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
Because I told him. And he was about as amazing about it as I could have hoped he might be. And now writing about all this feels a bit weird, because I’m not just writing about me and something that affects me. I know I’m anonymous, and by extension so is he, but it feels like I don’t have the right to talk about how he reacted in any detail. It’s not just my story any more. Continue reading
I started writing about the biopsy that’s part of The Plan but then someone asked recently if I was going to give costs for all this and so I thought I’d do a quick one on that. If I’m honest, this was a post I’d been intending to do, but I think I’d rather put it off, not just because I didn’t want to horrify myself, but also because in my heart of hearts I wanted to do it at a point that seemed to mark a final point, like, I dunno, when I had a baby in my hands (mine rather than just anyone else’s) but it probably makes sense to give you an idea of what I’ve spent so far. Continue reading
I know that sounds ridiculous, I mean it actually sounds like it doesn’t mean anything at all, but it’s another of those things that I’m trying to live by in a bid not to drive myself mad during these two weeks. Because otherwise you’d go loopy.
Otherwise, you, might, for example, when you’ve got five minutes before you need to leave the house and you still haven’t done your makeup, find yourself at your computer googling “3dp3dt spotting” 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
Rather as I predicted, in my own head at least, little victories are often followed by little disappointments. Three days after the eggs were fertilised, only one was suitable quality for being transferred. It was a good embryo, they told me, eight-cells, grade 1 — they don’t get better than that, they told me. But the others, ah yes, the others — 3-cell, 5-cell and 6-cell with a lot of fragmentation.
I don’t really know what any of that actually means, apart from Continue reading
I just realised, in the same way that I’ve realised in real life, that up until this point I’ve been fine jabbering away about things, but now shit just got real. (I said that ironically, OK? In a pseudo-American accent. Don’t think I’m one of those people who say “shit just got real” in a deadpan way. I’m not.)
Anyway, what I mean by that is that this is all so timed, in that if you ovulate on this day, then your eggs and the sperm are defrosted Continue reading