Fingers and toes crossed

The tests I did after our first consultation at the private fertility clinic weren’t good news. I was assuming I’d be put into the borderline category (lower fertility but still some time left) which is the only category they advise IVF for. But I was unprepared for the test results to be so low.

Bloody hell. I’d spent the months following my miscarriage in December getting the courage and a bit more strength to face the possibility of IVF, and now that choice had been taken from me.

The results also surprised the consultant, mainly based on the fact that I’d been pregnant only a few months before and my cycle still being very regular. It just doesn’t add up.

The suggested course of action was to try IUI again. Since I’ve had a ‘successful’ IUI, when the percentage of success is very low (something like 10%), we should feel more positively that it will work again. So I started my fourth double course of Clomid, taking it at night again to hopefully avoid any side effects.

The difference between doing IUI privately as opposed to the NHS is that the weekend is exactly the same as a weekday and the timing of the procedure is more precise, rather than when they have time to do it. I had a scan on Friday to see how things were progressing. I had another scan on Saturday and again on Sunday. While it was a bit annoying going back and forth every day, I felt very taken care of and liked the attention to detail.

Sunday I had my shot of Pregnyl (which is the dried urine of pregnant women… I’ll give you a moment to contemplate that…) which triggers ovulation approximately 36 hours later. The other times Roberto injected me which let me be a complete baby, although he is fabulous at giving injections. This time I had to be brave as the stinging solution entered my leg.

We had the procedure on Monday. It’s a strange experience sitting in the waiting room with other couples waiting to do the same thing, watching men being called and not wanting to know what they’re about to do, wondering why everyone else seems to look incredibly relaxed as if they’re only waiting to board a flight and wondering if they’re thinking the same thing about me.

I AM feeling very positive, even if I’m also feeling quite impatient for the two weeks to pass. My counsellor suggested not only doing things that help me relax over the next fortnight, but also some fun things, and not to put life on hold as we wait.

So I’m enjoying life and relaxing as I’m keeping my fingers and toes and legs and arms crossed.

Rays of hope

I was unnecessarily stressed before our IVF consultation yesterday; unnecessarily because for me it was just a chat with the consultant. We told her what had happened with Sofia and what has happened since, then she went through our medical notes related to the other fertility treatments we’ve had.

I was surprised (in a good way) that the consultant put very little focus on my age. In fact it was only me mentioning my age. So perhaps it’s just me obsessed with this?

She pointed out all the things in our favour, like all my past tests being fine, Roberto’s too, responding well to fertility drugs and managing to get pregnant through IUI. It was good to have an expert point out these things rather than just focusing on the fact that we haven’t gotten pregnant yet.

Now I’ll have an ORT (ovarian reserve test) and we’ll decide the best course of action from there. I was surprised (especially as now we’re paying privately for treatment) that IVF will be recommended only if my ovarian reserve is borderline; if it’s good or terrible they recommend IUI because they don’t see the point in doing a procedure that’s so invasive.

All in all I came out of the appointment feeling positive and supported, and ready to keep trying.

Biting the bullet

After 23 months of trying, three cycles of IUI and a miscarriage as a result of the third, we’re finally biting the bullet and having our initial IVF consultation tomorrow. Well, I say ‘we’, but it’s really been me putting it off, hoping month after month after month that we’d manage to get pregnant on our own.

Some of my friends have had trouble understanding my reluctance to start IVF, but I also think it’s very difficult from the outside to really understand the stress Roberto and I have coped with since Sofia died when we both tend to put on a happy face. The stress on our relationship has been enormous; when you’re both going through a trauma it’s so difficult to give the other person support while at the same time you’re struggling to stand on your own two feet. I always thought partners going through a tragedy together would have a much stronger relationship because of it, but that’s not necessarily the case.

So my main reluctance has had to do with the added strain going through IVF will have on both of us. Thankfully our relationship HAS strengthened over the past two years (and I wouldn’t have thought that was possible before) and we’ll take one small step at a time.