at least half the delay was due to cooing…did not help my mental state. Trying desperately not to cry whilst a fairly elderly, but kindly gentleman has his hands in your hooha is not what I’d choose as a fun activity on a Tuesday afternoon but the actual ‘scratch’ was quick and not too painful…less painful than the cooing.

The rest of my week was also fairly hideous as I was crazy busy at work, rushing home, cooking dinner for the three 15 year old dance students I had staying with me and then carrying on working until 11pm. And then repeat. Ugh.

At least I spent Saturday at an amazing Hindu wedding, in a saree which was brilliant if rather difficult to keep the saree in place! It was so much fun and so colourful but a long day and by Sunday I felt like I’d been run over by a bus. Ahh DR exhaustion, it’s been a while.

Daddy Dearest

It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve posted a ‘proper’ personal update. Don’t know why really, I got a bit like this last IVF round. On one hand there is so much going on in my head, so much to say; on the other hand I don’t really feel like saying anything because….well, none of its new*.

I’m still down-regging, although have also been taking the HRT drugs (Progynova) for 2 of the 4 weeks and since I’ve been on them I’ve felt a lot more normal. I have a scan on 31^st (which is also payday, and also more importantly #IFpumpkinsmackdown closing day!) to see if my lining is thick enough, and if it is we’ll probably go for transfer the next week. I go through various emotions about this ranging from numbness to fear to ever-so-occasionally excitement.

View from Ceremony Venue

Other than forever down-regging, I have actually been up to some pretty positive exciting stuff! I’ve booked my wedding! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What a crazy thing to do mid-IVF cycle I hear you cry. And yes, you would be right. It’s totally stupid. But I don’t care. We need something to look forward to that is DEFINATELY going to happen on the day we want it to happen. The last IVF BFN cemented in both our hearts that we just want to get married, and to hell with the practicalities so that is what we will do on 8^th October 2014.

So I booked the registrar, I booked the venue for the ceremony and the reception and was super happy and excited. Then I did a stupid thing. I emailed my father to tell him. I also gave him a quick update on how the IVF is going, how tough I’m finding it this time and how it all generally sucks.

Reception venue

I should know by now that my father’s main talent in life is doing or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. By now I should know that just because I would want him to respond by saying he was sorry it was so tough this time, and that he is happy we’ve set a date, it’s not the response I’m going to get. Instead the answer I got was basically how inconvenient it will be for him as my brother is getting married in Italy next year (in May) to have to come over from California twice in 1 year. Thanks Daddy dearest. Way to get excited.  

I’ve not really written about my father on this blog. I’m not sure why, since in many ways he was the reason I waited probably a few years longer than I would have otherwise to start trying for children. My parents got married when they were in their early twenties and emigrated from England to Canada. My Dad’s job then moved them to Texas which is where I was born. Nine months after I was born my parents split up and my mum moved us back to England and my Dad stayed in Texas. When we were little we used to go over to Texas every summer to visit (NB: small town Texas is not the place for a little girl to have fun summers). The rest of the year Dad would call once a week and we’d have very awkward conversations.

These days we speak on the phone probably 3 or 4 times a year, mostly initiated by me. It’s usually a fairly dull conversation dominated by his recent work contracts and the latest places he’s played golf. He forgets all our birthdays (including his grandkids) every year – sometimes we get a card a few weeks/months later, sometimes not. We usually see him once every 2 or 3 years but it’s now been 5 years since he’s been over.

 If ever you try to share anything emotional/important with him he gives an inappropriate and usually insensitive response. Eg when I first told him about our TTC struggles he said it was probably a good thing as with all this global warming etc the world was going to be hell in the future anyway.

I don’t know why but his inability to be a good father, his inability to genuinely care about his children and now grandchildren deeply upsets me. It always has. The only thing I really know about my father is that he just does not have the emotional capacity to give us anything else – the fact that he’s on his forth marriage is a sign of how good he is at relationships. Expecting him to be any better just hurts me again and again. I just don’t know how to stop wanting him to care, despite having an amazing mother and a wonderful step-father.

So when my ovaries started squeaking about wanting kids in my mid-late 20s I waited. I waited because I wanted to make absolutely sure this is what I wanted. I waited until I knew that I couldn’t ever imagine my life without children. Because I know what it’s like to be a child of someone who had kids because ‘that’s what you do’, rather than because he genuinely wanted to be a parent. I didn’t wait too long – just a few years until I was 30. But I didn’t know then that I have a crappy AMH and that really every year counts.

It’s not just him either. I know sooo many useless fathers (my sister and SIL’s ex’s to give 2 examples). It breaks my heart that DH would give anything to be a father and so many men just throw this gift away. I know it’s not only men, there are plenty of useless mothers out there too, but it’s useless fathers I have a speciality in!

Soooo I don’t really know where this post is/was going! It was supposed to be a positive one about my wedding, and ended up a fairly miserable one about my rubbish father! Which is actually a fairly good reflection of my mood at the mo – I try to keep positive, but somehow the negative creeps back in.

 

*despite having ‘nothing to say’ this has ended up a pretty long post!

Stressdigestion

So one week of down regulation drugs (suprecur) and so far, so good! I’ve been a little bit dizzy at times, and felt nauseous about once a day for an hour or so but other than that no major symptoms.

Except, that is for….stressdigestion…and yes, before you ask it is a thing! Since a few days before I started down regging I’ve had this tightness across my chest that I just can’t shake. It feels like indigestion but it isn’t because well, I never get indigestion, it’s not linked to anything I eat and I’ve had it for 10 days straight.

Nothing I do will shift it. Nothing. I’ve tried yoga. I’ve tried meditation. I’ve tried visualization. I’ve tried qigong FFS! No matter what I do it feels like I’ve got a fat man sat on my chest (hmmm best not linger on that mental image too long!). Having said that, the yoga etc. does make it ease for a while which adds further weight to the stressdigestion theory.

On the plus side, because of the stressdigestion (if I say it enough it will become a thing!) I don’t really feel hungry, which is very unlike me. So I’ve actually lost weight on these drugs, which is definitely not what I was expecting.

So all in all its been a good week, and I definitely haven’t been worrying that no symptoms means the drugs aren’t working, and I definitely haven’t checked this with Dr Google 3 times. That would be crazy right? Definitely. haven’t.

Drugs!

On Friday THE DRUGS turned up! I hadn’t really put much thought into what would turn up but I think I just expected only the down-regulation drugs but instead a massive box with all the drugs arrived.

Cue freakout. The second of the week (see last post for first!) The arrival of the drugs just made it all seem real and final and…. we’re doing this! We’re actually doing this. My little dream that I’ve tried to pretend I don’t have, that we will be one of those mythical couples (that everyone seems to know but you never seem to meet…hmmm….suspicious) that get pregnant just before they start IVF, is over. Weirdly, I had a dream on Friday night that I POAS and it was positive and I kept asking my friend if she could “definitely see two lines??” and remember thinking ‘oh and we were just about to have IVF’…but this will not be us and it made me lose it a bit, not helped by the fact that I was not doing any work at home working at home on my own all day.

So I did the only sane thing I could do to deal with a freak out when I can’t drink copious amounts of wine… I cooked. I roasted a chicken, made a big batch of chicken stock to freeze, made some egg and chicken muffins (great high protein breakfast and they keep for a good few days so can have them each morning), baked some banana muffins and did a moussaka for dinner. After all that (on top of food shopping and cleaning the house) I was too knackered to freak out and just accepted it’s happening! Acceptance through over cooking…I can recommend it!

On Saturday morning me, DH, my brother and his fiancé went to sushi school! It was great fun and a good way to take my mind off the approaching ‘jab day’. In hindsight, eating that much sushi is probably not a great idea (I ate about half this box)! I woke up at 5am on Sunday with a really bad tummy and was back to the loo every 15 mins for the next 3 hours (sorry, way TMI!) At about 8.30am I also threw up which got DH out of bed and anxious that this meant I was pregnant. Again, in hindsight it is clearly obviously that I had a bug and am not pregnant as:

a) when have I ever been pregnant?!

b) even if I was pregnant at CD 21 the embie would be just implanting and I would be nowhere near the puking stage!

But I wasn’t thinking straight and feeling woozy and DH was panicking that if I was pregnant what injecting buserelin into me would do to ‘the baby’… bless him. So I got onto Dr Google…useless… and then I got onto the twitter girls, who as ever were sensible and measured and reminded me I was being a doofus as:

a) CD 21 is too early to be sick

b) it would be fine to take the meds either way

So I banished DH from the room (his little sad disappointed face that we hadn’t been ‘saved before the final bell’ was too much to take), laid back and listened to my new IVF specific relaxation CD (Circle and Bloom – I’m liking it so far) and chilled the f*** out. Once suitably chilled I did my first shot and… it was ok! Had a little bubble under my skin but again after consulting twitter girls found out that I needed to ‘flick’ the air out first, which I did this morning and it all went perfectly. I’m a pro!

So whilst this weekend was not quite on par with my magical birthday weekend last week, and I did manage to have three freakouts in the space of 5 days, I’m still feeling in pretty good shape! And to look for the positives in this weekend:

a) I got out of going to DH’s family party on Saturday evening because…well, with his family there was no way an evening could go by without inappropriate comments being made (see previous posts on ‘Outlaws’!) and I did not want to wake up angry on Sunday morning (just pukey!)

b) I have been trying to shift the last few pounds to get down to the weight I wanted to be before starting treatment but my birthday celebrations had sabotaged that, but being ill put me back on track! (ok, not the healthiest attitude, but I’ve to salvage this weekend somehow!)