Barren Betty inspired a picture post. These days I fail to find words to write on this blog. In many ways I’m at the point of resenting that I’m still writing about infertility! But I need to get over it so I’m woman-ing up!
A note before I give a quick update: I’m traveling and writing this on my phone. Formatting will suck. Also, I’ve decided to rename Mr Husband and call him Super Man because he deserves it.
So to start, here’s an update:
1. The NHS saga continued on. They didn’t tell us that one of the funding criteria for assisted conception is BMI. Super Man estimated that my BMI was 18 (I’m flattered?) – the criteria is 19. So they rejected us. We had to run around Oxford Street trying to find a Boots BMI machine one rainy morning before work. I might be slim but I’m not that light! The first one was broken – I wanted to roar and eat the poor Boots consultant when he told me that customers reported that all machines in the area were bust.
I called up Boots on Tottenham Court Road, they reset and tested their machine. Hallelujah it worked! My BMI was a whopping 20.5 (I lose weight too easily).
Long story short – they agreed to fund us.
2. The date with the dildo cam and specialist revealed that I don’t have ‘normal polycystic ovaries’.. In fact she’d question whether I do really have PCO. That left me baffled. Rewind 3 months and I was being told by another consultant that I’m lucky that I’ve maintained my low weight and that if I put on 20% more my cycles would have been affected. It’s REALLY hard for me to put on 20% more so I’m not sure what he was smoking. I’m tiny.
I’m still pushing on with a low sugar, anti acid and processed carbs diet. I don’t deny myself the odd treat – after all I have 20% room for acidy stuff. I tried hemp protein to help me put on good weight but it makes me want to puke.
My blood tests seem ok but I’m still worried about egg quality.
3. The new consultant advised that I just go straight into a long protocol IVF cycle. I was expecting IUIs. I should be happy but I cried because I was positively terrified. Plus at that point the reality of the situation hits you.
4. We went to the clinic’s IVF evening, the night before our hols. When I saw the slides about fertilisation, I cried again because it’s so damn magical and I don’t think fertiles realise the magic that takes place in them. I have a lot of love for Embryologists.
At that point I realised how many hurdles are ahead. It’s not a case of just injecting yourself and automatically being granted golden eggs from your body. If anyone in their infertility ignorance ever dares to say ‘You can always have IVF!’ to me, I’m going to punch them hard and blame it on the hormones.
We also looked like the youngest couple there and when I asked the Dr a question about the process I’m pretty sure he was wondering why a teen was asking him about IVF (I’m 30 but look 14! Yeah, I still get ID’d in Waitrose).
The Dr made a joke about how women always feel they need to hide in a dark room in solitude after transfer when it’s not needed. That made me laugh because my initial reaction to IVF was to be left alone.
6. So now I’m on holiday – eat, love and praying. A whole lot of praying.
My bosses have been amazing and I’m hoping when I go back they continue to be amazing. I’ve decided to take time off for this assisted cycle because my next IVF cycle won’t be for another year.
I won’t be blogging through the process because my mind needs to focus on other things. I’m already obsessively googling and I can only imagine how I’ll be then!
In-between this all I’ve been up to some seriously fun and fabulous stuff too – I’ll post some non-IF related pics after my hols.
Next post is going to contain pics ..