This is . . . Different

I did my 2nd Cet.rotide shot in the kitchen today while the wee one ate dinner in his highchair - not how I remember the last cycle!

I'm also telling almost noone: immediate family, best friend, two closest friends in town and definitely not my work. I was always very honest about my treatment before but things have changed at work and I don't want any decisions to be made about what class I have next year based on the fact that I might get pregnant. Also, strangely, after 10 years of not minding, this time I feel more of a resentment that other folk get to do this the old-fashioned, private way while we have to involve a medical team and schedule it all around work. Thankfully, as I'm on a constructed cycle and with a clinic that works weekends, they can schedule transfer (should there be a transfer) for a weekend.

Bad news is that our babysitters are all away for the possible weekends. No way am I taking a toddler to the clinic - for his sake and for the sake of the other patients (just not fair!) - so my husband will drop me off & take the wee one out somewhere in the city our clinic is in and come back for me when it's done. Again, a little different from the last time when he came in and held my hand through it all. But I'm a big girl now and I am doing this cycle pretty much solo. Same will be true of high risk appointments if it works - because they're on the day CM is home with the wee one. That's fine though because its how you have to do it once you already have one child. And I just feel fantastically lucky to be in that position.

Here We Go Again!

I picked up the meds for our FET today. Gulp.

My period is due sometime this week. Transfer - if we have anything to transfer - will likely be in about 2 weeks time. We have three good embryos frozen, we will defrost all three, try to take them to day 5 and, if any of them get that far, transfer the best. If either or both of the others survive and look good enough, we will refreeze them in case this cycle doesn't work.

They may not survive the thaw. If they do, they may not survive to day 5. If they do, it may not implant (strictly single embryo transfer for this 44 year old, high-risk mum with post-birth prolapse!). If it does, it may still miscarry. Etc, etc, etc. I know what can go wrong - and I know that things can go wrong that you don't even think of.

My biggest fear is that I do get pregnant and one of us (or both) doesn't survive - but that is every mum's worst fear, isn't it? There are many others, involving health, money, stamina, work and family. The last time, I felt like I had nothing to lose - this time it feels like everything. I am happy, mostly. I am mummy to an amazing little boy - which is all I ever wanted. So why do this? I am risking it for him - to give him a sibling (a full sibling, as the embryos are from the same batch as him - although I am less and less convinced that this matters - family comes in many forms). And for them, the embryos. I am not a religious person but I cannot bring myself to sign a form and allow the embryos to "perish". They exist because of us and I feel like we owe them a chance.

I have no idea how I'm going to feel about either a BFN or a BFP. I imagine a BFN will leave me sad and disappointed but a little relieved - infertility and miscarriage has been a ten year journey and I am ready for it to be over. A BFP might be exciting but terrifying. Who knows?! Let's wait and see . . .

The Small Things

The friend I wrote about back in July of 2012 - the one who had been trying even longer than us and was finally pregnant - is in hospital being induced right now.

She went in on Saturday and, as of last night, had not had the baby yet. I'm jumping at every text alert, checking Facebook obsessively and wondering if today is the day she finally gets to hold her child. It's my dad's 77th birthday today and it's also my best friend's birthday so I reckon 6th March is a good day for this very welcome little one to arrive.

I'm thinking back to my own experience of childbirth and becoming a mum (so far, quite similar to hers) and how it took me a while to feel the joy of it. I kind of hinted at this to her - I wish someone had told me that it was normal to find the first few months so hard. Needless to say, I wondered if it was me, if I was too old, too late, whether it was the fact I'd used donor eggs. Actually, it just turned out I was really tired and slightly in shock. As time went by, I settled in to it all and one day found that it really was wonderful after all - extraordinarily hard work but wonderful too.

As the two years and two months have gone by since my son's birth, sometimes the big things have felt slightly flat. First Christmas - both of us ill and me in crisis with my work. First birthday - same holiday, same issues. First trip away - I slept in the bottom part of a bunk bed with him and my husband slept in another. First tooth - slightly eclipsed by the fact it was discovered during a hospital appointment that confirmed he had reflux and I'd not been aware of it. First crawl - while my husband and I were out and grandparents had him. First steps - missed those too.

What I'd like to tell my friend, I realise, is not to stress about these supposedly important events. In being a mother, it's actually the small stuff that counts: getting up at 3am to rock them back to sleep, finding the things they'll want to eat and are also good for them, that kind of thing.

And sometimes, it's the small stuff that knocks you sideways and reminds you that all of that waiting and hoping paid off.

Stepping on a piece of lego - you have toys on your floor!
Seeing little plates and cutlery with your own in the washing-up pile.
Finding that your Am.azon recommendations are full of picture books.
Hearing a wee voice calling for you as you wake in the morning.

It happened - you're a parent - at last.

You, At Two

You are two years old today. I thought of my labour last night, as I wrapped your presents - long and difficult but with the best result I could ever have hoped for.

I have been terrible at keeping note of your milestones - getting our house built and going back to work full-time (not to mention looking after you) have not been conducive to record-keeping. Luckily, your Bumpa loves to take videos, there are soooooo many photos of you from my phone, your nursery home communication diary is full of information and your mummy has a reasonably good memory.

But today, I wanted to put down some stuff to keep - I want to look back and remember . . . 

You are hard work sometimes - you have really embraced the idea of the "terrible twos" and have simultaneously developed a terrible case of "only mummy will do". There are days I want to run out of the house, jump in the car and head for the nearest coffee shop to hide for a while. As soon as I got there, of course, I would want to get back to you as quickly as I could!

A year ago, you couldn't walk. Now you run, jump, dance, climb and spin. And, wow - you on your ride-ons! Daddy and I joke about handbrake turns and wonder if you'll scare us silly with your driving.

You love technology - you want to know how things work and you want to get your hands on every item of hardware daddy and I have. Paddy the iPad is your favourite - we still get a surprise when we hear your cousin's voice in the room when he's not here and realise that you've Sk.yped him. Your almost-favourite thing to do on any device, though, is still to watch videos of cows! This is second only to sitting on Bumpa's knee, watching the videos he has made of YOU! It's the best little mutual admiration society there is.

You are the biggest procrastinator in the house. You have turned putting things off into an art form. You will deny dirty nappies, swear blind that toothbrushing has happened when it hasn't, find important things to do when tea is ready and will say "hold on" numerous times, as you nip out of bed during your bedtime story to go and find another that you think we might be persuaded to read.

Speaking of which, books are are a big love of yours. Early in 2012, when you were quite poorly, you once lay on the couch with me from 9am to 2.30pm listening to stories - you just wanted to be read to. I was almost hoarse by the time you let me put the TV on for some respite! Luckily, mummy and daddy love books too and can usually be persuaded to read another (and another and another . . . ). We are so happy that you enjoy stories.

Your speech has come on amazingly in the last 6 months. You talk mostly in sentences now and we understand a lot - though not all - of what you tell us. Your first understandable word was "kangaroo" - this was before you really called daddy anything and WAY before you called mummy anything - which, by the way, was only about 4 months ago! 

You are very funny about our names. If you call us, you start off with "mummy" or "daddy", if you don't get a response you'll progress to "MUM" or "DAD" and if that fails, you shout our actual names. You also love to recite the names of your relatives, in their family groups and not forgetting any pets.

Your family is important to you - especially your big cousins, who you adore and who adore you in return. We are so lucky that they are coming to live round the corner - we'll have some fun! "Ganny" and "Bumpa" are very adequate replacements for mummy and daddy and you spent your first overnight with them at the end of December - Granny said it was the best night's sleep she's had in ages!

Sleep - ah, yes. There's still a mattress on your floor and only very recently have mummy and daddy slept in their own bed at the same time as each other. You still take a loooong time to go to sleep sometimes, with frequent chuckings out of the dee-dee (your dummy) and attempts to engage us in conversation. And you still go through phases of waking during the night or getting up at half-past stupid o'clock. But you are much better than you were.

You are not good at sharing and the words "no" and "mine" occasionally accompanied by snatching and hitting are frequently heard during playdates with your friend V (actually, I think the term is "frienemies"). But you are also incredibly empathetic - you notice if people have hurt themselves or are sad and you want to comfort them - I love this about you. The other day, I was feeling tired and rested my head on my hand and you looked at me and said "mummy sad" and gave me a cuddle!

Which reminds me - you give the best cuddles in.the.world and lots of them. You went through a phase in the spring of cuddling all your little friends so tight it looked like you might suffocate them - but it started a trend at nursery ;-). You made your own best friend at nursery - your very own friend who you made before you were one year old and whom you love and are very loyal to. I'm sad that when you move to your new room at nursery this week, he won't be going too just yet.

Your smile is amazing. When you smile at me, everything is good. And it's not just me - I have lost count of the times people have stopped me while we're out and told me what a wonderful smile you have. One little old lady, whom you smiled at in the chemists, followed us to the traffic lights to get another and told me you had made her day! 

I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone or anything. When I tell you I love you more than life itself, I am not exaggerating. I still can't believe we finally made it - made YOU. You are worth every single moment of the time we waited for you. I am so proud of you.

Some Ramblings

I really don't have time to do this right now - there are about a million things that need my attention - but I fear that if I don't write something soon, I may never do so again. Plus, I'm a terrible procrastinator - all sorts of things suddenly look attractive when there's actual work to be done!

We have made no decision yet on whether/when to go forward with a FET with our DE frosties - I change my mind at least daily. Sadly, since my husband is still only on three days a week at work and there is no certainty that he will even have a job this time next year, money is a huge issue. We took on the house project in the same week we discovered that I was pregnant with our wee boy - we had no idea they would both come to fruition. As a result, we ended up with a huge mortgage and an expensive little bundle - childcare costs the same as our mortgage. If it were my job that was uncertain and part-time, I might consider quitting and taking the wee one out of childcare. But it's not - my job is secure and we need it. I hate the thought that money might be what makes the decision on whether we have another child but I have to be sensible about it. When layed alongside the health and age issue, it does make me wonder whether we should go ahead. Then I think of writing to ask for the embryos to be allowed to perish and I can't face that thought.

I am not enjoying being a mum that works full-time. While I would not make a great stay-at-home mum, I really liked having my Wednesdays with the boy. I think I do my job better, working full-time, but it doesn't make me a better mother and certainly not a better housewife. Our house looks like it's been overrun by dustbunnies and there are rooms that aren't entirely safe to enter, lest a teetering pile overbalance and bury you!

All that said, I feel incredibly lucky. I have an amazing son who said "Love you, mummy!" for the first time last night - words I thought I might never hear. I have a husband that I don't spend nearly enough time with but I do love him (and sometimes even like him, despite the ongoing sleep deprivation and life-stress). My parents live downstairs and, while not in their first flush and with one or two health issues, they are wearing pretty well. And, joy of joys, my sister and her family are moving to our city, to a house round the corner, four along from ours!

My sister and her husband had what I describe as a joint mid-life crisis back at the start of 2012. They have been living in London for about 15 years, maybe more, and have been planning to leave for at least half of that time. In January, they decided they were going to do something about it. In April, they packed up all their belongings, put most of them in storage, bought a trailer to hitch to the car for the rest, made sure the dog had had her rabies shots and set off for France. They had one week booked in self-catering accommodation in the north of the country and then they drove south till they found somewhere they liked and stopped. Their kids - a girl of 10 and a boy of 12 - were put into school speaking no French and have coped remarkably well. There was talk of moving on to Canada, Australia or other far away places. We used all our airmiles visiting them in October, thinking we'd better make the most of it while they were still within reach. Then, the day before we were due to set off to see them, my mother sent me a message asking if I knew that my sister had a job interview in our home city that week. I didn't! She got it and they are moving here in just over a week! 

I love my wee sister and I also adore my niece and nephew - they were born before all our miscarriages and, for a long time, I thought they were probably going to be the nearest thing I got to having my own children. My son thinks they are brilliant and they seem to think the same of him. The thought that he might grow up with them near by makes me feel a little easier with the possibility that he might be an only child.

I am counting my blessings here because it is a very difficult time for a lot of my friends right now - particularly my work friends. They are facing illness, the loss of parents, the loss of partners and partners losing jobs. This last week brought so much bad news in our workplace. It's not the easiest time of year for primary teachers. We don't so much wind down towards the holidays as get wound up, with parties, plays, activities and the general Christmas atmosphere that means that our pupils are overtired and overexcited (never a good combination!). It's extra hard, in the midst of all that, for these friends to be dealing with serious family issues and hard for others to make time to offer them help or a listening ear. But that's what we need to do - just be there for them and try to make things just a little better in any way we can.

DE Subtleties

The ALI community is an incredibly varied one.

I'm happy to say that, in real life at least, my experience of it has been of women banding together and supporting each other regardless of where they are in their journey. Before I came to the stage of looking at donor eggs, I was unaware of the maze I was entering. Sure, I knew that DE was different from DS, and harder to come by. But once we had decided that it was something we could/should do, what a lot of decisions there were! Should we accept the offers of eggs from several friends/family who were, medically speaking, bad bets? Should we approach other friends and family who were younger or had better pregnancy records to ask for their eggs? Should we join a waiting list at our local clinic for an altruistic donor (even though the consultant was very discouraging)? Should we go further afield in the UK for egg-share? Should we go abroad, where the donation would be anonymous but the wait shorter?

In the end, we went to a clinic in our part of the UK - not local, but somewhere we wouldn't have to factor in accommodation for appointments - which was the only one in Scotland doing egg-share and the only one we came across that seemed to have a waiting list you could join for DE (and combined altruistic donation and egg-share - you were offered whatever option came up when you were top of the list). Our donor turned out to be an egg-sharer.

There are some who feel that this form of DE is exploitative of women who might feel this was their only way to do IVF - that did give me pause. On the other hand, our donor had already had a child (a prerequisite for a donor at our clinic) and she'd had him by IVF (male factor, so I'm assuming ICSI), so they'd managed to afford it before and also knew the territory. Plus, there was a part of me that felt pleased that we might help someone fulfil their dream at the same time as trying to achieve ours - she had said pretty much the same thing on her form, apparently.

So I was very pleased to read this blog entry from a co-founder of the UK's Donor Conception Network which seems to echo my feelings on egg-sharing. I'm also wondering - is egg-sharing a peculiarly British thing, or are there other countries that do it to? Anyone out there know?

One Big Good Thing

I haven't done very well at keeping up with my "5 good things" posts - life is busy and that's good in itself.

I have a friend who I met through my main online infertility support group. We met IRL about 7 years ago just as we were both starting IVF treatment at the same NHS centre. She and her DH had already been trying for around 5 years, at that point, to my 2 years. They are the only IF couple that my DH and I have met up with regularly together - the 2 DHs are in the same line of work and get on well. She has tried just about everything alongside her IVF treatments - all sorts of special diets, complimentary therapies, immune treatments, genetic testing of embryos. She had one precious, short-lived biochemical pregnancy about 5 years ago and hadn't done any treatment for a couple of years. She is the same age as me - 43 - and she and her DH have spent every penny they have (and some they haven't) on treatment. They have been stalwart friends to us through our own journey - and even met up with us while I was heavily pregnant, when our son was a newborn and earlier this year when he had just started walking. Every one of those visits must have cost them, emotionally. If babies could be awarded for sheer hard work and dedication, they'd have had one a long time ago.

I got a text from my friend two weeks ago to say that they were abroad and in the middle of a donor egg cycle. I was so pleased - we'd spoken about DE before but they were uncertain. I got a message last week to say that she'd had her first ever positive pee-stick and then another message to tell me she had a really strong beta, then yet another to say the following beta had shown lovely 48 hour doubling.

She is in brand new territory - after 12 years of trying! - and taking things one day at a time, naturally. But I am ecstatically, deliriously, overwhelmingly happy for her and her DH and hoping and praying that this is FINALLY their turn.