Why Donor Eggs, Part I

I've been trying to finish this post for two months, and not doing a great job of it. Turns out that being pregnant at 41 with health issues and working full time is not conducive to, well, anything else. So I'm going to put out what I've got so far and probably finish it off once I stop work, which should be in about 4 weeks according to the docs - just past 28 weeks.

We have been very honest about the fact that this pregnancy is thanks to donor eggs and that, of course, has raised the question of "why?". I don't have a simple answer to that question, but I want to talk about it here and I want a record of it to remind myself of the process.

Needless to say, there are two strands to the answer - the physical one and the emotional one. I may well repeat things that I have said in previous posts, but I don't remember clearly what I have and haven't said and I certainly don't think anyone reading it will, so I'm just going to stick in what's relevant.

We started trying to conceive more than seven years ago and our journey includes:
• 6 natural conceptions, all of which ended in an early loss
• 6 cycles of Clomid, all producing at least 2 follicles and all ending in BFN
• 1 IUI - BFN
• 1 straight IVF (16 eggs; 13 embryos; a grade 2, 3 cell and a grade 3, 4 cell embryo transferred on day 2; none for freezing) - BFN
• 1 ICSI with immune treatment and CGH array (5 eggs; 1 normal, resulting in a 4 cell embryo on day 3 (not sure of grade, but not great)) - BFN
• 1 IVF with donor eggs (5 eggs; 4 grade 1/2 embryos at 8-12 cells on day 3; 1 grade 1, 12 cell "perfect" embryo "on a mission" transferred on day 3; 3 frozen embryos) - BFP

And that would tell you the physical story right there! We could get pregnant on our own, at intervals of about 1 year, but it always ended around 5-7 weeks. We could NOT get pregnant on any kind of fertility treatment with my eggs - and the embryos we produced were rubbish! On the donor cycle, the embryos were great.

After loss number 6, a kind nurse in the pregnancy support unit asked if we'd considered donor eggs (not at that stage), so we spoke to our IVF consultant who agreed it might be worth a try, as did our recurrent miscarriage consultant. Everyone seemed to agree that it seemed likely that my eggs were an issue - physically, I knew that was a possibility but emotionally, I wasn't ready to consider that.

Right from the first pregnancy (the first month we tried - ha!) and loss, I had a feeling that something was not right. I had desperately wanted to get pregnant, but was not nearly as happy as I felt I should be when I found out that I was. I knew that something had gone wrong with the pregnancy, even thought the doctor assured me that losing symptoms for a while was very common. He took a blood test, I went on holiday, checked my messages at the end of day one to find an urgent message to call my GP. I phoned them and was told I should expect to miscarry at any time - it started the following morning, while we were on holiday abroad.

After another 6 months of trying (and assurances that one loss was very common and that it was a very good sign that we had got pregnant so easily) there was no 2nd pregnancy and our GP started to investigate - my hormones were OK (slight signs of PCOS) and CM's sperm analysis was also OK (not stellar on the formation front, but not bad enough to cause problems). Try some more . . . referral to infertility specialist. Two months before that appointment, I got pregnant again and lost it again. Infertility specialist refused to do any testing/treatment as I have been pregnant in the last 6 months. Marvellous!

Thankfully, I found a great GP within my practice who was prepared to refer me to the local recurrent miscarriage clinic for testing, which showed up my Factor V Leiden, which I briefly thought might be the issue - a haematologist soon cleared that up for me: 2nd and 3rd trimester losses, but nothing as early as mine. This was when we approached a private consultant and started on the Clomid.

My sister had conceived on Clomid and, although she'd had a missed miscarriage (a blighted ovum), she had, very quickly afterwards, conceived my nephew on it. I thought it was a slam dunk and so did the consultant. It wasn't! Neither was the IVF we went on to. In the meantime, I was diagnosed with PCOS, insulin resistance, low thyroid and another, non-specific clotting issue in addition to the FVL, all of which were treated. Three more natural pregnancies, three more losses. More Clomid, in combination with Metformin, more BFNs.

So, that’s the physical. As you can tell, we'd never had an issue with using medical advances in our pursuit of parenthood. By this time though, we were starting to lose faith - I had also tried homeopathy, reflexology, chinese herbs, acupuncture, nutritional testing and supplements, hypnosis and anything else I thought might give me an edge.

In terms of the emotional side, during all this treatment and time my attitude to our attempts to become parents started to gel. It's best described as follows: if you wanted a doughnut (for example), the first place you would look would be in your kitchen; if you couldn't find one there, you would go to the corner shop; if they were out, you would go to your nearest supermarket; if they didn't have what you wanted, and you still really wanted it, you'd go further, try harder and consider possibilities you thought you'd never entertain when the need for a doughnut first came upon you.

Lost Blogger - Can Anyone Help?

Just a very quick post to see if I have missed something. I have been trying to read Waiting for a Baby Bump since her last post, but keep getting the message that "The blog you were looking for was not found.". Has she gone private or is there a fault. I can see that there is a new post - I just can't read it!

Bleurgh!

We interrupt this blog to bring you a moan and a whine! I am in the middle of writing a loooooong post on why we went with donor eggs, but have been waylayed by health issues.

Since coming back from holiday three weeks ago, I have had a horrible cough - tickly and coughing stuff up and, short of honey and lemon which does NOTHING, I can't take anything to make it better. I was given antibiotics (pregnancy-friendly ones), which I took, but the cough remains. On top of that, I have developed a lovely cold (or at least extensive nasal congestion) on top of the cough - just since last week. I literally cannot breathe through my nose - no air will pass through it at all! I have tried saline do.uches, steam, menthol sweets - no joy. I said to CM the other day, that I feel like this is how I'm going to be for the rest of my life. Normally, I get a cold and after a week, I'm better. This cough and the stopped-up nose will.not.go.away!

My blood pressure medication has been changed (about 6 weeks ago) and is no longer a be.ta-block.er and my resting heartrate is now around 95 - not enjoying that, and worrying that along with the BP it's something underlying that's going to end this pregnancy, if not me too.

And then there's the sleep ap.noea diagnosis I received two weeks ago. I went in last night to be fitted with a CP.AP mask and machine that should hopefully stop me from ceasing to breath 30 times an hour while I sleep, as I do now. However, I made a total arse of myself, had a panic attack when they put the mask on, only managed 45 minutes in it all told (none of them asleep) and cried on one of the nurses. It was probably optimistic to think that blowing air down my throat was going to be a fun thing while my nose doesn't work and my throat goes into spasms every 10 minutes even without such encouragement, but I am so terrified that these gaps in my breathing are going to affect the baby that I was determined to give it a shot. And I failed.

What made me cry was the thought of my poor baby struggling for oxygen, and the thought that I wasn't able to do the one thing that might make it better. I just want my baby to be alright. Needless to say, I have resorted to Dr Goo.gle who tells me that low birthweight/growth restriction might be a possibility - I try to comfort myself with the thought that the baby's measurements have all been bang on. I couldn't find anything telling me my baby might die as a result of my apn.oea, but I did find something linking it to pre-eclamp.sia (my pet worry). However, it seemed to be more that women with pre-eclamp.sia (whose babies can be growth restricted because of the PE) are more prone to sleep ap.noea rather than the other way round. I asked the sleep clinic nurse to get one of the consultants to give me a call to talk more. In the meantime, I am praying for a speedy recovery so I can make a big effort to get this mask to work.

Again, I'm left feeling ungrateful for not being happier during this pregnancy. I know how incredibly lucky I am, and this pregnancy - this baby - is the most important thing in my life. But because of this, I am also terrified. I have survived early losses (quite a few), but I don't think I would survive losing this one. One thing became incredibly clear to me last night - the fact that this pregnancy is not genetically mine makes not one, tiny difference to how much I love and want it. I knew this intellectually before, but last night it was visceral.

And . . . Relax (Mostly)

I am on holiday and I have reached my second trimester: two very good reasons to be happy.

I have finally managed to comment on the blogs I follow, though it has taken me several days to do it. You see, we are in a rather hilly, remote part of the UK in a cottage with no internet connection. We brought mobile broadband dongles with us, but they only work if we point everything in the right direction, at certain times of the day, if we stand on one leg and chant an incantation as we do it. You get the picture! Most of the comments were written while balancing my laptop on a window ledge (the walls of the cottage are so thick that all internet and phone usage must be done at a window) with the dongle, on the end of its extension cable) wedged into a bit of the sash-and case window lock. For some obscure reason, I was unable to comment on 2 blogs - Last Chance IVF and Waiting for a Baby Bump. The little pull-down menus that allow you to choose an identity weren't functional and it wouldn't let me submit without the identity. However, I am now on a train with wi-fi access and have managed to resolve that.

The holiday is very welcome - as you might be able to tell from the last post. After telling me I didn’t need to move rooms, my boss then changed her mind. And my co-teacher had a load of interviews and meetings, so I was rather overloaded in the last week or so of term! So far, we haven't done a lot. We have visited a couple of stately home, mainly to wander their grounds and admire the wildlife. We've also had a couple of days of doing very little of anything. I finally got hold of the complete remastered Twin Peaks and we're working our way through that in the evenings or when the weather's a bit wild. I don't usually watch anything more than once, but Twin Peaks is my big exception. I think this may be the 15th time I've watched it and I'm still noticing new things - the remastering helps with that!

The reason I am on a train is that I have just returned my lovely niece (aged 8) to her home city after a stay of a couple of days. Her older brother came to the cottage when we were last here two years ago and she's been keen to have her turn. We took her to an amazing castle that's a cross between a stately home and a theme park. We hope she enjoyed it as much as we did. She was also excited at the prospect of staying up late to watch the wildlife on CCTV. No, we are not at a well-known country park, family resort-type-thing (cen.ter.pa.rcs - my idea of hell as an infertile and I can't see my view changing even if this pregnancy works out with a baby at the end!). We are in a small cottage on a working farm and they did the CCTV thing very early on. We can watch foxes and badgers come to feed in a barn and a barn owl and her mate who have, we think, 11 eggs at present. I was saying it would be amazing if they hatched while my niece was here, but CM reckons if she goes home with a story like that, my nephew will be on the next train here to fight the one-upmanship! As it turned out, one egg did hatch and she saw some badgers, which she loved, but I think the staying up late was as much of an attraction in itself.

While she was staying with us, I got a little taste of what life may be like if this pregnancy works out. My niece would come into our room and I would get up and make her breakfast and see that she was OK and make sure she got dressed and brushed her teeth. Then I would deal with my own morning routine. Meanwhile, CM would continue to lie in bed, then have a shower and then come down once he was dressed and ready. Hmmmm. He did cook in the evenings, I’ll give him that. But I ended up tired and going to bed at the same time as my niece, then getting up with her, and so having no “grownup” time and no time to myself. I already have issues with this, as my job is such a people-heavy one - I am never, ever on my own at work - and CM is almost always at home when I get back and then I go to bed before he does. I tend to go out a LOT more than he does, and go away for weekends to see my sister etc. So he gets quite a lot of “me” time and never needs to ask for it. I, on the other hand, have to ask and then get a very grumpy response about “why should he have to remove himself for my convenience” etc. I sympathise with the idea that he doesn’t want to go out just because I want him to. On the other hand, I love him dearly, but if I don’t get some time and space to myself occasionally, I am NOT a happy person. I can see this being even more of an issue later on. Something to discuss, methinks!

As I said when I commented on one of the blogs I read, I have been mulling over a post on why we went for donor eggs in the end (or, more accurately, why I did - I can’t really speak for CM). I think that will be what comes next here.

Too Busy!!!

I am far, far too busy for someone "in my condition".

This post is by way of an excuse for a) not posting in a while and b) not being very good at commenting on other folks' blogs just now.

We are in the worst time of year at school:
1. We have just finished carrying out and marking assessments.
2. We are trying desperately to finish all the work we put in our forward plans.
3. My class and the other 2 P1 classes are being split up and recombined to form 3 equally sized classes, which involves an awful lot of paperwork and meetings etc.
4. We have to totally strip all the walls in the classroom.
5. I have to pack up all my belongings and those of the children, ready to move to a new classroom.

And we're trying to do all this in a heat of 30 degrees centigrade as the "Hut" that I teach in must originally have been designed as an industrial sized oven. All day we try and coax the children through the remaining work, until the room gets too hot and we have to decant to the playground. Once the children go home, it's time to mark, organise, meet and pack. I'm rarely leaving work before 6pm and have to stay later when I can.

On top of this, we have multiple appointments relating to the pregnancy and my parents are moving house this Friday and we're due to go on holiday this Saturday.

I am exhausted and cannot wait for it all to stop - school finishes this Thursday and then I hope to get back on here (if I can get a signal from where I'm escaping to) and blog and comment again. In the meantime, I am reading blogs whenever I can to keep up to date and am thinking of you all.

Still Here

Nearly 11 weeks and I still appear to be pregnant - and am still scared, excited, disbelieving and a whole lot of other mixed emotions.

I have had two more scans. One fantastic one at 9 weeks, with a lovely sonographer who showed us something that looked like a baby and was moving! That was incredible! The last one, at 10 weeks, was less amazing and involved an argument with a sonographer who wanted to work out my due date, even though I'd already told her it was the 3rd of January. Despite the fact that I'd already told her it was a donor egg, she asked when my last period was, and when I reminded her that this was a bit different and that I knew what the conception date was, she asked what date the transfer was on. She was going to work back 2 weeks from transfer to my "period" - at that point (still no ultrasound going on and worried whether there might be a baby in there still) I got a bit snippy and said that I knew when conception was, I had been given a due date and could I please have an ultrasound. We both warmed up a bit as the scan got going, but it was quicker and less reassuring than the last. However, there was a baby with a heartbeat that was measuring correctly and did at least one wee wave for us.

The next scan is the 12 week one - or two. We're having one at the local hospital for official purposes and one at a private clinic for more detail and with a blood test - we want to be prepared.

We have also had our first high-risk appointments. Wow - that was fun! NOT! I showed up with protein in my wee at a level that was pretty high. Too early for pre-eclamp.sia, but since I have high blood pressure and take a range of drugs that could affect my kidneys, I was still worried. We waited for about 4 hours - one appointment was 3 hours late because I don't have the right paperwork yet. I had to change my blood pressure medication to one that is not working so well and move my anti-clotting medication by two hours every couple of days to get it to the morning rather than the evening (this means taking it to work and trying to find a private place in school that is bright enough so that I can avoid my previous bruises when I inject). Various scary discussions about all the risks I'm under - particularly pre-eclamp.sia - were also had. Not my most favourite bit of the pregnancy stuff so far. We're back there again next week for a similar length of visit and some feedback on the follow-up tests on the wee!

On a brighter note, my boss has been lovely. I have been given a class for next year that should minimise my stress and she's arranged for me not to have to move room - that'll be brilliant, not to have to pack everything up and beg other people to carry it all. She has also been incredibly accommodating of all the appointments (mind you, I have done my very best to minimise any time out) and very nice to me as a person. She told me the other day that the baby has to be my priority, not work! I am extremely grateful to have one potential source of stress removed.

My work-mates have also been incredibly kind. One colleague/friend, who struggle for a while to have her one child, even offered to help me move and set up my new room if I had to shift. Folk are always asking me if I'm OK and telling me how happy they are that it's all still going. I still feel a bit of a fraud and I still feel like I'm living on borrowed time with this pregnancy and I find myself trying to brush off any "future" questions - when will I take maternity leave, how long will I take off, what kind of birth am I planning.

One bullet I'm going to have to bite soon is the issue of clothes. Since about 6 weeks, my br.as have been on the tight side and I have put off buying any new ones. Now my trousers are getting too tight as well. My wee sister is coming up for a weekend in two weeks time and has promised to come shopping with me. By that time, I'll be past 12 weeks - hopefully - and might feel a bit more able to acknowledge all this.

My sister is coming up to say goodbye to our childhood home, where my parents have lived since I was 6 months old. They are moving out in 3 weeks time, into what my mother calls a "two-story caravan" - a modern rented house. Saying goodbye to the house that is still "home" to me - even though I haven't lived there for 23 years - is going to be really tough. I have been listening to Mir.anda Lam.bert's The House That Built Me and sobbing at the lyrics, which could have been written for me - especially the line about the back room where she did her homework and learned to play the guitar and another about her favourite dog being burried in the backyard. I'm not usually a country music fan, but I heard that song just around the time we bought the new place and it really affected me.

One funny moment from our first midwife appointment - we went through all the losses, treatments and medical issues I'd had/have and when we finally got to the end, the midwife leaned towards me and said, "Now . . . you don't have any silly ideas about a home birth, do you?". I laughed and assured her that if I was indeed going to give birth, I intended it to be in hospital with all the medical staff, equipment and drugs I could get hold of. "Oh good!" she said.

Another Bit of Teacher Blogging

Another in my (very) occasional series of observations on the kids I teach - with names changed to protect the innocent (that would mostly be me!). The kids I teach are all aged 5 & 6.

I was reminded of this one by a round robin email I was sent today called "Why Teachers Drink". It was a series of exam questions with what purports to be the real answers kids gave. One of them was as follows:
Q - Explain why phosphorous trichloride (PCI3) is polar.
A - God made it that way.

I'm inclined to believe that one really is a real answer, because I got almost the same one from a child the other week. We were reading a book - part of a reading scheme that those in the UK will recognise if I mention the names Bi.ff, Ch.ip and Kip.per. I'm disguising the names because . . . well imagine a kid doing a search on his or her favourite characters and ending up HERE!

Anyhow, it was all about the central characters going back in time to Victorian London. On the front cover we see the protagonists and a London city scene, complete with a good 'ol pea-souper behind them. We had talked about the whole no-electricity thing, about real fires and gas lamps.

So I asked the group, "Why is the sky a funny colour? Why is it not the same colour as the sky we see outside just now?". To which I got the answer, "Because it was Victorian times and God made the sky a different colour then?". When I told my teaching partner, it led to a rather silly discussion on whether God might have colour-coded the centuries and if we were to hop in a time-machine we might be able to chart our course by the changing hues of the sky.

But the best ever response during a reading session was from one child in response to another. We were reading a very short encyclopedia of dinosaurs, with the names phonetically spelled to help the children sound them out. One child was struggling over ankylosaurus - "an - ki . . . ", "ank - ilo . . ." and then gave out a mighty sneeze, "ATISHOO!". To which the wee girl opposite, quick as a flash, came back, "Well, that's a funny name for a dinosaur!". It took me a while to recover my composure.

I really do love my job!