Traditionally, of course, one does not tell many people in the first trimester that one is pregnant. We have avoided telling people for previous pregnancies - with the first one, I think realising there was a risk of miscarriage, and not wanting people to come back to us at about 20 weeks and ask how it was going. I think we were probably right to do that. With the next two confirmed pregnancies we were obviously more scared of something going wrong, and then it did, so we felt justified.
This time, so many people know that something has been wrong that we are slightly revising our policy. I have told two online communities (including the one that we met through) on the grounds that, I would be telling them if something went wrong, and we would like their thoughts and prayers before that happened. We have also told two of our adoption referees on the grounds that they are probably wondering what's going on with the adoption anyway, and we think we'll tell my mother, and the other two referees, after the 8 week scan, which ever way it goes.
But thinking about the treatment that the clinic is giving me - basically, TLC and ultrasound - and the fact that if recurrent miscarriers aren't getting treatment, it can be the case that no-one except their partner can support them - I wonder if keeping quiet is really the best policy. Perhaps having an aware support system is something that could actually help one's chances?
I'm wondering when is going to be the best time to tell my boss - he only knows I've been ill, not what with, so he doesn't know how scary this pregnancy is. And he can't keep his mouth shut, and I know he'll want to start planning for any potential absence, and I don't want him to do that until I'm 14 weeks (which would coincide with the end of term, which would be bad from his point of view as all helpful parties tend to disperse). But I don't know how much longer I can be regularly irregular in my physical attendance at work, without anyone noticing. And selfishly, if he knew I was pregnant and wanting to nap every afternoon, I might get a lower exam marking load.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Friday, May 04, 2007
Viable
Gestation sac, on abdominal scan, yolk sac and - wait for it - HEARTBEAT - on TV scan.
Okay, that’s the basics, you can skip the rest of the post now. But in detail:
Didn’t sleep much last night, so I got up and read, watched TV, and messed around on my (dying) desktop computer – this is posted from my laptop – Mr. Spouse is coming home with an external hard drive tonight in a rescue attempt. We got the train there and on the way I started drinking my mandated water, after a hot chocolate. Mistake. Hobbling down the road from the train station, and the same problem as about this time last year (post miscarriage no, er, two? three?). Hugely overfull bladder, immense pain in the waiting room, wondering how all these other ladies could actually sit there. I went and emptied a bit out three times and was still told to go and let some more out by the sonographer (aged 12). I think I must have a larger bladder than most people – I could actually hardly tell it was full at the point when it was just right. Note for future occasions.
We could only see the sac on the abdominal, and at first she wasn’t even sure it was that, and I have a hazy pre-bladder-emptying recollection of her saying “do you want a vaginal scan?” but she can’t have given me the choice, can she? Anyway, after asking if I wanted Mr. Spouse to go out (well, he has actually seen it all, you know?) she got to work and saw the gestational sac and yolk sac pretty much immediately and then said “oh, that might be a heartbeat”. I was thinking, oh dear, it won’t be clear, it’s going to be inconclusive. But then she found it, and we saw it for about 30 seconds. She tried to take a few measurements but it was all too small, although she reckoned it was about right for exactly 6 weeks, so I’m not that worried.
She also found what she thought was a small fibroid – hmm, okay, a new problem to worry about. She said it’s tiny and right at the top of the uterus so nothing to worry about but they’ll keep an eye on it. It is clearly not the cause of the previous miscarriages but I’ll make sure they look at it next time (Next time! Yes! Another scan – never thought I’d get to this one, let alone another one).
Anyway, over the hallway to the clinic, where most of my blood test results were back from last week, although the first thing she said was that the clotting screen takes four to five weeks.
Me: Erm, isn’t that a bit late for this pregnancy?
Her: (looking embarrassed) Well, yes, it would only really help us in subsequent pregnancies. But we can give you aspirin now, it won’t do you any harm.
Me: Yes! Please! Give me drugs! Now!
I’m not anaemic (so off the blocking-up iron) and last week’s HcG was appropriate for 5 weeks (they only repeat it if the scan isn’t viable), so no new blood tests.
So, in a stunned haze, I sleep-bought some sandals, a sugar fix to eat on the train, and came home where I slept for an hour and a half.
My breasts are not as painful today and my temperature seems to have come down (but the gynae said my temperature was high enough that I may have had a bit of a virus) – ordinarily this would panic me but all was, apparently, well with Sprout*. I have read that this now gives me an 80% chance of not miscarrying, but I just read a paper from our clinic saying that, although the danger point is about 7 weeks, if you have seen a heartbeat at any point then only about 3% of pregnancies miscarry. And that’s in idiopathic recurrent miscarriers. So adjusting for age, I am starting to feel a little confident. Just a little, you realise.
My skivy-itis seems to be working so I am going to continue my policy of minimal work, much time at home and no vigorous exercise. Even Mr. Spouse (who laughs at my normal working hours) agreed it might be helping.
Now I need to pee again.
*Brussels, geddit?
Okay, that’s the basics, you can skip the rest of the post now. But in detail:
Didn’t sleep much last night, so I got up and read, watched TV, and messed around on my (dying) desktop computer – this is posted from my laptop – Mr. Spouse is coming home with an external hard drive tonight in a rescue attempt. We got the train there and on the way I started drinking my mandated water, after a hot chocolate. Mistake. Hobbling down the road from the train station, and the same problem as about this time last year (post miscarriage no, er, two? three?). Hugely overfull bladder, immense pain in the waiting room, wondering how all these other ladies could actually sit there. I went and emptied a bit out three times and was still told to go and let some more out by the sonographer (aged 12). I think I must have a larger bladder than most people – I could actually hardly tell it was full at the point when it was just right. Note for future occasions.
We could only see the sac on the abdominal, and at first she wasn’t even sure it was that, and I have a hazy pre-bladder-emptying recollection of her saying “do you want a vaginal scan?” but she can’t have given me the choice, can she? Anyway, after asking if I wanted Mr. Spouse to go out (well, he has actually seen it all, you know?) she got to work and saw the gestational sac and yolk sac pretty much immediately and then said “oh, that might be a heartbeat”. I was thinking, oh dear, it won’t be clear, it’s going to be inconclusive. But then she found it, and we saw it for about 30 seconds. She tried to take a few measurements but it was all too small, although she reckoned it was about right for exactly 6 weeks, so I’m not that worried.
She also found what she thought was a small fibroid – hmm, okay, a new problem to worry about. She said it’s tiny and right at the top of the uterus so nothing to worry about but they’ll keep an eye on it. It is clearly not the cause of the previous miscarriages but I’ll make sure they look at it next time (Next time! Yes! Another scan – never thought I’d get to this one, let alone another one).
Anyway, over the hallway to the clinic, where most of my blood test results were back from last week, although the first thing she said was that the clotting screen takes four to five weeks.
Me: Erm, isn’t that a bit late for this pregnancy?
Her: (looking embarrassed) Well, yes, it would only really help us in subsequent pregnancies. But we can give you aspirin now, it won’t do you any harm.
Me: Yes! Please! Give me drugs! Now!
I’m not anaemic (so off the blocking-up iron) and last week’s HcG was appropriate for 5 weeks (they only repeat it if the scan isn’t viable), so no new blood tests.
So, in a stunned haze, I sleep-bought some sandals, a sugar fix to eat on the train, and came home where I slept for an hour and a half.
My breasts are not as painful today and my temperature seems to have come down (but the gynae said my temperature was high enough that I may have had a bit of a virus) – ordinarily this would panic me but all was, apparently, well with Sprout*. I have read that this now gives me an 80% chance of not miscarrying, but I just read a paper from our clinic saying that, although the danger point is about 7 weeks, if you have seen a heartbeat at any point then only about 3% of pregnancies miscarry. And that’s in idiopathic recurrent miscarriers. So adjusting for age, I am starting to feel a little confident. Just a little, you realise.
My skivy-itis seems to be working so I am going to continue my policy of minimal work, much time at home and no vigorous exercise. Even Mr. Spouse (who laughs at my normal working hours) agreed it might be helping.
Now I need to pee again.
*Brussels, geddit?
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Anniversary
Our third wedding anniversary was yesterday. It was actually a nice day - I didn't think too much about last year, when I had just miscarried. Maybe this past-blindness is what is enabling me to carry on getting pregnant and not just giving up on the whole thing? Anyway it was sunny and we were both "working" at home so we went out to lunch, and then went and bought me a new printer to fit into my new workstation, and to go with my new monitor. Most of the afternoon was spent setting it up. Very productive, I'm sure.
Officially I need a new workstation in the living room so we can have another spare bed in my ex-study, now just a sewing room. We're doing it now because the window is about to be replaced and the poor joiner needs to be able to get to the window. Unofficially, well, whether our child or children come from the NHS or the Social Services, they need a place to sleep, and if it is Social Services, the social worker needs to see that place.
Still much the same, otherwise, slightly more progresterone symptoms (very very sore boobs - I swear I've gone up 2 cup sizes - though apparently that could be it for a while, or they could even shrink again, very warm, cramps still there though less sore) though other symptoms are the same or slightly less (sense of smell still heightened, but slightly less nausea), though I did a sneaky test and got a very dark second line, this morning, so that's not worrying me. I'm actually beginning to believe I might get my 6-week scan. Of course, this could be because this pregnancy is going to be like no 1, and I was wrong about having turned into someone who miscarries on their own, but I can't help thinking something might be going on in there and all my exhortations to "fold your neural tube, build a nice sac" might have been listened to.
Officially I need a new workstation in the living room so we can have another spare bed in my ex-study, now just a sewing room. We're doing it now because the window is about to be replaced and the poor joiner needs to be able to get to the window. Unofficially, well, whether our child or children come from the NHS or the Social Services, they need a place to sleep, and if it is Social Services, the social worker needs to see that place.
Still much the same, otherwise, slightly more progresterone symptoms (very very sore boobs - I swear I've gone up 2 cup sizes - though apparently that could be it for a while, or they could even shrink again, very warm, cramps still there though less sore) though other symptoms are the same or slightly less (sense of smell still heightened, but slightly less nausea), though I did a sneaky test and got a very dark second line, this morning, so that's not worrying me. I'm actually beginning to believe I might get my 6-week scan. Of course, this could be because this pregnancy is going to be like no 1, and I was wrong about having turned into someone who miscarries on their own, but I can't help thinking something might be going on in there and all my exhortations to "fold your neural tube, build a nice sac" might have been listened to.
Still obsessing and worrying and still finding it hard to sleep, because of the obsessing and worrying, but I managed a full day at the office, and have a half day tomorrow. And I got some new knickers (together with my new "secret support" vests) and put on a white pair this evening.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Scared, nervous, petrified, worried...
all of them... All I can believe, really, is that I'm going to miscarry - Mr. Spouse alternates between denial (la, la, la) and saying "When you get big...". I'm still going to the loo 20 times a day, ten of them hormone related (what on earth would it be like if I had anything to put pressure on my bladder??!) and the other ten due to panicky knicker-checking. I still feel slightly nauseous some of the time, seem to have a heightened sense of smell, and have huge, painful boobs and some cramps. I'm terrified of:
exercise (last time I carried on jogging, but I've stopped this time, and I'm not sure about cycling or digging in the garden either, so I'm copping out)
stress at work (I'm sorely tempted to skive Monday and Tuesday, too, although I have meetings on Weds and Thurs)
sex (which hasn't been helped by having fairly low levels of lubrication, for some reason - I thought progesterone was supposed to increase this).
going too far from home (I think I only managed on Friday because I was already out of the house to go to the hospital)
food (I am not very well-informed on what is and isn't safe so spent ages in the supermarket agonising over some non-rinded goats' cheese which I'm pretty sure is OK)
drugs and even vitamins (I thought I should get some Omega-3 but the pregnancy ones came in huge, three-month, vastly expensive packets, so I thought of getting some non-pregnancy fish oils, and then panicked that they would be dangerous, so didn't get anything)
planning anything too far ahead (we are supposed to be booking our summer holidays - but have no idea what we will want to do or where we will want to go)
Basically I'm just terrified. I am assuming that, although I didn't miscarry on my own during the first pregnancy, I have turned into someone who does miscarry on their own. So I am just assuming I'm going to bleed before Friday, rather than have bad news on Friday (of course, I can't imagine I'll have good news on Friday). I'm sure it doesn't feel like this if you are a recurrent miscarrier who doesn't miscarry on their own, but I can't help feeling it would be better if a) I could go to the loo in peace, and less often and b) there was some chance they could do an ERPC and therefore a chromosomal analysis.
exercise (last time I carried on jogging, but I've stopped this time, and I'm not sure about cycling or digging in the garden either, so I'm copping out)
stress at work (I'm sorely tempted to skive Monday and Tuesday, too, although I have meetings on Weds and Thurs)
sex (which hasn't been helped by having fairly low levels of lubrication, for some reason - I thought progesterone was supposed to increase this).
going too far from home (I think I only managed on Friday because I was already out of the house to go to the hospital)
food (I am not very well-informed on what is and isn't safe so spent ages in the supermarket agonising over some non-rinded goats' cheese which I'm pretty sure is OK)
drugs and even vitamins (I thought I should get some Omega-3 but the pregnancy ones came in huge, three-month, vastly expensive packets, so I thought of getting some non-pregnancy fish oils, and then panicked that they would be dangerous, so didn't get anything)
planning anything too far ahead (we are supposed to be booking our summer holidays - but have no idea what we will want to do or where we will want to go)
Basically I'm just terrified. I am assuming that, although I didn't miscarry on my own during the first pregnancy, I have turned into someone who does miscarry on their own. So I am just assuming I'm going to bleed before Friday, rather than have bad news on Friday (of course, I can't imagine I'll have good news on Friday). I'm sure it doesn't feel like this if you are a recurrent miscarrier who doesn't miscarry on their own, but I can't help feeling it would be better if a) I could go to the loo in peace, and less often and b) there was some chance they could do an ERPC and therefore a chromosomal analysis.
Friday, April 27, 2007
No scan
The registrar says they don’t do them at 5 weeks (and I am only 5 weeks today by the calendar, and probably 4w6 by when I ovulated – actually, now I think about it, I think I’ve only ever got pregnant on cycles when I ovulated a day or more late). She asked for blood tests – beta HcG (the nurse asked whether it was to be repeated, so it seems they do sometimes repeat them, but it isn’t – I also know that even some IVF clinics just do one), full blood count (in case the ENT doctor was right about me being anaemic – and if he was wrong, I’m to come off the extra iron), and clotting screen - she didn’t actually say why that one, but I am pretty sure it’s an online clotting test since some people have hyper clotting only during pregnancy. It was a bit strange actually to think that with all these pregnancies, no-one’s ever managed to do any tests during one of them.
She said she’d book me in again in 2 weeks for a scan. I thought about it for about 5 minutes while waiting for my blood tests and when she came back with the appointment request I asked if it could be brought forward, so it is next Friday instead. I have a feeling they don’t like to scan people unless they are then able to get a definitive answer, reasoning that an ambiguous scan may be worse than no scan. But I am not even sure that the pregnancy will last 2 more weeks, let alone my nerves.
Anyway, having arrived ultra-early, I left the hospital 7 minutes after my actual appointment time. Is this a world record? Then I got the train to where Mr. Spouse works, bought Lush products, had lunch with him, bought shoes for us both (our third wedding anniversary present to each other – leather, see?), and had a manicure. I’m so hard-working, me.
She said she’d book me in again in 2 weeks for a scan. I thought about it for about 5 minutes while waiting for my blood tests and when she came back with the appointment request I asked if it could be brought forward, so it is next Friday instead. I have a feeling they don’t like to scan people unless they are then able to get a definitive answer, reasoning that an ambiguous scan may be worse than no scan. But I am not even sure that the pregnancy will last 2 more weeks, let alone my nerves.
Anyway, having arrived ultra-early, I left the hospital 7 minutes after my actual appointment time. Is this a world record? Then I got the train to where Mr. Spouse works, bought Lush products, had lunch with him, bought shoes for us both (our third wedding anniversary present to each other – leather, see?), and had a manicure. I’m so hard-working, me.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Don't tell...
I spent the day mainly sitting on the sofa, reading, watching telly, knitting, with a bit of surfing and also a bit of sewing thrown in. I even did some ironing. However I didn't tell work I was sick - I just checked my email and replied and said I was working from home. I still feel a bit crampy (not as bad as it was, but uncomfortable, and much better when I'm lying down) and stressed and really couldn't face people after the last two, very intense, days.
I'm fairly relaxed about tomorrow's appointment - I actually worked out even if I started bleeding now I couldn't bleed everything away by then (morbid? me?), and given how knackered I'm feeling (and, er, the fact that I did another test this afternoon and it was strongly positive) I doubt that's going to happen anyway. But I'm beginning to really hope they do a scan, even though last time they told me they don't scan at 5 weeks but do repeat blood tests (which would presumably mean going again on Monday... blurgh).
I was putting out some clothes for charity today that had been sitting waiting to be got rid of for several months. In among them were two vests with "secret support" from pregnancy no 1, over 2 years ago. I decided to keep them - I wore them in bed from about week 6 onwards, I seem to remember. Well, I need them now, so even if I just wear them till next week it might make me more comfortable. I don't think I have any lack of progesterone, somehow.
Edited: because I forgot to say that S, the work colleague who is adopting from overseas, was sitting next to me when I dashed out for the clinic phone call, and wanted to know who it was, and I couldn't resist telling her. She clearly hadn't been paying attention (and can you blame her) when I told her all my previous sagas because on hearing I had my first clinic appointment asked if I was 12 weeks. But now I'm wondering whether I should say "I promise not to talk about the pregnancy" to her. She's never managed to get pregnant, and was about to start IVF when they scanned her and found just one antral follicle. I know she finds this painful, but I'm not sure how she feels about another struggling person's pregnancy (as opposed to the irritating other staff we work with, who just have to drop their knickers, apparently).
I'm fairly relaxed about tomorrow's appointment - I actually worked out even if I started bleeding now I couldn't bleed everything away by then (morbid? me?), and given how knackered I'm feeling (and, er, the fact that I did another test this afternoon and it was strongly positive) I doubt that's going to happen anyway. But I'm beginning to really hope they do a scan, even though last time they told me they don't scan at 5 weeks but do repeat blood tests (which would presumably mean going again on Monday... blurgh).
I was putting out some clothes for charity today that had been sitting waiting to be got rid of for several months. In among them were two vests with "secret support" from pregnancy no 1, over 2 years ago. I decided to keep them - I wore them in bed from about week 6 onwards, I seem to remember. Well, I need them now, so even if I just wear them till next week it might make me more comfortable. I don't think I have any lack of progesterone, somehow.
Edited: because I forgot to say that S, the work colleague who is adopting from overseas, was sitting next to me when I dashed out for the clinic phone call, and wanted to know who it was, and I couldn't resist telling her. She clearly hadn't been paying attention (and can you blame her) when I told her all my previous sagas because on hearing I had my first clinic appointment asked if I was 12 weeks. But now I'm wondering whether I should say "I promise not to talk about the pregnancy" to her. She's never managed to get pregnant, and was about to start IVF when they scanned her and found just one antral follicle. I know she finds this painful, but I'm not sure how she feels about another struggling person's pregnancy (as opposed to the irritating other staff we work with, who just have to drop their knickers, apparently).
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Friday
My first appointment at the hospital. I told the nurse I'd only be 5 weeks and she said that was OK. Not sure if it was just a random timing, or last time there were none available in my 5th week, or if this was actually a systematic choice based on the timing of my previous losses.
Also not sure if they will scan me, or just do a blood test. Or what they'd see, if they did a scan.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Feast or famine
That's what it's like on this blog. I feel like I should post often as I might not get many opportunities to post-while-pregnant, just to annoy people.
Cramps: there are three kinds in my world.
Period pains: continual, more or less, and only start after the bleeding. Dull, achey, require painkillers.
Period-related-cramps: similar to period pains, but not continuous. Also dull, achey, and require painkillers. Occur before or during a period. Don't usually occur more than 2 or 3 days before a period.
Pregnancy-related-cramps: sharper, less painful, more like having a stitch in your side. Can also be felt in groin area. Can occur before a pregnancy but can also occur up to 7 days before a period. I don't think I've ever had them in a cycle when I couldn't have possibly been pregnant, and I also never got them before I was pregnant the first time, so I've put them down to either a) unsuccessful implantation or b) a now-slightly-stretched uterus reacting to progesterone.
I've been having type 2 (dull, achey) since about Thursday, but now type 3 (sharper, less painful) have kicked in too, and the proportion is increasing. So I'm in less pain and slightly less anxious that this is ending right now. The last couple of times I had no cramps in warning, only after bleeding, anyway.
Rang nurse. No-one there. Does this sound familiar? If I don't get an answer by about 4 p.m. I'll check with their admin office that she's actually in this week. I would quite like to know if they have any cramp-related advice. Or work-related advice. Or anything really. Interim compromise on the work trip is that I go, but drive myself so I can come home if I need to (I was planning on sharing a lift). Mr. Spouse suggested giving work the heads-up today but I'm not sure if I should tell them "not very well, waiting to hear back from hospital about whether they want to see me/me to go to bed" or wait till I do hear. Writing it down, I think possibly the former.
Cramps: there are three kinds in my world.
Period pains: continual, more or less, and only start after the bleeding. Dull, achey, require painkillers.
Period-related-cramps: similar to period pains, but not continuous. Also dull, achey, and require painkillers. Occur before or during a period. Don't usually occur more than 2 or 3 days before a period.
Pregnancy-related-cramps: sharper, less painful, more like having a stitch in your side. Can also be felt in groin area. Can occur before a pregnancy but can also occur up to 7 days before a period. I don't think I've ever had them in a cycle when I couldn't have possibly been pregnant, and I also never got them before I was pregnant the first time, so I've put them down to either a) unsuccessful implantation or b) a now-slightly-stretched uterus reacting to progesterone.
I've been having type 2 (dull, achey) since about Thursday, but now type 3 (sharper, less painful) have kicked in too, and the proportion is increasing. So I'm in less pain and slightly less anxious that this is ending right now. The last couple of times I had no cramps in warning, only after bleeding, anyway.
Rang nurse. No-one there. Does this sound familiar? If I don't get an answer by about 4 p.m. I'll check with their admin office that she's actually in this week. I would quite like to know if they have any cramp-related advice. Or work-related advice. Or anything really. Interim compromise on the work trip is that I go, but drive myself so I can come home if I need to (I was planning on sharing a lift). Mr. Spouse suggested giving work the heads-up today but I'm not sure if I should tell them "not very well, waiting to hear back from hospital about whether they want to see me/me to go to bed" or wait till I do hear. Writing it down, I think possibly the former.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Nervous
Another positive test, stronger this time (First Response), at 4 a.m. I wasn't going to tell Mr. Spouse till normal getting-up time but I woke him getting back into bed so I blurted it out. He has forbidden me to do any more tests - and he doesn't know about the Friday one.
I would prefer just to curl up in bed and hide for the next week, but I'm not sure this is a good idea, and Mr. Spouse has forbidden it anyway. Unfortunately we have the most boring - but potentially argumentative - planning session ever with our department, lasting two days and taking place at a hotel about an hour from here. All the (numerous) men will get very drunk and ask why I'm not drinking. The women will congregate in the spa (which was my idea, originally) and ask why I'm not in the steam room. And it's kind of been suggested that it would be antisocial for me to book a massage. I am really not keen - I wasn't before, but now I'm afraid I'll start bleeding, and crying, while I'm there.
Still a little crampy, which I don't like. At all. But no bleeding or spotting. I'll ring the nurse tomorrow and ask about that (perhaps she'll tell me to go to bed? you think? no?) and also about doing a couple of blood tests, which they said they do sometimes do at 5 weeks.
I would prefer just to curl up in bed and hide for the next week, but I'm not sure this is a good idea, and Mr. Spouse has forbidden it anyway. Unfortunately we have the most boring - but potentially argumentative - planning session ever with our department, lasting two days and taking place at a hotel about an hour from here. All the (numerous) men will get very drunk and ask why I'm not drinking. The women will congregate in the spa (which was my idea, originally) and ask why I'm not in the steam room. And it's kind of been suggested that it would be antisocial for me to book a massage. I am really not keen - I wasn't before, but now I'm afraid I'll start bleeding, and crying, while I'm there.
Still a little crampy, which I don't like. At all. But no bleeding or spotting. I'll ring the nurse tomorrow and ask about that (perhaps she'll tell me to go to bed? you think? no?) and also about doing a couple of blood tests, which they said they do sometimes do at 5 weeks.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Cupcakes
Both the ones we bought from the stall in the market today (mmm... Rocky Road, which was a kind of very thick dark chocolate with the walnuts and marshmallows, and Citrus, which had lemon curd inside it and lemon icing) and the one in the book I'm reading, A Piece of Cake, by Cupcake Brown. I have no idea why I feel the need to read this kind of book as they aren't even particularly representative of children who go through the care system/suffer abuse.
The cramps are slightly better (I didn't need any paracetemol today) and no bleeding as yet, so perhaps there is something in there. It doesn't seem very happy though. I have been trying to distract myself, so I've also been doing a bit of gardening type DIY, putting together a mini-greenhouse, with the help, and criticism (That's not straight! Here, hold this and let me do it.) of Mr. Spouse. He's the handyperson and I'm the gardener around here. But no heavy lifting, don't worry.
The cramps are slightly better (I didn't need any paracetemol today) and no bleeding as yet, so perhaps there is something in there. It doesn't seem very happy though. I have been trying to distract myself, so I've also been doing a bit of gardening type DIY, putting together a mini-greenhouse, with the help, and criticism (That's not straight! Here, hold this and let me do it.) of Mr. Spouse. He's the handyperson and I'm the gardener around here. But no heavy lifting, don't worry.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Oh look
Christmas uni holiday. Lots of R&R. Positive test last day of vacation. Stressful start of term. Miscarriage beginning of week 2.
Easter uni holiday. Lots of R&R. Positive test last day of vacation (i.e. today). You do the maths. But as it's only CD28 today and I actually think my period is due on CD29 by when I ovulated, and I have mega I'm-having-my-period-right-now cramps, I think this one is going to be a chemical pregnancy.
Still, at least I got to see where the second line should be on the cheapo dipstick tests. My only question is, do I still need to use pads if it's a chem as with a regular miscarriage, or can I go with tampons/mooncup?
Easter uni holiday. Lots of R&R. Positive test last day of vacation (i.e. today). You do the maths. But as it's only CD28 today and I actually think my period is due on CD29 by when I ovulated, and I have mega I'm-having-my-period-right-now cramps, I think this one is going to be a chemical pregnancy.
Still, at least I got to see where the second line should be on the cheapo dipstick tests. My only question is, do I still need to use pads if it's a chem as with a regular miscarriage, or can I go with tampons/mooncup?
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Wrong, wrong, wrong
I found out on Easter Day that my friend, who is just a few days older than me, died last Wednesday. I have talked about her in the present tense several times and corrected myself, and likewise forgotten to correct myself, so I’m leaving that first sentence. She and her husband have two under-fives. She had stomach cancer, picked up when the younger one was 6 months old – she thought the exhaustion was just from being a new mother again. The older one started school in September. This is just wrong, beyond wrong.
There is a wake tonight and I am nearby, but not sure whether to go – the funeral is tomorrow, we had a long journey today and have a long one late tomorrow after what will no doubt be an emotionally harrowing afternoon. She is a friend from my old church, and was a large part of making me feel extremely welcome and making the place into a very tightly-knit community. There were only a few people that I got very close to, though, and she was one of them. She had a fairly late miscarriage before the first of their children, and was very comforting to me after my first miscarriage. And she was generally lovely, artistic, warm, welcoming, just a wonderful person. Even if she hadn’t been wonderful, this is just wrong, I tell you. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
There is a wake tonight and I am nearby, but not sure whether to go – the funeral is tomorrow, we had a long journey today and have a long one late tomorrow after what will no doubt be an emotionally harrowing afternoon. She is a friend from my old church, and was a large part of making me feel extremely welcome and making the place into a very tightly-knit community. There were only a few people that I got very close to, though, and she was one of them. She had a fairly late miscarriage before the first of their children, and was very comforting to me after my first miscarriage. And she was generally lovely, artistic, warm, welcoming, just a wonderful person. Even if she hadn’t been wonderful, this is just wrong, I tell you. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
How the other half lives
I think this is probably my first foray into private medicine, at least in the UK – in the US I had the sort of insurance that didn’t guarantee you a waiting room full of well-dressed City types, and on the NHS, especially where the RPL clinic is, you get a high proportion of scallies, and a low teeth-to-tattoo ratio. Think people who shouldn’t be wearing leggings, wearing them, and sitting outside the hospital smoking next to a) their baby and b) the No Smoking notice. Yes, I’m a snob.
The Small But Perfectly Formed Clinic is in the bowels of a London teaching hospital, in a mainly 19th century building, so there’s a limit to how posh it can be. But the open evening attendees were, as I say, not your usual gynae clientele.
Most of the talk was about IVF, with little acknowledgement that people might be there for other things, even though a couple of bright-eyed young things at the front asked about IUI during the questions section. The doctor giving the talk did acknowledge to us, though, that she should have talked about people with other needs, as they mentioned, though glossed over, what I think we might be most interested in – an ovarian reserve assessment. She also mentioned, as if it was the answer to ageing eggs, PGS, but she was honest enough to admit that our consultant was probably right, and it probably wouldn’t help us much.
Mr. Spouse says he doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic about adoption as he did before the last pregnancy, and I suspect his enthusiasm level isn’t high enough to start the process again at the moment – mine isn’t really, either, though I think it’s a little higher than his. It has also occurred to me that the next preparation course for our agency is probably in the summer, and they wouldn’t want us to do too many home study sessions before it, nor to leave too long a gap before starting again. So we will ring them when we get home and enquire, but not make definite moves to starting again. And I think we might book in for the ovarian reserve test.
I think I might need to compare how I’m feeling now to how I was feeling a year ago – because I suspect it’s the same. Feeling that I have no time, that the next month/six months are THE crucial months for both adoption and pregnancy, that if I put either one off even a little bit I will have missed the window, the perfect cycle, the perfect waiting child. I’m glad the consultant said what he said about my next year – I think I might need to learn to wait a bit more patiently, and to trust that a small amount of time is not going to make that much difference.
Today in the church year is Maundy Thursday – Jesus is all alone in the Garden of Gethsemane, and is very much about suffering, but I think also about trust – that not everything can happen immediately, or the way I want it to.
The Small But Perfectly Formed Clinic is in the bowels of a London teaching hospital, in a mainly 19th century building, so there’s a limit to how posh it can be. But the open evening attendees were, as I say, not your usual gynae clientele.
Most of the talk was about IVF, with little acknowledgement that people might be there for other things, even though a couple of bright-eyed young things at the front asked about IUI during the questions section. The doctor giving the talk did acknowledge to us, though, that she should have talked about people with other needs, as they mentioned, though glossed over, what I think we might be most interested in – an ovarian reserve assessment. She also mentioned, as if it was the answer to ageing eggs, PGS, but she was honest enough to admit that our consultant was probably right, and it probably wouldn’t help us much.
Mr. Spouse says he doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic about adoption as he did before the last pregnancy, and I suspect his enthusiasm level isn’t high enough to start the process again at the moment – mine isn’t really, either, though I think it’s a little higher than his. It has also occurred to me that the next preparation course for our agency is probably in the summer, and they wouldn’t want us to do too many home study sessions before it, nor to leave too long a gap before starting again. So we will ring them when we get home and enquire, but not make definite moves to starting again. And I think we might book in for the ovarian reserve test.
I think I might need to compare how I’m feeling now to how I was feeling a year ago – because I suspect it’s the same. Feeling that I have no time, that the next month/six months are THE crucial months for both adoption and pregnancy, that if I put either one off even a little bit I will have missed the window, the perfect cycle, the perfect waiting child. I’m glad the consultant said what he said about my next year – I think I might need to learn to wait a bit more patiently, and to trust that a small amount of time is not going to make that much difference.
Today in the church year is Maundy Thursday – Jesus is all alone in the Garden of Gethsemane, and is very much about suffering, but I think also about trust – that not everything can happen immediately, or the way I want it to.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Apparently Normal
Well, you could have fooled me, but anyway Mr. Spouse was chuffed that his genetic analysis said that. So did mine. The consultant went through all the other results again - a couple of things are slightly quirky (apparently the mini-sacs on one ovary are not follicles, but something they can't quite explain found in 25% of healthy women, but if I had PCOS my hormone levels would be skewiff, and both ovaries would be about 3 times the size, and there is one blood test that is high and is found to be high in about 15% of RPL women as opposed to 5% of other women, but it doesn't make a difference to the outcome, and is usually linked to lupus or another immune problem, but I don't have any of the markers for those).
He reckons our chances with the next pregnancy are about 60%, which is good, as I was reckoning on 40-50%, and he says that given the signs, the next year should be fine for my fertility, and there isn't much difference between 41 and 40. Which is quite good, really, if I actually think about it, as so many other people seem to be saying "ooh, doom and gloom, pregnant past 40, forget it, it's the point of no return". He didn't think much to our suggestions of male factor and/or stress - there is an effect of both of these, but it's small compared to the effect of previous losses and of my age.
It's hard, though, to actually think about it. He did say that with no explanation for the miscarriages, I am in the best outcome group, and although we want to go along and be told a reason and that they can fix it, in fact we have a much better prognosis. But of course that's not what people (i.e. us) want. We want the magic wand and the crystal ball. Apparently about 25% of couples with RPL who come to the clinic don't try to get pregnant again. Since, by definition, you have to have got pregnant 3 times, it suggests you must have been keen to have children in the first place - so it says something that these couples don't try any more.
As for us? Well, I don't know. I don't think we'll be going for IVF. PGS is, as I suspected, a pointless exercise. He thinks it's a combination of the sample size and the willingness to get paid for treatments - not falsification of results, but the file drawer problem. If you'll get paid for doing a treatment, you don't publish the study that says there's no point in doing the treatment. He said there's a study soon to come out from Belgium or Holland saying that in a large population, prospective design there's no point in PGD for translocations, either. IVF with multiple embryos has no evidence to support it - and, given I'm relatively fertile and we would never countenance triplets, not much to recommend it for us, either.
This leaves trying again, and adoption. Try again now and put adoption on hold? Carry on trying vaguely while pursuing adoption? Have a break from trying and carry on with adoption? Just have a break? No idea. I feel like I should want to get on with something, but I'm not sure I really do - I thought I might be all gung-ho for one or the other, and maybe even wanting to ring the social worker before we go away, but I'm not sure I want to. But we are going to London on Weds and the land of Beer and Chocolate next week, so we will have a break from, well, from not doing very much work and feeling guilty about it.
He reckons our chances with the next pregnancy are about 60%, which is good, as I was reckoning on 40-50%, and he says that given the signs, the next year should be fine for my fertility, and there isn't much difference between 41 and 40. Which is quite good, really, if I actually think about it, as so many other people seem to be saying "ooh, doom and gloom, pregnant past 40, forget it, it's the point of no return". He didn't think much to our suggestions of male factor and/or stress - there is an effect of both of these, but it's small compared to the effect of previous losses and of my age.
It's hard, though, to actually think about it. He did say that with no explanation for the miscarriages, I am in the best outcome group, and although we want to go along and be told a reason and that they can fix it, in fact we have a much better prognosis. But of course that's not what people (i.e. us) want. We want the magic wand and the crystal ball. Apparently about 25% of couples with RPL who come to the clinic don't try to get pregnant again. Since, by definition, you have to have got pregnant 3 times, it suggests you must have been keen to have children in the first place - so it says something that these couples don't try any more.
As for us? Well, I don't know. I don't think we'll be going for IVF. PGS is, as I suspected, a pointless exercise. He thinks it's a combination of the sample size and the willingness to get paid for treatments - not falsification of results, but the file drawer problem. If you'll get paid for doing a treatment, you don't publish the study that says there's no point in doing the treatment. He said there's a study soon to come out from Belgium or Holland saying that in a large population, prospective design there's no point in PGD for translocations, either. IVF with multiple embryos has no evidence to support it - and, given I'm relatively fertile and we would never countenance triplets, not much to recommend it for us, either.
This leaves trying again, and adoption. Try again now and put adoption on hold? Carry on trying vaguely while pursuing adoption? Have a break from trying and carry on with adoption? Just have a break? No idea. I feel like I should want to get on with something, but I'm not sure I really do - I thought I might be all gung-ho for one or the other, and maybe even wanting to ring the social worker before we go away, but I'm not sure I want to. But we are going to London on Weds and the land of Beer and Chocolate next week, so we will have a break from, well, from not doing very much work and feeling guilty about it.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Hospital yesterday, hospital tomorrow...
Went to have my ears looked at yesterday - because of ongoing dizziness - there is nothing wrong with them, apparently I am anaemic. I doubt it, but will ask the clinic tomorrow if this is a possibility.
Clinic tomorrow - have just been printing off abstracts to take with me and say "does this mean..." - I also found an article that said PGS does help with unexplained RPL. I find all this research published by people who might get paid for doing the therapies, on a piecework basis, against my deep-seated research-is-neutral biases. No-one pays me if they use the results of my findings, but those apocryphal "desperate couples" (i.e. us) are very likely to pay to go to a clinic that has published that therapy X may help someone in their situation. Fishy, I sometimes feel. Anyway I have two European articles and two US articles and both the US articles say PGD/S helps and one European article says it doesn't (and the other one is on risk factors).
I've been worrying more and more recently about my brother and the way he is (not) raising his daughters - posted for some advice on a forum I frequent - had some helpful and some not so helpful replies. Two people suggested my brother needs to "get some help", one of whom private-messaged me to ask if he was abusing my sister-in-law. I'm torn between "how dare she" and "yes, if she thought it might be happening, she should say something, even if she is way off and might well be projecting her own experiences". I replied with something slightly politer than the second.
Clinic tomorrow - have just been printing off abstracts to take with me and say "does this mean..." - I also found an article that said PGS does help with unexplained RPL. I find all this research published by people who might get paid for doing the therapies, on a piecework basis, against my deep-seated research-is-neutral biases. No-one pays me if they use the results of my findings, but those apocryphal "desperate couples" (i.e. us) are very likely to pay to go to a clinic that has published that therapy X may help someone in their situation. Fishy, I sometimes feel. Anyway I have two European articles and two US articles and both the US articles say PGD/S helps and one European article says it doesn't (and the other one is on risk factors).
I've been worrying more and more recently about my brother and the way he is (not) raising his daughters - posted for some advice on a forum I frequent - had some helpful and some not so helpful replies. Two people suggested my brother needs to "get some help", one of whom private-messaged me to ask if he was abusing my sister-in-law. I'm torn between "how dare she" and "yes, if she thought it might be happening, she should say something, even if she is way off and might well be projecting her own experiences". I replied with something slightly politer than the second.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Writer's block
I have been suffering from an extreme case of writer's paralysis at work, which has made me reluctant to try and write anything else - plus the usual technical difficulties meaning I can only really write on Blogger from one computer, and I haven't been at that one very much. Anyway I'm here. We went to see one of our favourite singer-songwriters on Friday and he talked about "writing the cr*p out". So I felt the urge to write something, but then had my usual post-stress (end of term) migraine yesterday. But today we went for a country walk along some extremely flat lanes in the sunshine. So that was good.
I was thinking the other day about waiting - and about how infertility and miscarriage both involve a lot of waiting, usually for CD1. Although this month's CD1 (Friday, if you care) was something I was slightly waiting for, it isn't as big as these genetic test results, which are still a week away. I can't believe how long it has seemed we've been waiting for them. I also know I've been feeling like they will automatically decide us one way or the other - and I'm trying to prepare myself for still feeling uncertain.
Dream Mommy over at You Could Always Adopt posted about an incredibly rude person asking "which of you can't have children"? Although no-one's asked us that I have a feeling that if one of us turns out to have a translocation, people will if we tell them what is happening. Unfortunately those people may be family, and therefore may have a right to know - I have several cousins without children, and one of Mr. Spouse's cousins has a 20-year-old son, and it would save a lot of heartbreak if they knew miscarriages were likely. When I say "people", I actually mean "my family". They are the nosy ones - and also, given their general irritating fertility, the ones that are less likely to actually have any business asking.
I was thinking the other day about waiting - and about how infertility and miscarriage both involve a lot of waiting, usually for CD1. Although this month's CD1 (Friday, if you care) was something I was slightly waiting for, it isn't as big as these genetic test results, which are still a week away. I can't believe how long it has seemed we've been waiting for them. I also know I've been feeling like they will automatically decide us one way or the other - and I'm trying to prepare myself for still feeling uncertain.
Dream Mommy over at You Could Always Adopt posted about an incredibly rude person asking "which of you can't have children"? Although no-one's asked us that I have a feeling that if one of us turns out to have a translocation, people will if we tell them what is happening. Unfortunately those people may be family, and therefore may have a right to know - I have several cousins without children, and one of Mr. Spouse's cousins has a 20-year-old son, and it would save a lot of heartbreak if they knew miscarriages were likely. When I say "people", I actually mean "my family". They are the nosy ones - and also, given their general irritating fertility, the ones that are less likely to actually have any business asking.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
£6K
That's what the dental treatment that Mr. Spouse probably needs will cost. It's also, coincidentally, the cost of one round of IVF+PGD, give or take. Good thing we have plenty of equity in the house - that's what comes of both of you moving into one house, both from more expensive cities.
I was at a small, friendly conference last week and shared with the colleague (from a different institution) who gave me a lift a small taste of our difficulties - while mainly talking about my horror at my brother's childrearing (or lack thereof) principles. One of the main things I'm concerned about is that he smacks his older girl, and I imagine will do so with the younger one when she's a bit older. If we adopt, then I'm not sure I would actually dare leave my children alone with him. Even if we had birth children, I'd be very wary, but for a child who has experienced abuse to be smacked - well, you can imagine.
This is sort of by way of saying that we are starting to think about adoption again. Ironically I think we are more likely to decide in favour if there is nothing wrong with either of our chromosomes - though I'm sure you all understand that, because nothing wrong = no fix. I was thinking about this after my conversation with C on the way to the conference and decided when I got home to have another look at the copy of Children Who Wait* which had arrived a few weeks ago. But there was a new one. One little girl - now aged exactly 12 months - had been in the previous two issues, and is half British, half-country-I-lived-in-for-2-years. There are children of a surprising variety of nationalities - I counted about 5 European ones plus American - usually the SW depts ask for a family that can "reflect and promote" or "reflect or promote" the child's ethnic origin (perceval, I haven't seen any part-German kids but I'm sure they are in the system - neglectful families come in all ethnicities). They were also looking for a family who were practicing Christians, though this particular child was a "reflect AND" not a "reflect OR". The nationality bit made me go "ooh" and the Christian bit made Mr. Spouse go "ooh". So even if this child is not for us, it made us think. I'm trying not to Google the meaning of her first name (it is similar to the name a friend over there's son has)
We are going to our next appointment just before Easter and have a nice break in London (with the clinic open evening) and Belgium (with beer and chocolate. Fruit beer. Mmm... Guess who's given up alcohol for Lent??) and the Isle of Wight (long story). We plan to touch base with our social worker briefly before going away, on the assumption that she won't make an appointment for a few weeks anyway, if that's what we decide to do.
*if you don't know it, it's a publication in which local authority social work departments can advertise children who are looking for adoptive families, who are "hard to place" for one reason or another. They have to pay for this so don't do it if they can avoid it.
I was at a small, friendly conference last week and shared with the colleague (from a different institution) who gave me a lift a small taste of our difficulties - while mainly talking about my horror at my brother's childrearing (or lack thereof) principles. One of the main things I'm concerned about is that he smacks his older girl, and I imagine will do so with the younger one when she's a bit older. If we adopt, then I'm not sure I would actually dare leave my children alone with him. Even if we had birth children, I'd be very wary, but for a child who has experienced abuse to be smacked - well, you can imagine.
This is sort of by way of saying that we are starting to think about adoption again. Ironically I think we are more likely to decide in favour if there is nothing wrong with either of our chromosomes - though I'm sure you all understand that, because nothing wrong = no fix. I was thinking about this after my conversation with C on the way to the conference and decided when I got home to have another look at the copy of Children Who Wait* which had arrived a few weeks ago. But there was a new one. One little girl - now aged exactly 12 months - had been in the previous two issues, and is half British, half-country-I-lived-in-for-2-years. There are children of a surprising variety of nationalities - I counted about 5 European ones plus American - usually the SW depts ask for a family that can "reflect and promote" or "reflect or promote" the child's ethnic origin (perceval, I haven't seen any part-German kids but I'm sure they are in the system - neglectful families come in all ethnicities). They were also looking for a family who were practicing Christians, though this particular child was a "reflect AND" not a "reflect OR". The nationality bit made me go "ooh" and the Christian bit made Mr. Spouse go "ooh". So even if this child is not for us, it made us think. I'm trying not to Google the meaning of her first name (it is similar to the name a friend over there's son has)
We are going to our next appointment just before Easter and have a nice break in London (with the clinic open evening) and Belgium (with beer and chocolate. Fruit beer. Mmm... Guess who's given up alcohol for Lent??) and the Isle of Wight (long story). We plan to touch base with our social worker briefly before going away, on the assumption that she won't make an appointment for a few weeks anyway, if that's what we decide to do.
*if you don't know it, it's a publication in which local authority social work departments can advertise children who are looking for adoptive families, who are "hard to place" for one reason or another. They have to pay for this so don't do it if they can avoid it.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Knitting again
The girl in the house down the road/office over the corridor has had her baby - rather late - she was hanging around work two days ago looking very bored. Baby's first name - same as my niece. Baby's second name - same as my mum (whose second name is the same as my other niece). And, in fact, one of my preferred names for girls - though if we adopt obviously we will get no choice in first names, but could use it as a second name.
Time to get knitting again - a very good way of not dwelling on things I find.
Time to get knitting again - a very good way of not dwelling on things I find.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Erm... okay
Haven’t been particularly well – I have a recurrent inner ear inflammation (symptoms – dizziness, slight nausea, can’t drive or ride my bike, tired, doctor prescribes something which I think is antihistamine) which I suspect flares up when I’m busiest because it’s stress related; and I’ve been very busy at work; and I can’t really blog at work because a) I don’t have time and b) Blogger and Macs don’t mix; and I don’t really want to blog from the PC at home because I would rather veg on the sofa. Hence no posts.
I read the article on miscarriage that Thalia linked to, and emailed the authors to ask if they had analysed their risk factors separately for recurrent miscarriers. I did phrase it in fairly statistical terms so hopefully it will have made sense to them (though I am not a statistician, medics think that only statisticians know about statistics, but psychologists are supposed to do their own statistics, so I sound a little like I know what I’m talking about, but medics never believe that I do anyway). But they haven’t replied. However apart from some minor things (like multivitamins, which are probably just an indicator of a) caring or b) eating properly in general), the article also had a strong suggestion that stress – either one-off or long term- has a significant impact on miscarriage. And I have only ever got pregnant out of university term times, and two of my miscarriages have been during busy teaching periods. Including this last one. And I am beginning to wonder if I should really be pregnant and working; and of course feeling very guilty and sad that dashing around between 4w and 5w could have been bad for this one, when I ended up off work at 5w anyway. Something else to talk to the consultant about, I think.
Speaking of which, after a bit of phone runaround, the consultant’s secretary thinks my FSH/LH must be fine (or the consultant would have given her some wording to the contrary to send/tell me) but the genetic tests aren’t back yet. I assume that it’s quicker to do PGD than to do this because they know what they are looking for – clearly people can’t wait 10 weeks for genetic testing on an embryo. I’m going to ring again 2 weeks before our early April appointment, anyway, just in case. I’ve booked us in for an open evening at Small But Perfectly Formed Clinic which a) does PGD and b) happens to be right round the corner from our bijoux flat-ette pied-a-terre type thing. If we did IVF there we’d have to consider not just the cost of treatment but the lost income… But as we’ve just watched the Money Programme “The Cost of Kids” (£180K per child, pregnancy-18, apparently) and have decided any children are only having Oxfam or Freecycle clothes and equipment, perhaps we’ll save at that end…
I read the article on miscarriage that Thalia linked to, and emailed the authors to ask if they had analysed their risk factors separately for recurrent miscarriers. I did phrase it in fairly statistical terms so hopefully it will have made sense to them (though I am not a statistician, medics think that only statisticians know about statistics, but psychologists are supposed to do their own statistics, so I sound a little like I know what I’m talking about, but medics never believe that I do anyway). But they haven’t replied. However apart from some minor things (like multivitamins, which are probably just an indicator of a) caring or b) eating properly in general), the article also had a strong suggestion that stress – either one-off or long term- has a significant impact on miscarriage. And I have only ever got pregnant out of university term times, and two of my miscarriages have been during busy teaching periods. Including this last one. And I am beginning to wonder if I should really be pregnant and working; and of course feeling very guilty and sad that dashing around between 4w and 5w could have been bad for this one, when I ended up off work at 5w anyway. Something else to talk to the consultant about, I think.
Speaking of which, after a bit of phone runaround, the consultant’s secretary thinks my FSH/LH must be fine (or the consultant would have given her some wording to the contrary to send/tell me) but the genetic tests aren’t back yet. I assume that it’s quicker to do PGD than to do this because they know what they are looking for – clearly people can’t wait 10 weeks for genetic testing on an embryo. I’m going to ring again 2 weeks before our early April appointment, anyway, just in case. I’ve booked us in for an open evening at Small But Perfectly Formed Clinic which a) does PGD and b) happens to be right round the corner from our bijoux flat-ette pied-a-terre type thing. If we did IVF there we’d have to consider not just the cost of treatment but the lost income… But as we’ve just watched the Money Programme “The Cost of Kids” (£180K per child, pregnancy-18, apparently) and have decided any children are only having Oxfam or Freecycle clothes and equipment, perhaps we’ll save at that end…
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Another weekend, another birthday
I'm getting very blasé about this... we have a big (local) party tonight which is a surprise in that I don't know where it is, and everyone else thinks I don't know about it, but Mr. Spouse had to ask me who to invite. Tomorrow we're going to see Eddie Reader and next week The Producers. It's all go! But one of my best friends can't come as she was up all night as her hospital was supposed to be admitting people from the train crash (Not Many Injured) - although they actually didn't, they had to clear all the beds...
My period turned up on Thursday, politely avoiding my birthday, and Ash Wednesday (2 years, liturgically, after we saw an empty sac the first time round), when I had a negative (cheapo) test - glad I didn't waste the good ones. Thursday I felt so crampy and sick and tired and just wanted to glaze in front of the telly and Mr. Spouse felt the same (well, not crampy obviously, but he's getting over a nasty cold) and I mentioned an appointment or something and he said "I don't feel like doing either IVF or adoption" and I didn't feel I could say anything because he was clearly just as out of it as me (and he went to bed at 10pm, unheard of). He did clarify yesterday that he meant he didn't feel like doing anything now, and that is exactly how I feel too. But I got rather panicky for a moment.
My period turned up on Thursday, politely avoiding my birthday, and Ash Wednesday (2 years, liturgically, after we saw an empty sac the first time round), when I had a negative (cheapo) test - glad I didn't waste the good ones. Thursday I felt so crampy and sick and tired and just wanted to glaze in front of the telly and Mr. Spouse felt the same (well, not crampy obviously, but he's getting over a nasty cold) and I mentioned an appointment or something and he said "I don't feel like doing either IVF or adoption" and I didn't feel I could say anything because he was clearly just as out of it as me (and he went to bed at 10pm, unheard of). He did clarify yesterday that he meant he didn't feel like doing anything now, and that is exactly how I feel too. But I got rather panicky for a moment.
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