18 weeks

Just a quickie!

I'm getting several rows off people for being behind on my blogging, so this is my attempt to catch up. Briefly.

I'm back to having energy. Sort of. Back up to about 80% anyway. So that's great! I don't feel sick any more. Apart from this week after eating my lovely breakfast of avocado on toast with sweet chilli sauce and pepper. Who'd have thought?

I have a belly. An actual showing one, not the one that I could see before everyone else could. It's weird though, because the bigger I get, the more I look at myself and think I looked this big before. Body image is a strange thing. I love my bump though. I really do. It's all bump-ish, and there's a baby in there.

I can't believe I'm pregnant sometimes. I spent a long time, wondering if it would ever happen for me, and accepting the fact that it might not. But now I think I'm getting to feel little hombre move! I think. This doesn't sound good, but I think it feels like dread. Like when something really scary is happening and your stomach turns over. Well that's what it first felt like anyway. That and wind. Now I think I recognise it when I feel it, though it's still not that often. I'm hoping I might feel something on Friday when we go for our scan, so I can see it the same time I feel it.

We should be told on Friday if we're having a boy or a girl. We're very excited to find out. It'll will allow us to cut out 50% of the name choices too (hence cutting out 50% of the arguments). Not that we'll be sharing any name ideas. There are name stealers out there you know. And other people have babies. If I don't tell them and they don't tell us then we don't have to have any obligation thoughts, and who thought of it first thoughts. Yes, definately not sharing the name. How unusual for me to keep a thought to myself....

It'll be time to start thinking about what we need to buy for the baby soon. I don't know where to start! Shouldn't people let you try before you buy? With babies I mean. If I had one for a week or so, I'm sure I'd start to figure out what I need. Not that I'm offerering to babysit.

So I shall update you about the sex of hombre when we know. If it's a girl, will we have to stop calling it hombre?




PS The kids in school are really sweet, they regularly say things like "Morning Miss, Morning Hombre". Gotta love em.

12 week scan

Yesterday was our 12 week scan in the ante-natal unit at the hospital. First things first, it is so different to the IVF clinic. That was, well, rather clinical. It was perfunctory and very 1980s. In the new hospital there were trees and flowers and things painted on the walls. The chairs were set out in a big square, all facing inwards. It was like a therapy circle, a place where people weren't afraid to look each other in the eye and smile hello. There were beautiful photographs of newborns all over the walls, and lots of staff wandering round and chatting to everyone.

This was not a place a bad news.

I had woken up in tears, only managing to sleep the night before because I ate out with friends and was shattered by the time I got home. I was all of a panic and couldn't get a proper grip on beign positive. But as soon as we got there I felt pretty good, the atmosphere was just so..... expectant.

It was a busy place, where they gave you a private room for the ultrasound, but sometimes there were 3 couples in the same small room filling in forms and giving blood etc, because there was no reason to think anyone would need privacy.

The scan was beautiful. The last time we saw hombre, he (or she-we've just got in the habit of calling hombre he cos hombre is a boy "name") was just a little kidney bean with a little flashing spark for a heartbeat. Now hombre not only has all the working tiny bits of body, but he's moving like a right boogier. He must have his mother's rhythm. She started scanning and I was just so shocked. "Is his arm moving!?!?!?" I said, as the arm was blatantly flinging up and down, legs were kicking, head was turning left and right....
We saw a head, a tiny button nose, a butterfly brain, the spine, some ribs, fingers, toes, the whole kaboodle. I was just not expecting such an active baby to be in there. I've seen lots of people's ultrasound pictures, and I understood that it would be easier to see when it was moving, but I didn't know that it would be moving like a born baby. Stunning. I get the idea now that there's a baby in my womb.

That sounds pretty stupid I guess, but it's a baby. It's not a kidney bean, it's not (thankfully) an ex-kidney bean. This is going to happen. That is so scary to say, in case I jinx it, but I should be brave enough to say it now. My name is Jennie and I'm going to have a baby. Ha!

Unfortunately, I still spent almost the whole day yesterday crying. I don't know whether it's hormones, or relief, or frustrations, or all of the above. But happy news=day spent crying is just bl**dy annoying. Where was my day of happiness? I feel a bit robbed. But I feel better today. Maybe I'll even be able to share the happiness around a bit. I kind of p*ssed on my parents' parade yesterday by showing them the happy pictures then spending an hour sobbing to myself. What a cow. I'm a little less than impressed with myself at the moment. I'm walking around, spreading the misery wherever I go. I'd like to get a grip now please. I'd like to be a rational person and be happy and relaxed about this pregnancy.

So today is a new day. I'm gonna try to have a new attitude. Look forwards, feel good, allow others to celebrate around me - they are as pleased about this as hubby and I are, and I should let them feel excited too.

Here's hombre having a dance. If you look closely, there's a even a couple of Titanic handprint moments too...

The smallest club in the world.

OH and I are so hopeful. We are happy in the knowledge that this is on the way to happening. We are beginning to believe that we might be finally on the right path. But we are alone.

When we started this journey I felt like I knew hardly anyone in real life who had waited like I was waiting. I found support in a particular thread on a message board website I used a lot, and then later on twitter too. The infertile community online understood me. They knew how I felt when AF arrived. They knew that is was ok to feel jealous when a friend announced they were pregnant, and that I was still happy for them. They knew what to advise me about my first consultation at the fertility clinic and how to limit the pain of the HSG. They knew to tell me it was ok not to take any more of the psycho clomid tablets and that it wasn't letting the side down to allow myself a month or two off tryng for babies.
And, they knew how I only wanted to hear the details of pregnancy from my closest friends. I did not want to see a fb friend posting an ultrasound picture, I didn't want to guess the baby weight of a child that I know was conceived long after I started trying and I didn't really want to follow my twitter friends that became pregnant if their tweets were suddenly all about their pregnancy. It sounds awful to say out loud, but I know my tweeps would understand why I felt that way.

But now it's me. I'm the lucky one. I have questions and worries about pregnancy, and I know that my collection of online friends are still, for the great part, waiting for their turn. I don't want to make them feel the way that I felt so many times. I have exiled myself from the infertiles club - though that's where I feel my experiences place me. So I have tons of friends IRL that have been pregnant - do I turn to them? Well yes. And no. My pregnancy is different to those where the pregnancy was less hard fought for (not more/less important or less wanted- don't get me wrong) because in just over 3 years since hubby and I decided we were ready for a family I have had about 40 bad newses, and 1 big good news. I'm not used to things going smoothly. I'm used to needing painful tests, and injections, and mind altering hormones. I'm sure all expectant mothers are nervous, but there's a smaller number that have such a history of being told things by doctors with such serious faces.

So do I turn back online? I must be able to find plenty of ex-infertiles there? Well yes, but again I feel like most of the people there have suffered losses, disappointments and trials that I have been lucky enough to avoid. My IVF worked first time (if little hombre continues to stick) and I feel like I don't have the series of heartbreaks that they have had to group me with them.

So I feel like OH and I are in the smallest club in the world. My time with the infertiles has passed. Those who got pregnant on their own can't understand my neuroses. I imagine that most of those who had assisted conception will think that I've had it easy. So who's with me? Anyone? Anyone?

Anyone?

Today's torture....

We had our 7 week scan today.

It was torture. Our appointment was scheduled for 9:45, and we arrived at the hospital 10 minutes before, grabbed a quick cuppa and headed up to the clinic.

We have been quite wound up waiting for this confirmation of pregnancy and although it's only been 3 weeks since we got our BFP, it has felt like forever to us.

So we waited patiently. OH read cover to cover of a National Geographic magazine. I read cover to cover of today's Sun newspaper. One was really good, one was really crap. You guess which.

We watched everyone else in the clinic go in, even those who came after us. We watched many people come back out again and go about their day. Then our name was called. Yeay! when you are seeing the nurse, you move from the waiting room to the corridor outside the appointment rooms and you wait again.

So we waited again, sure that it wouldn't be long now. We read a Boots magazine, and a Mac Format magazine. And I started to get wound up. All this time waiting for a baby, and this would be what made it really real, or snatched it away from us and we were being made to wait.

I started to cry. Not a little quiet weep to myself, but a big,can't-hide-it sob. OH promptly got protective and went straight to find out what was going on. Nurse Doe-Eyes (who I think was from the Embryology department, not the clinic) took us into one of the appointment rooms and let me cry it out, apologising profusely. I may be going private, but this is still essentially an NHS clinic, they were understaffed, only one person there could do the scans and the couple before us had had bad news and needed extra time.

This explained to us what was going on, but did not offer much comfort. Soon we were called through and they were ready for us. We'd waited and hour and 10 minutes after our appointment time, and that last 45 minutes nearly did me in. Hubby especially.

He was bloody horrible to the scanning lady. He was worried about the scan, I'd freaked him out by crying and he was snarky as anything with the lovely lady. She didn't really know what to do with herself, love her. She'd just spent goodness knows how long comforting a broken hearted couple, just to come in to us - who were already upset and now having a go at her!

So down to business. The scan, in the end, took just 2 minutes. Hombre-o the embryo has indeed graduated to a full foetus. It is now a whole 11mm from head to rump (I think that's where they measure) which is the right size for a 7 weeker. Hombre had a heartbeat we could see twinkling on the screen and we are now, ourselves, graduates from the clinic. We need to go tell our GP that we are pregnant, get a midwife, get referred to the local hospital and wait for a 12 week scan.

Just like a normal person.

I am not a big fat faker I am not a big fat faker I am not a big fat faker I am not a big fat faker.

We really are pregnant, and things are just starting to look ok. This is a big hurdle that we have flown over, and I really hope everything will be plain sailing from here. Yeay!!!

PS. I did NOT get what I expected when I did an image search for hombre.

D-day. Otherwise known as POAS day.

So, as most of you already know, We got our BFP!

Warning: I talk about pee here. More than a normal person should.

The night before POAS day was pretty much spent not talking about it. Too scary. I think hubby understood that I was too freaked out, and talking wasn't actually going to ease that. So he read me to sleep (as he does whenever I'm wound up) and I dropped off without too much trouble. I guess it's an advantage of working so hard on the new house. I woke up once in the night and managed to go back to sleep. Then I woke up again at 5.30a.m. and needed to go to the loo. I knew I would need to use my morning wee for the test, so I just lay there for a while. Quietly freaking out on my own. Eventually my stirring (and humphing) woke up OH.

When it came down to it, I didn't want to do the test. I was so aware that it could be negative that I didn't want to do it. Without the test I at least still had hope. The test would possibly take that away from me and leave me with nothing. Just with a hole in my parents' bank account. So after much grumping, and when I couldn't hold the pee in any more, hubby agreed that if I went and poas, I could just hand it to him and he would be brave and look at what it said.
I feel I should point out here that I had one of those swish pregnancy tests. not pregnant. pregnant. And I'd not had one of those before. Mine were always 5 for £3.80 from accessdiagnostics.co.uk because I went through them like fun. But, of course, it wasn't fun.

So anyway, back to the main event. After all that I thought I was busting to go to the loo, when it came down to it I was worried I didn't have enough. But we did. And before I could stand up and hand it to OH, it was already flashing pregnant. I panicked. I thought I'd broken it. The little egg timer was flashing and all I could think was, does one word come up before the other?
pregnant.......not! Was I meant to not look until the full three minutes were up? I was just stunned. In a complete state. OH saw the little egg timer stop, and 2-3 weeks appeared. Very accurate, clearblue, very accuarate. We did another test. Well, OH did it with the little bit I'd managed to catch in a pee pot. That's love that is. It had 2 pink lines. Bingo.

So we started to believe it. A bit. We rang our parents, texted my bro and SIL (away on holiday), spoke to our closest friends, posted it on fb (as you do) and went back to sleep, exhausted with the excitement.

Now I'm in the tricky place of realising that I've got what I wanted, and it isn't enough. We're pregnant. I'm now at the point I longed to be at, having the same chances as all the fertiles in the world. And I know we're not there yet. Now I want my 6 week scan to be good. And the 12 week scan, and OMG, I'm going to never be able to relax again. What was I thinking?!? Fertiles lose babies all the time. Babies are born ill, kids are nothing but trouble, teenagers are worse and what if I have to watch my grown up kid go through all this in the future?

Why on earth did I think that this would make me feel like I had achieved my goal? That was naive...

Long Time No Blog.

I've realised I've not blogged for about a fortnight (which is FOREVER at the moment) so I thought I'd catch you all up quickly.

Egg collection was fine. A bit weird though. I was very nervous and got myself a little wound up. I even got hubby's birth date wrong (he wasn't very impressed). We met various nurses and embryologists and the like - every one of them was very sweet, friendly and patient. The best people in the world. WE had various surveys and things to fill in which was quite funny. "Do you see your embryo as a chance for a future baby?" Yes. "Are you nervous?" Yes. "Do you already think of your embryo as part of your family?" Uh, no! (Cuckoooooooo).
So OH went and did his part. Successfully. Well done dear. Then I went on in for the EC on my own while he went to pick up my prescription.
EC consisted of about 6 people wandering round me while I had my bits up in the air. But, to be fair, that stirruped chair was really comfy. I might get me one of those. Or not. So they gave me the drugs (in an IV thing in my arm - I was expecting it up my bottom, this was preferable!) and I remember telling Nurse Latin on my right that I didn't feel anything happening with the drugs. I think this was because I remember being given the anaesthetic for my op in November, and it all hit me in a bout 3 seconds (I remember saying 'Oooh, there's the woozy') but this took longer - probably a minute or 2.
So I didn't go woozy, I just suddenly don't remember chunks of time. I blinked and all of a sudden there was this sensation of a stapler being hit. Yes, in my lady parts. Nurse Latin was brilliant, she explained that that was the needle going through my vaginal wall (I didn't feel any pain, just that stapler sensation), gave me some more drugs and off I went again. I must have come round about 3 times, and each time Nurse Latin explained what was happening and topped up my dosage.
Apparently they took me back to the recovery room sat up in a wheelchair, I called out to OH that I was there and that it hadn't hurt, they stood me up, walked me to the recliner, sat me in it, reclined me and let me go back to sleep. I say apparently as I don't remember any of that. I also had conversations with hubby, passed out in the middle of a sentence, woke up half our later and carried on where I left off. Them was some gooooooood drugs. After a while I came round properly, had a sandwich and went home. There weren't any nasty after effects or anything, a couple of twinges, another nap and I was fine.

We had 8 eggs harvested, 7 were mature enough to inject, 1 didn't fertilise, 2 fertilised abnormally and 4 fertilised well. By transfer day, 1 of those 4 looked a bit dodgy so we had 3 good embryos. OH and I hadn't been sure how many embryos we wanted to transfer back in, but when we realised we had 3 it felt right to put 1 back in and freeze 2 for if we need them in the future.

Transfer was really simple except for the fact that my bladder is crazy. But hey, I learned the new skill of letting out a bit of pee then stopping. It turns out I can let out an eggcupful or a mugful and stop. And still have plenty left over for my "clear window". The catheter they put past my cervix was so small I couldn't even feel it. Less uncomfortable than a smear, definitely the easiest part of the whole process. Hubby and I got to see our actual embryo, then they brought it in, we saw the little squirt on the ultrasound (hubby swears it was a "spark") as it was put into my womb and then we were just sent home.

It is so hard, after being (by necessity) so controlling throughout this whole process about what time drugs are injected, how warm the drugs are, how much to inject etc, to just put the embryo in and hope nature makes it stick. Nature hasn't done so well for us so far, and to be honest, I'm not sure I trust that Mother Nature has been paying much attention our way.

Since then OH and I have moved house. This is always going to be a stressful experience. We tried to minimise the stress as much as possible, we paid for movers and enlisted friends and family to help, but the stress has kept coming. Mainly from our solicitor, who I do not recommend. At all. We've been in the house 2 days and she has now rung us to say, oops, the money SHE told us we needed to pay was actually £500 short. But at the moment she's not sure why. Righto lady, you send us those details and we'll figure out what to do with them. I know what my first instinct is...

POAS day is coming up. We're actually going to test a day earlier than the clinic has recommended, as that day is the day of my husband's 30th birthday party. If it's bad news, hopefully a day to cry will be enough for us to still enjoy his party. It's so horrible how unrelated areas of your life get affected by waiting round to get pregnant. I really want hubby to enjoy his birthday party, but I feel like I've been letting him down because we've got so much on. Hopefully our stick will give us good news, and it can be an amazing birthday present. Honestly, with all the things we've been doing, not only is this holiday sneaking past us, but POAS day is almost here and I haven't considered my feelings. I am possibly about to have a big fall on my face that I'm not prepared for...

Egg Collection

So egg collection was yesterday. I was really nervous about what it would be like. For those who don't know what it entails, the ultrasound wand thingy (or dildocam as Ali calls it) goes up as usual, then a needle (somehow) comes out of the end, goes through your vaginal wall and finds the ovaries just on the other side, picks up the eggies and retreats. During this procedure you are sedated, but not unconscious, as they like to be able to ask you to move etc when they need you to.

So anyway I was nervous, really nervous. My bad experience with the HSG has shown me that my pain threshold is not infinitely high like I previously thought it was, and things can hurt me more than I can stand. I was expecting suppository drugs, as I know others have had them this way, but I had an IV instead. I guess that is so they can control the amount of drugs in my system at a time.
There were 6 of us ladies in the recovery room (a room with lots of curtains and 6 reclining chairs - not much else) and Nurse Frantic, who was, as you may have guessed, entirely frantic. I found it amazing that after all it has taken us to get this far, there were still 6 of us going through it in one morning. There must be so many people who suffer like we have suffered...
OH did his part, we met the embryologists, covered up my hair and feet (all I could think was that the little feet covers were what the murderers wore on The Silence) and I left hubby and headed in to the room. I was aware of very little of the procedure really. It was funny, because They put the drugs in and I remember telling them all that I didn't feel anything yet and the drugs weren't doing anything. The next second (or so it seemed) I was jumping out of my skin because there was this sensation of them punching through my vaginal wall. It didn't hurt, it kind of made me think of hitting down on a stapler. A big noise, a feeling, but not pain. I came around a few times when something particularly uncomfortable was done, but the lady on my right was always talking to me when I was aware, telling me what was happening and putting more drugs in my system. The whole thing was just fine. I've had some twinges since, but I haven't really needed any tablets (I got myself co-codemol in preparation) and a hot water bottle has done me fine. I love hot water bottles. You know it's bad if a hot water bottle can't sort you out.

So I am completely relieved. I also slept fine last night, so that was another relief.

We've had a phonecall this morning from the embryologist. The results thus far are in! They collected 8 eggs, 1 of which ws not mature enough to bother with. 7 were injected directly with a single sperm. 1 of those didn't fertilise at all, 2 fertilised abnormally. So we are left with 4 good embryos. They have booked us in for embryo transfer on Thursday morning. I was expecting to feel elated at this point, but I don't. Lots of the tweeps online feel disappointed when they learn how many embryos they have, and I do too. I know 4 is a decent number. I know you only need 1, but I now think I'm unlikely to have any to freeze, and that makes it all feel very all or nothing. Which is a scary position to be in. Let's face it, the whole thing is pertrifying.

Oh, and now I'm on progesterone suppositories too. Great fun. I put them in and I'm petrified to break wind, in case it comes out and I suddenly can't have this baby. Great. Way to mess with my head.