I ran away in January. To a place that I didn’t associate with trying and not succeeding. Somewhere I drank wine and stopped worrying about whether I was eating enough vegetables. (I wasn’t.) Somewhere I stopped caring if food was packaged in plastic (it was), or whether the tomatoes were organic (they weren’t). Somewhere my life wasn’t measured out in blood tests and supplements and scans and injections. Where I rudelyContinue reading
I was so much more emotional about the embryo transfer than I expected to be. I guess it’s because it’s a whole year since the last one and when I think what I’ve been through in that year, and how hopeful and optimistic and excited I was this time last year, it’s hard not to feel that even getting to this point is a culmination of so many things, and yet that there is so much further to go.
I didn’t know the consultant or the nurse, but they were both so lovely, as I lay on a bed with my legs in stirrups and tears pouring down my face. Continue reading
When you read about people doing IVF (and let’s be honest, you do, don’t you? Because you’re here, and I know I’m awesome and all that but I’m guessing this isn’t the ONLY IVF blog you’re reading) or see women having IVF depicted in the media — in books, films or TV programmes, there are these classic tropes aren’t there?
You know what I mean. The woman who grits her teeth when a friend announces a pregnancy. Or wells with tears when Continue reading
I realised that in my last post I rather glossed over that crucially important point when they actually put the one good embryo inside me. Which, rather like my not spending much time thinking about the actual donor, is a little bit weird when you think about it. But then I think my reactions to so many parts of this process are weird — they definitely seem weird to other people.
Various friends asked if I wanted them to come with me for the embryo transfer. I didn’t. Continue reading
Today I cried at the clinic. Nothing had gone drastically wrong, I wasn’t hurt, nobody had been horrible to me, nobody had been unbearably kind to me. Maybe it was the hormones finally kicking in which resulted in a disproportionately emotional response, but basically I cried because I was treated like an idiot, and treated like a number, and treated like a cash cow, rather than a person.
And I’m pretty sure that the person who made me feel like that didn’t mean to make me feel like that, but it did make me think Continue reading
No, really, I have changed. Probably in lots of ways over various periods of time, but for the purposes of this post, the most significant way in which I’ve changed is the way I feel about the egg freezing cycle this time, compared to how I felt about it first time around. Maybe it’s just familiarity breeding, well, not contempt, but certainly a little less respect, or maybe it’s because I’m pretty sure that this is the last time that I’m going to do this, but various things have Continue reading
Any normal person would probably acknowledge that going on dates when you’re a) not drinking, b) full of hormones that can heighten your emotions and c) embarking on a process that is quite emotionally exhausting, is A Bad Idea. Of course it is, it’s insanity. So I can’t really explain what on earth possessed me to go on four first dates in the week that I was doing my first ever egg freezing cycle. I can only assume that it was my subconscious telling me that if I didn’t want to have to go down the donor sperm route, I should get my sorry arse out there and find the father of my children.
It being January, it was quite easy to pretend Continue reading