Journey of Hope

New chapter, new blog

2011-07-24T16:25:00.004+01:00

When I started this blog it was to help me through a difficult time in my life. It has been a prop, a sounding board and a great source of support. Thank you so much to my followers and commenters, every word you have written has meant a great deal to me.

But now I am in such a different place. Our second daughter is safely here and we are all facing big changes, not least moving to a new county. I have decided to start a new blog to mark this fresh start. I may come back and write here again in future but for the time being I am going to stop posting here.

I won't refer to this blog in my new one to keep this content separate from the next chapter. But I am very happy for anyone here to follow our ongoing story.

So for the next instalments, please click over to the new blog here.

Best of luck to those still on their infertility journey. However your story ends, I wish you peace.

Saying goodbye to Maria

2011-07-20T12:11:00.003+01:00

This morning I had my final follow up session with my therapist, Maria. It's been several weeks since our last session and they have been pretty eventful!

We discussed how the last few weeks have gone, what techniques I have used to manage my worries and how I'm feeling about various aspects of the future. It was easy to see how much my reactions to anxiety have changed over the last year.

I spoke about lots of topics and saw how I am now able to take a step back and introduce a degree of rationality into my worries as a first step to breaking them down. When I feel under pressure now I always ask myself, "Who is making you do this?" Sure enough, most of the time it's only me.

The most striking difference is how I feel about Abigail. She's no longer a precious object I'm sure I'm going to break or lose. I see her as her own person with a real future, not just the baby she is today but the child she will be and the amazing woman we believe she will become.

I haven't changed who I am. I still worry about things and feel driven to be as perfect as I can. I dislike asking for help and giving other people control over things in my life. But I can now balance this to ensure I don't burn out or fall back into continuous sadness and feelings of inadequacy.

As I was leaving I said how Maria's job is about helping people get to the point where they don't need to see her anymore. I am reaching the end of so many things - life in London, longing for a second child, full-time work. This was the first of many goodbyes.

It also helped me decide that I'm definitely going to stop posting on this blog soon, for the time being at least. But I am also going to start a new one. When that is up and running I'll put a link here for anyone who would like to keep following our new adventures!

Supermum fail

2011-07-15T13:43:00.003+01:00

Abigail is four weeks old and a total treasure.

She sleeps and eats well. Her rare long screaming fits are always wind pain which can be soothed by changing positions. OK, so two hours of moving her about and soothing her in the middle of the night isn't easy but it's nothing like real colic and I am very grateful.

Recovery is almost complete and I've been out and about a lot. This is a total change from first time around, so I've been feeling great. I'd be doing even better if I could get over my inability to nap during the day but I'm working on it!

We are with my parents for a few days and had got the buggy delivered here ahead of our big move in a few weeks' time. So last night I decided to break out the buggy and put it together. I am the least techinically-minded person in the world but I was determined to succeed.

So in a ridiculously overconfident but somewhat tired haze, I opened the box and slid the components out. And the front wheel rolled out, bounced once and hit my sister's freestanding mirror. I watched it topple in slow motion and smash into dozens of lethal shards and hundreds of splinters all over the top of the stairs...

Lesson learned. Tonight I am handing over the night shift to my husband and getting more than 4 consecutive hours sleep for the first time in a long while.

But the buggy turned out beautifully in the end!

Perfect moment

2011-06-26T11:04:00.007+01:00

On every journey there is a longing to be somewhere it will make sense. It might not be the end of the road but it's a place of peace.

Today is my seventh wedding anniversary and I am at home with my beautiful family. We are about to start a new adventure - moving home, changing career, starting school and adjusting to the world.

We are happy and, above all, still hopeful.

On a day like today, you never want to see the sun go down

One week later

2011-06-24T09:38:00.003+01:00

What Abigail and I have learned so far:

Writing things down lets Abigail set the pace while easing mummy's desire to be in control of everything.

It's OK to live in pyjamas for a while, but a good idea to shower and change every day to pretend you aren't!

Hand expressing produces just enough milk in 45 minutes to drink in two quick gulps.

Having a baby just before Wimbledon starts is brilliant timing - who wouldn't want to spend hours playing or cuddling on the sofa while the tennis is on?

Daddy is the best at playing Abigail games (mummy doesn't have the imagination).

Big sister is brilliant and helpful and is going to be such a wonderful part of Abigail's life.

Abigail’s birth story

2011-06-22T14:05:00.005+01:00

Our long journey to our beautiful second daughter is finally over. We are starting out on a new adventure as a family of four and everything feels so right. But I won’t forget how difficult it was to get here.

I’m not sure what this blog will become - I don’t even know if I’ll keep writing here, leave it open or close it completely. I do feel there is a little bit of housekeeping to be done before I let it go. The first thing is for me to record how Abigail eventually arrived. As is traditional on baby blogs, it’s long and involved and very honest – you have been warned!

Abigail was born on Friday 17 June 2011. This is her story.

On Thursday afternoon I was experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions again but nothing any different from before. I had a long bath and for some reason cleaned the bathroom while I was there as I just felt like it needed doing!

Later that night we were all watching television together and I was sitting on the birth ball. I got up to clean my teeth and go to bed around 9pm. While I was standing at the sink I suddenly felt a very strong back pain and had to lean over the side of the bath. I couldn’t stand up without it feeling much worse.

This went on solidly for 45 minutes, not really like I was expecting contractions to be. At ten o’clock I took two paracetamol and went to lie down on the sofa. My husband turned the front room into a dark and quiet space, putting blankets on the floor for me to kneel on and setting out the birth ball. I put on some music and alternated between kneeling over the ball or on the floor, and lying down trying to rest.

At 12.30, while I was trying to doze between contractions, I noticed them suddenly ramp up again. I couldn’t lie down any more and had to kneel. The pain was only manageable when I was kneeling and I couldn’t physically move into any other position when it was strong. My back was aching constantly and the contractions were strong and all round my bump, not just at the top as the earlier ones had been. Luckily I had with me an expert at back rubs who could massage the base of my spine whenever it got too much!

Time was going by and I hadn’t started timing anything yet as I didn’t want to start worrying about how long or often the contractions were. I just wanted to let my body get on with it in the early stages without my mind getting in the way and slowing things down.

At 1.45am we decided this couldn’t possibly be a false alarm so called my parents to come and look after our daughter while we went to hospital. They live three hours away so we wanted to give them plenty of time to arrive.

Between 2am and 2.30 I felt as though time was going really slowly and started to think about when to call the hospital. I took a couple more paracetamol and noticed again how I couldn’t get off my knees when contracting – I just had to stay in the position my body demanded. We were very aware that going to hospital too soon would mean coming home again so we rang them at 3am to check what the midwife thought. She asked how frequent the contractions were and how long they were which we couldn’t accurately say so she told us to check and call back in half an hour.

From that point I really started paying attention and noticed how there was a bit of warning before each one, then an intense sensation, then fading away to just the aching back. But the surprise was that they were every 2-3 minutes (closer to 2 than 3) and around a minute long. This was much closer than I had thought. My plan to relax and let things go their own way seemed to be working a bit too well!

When my husband called the hospital again, the midwife said to come in straight away. By this point I wasn’t able to just breathe through the sensations any more, and what with the frequency of them and what the midwife could hear of me in the background she was definite that we shouldn’t wait any longer. My dear friend A, who had been on standby for weeks and who I can never thank enough, answered our call for help and rushed round as it looked like we hadn’t left as much time as we had thought for mum and dad to arrive. I remember giving her a hug and fleeing to the taxi but even in those few minutes I had three contractions.

The taxi ride at 4am should take about 5 minutes and we were a bit longer as we hit all the red lights – of course! Three contractions in the taxi, hugging my pillow and getting my back rubbed, then rushing in to the hospital. We arrived at about 4.15 and from that point things went a bit crazy.

We arrived at the birth centre and for me it’s a bit of a blur. I was losing track of time but pretty sure things were happening fast. My husband was talking to the midwife in reception who was trying to get me taken across to the home from home unit. I vaguely heard her talking repeatedly on the phone about a lady who was “distressed” and realised it was me.

A few minutes later we were moving along the corridor in short stages. The midwife stood next to me while I was propped up on the wall and just murmured quietly, “Well done, well done” which was very soothing. We made it to my room and I got two new midwives. I went through to the bathroom to change but suddenly got very sure this wasn’t the right place to be. Something about the way I shouted made the midwife yell “Get on the bed!”

So I was kneeling upright over the top half of the bed which was elevated like a dentist chair, with my back to everyone. The midwife in charge was trying to get me to turn over to be examined but there was no way I could move. She tried to find the baby’s heartbeat but couldn’t get in the right position.

My husband had been reassuring me while trying to get some gas and air for me – the entonox is piped into the rooms but there weren’t any tubes or mouthpieces ready. Then a third midwife appeared and he asked if I could have the gas... but the first midwife just said, “No time, baby is coming right now.”

Well, I am not really clear about much of the next few minutes. The combination of realising I wasn’t getting any pain relief, shock at how quickly things were going and sensing the anxiety of the lead midwife had really put me over the edge. A shouted conversation between us would give a flavour of the mood:

Me (yelling I think): I don’t know what you want me to do.

Midwife: Push. But not too hard or you’ll get a really big tear! Don’t scream, you’re wasting energy! Turn round! Are you having a contraction? Tell me when you’re having a contraction. Baby is coming now!

I think she was more panicky than me. But I don’t suppose they deliver many babies with absolutely no information, other than that this is happening right now. I hadn’t been examined, they hadn’t seen my notes (still in my bag), she had no idea how the baby was doing.

I shut my eyes and realised we were just going to have to get on with it. An image came into my mind of a white hot circle which expanded with each contraction and then got smaller again. The hardest part was knowing that circle would have to get bigger than it had so far. Every time a contraction faded, the circle shrank. I knew I’d have to get that far and then a bit further to finish this. For all the pros and cons of medicated birth, last time I did this I had an epidural to get me through this bit!

Finally, two contractions for the head, a burbling noise rather than a cry as Abigail introduced herself to her dad! Shoulder (ouch), then baby. Waters had broken just before and although I had no idea at the time, there was lots of meconium there. A new midwife was calmly explaining to me why she had brought in the baby resuscitator but I didn’t really understand what she was saying – luckily Abigail never needed it.

A very weird time came next, finally turning round to face everyone, lying back and just being glad it was over. My husband was able to cut the cord, which was something we’d never thought we were bothered about but he was really pleased with. Occasional moments of sharp clarity, but only when I was asked a direct question – did I want a managed third stage? Was the baby having a vitamin K injection? Was I happy not to have stitches for my very small tear? Third stage complete, Abigail having a cuddle with Daddy and for the first time there was nothing I had to do or decide. Phew.

I don’t remember the first time I saw Abigail.

I don’t remember an intense ‘baby rush’ where I was overcome with emotion.

I don’t really remember much now about the pain.

But I do remember the intense satisfaction of knowing her dad was holding her and I didn’t have to worry. I remember the midwife encouraging me to get up and shower, opening my bag for the first time and being detached but amused looking at all the things we’d carefully packed for a long labour in hospital. I got back into bed feeling fresher and as comfortable as possible, finally able to rest.

Abigail automatically had to stay for 24 hours for observations due to the meconium. She was absolutely fine but her temperature was a touch low... so we got to cuddle skin to skin for most of the day to warm her up a bit. We stayed in our room overlooking the Houses of Parliament overnight, where I could look at the lights reflected in the river when I couldn’t sleep.

Realising she was mine and finally believing I would get to keep her was a gradual process. It felt like slowly waking up from a fading dream to a beautiful sunny morning.

The day we first met...

2011-06-18T13:41:00.004+01:00

Abigail

Born Friday 17 June 2011, 4.50am
9lb,4oz

Very loved and treasured

Three days overdue

2011-06-15T20:13:00.004+01:00

Just a quick update - we are still here and waiting.

I'm relaxing at home with a bowl of homemade chowder after a long nap. The best way to get through this uncertain period seems to be not to think too much. I had a lovely lunch with a friend and a good walk this afternoon. I'm trying to bear in mind that there can't be more than two weeks left.

Doctor's appointment yesterday reveals baby 2/5 engaged... same as six weeks ago before she bobbed up again. No labour signs at all but that doesn't mean things couldn't kick off any moment and go quickly.

Can't imagine how it's going to be, or what she'll be like. Very weird dreams, including giving birth at home with one push to a baby who smiled and fell asleep - bit of wishful thinking there perhaps!

100th post - due date!

2011-06-12T18:34:00.003+01:00

After a real rollercoaster over the past 2.5 years, it feels surreal to be here. This baby is officially ready to come and join us at last.

She doesn't seem to have got the message but I'm sure it won't be long!

At my church children and people who aren't confirmed can come to the front during communion for a blessing. While I was receiving communion this morning, Robert asked me if I wanted a blessing for the bump. It was such a brilliant affirmation of her and reminded me that she is already here, just not born yet.

Feeling much calmer about being 'overdue' than last time. We have one week left with no intervention then one week with a sweep then induction in two weeks' time. No matter what happens the end of the road is definitely in sight.

Reaction

2011-06-11T21:02:00.004+01:00

After a great day yesterday finishing lots of baby-related jobs, today has been totally the opposite.

I've slept twice and felt poorly all day. Baby has been very active, hopefully limbering up for birth in the not too distant future.

One day til due date - can't be that many more until the big day...

Busy

2011-06-10T20:52:00.003+01:00

The crib is ready!

We have spent all day scrubbing, cleaning and arranging and our bedroom is finally prepared. It will still be interesting managing four people in one room for a few weeks but at least it now seems possible. I also found the newborn sleepsuits that had gone missing so the baby's wardrobe is waiting for her at last.

And I've learned that doing five laundry loads in one day at 39w5d sadly isn't guaranteed to induce labour!

Starting to believe

2011-06-09T16:13:00.008+01:00

Last night it began to seem real for the first time. We had a great time looking round the home from home unit at the hospital and visualising what it might be like to be there. The baby was kicking up a storm so it seems she's happy with the environment at least!

The tour didn't go to the birth centre as it was too busy. But as I'm hoping my hospital stay will follow the same pattern as the tour - birth suite, garden room, pool room, direct discharge - I didn't mind. I'm relaxed about ending up in the birth centre if necessary because if it happens, it happens and it will be for the baby's safety.

But having seen it again I really want to stay on the home from home.

The pool room was pretty functional, not like a jacuzzi or anything. But I could really imagine us in there. There are two adjacent pools and someone was labouring in the one next door. At one point the unmistakeable "I'm in labour" sound that only birthing women can make was heard through the wall. The tour guide moved us swiftly on but it was a powerful reminder of what we are all facing.

A midwife once described it to me as 'mooing' which I think is a bit rude! But 'lowing' might be an accurate description and it wasn't about being in unbareable pain. Just about the reality of getting to the end of the journey. I have no idea how I'll cope with it. But I definitely want to go into it as positively as possible.

Last night I had my strongest Braxton Hicks contractions yet. At one point they were 6 minutes apart for an hour and a half. I didn't think much of it as they definitely weren't 'proper' contractions. But it was a glimpse of how things might kick off.

So Sunday is the due date, Tuesday is my 40 week check. If I get to 41w2d (21 June) I have another midwife appointment and probably a sweep. Induction would be round about 25th June if we get that far.

But we still have fingers crossed that's not going to happen this time. Baby, we are ready when you are.

Week 40

2011-06-08T11:18:00.003+01:00

We are doing well and enjoying the peace before the new baby arrives. I haven’t been out as much as I should but am loving being able to rest up. My sleep patterns are becoming very baby centred. I am awake for a couple of hours in the early morning, sleep until about 11am, and get tired early in the evening. Finding it hard to drop off to sleep at night but rather than worrying about insomnia, I’m taking my husband’s advice to just do what feels right. It’s probably just tuning in to the baby naps I will need to be taking in a few weeks.

At the beginning of the week we noticed a water mark on our bathroom ceiling. We’ve spoken to the tenant upstairs and there doesn’t appear to be an obvious leak but we’ve reported it to our landlords and are hoping for a speedy resolution as it has been spreading. As I don’t think the ceiling’s going to fall in and we are leaving in two months I am not going to let it get to me – there are enough things to worry about at the moment!

We are going on our hospital tour tonight. I’m looking forward to getting it all fixed in my mind as it’s so long since we were there. I’m really keen to get in on the ‘home from home’ unit this time, rather than the more medicalised birth centre. It would be great to at least have the opportunity to try for a water birth – even if I turn out to be one of the ones who takes one look at the pool on the day and changes her mind! In order to go to the home from home you have to be low risk and have no problems on admission so it’s a bit hit and miss. No epidurals there but it’s midwife led rather than consultants and you can stay up to 24 hours after birth with your partner rather than going to the postnatal ward with limited visiting hours.

Baby is due on Sunday! We are finally getting through all the jobs we need to do – only the bedroom left to arrange. It’s going to be hard with four people in our one bedroom flat so there will be some nocturnal swaps with me and baby in the front room I imagine. At the end of July we are leaving London for good so it’s not a big worry.

Doing my best to stay calm. Not long to go now.

June already?

2011-06-04T10:04:00.002+01:00

Our little one is due in 8 days... and will definitely be born this month whatever happens!

I still am in denial I think. We have done nearly everything, just need to set up the crib and we are good to go. I'm finding it hard to balance being ready with being patient but the waiting is nearly over.

Check up last week showed baby only 1/5 engaged so she doesn't seem to be in any hurry at the moment.

Winding down

2011-05-26T09:00:00.004+01:00

(written 23 May but published today due to Blogger problems)

37 weeks. Bags are packed. Babysitters are on stand-by. My daughter’s 4th birthday party has been held two weeks early – just in case! We are nearly ready...

I did my last session volunteering at my daughter’s nursery this morning and the teacher asked me to pop back to say hello when the baby arrives. It was really good to hear.

There was something very matter of fact and blessedly inevitable about it. Of course there’s going to be a happy and healthy baby in about a month, maybe less. How could it be otherwise? It really made me smile.

Now we just have to balance this sense of readiness and excitement with the fact there could still be 5 weeks to go!

How is it possible...?

2011-05-10T09:26:00.003+01:00

How is it possible for me to be a little bit in shock at being where we are?

We have prayed and planned (and struggled and cried) so much and now I'm 35 weeks pregnant thinking, "wait a minute, we're having a baby now?". This feels very odd.

But on the other hand maybe it's just normal baby shock. No matter how you get here, however planned or otherwise, however long the wait... I think there's always going to be a reality check moment when it's hard to believe something so huge is going to happen in a few weeks.

I'm trying to close down distractions and enjoy the last few weeks of relative peace. We spent a fabulous weekend at a house party in Cambridge with friends and it was great to think that next time we see them the baby will be here.

I have to keep repeating that to make it sink in! But nothing will convince me totally until I am looking into our brand new child's eyes and I can say "You're finally here."

Tuning in

2011-05-03T12:10:00.002+01:00

I have recently begun to notice a much greater connectedness with this little one. I’m often awake at night for an hour or two, not feeling uncomfortable or trying to sleep but just being quietly alert and feeling her kicks and wriggles.

I can also feel myself gently returning to the state of ‘hyper-vigilance’ that I first experienced when my daughter was a newborn. Deep sleep is a thing of the past and at the slightest murmur or mutter I’m wide awake and very aware of what’s happening. As we live in a one bedroom flat, this mothering sense is focussing on my soon-to-be four year old at the moment but I’m sure it will promptly transfer to the new baby once she’s here!

I am so glad to live in a country with sensible maternity rights and work for an employer who takes them seriously. I would really miss this opportunity to readjust myself to ‘baby frequency’ if I had to work up until the last minute. I’ve also got the chance to experiment a bit with pregnancy yoga and a prenatal hypnotherapy CD which I haven’t had time to do up til now.

I know that ultimately you get the birth you end up with whatever you do. But at the margins there are some alternative preparations I will try this time around. Hopefully a more relaxed and less sceptical approach will make a difference after all.

The only slightly worrying thing is that if I am feeling so much more content and fulfilled by letting pregnancy and motherhood define me for a while... what does that say about the other me?

I have studied and worked and refined myself into a career woman who juggles everything. I earn the money, present the world with a professional persona and work efficiently to get things done. Family is the most important priority in my life but I delegate to my husband so much of what it actually means to parent.

Having struggled so hard to get here, will I discover that what I want to change isn’t just the size and shape of my family but also the direction of my life?

33 weeks

2011-04-24T17:51:00.001+01:00

Happy Easter!

We've had a wonderful Holy Week, sharing it properly with our daughter for the first time. She has loved the stories of the last supper and Jesus's last day on Earth. She now knows why Good Friday is sad but Easter Day is happy ("Because Jesus came back to life. And I can eat my chocolate ducky.")

There has been something really special about sharing our faith with her as she gets older and begins to understand more and more. We are building our own family traditions blending our Anglican and Catholic heritage, from services and bible readings to the Easter hunt - so much fun now she can read! I got a real sense of something we can build on each year as the seasons come round again and our family grows.

On a separate but also cheery note, I am now on maternity leave! I am still recovering from pushing myself over the last few weeks to keep going without really making any pregnancy concessions as I knew I would soon stop working. I don't really feel as happy as I thought I might given that if we can make the pennies last I'm not going back until February. I have a feeling that when I'm rested and everyone else goes back to work after Easter there will be a real rush of excitement and peace.

Finally I wanted to share a piece of advice I read which I am going to make my motto for the next few weeks:

Don't stand if you can sit. Don't sit if you can lie down. Don't be awake if you can be asleep. There's a baby on the way!

The open door

2011-04-18T18:07:00.002+01:00

Looking back on what I've written over the last few months, I realised I never really went into much detail about the counselling I received. I have now finished the programme although I can go back for one or two follow up sessions if I want to. I thought at one time I would go into all the details and use my blog to help process what happened. But it didn't work out like that.

I learned a lot about myself and how I prefer to handle difficult situations. I learned how high expectations and 'perfectionist' traits can get you a long way - success at work, a well-ordered and structured routine and good self-awareness. But sometimes we face situations where we can't just power through and get to the other side without help. And that's when the independent perfectionist risks self destructing.

My therapist also opened me up to the idea of rewards. Schedule fun things, bringing in people who you have been excluding in the quest for self reliance. And after you've done the activity you planned, treat yourself! I really like this concept and although I kept my treats very modest, I am now much more comfortable believing I deserve treats to reward success, rather than just trivialising it and setting even higher goals.

I also found a lot of peace by separating out certain events that were muddled together in my head. No matter what I did, I couldn't let go of my anxiety over this pregnancy... until I realised it was built on feelings from my miscarriage. Without going back and figuring out a way to deal with that, I couldn't resolve my new circumstances.

So am I better? Yes. Is everything fixed and are all problems solved? No.

I am clear that my depressive symptoms are behind me for now. The door to that dark place is still open, even though I've turned my back on it. But I am also sure that I am better equipped to notice if I start to go back towards it, and that I won't ever find myself lost in the dark again with no clue how I ended up there.

The end of the middle

2011-04-02T08:54:00.003+01:00

Last night I woke up with a pinching pain in my left hand. My fingers had swollen up and I had to take off my wedding ring. It was confirmation of something I've been expecting for a while - I am getting towards the end of the easy bit.

As with my first pregnancy, the first bit was unpleasant. But the middle has been great. Even with the odd bad day I've had a relatively easy ride and for a few weeks have enjoyed the fun of a huge bump without too many side effects. The worst thing was the reflux but since week 25 I've been taking medication to sort that out so for at least a month it's been plain sailing.

But over the last few days there have been some clear signs that things are now getting serious:

A couple of spectacular nosebleeds.

Breathlessness causing me to sigh a lot.

Clicky hips (when I turn over in bed it sounds like castanets!).

Feeling too hot - flinging off blankets and then feeling cold.

Friday afternoons feeling not just tired but "I'm going to have to sleep for two days in order to pull together enough energy to get up on Monday" tired.

Trouble getting comfy, falling asleep and staying asleep.

To counteract this I have also had a spell of confronting reality.

I have bought a changing table and equipped it with baskets of baby essentials. I have sorted through some baby clothes and made goodbye lunch appointments with friends at work. Inventories are written, an eco-disposable nappy supplier has been picked and I am organising cross-country logistics plans to gather together baby things my daughter had which have been scattered to various relatives over the years.

I think we are going to have a baby!

Out to lunch

2011-03-27T13:50:00.002+01:00

Yesterday I had lunch with my husband in a local restaurant and we did not:

1. Take our daughter (she went to the cafe with grandma instead)

2. Talk about pregnancy/babies/moving house

3. Order water to save pennies

Instead we had a lovely carefree lunch together. Raspberry lemonade was delicious enough to make up for not having wine, pasta was marvellous and I enjoyed guilt free ice cream for pudding because at 29 weeks my tummy is not going to show a couple of scoops of gelato!

So what on earth did we talk about. All the things we used to talk about. Like what car we might get, where we'd like to go on holiday as soon as we have any cash, and how it's all very well to protest in Hyde Park but the nation's finances are in an even worse state than ours so maybe we just aren't going to be able to retire at 60 any more...

Lovely normal things in other words. I'm finally in a virtuous circle where feeling better lets me do things which make me feel better still.

One year on

2011-03-20T13:07:00.001Z

One year ago today I started writing this blog. It was a way to let out some of the bottled up feelings about life after loss and our difficulties trying to have another child. It has proved to be a very good space for me on my journey. If I write less in it now than I used to, I take that as a good sign that I don’t need it as a prop anymore. Instead I can enjoy it as a safe place to put my thoughts now they are less emotionally charged.

The road has been bumpy, including months more waiting, appointments, testing (some of it pretty unpleasant) and finally treatment. Along the way I’ve been sidetracked by further assessment and counselling for depressive symptoms caught up with the tangle of emotions from grief and feelings of failure. But ultimately I am so aware that, despite everything that has happened, I only really dipped a toe in the water of the murky depths of infertility.

Our eventual success, although it took nearly two and a half years, was achieved after one clomid cycle. Our pregnancy has been smooth and uneventful so far, with the only physical symptoms needing treatment being reflux and dry eyes (on top of the usual nausea and fatigue). Even on the darkest days we were constantly buoyed up knowing that, whatever happened, our first daughter was already with us.

But I am not going to trivialise what we have survived, or how incredibly thankful I am to be where we are now. I can’t answer why God ‘lets’ these things happen to anyone and I don’t think that’s even the right way to look at it. But I know He has been holding my family the whole time.

The relief of knowing our second child would one day be with us didn’t come by our lost baby’s due date. Or the new year. Or the anniversary of my miscarriage. But just before the anniversary of my unfulfilled due date I was pregnant again, and was filled with hope and certainty that now was the right time.

On question on my heart last year was “where will I be one year from now?”

And if I had known that today would be day one of the third trimester I would have seized that outcome with both hands and a joyful heart.

100 days

2011-03-04T17:15:00.003Z

Our due date is 100 days away!

Having got to a much better place in anticipating a good outcome, the time is now flying by. I feel like things are improving in leaps and bounds the closer the summer gets. So many positive things are happening now that the long wait is fading fast. The quick rundown is:

I have applied for maternity leave and have a planned leaving date of 21 April.

I now have much less opportunity to worry about the baby because at nearly 26 weeks there is so much kicking, nudging and fluttering going on that I'm getting plenty of reassurance.

I am coming to the end of my counselling sessions and have found it incredibly helpful to take time to focus on what has made the last two years so hard and how to move forward from that.

Lifting the veil of sadness that has covered every aspect of my life recently has made everything else get easier. Every small step to feeling better has made other things improve very quickly.

My family is so wonderful! I asked my husband the other day how he thought I was doing. His reply reminded me of the many reasons we are perfect together and there is no-one else I would rather share this journey with.

"You're doing brilliantly. You always were."

24 weeks

2011-02-20T14:39:00.006Z

After some emotional turmoil a few weeks ago things are much more serene here. Both husband and daughter have felt the baby kick, which is lovely and makes it more real for all of us.

I'm determined to start some positive planning now and let go of as much stress as possible. I have begun looking into relaxation techniques and positions for labour - I've even felt up to viewing the hospital birth centre website to remind myself of the environment we'll be in on the big day. This is great progress on the road to accepting in my heart as well as my head that we are well on the way to a healthy and happy baby!

One thing I found very difficult last time was the first few weeks at home. I was very bad at relaxing and living in the moment. My husband practically had to carry me back to bed to make me rest becasue every time our daughter slept I'd jump up and try to burn off some restlessness by cleaning! Really regreted it when true exhustion hit me a bit later.

So I have bought a book about babymooning and am seriously considering how we could make it work for us. The idea of resting tranquilly in one place, totally focussing on the baby and my own physical and emotionally recovery, sounds lovely but is so against my temprament. Baby centric mindset, resting and semi seclusion (not to mention nice snacks and treats!) could really help me through the difficult first weeks and I'm really drawn to giving it a go. Slowing down, not trying to push through to the next stage, and really learning who this new child is going to be - how could I not want to at least try and dial back my own mental busy-ness and enjoy that?

Realistically I'm not going to aim for six weeks of nesting. I'm not going to pretend this is the magic solution that will guarantee successful breastfeeding this time round. I'm sure it won't totally free me from all anxiety about how this new baby is going to change our family, both in terms of relationships and practicalities like moving house. But I'm bad at celebrating and enjoying special times when they come around and this feels like a really good way to change that.

What I hope my child would want me to know

2011-02-04T17:25:00.004Z

Dear Mama,

Please don’t be sad about how you reacted when you lost me. You say you didn’t honour me by grieving enough. In your head you tried to believe what people told you about me – that I didn’t live long enough to matter, I never had a heartbeat, I was never real. You threw yourself into work and then tried as hard as you could to have another baby to give the love you didn’t have time to share with me.

But I can see in your heart how you really felt. You cried so many tears, how could you not have realised they were for me all along? I have seen you mourn deeply for nearly two years and I know it was the only way you had left to love me.

Some people live for many years and when they die they aren’t missed the way you miss me. Every second I was with you, though it was only for a few weeks, you loved me. I know it hurts to remember the plans you made for me that were never going to happen. But I don’t want you to stop making plans.

Now I have two sisters who need your love and support. One of them isn’t even born yet, but you love her just as you loved me. I’m sorry I can’t play with them and get to know them the way you and Daddy will. Please remember that loving them doesn’t take away from our time together. It’s just that my time with you was always going to be shorter than theirs.

I hope you will be comforted when you really start believing these words. Why would I want the memory of me to make you sad? Instead, it’s time to remember me with joy. The memorial I want is for our family to be strong and happy – and even though I am not with you, I will always be a part of that. x

Under the surface

2011-02-02T18:16:00.004Z

I have started to write lots of posts about how my couselling sessions are going. But I have made lots of excuses why I haven't finished them. The truth is it's really difficult to write about. I wouldn't be trying to do so again if it wasn't for the fact I think it will be helpful.

Helpful in what way? Well, after 5 sessions I think I am in a place where I can see that I did not let myself grieve properly when I miscarried nearly two years ago. I wanted to believe that "it was only an early loss." I would get pregnant again soon, right? And it was a pregnancy I had lost, not a child. So just pop another baby in there and everything will resolve itself. I had a beautiful daughter at home already - there was nothing to be upset about that couldn't be fixed with a 'real' baby.

Nurses told me this. Colleagues agreed. Friends reinforced the message. People I trusted did their best (with the noblest intentions) to rush me into feeling better. Partly because they cared about me and thought it was the right thing for me. Partly I suspect because we don't handle other people's grief well, let alone our own, and my sadness was pushing them out of their comfort zone. I went along with it because deep down it seemed easier to not think and just bury the emotions and move on.

My child died and I let myself be talked out of grieving.

I cannot describe how guilty that makes me feel. But at least I think that's what needs to be addressed now.

My sweet angel, I'm so sorry I didn't even acknowledge you existed. I'm now trying to find a way to say goodbye to you and finally let you go.

3-1

2011-01-28T12:03:00.002Z

Team Pink take an unassailable 3-1 lead in our household! We are now going to have to come up with baby girl names, which for some reason we find much trickier.

My husband optimistically said "it could be twin boys next time." But I'm pretty sure he was joking ; )

We are so pleased she looks well and happy. Next time we see her it will be for real...

Note to self

2011-01-22T11:09:00.003Z

To Me,

Having finally become pregnant again (and reaching the half way point), being disappointed that the position of the placenta means you don't feel the baby kicking much is like winning a million pounds and regretting that it wasn't £10 more.

Go and have a bubble bath and relax!

Love from Me x

Not as shallow a post as it sounds...

2011-01-17T20:19:00.003Z

Lots of complex things still going on. But today I'm going to write about lasagne!

My husband makes delicious lasagne. But today he tweaked the recipe and it's even better. And after a bad day at work, a sore tummy and post-insomnia weariness it was just what was needed. There are lots of ways to say 'I love you' and sometimes dinner is one of the best.

I swear, sometimes I think this man is taking better care of our unborn child than I am.

Annie N

2011-01-14T10:43:00.004Z

There are lots of thoughts swirling around my head at the moment and I've mentally composed lots of blog entries to try and capture some of them.

But they all pale into irrelevance compared with the sad news we had this week. On Tuesday afternoon, my friend Annie died peacefully in hospital after a devastating 18 months living with lung cancer.

She was such a supportive and generous-hearted person and I'm so grateful I had the chance to know her. In health, her boundless energy and New Zealand zest for life were inspirational. She was so selfless that even when facing life-threatening illness she would still ask what she could do to help others. In the last months of her illness we hadn't seen her although we were still in touch. I'm so sorry I won't hear from her again and we will never forget her.

I first met Annie through another New Zealander who was in my antenatal classes. Our children were born within a few months of each other, and it was through Heather and Annie that my husband and I made contact with other mums in the area. She lived two minutes from our flat and we were often invited round for coffee. It is because of her my husband wasn't isolated when I went back to work and he was our daughter's full time carer.

I could write so much about what she meant to us, how sad we were when she told us about her illness and how her updates from hospital were always upbeat. Even when reading between the lines we knew things weren't good, she was never bitter.

Annie, you and your husband deserved at least another 30 years. Your wonderful boy will miss you at his fourth birthday and all the ones to come. You inspired us and we miss you so much.

Every time we play with those magnetic letters, sing the rocket song or eat mini waffles we will think of you! x

Resolution

2011-01-04T18:48:00.003Z

Happy new year!

I have a resolution. I don't usually but this year I will.

I am going to enjoy the rest of my pregnancy. 2009 and 2010 were years of either having a miscarriage, failing to get pregnant or worrying I would experience a second loss. 2011 will be the year of enjoying having emerged on the other side.

I had a midwife appointment today (17w2d) and I asked her to listen for the heartbeat. She was a bit reluctant as she didn't want to upset me if she couldn't find it. She prodded and wobbled the machine on my tummy. I could hear my heart but not the baby's, or so I thought. Then she said, "Sorry, all I can get is the pulse in the cord. That whoosing sound."

Disappointed? Not a chance! I heard the evidence with my own ears that there is a baby there and something is going right!

Since my nuchal scan 6 weeks ago I've let myself get more anxious. Not going to do that anymore (as far as I can). I know there are no guarantees. But today I am celebrating having got this far. And if I can do that every day it will be June before I know it.

White wedding

2010-12-27T12:03:00.004Z

Happy Christmas!

Things have been busy and we had a lovely time over the Christmas weekend. One of the highlights was a school friend's wedding a few days before Christmas.

Although there was heavy snow and icy roads, it was an amazing time. The bride and groom have been living in Morocco and did a fantastic job of arranging things from afar. Despite the very sad news that the bride's dad had passed away less than two weeks before the big day, they decided to carry on. The day was touched with sadness but I really believe we all honoured his wish that his daughter would have as wonderful a day as possible.

I haven't attended a winter wedding before and certainly not one in a traditional British winter - until recently our Decembers have been rather grey affairs. It was totally magical. The small Gloucestershire village church was the perfect setting and the bride looked radiant. She braved the snow in a strapless dress with only a simple shrug to keep off the chill, and had to swap wellingtons for wedding shoes in the church porch!

We had been invited to sing with the choir and my husband sang the tenor solo. After the ceremony we all set off for the reception 30 miles away in an isolated barn up in the hills. Quite an adventure in that weather but well worth it when we arrived. It was great to catch up with friends I haven't seen for a while. We danced and laughed and ate (a lot!) and for the first time in a few months I felt totally well. I am going to try and surround myself more often with the people who make me laugh until I can't breathe!

Although there were moments of deep sadness - can you imagine getting married in the church where your father's funeral was held less than 48 hours before? - the courage and love shone through and it was a truly memorable day.

Life is complicated. But get the balance right and it can still be wonderful.

Complicated

2010-12-19T14:26:00.005Z

Life is complicated.

This isn't unexpected but it can be difficult to manage sometimes, which is why I'm finding it hard to know how and what to blog at the moment.

I could write about my ongoing experiences with counselling for being on the edge of depression. I could write about being in a dual reality of enjoying being 15 weeks pregnant but simultaneously convinced it's only temporary and we aren't going to bring home a baby in June. I could write about how brilliantly exciting Christmas is with a three year old but how I am also tired and secretly wondering whether it will actually be a relief just to get through it.

But I don't want to write about these things. Instead I want to tell you about three of my friends.

One is in the fourth year of primary infertility, keeping up a brave front but struggling under the double blow of childlessness at Christmas and the recent discovery that her mum is very ill.

A second is getting married on Wednesday, but the joy and celebration have been dealt a terrible blow by the death of her father last week.

And the third is in hospital having radiotherapy for lung cancer, having been there for three months already for treatment for secondary cancer which has spread to her bones.

This isn't about comparing sorrows. But it is about trying to hold the tinsel and carols in balance with the tears and difficulties. The baby in the manger became the man suffering on the cross. There is no way to have one without the other.

Life is complicated.

In my thoughts

2010-12-09T11:22:00.003Z

Three bloggers are particularly in my thoughts today.

Michelle is waiting to find out if her hard fought battle to complete an IVF cycle will pay off. She is desperate for her two sparks of hope to settle in for the duration and is testing on the 15th.

Courtney had a frightening time over the weekend when she almost lost her precious pregnancy early in the second trimester. She is now having to move to high risk care and faces a long and uncertain journey to 38 weeks.

R.J. has reached the final stretch and is aiming to get her twins to her scheduled c-section date on 14 December. Having been on bedrest since 29 weeks this is fantastic, and she is dealing with the discomforts of carrying 12lb of baby as she waits out the last week.

There is no part of this journey that is easy.

Ladies, I am thinking of you and all the others on the path to parenthood. May we all get there sooner rather than later.

Don't say that!

2010-12-03T17:45:00.002Z

*Warning - slightly grumpy post ahead!*

Went to my doctor today to try and sort out some serious acid reflux problems.

(When pregnant with my daughter I ended up on proton pump inhibiting medication after vomiting blood at 34 weeks, so no I don't think it's 'just pregnancy heartburn'.)

And when we were discussing my other symptoms she said one of the classics...

"In a way it's good that you are so sick still. It means the hormones are high and the pregnancy is going well."

I hate this so-called logic. Firstly, though I am absolutely not complaining and I did volunteer for this, it's never good to feel so sick. Can you think of any other circumstances where vomiting up to three times a day for seven weeks and counting would be 'a good thing'? And incidentally, when you'd still be expected to go to work as usual?

Secondly, bad things can happen whatever the symptoms. Or lack of them. If I stop feeling sick soon does that means the hormones have cut off? No.

I do know that the things she said make sense. I know I should elevate my bed, eat little and often, and of course "avoid stress". I am not really cross with the lovely Dr B.

I heard my voice going a bit rapid and high pitched in the surgery and realised I am still not OK with this. I am still anxious, and not believing this is going to happen. I do need to relax, let go and get some patience.

Right, self analysis complete. Time to take the medicine, take a deep breath, and get on with being a grumpy, poorly but very much pregnant person. I am truly one of the lucky ones.

To the one who...

2010-12-02T11:20:00.004Z

… held my freezing fingers in his warm hand one frosty November night 12 years ago.

… wrote me a beautiful email containing images of mice (playing cricket under the stars, eating alphabet spaghetti and playing the clarinet) – composed only of letters and symbols. ~O3:>

… taught my tastebuds that ready-meals really aren’t as good.

… made me a musical lullaby tape to help me sleep when I was thousands of miles away.

… proposed on top of the Jubilee Tower.

… coached me from 10cm dilated to crowning when we had to sack the dreadful midwife.

… cares for and teaches our daughter and helps her to be the amazing little person she is.

… was always his wonderful self, even when I wasn’t myself.

… will be brilliant in his music exam this afternoon!

Thank you so much. I love you xxx

Forgetfulness

2010-11-26T09:56:00.003Z

Nearing the end of the first trimester, I am grateful yet stunned by how quickly the pain and struggles of trying to get here have lessened. I caught myself thinking the other day that it wouldn't have been so bad to have needed a couple more attempts on clomid to become pregnant again. As long as we got there in the end it wouldn't have felt so traumatic to be patient for a while longer.

Wait a minute. It would have felt terrible.

Just four months ago I was in tears several times a week and assessed for depression. I was overwhelmed and sometimes hopeless. I thought about my loss every one of the 575 days between miscarrying my second baby and conceiving my third, even with the great consolation of a healthy and happy little daughter to cuddle.

I am incredibly blessed to be experiencing such amazing healing. But I have learnt to be mindful of the speed at which it has caused me to forget how it feels to be in a different situation.

If ever anyone talks to me in future about loss or grief they are experiencing, I will try very hard not to immediately say, "I'm sure it will all work out." Or "Maybe it was for the best in the long run." Or "Don't worry, this happened to me (/my friend/someone I know vaguely or read about once) and everything was fine in the end."

I hope I will remember to just listen and, if words are needed, only to say how sorry I am.

"Everything looks fantastic"

2010-11-23T18:27:00.002Z

Exactly what I wanted the sonographer to say!

Little one matched perfectly with dates at 11w2d, was beautifully well formed and even gave us a wave. Heard the heartbeat for the first time (167 bpm) and I'm finally relaxing a bit.

Having ballooned up in size and taken a noticeable amount of time off work, it will be a relief to go public with our exciting news. It feels like the really good time is around the corner, just waiting now for the sickness to fade...

From there to here

2010-10-29T18:33:00.003+01:00

I cannot believe I can write this so calmly after all the waiting... we have reached 7 weeks 5 days!

Today I had a scheduled scan and was discharged from the assisted conception unit to my GP for routine antenatal care. I am back to ‘routine’! My dates were also corrected to ovulation based rather than LMP based so everything’s all lined up and ready to go. Baby is due on 12 June. Wonderful words.

On top of all that good news, when I got home I found I had received my booking letter and date for the first trimester scan. It’s only 3.5 weeks away... and the baby will be big enough for an abdominal scan by then so that’s another milestone.

I deliberately did not write about the last few weeks while I was going through them, but I would like to record them briefly now. This is how we got this far.

3 Oct (14 dpo): Faintest of faint lines on a pregnancy test.

5 Oct (16 dpo): First ever positive digital test. They may cost £10 each but there is nothing like the reassurance of seeing the word ‘pregnant’ appear in the little window.

12 Oct: No symptoms yet. Very long night of weeping that things might not work out.

15 Oct (5w5d): Exhausted and constantly queasy. Text friends with the excellent news that I feel terrible!

17 Oct: The lavender in the park has been cut back for the winter. I remember how hopeful I was when it first bloomed that we’d get results before it faded.

19 Oct: Called the nurse for my scan appointment. This began a long process of missed calls and frustration.

22 Oct: Cramping and bleeding. Straight round to the Emergency Unit at the hospital. Yes, I was crazy lady who wept in reception. But did get a scan within an hour – everything perfect.

27 Oct: Another day off sick from work. Have told my boss why, so at least they’re not counting all this absence against me.

29 Oct: Finally get scanned and signed off from the ACU. The sonographer hands me a little black and white print out of our baby (just a strangely shaped splodge at the moment), which I keep staring at on the way home.

I am starting to believe this is really happening!

Beginner's luck

2010-10-24T14:31:00.003+01:00

I am still very nervous about saying this. However...

After a long wait, our first clomid cycle and a lot of tears and prayers we are 7 weeks pregnant today.

On Friday I saw my baby's heartbeat and today I am going to let myself believe this could be it.

Angelversary

2010-10-13T18:31:00.002+01:00

Today is the first anniversary of my unfulfilled due date.

I am praying that this time next year the sadness will be lessened with new hope.

Seven

2010-09-28T19:56:00.002+01:00

Day 21 progesterone = 7. Therefore no ovulation at day 14, which we knew anyway as I had a scan on day 17. In the words of Nurse J, “Not quite as high as we were hoping for.”

So the plan is to move on to 100mg in the next cycle. No surprises there and I’m recovering from the frustration of the nurse promising to call on Thursday and not calling until Monday.

It’s still possible I may have ovulated after day 21. Pragmatically I can understand that the point of the exercise is to find out whether the clomid worked, so they won’t test my progesterone levels again. But it would have been good to find out if there’s anything going on in there.

Seven is also the number of pounds gained this month. The nurse said that any hormonal therapy makes people more susceptible to weight gain so not only am I going to do this again on a double dose, I will also have to cut out any comfort eating. Otherwise I could end up in the worst of both worlds; not pregnant but much bigger!

This will be made harder by my husband’s delicious home cooking. Since the cold, grey, autumnal weather has kicked in he has been creating a string of delicacies suited to chilly weather such as warming stews and fabulous fruit crumbles. But no complaints about that : )

Two questions for YOU

2010-09-26T09:03:00.005+01:00

I have been checking the Stats fuction for this blog recently (excellent new Blogger feature but bad for obsessives like me!). It tells bloggers how many readers come in each day and it has made me want to ask my readers two things:

1. Do you have a Blogger account?

2. Have you read this blog more than twice?

If you answered 'yes' to both questions, please consider becoming a follower of this blog. Just click Follow at the top of the blog and you will get automatic updates when I post and won't have to do a web search each time.

And from a selfish point of view, it makes me feel like it's worth posting when things are tough and I get all negative thinking no-one's reading!

Thanks so much.

P.S. I know I also owe a post about what's going on with my first clomid cycle. But I am in a very frustrating place right now and I am hoping to get a better picture very soon.

In the meantime, instead of moaning I will just say "Let us not become weary in doing the right thing because at the proper time we will reap a harvet if we do not give up." (Galatians 6:9) I don't know if the harvest in store for me is another child but in the meantime we are going to keep on not giving up!

Numbers

2010-09-20T18:32:00.003+01:00

D21 bloods drawn today.

Aiming for progesterone levels over 30.

My centre's pregnancy rate for first clomid cycle is 15%.

Three-cycle success rate is 24%.

Roughly 40% of couples get pregnant after 6 months of clomid.

How lucky will we get?

Being like Gerard

2010-09-18T10:21:00.003+01:00

I work in an organisation of nearly 3,000 people. There are great things about it and I am truly lucky in that I love my job. Like all places where people have to get on with each other the best they can (but not necessarily by choice), it can get tough sometimes. Twice in my career at real low points, I have been fortunate enough to meet Gerard.

Gerard is in charge of 'People Development'. Officially he supports the leadership, skills and development strategies; attending meetings, running training and development programmes and promoting good management. However, if you are talking to a colleague when things aren't going well, or are in the right bit of the grapevine of gossip, you may hear the magic words, "Have you spoken to Gerard at all?"

You can call him up, arrange a meeting and get a one to one chat with someone who radiates calm. I'm not talking about counselling or personal problems, but an expert professional opinion on how to change what you're doing to get better results in the office. He advised me on an application form I was struggling with and made me see things in a whole new light. There wasn't much wrong with the form or me... I was just applying for the wrong posts. Gerard didn't tell me how to fix the problem, but with his reassurance and confidence boost I changed tactics and went on to promotion within a year.

I don't know how he does it but he is always outwardly serene and makes you believe anything is possible. He is good humoured, patient and knows just what to say. There is a real expertise in how he can highlight the positives in a person or situation and make people believe they can succeed. I invited him to run a workshop for my team last year and he delivered a bespoke session which really made a difference to how we worked together and was also a lot of fun.

So what made me think about Gerard? My work attitude is suffering a bit these days what with one thing and another and I am at risk of getting very whiney and grumpy about it. This will do me no good personally or professionally. I think the answer is to remember Gerard - patient and positive.

If I can't lift myself I will try and lift others... and will probably find that this was the answer to feeling better myself anyway!

Rescan

2010-09-16T12:38:00.002+01:00

Met Nurse J this morning for some mixed messages.

Second scan shows one 14.5mm follicle on the right and one 8mm on the left. This is the smallest response they would consider successful if it had been day 12. At day 17 it's more likely that I didn't respond to the tablets at all but am (probably?) going to ovulate on my own.

So despite apparently not responding to treatment we may be in with a chance anyway! Proceeding to OPKs, day 21 progesterone blood test etc. etc.

Fingers crossed.

Big day

2010-09-15T10:10:00.004+01:00

Today my daughter started nursery.

Aged 3 and a quarter, looking gorgeous in her uniform, we walked her there and her teacher showed us round. She was quite nervous at first but once she got to the water tray, put on an apron and started adding plastic fish she was fine. We said goodbye and left her to her new adventures.

I really don't have a baby any more.

I don't yet accept I won't ever mother a baby again. Maybe, maybe not. I still have a gap in my life where our second child would have been. But for now we are celebrating our firstborn's new independence.

I think we're feeling the change just as much as she is. Listening to music at home, I teared up at the lyrics from Matchbox 20 - I think I've already lost you, I think you're already gone... feels like you're already leaving, feels like your hand is on the door.

All I can think right now is, "Only 90 minutes left til we can go and get her back!"

Follicle tracking scan 1

2010-09-10T16:59:00.005+01:00

Polycystic under-response.

Not totally unexpected and so not too disappointing. I'm thinking of this as the data gathering stage rather than active pregnancy acheivement. We now know that 50mg is almost certainly not going to do the trick.

I was lucky enough to meet Dr R. again for the scan. She was sympathetic and undaunted about the fact that my endometrial layer was thin, there were multiple cysts on both sides and the largest follicle was 8mm on the right. As we are aiming for at least one, if not two, at 17mm+ before ovualtion becomes likely this is essentially a non-response.

To be honest I would have been totally shocked to respond to the initial dose, especially at day 11. If I ovulate at all, my temperature charts suggest that this is usually about day 30. I'm going back for a rescan on the 16th but the most likely outcome is we will forget about this cycle and try again on 100mg.

I had the usual moments of comedy I somehow always experience on these occasions - such as there being two waiting rooms and me being in the wrong one, and there being nowhere to put my underwear when I got changed (I was standing there, knicks in hand, thinking 'now what?'). I wonder if this type of thing only happens to me!

Two other memories stick out particularly strongly. The first was being shown the screen and told, "You have many cysts on both sides. Many many." PCOS many I think she meant, as opposed to normal many.

The second was the question "And with your daughter you got pregnant on your own?" Not forgetting that we have conceived naturally twice, it's just that we only got to the end of the road once. So it can happen. It's just taking a while. But it makes me even more grateful that we have our daughter to console us and immunise us against despair.

I am sure we are going to get there in the end.

Bring on round 2!

Time travel

2010-09-02T16:58:00.003+01:00

Had the magical experience today of being transported back in time by about 12 years.

While visiting friends in our old university city, I walked through campus to where my college was before they knocked it down and replaced it with townhouse style accommodation for today's students. Where the old porters' lodge used to be there is a new office with huge automatic doors. As they silently swept open I was left breathless at the simultaneous familiarity and strangeness of the scene.

It was a brilliantly sunny afternoon and while the paths and buildings were totally new, the layout was achingly recognisable. Two pieces of music jumped into my mind.

Firstly, the memory of well-meaning friends setting up my husband and I before we had our first date (lots of people suddenly disappearing and leaving us alone together while someone played 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight?' from the next room!). And then a bit further on, right under where my window used to be, I could hear from the past him whistling a tune from Walton's Facade which he used to do to let me know he was on his way.

We stood together on a patch of grass which was once the steps where we hugged after the first time we went out together. As we watched our daughter running about in the sunshine, I realised that after enough time everything comes right in the end.

Is it just me...

2010-09-01T19:43:00.005+01:00

Is it just me, or does hospital administration make this whole process much more stressful than it already is?

My paperwork says "On day one of your cycle, call this number to book your follicle tracking. Do not start taking clomiphene until you have spoken to one of the fertility nurses."

In the last 48 hours I have discovered what this really means...

"On day one of your cycle, call this number repeatedly and get a generic 'This extension is unavailable, please leave a message.' Leave one message in the morning and one in the afternoon, while calling the number a few times (per hour) just to check whether anyone ever answers. They don't.

On day two of your cycle, unable to start treatment until someone returns your calls, phone the number further down the instruction list which is supposed to be used only to book a post-ovlation progesterone test. Feel somewhat reassured that this answerphone does refer to the reproductive medicine unit. Leave another message.

A few hours later, call the switchboard just to check whether there's anyone actually in the building. Be slightly patronised by a receptionist who tells you no nurses were in yesterday(!), but one will call you back if you've left a message on the second number (not the first, which was the one you were told to call). Call one more time at 3pm because you're feeling twitchy but restrain yourself from leaving another message.

At 4.30, unable to wait any longer, go to the supermarket to shop. Take call from fertility nurse while standing in a frozen food aisle. Accept a tracking scan appointment when you know you'll have to cancel a big meeting. Go home, take the tablet and finally start to unwind."

All it would take is for the hospital to be clear about which number to ring (a fairly fundamental step), and to state clearly that you should leave a message and someone will call you back within 48 hours. Then I could have got on with my life instead of not being sure I was doing the right thing.

But never mind, we're on the road.

I have a feeling we have learned a valuable lesson about coping with the process as much as the diagnosis - it's never as simple as you think!

The two week wait that wasn't

2010-08-28T09:33:00.002+01:00

12 dpo. For once I'm not stressed out with waiting, or even having to work hard not to be.

After getting my HSG on cycle day 17 (as they only do appointments on Wednesdays and were fully booked on day 10) we decided that we were taking a month off. No point worrying what the impact is of sloshing dye around when ovulation could potentially only be a few days later.

So now I am just waiting. I wish I could say I was excited or looking forward to moving on to clomid next week. But I really don't feel anything about it at all. A switch has flicked in me that has paused all my emotions and the most enthusiastic I can be at the moment is to think "what will be will be."

Productive day

2010-08-20T21:19:00.003+01:00

It makes such a difference to have a day where at the end of it you've made some progress!

Today I have got a free eye test, been assessed for contact lenses, successfully put them in and taken them out (twice), bought some for a trial period, renewed my phone contract to get a free handset, had lunch with colleagues, bought some specialist chocolates for our BBQ with friends tomorrow, cleaned the bathroom and learned how to use said new phone.

So now I feel like I don't have to acheive anything at all for a few days : )

Happy weekend x

Becalmed

2010-08-17T18:54:00.002+01:00

I haven't blogged much in the last few weeks. Not much is happening and thinking about things too much makes me impatient.

Things I am waiting for:

- my trip up north to see friends and family (two weeks to go)

- next cycle to move on to clomid (hopefully early September)

- my psychologist appointments to come through (any time between now and November)

- Christmas. No honestly, I absolutely love it and we are making plans already!

- Baby. Obviously.

The word that came to me when being frustrated by waiting (and if you have read this blog for a while you will know I am really bad at waiting!) was becalmed. I imagine myself in a boat stationary in a calm blue sea with no movement. I am at a complete standstill and feel isolated, almost marooned.

Hmmm. Not really practising my new rule about contentment, am I? So how can I find contentment in the middle of all this waiting?

Perhaps becalmed is a good word after all, in the sense of peaceful. If I can 'wait well', I will be able to rest and recharge. I can use the quiet time to energise myself. I'm not really saying I'd rather be waiting in a storm, am I?

Think tranquil and serene, not stuck and restless.

Sounds easy. So why is it so hard?

Beautiful lavender

2010-08-11T20:25:00.002+01:00

I walked through the lavender garden this morning on my way to work and it was just gorgeous. I wish I'd had my camera with me. It was only 7.30; cool and fresh but sunny. It reminded me that every day is a brand new start and that felt good.

In other news, my psychotherapy assessment was yesterday. I filled in the self assessment at the weekend and when I told my husband I had indicators of depression he just looked at me and said, "Of course. You've been like that for over a year." Hadn't looked at it that way before. But he may have a point.

The psychologist was very kind. Just talking about the last year and a half all in one go was upsetting but she said not to be too hard on myself. She was certain the talking therapy will help. She did say that sometimes "just relaxing in itself can make things happen" with regards to infertility but I'll let her off in the context of other helpful things she said! Now waiting for them to write to me and tell me what they can offer.

So what with therapy in the offing and waiting to start the first clomid cycle, things are moving forward on all fronts - just have to remember to stay positive and see the process as a means to an end. Happy, healthy me and pregnant by Christmas? You never know...

All clear

2010-08-04T11:57:00.002+01:00

Today’s update: HSG over and done with, all clear, on to the clomid.

It really wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be, though I’m relieved I won’t have to do it again and that the results were clear. The main things I would have liked to be able to reassure myself beforehand would be:

1. Be prepared for it to hurt – but not too much

I took diclofenac 90 mins before (prescribed when I was referred) and topped it up with one paracetamol and codeine tablet 20 mins before. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but it only really hurt for about a minute at the end when they were forcing through the last of the dye. The nursing assistant was standing by to rub my arm and speak soothingly to me for the minute when I was wincing so I expect that it’s normal for that to happen. Any doctor who tells you pain relief isn’t necessary is (in my opinion) wrong.

2. Accept that it will be undignified and don’t worry about feeling embarrassed

I hate this type of thing but the two doctors were very sympathetic . The only man in the room was the technician tucked away in the corner. I tried to physically relax even though I felt nervous which seemed to help. Got a little bit of comic relief when the two doctors didn’t seem to know what to do with the drape. They put it over me, across me and finally under my legs which involved a bit of self-conscious wriggling about. This was a bit ironic as the purpose of the drape is supposed to make the process a bit more dignified!

3. It’s all worth it in the long run

The whole thing took about 15 minutes, from changing into the fetching gown to walking out with the answers. I had to sign the consent form, then it took a few minutes to get set up. The dye insertion was a bit uncomfortable but I was able to see the images on the screen which was really interesting and a good distraction. The worst bit was the bit at the end but it was over quickly. Very minor cramping afterwards but in the context of journeying hopefully to baby #2 it’s nothing to worry about.

So next step, “hurry up and wait” for the next cycle, call up to book the monitoring scans and start popping the pills!

The dream

2010-08-03T17:16:00.002+01:00

Last night I had that dream again. The “I’m pregnant” one.

Dream-Me was happily wandering around, cuddling the bump and telling people about being 31 weeks pregnant and how exciting it all was. I felt the baby kick.

At this point a self-defence mechanism leapt into action and Real-Me had to intervene.

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, but I really don’t think you can be pregnant. I know I’m asleep and everything but I’m pretty sure that it’s been a big theme over the last 18 months. Sometimes it’s been more or less the whole point. Not being pregnant. Sorry.”

I woke up.

I would say I hate that dream, but I don’t. It’s waking up that gets me.

But on the plus side I definitely feel stronger for it. I’m less nervous about tomorrow’s test and more confident that I’m doing the right thing.

For a glorious second I was pregnant again and it felt amazingly good. Today I am certain that my desire to have another baby is not about repressed grief, escapism or greed. I want to be pregnant again. Give birth, raise another child, support him or her on their incredible journey. Make my husband a daddy again, and my daughter someone’s fabulous big sister.

I’ve been given another burst of commitment and energy and something that I’ve been struggling for – hope.

Contentment

2010-08-02T17:56:00.003+01:00

When I was a little girl, my mum made a hand painted sign for our home which read "I have learned whatever state I am therewith to be content." The text is from Philippians ch 4 v 12. I have been dwelling on this a lot lately and I realise now that there are two words here I never really got to grips with.

Firstly, content.

Not happy, joyful, ecstatic, merry, or delighted. I think contentment is more about being satisfied with whatever you have and at ease in your situation. It doesn't mean everything is fine or even that you should never try and make things better. But I think I'm causing myself a lot of unhappiness and frustration by not considering that maybe I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be at the moment and for now I need to accept that.

Secondly, learned.

I'm coming to the conclusion that contentment is not an expectation or a right. I suppose it takes practice and perseverance. It's closely related to the other great virtue I have trouble with perfecting... patience. So the lessons set before me years ago still need to be learned.

My dad still teases me that I never memorised my times tables as a child because I couldn't see the point - there would always be calculators, right? Looking back, contentment and patience were two more things I didn't value enough at the time to get good at. While I continue on the well worn path of "hurry up and wait", I'm going to try and revisit these lessons and see what this new approach brings.

And maybe I should brush up on my times tables as well while I'm at it!

Meerkats

2010-07-28T18:35:00.003+01:00

Happy birthday to my dear husband, with thanks for being fabulous every day of the year!

Here is the card from my daughter to her daddy which made us smile.

Saturday serenity

2010-07-24T10:10:00.002+01:00

I love Saturdays.

It’s the one day of the week with no commitments. I’m not saying schedules and responsibilities are bad – it’s just that having one day a week without them helps me feel more balanced and recharges my batteries ready for the week ahead.

This week I’ve made a special effort to bring that Saturday feeling forward a bit. The list of lovely things below have helped a lot. I’m going to try and remember to refer back to them next time I need a bit of extra peace.

Feel free to add any of your own favourite tips to relax below : )

Happy Saturday!

1. My husband bought me some roses in sunshine colours – peach, orangey and yellow. I put them in my bedroom and see them first thing in the morning. I’m smiling just thinking about them.

2. I treated myself to a praline macaroon at Patisserie Paul. Crispy meringue on the outside and fudgey on the inside. Only recommended for those with a sweet tooth!

3. Hot bubble baths – preferably scented bubbles.

4. I had lunch with some former colleagues yesterday and reminded myself that work is not all about work!

5. Listening to ‘The Lark Ascending’ by Vaughn Williams. A perfect way to shut my eyes for 15 minutes of bliss.

6. Reading my book of promises. This is a notebook I keep by my bed and whenever I come across a Bible verse which speaks to me I write it down. That way, when things are tough and it’s hard to read a devotional, seek comfort or pray, I’ve got a short cut to the messages of peace God has already placed in my heart.

7. Enjoying things I won’t be able to do if/when I get pregnant (Stilton, pate, wine, sleeping comfortably etc.)

8. Listing blessings – I’m amazed at how easy it was to write this list! Sometimes perspective can really help.

I know some people won’t be in a place right now where it’s so easy to find comfort. I hope that you also find your way to some peace in your situation, or at least a time of rest and healing.

HSG - how was it for you?

2010-07-22T18:36:00.002+01:00

Now I’m booked in for an HSG in two weeks I’ve naturally been finding out a bit more about it. I’m eternally grateful to the lovely women who bothered to post their experiences on various websites. They have convinced me it was somewhat naive to assume I’d be popping into work straight afterwards.

From people who’ve said it was no big deal to the poor woman who ended up with a perforated uterus, I’ve read them all. So my question tonight to anyone who’s experienced this procedure is how did you find it? I’m also interested in what sort of pain relief is offered. I’ve been prescribed diclofenac to take an hour before, so I’m guessing it’s not going to be a walk in the park.

Comments welcome below, and thank you.

************
PS Many thanks for all the kind words following yesterday’s post about my woes at work. Sure enough not only am I doing much better, but my boss has said nothing whatsoever about it. She has been very sympathetic and smiley today. Perhaps something to do with the fact she’s leaving tomorrow, but either way I’m relieved to be back on track again! I really appreciate that people took time to comment and leave support when I was going through a rough patch.

Oops

2010-07-21T22:28:00.003+01:00

Things have gone slightly off the rails.

(To any newcomers from ICLW, welcome! If you want a calm introduction rather than being launched straight into this chaotic tale, please read yesterday’s post.)

I was setting my objectives for my new post with my boss yesterday when she said she didn’t think I could handle it all on top of fertility treatment and that I was “more emotional than she’d ever seen me.”

After the meeting I ended up crying in the bathroom for about 20 minutes and then going home. I accept this was irrefutable evidence for her statement! But bearing in mind all this stuff has been going on for nearly a year and a half and she only sees it now because I told her about it last week (to explain why I need time off for the HSG next month), I don’t think it can have been that bad. Or am I in denial?

I totally accept that people go through far worse things than me, and handle it much better. Some of them may be reading this blog and wondering what I'm making such a fuss about! But this is my life, my circumstances and my struggle and I’m sick of feeling guilty about how I deal with it. There is no problem with my performance at work, she made that clear. It’s just I feel like she’s decided I am not able to carry on doing a good job with all this emotional baggage.

She walked out with me and gave me a hug but also said “Now are you sure you’re not just running away?” Scary stuff from the woman who’s in charge of judging my work performance. I told her I just needed a day to pull myself together, which is how I’ve handled the rare occasions this has happened to me before.

I rang in this morning to confirm I wouldn’t be in today and she asked me if “anything had changed”. Yes, that’s right, I woke up this morning and it turned out I hadn’t lost my baby last year after all and actually I’m pregnant again too! No, nothing has changed. One day, that’s all I need.

I went to the doctor to get some advice on how to handle all this better, and he was helpful. He suggested time off work (not an option at the moment) and referred me to a psychologist (hopefully this will placate my boss if I decide to tell her about it).

On the plus side, I hope seeing a psychologist will be genuinely a helpful move. I appreciate my boss’s honesty. I’m grateful I’m in a position where I feel secure enough to get help which I probably need.

But sometimes I feel terrible and need a bit of extra support, and then it resolves itself. I haven’t needed to take a day off for this reason for over a year, and direct confrontation doesn’t help. The end of each cycle is a crunch point for me, and I’ve just started a new post which isn’t easy. I think I just made a mistake in confiding personal stuff in a work context, which has triggered an association between the two that I’m finding unhelpful.

My boss is actually about to leave, so soon I’ll have to tell a brand new person about why I’m popping off to the hospital on a regular basis. But if this has taught me anything, it is to be less open about my day to day reality. Work is a whole other world and from now on I’m not going to bring my personal life into it any more than necessary.

As I expected, I feel much better today – these things just take a bit of time and I have not had a spell like this for over a year. So I’m writing it off as bad timing and going in tomorrow like nothing happened.

But prayers for a huge dose of grace would be much appreciated!

July ICLW starts in the morning!

2010-07-20T18:33:00.003+01:00

Welcome to visitors from International Comment Leaving Week! (If this means nothing to you, you can find out more by clicking here.) Feel free to make yourselves at home and enjoy the flowers.

Briefly, my story and the reason for this blog is as follows:

I’m 30 and have a fabulous husband and a beautiful 3 year old daughter. We decided to start trying to grow our family in May 2008. Our smooth road got bumpy in February 2009 when I lost my second pregnancy at 7 weeks. Over a year later we are not much further on but still hopeful.

Today is CD2, otherwise known as HSG-minus-15!

I am still sad that our last cycle without intervention didn’t work out but at least now we are moving forward. I’m trying to keep positive about potentially painful tests and upcoming clomid cycles. If that’s what it takes, that’s what we’ll do.

Thanks for stopping by. Have a great week!

Peace

2010-07-17T17:43:00.005+01:00

The road is feeling less bumpy.

I have decided not to blog about things at work, except to say that much of the stresses of the last few weeks have been work related. The 2 week wait coming on top of that has been hard to cope with and the uncertainty of getting (or even needing) an HSG appointment didn't help.

As a 'transient insomniac' - or rather a girl who has trouble sleeping sometimes and loves a label (!) - I was unsurprised to be awake between 1.30 and 6.30am on Wednesday. I decided to work from home that day, and also take a day's leave on Friday to help rebalance and it seems to have done the trick.

I also called the hospital for my HSG and managed to get an appointment on 4 August. Here's hoping it will become unnecessary and I'll get some good news this week. But at least I'm ready for the next step if not.

Once on the upswing again, it's funny how things feel like they're coming back together. And on top of the general improvement in circumstances, I had such a wonderful day today. It was a true memory maker and something to keep me going if the next few weeks get tough.

I am at my parents' house with my daughter for a long weekend and met up with a friend from school. She has just come back from three years in Taiwan and in two weeks she and her fiancé are off to Morocco for two years. Their wedding is in December.

We met for coffee, which became a long lunch, which became a wander round the town we grew up in. It was a perfect mix of the light hearted adolescent living-in-the-moment, and the reflective serenity of confidence in who we are now. We chatted about small things and big issues, personal triumphs and griefs, and revelled in the comfort of a true and matured friendship. It was magical.

I wanted to buy her a little wedding present as well as put some money towards her honeymoon, which is what they've asked for. As they are moving around so much this was refused, but when she saw a ring she loved we went halves on it. Then as we were rushing back to meet our dads who were picking us up – so like old times! - she dived into a bookshop and bought me a book she was describing to me as one she thinks I would love.

As I get caught up in the difficult things in my life at the moment, it's wonderful to have moments of sunshine too.

Intermission

2010-07-13T19:09:00.001+01:00

Things are not going that well. Nothing catastrophic, just tough. I don’t really feel even like blogging about it (which is a first for me!).

So rather than a long silence or a gloomy post, I leave you instead with some beautiful words from the book of Job which are carrying me through.

“If you devote your heart to Him and stretch out your hands to Him... you will stand firm and without fear. You will surely forget your trouble, recalling it only as waters gone by. Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning. You will be secure, because there is hope.”

Things I didn't know

2010-07-10T16:14:00.003+01:00

1. Appendicitis at aged seven may mean that my right fallopian tube was damaged during surgery. It’s possible I’ve always been 50% less likely to conceive.

2. Prolonged post natal bleeding (in my case 4 months) possibly meant undiagnosed complications that could be hindering attempts to get baby #2.

The reason these things have come to the front of my mind is we just received the summary letter from our consultant appointment a few weeks ago. The balance between clinical accuracy and sensitivity reaffirmed my admiration of Dr. R. Of all the things we told her, the two points above jumped out of the letter at me.

So there is a possibility that this HSG won’t be a formality after all.

My life will become much easier if our last attempt without medication this month is successful. But if not, at least there is a plan... and hopefully some answers, even if they aren’t ones I want to hear.

What you won’t hear on Radio 4

2010-07-08T08:42:00.002+01:00

And now the Ovulation Forecast, issued at 0842 today.

There are warnings of mood swings in SE1 today as unpredictable conditions continue.

BBT high, London, 36.43, increasing rapidly, expected to top 36.5 by 0700 tomorrow.

Thames. CD33. Pessimism veering towards optimism, 4 or 5, occasionally 6 later. Risk of tears. Positivity moderate or good.

Long term forecast uncertain.

F.O.D.

2010-07-07T22:28:00.001+01:00

The other day I met up with a colleague who I hadn’t seen for over a year. We were chatting over a drink, discussing my daughter and her two adorable sons (one aged 3, the other 18 months). She asked me if I’d had another child since we spoke...

OK, fair question, but don’t you think I would have mentioned it?

Cue a light hearted comment from me about how we were going to wait and see, there was no rush etc. etc. lying through my teeth because this was not the time or the place for a rehash of the last two years of increasing sadness, the loss of my second pregnancy and the difficult road to any kind of emotional balance (however precarious it may be).

“Oh I see, you’ve decided that one’s enough!”

No actually. But never mind. I’m not going to over-react or hold this against her. It’s just she’s assuming I’ve been blessed with being fertile on demand – F.O.D. as I’ve decided to call it.

My experience with “FODs” is that they have the exact number of babies they want, when they want them. You can tell a FOD from comments like:

“Oh, my husband just has to look at me and I get pregnant!”

“Well, number three was a bit of an accident – we weren’t really trying or anything.”

And of course, “When are you two going to have a(nother) baby?”

I dread to think how many people I could have inadvertently hurt while I was on the FOD side of the fence. It’s so easy to do the Facebook pregnancy, scan photos in Christmas cards, assume-everyone-who-isn’t-pregnant-doesn’t-want-to-be thing.

Whether or not I have another child, I am always going to remember what it’s like to feel the way I do now. Hopefully this will keep me alert to the pitfalls of assuming everyone else is FOD!

Our life in numbers

2010-07-06T18:52:00.002+01:00

Together: 11.6 years

Lovers: 10.3 years

Married: 6 years

Parents: 3.1 years

Grieving (but recovering): 1.3 years

Seeking help: 2 months

Time until next steps: 1.2 months?

Earliest possible due date from treatment: May 2011

Earliest possible due date if we get lucky on our own!: March 2011

Ideal family size: 3 children (we live in hope)

Secrets

2010-07-04T14:26:00.004+01:00

When I started blogging I had no intention of telling anyone. It was my therapy, and a way to make contact with people in similar situations. Then a good friend mentioned his own personal blog and we swapped details. So he and his wife were now readers, but they were people I was sharing most of my story with anyway so I was more than happy about it.
Then my husband got interested too and he checks back every now and then. I also ask him about certain things before I post them – it’s his story too after all : )

Next came a slight tactical error on my part; I told the spangaroonies story to my daughter’s godfather. Unsurprisingly this made my blog very easy to google! He wrote me a beautiful email, wishing me well, to let me know he had discovered my secret.

As it happens, I’m pleased that these particular people know about my blog (hello you three, if you’re reading this!). We are all close friends of long standing and it’s surprisingly comforting to have certain people on your side without having to go through the process of re-telling a difficult story over and over.

But it brings up some interesting points for me:

1. Does knowing that my friends may read what I write influence what I say?
2. Are there people I definitely wouldn’t want to read this blog?
3. Will there come a point when I actually want to tell people about it?

This is a very honest and beneficial space for me and I’m happy to talk about it if asked. But I won’t be advertising it to friends and family any time soon.

If you know me in real life, welcome to my other world! Feel free to make yourselves at home and please think kindly of what you may learn about me.

Any bloggers out there with stories about whether they keep their blog secret? ... or how they got found out?

Focussing on the journey, not the destination

2010-07-01T18:49:00.002+01:00

Good words:
Spontaneous, romantic, loving, post-candle-lit-dinner, pre-lazy-lie-in, joyful, exhilarating, honeysuckle-scented, special, adventurous, uninterrupted, delightful, powerful, exciting, intense, passionate, soundproofed, fulfilling, uninhibited, spine-tingling... fun.

Bad words:
Perfunctory, cold, midweek, do-we-have-to, timed, silent, distant, reserved, make-or-break, uneasy, last-chance, indifferent, apathetic, impersonal, remote, obligatory, awkward, tense, stressful... unsuccessful.

Whatever happens babywise, we need to frame it within our wonderfully happy marriage. It’s easy to become so consumed by where we’re heading that we forget how to get there. So for now, as far as possible on this crazy journey, we are aiming for the top list. Anything else is just a bonus.

Unexpected loveliness

2010-06-29T18:50:00.001+01:00

Today something unusual and totally unexpected happened. It was so impulsive yet so minor that I was surprised by how much difference it made to my day.

So what was this lovely treat? I went out for lunch. That’s all! I got back from a morning conference and discovered I’d forgotten to bring my sandwich with me from home. I was pretty cross, and for a minute I contemplated going without. But then I decided to nip out to my favourite Italian place just down the road from the Old Vic and make the most of the circumstances.

It was fantastic. The luxury and sophistication of eating out alone; the ritual stirring of the cappuccino foam, savouring the bitter coffee and sweet chocolate scents; the decadence of delicious ravioli in a creamy amaretto sauce – it all put the thought of an afternoon in the office in a whole new light!

I got such a disproportionate amount of enjoyment from it, simply because it was unanticipated. I really appreciated having the freedom of choosing to do something just for me, just because.

So I’ve decided that this is how I’m going to manage my seemingly long wait for baby-related results. My budget won’t stretch to indulgence on the spur of the moment too often. But once in a while I am going to find reasons to celebrate the uneventful, and live life as I find it rather than how I think it ought to be.

Mellow Monday

2010-06-28T20:04:00.003+01:00

Wimbledon. Strawberries. Sunshine.

Not bad for a Monday : )

Baby steps

2010-06-27T21:51:00.003+01:00

I’m trying to work out exactly how I feel now that I’m on the path of medical intervention to get baby #2.

I am excited about getting concrete answers from an HSG test and then boosting our chances through medication. My hopes had dropped pretty low after two years of trying and only a miscarriage to show for it. Now I feel this year could really be the one.

There’s also disappointment that we haven’t been able to just succeed. Our daughter came along almost as soon as we decided we were ready for her. Why does it have to be this difficult? And why does it all take so long?

My hospital only undertakes HSGs on Wednesdays. So I could wait this cycle out (maybe as long as another 3.5 weeks), try and book the test but not get on the list. That means another cycle delay – potentially 6+ more weeks, and even then not being certain of getting an appointment.

After the test is done we wait for that cycle to finish too, then call up for ‘permission’ to start the clomid. As the first cycle is monitored I can’t just pop the pills and hope for the best! I’ll book in ultrasounds and a blood test for the first cycle. After that, if no problems but no baby, we get to go home and spend up to five more cycles trying with the medication.

It’s easy to get bogged down in the delays (I’ve mentioned before how much I hate waiting!). But I do see that this is such a big step forwards. I have been scraping the barrel for hope during the last few months, and the possibility of giving up altogether seemed real for the first time. I recognise I am just feeling the anticlimax of a great result from my consultation last week followed by a long wait to put the plan into action.

I’m going to try and relax. I can’t let the burden of the whole process overwhelm me today. One step at a time. This morning I walked through the lavender garden in the park and saw the first faint blush of blue. These gorgeous flowers bloom from about now until October. Soon they’ll be flourishing again.

I’m going to put it in that perspective – I’m entering a new phase, one from which I shouldn’t expect results before the lavender fades.

Anniversary

2010-06-26T13:10:00.003+01:00

Today is our 6th wedding anniversary!

As I sit here thinking about that wonderful day, flashes of memory return. The nerves and the laughter; the car that was late and the amazing music that was perfectly in time; the overcast weather and the warmth and joy of friends and family rejoicing with us.

It was not technically a perfect day - don’t talk to me about absent hairdressers, vehicles in garages with no tyres, or the orders of service showing our vows which said M was going to be my wife! But it all worked out so beautifully, just like the grey skies I mourned when I woke up which gave a flawless soft focus to our photos.

All the difficulties and niggles were overcome and swept away in a whirl of excitement, love and support from our friends. It was a celebration in the greatest sense. Best of all, I was joined to my soul mate forever.

I couldn’t have wished for a better day, but I couldn’t have created and controlled it to turn out just the way it did. We planned and prepared as much as we could but ultimately much of it was out of our hands.

Seeing how well it turned out, I am hopeful that I can apply the same principle to our lives six years later, and step out in confidence and faith to meet whatever comes our way.

Blog counter

2010-06-26T09:15:00.001+01:00

I'm experimenting with a blog counter - proper post to follow later!

I have a cunning plan...

2010-06-24T00:57:00.006+01:00

This morning I had never heard of Dr R - tonight she may be my favourite person in the world! Well, in the top ten at least.

Thank you so much to the people who have followed me over the last few weeks when my incessant blogging has been such a great way to try and diffuse my nervousness about our fertility consultation today (well yesterday now, it’s got quite late!). For those who are keen to hear all the details, these will be included below. But for people who would rather just have the summary, it went something like this:

Appointment was 45 minutes with the lovely Dr R, who took all our details in a sensitive and reassuring way, explained everything, answered our questions and decided that my history merits further investigation and treatment. I need to schedule an HSG in my next cycle (to check for blockages) and if all goes well, take medication to boost ovulation in the cycle after that. We have clomid in the house! With any luck I’ll be taking it by the end of the summer, and by Christmas, who knows... we might just be on the way to babyland.

And England won their World Cup match!

Great day.

******************************

I thought hard about whether blog readers would be interested in a long post about exactly what happened today. I decided to give a detailed account for two reasons. Firstly, I personally love it when someone tells their whole story (but maybe I’m just nosey!). Secondly, this blog is an important way for me to record and reflect on my own journey and I’m finding it tremendously helpful.

The summary above is your opportunity to find out the highlights and skip the rest. So anyone reading further into what I expect will be a very long post, you have been warned!

I decided I would take the whole day off work, even though our appointment wasn’t until 3pm. I was in such a flutter, and I was supposed to be chairing a meeting at 1pm which would not have been a good idea given how worried I would be. So I asked a colleague to cover my meeting, and told my boss I wouldn’t be coming in after all.

It was a good move, and meant I felt much more relaxed as we set off. By ‘more relaxed’, I mean only feeling sick, scared and like I was about to sit a very important exam without having studied or revised at all!

M was far more chilled about the whole thing, even though it meant he would miss a vital World Cup football match. That’s love for you! He was so calm in fact that he announced he intended to treat himself to a burger on the way in. I was so tense I couldn’t even manage a single chip.

We wound our way through the labyrinth which is any major hospital, and presented ourselves at reception. The waiting room was almost full, mostly couples, and the England match was on in the corner. The male members of the party seemed greatly relieved by this. How inconsiderate of us womenfolk not to have realised two months ago when we made the appointment what a blunder it was to have picked this particular afternoon ; )

A nurse called me in alone and took my blood pressure, height and weight. “How are you feeling, today?” she chirped merrily. “Quite nervous,” I replied, looking pointedly at the blood pressure cuff.

“First consultation is it? Well, I’ll know what to think if the reading is high... goodness look at that, 154/85. That is quite high. Never mind, we know why, don’t we?”

My weak smile concealed my real thoughts... if you know that this is a stressful situation, why take my blood pressure??

Back to the waiting room (still 0-0 in South Africa), and other couples were called. Each of the consultants came out personally and calmly walked their charges away. Every one seemed relatively young and very kind, my two favourite qualities – or prejudices depending on how you look at it!

At 3.15 it was our turn. Dr R appeared; a friendly and cheerful woman who instantly inspired confidence and started to make me feel this might not be so bad. She whisked us off to a consulting room and started off with a few easy ice-breakers – names, address, dates of birth; things we could warm up with before getting down to the more serious questions.

Well, in the end it was completely painless. We breezed through contact details, medical histories, and our story of how we ended up in this room. With amazing tact and aplomb, Dr R broached even the most potentially difficult subjects. Topics such as “Have you made any other ladies pregnant before?” and “Any previous history of sexual infections?” were skilfully blended with the more mundane queries about rubella immunity and abdominal surgery.

As a reward for being brilliant (in so many ways), M did get the “Mr. Super-sperm” award after all. Apparently it’s rare to have such a high count. Although he hid it extremely well, I think he felt quite proud!

Dr R gently talked me through the circumstances of my miscarriage, with just the right combination of apology, sympathy and professional detachment. It made the whole thing feel distant but not irrelevant; regrettable but not overwhelming.

Then, before I really had time to grasp how much ground we had covered, she reached the end of her questions. I had been so hung up on whether or not I would “qualify” for a diagnosis of polycystic ovary syndrome, I couldn’t believe it when she just matter of factly said my cycle pattern and other indicators meant I was probably ovulating but not all the time.

She recommended ovulation induction with medicine which would increase our chances of pregnancy, and just to be on the safe side I should have a hysterosalpingogram (HSG). This would involve injecting special dye into my uterus and seeing on a real time X-ray how much “spilled out” into my abdomen, showing whether there were any problems with the fallopian tubes. Never thought I’d be pleased to hear such a drastic recommendation!

We asked all our questions and then were ready to go. I was armed with the phone number to call to make the HSG appointment on day one of my next cycle, another number to call to set up the clomid monitoring for the cycle after that, and a set of hospital only prescriptions.

We are now well equipped to battle the infertility monster with the heavy guns.

My arsenal included five prescriptions, and some quite complicated instructions:

1. An antibiotic to take the night before the HSG. And by ‘take’, I do not mean swallow.

2. A painkiller to ‘take’ one hour before the procedure.

Not too thrilled by this. But on the other hand, my only other experience of this kind of medication was immediately after my daughter was born, when it was the only way to take the edge off pain that wasn’t touched by two local anaesthetic injections and puffing on gas and air for all I was worth. Must be good stuff!

3. A course of antibiotics for the week after the HSG, to minimise the small risk of infection.

4. A course of medicine to shock my body into a period, so I can get a move on with all this and not wait for my next cycle to begin naturally.

Bit controversial this, and it’s only an option. I was in two minds about it and Dr R went straight to the rescue. “You don’t have to decide now, I’ll write the prescription and you can choose whether or not to fill it.” Actually, even though I did get the tablets in the end, I think we’ll give it one more go 'naturally' this month and then move on to the HSG without trying to speed things up. It’s only a few more weeks, and because I had the choice I think I can be patient. Only ground rule is of course to be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that I’m not pregnant when they fill me up with chemicals – hence having to wait until beginning of next cycle.

5. ((Drum roll please...)) 30 tablets of clomiphene citrate, aka clomid, 50mg.

So about 40 minutes later we were on our way. In the end, we waited longer in the hospital pharmacy for the drugs than we did for the whole consultation. As an added bonus, two of the scripts were free (the painkillers, don’t know why but I’m not complaining!) so I only paid three charges... a grand total of £21.60. Thank you, Lord, for the National Health Service.

All being well, I will be able to make an appointment for the HSG in 3-4 weeks, and be on a monitored clomid cycle 5-6 weeks after that. I will be monitored with ultrasound (to make sure I don’t end up with octuplets) and blood tests (to guarantee that the lazy ovaries are doing their job properly) for one or two cycles. Then, when they are happy I’m on the right dose, I can keep going for a while and see what happens.

I came home with everything I had wanted – answers, reassurance, a plan and some real tools to make it happen. I am not so naive as to ignore the risks; side effects, bad reactions to tests, emotional rollercoaster and potential disappointment and heartbreak once again. But I have walked this path on such bad days that I am definitely going to appreciate the things that go well.

The weather was so beautiful today and our bedroom was full of the scent of honeysuckle when we got home. Our babysitter had bought us some wonderful chocolates. And England beat Slovenia 1-0.

Surely the omens can’t get much better than that!

Best case/worst case

2010-06-22T23:53:00.001+01:00

Tomorrow is the big day. What I really want is a sympathetic doctor and a plan. So my best case outcome is some sort of finding which indicates I should try medication for a few cycles. Worst case is “I’m sorry we can’t find anything/do anything/help you until you lose (more) weight.”

I have just been searching for blogs of other women in my situation, but all I could find was posts saying “Sorry I haven’t blogged for a while, the twins are such a handful.” Honestly, I looked at eight or nine and they were all parenting again except one. So not helpful for me in terms of what to expect tomorrow, but definitely hopeful!

Many of these stories were like mine at the beginning – one quick baby followed by a long wait. And lots of these women had multiple losses or many negative treatments before success. I won’t put all my hopes on tomorrow and I know that it could still be a long tough journey.

But somehow I’m actually starting to believe again that there could be a baby at the end of all this.

When normal is great ... and not so great

2010-06-21T20:15:00.002+01:00

Test results back today. Diagnosis was normozoospermia for hubby – hurrah! I think he was hoping for a sentence reading “Good news, you are Mr. Super-sperm” but that’s not how they record the results. “Normal” is as good as it gets.

I am so relieved. I felt sick walking home today worrying about what would happen if things were about to get even more complicated. On the other hand, I feel ambivalent about my blood test results. Everything is normal. Clearly that’s great ... but then WHY am I not pregnant??

In 2007 I was told an ultrasound indicated polycystic ovary syndrome. Now I am wondering if this is the case. I know it sounds mad but I am counting on having PCOS, in order to get a clear way forward. I want something where they can say, “You have this. Therefore we can do this, this and that to sort it out.”

As I understand it, there are three indicators for PCOS. One is abnormal blood test result (nope), a second is irregular periods (yes), and the third is polycystic ovaries on ultrasound. A diagnosis needs two out of three. So if they scan me on Wednesday and don’t find anything then I just have terrible cycles for no obvious reason.

Oh well, one step at a time.

In other news, work is getting more tricky at just the wrong time. I am being transferred to a new team, partly to sort out some performance issues there. This is a great compliment but I am hoping it won’t trigger a whole lot of new problems for me just when I am trying to cope with this lack-of-baby stuff. I am also really grumpy about the idea of what people will think if I were to get pregnant - “Oh, she just did that because she was transferred into a more difficult job and wanted a get-out clause.”

That’s right people, I could get pregnant whenever I like but decided to spring it on you now for my own convenience... I wish it were that easy! On the other hand, if I do get pregnant I will be so over the moon I won’t care what anyone thinks because it will be completely irrelevant. What a great problem that would be to have! Talk about counting chickens. I am really looking forward to this phase of the waiting being over.

43 hours and counting.

The waiting room

2010-06-20T09:23:00.004+01:00

It's been three months since I started blogging and I'm really glad I did. It has been a very therapeutic step. I have been able to think through things as I type rather than suppressing how I feel. I have been able to go back and reflect on what I wrote a while ago and see how my journey is developing over time. I'm taking small steps in joining up with the blogging community and I even have a few followers! Hi, guys! ((Cheery wave))

One huge bonus has been able to connect with people going through similar experiences. It's so hard to talk to friends about what I feel, especially when even the most kind and sympathetic can't speak from a position of knowing what it's like. Here I can share without being nervous, without building barriers between the truth and what I'm comfortable talking about. I have been able to give a little comfort (I hope) to people who are in the darker places on the road, places I remember very well and which may lie in wait for me again.

I don't follow a huge number of blogs but each one means a lot to me. I choose ones where I feel a connection to the writer and where their story resonates in some way with me. Some of "my" ladies, travelling this path much longer than me, have been sharing their IVF stories. I have so much respect for these wonderful women and how they are managing the ups and downs of their challenges. Secondary infertility is hard enough for me to cope with, but I have the incredible comfort of holding my daughter in my arms and knowing that if it all comes to an end I will always have her. (Please God, don't ever let me lose her.)

Over the last few months something amazing has happened - three IVF bloggers I follow have become pregnant, two of them with twins! It has been an incredible privilege to follow and I hope everyone else at different stages gets to this point soon too.

But at the back of my mind has been a real sadness. I couldn't put my finger on it at first and was afraid I might be jealous - not at all how I want to feel! I think I have now figured it out... I just don't want to be left "in the waiting room."

Once pregnancy is achieved you are on the move, with a set timetable that has an inevitability about it one way or the other. But until that day I am still waiting, going in circles, unsure about when or if this is ever going to happen. Each setback is a fresh disappointment, and leaves me in a state which has been described elsewhere as "constantly grieving."

I have said before that I am bad at waiting. Indefinite waiting is even worse. I remember being told as a child "patience is a virtue, and if not possessed it can be acquired." I didn't like hearing it then and nothing's changed!

So three cheers for those whose patience, determination and courage has paid off. And for those of us still in the waiting room, I hope we can continue to find ways to make the best of it. Maybe the next ticket out will be ours.

Diminishing returns

2010-06-19T11:04:00.002+01:00

During the week, I usually try to be at my desk by 9.30. Not such a difficult challenge given it only means getting up by 8.15, walking to work, getting changed and logging on within an hour and a quarter.

But I've always been a night owl by preference. I find the Monday to Friday pattern of forcing myself to bed earlier than I feel, making myself get up in the morning, and leaving my family before they are properly awake a bit tiresome. By the middle of the week I'm usually pretty weary, as not falling asleep til late and then operating in a bit of a daze until 10 or 11am doesn't really suit me.

The other day I had no meetings and nothing especially urgent to do. I let myself lie in until the real aversion to getting up had passed. I snuggled with my daughter for a few extra minutes and chatted with her about how she was planning to spend her day. I didn't rush myself. I ate breakfast and checked my blog list (most of the blogs I follow are in North America so updates often come in overnight). I felt very calm and relaxed and set off in a much better mood.

What time did I get to my desk ...? 9.50am. All those extras had cost me only 20 minutes but it made such a difference.

I thought about what this might be saying to me about my quest for baby #2. (You know me - any thoughts, no matter how random, all come back to babies in the end!) What are anxiety, timing, temperature taking, and unhappiness costing me? And are they really helping me on the way to my goal? Could it be that I'm actually making it worse for myself?

Actually, I don't entirely think so. If the results of our tests reveal we need extra help, clearly it doesn't matter how much we follow the interminable advice from the well-meaning people who say "just relax". Secondary infertility needs some help, and the steps I take make me feel a bit more in control.

But the "joy stealers" which make this part of my life affect everything else need to be watched! I think it's fine to feel unhappy about things, but not to the extent that I give up on the good things and stop enjoying what I have.

Perhaps small concessions, 20 minutes of selfishness every now and then, will make a much bigger difference than I think.

Now I just have to convince my boss ; )

What shall I do about Alison?

2010-06-17T16:56:00.001+01:00

Bit of an odd (and slightly neurotic) problem has been weighing on my mind.

For Christmas 2008 my husband bought me a CD I really wanted – Alison Balsom playing a range of beautiful solo trumpet pieces, including a fantastic one I saw her perform live at the Albert Hall. I didn’t quite get round to listening to it but was looking forward to it.

In January I found out I was pregnant and thought “Great, the first time I listen to it I’ll be pregnant!” But then I lost the baby. Cut to 16 months later and I still haven’t played it. Because I’m supposed to be pregnant when I listen to it for the first time, you see.

So now I have got myself in a ridiculous situation where I have quarantined a perfectly good CD, even though I would like to hear it. This also opens me up to unpredictable sadness whenever a track from it comes up on the radio (luckily quite rare but it does happen now and then).

Listening to it would sort out the mental block once and for all, but it would also feel like giving up. I associate this with accepting baby #2 isn’t going to happen for us, and I’m not there yet. What I really need is a better feeling for how likely it is and if/when it’s going to happen.

As nervous as I’m getting about our hospital appointment next week, my Alison dilemma is ultimately just another sign that the time has come to get some proper answers – whatever they might reveal.

Waxing lyrical*

2010-06-16T19:30:00.004+01:00

Since the invention of the ipod, I am able to keep a constant soundtrack to my life playing when I am on the move. My shuffle is full of music I love, collected from my late teenage years onwards.

Over the last few days certain lyrics and phrases have been catching in my subconscious.

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance/ For the break that will make it OK/ There's always some reason to feel not good enough/ And it's hard at the end of the day.

The places that used to fit me/Cannot hold the things I’ve learned/Those roads were closed off to me/While my back was turned.

I stepped out in a sunlit grove /Although deep down I wished it would rain/ Washing away all the sadness and tears/ That will never fall so heavily again.

You're making lists today of all the things you haven't done yet/ You're driving everyone crazy, are you having any fun yet?

One thing I have learned over the last year or so is that no feelings are wrong, but how you react to them makes a big difference. So the pensive, anxious and melancholic vibes that are seeping out of the music and into my emotions are valid, but I can choose to refocus and stay in control to keep from becoming gloomy and introverted.

So I choose now to dwell on the positive and celebrate the songs that uplift me and make me want to dance, not fall.

I feel the sweetness of His love/ Piercing my darkness/ I see the bright morning sun/ As it ushers in His joyful gladness.

The river of God sets our feet dancing/ The river of God fills our hearts with cheer / The river of God fills our mouths with laughter/ And we rejoice for the river is here.

I've crossed lines of words and wire and both have cut me deep/ I've been frozen out and I've been on fire and the tears are mine to weep/ Now I can cry until I laugh and laugh until I cry/ So cut the deck right in half, I'll play from either side.

I don’t think it’s as simple as either sorrow or joy. There is room for both sets of emotions. To end in the true spirit of embracing the sadness but enveloping it with hope, I can’t express it better than the words which first led me to this train of thought;

All of the happiness you seek/ All of the joy for which you pray/ It’s closer than you think/ It’s just 100 tears away.

*With thanks to Sarah McLachlan, Sara Groves, Diana Krall, Mary Chapin Carpenter (x2), Ron Kenoly, Andy Parks and Vonda Shepard.

Linguistic challenge

2010-06-15T19:18:00.003+01:00

I once read an article about child development saying that humans start off with a flexible and creative approach to life, which over time tends to become restricted by convention and repetition to a more limited world view. Children are the opposite of caterpillars growing into butterflies – we train them to be less free and imaginative as they grow. The evidence for this presents itself whenever small children do or say things that would never cross an adult’s mind.

The other day my husband baked some delicious scones for our tea. As he hails from the north west of England, he will pronounce this delicacy as scone – rhymes with gone. A born and bred southerner, I would always call it a scone – sounds like stone.

So in a teasing way, he taught our three year old to say “s-gone”. The following conversation took place when I came home;

Me: “What does Daddy call these?”

Daughter: “Scones” (like gone)

Me: “What does Mummy call them?”

Daughter: “Scones” (like stone)

Me: “And what do you call them?”

Long pause and cheeky grin.

Daughter: “Spangaroonies!”

A born linguist and diplomat in the making!

The last hurdle

2010-06-14T19:41:00.002+01:00

After a month waiting for our slot to get the test done, I found myself on the way to the hospital this morning with a sample of hubby’s finest in my coat pocket. I can’t understand why they don’t accept samples more often than one hour a day, three days a week. No pressure or anything, but you can only turn up between 9-10am on Monday, Wednesday or Friday morning and you have to book an appointment more than four weeks ahead of time.

I can see that you couldn’t just drop in randomly as the test is so time sensitive. There has to be some control so that the lab technicians are on standby. But they could make things simpler. It definitely adds to the stress knowing this is your one shot to get the test done without waiting another month. Especially when the referral form you have to take in gets lost the night before, causing the bedroom being turned upside-down to track it down and almost triggering an intense fight... but that’s another story!

As the hospital is five minutes from where I work, I was on delivery duty. I got on the bus to make sure I arrived within one hour as directed. The referral letter gave the location of the cytopathology department and I got to roughly the right place with no trouble.

The first surprise was that the department is actually called something else – GST Pathology 5 or something similar. I did locate a small sign by the lift saying “For cytopathology, go to GST Pathology 5” but it begs the question why they don’t put the same title on the letter! I then wandered through corridors, luckily reaching a security door at the same time someone was coming the other way. I eventually found the office where you’re supposed to give your name thanks to a helpful secretary.

The receptionist checked off hubby’s name on her list (had a spot of bother finding it as the appointment was booked over the phone and they had written down a random surname nothing like ours – luckily the first name, DOB and doctor’s name was a match and this was convincing enough). She looked at me a bit strangely and said she would accompany me to the waiting room. I soon realised she was being kind as I was the only woman in the place and she hadn’t made me walk in on my own. This didn’t bother me at all but I think some of the chaps were a bit surprised!

After about 10 minutes I was called to see the receiving nurse. I got the same startled look from her as I did from the receptionist – “hold on, you’re a woman!” – but she checked the forms and said everything was OK. Results go back to the GP in two weeks. Scarily, we will have been to the consultant before that, but I’m sure they’ll be able to access the results for us then.

I was so nervous about today as it was the last thing to do before we go for our appointment. There was no reason it wouldn’t be straightforward and everything was fine. I am just looking forward to all this being over, and at least getting to the point where we have more answers than endless questions.

A while ago, my husband asked, “Would it be easier on you if there was something that needed fixing with me too – that way it would be both of us?” I was so touched that he was thinking of how to make this difficult process and sense of ongoing failure less challenging for me. But of course I ultimately want all this to have the best chance of working out for us, so I need as few barriers as possible.

Swim boys swim!

Lectionary comes up trumps

2010-06-13T13:58:00.001+01:00

As our fertility consultant appointment at the hospital gets closer (10 days to go), the feelings of unease and anxiety are starting to build again. So it was very reassuring to find the following in today’s readings at church.

From Romans:
“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it... in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently... [and] the Spirit helps us in our weakness."

And from Luke’s gospel:
“Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest... Seek His Kingdom, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

I know that Paul in particular was making a very different point to the one I am taking from these words. I don’t believe that God is giving me a cast-iron guarantee that everything is suddenly going to become easy and work out the way I want. But I am now reminded that although I’m not in control, someone is. While we do our best to “wait patiently” we have all the help we need if we remember to ask for it.

If ever a prayer for reassurance was answered, mine has been today.

UPDATE: Turns out these aren’t the traditional lectionary readings for today at all! My church chose them specially for a themed service about creation. Perfect timing for me : )

Simple pleasures

2010-06-12T11:47:00.002+01:00

Have just eaten home-made cinnamon French toast with Canadian maple syrup. Somtimes it's the simplest things that start the day off well!

Mmm-mmmmm.

Moving the goalposts

2010-06-11T18:51:00.001+01:00

Today my daughter ran to me when I got home from work and announced she had gone to the toilet all on her own; turned on the light, climbed up, wiped and redressed herself, pressed the button and washed her hands. “Well done, what a big girl,” I said automatically.

But wait a minute! This is something we have been working towards for over two years, and today it is achieved. She is constantly telling me she is not a baby now but a big girl. Her steps towards independence are totally mindblowing when three years ago she was a helpless bundle who could only cry, feed, wiggle and sleep.

Now she can sing, dance, spell, ‘read’ (or rather recite), chat, feed herself, dress herself (in a manner of speaking!), empathise, make me laugh, invent stories, mimic, play the piano (OK I’m exaggerating a bit), influence her environment, express preferences, throw a tantrum, control her tantrums, make jokes, entertain herself, love unconditionally, do thousands of other amazing things ... and go to the loo by herself.

How did I miss these miracles developing right before my eyes? Partly because of the incremental nature of day to day life. But partly because our adult-centric world makes light of all these achievements. Before a milestone is even reached we are frustrated that it hasn’t happened yet. Each little triumph is belittled because there’s so much more to do.

So I will remember her childlike joy at each accomplishment, celebrate every day’s progress and support her right to be a child – who she is and when she is. Living in the moment is a skill I need to learn, and I couldn’t have a better teacher.

My radioactive rose

2010-06-10T19:13:00.002+01:00

My daughter went to hospital today to have a scan of her kidneys. She has a slight defect which leaves her prone to infections and the consultant wanted to make sure there isn’t any scarring. She was so brave and I was incredibly proud of her.

One thing that really struck me was her unshakable faith in me. As the imaging unit, which was almost bigger than she was, began to descend over her for the fourth scan she became nervous. I don’t blame her – it’s a lot to ask a three year old not to worry when a large box starts coming towards you when you are securely fixed to a table with Velcro straps and have already been lying as still as you can for more than half an hour. She asked me “It’s not going to touch me, is it?”

“No darling, it will come quite close and then stop.”

The machine whirred some more and continued to descend. “It’s going to stop, isn’t it mummy?” “Yes, sweetheart. It won’t touch you. Just lie still.”

And she did. My beautiful flower lay still and reached out to hold my hand. We had taken her to a big building where a needle had been put in her arm and radioactive chemicals pumped into her. She had then followed us to a room full of enormous equipment, let herself be secured on a bed while machines moved round her and came invasively close to her face. But at my word she was prepared to believe me and relax.

I was almost overwhelmed by the privilege of her trust. It was a moment of piercing insight into the precious link between us. Our relationship has led us to a place where I can make even a scary experience manageable for her because I’m her mother.

I hope I’ll be able to create this bond with another child one day soon.

Looking both ways

2010-06-08T19:58:00.002+01:00

Two very different experiences in the last few days made me think about how I feel about being newly 30.

On Saturday, I went to a hen party for a friend getting married at the end of July. The girls were mostly a few years younger than me with not many other mums among them. I gracefully retired from the celebrations at 10pm, when they reached the sambuca shots phase before heading on to a club to dance the night away. I had a great time but felt a real sense that this is a stage of my life I have definitely outgrown.

Then on Monday I attended the first meeting of a new book club I have been invited to join by a former colleague. It was held in her beautiful apartment overlooking the Thames with a stunning view of Tower Bridge. In this group I’m one of the youngest and the pleasure I got from the sophistication of the evening had the opposite effect to the fun I had on Saturday. This time I felt a bit like a child allowed to stay up late and play with the big girls!

Both evenings were fun and I really enjoyed each one. I got a perspective of being perfectly in the middle, looking back at my younger self and forward to different adventures as I get older (and hopefully richer!). It was great to see myself in this more balanced way instead of just thinking of getting older as missing opportunities and leaving things behind.

Opportunity is a key word this month – today I had CD3 blood tests before the appointment with the consultant in two weeks. Hopefully I will soon get a clearer idea if one of the exciting things about my thirties will be another child of our own. But either way, I am really enjoying the realisation that I don’t have to regret the past or rush into the future.

Today, everything is good.

Recovery

2010-06-05T10:12:00.004+01:00

Three signs I am somehow much better;

1. When on holiday I held my daughter and god daughter on my lap at the same time. The baby is exactly the same age my second child would have been. I just felt a bit reflective when the realisation hit me that this is what it would have been like. Not long ago even the thought of cuddling them both would have had me in floods of tears.

2. I heard the other day that a friend who moved to Vienna last year is expecting in a few weeks. This was someone who commiserated with me last autumn when both of us were still waiting for second babies to come along. She must have conceived right after our conversation! Instead of burning jealousy I just thought "good for her."

3. I had the privilege of cuddling an eight week old little girl in the park yesterday while her mum (a friend from when our first daughters were born) went off to push her older girl on the swings. It was the first time I have been alone with a baby since my miscarriage, so I didn't have to be all brave and light hearted about everything. I had a little chat with her about how lucky she was to be here and how I was hoping my daughter would have a little brother or sister soon too. Got a bit sniffly but no tears.

It's so good to be coming back to real life!

30!

2010-06-03T16:56:00.004+01:00

Lots of things have changed since I last wrote in my blog. I am now 30, and my little girl has turned 3. We had a wonderful holiday in Cyprus and really relaxed for the first time in a long time.

I have decided to change tack, hence the new colour and tone of the blog - no more dark blue background! Time to be hopeful and cheery and enjoy all the fantastic things in my life I've been overlooking.

And if the hospital appointment on the 23rd eventually leads us to another child, that will be an amazing bonus.

Holiday

2010-05-21T09:07:00.001+01:00

Several things have been worrying me this week.

I am supposed to have a blood test at 7dpo but my unpredictable cycle means I have no idea when this will be. We are having a one month break from ttc but I’m already thinking “What if this is the month? We can’t miss it!”

Fitting in tests, and anxiety about what the outcomes will be, is far more stressful than I imagined. I see in my head a consultant shaking his head and saying they can’t find any reason for what we’re going through and that we just have to live with it.

I’m meeting up with a dear friend from school on Monday but I seriously thought about cancelling because I’m worried I won’t be able to be happy and cheerful in the presence of her bump ... on my birthday.

Even our holiday next week is leaving me thinking about money and passports, risk of cancellation due to the ash clouds and wouldn’t it be easier to just stay home?

So what to do? Relax. In truth it seems like the holiday is coming just in time to save my sanity. I will enjoy every minute, leave behind the things that are bothering me and celebrate what I have. I will talk babies with my friend and rejoice for her that her daughter is on her way into the world in a few months.

I will accept the kindness and love of others and try to get it into my head that I don’t need to be in control of everything all the time.

Happy holidays!

“Come to a quiet place and get some rest.”

My list

2010-05-14T22:12:00.001+01:00

I was chatting with a friend this evening and asked about how one of her friends, who I know slightly, was getting on.

“Oh, she’s doing well. They had their 20 week scan and everything’s OK.”

Sigh, another pregnancy. I am genuinely thrilled for this lovely girl, especially as she had a miscarriage last year and last I heard was still waiting for her longed-for first child. It was so tough for her as she is a midwife and spends her working life bringing children into the world for other families to take home. I know she will be a fantastic mother.

But she wasn’t on my list. The secret list in my head of people I know will be pregnant soon so I’m prepared for the news. So hearing it like that was hard. And if people who lost pregnancies after me are now pregnant again, and well on the way to getting their babies, it just emphasises the feeling that I must be broken.

Had a little weep on the way home. I’m really looking forward to when it’s finally my turn.

“Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.”

Emeralds

2010-05-09T13:16:00.001+01:00

My darling husband asked me the other day what I’d like for my 30th birthday in a few weeks. I don’t really have anything particular in mind and was thrilled when he said he’d been thinking about buying me jewellery as a special memento.

I have since spent a long time looking at white gold pendants with emeralds (the birthstone for May), amethysts (I love purple), or diamonds (no reason required!). It has been great fun but I’ve found myself looking at more and more expensive ones. A little voice in my head says “I really want that one, I deserve it, things have been hard, cost doesn’t matter, I want... I want ...”

Frankly I’m a bit taken aback by my own level of greed! But deep down I know my wanting isn’t really about pretty sparkly things at all. Even the most splendid necklace in the world isn’t going to satisfy the wanting.

This morning I bumped into some friends, one of whom has recently lost her second child to stillbirth at 21 weeks. The other is supporting his wife through a serious illness. The three of us were chatting away, all hiding a lot of unspoken pain. It made me feel incredibly sad. But we were all getting on with our lives and doing the best we can. I think I will get a lot of hope and strength from that over the coming weeks.

Birthday celebrations and fun with friends and family will go a long way to reminding me that there is a lot of joy as well as sadness if I choose to look for it.

“Suffering leads to perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

The angry girl

2010-05-03T09:48:00.002+01:00

I had been feeling quite proud of myself these last few days. I’m not pregnant (again) but that’s just another step on the road. I’ve kept calm, kept going and am still moving forward.

Until a passing stranger made a random hurtful remark to me. I was stunned by the wave of absolute fury that washed over me. For at least twenty minutes, though outwardly calm, I raged. This feeling is quite alien to me – I’m not an angry person usually and I felt shocked by how powerfully the emotion had taken hold. Back home the reaction set in and I snapped and shouted, becoming a nightmare to be around for the rest of the evening.

Finally I got a grip and got back in control. It became pretty obvious that a thoughtless comment from some poor person who had no idea of the reaction they had caused was not really the problem. I am just angry. Angry, disappointed, confused, fed up and exhausted. It’s just not fair.

No-one ever said life was fair. Not everything can go my way. I am not going to give in and become bitter – it would be so ungrateful.

I feel glad I’ve had a chance to be angry. I imagine the angry me as an important friend I had lost contact with, but now I’ve taken her out for a coffee, let her shout, given her a hug and promised to keep in touch! I’m not going to pretend that side of me isn’t there, or that I can somehow make this journey without being affected by it. But I can choose not to let one part of my life spoil the rest.

I am sure the angry girl will come back. She keeps me in balance and I won’t disown her. I’m just going to try to stop her breaking my things when she visits!

"It is better to be patient than to be a warrior.”

Thunder and rainbows

2010-05-01T05:08:00.002+01:00

It’s 4.30am. I can’t sleep, and for once it has nothing to do with babies, pregnancy or new life.

A friend of mine was diagnosed last July with lung cancer. I am in awe of how bravely she has decided to carry on living life to the full. Throughout six months of chemotherapy with all its doubts and uncertainties she has celebrated the victories and accepted the defeats with grace, courage and not a little humour. Now she has to decide whether to do it all over again.

Having made significant headway and started to win her fight, she has now found out that the cancer is active again and beginning to spread. Her hard-won progress is being eroded and although she’s not back where she started things aren’t going in the right direction.

My heart is aching for her, her lovely husband and their three year old son. I do not know why this has happened to them – indeed why this happens to anyone. I so want to help and don’t know how.

The diagnosis was such a shock, and this news is another. She has so many things going for her but has not been given an easy path to travel. A phrase from a song by Martyn Joseph has been running through my head since I spoke to her; “Ambiguous answers, the question still why/Thunder and rainbows from the same sky.”

What can any of us do, for each other and for ourselves?

As I stare at these words I get a hazy impression of an answer. Celebrate every good thing, try not to get too absorbed in the negative, be as brave as we can, cry when it helps. Share the love and joys in our lives as much as we can and never give up hope.

“I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.”

Rollercoaster

2010-04-28T13:08:00.003+01:00

Today has been strange. I have had more ups and downs in a few hours than I normally get in a whole cycle.

Firstly, temperature still up. Good. Next, some bleeding. Bad. I did not experience implantation bleeding in either of my previous pregnancies but I’ve had luteal phase (post-ovulation) spotting in every negative cycle.

So I’ve had enough. I decide this cycle is a bust and, as discussed with my doctor in October, I am going back for tests. The six months extra waiting is up and I’m going to get some help. I call my surgery but apparently my GP is on sabbatical. For a year.

What?! I have waited six months to go back to this sympathetic expert who knows me and my circumstances and who has already made early plans with me about how to tackle this. I had prepared myself for having to wait a bit if he was on holiday or something, but not for this.

Still on the phone digesting this news, I’m offered an appointment in less than 90 minutes time with Dr H. I don’t know this person, and for me personality is the most important thing – I need someone who basically is going to be kind as well as clever! But the locum who’s covering my doctor’s absence doesn’t start til next week and I’ve geared myself up now so I make the appointment.

I end up getting the bus so as not to be late, even though the surgery is only 15 minutes walk away. Deep down I’m incredibly pleased to be there so quickly but I don’t like uncertainty. I don’t know if Dr H is male or female, old or young. My limited experience is that age is crucial – older docs are more inclined to just tell you to get on with it. I sit in the waiting room (recently refurbished I notice) and wonder if I’m doing the right thing.

I am called. Dr H is a man in his late 30s – phew. I start off explaining why I’m there and get as far as the words “miscarriage last year” before I start crying. This is approximately 17 seconds into the consultation...

Well, he was great. He listened to what I had to say, wrote some notes and luckily had a ready supply of tissues for the copious tears. The consultation was interrupted twice by staff needing his urgent opinion but he is incredibly apologetic about this, and very short with the second person who calls, telling them he’s dealing with a very sensitive matter and will be with them shortly. I am not bothered by this – I once had a blood pressure reading interrupted by an “urgent message” calling a doctor out of the room which turned out to be about his wife’s birthday cake!

Outcome of all this is I now have a form enabling me to go and book online at a choice of local hospitals, on a date of my choice, to see the fertility specialists. Waiting times between 2 and 7 weeks, depending on where I want to go. I opt for the longer wait because it’s the hospital I know.

I tell Dr H I need a month off before taking things further as I’m completely worn out. He takes this to mean I’m seeking a sick note and starts writing me a medical certificate for 4 weeks off work due to stress! I explain I only mean a month off from trying for a baby. Think I might have really missed a trick there : )

I also have a form for a post ovulation blood test to check progesterone, FSH/LH, prolactin and thyroid function. My reason for the test is described as ‘subfertility’.

I am strangely comforted to have a label. I feel I’m being taken seriously and have a plan. My husband should also get a test done before the appointment as it’s one of the first things they’ll ask about so best to get it done and out of the way. Luckily I’ve already warned him that this was a possibility.

So I leave in a much more positive frame of mind. There is a plan. I am back in control, on some level at least. My faith in the health service is completely vindicated. I can relax and see what happens.

And here’s the kicker – there’s still a small chance I could be pregnant this time and all of this will be unnecessary. But I’m sure anyone who’s been through something similar will agree that it’s better to know what you’re going to do before a set back occurs.

Now back to waiting.

“Let us not be weary, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Ten things

2010-04-26T18:18:00.001+01:00

Waiting is hard. I’m particularly bad at it and I’ve felt very emotional over the last few days. (“Pregnancy symptoms?” thinks a hopeful voice in my head; “Pre-menstrual more like” scoffs another.)

So a quick fix for the blues – list ten things that have made me happy or thankful recently. Right, here goes:

1. Swimming strenuously for half an hour and enjoying the feeling of being supported and in control.

2. Listening to a beautiful piece of music.

3. Biting into a hot squidgy brownie with vanilla ice cream on top.

4. Having a chat with a friend and feeling understood.

5. Inhaling the fragrance of blossom and magnolia in the park.

6. Picnicking in glorious sunshine.

7. Lying in bed with a good book.

8. Anticipating a wonderful holiday in a few weeks' time.

9. Knowing that I have a fabulous husband and a wonderful daughter and thinking about all the love in our family.

10. Imagining how I’ll feel this time next week if ...

Let’s leave it there.

“Give thanks in all circumstances.”

Schrödinger’s cat

2010-04-22T19:28:00.002+01:00

A famous physicist once considered a strange phenomenon in quantum mechanics - that particles could be in more than one state until they were observed. Explaining this strange idea, he used the analogy of a cat shut in a box for an hour with a bottle of poison that had a 50% chance of breaking, releasing its deadly contents and killing the cat. Bizarrely, the cat could be said to be both alive and dead until the box was opened and the truth revealed.

I’m back in the weird duality of the two week wait. Either I have conceived and am about to be pregnant ... or not. There’s nothing I can do now to change it. And until it’s time to test I feel a bit like the cat – in both states until I find out which is true. I swing about from being convinced this is it, to being certain it’s not going to happen.

Now I know my chances aren’t as good as 50:50. But I’m very tempted to think there’s no reason why I shouldn’t have been lucky this time. I’m young and healthy, have done all the right things and have been pregnant twice in the last four years after all. People get pregnant ALL THE TIME. Why not me? Why not now?

I’m still much more relaxed (or at least less unhappy) than I have been for a long time. I am preparing for both excitement and disappointment. I am trying to turn off the bit of my brain that insists on doing ‘pregnancy maths’, calculating the due date, when I would have scans, when I would be on maternity leave. I know I risk being more upset if I let my mind wonder down that tantalising path and still end up back where I started. But this time I’m going to try and enjoy the uncertainty, and feel a little bit pregnant. Even if it’s just until I open the box.

Ten days to go.

[P.S. No cats were harmed during the creation of this blog entry : )]

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”

Spring

2010-04-17T10:25:00.002+01:00

In this last week I have not only enjoyed the real beginning of spring; blossom and sunshine and warmth. I’ve also somehow felt less consumed by baby-centric thinking. Two more babies have been born to friends and it hasn’t hurt as much. I have been more accepting that I’m on the right path no matter where it leads. My joy of being with my daughter has been less diminished by a longing for another child.

I don’t know if it’s sunlight therapy at work, the passing of time taking the sting out of my loss, or an improvement brought about by my decision to go back to the doctor next month if nothing happens. But it has really helped me enjoy life more.

Warmer weather has meant a haircut, a new wardrobe and really enjoying my walk to work instead of feeling obliged to make it in grey, cold and damp conditions. Work has become less busy since a big project came to an end (even though this week has been pretty tough, I’ve still felt more in control). A colleague complimented me on losing weight, and I was able to smile and say thanks - without launching into how it’s all because I’m experiencing secondary infertility and I’ve got to take off some weight to be sure that’s not the problem.

Somehow I feel less like I’m struggling. I’m sailing again, not being caught in rapids about to dash me over a waterfall. I feel more peaceful; like I’m taking deep breaths instead of anxiously holding my breath. I’m held, not abandoned.

Maybe I’m coming out of the darkness, or maybe it will be back with a vengeance at the next setback. But either I’ll keep feeling this way, or it will be a beacon to look back on with relief and gratitude.

“Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”