Lockdown ramblings

This is a collection of my musings, vignettes if you will, that I have added to in the past couple of months as there didn't seem to be enough in each one for it to have a post all of its own. I started writing this in March when all this madness kicked off and have added to it since so do bear that in mind as you're reading. The timeline is rather fluid (this runs mostly from March through to May/June) so apologies if some of it doesn't make sense now! Enjoy :)

It's been a while since I've written anything. There isn't much going on, as I'm sure is the case for a lot of you. We're not going out, we have no future plans, nothing is booked, nothing to look forward to.

In case you hadn't guessed, we didn't go to New York at the end of March. We're at home like, I hope, all of you! We took a refund rather than reschedule, for two reasons really. For one I genuinely have no idea if we will be able to reschedule, our jobs are such that it's not always easy for us to take time off at the same time. Secondly, we wanted to be flexible and I have no idea if we'd book through the same provider (we'd definitely try to, for obvious reasons) for the same price or the same hotel etc etc etc etc....... So, for now we'll take the refund and see how the land lies in six months' time.

Working from home isn't actually working out too badly, although hubby has been asked to make sure his kit is ready to go so he can be deployed anywhere across London at a moment's notice. Which will be fun. But until that call comes we're both at home, sharing the dining room table!

I had quite the wobble a couple of weeks ago. My anxiety has gone through the roof, I'm taking a break from Facebook (full of people moaning about the fact they have children) and have taken to walking every day in an attempt to clear my head but nothing's really working. Through everything that's happened over the past couple of years; from all hubby and I have gone through with splitting reconciling and IVF to family issues with my brother, sister-in-law and then my dad's cancer diagnosis on top of his dementia - work has been my anchor. It's been my rock, my security. I always knew where I was with work and then that all got swept away too. The ground beneath my feet just disappeared.

I have had a bit of a breakthrough however, I didn’t get out of bed until 9am despite waking up around 7am and hubby asked me whether it was because I didn’t want to get out of bed or because I didn’t want to face the world. I considered lying, then decided not to and said it was because I didn’t want to face the world. He then said we needed to get me a doctor’s appointment. I said not to, I’m doing things and I’ll be fine.

Then I had a bit more of a think. It’s not that I don’t want to face the world, it’s that I don’t want to go to work as I’m worried that they’ll find me out. That they’ll realise I’m a fraud and I can’t do the job. They’ll realise that I don’t actually know what I’m doing. It’s the exact same feeling I had for the last year or so at my previous job that made me ill – it’s work I don’t want to face, not the world. And despite knowing (really knowing!) that this is different, I can’t shake it. For the past few years work has been my stability – through everything that’s happened I have never not wanted to get up and go to work because I knew I was good at it and because it had rhythm, it was logical, it was routine, I was in control of it. At the moment, I’m not. It’s new. No one knows what’s going on. My security blanket has been taken away and I don’t like it. There no longer anything to anchor me, to keep me steady no matter what else is going on. I can’t cope with that on top of everything else going on out there at the moment.

BUT. I have not been furloughed (other staff have, a letter went out over the weekend), the boss is still coming to me for advice and I’m having regular catch ups with my line manager. So I just need to put in place everything I can and ride it out. I genuinely think that when (if?!) works settles down I’ll feel much much better. I feel better just for having figured that out :)

Plus, of course, there's more tension with my brother and his family. As I'm sure you can imagine! I've sent the kids voice messages and written letters and have I got anything back?! Have I bollocks. Apparently it's because they get so many letters they lose track and can't reply to them all, but I've heard my mum go on and on about the lovely letters she's got and the drawings they've done for her. And I'll put a large amount of money on the fact that my sister-in-law's parents have had responses to whatever they've sent over too.

It's the hypocrisy of it that stinks, either I'm family and I'm important or I'm not. According to him, my reaction to everything my brother says is because I'm being over sensitive, rather than him being an arse. And he's never going to change his perspective. Because, as has been proved countless times in the past, he can't see things from my point of view. Never will. Doesn't even try. And that won't change. 

Fractious Families - A New Chapter?!

So, before the world was completely shot to shit and just a little bit mad - I went to my brother's house to spend time with his kids. He's been really sweet (well, sweet for him..... More on that later) since the failure of our IVF cycle and I've seen the kids twice since we got the news mid-Feb that we had no viable embryos for transfer.

The first time I went was horrendous, it was about a week/ten days after we'd had the call from the embryologist and there were lots and lots of tears but I did get a really big bear hug from him. And he is someone who I think I have had physical contact with twice in the last ten years (once when we got dad's cancer diagnosis, and once the weekend hubby moved out after we split up. He's just not that kind of person). Although he did say stuff like 'it's not all it's cracked up to be', 'maybe you should be grateful you don't have kids' and 'be careful what you wish for' on the numerous occasions when eldest nephew was winding him up, but there you go.

The second time was different though, that was a couple of weeks after the first. I went with all five of them to watch the two nephews play golf, which was lovely, but the golf lesson is with other people the boys go to school with and obviously therefore other parents that my brother and SIL know well. So, my brother and I watched lesson whilst my SIL and niece stayed in the clubhouse with the other parents and their children that weren't in the golf lesson so that when we came back inside there were two distinct groups of 'mums' and 'dads' sat round talking whilst the kids all played together. My brother kindly pulled me up a chair next to him (I knew no one else there I hasten to add, I hadn't met any of them before) but it was also on the side of the 'mums' group and, naturally, as time went on he got more and more involved in the dads group so I was just left there in silence as they talked about all the stuff that generally makes me want to cry and go and bang my head against a wall. As I was getting to the point where I was going to make excuses and just go home (after crying in the car first, obv) it was time to go so off we went.

My brother, my niece and I went out first and he asked why I just sat there in silence as they're all perfectly nice people. I said I'm sure they are but that situation for me is like our Center Parcs was - horrendous (here - if you want all the gory details of that particular hell) and I hate it. He said he knew but I could have made an effort - I told him that it hurt like hell and I just couldn't deal with it. SIL then appeared with the nephews and he turned on both of us: "and you two haven't said one word to each other all day, you're like five year olds, just talk to each other". I was shell shocked, she just continued to ignore me. We went back to theirs and I continued to play with the kids and be ignored by her.

Now, it was SILs birthday the following week so after the boys had had their tea my brother wanted them to go upstairs with him to wrap her presents. This left the two of us downstairs with my niece. As the boys were climbing the stairs my brother let rip again - "this is ridiculous, you don't even acknowledge each other's presence. I know you're different people, I know you're not going to be best of friends, I'm not as close to my sister as I'd like to be as I know we're very different people but this is now *really* upsetting me and it makes me mad. Just talk to each other, learn about each other's lives, get on with each other" and that was that.

Again I was shell shocked and initially I thought he was going for both of us, but when I thought about it later the use of the word 'sister' made me thing he was actually aiming it predominately at her. That idea was reinforced in my head as it was her who responded to his tirade and not me - 'stop trying to force it ok, just stop trying to force it' which she said in quite an agitated tone before he left to go upstairs.

When he was eventually out of the room and upstairs with the boys, silence followed. She clearly wasn't going to do anything..... I asked if they had any plans for the Easter holidays at the moment, "no not really" was the response, and she continued trying to get my niece to finish her dinner. More silence. I gave it a bit more time debating whether I could be the bigger person here or why should I bother with someone that clearly doesn't want anything to do with me. No, I thought, for my brother I will do this. So I asked another question - it must be easier now in your new job that you don't have to worry about taking school holidays off work. No response at all, she just concentrated on my niece. Fine I thought, I'm not doing any more.

I know she doesn't like me, that's fine, I can take that I'm a grown up but fuck me the toxic atmosphere is something else. Why can't SHE act like a grown up?!? I used to say hello to her as I walked in the house, I used to engage her with conversation, ask her how her day had been and how work was going etc. but I was lucky if I got one word answers back so I stopped trying. She's not good for my mental health. Funnily enough it's incredibly draining and I knew I was getting nowhere so why should I bother??!? Which I realise does sound petulant but if this was anyone else, if she wasn't married to my brother, I just would never see her again. Sadly though I don't have that option here, at least whilst the kids are young anyway.

When my brother did finally come back downstairs the three of us were on the sofa (opposite ends, obviously, and she had my niece on her lap) watching a film. The boys and him joined us for a bit. SIL had to leave the room at one point (can't remember why now) and brother seized the opportunity to ask me - "did you talk?". I could hear the pointedness in his voice as his eyes bored into me. "I asked two questions" I said, honestly, and slightly startled. And then he asked if she'd said anything, still staring at me and in the same tone. Now, what the hell do I answer to that?!? How can I slag off your WIFE to you?!? What sort of position is that to put me in?? So, very flustered, I managed to say that yes, she had said a few words. But again, what a position to put me in...... I get it, I do, I know what he's trying to do, and I feel for him. But I'm not the problem and I'm damned if I'M going to be labelled a bitch for slagging her off to him!

Not for the first time, I left their house in tears.

Game Over

So. After further checks it would appear that none of our four frosties are viable for transfer. None. Game over.

I didn't think it would affect me this much. I realise that's an incredibly naive thing to say, really I do, but there you go. It's been over a week now and I'm still crying at the drop of a hat, drinking too much vodka and only really wanting to eat pizza. Which is not a good thing - I put on half a stone in five days on the IVF meds and I struggle to lose weight at the best of times. But hey ho.

"Why don't we just do another round?" I hear you cry. A lot of other people have asked the same question. It's an easy answer to be honest - cost. We borrowed £10,000 from the bank to fund this round, we spent £9,500 of that getting this far. We simply can't afford to do it again. Even though now I know I could go through it, I was worried I wouldn't be able to but it would appear that I can. The irony is not lost on me.

I keep questioning everything. Did they just get a bad batch of eggs out of me that particular month? If we'd done it the month before or the month after would we have got a different outcome? Did I react badly to the drugs and did that affect egg quality? Was it my eggs or his sperm? Or both?! Are we just not compatible? Hubby has a lot of inheritable serious illness in his family, whilst the clinic tested for motility and shape there is no way of knowing if they carry any abnormalities which have made things unviable. I guess the most likely reason though is my age - I am 41 this year. Egg quality goes down with age, all the science says so. So maybe I am taking this so badly because I am blaming myself. Or, more likely, I realise that we have now waved goodbye to any chance of me ever getting pregnant. Adoption is still on the cards so there is still a chance we'll be parents, but there is now a very very real chance I will never be pregnant. We'd even talked about using our frosties with a gestational surrogate if the first couple didn't stick in me. All of this stuff we'd talked about that will never need to be said again. When will the questions end? When will the nightmare end?

Very sweetly, both sets of parents also gave us some money to go towards treatment (this would have paid for the meds and other associated costs of our first transfer, subsequent transfers we were going to fund ourselves) and they do not want that money back - we did offer as we felt bad. So we're using that for five nights in New York next month. We both love the city but haven't been for a few years. I'm not even looking forward to it at the moment, although I'm sure I will. At least I hope I will. Right now I just can't look past this. This failure. This, what seems like at least, finality of our journey.

The Little Egg That Could (and friends!)

So, egg retrieval went well. I didn't respond well to the sedative initially so they had to give me a higher than usual dose, apparently it's because I have a high tolerance to alcohol. Not sure whether to be appalled or proud..... They managed to get 20 (twenty!) eggs out of me so no wonder I was in so much discomfort. We were discharged around midday and when we got home I slept pretty much all afternoon. Woke up about 6pm and we ordered pizza (I was under strict instructions not to cook so what else were we going to do?!) and went back to bed early. I'm was back at work the day (a Wednesday) after but still in a fair amount of pain, it didn't go away for a while (early the following week).

The clinic then phoned me the following morning with an update - of the 20 (I still can't quite believe that number....) eggs that they collected 16 of them were mature enough to be fertilised (they would expect 80% so that fits), then 9 actually fertilised (an additional two were 'over fertilised' so can't be used). They said they'd keep me posted with their progress daily but that they only expected 90% (i.e. 8) of them to continue to develop, whichever ones do continue to grow would be checked before freezing. There was of course still no guarantee how many would make it to freezing, nor how many will pass all the relevant checks. There's also, of course, no guarantee any of them will 'stick' once transferred but holy hell these were good numbers to be starting with!

This following morning's update was not so good - only seven continued to develop, two didn't produce any cells. Of those seven, four weren't doing very well and so the clinic weren't sure if they'd make it to freezing. They were hopeful that the other three would, and some of those four might still it's just that the chances are lower that they will. We'd get a better prediction in the following day's update call of how many would make it to freezing.

And the next day's update was a blow, it took the wind right out of both of us. Only one was doing what it should be doing but they didn't know if it would continue to do so. Three more made it to eight cells, but the cells were misshapen and fragmented so were unlikely to develop further. The others were still developing but doing it so slowly that they were also unlikely to make it. The next update was two days away and there was now a very real chance we'd end up with nothing

The wait was excruciating. But when the phone call finally came they said that our little fighter had made it!!! One was being checked that day and three of the others had also caught up and might be ok for checking the next day. There was still 24hrs to go on those three so of course things might change but at that moment it did look like they should make it! There were still many more hurdles to jump - they need to pass the checks and be ok for freezing for a start. And there is of course still no guarantee any will implant successfully after transfer but after the earlier phone call we got we were fully prepared for different news so, for at that moment at least, we were very happy bunnies.

The final clinic update came through and we ended up with four that had been frozen and checked, the results of the checks won't come through for a few weeks so nothing else to do in the meantime. The only thing of slight concern was that the embryologist wasn't convinced of their quality, but (as far as I'm aware....) if a fertilised egg makes it as far as being a blastocyst it's just different levels of 'good'. If it's not a viable embryo it wouldn't have made it to be a blastocyst. So, as always, there are still no guarantees but it was another hurdle cleared!

And so the wait begins.

Christmas and the Good Follicles

Christmas, as we knew it would be, was horrendous. Christmas Eve we had lunch with my parents, dad gearing up for a stem cell transplant in the New Year (more about that another time, I don't have the energy to write about that too at the moment), and Christmas Day we spent volunteering. Which actually went really well and we both very much enjoyed it, but then we had to leave before the end so I could drop hubby home and drive down to my brothers by late afternoon. Yes that's right, I had to leave hubby home alone on the afternoon and evening of Christmas Day as he is still not allowed anywhere near my brother's children. We then spent Boxing Day with hubby's family which was lovely - and we were done. That was it.

The weekend between Christmas and New Year I came down with a horrible cold so spent the weekend with the duvet on the sofa. Which, to be honest, had pretty much been the plan for the weekend anyway!! But then AF turned up four days early and put our New Year plans in jeopardy, turning everything on its head. I now needed to be scanned before we went away rather than when we got back. After the initial anger had subsided, we managed to rebook the scans for the morning before we went away as opposed to the afternoon we got back. And actually, in hindsight, that was a really good thing. I'd reacted so badly to the HSG I'd had on the NHS (read about that fun here) that I was unbelievably nervous and shaky about this scan, the anticipation beforehand was horrendous. How would I have felt about having it hanging over me throughout our entire New Year trip?! So, actually, getting it out of the way before we went away ended up being a good thing. So I guess AF does know what she's doing sometimes after all.

And our New Year trip was just AMAZING! We were in this wonderful old hotel, a building that used to be owned by Jane Austin, in the west country and had a brilliant time. Got all dressed up for NYE itself, had wonderful food and drink, ended the night in style, went for a really long walk the next day interspersed with tea and cake and the views were just stunning. For the first time in a long time I actually felt as if I'd had a break over Christmas. It was straight back into things when we got back though, we headed to the bank to discuss a loan. It was all sorted very quickly and easily. Part of me was actually worried how easy it was to borrow the money! We got incredibly good terms though and were pleased with the deal we had. So, onwards.

Because AF had been early, it meant we could have a good go of things whilst we were away. But still to no avail, AF turned up in January a day late - just enough to get my hopes up. So we went to our nurses appointment anyway. Because AF in December had been early, our nurses appointment should technically have also been moved a week earlier before January's AF had made her appearance but that hadn't possible with my work so we ended up keeping the appointment the same. This meant we were at the clinic on day 3 of my cycle and given the option to start an IVF cycle there and then. A bit of a shock, but we decided to go for it. Again, just showing things do happen for a reason. If AF had turned up on time we would have been too late and had to wait another month before we could start, but we started treatment Thursday last week (23rd Jan). As I know most of you are all aware (with apologies, I know there are people who read my blog who know nothing about the process. I also find it's good for me to have a record of what on earth has gone on!), it started with just one injection every morning for the first four days (to stimulate the ovaries, in a device similar to an epipen) and then an additional morning injection daily from last Monday (to stop ovaries releasing eggs early, in the form of a more 'normal' syringe). I then had two scans last week to make sure the injections were working. That very first injection was horrendous, I couldn't do it in end. Got myself into a right state and hubby had to do it for me, but I got used to it eventually. I did end up in A&E that weekend though as it took a while for my body to get used to it and I was in an unbearable amount of pain. But it passed and things have been at least bearable since. I will not miss the side effects from the injections though! And my appetite over the past few days, wow. I. WANT. ALL. THE. FOOD. I dread to think how much weight I've put on but we'll worry about that another time.

Eventually I moved to permanent discomfort, massive bloating and only occasional pain. As I said, bearable. I then had my final scan yesterday morning and my consultant said they could see lots of good follicles so I've responded really well to the treatment and they think they'll get TWELVE eggs out of me which is just bonkers. There's obviously no guarantee any of them are any good but having as many as twelve certainly increases our odds of having at least one decent embryo to implant. And again, with apologies to those that know all this already, but not all eggs will be able to be fertilised and not all fertilised eggs will make it to be a viable embryo - but these numbers are at least looking decent enough to give us some hope. Egg collection will be tomorrow morning, trigger injection was last night and freaked the crap out of me - it needed to be done at a very specific time or egg collection would be jeopardised and I had two injections as the clinic didn't have enough in stock got just give me one. First one was a 'pen' like the initial injections had been and that one went in fine, the second one was a syringe as the second injections had been. For the first time I managed to get a blood vessel or similar and there was blood everywhere, including in the syringe itself. Bearing in mind the timing issues I just stuck the needle in again and pushed the plunger, paranoid that after everything I'd ruined our chances of egg collection this cycle. But the clinic have confirmed that we're all good, so first thing tomorrow I'll be sedated whilst they remove the contents of my ovaries with a very large needle. Yay. I've never had any sort of operation or any type of anaesthesia so I am absolutely bricking it.

After tomorrow it's all a numbers game - however many eggs manage to be fertilised (it's unlikely all of them will fertilise) are then grown in a lab for five days and only the ones that develop properly are deemed viable to be implanted and those ones are then frozen. There's no guarantee whatsoever that once implanted an embryo will stick, no matter how 'good' it was deemed in the lab. But the clinic were very impressed with me, these are really good numbers bearing in mind my age. Well, assuming the scan yesterday was correct anyway! We'll obviously have a better idea when they've actually taken the eggs.

It's been a very hard few weeks. Massive kudos to all of you that have done this more than once. I can't imagine having to go through this again. But there you go. Hopefully (!) I won't leave it as long next time to update you all, I hope you can appreciate it's been quite the few weeks and the blog took a bit of back seat. If you are able, I'd be very grateful if you could keep all your fingers and toes crossed for tomorrow and I'll keep you posted as best I can. Thank you 💗

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.