In November 2013, at the open day of the clinic I eventually decided to freeze my eggs with, I was waiting for my consultation with the medical director, and idly texting a friend who I’d told about my plans…
Me: How’s your Saturday going? I’m at the open morning of a fertility clinic. Beat that.
S: I could make a really Irish in-poor-taste joke.
Me: I’m all up for jokes.
S: Eggs in the morning…?
Me: Frozen or fertilised? Continue reading
Protocol: this is what they call the regime of drugs that they plan for you. They base this – apparently – on a number of things – your height and weight, the amount of bloodflow they can see going to your ovaries, your AMH results, all that sort of shiz. At least that’s what they told me, it could be that they just pluck an idea out of nowhere and go with it.
And, despite my sub-par AMH results, my scans were all good. In fact they told me that if I hadn’t told them I’d had endometriosis they’d never have known, everything looked normal. Hurrah, well done ovaries, uterus etc etc. I am, by the way, skipping over various bits of the story, like the fact that I cried Continue reading