A Rollercoaster and a Money Tree

And, we're off..... We had the appointment at the clinic we found at the fertility fair in October (read about that at the end of this post) and we really really liked them. I began investigations the day after, hubby was booked for the following week and then we'd find out on 9th December the results and make a plan for next steps, whatever they turned out to be. I couldn't believe it was all moving so quickly and that by Christmas we'd know where we were, by the New Year we'd have a plan one way or another. After waiting for so long things were now moving very very quickly.

So. In I went for my investigations. As I tweeted at the time, it's very weird seeing your insides on a screen whilst a condom-covered wand is up your foo-foo...... Still, she was pleased with the follicles she saw but not pleased with the cysts she saw. Didn't really mean much without the blood test results admittedly but a good start. I haven't had internal ultrasound since 2013 so I was worried about follicle decline bearing in mind my age but she was happy with what she saw, although one of the cysts will need to be removed before we can start any treatment. I have a small one on my right ovary, which is fine, but the one on my left ovary is 3.5cm wide and covers the whole thing. This meant it was getting in the way of her seeing follicles but she thinks she did see some, all of which made the bloods even more important.

Hubby then went for his fun, which he found hilarious and took some pictures of his little booth to show me later, and so off we went to find out the results. I don't think I have ever felt so nervous, my stomach was twisted. But the results were fine, more than fine actually. I have ten follicles (six on one side, four on the other) and my AMH result was over 40. Hubby outdid me - his boys have 60.5m concentration, 71% motility and 60% morphology (I *think* I've remembered all the numbers correctly..... Even if I haven't we were told all our numbers were way above the average and absolutely nothing to worry about). The relief in the room was palpable. We started talking about next steps and booking things in. We left on an enormous high. And then reality set in.

Yes, both of us have checked out well above the averages (although they still won't know the state of my eggs, and therefore whether they'll actually make a viable embryo, until they take them out of me) and we're on for an IVF cycle early next year but we need to win the lottery. We've already given them £824 (and that's a saving of £250 as we had a voucher for a free initial consultation) and all this is to come:

Assuming my next period starts on time, I go back in early January for a saline sonogram (£395, similar to the HSG that I had before and hated - read about that here - to make sure my tubes are clear) and another internal ultrasound (£250) to see if the cyst is still there. If it's not, great, if it is then I need to be operated on to remove it (£800) before we can start any treatment. We then have a consultative appointment with a nurse later in January where we need to pay the initial £5545 and an additional £2000 for medication. This £5545 covers egg retrieval, fertilisation and all the associated blood tests and scans plus frozen embryo storage for one year. The embryos then get tested to see if they're viable (£600 per embryo) so they'll freeze the embryo(s) and do a biopsy. Depending on the results of the biopsies we'll know at that point how many viable embryos we have. Everything to this point we hopefully (!) only have to do once. Transfer is then £1800 per cycle, obviously if we don't get pregnant in the first cycle it's then £1800 for any following cycle to transfer an embryo - depending on how many we have to transfer and how many times we want to try this.

That's almost £10,000 to get to one viable embryo (more if we have more embryos) and all for a 5% success rate that the £1800 implantation will be a success. Apologies for all the information (which I'd imagine most of you guys know all about already!) and to be rather blunt about it but it's actually helped to write it all out. It is also incredibly overwhelming for us both. As much as we're relieved we've both checked out fine and we're thrilled to have the opportunity to do what medical advances allow us to, there is inevitably an annoyance that we have to do it in the first place since nothing is wrong with us and that the costs are so high with such low odds of success. I really really try to not be one for self pity but at the moment it just doesn't feel fucking fair. Something I know you can all relate to. We plan on talking to the bank about extending the mortgage, not the extent that it cripples us and leaves us unable to move further up the housing ladder, but there's no other way we can get that kind of money and obviously various other projects (new kitchen, new car, creating a driveway, sorting the back garden out, any holiday for the foreseeable future) are now on hold whilst we do this since we need to have the money by mid-January. I mean holy hell. How do you guys do this and just keep going?!

The euphoria that nothing is wrong and we can do this is absolutely tempered by the frustration that we should need to do it at all (but, quite frankly, despite the tests something is clearly wrong otherwise it would have happened by now) and by how much it costs bearing in mind the odds. I still haven't got over the emotional wringer of it all, it's been over a week now and I still find myself at my desk at work with tears constantly welling up in my eyes. As I think I've already said, we're not looking forward to Christmas but New Year should be lovely and then we're back on that rollercoaster whilst we're on the hunt for a money tree. Either way, 2020 should be quite a year.

Frustrating Families and Fertility Fairs

Apologies folks, this is likely to be a long one!


My family continue to annoy the living crap out of me. Every so often hubby jokes about saying 'let's just move to Canada', one of these days it won't be a joke.

A couple of months ago mum and I got back from church and again she started to ask questions about our TTC journey - had we done this and had we done that and she couldn't understand why we weren't just throwing everything at it. She said that the family still weren't comfortable that we were back together, there were things she wanted to say to hubby but the only time they'd seen him was my birthday and it hadn't seemed appropriate. My brother apparently also had a speech for him. Great.

She continued by saying that they needed to know what was going on otherwise they were going to make assumptions about things. I'm sorry, you *need* to know? No you don't. It is a private matter and the only people that need to know are the two of us. You want to know, and that is a completely different thing. You do not, I repeat, do not *need* to know!!! Do you have conversations with my brother about his sex life?! Because that is essentially what it amounts to. And of course when I said this, as calmly as I could, she immediately looked hurt and I felt like a bitch. I know her heart is in the right place but for goodness sake, back off woman. I'm not going into intricate detail about all manner of gizmos and things we're doing/trying to TTC. Go away.

And then there's my brother. Mum bottled out of her little 'speech' she wanted to give us both but my brother was never going to do that. Altho how exactly he was going to do it I had no idea since everything revolves around the children (obviously......) so we never get together without the kids. I don't think I've seen my brother socially without the children since they were born. Anyway, since my dad's dementia diagnosis my brother has run all sorts of marathons and done all manner of fund raising events and one of these was a quiz night coming up that he was due to host. An evening event, so no children. Hubby and I got a team together to enter but bro decided that he didn't want the first time he saw hubby to be at an event he was hosting. He wanted to see us to 'clear the air'. So the three of us met up during the week running up to the quiz so he could grill us. It was as much fun as you can imagine. What's changed? Why's it changed? What is different now? He wanted actual tangible evidence and examples. To his credit, hubby took it all. Why as a 40 year old woman I need to justify myself in this way I have no idea. And of course, hubby is still not allowed anywhere near the kids.

On a side note, against my wishes our quiz team name was decided as 'I really love my sister' and of course we won so the team name had to be read out numerous times, much to my brothers' chagrin. It's the small things 😊


It continues..........

In September we booked a two week break to our favourite hotel in Mexico that we've been to a few times before, but we ended up booking it much later than we wanted to. This turned out to be after the Thomas Cook crash so was more money than we wanted to pay but what the hell. We also booked it late as we thought I was pregnant, my period was late for the first time all year, but of course it was just my body fucking with me. I didn't want to go long haul if I was so we waited to book until we knew for certain, I did a test and of course I wasn't. Period arrived the next day, obviously. It took a massive emotional toll on me and two days later I had to face the whole family and more for dad's 70th birthday and I just fell apart, I couldn't hold it together. My brother strong armed me into a room with the words 'mum might be able to keep her mouth shut but I won't, in here now' and made me tell him what had happened. His reply?! 'I know how you feel, we took loads of pregnancy tests when we were trying'. Excuse me?!? You have three children!!!!!!!!!!! How can you POSSIBLY understand how I feel?!? FFS.

They're all still beyond sceptical about me and hubby being back together. My dad's now finished his chemo and they're probably going to do a stem cell transplant, they've had all the pre-appointments and he's in the middle of all the pre-tests so if all goes well they'll do it in January. The transplant is a really stressful operation that involves a long stay in hospital and is not something they usually do on a 70yr old due to additional risks, plus his dementia is getting worse. All of which of course is taking its toll on mum, which she seems to take out on me.

I spent an hour with her on a Sunday afternoon a couple of weeks ago, one hour, and we went to my local high street for coffee. I stupidly brought up the fertility fair we'd been to and the potential breakthroughs from it (more about that in a minute, let's get the all family shit over with first). I then had her going on and on and on about all the different options available but how low the odds were now, all of which she'd learnt from talking to her friends. And then came the stories of her friends' kids (they spent a fortune on IVF and got one kid but now none of her eggs are any good - she's only 32, they harvested thousands of eggs but only got one viable one - poor girl is only 29, they're on their second round of IVF but her job is so stressful it probably won't happen), she suggested I change my job, she went on and on about how, for her generation, none of this existed so people she knew were just told to go and get a hobby. So, bearing in mind everything that is available now, I owe it to her generation to try absolutely everything. It would be an insult if I didn't.

I was exhausted. The walk back to mine was excruciating. As we were saying goodbye at her car she thanked me for telling her things she didn't know were going on, she needed (again, *needed* !!) to know because if she didn't know she couldn't help. I couldn't bite my tongue any longer, told her how intrusive and invasive I found our family. That I had no other friends whose parents behaved like that, somethings just ARE private and she doesn't need to know it. I said I'd clearly been born into the wrong family. Her face fell. She thanked me for being honest. I felt like shit. Wish I hadn't said it but I just couldn't keep quiet. She sent me this text when I got home - 'It's not our family. It's me. My friends and I bare our souls and tell each other everything. I assume I can do same with you and your brother. Perhaps it's generational. I'll try and stop if I can. Sorry'. I told her she had nothing to apologise for, she was more than welcome to keep doing what she was doing she just needed to stop expecting me to reciprocate. She didn't reply to that.

There's a meme doing the rounds along with all the other pre-Christmas guff that is something along the lines of don't buy presents to buy love, don't visit your family if it damages your mental health, if anyone calls you fat eat them. Amusing but a serious message, I really do wish it was that easy. And talking of Christmas, that's all still massively up in the air due to the fact that (as usual) we're dictated by what my brother wants to do. If he decides to have a big family day at his house not only will it be rubbish for all the usual reasons but hubby won't be allowed to go. If my brother doesn't do anything then I'll volunteer locally, and hubby probably will with me, as I have done for the past two years but dad's too ill to do that now and mum won't do it without him so they'll be left by themselves - 'just the two of us, staring at the TV, how depressing'. Thanks mum. Guilt trip much?!

Anyway! I alluded earlier to some progress that we've made. A week after we got back from our holiday we attended a fertility fair in Central London. It was wonderful. We were both absolutely bowled over by the compassionate, informative and amazing people there. We overcame our initial nervousness and devoured all the information we could. The hope and positivity were catching. The only slight negative point came at the end of the evening when we went to a seminar entitled 'Fertility in Older Women'. The doctor giving the lecture, to his credit, said he didn't like the use of the term 'older women' but it was the title he was given so he was going with it! The stats spoke for themselves tho, I knew most of it already and had said most of it to hubby in the past but I think he always brushed me off and thought I was just being negative. To be hit with it all in such a professional manner and in such black and white terms really shook him. He had no idea our odds were so low now I was 40 and he left on quite the downer. We talked about it afterwards though and it's made us more determined than ever to try and make this work. Well, that and the fact he got absurdly broody on holiday as there seemed to be a higher than usual number of fathers with small children in the resort we were in.

So. Next week we have an appointment with a clinic in London that, so far at least, we really really like. It was a clinic we met at the fertility fair and we got on really well with them. We also have an appointment with another clinic early next year and a few other irons in the fire. As horrendous as Christmas will be we've booked to go away for New Year and are very excited about it - and for the first time in a long time I am actually starting to look forward to the future.

A Week in Hell

I wrote this the weekend after we got back from Center Parcs at the beginning of August. I then decided to step away from it for a while as it had been so painful and I wasn't sure if that would colour my writing. Reading it now a month later it just brings it all back and I realise again what a horrendous week it was. So, dear reader, here it is in all its undoctored glory...….



Aaaaah, the family holiday. A time to cherish, enjoy and make memories. Well, most of the time. Not so much if you're an infertile at a place designed for families with your own family - which includes a sister-in-law completely incapable of hiding her utter disdain at your mere existence.

It was all my mother's idea, she booked and paid for it around October last year. Way before my father's cancer diagnosis, but quite a while after he had been diagnosed with dementia. She wanted one more break away as a family to make memories. I knew full well it would be at the detriment of my mental health to go and spend that much time in close quarters with everyone. I also knew my mother would be heartbroken if I didn't go for anything other than the full week (well, five days, Mon to Fri). So, after a wonderful few days away in another city with hubby which we both thoroughly enjoyed, I unpacked and repacked and off I went. With the reaction to mine and hubby's re-coupling there was no way he was coming too so I was by myself, with people I didn't really get on with, surrounded by families. There are reminders all day everyday (adverts, baby-on-board badges, billboards, large bumps sat opposite me on my train to work) of my failure to create the life I want to live but here, wow, it was just thrown in my face every single day.

And then of course there was my sister-in-law. Who makes no attempt to hide her dislike of me, who never speaks to me, who makes me feel unwelcome in her own house to the point I hate going there. And so it was at Center Parcs, she did not engage with me once. She only ever spoke to me if I spoke to her - 'would you like a cup of tea?' 'no thank you'. Only once did she acknowledge my existence, in the water park one day my brother took oldest nephew on a flume and she joined a queue with youngest nephew for another flume - and passed me my niece. With no 'please can you take her' and no explanation of where I would meet them afterwards or asking if I would take her, she just put her in my arms and started to walk away. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled to have some time just my niece and me (even if it was mere moments) but I had to ask her where the flumes came out and she gave me some throw away directions that I didn't quite hear and left me. So my niece and I figured it out ourselves. Other than that though, she never made me feel welcome or as if she wanted me there. She would throw spiteful comments around. For example, my niece is quite a strong willed (!) two year old and will sometimes just stop walking. I was trying to encourage her and held my hand out towards her, to which SIL just walked to her and said 'come on mummy's girl' and scooped her up. As if to say 'she's mine, leave her alone'. We stayed in a four bed lodge so we had a room each, I had the room downstairs as mum knew I was likely to go to bed later than everyone else so I could have the run of the lounge and the kitchen without disturbing everyone else who would have gone to bed. There wasn't a communal bathroom, all rooms were en-suite, and so my bathroom would often be used by the nephews as it was downstairs. Each time they politely asked me if they could use it which was so sweet. One evening I asked them if either of them needed the toilet as I was about to go and have a shower. To which my SIL snapped 'they're perfectly capable of going upstairs'. Well, sorry I spoke.

One morning I opened my bedroom door and went back to bed. Within minutes eldest nephew appeared at the door so I held my arms out and he came to me for a hug. The other two soon followed and we were talking on my bed, them lying on it in various random positions and me under the covers. Two minutes later she yelled at them to get off the bed as beds weren't for jumping on, they wouldn't do that at home. They weren't jumping on the bed, they were talking to me. And this isn't their home they're on holiday, heaven forbid they spend any time with just me.

There were also some rather painful conversations with my mum thrown into the mix - apparently I don't want kids enough as I'm not making the right decisions (find another fertility clinic, just sign up for adoption, I'll give you half the money for IVF etc etc) and then my brother, wow. Apparently hubby and I should work at cementing our relationship before we worry about kids, we have plenty of time. He said that I was worrying about nothing, loads of women get pregnant in their 40s and 50s. When I tried to tell him that it was probably assisted conception and/or donor eggs but people just don't talk about it, he told me not to be so ridiculous.

One evening my brother and SIL went out, just the two of them, and mum babysat. I was in the lodge at the same time but of course - I am not trusted with them. They sent a video to say goodnight to the boys, mum couldn't get it to work on her phone so I recorded their message back and sent it on. Mum then took them up to get ready for bed and I took a photo of the baby monitor to send on so they knew my niece was safely tucked up and sleeping. The response I got back? 'I thought mum was babysitting?!'. Charming.

The last day was the absolute worst though. Mum and Dad had to leave early morning on the last day as Dad had a hospital appointment, which meant it was me and them for the last few hours. We all went swimming one more time but yet again it couldn't be clearer that SIL didn't want me there. My brother took both nephews to go on a flume and so she stood with my niece at the bottom waiting for them to come out. I joined her, my niece looked at me and smiled. Seeing this, my SIL took her off to the small shallow 'Lagoon Pool' next door without a word to me. So I just stayed at the bottom of the flumes and tried not to cry.

They had lunch before they went (she'd said to the two nephews earlier, in clear earshot of me, that wouldn't it be nice if just the five of them had lunch together before they drove home and so I knew I wouldn't be welcome) and they knew there would be a wait for the table so went to the restaurant. I asked my brother if I could buy the kids something as a souvenir of the trip. SIL stayed at the restaurant and the five of us went to the shop, they all picked something and I paid. Outside the shop they all said thank you and we had big hugs and kisses goodbye. My brother isn't at all tactile so we just had a usual bye - and then they all walked off. So no final words from SIL or to her, although I know she wouldn't have said anything to me even if she had been there to say goodbye to. I took myself off to the nearest toilet and sobbed for 20 minutes. I then walked to my car and drove home.

Hubby had been doing lots of overtime at work that week as he knew he'd miss me, but on the Friday he finished early and came over with flowers. I told him a lot of this and he just didn't get it, why had I gone in the first place?! He made me promise I wouldn't go away with them ever again if this is what it did to me.

If I can give her a semblance of credit, and it does pain me to do this but still, I don't think it's personal per se. I think she just doesn't want anyone, just the five of them. Obviously her friends and family are slightly different but she has a decent enough relationship with my parents - my mum looks after the kids and my dad, despite his illnesses, has helped around the house and with various advisory things. I have absolutely no use to her whatsoever. And despite lecturing me last year on the memories she wanted her kids to make as she had such fond memories of her aunts and uncles the way she acts and the way she makes me feel absolutely contradicts those words. She's still blocked me on all social media.

So I am keeping that promise to hubby, I really am never EVER going to do anything like that again.

Coming Clean

So. I finally bit the bullet and told the family the weekend before last that hubby and I were back together. It was as horrendous as I thought it would be.

We were all over at my parents, so I managed to find a time when the four of us were together and my sister-in-law was with the kids. I started with 'I'm currently seeing someone and he makes me very happy' - my mum squealed and put her arms around me. I then looked up to catch my brother's eye, who had obviously sensed there was more to it, and when I said it was hubby the mood noticeably changed. None of them were happy for me. None of them could understand why. Apparently I have given him far too many chances and we should be divorced by now, I should have moved on.

My brother doesn't want him to see the kids for a year until he's proved himself and my mum wants a physical list of evidence of things he's done to prove he's changed. All of them are beyond sceptical, thinking I'm settling and taking the easy option. There was more but I don't have the energy to write it out, essentially they just kept asking 'why' and I kept saying 'he makes me happy' but that wasn't good enough. Ironically enough, my sister-in-law was the only one who treated me like an adult. When I told her she said she thought I was crazy but if it's what I wanted then fair enough. She just hoped he could give me everything I wanted. I said to my dad, when we had a moment one-on-one before I left, that hubby genuinely had changed and that things were different. I said there really was no way on earth I would still be with him now, after a year, if things hadn't changed. I would have kicked him to the kerb and divorced him. The fact I haven't is a good thing.

Talking to my mum after my brother had left I said I didn't want to do anything for my birthday this year (it's in a few weeks' time), I was only doing something because she wanted me to. She then said that I'd do things with friends wouldn't I, I said I hadn't decided yet (genuinely true) but that hubby was taking me out for the day - and she took offence to that. See, she said, you're fine spending time with your friends you just don't want to spend time with your family. She continued to say that maybe I shouldn't be part of such an emotionally dependent family, maybe I should move away. Yes to the first bit but I'm sorry - I like where I live and I'm not moving at the whim of family so I don't spend more time with them! How fucked up is that??!? Can't they just give me the space I need from them and not expect me to drop all my plans and see them whenever they want to get together? Oh my.

The next morning I was over there again and I had follow up conversation with mum, she was almost apoplectic and sobbing saying that all she has ever wanted was just to love her family but that I have always seen her as controlling and an ogre when all she wants to do is spend as much time with me as possible before her time is up. I said I'd never thought of her like that, if she did think that it was all in her head and then she accused me of emotional blackmail - saying that I always saw her as the bad guy when she wasn't, that I was stupid expecting them all to be ok with my decision and be happy for me. She then went on to say that when I ask her to back off (usually when I'm really busy or not in a good place so can't deal with her neediness) she does because she knows it's what I want despite it going against every fibre of her being, she is desperate to get in touch to the point where it break her heart and she doesn't sleep for worry. And she's saying all this whilst crying her eyes out. Now who's doing the emotional blackmail?! Fuck's sake.

She then moved on to slate my counsellor, she said that there was a lot of research now that showed counselling could do more harm than good as you're emotionally open to what you want to hear and everything can be twisted. She carried on to say that the one thing she loved about our family, the four of us, was the honesty. That we could be completely and utterly honest with each other. If only she knew!! I do a lot of things that are not good for me and my mental health for the sake of the family and knowing it's what they want. I am not honest about these things, about the fact we have far too much contact than my sanity can cope with. But I'd rather harm myself than hurt them so there you go.

I have never ever thought of her as controlling and nor have I ever thought of her as an ogre. I am not honest with her however, as I know it would break her heart if she knew how I really felt and so I break me instead. What I do think is that she is intrusive, emotionally needy and a drain on me to the point where, as I said before, I have to push her away and gain some distance for the sake of my own mental health. And when she says that that's when she can't sleep for worry and her heart breaks, she wonders why I lie to her about how I feel??!!?

In a very very strange way I'm actually glad that I'm not pregnant at the moment because I think if I'd told them that as well they would have exploded. Later that evening I texted my brother to see how the rest of their weekend had gone to get the reply of 'Trying to keep the conversation normal I see'. I give up.

All the Cs

(with apologies, I wrote most of this over a month ago.......)

Well. That was a fucking waste of time.

When I was emailing the fertility clinic to try and sort an appointment with them, the latest time I was told we could book was 3.30pm (which meant I had to sneak out of work at 2pm!!) as they close at 5pm and that's how long initial appointments took. Hhmmmmm. On the day, it turned out that we went in at 3.45pm and were done by 4.15pm. The quickest £200 I think I've ever spent. It was all incredibly impersonal, it felt like a business transaction and a sales pitch. Nothing personal at all, nothing to make us think that they were aware of the sensitivity or pain that might come with the person they were talking to - us or someone else. The doctor didn't introduce himself to us and told us absolutely nothing that we didn't know already. Went through our historical tests in a very matter-of-fact, practical, way and then told us about how the immune system reacts to pregnancy and that, if we wanted, we could have additional tests with them to check if my immune system was attacking any potential embryo - at a cost of £800. He asked no lifestyle questions at all despite what we'd listed on our forms and we were told to go back to our doctors for more blood tests, another scan for me and another semen analysis for hubby. And that was that. Bye from him. We were then ushered to a Nurse who was one of those 'I think I'm so hilarious and I'm your best friend' people which we just found very very grating. We both left not wanting to give them any more of our money.

The following weekend, I found out that my Dad has bone cancer and will start chemo shortly. They've found it early and he has an 80% chance of beating it but he'll always be in remission if he does and, you know, it's cancer and chemo on an already fragile almost 70 year old with early onset Alzheimers. The whole family were round at my parents and my mum took the two oldest nephews to the park by their house leaving me, my brother, my sister in law and my niece (who is still under 2) with my Dad. Due to his dementia he'd obviously wanted to make sure he was saying the right things and hadn't missed anything out so had typed and printed out his little speech to read. Because of where I was sitting compared to where my brother was sitting I saw the first sentence before Dad said it, despite him trying to hide it from me, so I had about ten seconds to process it before Dad said the words out loud. My brother didn't hear him correctly so I repeated it. My brother stopped what he was doing, put his head in his hands and sobbed. Actually sobbed, and didn't take his face out of his hands until Dad had stopped talking. When he did it was bright red and so SIL went to sit next to him. I asked all the questions that had come into my head whilst sat alone on the other side of the room. It was quite sobering to see my brother like that.

Once all the questions were over, SIL took my niece to the front door to wait for the others to get back from the park and Dad followed them. My brother took me in the biggest bear hug ever. This is someone who shows no emotion to me at all. Has only ever kissed my cheek once in the past 20 years and that was on my wedding day, I think the last time he hugged me before this was ten years ago. It's just not in his character. We held each other until we heard the front door go, pulled ourselves together and awaited the onslaught of the boys. We were all then back in the same room and the first thing, the very first thing, my SIL said to my Mum is about the logistics of childcare as my Mum won't be around as much due to Dad's chemo (his chemo is scheduled for the same day a week that she currently has their kids). The very first thing she said, whilst my brother was sat next to her with a still very red and puffy face from the sobbing. I mean, fair enough, she's a mum of three who earns fuck all it's bound to cross her mind - but the VERY FIRST thing you say?!?!? I had no words.

This has, of course, exacerbated my Mum's emotional neediness. To be fair, her life has already taken quite the hit with the dementia and of course this isn't what anyone signs up for in retirement. But she clings to me like a limpet, my brother is obviously far too busy with a stressful job and three children to ask him to do things or be in touch with him so frequently so it falls on me. There was one day recently she texted me at 2pm and again at 5pm, both of which times I was at work and I would have remembered to text her back later that evening or the following morning, but by 8pm I had a 'are you ok? Is anything wrong?' text..........

The day after Dad's announcement Mum texted me to ask how I was and she said I sounded chirpy. Well, not meaning to be blunt about it but I am well aware how utterly shit and fucking unfair life can be. I'm not entirely sure my brother has been hit full in the face with that yet. He is 38 and has ticked all the boxes you're supposed to by that age - job, house, kids, wife, dog. I'm not saying his life is easy (his wife is a stupid manipulative bitch and he has three kids under 7 and one hell of a commute to a difficult job) and I'm not saying he hasn't working incredibly hard for it - but he's got it. Everything he wanted in life he's got so - you know - I'm probably dealing with it better?!? Except I'm not. Initially I might have been but at the moment work is, again, the only thing keeping me going. I stare at my computer screen at the end of the day and don't want to go home. At weekends I feel like I have no purpose and I just don't want to get out of bed. I'm crying a lot and I'm angry a lot. I feel acutely aware of the empty chasm in my life without children. I am lethargic with little motivation for anything, I don't want to read about my Dad's diagnosis or know anything more about it. I can feel myself slipping again, making bad food and drink choices (not exactly a good idea bearing in mind we're still, obviously, trying to conceive). I just want to sleep. I don't want to see people. So I'm back in therapy again, I've had my first appointment with my counsellor and feel so much better already. Fingers crossed that continues.


So. There we go. All the Cs - a crappy clinic, cancer and counselling.

Drowning in Pain and Paperwork

Well. We started using blue pill in February, and have therefore had two full cycles with plenty of sex. However, we're still having issues. Apologies for the detail here (but I've never been one to shirk the detail!), but we had sex four times the first cycle and five times the second. However, and this is the clincher, hubby only ejaculated once. Once. ONCE. Granted, I do think that worked but I somehow lost it (read the details here) but that's not the point. He cannot get to where he needs to. The sex is very enjoyable but something just doesn't work for him; he says he enjoys it, finds me sexually attractive and desperately wants it to work. It works when he's by himself (!) but for whatever reason when he is with me he might get close but doesn't actually get there.

Beyond frustrating for both of us. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to be getting laid so often! Genuinely. The only trouble is now it's not just about getting laid, things need to happen otherwise I'm just not going to get pregnant. So the decision has been made, we've phoned our local fertility clinic and made an appointment. I love the NHS but they won't do anything for us now bearing in mind my age and even if they could I'm not sure we could wait for a referral, again due to my age. So our first appointment is booked (at quite the cost, even for just an 'Initial Consultation' as they call it) for a couple of weeks' time and we'll see where we go from there.

Now, I don't want to sound horrendously naive about this but I'm really hoping all we'll need is IUI. I mean, we've both already had countless tests done and we were both fine. Admittedly all my invasive tests were last done in 2013 but I had a load of blood tests done again in 2017 when I was considering my options. However I've read on their website that IUI only has a 10-15% success rate per cycle. Really?! Is that it? I genuinely thought it would be higher. That seems terribly low........

I've also now printed out the myriad of forms we need to fill in before we even get to the appointment. Consent to use of email, patient history form, patient registration form, terms and conditions acceptance form, HFEA consent to disclose information, HFEA welfare of the child form and on and on and on. Now, I know for most of you none of this is going to be new but holy hell - so many forms. SO much detail. And then it consumes me. This just isn't fair. People fall pregnant at the drop of a hat, so many might not get pregnant that easily but do fall eventually. I genuinely do realise that it's a totally self-absorbed point of view but I can't help it. I know a lot of you have gone through far more or at the very least started this process ages ago and are no doubt rolling your eyes to my reaction as you've been there, done that and got the proverbial t-shirt. But I just can't help thinking that we've been through so much already to get to this point, we so desperately want children, we'd make great parents. The pain is just unbearable.

To top it all off we've just had Mother's Day (or Mothering Sunday as I prefer to call it, you don't have to be a 'mother' to be 'mothering' - if you get my drift) in the UK and, as usual, I'm surrounded by reminders of the fact I don't have children. My own mother knows nothing of this, I'm not sure I want to tell her to be honest due to the relationship I have with her. I love her dearly but I couldn't stand her fussing and asking questions, not least because she doesn't know hubby and I back together! She knows that I am currently the happiest I have been in a very very very long time (despite this post, that is true, there's just one thing missing......) but always questions me to ask why. I can't tell her, I will one day. I think it all depends on how this appointment goes to be honest. Without meaning to sound like a complete coward (or, again, naive) if it looks like things could happen quite quickly then I'll hold off - I'd rather tell my family as and when I have 'additional' news. But if this is going to drag out for months (which I think is likely, sadly) I'm just going to have to come out with it at some point. And sooner rather than later to get it over with I think. Urgh.

Loss

I've been told I can be quite cold hearted. That I don't actually *need* anyone else, and to a certain extent that's true. I've always been more than happy with my own company. In the years in my 20s when I was single I had no issue at all traveling by myself (long distance, not just within the UK), going to football games and gigs by myself and generally enjoying my own company. I am incredibly self-sufficient, I don't need anyone else in my life. Don't get me wrong, I have fabulous friends and I love hanging out with them. But I've just never been one that couldn't cope on her own. I more than cope, I thrive.

My mum I love dearly but we're very very very different people and, to be honest, the vast majority of the time she annoys the living crap out of me. I know the reasons she behaves why she does, it's to do with her childhood, so I do not blame her at all but nevertheless I'm not entirely sure I'll mourn her passing. Apologies if that sounds blunt but there you go. My father I absolutely adore, but due to his illness the man I knew as my father I said goodbye to at least a year ago - if not longer. If he had died two years ago I would have been lost, totally and utterly drowned in my own grief. But now? Now is a different story. I'm not entirely sure I'd mourn his passing either.

Therefore it has slightly sideswiped me when the mother of one of my closest friends died at the weekend. She had been ill for some time but I still refused to fully accept she was as ill as she was. I always thought she'd come back, she was a wonderful woman and so so strong. Funny, generous and I loved her desperately. In some ways I loved her more than my own mother. I have a bond with my mother that no one else can replace, I know that, but I have never had the relationship with my mother that I had with this woman. I would walk into her house and she'd treat me like one of her daughters (she had two of her own, the eldest I have been friends with for almost 20 years now). She didn't live locally, she was over 200 miles away, but I saw her as often as I could. I, obviously, now wish I had seen her more. I'd walk in and she'd just poor me a glass of wine, my own mother constantly lectures me about how much I drink and the drinking problem that she perceives I have. This woman would never ever judge me, my own mother - despite always saying she was coming to see me and not my house, would always turn her nose up when she walked through my door if the place was anything other than pristine. Which I don't think it ever was.

I have not yet experienced loss like this. I had lost all my grandparents by the age of 24. My dad only had his mum when I was born and she died when I was 12 so I don't think I was old enough to even understand what was going on. My mum's parents died within a year of each other in my early twenties and I was never that close to them. Partly because they lived 80 miles away and partly because, by my adulthood, I was well aware of what they'd put my mum through and I wasn't sure I actually liked them. I didn't particularly grieve either of those passings. My dad's sister, also my godmother, died in 2015. She was ten years older than my father and almost felt like a surrogate grandmother. Up until now, it had been her death that had affected me the most. But even that grief has not hit me like this has.

She has two daughters in their thirties, one with a three year old. I feel guilty for feeling as I do. What right to I have to feel this hurt and this loss, this grief that is ripping my insides apart, when she has closer family than I. I don't want to tread on her daughters' toes, I don't want to assume my place in her life meant more to her than someone else's. It's something I'm grappling with, it is not my mother. It is not someone I saw frequently (altho that was more geography, I'm now wishing I had seen her so much more than I managed to. I hadn't seen her for eighteen months). But I can't help how I feel. I don't want to feel I'm taking the spotlight, which I know is a crass way of putting it but I hope you know what I mean. Despite how I feel it is not my mother who has passed.

There is a part of me that thinks that a life has to leave this world for another to be created. And, whilst my body is seriously fucking me around this month, it's still possible that I'm pregnant (we won't find out for definite for at least another week or two) and all I could think was why her. If you had to take someone to make the space for a new life could you not have taken someone else??!? But then if I am going to be granted my miracle child, surely someone as special as this lady (and oh my god was she special) has to be the one to make way.

But I miss her. SO much. I just want to hear her voice one more time, her laugh. I want her to hug me, squeeze me. Just once more.

Endgame

Well, the blue pills are still working. No doubt about that one!! And if you'd offered me the sex life we have now (altho I'd still like it a bit more frequently admittedly, but fact is we're still living apart and I'm out most evenings in the week at the moment) two years ago I would have bitten your arm off for it. Literally probably!! But this is not two years ago. This is now. And I'm less then six months to the age of 40.

Yes, the pills are working. Yes, we're having sex. But there is still one thing missing that needs to happen if we're going to conceive. Please don't make me say it...… But yes, we're not getting 'endgame'. He's not getting to the point he needs to to be able to do what we need to do. We're not sure why, never used to be a problem. Yet again, something else gets taken away just as another puzzle piece falls in to place.

But then it happened. On an evening when I was due to ovulate the following day. Perfect timing! I didn't want to get my hopes up but it was the closest we'd ever made it timings wise. I tried not to think about it. But then I felt myself ovulate the following day as planned (yes yes I know, I'm a freak. I've always been able to feel it) and over the course of the next week there was more twinges. As if things were fusing together, things were changing. I could feel it. It was the weirdest thing. I noticed hormonal changes that I wouldn't usually have at that particular time in my cycle. I wanted to ignore it but the little voice in the back of my head just got louder and louder 'you're pregnant, you're pregnant'. Absolutely absurd, I had no proof of this other than knowing what I was feeling within my own body. But I couldn't shut the voice up. I tried to tell myself I was just being positive, that I knew it was unlikely to have happened and I knew I needed to ignore the voice for another few weeks. But it got harder and harder.

Then I went out with my mum to an exhibition, ten days after hubby and I had finally got there. And all of a sudden something changed, I felt something detach. I knew I'd lost it. The voice was silent and no matter how hard I tried to hear it it just wasn't there anymore. I wanted the ground to just open up and swallow me. But there I was, out for the day with my mum. Who, of course, knows absolutely nothing (despite constantly asking me a hundred questions and it's getting harder and harder to fob her off. I mean, why does she NEED to know everything??!?). I waited until I got home. I cried. And I have not stopped. Again, absurd. Can you mourn for the loss of something you didn't actually know for certain that you had in the first place? But it felt like I did know, even though I couldn't have done. A different kind of endgame. And so now I just wait for it to be confirmed.

Let's See How Deep The Rabbit Hole Goes

Now, Christmas. And yes, I realise it is now February! But still, I didn't really manage to snap out of my Grinchness (which you can read about here) sadly and work, as usual, was nuts in January. So. The weekend before Christmas was lovely, hubby and I went out for the day on the Saturday and we also spent Christmas Eve together. I opened up to him about how I was feeling over a drink on Christmas Eve, told him that I'd come to a realisation and that I was not at all in the Christmas spirit per se but as a Christian I was absolutely ready to celebrate Christ's birth. I said that I found this a very strange but lovely place to be and it gave me very mixed feelings. He promptly suggested we walk to the local church later for midnight mass. I was so touched and it was a wonderful service, just what I needed.

Christmas Day itself was spent volunteering at a centre giving Christmas lunch to those that wouldn't otherwise have had it (elderly that were alone, homeless, families on food banks) and again, it was very enjoyable. Boxing Day was also much better than I thought it would ever be. Sister-in-law was on good form (well, good for her.....) and the kids were brilliant. Even my brother seemed to be a in a good mood! So the next evening, admittedly after a couple of glasses of wine, I texted her about the fact she still hadn't unblocked me on FB. It had been over six months now, I said, and I was getting more and more embarrassed that I was keeping up with the kids by relying on my parents taking screenshots of the things she was posting and sending them to me. She went on about how she couldn't do it on her phone, she had to be on a desktop. Well, said I, you managed to do it in the first place so please - I'd like to be able to see what you post. Her response was the same, she needed a desktop and it was a banned site at work so she couldn't do it. I snapped, said I'd unfriend her and add her back again and hopefully that would reset it. So I took her off my FB, and there was not the option to add her back. Clearly the fact I'm on her blocked list means I can't even add her as a friend. To be honest it's a bit of a relief. We don't have to pretend anymore and the ball is absolutely in her court.

Christmas for hubby and I on the, erm, 'getting back in the saddle' department was mixed. There were urges and opportunity but what needed to happen for us to get back into said saddle didn't happen. Or did, but then promptly disappeared again. Beyond frustrating, as you can imagine. It was as if now that we are very much back on track someone has said "brilliant, well done for getting everything else sorted and getting it all back together. Oh, but by the way we're now going to take this away from you." Gah! But, as if to prove just how much he's changed, hubby dealt with it brilliantly. Knew immediately that something wasn't right, made an appointment at the docs for blood tests (which have since all come back clear so who knows) and placed an order for some blue tablets. Which work.

* and yes, I am well aware of the inaccuracy of my Matrix quote. I just like the sentiment, it's not my fault the pills I'm talking about are blue not red :D