I’m about to write another post about what I think of as the slightly boring (for you) minutiae of appointments and numbers and stuff, and I’m not really sure if this is for you or for me, or just for the sake of completeness because I’m a bit obsessive like that. If I were you, I’d be more interested in the emotional fuckwittery, but maybe you’re interested — anyway, consider yourself duly warned.
When you think about, it would be a total miracle. I mean, I know science has done everything possible to optimise the chances – I’ve been given hormones to optimise the development of my eggs; my thyroid function has been checked and tweaked; the – one assumes – weakest eggs will have been weeded out by the freezing and defrosting process; I’ve not just got any old sperm but sperm that has been rigorously – I hope – health-checked; and nobody’s left it to chance that this sperm will fertilise the eggs, Continue reading
I just realised you probably thought that this post was a reference to the fact that, as I’ve mentioned a few times before, this whole trying-to-get-preg-on-my-own type thing wasn’t exactly Plan A. Or maybe to the fact that what I’m doing is, as I’ve mentioned before, not exactly the norm within my group of predominantly hetero, predominantly married-with-children friends. But it’s not (well, it kind of is, because everything I write on this blog is basically about the same thing.) No, this is something I wanted to write before I’m actually mired in the depths of the treatment. As a marker, maybe, as a reminder of why I’m doing this. So here goes… Continue reading
I’ve been thinking this for quite a long time — in fact I feel like I probably wrote about it when I was freezing my eggs — but this whole thing from start to finish is, if you think about it, totally fucking insane. I have — to date — paid out the best part of £20,000 — twenty GRAND! And what do I have to show for it? I have taken SO MUCH on trust.
Seriously, think about it. Normally when you have medical treatment Continue reading
So, I went to the clinic, and I talked to my consultant and I had a scan, and it mostly looked fine, and so we discussed a few things, like whether we’d try IUI (Intra Uterine Insemination – or what I like to think of as PTB — Posh Turkey Baster — where you get the sperm and stick it in and hope for the best…) or IVF (In Vitro Fertilisation — where the egg and sperm meet in a test tube (actually a dish rather than a tube I think) and mix there to make the embryo which is then put inside you. Continue reading
I was recently talking to a friend of mine, who had been going through IVF, about her experiences, and she was talking about the cognitive dissonance that seems inherent in all this.
You might never have done IVF, and you might not call it cognitive dissonance, but if you’ve ever been a teenager, you’ll know what she’s on about.
Maybe it was just me (I assumed it was everyone) who, as a teenager, Continue reading
So I wrote about the fact that I was going back to the clinic on a bit of a fact-finding mission. And that’s exactly what I did. I’d made a point of booking to see the consultant that I’d really liked when I was freezing my eggs. I didn’t just trust her from a medical perspective, but from an emotional one. (She’s the one that I cried on in all of my first three consultations.) I felt like she totally understood my reasons for freezing my eggs, and she was really positive about what I was doing.
And, when I saw her, I felt totally vindicated Continue reading