The donor egg dilemma

Many people have asked me how I really feel about using donor eggs and donor sperm together and how I think any child I create this way will feel when they find out.  The truth is you cannot know, but I think that is true of any child created in any way.  Children may have many reasons to resent you and many reasons to thank you for creating their life, probably both. There are no guarantees. 

I do know a little bit about this.  I was adopted at 3 weeks old in 1967, a time when adoption came about largely because of the shame of being pregnant out of wedlock.  It's different from today's adoptions, where children are mostly taken into care because of a variety of problems in the birth family and the children have already suffered a geat deal.  I found out I was adopted when I was around 14 years old.  Possibly a little late, but I can understand why my Mother was scared and anxious about telling me and didn't know when it was best.  In those days there was little or no advice on such things and post adoption support for the adopter was poor.  So, my take on it is this; I was so tiny that I remember only my Mother and my Father and the life I had with them.  Although curious about my birth parents later, I never felt an urge to track them down.  I suppose I wanted some details and I know my birth Mother's name, where she lived at the time, her job and my birth name.  I feel no blame or angst for this poor woman who gave me up, none at all.  What is different in using donor eggs and donor sperm is that you give the embryo life and you have the baby from birth, the bond is there straight away. I know how much my parents wanted me and it is a wonderful feeling knowing what lengths they went to to adopt me.  I suppose I feel that, given the right way of explaining it when the time comes, a child created by donor sperm and donor egg may feel the same way. Children just want to be loved, to be cared for and to be secure and safe.  That's what counts. 

I know that I thought long and hard about how I'd feel about a baby that shared none of my genes.  I wanted my own biological child precisely because I was adopted and I wanted to see what it would look like, be like and if it's mannerisms and behaviour reflected mine.  This became particularly poignant when I lost my baby, created with my then boyfriend, late in the second trimester in November 2009. However, I have come full circle.  I reflect back on how people say my sister, Mother and I are so alike and yet, I do not share their genes.  It's the old nature/nurture argument and I'm living proof that nurture is key.

I will try once more to create a baby with my own eggs, but the idea of a donor embryo is no longer something that I worry about.  I think of children I know, my little niece, my God daughter, my friend's children and if anything happened to any of the parents I would give that child a home and love it unquestionably.  I cannot imagine that a tiny little person would inspire anything other than absolute love in me, regardless of its origins. 

I know that in my forties, I may also face the prospect of twins if I'm lucky enough to be successful with donor embryos. This used to worry me, but now I would say it doesn't.  Financially it will be a nightmare and physcially you're going to need help, but think of the advantages after the baby stage.  Two children right away, a playmate and sibling for each other and a bond that will last well after you're gone.

I do know some people who think it a disgusting, selfish thing to do.  And you will face that.  However,  you have to square this with yourself.  To those 'haters' I say, does anyone ask you if your wish to have a child is disgusting or selfish, even though your relationship may be poor or your circumstances less than perfect? Does anyone question your motives for your desire to have a child?  I doubt it.  The same type of scrutiny just does not apply when a partnered man and a woman have a baby in the so called 'natural way'.  But I work in a job where I see what goes wrong in parenting and families and, so far, it has never been because a single woman created a baby with a donor egg and donor sperm.

I hope you forgive this tangent, but I know I'm not alone in wondering if donor embryos are a bridge too far.  I now know what I feel about it, but it took a while to let go of the dream of a biological child and not everyone can.

Negative

I'm sure you will realise that, had I hit the jackpot, I would have posted straight away.  Unfortunately, it took me a few days to pick myself up off the floor so I could post. I waited, like a real patient person, until Day 14 and tested.  A BFN, that's what.  I cried, of course, and then I got myself dressed and out.  In anticipation I packed Friday to Monday full of activities and friends, as well as taking the day off on test day.  Thank God.  I was partly tricked by the progesterone again, but more cautious this time so I'd say less shocked at the result.  The temperature rise got to me in this round.  It was quite distinct and I began to be so convinced. Feel a bit of a fool, to be honest.

I did email the clinic straight away on Friday to ask if there was really any point trying one last time.  The doctors think that I can get pregnant, but it will take time because of my age and once every 2 months is probably not cutting it.  They're hopeful due to how regularly and well I ovulate and also how I respond to the Clomid.  I'm sure they're right, but the question is can I put my life on hold any further, living on sod all?  If I'm going to do that surely I'd be better throwing my money at donor eggs. Everyone around me seems to think so. I feel really old.  I may not be old in actual years, but I'm clearly Medusa in the fertility stakes.

I've already decided, I think,  that I will try to scrape enough together to do a final round in Copenhagen, as I said I would, and then it's saving for the donor package in Cyprus at Dogus Clinic.  It will take me four months to save half the money and, weirdly, I am going to ask my father to lend me the rest so I don't have to wait 8 months.  I can pay him back from the month I go.   Dogus Clinic guarantee you ten fresh eggs and transfer 3 embryos rather than two, freezing the rest.  So if it doesn't work the first time, you can try the rest of your frozen eggs twice more for very little financial outlay.  It's got to be better than one pop only.

So, it looks like I may devote almost another whole year to getting pregnant as my career slides into the mire.  Then there will be an end to it, one way or another.  There has to be a cut off point, as I keep saying.  And I am beginning to dream, nay hallucinate, of what it would be like to afford new clothes, a meal out or a trip away that isn't to Copenhagen. Or what it would be like to think about something else.  My choice though and at least no one, least of all me, can say I didn't do my best to achieve it.  If it doesn't work at all, I can slug champagne on a Mediterranean beach terrace and know I tried. Now I'm off to have a bloody glass of wine.

Two week wait once more

It's purgatory this, seriously.  No symptoms at 9 dpo, which I suppose is also 9 dpiui, except headaches and queasiness from the progesterone supplements. Damn. Then shivers on and off and a few other things I've experienced (you don't want to know) around the same time when it's failed before.  Damn again.  Then today, double queasiness and some pokey and stretching feelings in my lower abdomen.  Maybe...

This truly is rubbish and I have to say I don't hold out much hope this time - I don't feel pregnant.  I feel pissed off is what I feel.  3 big, happy follicles and perfectly timed insemination and still no joy.  How can this be when I got pregnant on one follicle and not so great timing a few months ago?  Well, every month counts at my age, so I guess there may have been 3 big follicles, but there were also 3 dud eggs. Or maybe I'm fertilising and there's just too much scarring and irregularity in my endometrium so there's no implanting going on.

Grim, grim, grim.  One basket case signing off till Friday.

Round 6 - Here we go

I had a lovely time in Copenhagen,  if you eliminate all the stress of waiting for ovulation and trying to get there, of course.  I was beginning to wonder if ovulation was ever going to occur.  Finally, on the evening of Day 11 it happened -  I suppose this is when women on a 28 day cycle normally get ovulation so this time Clomid balanced me rather than making me ovulate extra early.  Cue crazy booking of flights and the Wakeup Hotel. 

I arrived around 12pm and Dr Svend ushered me in for an ultrasound.  I was lucky enough to see 3 nicely maturing follicles, two on the right and one on the left.  My left ovary usually hides from the scanner, so I was pleased to see it in action.  Each one was around 18mm, so Dr Svend booked me in for an insemination the next day at 10.15.  This was also strange for me, as I always have it done the day I arrive and certainly before, what would by then be, Day 13.  To be honest, I was glad as I was exhausted from getting up at 4am.  I went back to the hotel and crashed out for a few hours.

As luck would have it a friend of mine was in Copenhagen on business so we had a lovely, 3 course, evening meal on Nyhaven Harbour.  It was so nice to be with someone you know well and it occurred to me how lonely a trip this can often be. You don't really feel like a tourist because, after all, you're not. I  laugh inwardly when a Danish person asks me if I'm on holiday and what I'm doing in Copenhagen.  I always say 'I'm visiting', but what I'm thinking is 'I'm here for a shot of your country's finest sperm.'  Actually, what I am is a fertility tourist.

The insemination was over in a less than a minute and then I enjoyed a 45 minute acupuncture session with the clinic's resident acupuncturist.  It was my treat to myself because it's nearly all over and I wanted to give myself as much chance as possible.  It proved to be a brilliant idea.  I can honestly say that I went into a lovely state of mind and when it was over, I had the most amazing feeling of wellbeing for hours afterwards.  I've had acupuncture before, but it had never had that effect.  If you go to Copenhagen Fertilty Centre, book the acupuncture!

I've been back a few days and I'm on 6dpo.  Nothing to report really.  A few twinges and pokes, but, of course that's the progesterone suppositories.  I've chosen to take only 400mg a day because last time it drove me a bit nuts.  This seems more manageable.  I'm not feeling hot, I don't have any sore boobs and I feel OK generally.  Who can tell?  I am seasoned enough at this to know that now is around the time implantation takes place and seasoned enough not to obsess about every perceived sign.  I haven't gone near any two week wait forums and have booked up next week to the max so I don't think about it.  I will test on 9 December, which will be 14 days after the insemination and we will see.  I've taken the day off, prepared for the fall out and distress if it's a negative.

In preparation for the penultimate round

So, I've been a bit absent in the month off between the last round and the one coming.  (It takes two pay checks to do one insemination, so there's always a month off.)  I say a month 'off', but it hasn't been a party, that's for sure.  A sick and elderly father in hospital and a Hobson's choice to either wait for the chop or take voluntary redundancy now.  Hmm.  Never a dull moment.  Still, mustn't lose focus.  In the lead up to the penultimate round of my year long devotion to trying to get pregnant alone, I have finally given some thought to donor eggs.  Thought is as far as it will probably ever get.  For the sum of £5000, plus some extra cost for drugs, I can have a donor embryo package in Cyprus that includes donor eggs, IVF, accommodation while you're there, donor semen and drugs for the donor female.  I had a very informative email response to my enquiries from Dogus IVF Centre, Northern Cyprus (www.dogusivfcentre.com)  They match a female donor to your look and use the Danish sperm banks.  I have never really been sure how I feel about this, but with a success rate of  77% it is not to be dismissed.  Compare that with my current odds of 1-12% with donor insemination and my own eggs and it appears to be a no brainer.  There is just one problem...where to lay my hands on £5000 + quickly.  Not going to happen!

Therein lies the dilemma.  If I take voluntary redundancy I may get that sum, but, of course, I wouldn't have a job.  A job that's very flexible and a 15 minute commute with good maternity pay.  On the other hand I may be out of that job in a few months anyhow.  What, I ask, would you do, given the circumstances.  Answers on a postcard please...

Putting all this to one side in preparation for this round, I am getting aggressive and taking 100mg of Clomid per day instead of 50mg.  Dr Svend agrees.  God knows what this will achieve, but hopefully more than two big follicles, or just two extremely mature follicles.  I am a bit short financially this month, due to visiting said sick father (he lives far away), so I'm not having a follicular scan in the UK first this time.  Going to rely on the old pee sticks alone, testing from Day 7, just in case. Trying not to get my hopes up, but inevitably there is always hope before the insemination.  So, all being well, in about 7 days time I'll fly out for the last but one shot of Denmark's finest.

Finally, I received a questionnaire from Storkklinik asking me to complete it for their statistics and records when my baby is born in December.  Of course, I would have been 8 months pregnant now had my successful IUI in March continued past 6 weeks.  It was a little upsetting, but I suppose it just reminded me that I got pregnant on the third attempt so it's still possible now, isn't it?

A victim of progesterone

I consider myself someone who is not easily fooled.  I put this down to hard nosed realism - some would say negativity - and a feeling, lately, that this just can't go my way.  So, it came as some suprise that after my early and ridiculously faint positive hpt,  I found myself fully convinced that I was pregnant.  I had every symptom going and all of them matched my last two pregnancies.  I just felt pregnant, I really did, just as I had the two times I actually was pregnant. I was so convinced that I worked out a due date, revised my company's maternity policy and checked out what happens if you are made redundant during maternity leave (we're about to be made redundant in the next year).  In fact, so convinced was I, that I tested on Saturday, CD25, 15dpiui and a day earlier than I wanted to.  You can imagine my utter devastation when it was a very clear negative.  I don't know why, but it completely crushed me this time.  I was inconsolable and could barely make it out of the flat to go to the supermarket.  Every pregnant woman, every tiny child and baby with doting parents just seemed to be on the street or in the supermarket yesterday.  I was devastated.  I've been through this five times now, so you'd think I would find it easier. I suppose as D Day nears and my time has officially run out I am becoming more upset and distressed by the failures.

I wasted £10.99 on two early response tests, just so I could be sure before I stopped the progesterone and let the inevitable happen.  Of course, the test was negative.  If such an early response test is negative when it can pick up hcg as early as 6 days prior to your period, there was no denying it, I was most definitely not pregnant.  It made me realise that 3-4dpiui when I experienced those tell-tale symptoms of failure - that shivery feeling, a period kind of nausea and a period type of cramp - I was absolutely right to think it had failed.  How could I have been so fooled?  Well, it seems that even hard nosed realists can be swayed by progesterone.  Now I think back, as soon as it had been in my system for a few days, I started getting pregnancy symptoms and away went the 'failure' symptoms.  Of course they did, the progesterone had kicked in.  At 2 x 400mg per day was it any wonder?

I suppose given the positive double follicle scenario, the two very positive ultrasounds and the perfectly timed insemination, I just couldn't believe it hadn't worked on this first round with Clomid.  Well, it didn't.  And there we have it.  Good FSH, I ovulate on my own and produce mature follicles, but I guess it's time to face the fact that my eggs are just too past it now.  I may have been pregnant at 41 and 43 (four months ago), but now it seems it's just a bridge too far.

I'm still upset today and although I will complete two more cycles, making a total of seven in one year, I don't know how I'm going to drag myself through them.  This is when being single really sucks.  I won't even go in to the debilitating thoughts I had about my ex-partner and the very fertile, 20 something girlfriend he found after me, the horror of facing childlessness and my feelings of abject failure.  The truth is today and yesterday have not been good days.  I only wish I was the only one going through this because I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but I know that across the globe there will be women who know exactly what I'm talking about and exactly how I feel.  So my thoughts are with you.

The two week wait

I thought I'd get a bit scientific this time and sort of 'chart my symptoms' a bit more.  That will help my mental state, right enough.  I started off feeling the progesterone plummet only 3 days after insemination (3dpiui as those in the know call it). I got mightily pissed off.  I couldn't believe my body was doing this already, and when I was taking progesterone. About 5dpiui, however, that subsided to be replaced by nausea, a poking cramp in my abdomen and headaches that were verging on migraine.  They were terrible and lasted until 10dpiui.  I felt knackered too.  I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, things had turned around.  I recognised all of these symptoms from the last 2 pregnancies.  And then I dashed my own hopes because I also recognised these symptoms from the hundreds of forums I'd read about progesterone mimicking pregnancy symptoms.

I will confess that on CD21, or 11dpiui, I got so annoyed at these swinging symptoms that I just wanted it over and my period to hurry up.  So I took an htp/POAS/pregnancy test.  Of course it was negative so early, until I looked a bit closer and an extremely faint pinkish line could be seen.  I mean, if you held it up to the light it could be seen.  Not that I'm obsessing or anything. So that got my hopes up, although my negative voice was screaming 'its an evaporation line, you muppet.'   However, it didn't leave me any better off really.  I had one day of thinking I might be pregnant, I really might, and then I came home from work yesterday to feel the onset of cramps akin to period pains and horrid dull aches in my left ovary.  Back to square one.  Sore boobs getting more painful by the day, with veins like a road map?  Yes.  Lower back pain?  Yes.  Cramps? Yes.  Peeing frequently?  And so it goes.  I am driving myself absolutely mental, as no doubt you are too if you're up to the same thing.  Of course, all of the above are also signs of an impending red guest, as we know.  I find myself feeling that inner excitement one minute, but after every cramp I feel devastated because I know it's pms.

This is rubbish.  But...I am not going to test again until Sunday, which will be exactly 16 days after my IUI.  My period is actually due on Monday 17th, but no doubt because of the progesterone it won't come until I test negative and stop taking the drug. Oh the joy.  Every one around me is having a normal life (well it appears that way) while I'm waging a schizophrenic vocal battle in my head.  I need to keep remembering that there are no conclusions about symptoms, you just have to wait.  I should write this out, like lines.  You just have to wait...

Round 5 (or round 2 post miscarriage) and 28 degrees

So, arriving in Copenhagen without a sense of humour because I had to deal with Stansted at 5am, I find myself dive bombing into serious bad temper.  It's 28 degrees and I'm wearing a jumper.  To make matters worse that's all I have to wear so that I don't have to pay for luggage on the budget airline.  Not happy.  I make my way on the 5A to Lytgen and make it 30 minutes earlier than my appointment. I calm down once in the cool of the clinic and its clean design.

Dr. Svend appears to give me an ultrasound and confirms that one of my follicles has popped and the other is about to go.  Based on this, he says, I should be inseminated in 30 minutes after a shot of Ovitrelle (an extra 350 DKK or £38) to ensure the second one pops too.  I'm relieved.  As I'm whipping my trousers back on to wait while they do whatever it is they do to the sperm, Dr S says he's very impressed with the quality of my ultrasound report from the London Ultrasound Centre.  'I should think so', I replied, 'it cost £120 - practically half the cost of an insemination'  'You didn't get it on the NHS?', he queries.  'Er...no.'  Where to start?  If I explain why that wouldn't be possible, I might start ranting about being over 40, female, single and British.  And I'm wearing a jumper in 28 degrees.  So I don't.

After a 30 minute wait Dr Jan ushers me into a suite.  He's my favourite.  He's a very friendly, avuncular sort who doesn't make me feel like a muppet asking all the questions I usually bombard him with.  He greets me and then asks me if I'm happy with blond and blue as requested.  182cm this time.  I say yes and sign on the dotted line and up on the couch I go.  Not for the first time I consider just how truly bizarre this is.  A couple of minutes later it's done and off I go to enjoy the sweltering heat of Copenhagen, with a 'good luck' and 'take two progesterone suppositories per day from now on' ringing in my ears.

I got so bad tempered in the heat that I caved and bought some cheap clothes from H&M so that I could actually enjoy a bit of sightseeing.  After a spin around Nyhaven harbour, the shops and the castle grounds I made for my hotel in Orestad.  This time I chose Cabinn Metro and I wish I hadn't.  It really wasn't up to the standards of Wakeup and it was  located a metro ride away, by a huge shopping centre and nothing much else.  It was, however, only 485 DKK or £58.

The next day I sat by the river for ages in the heat and pondered my lot, whilst feeling yucky about the ooze that comes from using suppositories. I considered the fact that, if this round doesn't work, I have just two more shots (self imposed end - emotionally need to draw a line and well in to my 44th year).  As if to cheer me up a crazy man on an adapted cycle, complete with sound deck and sound system, cycled past pumping sounds and whooping. Everyone sitting on the wall and by the river whooped and joined in, including me.  I hope it was a good omen.

Crazy Clomid

Well, I just don't know about this drug.  I took it days 3-7 as suggested and the side effects were, thankfully, not too awful.  Hot flashes definitely and a good bit of bloating and moodiness, but no nausea, sore breasts or other horrors.  The thing of it is that I'm not sure how well it worked because, not having had an ultrasound pre ovulation before, I had nothing to compare it to.  On CD6-8 I got ultra hot and had a lot of other tell-tale ovulation signs, but I assumed that it was just the drug because it was far too early.  After all Clomid was supposed to delay my ovulation not make it happen earlier.  So I didn't test on CD8.  I usually test from CD8 onwards.  I wrestled with myself on CD9, the morning I booked my follicular scan at the London Ultrasound Centre. Should I test this morning or not? I decided not. I arrived at the clinic and saw the size of my follicles on a super sonic screen.  One at 21.5mm and one at 14.5 mm with an endometrium of 8.5 mm.  The left ovary couldn't be seen, the little devil. The sonographer estimated ovulation within 24 hours.  Damn it I thought - so my body wasn't lying and I was going to ovulate on CD10 -  which meant that I would have had an LH surge on CD8 or CD9 in the morning.  I had never had one as early as CD8 or before CD9 in the late evening.  Can only have been the Clomid.

Cue mental booking of flights, taking a flexi day off and swapping my planned leave on Monday for leave on Friday.  Plus much testing using an OPK. Of course, there was no smiley face because I'd missed the surge!  However, Copenhagen Fertility Centre were great.  They booked me in the next day and said they'd do a further ultrasound first and we'd decide what to do next.  The London Ultrasound Centre had emailed over my results and the doctor was very happy with them.  The follicles can get quite big on Clomid so it was no guarantee that I would ovulate the next day, though certainly within 24-36 hours.  They reassured me that we had a good window and plenty of options!  So I geared myself up for a hideous 7 am flight, which meant a 3am rise.  Grim.

Positivity required..apply within

I went up north for a few days walking in the Lake District for my birthday - I'm now 44 years old - and had a wonderful time.  I didn't even worry about tracking ovulation whilst away because I'm not able to go to Denmark until my next cycle.  This was a worry I was pleased to do without.  So I am looking forward to my next trip to Copenhagen.  I bought a moonstone from a hippy crystal shop in the Lakes because it's good for fertility, apparently.  Have to carry it around with me everywhere I go. I'm not really into all that stuff, but I take the view that it can't hurt to try anything and everything.  There will be no wearing of the Jesus sandals though.

So, as I launch myself for IUI rounds 5-8, I'm looking for positive stories of women my age who get pregnant through IUI.  I need a boost to my flagging optimism, which was knee high to start with.  If you have ever read any British journals, medical information or forums on this subject they are not so much cautiously realistic as misery incarnate. Is it possible I ask myself?  Yes, I feel it is, but I wish I had the American gene for positive thinking to go with this feeling.  We Brits are notoriously cynical -some would say defeatist and some would say realistic - but either way it's not helpful having this as your starting point, now is it?

A woman at work who knows what I'm up to and has supported me mentally throughout has just given me a quick lecture on how I might feel when I'm 50 if I don't do this.  She's absolutely right, of course.  If there's anyone out there who can bolster my journey with a tale of encouragement, personal or otherwise, do it please!

Next round in the last week in September...

Riots, looting and ovulation

It's been a difficult week for us Londoners, thanks to the rioters and looters that rampaged the city.  I live slap, bang in between two of the worst affected areas in a zone untouched. My thoughts on it all probably have no place here...best kept for another medium.  All I will say is that, as an ex inner city teacher and Assistant Principal who worked in gang ridden areas, I am not surprised, but shocked.  Do I really want to have a child in London?  It could be like living in a war zone.  Mad Max (crazy movie starring Mel Gibson and some truly terrible clothes) is not so far off, by all accounts.

Anyhow, against the back drop of a world gone completely mad I was beginning to give up hope of ovulating this month.  In any other context that comment would seem completely off the wall.  However, I'm sure any of you charting whilst trying to conceive will know what I'm talking about.  Having returned quite unexpectedly to a 24 day cycle last time, I began testing on Day 6, expecting a surge on Day 9-10.  As each day passed I started to think that I'd hit the 'do not pass go' barrier and I'd stopped ovulating.  On Day 12 though I finally I got my LH surge.  I'm thinking, what the hell is going on here?  How can I have a surge on Day 12 if I only have a 24 day cycle?  Perhaps my body is just taking its time to return to some sort of normality after my second miscarriage in May this year. (I keep wondering if the stress of waiting for breast cancer results in March and the double biopsy in April was partly responsible.)  God knows, but now I feel like I'm playing Russian Roulette every time I do a test for ovulation. It remains to be seen whether or not everything is stabilised by the Clomid. One would hope. So, one more cycle before I try it.

One piece of interesting news I did have was from the clinic in Southampton, Complete Fertility Centre.  The women I spoke to took my case and fertility stats to a daily discussion with the gynaecologists and the view of the doctors was that they would treat me even though I am about to be over 43.  All I had to do was ask my GP to refer me as a private patient and we could get cracking straight away.  I was really encouraged by that, to be honest.  The clinic does sound good and it would be less stressful. However, I feel happy enough getting a follicular scan at a clinic here when I start the medicated cycle and then flying out to Copenhagen, so I'm not going to take it up.  I have researched the success rates and Copenhagen Fertility Centre still wins.  It's not so much gloom and doom over there for women over 40 either.  However, I have been really impressed with Complete Fertility Centre and it is affordable at £900 a pop after the initial tests.  For someone on an average wage it's possible to do this once very 2 months.  As I said last time, I would definitely consider it if I was under 43. It's the cheapest I've found in the whole of the UK.  If anyone can better it, let me know...

Finally some answers

My GP referred me to another GP within the practice.  No further forward as she's away for another two weeks.  However, I rang the clinic in Denmark and they arranged for me to talk to Dr. Jan again. Relief. He discussed the Clomid according to my personal requirements, confirming 1 x 50mg a day from day 3-7.  He then advised progesterone after IUI because my cycle is short, and if Clomid delays my ovulation, the luteal phase won't be long enough.  2 x 400mg pessaries for 15 days to start with.  Again relief.  This what I want.  Facts and figures - how much, when and for how long.  I explained I'd been spotting a lot the last few months up to 5 days before my period and he agreed it's not quite right. Probably a corpus luteal defect (sounds like something legal) and even though it's only recently been a problem it's not a great sign. I think, being honest, I'm just heading into menopause quicker than I thought.  I think back and I realise that as soon as my cycles dropped to 24 days, as opposed to the 26-28 days I've had all my life, I started getting that weird low blood sugar feeling, nausea and shivers before my period.  It all makes sense now.

Dr. Jan suggested that I get a follicular scan on Day 8-9 in London to check the follicle size and potential ovulation, which will then help me figure out when to fly over to Copenhagen.  All I have to do is then call CFC (Copenhagen Fertility Centre) with the results and they will advise me when to go.   This cuts down the stress of worrying about exactly when my follciles are big enough before, during or after I get a positive ovulation test and how many days I will have to go to Denmark for -1 or 2. CFC will rescan me when I get there, before we go any further, and determine if I need Ovitrelle or not to 'pop' them or if I should do the IUI a day later. I've got the The London Ultrasound Centre and The Birth Company on speed dial. Here are the links. For £120, they scan, provide a report immediately, send any info you want to the clinic of your choice and require no referral.

http://www.thelondonultrasoundcentre.co.uk/follicle-tracking-scan/

http://www.thebirthcompany.co.uk/

It may be £120 per scan, but even if I add that to the IUI price at Copenhagen Fertility Centre it's still only a total of £400 per cycle, including the donor sperm.  No clinic in the UK can match that for the procedure and the sperm.  Even when I add on flights. Although, I've just found out about a great new clinic in Southampton called Complete Fertility Centre which is linked to the NHS. It's only been on the go since January 2010, but...it's only £900 per cycle including sperm!  Compare that to the whopping £1800-2000 per cycle in London clinics.  Unfortunately for me,  they won't treat women over 43.  What a shame!  Here's the link though, because if I was of a treatable age, I would definitely do it, just for the ease of staying in the UK and having start to finish fertility care.  I only wish I'd found out about it sooner.

http://www.completefertility.co.uk/index.php

I realise, sadly, that I really, really am nearing the end of my time, but at least I feel less stressed now with my last 2-3 goes.  I know what to do and that's half the battle. In mental preparation for a potentially childless future I've bought a book called 'Beyond Childlessness'.  It's really helpful actually. I need to prepare.  I  don't want to crumble into a heap and end up with 40 house cats and a slum for a house.  Let that not happen to me.  Repeat, let that not happen to me.

Roller coaster

It seems my will to live has decided to take off to Australia.  Not sure it's coming back, maybe just bought a one way ticket.  Hence the lack of blogging. You see, I thought it was game over before I started, as per my last post.  But then... Symptoms started to appear, exactly like those I had when I fell pregnant in March.  Weird indigestion, cramps that were poking rather than dragging in sensation.  And so I began to hope. It seemed that, in spite of the odds of having an IUI on the day of an LH surge as opposed to the recommended day after, I might have been lucky after all.  Around day 8-9 post IUI I was convinced I was pregnant.  So much so that I calculated a due date and trawled the 'trying to conceive' forums.  Well, it's usually me that warns you about those, so I only have myself to blame. 

I had all the symptoms. Fatigue, check.  Constipation, check.  Bloating, check.  Weird poking pains, check.  Just feeling pregnant, check. Veins like a road map on breasts, check. Overheating, check. So persuaded was I that I ignored the tell tale shivers on Day 11 and the odd, low blood sugar, shaky feeling that appeared momentarily.  I now recognise this as progesterone plummet and it's a sure sign that I am about to see the red devil.  I began to spot on Day 11 post IUI, but brown spotting, very light.  I was actually pleased, believing that this was implantation bleeding because my new cycle length, post miscarriage, was 32 days so it couldn't possibly be my period.  Perhaps the early ovulation on Day 9 of my cycle should have clued me into the fact that my body had reverted back to it's 24 day cycle. So, on Saturday 30th, on my 25th day, my period began.  I was absolutely floored.  Disappointment didn't cover it.  I actually felt grief.  Again.  This roller coaster of up and down - am I pregnant, am I not pregnant - it is utterly stressful.

And so here I am.  Exhausted, weary and skint.  Nothing new there then.  I can't do this again in August because the flights are too, too expensive last minute.  Next time I will take the Clomid and I will do it in late September.  As I am 44 in exactly one month's time,  time is slipping away faster than a speeding bullet and I am feeling very panicked.

I am still worried about the Clomid.  Will it thin my lining?  If my ovulation is pushed to Day 12 of my cycle won't my luteal phase be too short if my period is due on Day 25?  Should I take progesterone after the IUI?  If so how much, when and for how long?  I've made an appointment with my GP, but I'm sure he won't know the answers because he's not a gynaecologist.  Copenhagen Fertility Centre gave me the Clomid, but are not , it seems, really going to advise me beyond that.  The NHS won't refer me to a gynae.  I feel stressed out, to be quite frank.  Think I might just join my will to live in Australia.

However, let's see what my GP has to say tomorrow.  Perhaps it's time to get a little bolshy and demand some sort of help.  I may be over 40 and single, but I'm not asking for free assisted reproduction treatment, just some bloody help in asking what I should take to help myself.  Surely after paying tax for umpteen years, and after having major gynaecological surgery, that's not too much to ask?

The Denmark Dash

Ok, so it couldn't get any more stressful.  My calculations about ovulating on Day 12 as my cycle was longer?  Wrong.  I started testing on Day 9 in the morning and it was positive.  What the hell? What is going on?  I hadn't tested on Day 8 so I had no idea if this was the first surge.  I rang Copenhagen Fertility Centre, which I will now call CFC, and they advised me that I should come on Day 10, the next day.  However, I looked at the cost of flights and that wasn't going to happen.  So the clinic agreed I could come that afternoon.  Cue mental booking of outrageously priced flights going from Gatwick and coming back to Stansted, phoning work and taking an emergency day's leave and getting my butt to the airport for 12pm.  Stressed, moi? 

I don't know - I wasn't having ovulation pains, but I was hot as usual and the other signs were there.  Something, however, didn't feel quite right.  It was just too early and even if it wasn't a false positive result I really shouldn't be having an IUI until the day after.  I could virtually see £750 burning in front of my eyes, but still I went.  I must be desperate.

So, how was my first experience of CFC?  Mental, that's what.  I arrived at 17.35 Copenhagen time and as I walked into the deserted clinic it dawned on me that they had kept it open for me.  Oops, how bad did I feel?  Quite.  The lovely nurse whipped me into a clinical room with a surgical bed that sported leg stirrups.  It couldn't be more different from Stork Klinik.  Then the doctor appeared.  Friendly, but curt.  He got me on the bed and before I knew it he was in there with metal contraption and the catheter in less than 1 minute and boy did it hurt.  I kept telling myself that it was £150 cheaper than Stork.  I signed a release form and a donor form telling me I had just been inseminated with sperm from a blond, blue eyed donor of 182cm height.  Ok...The thing is I took a chance coming on the same day as a positive result because CFC includes an ultrasound to check whether you really are about to ovulate.  I thought that if it was a false positive they would say and I would save 2300DK (£275)  I didn't get this however.  I figure this is because they were slightly pissed at keeping the clinic open for several hours just for me and I wasn't using medication.  However, it may have been because you are supposed to book this in advance.  It wasn't clear. I left feeling unsettled and tearful afterwards.  I was back on the street immediately.  No lying down chill out for 30 mins here.  I took myself into town and sat in a bar on the harbour and ordered a red wine.  I began to relax.  Next time, I thought I would not come on the same day and I would bloody well stay the night.  I'm going to take Clomid next time so I need some help about how this will work, given that my ovulation is now all over the place after the miscarriage.  I will bombard them with questions and I might even do a dry run in August.  Take the meds, put the money aside and clock when I ovulate, but not go.  It will make me feel a little more in control.  CFC are very professional, don't get  me wrong, and very clinical, but it's a little bit of a nightmare trying to figure out if I was supposed to book an ultrasound, if I was supposed to only come in the morning etc. etc.   They seem to rush you in everything they do and it's difficult to figure out what the process is. This is the price you pay for doing it overseas.

Getting on the train from Stansted back to London at well past 23.00 I was bone deep exhausted and vowed I would never do The Dash in one day again.  Flights in the summer are just too expensive, so I guess I will have to accept that and do one in September and my last try in October.

How do I feel now?  Well I have stopped having cramps and I am not exhausted anymore, so all has returned to normal.  God knows how long I will have to wait for my period.  32 days? 28 days?  As someone who has been absolutely regular with my cycles and my ovulation, I'm finding this a nightmare.  I haven't even bothered buying a pregnancy test.  I may as well just sit it out for my period to start because I've no chance of my egg having met that sperm this time.  2 days after my IUI I was really hot and crampy and I think that was when I was ovulating.  I wasn't very well on Day 9 early morning so maybe that's why I got a false positive on the ovulation test.  I'll never know, but I do feel a bit of a muppet for wasting all that money and putting myself through that kind of stress.

The things we do...

And now for the science bit

It has been some time since my last blog.  All quiet on the western front while I waited for cycle number 2 post miscarriage.  I reasoned 26-28 days, but no...32 days.  So I would hazard a guess to say that ovulation will commence later again, say Day 12.  Financially it would be fantastic if it were Day 13 so I'm not flying at the weekend and paying exorbitant prices.  I will say this, if you're living in the UK and about to do the Denmark Dash, start in the winter months - it's so much cheaper.  In the meantime, yet more tests and some strange news.

My GP was not satisfied with everything after I continued to complain of fatigue and being wiped out. So liver, kidney, thyroid were all rechecked and all normal, thankfully.  FSH down to 6.2 and Estrogen normal, which has got to be good too.  Now, I have little knowledge of Androgen, but apparently there was a bit of a 'concern' in that department.  The fertility specialist at the GP practice, Dr. M, tried to explain that my level was a little low and this could be a problem sometimes. I don't appear to be producing enough of the stuff that attracts testosterone to it and stops you from having too much. However, as my actual testosterone level is low too, there is nothing to worry about.  So not a man then.  My chin may be doubling, but no beard it seems.  I am not yet hirsute.  Thank. God.  The spreading middle is quite enough.

Nothing else to report really.  Just hanging on in there and hoping for the best.  Slightly apprehensive as to whether I will be able to afford this round and PMS symptoms becoming truly unbearable, but as I have no thyroid problem, no iron deficiency or any other ailment, I have accepted that this is just peri-menopause in all its glory.  Fabulous.

On the up side I will share with you three stories of women past 40 who have been successful.  We all need a bit of a boost sometimes, I say.  So... a woman of 46 who conceived naturally with her partner and had a healthy boy.  That's success story number one.  Number two, a  44 year old woman successful after donor insemination and a bout of Clomid, now 5 months pregnant. And number three, a 43 year old just pregnant with donor sperm and no fertility drugs.  Keep the faith and a full dose of folic acid.

Next post will be sooner rather than later.  I expect to fly between the 15 -18 July for, what will be Round 4 and over half way to my allotted 6 goes.  It's a lottery, but a damn sight more expensive!

Obstacles

I have just checked the website for flights to Copenhagen on July 8-10 when I am probably going to ovulate and, unbelievably, we're looking at £180-200 already!  God only knows what the price will be when it gets to the point I can actually book flights.  I can't reasonably do that until Day 1 of my period, because I'm not sure if I will follow a 24, 25, or even 28 day cyle this time. Even then it's a minefield knowing whether I will ovulate on Day 10, 11 or 12.  So, this time around it looks like my flights will actually cost more than my insemination. Fabulous. 

I do wonder whether or not fate is beginning to get rather fed up with me constantly trying to swerve the various obstacles it has tried to put in my way and has decided to screw me over with the one thing it knows I cannot overcome - money.   If the flights are more than £300 then I will have to wait again.

Added to which, I seem to have hit a bit of a downer mood wise.  I don't know if it was because I went on dates that did nothing to help my self esteem, or because I'm working my butt off exercising and shedding not a pound from my tummy, back and chin.  Or maybe it's because I have the very uncomfortable feeling that time is hastening me towards the prospect of childlessness, not to mention being alone, and I have no idea how I will get over it.  I know that I have around 3 times left to try, but I feel today as though everything is conspiring against me.

If I was to really indulge in self pity I'd say I feel  rejected, unloved, fat, old and useless today.  Yes, it has been a rubbish weekend.  It's time's like this I just want to move abroad, buy a dog, eat whatever I want and drink red wine. And no longer care about being a mother (or never being with a man again.)  Somedays, I just feel like I want a release from this deep seated desire to have a child.

However, I suppose as ever it's pick your ass up off the floor time and get on with it.  Maybe without a smile this time.  I wonder if anyone else feels the same...

And we're off

It was a little grim to say the least waiting for my period after miscarriage.  I had PMS symptoms 24/7 for almost 4 weeks, still had some pregnancy symptoms and felt completely rubbish.  Not to mention snappy.  Finally on Saturday 4 June it appeared.  A nice little dragging sensation in my abdomen and then whoosh!  Heaviest one I've experienced since my myomectomy to remove those excessively large fibroids.  This is where it helps having a good friend who's Matron of the Emergency Gynaecology Unit and Head of Midwifery at a London hospital. Heavy periods after miscarriage, she tells me, are quite normal.  So, with some relief I settle in and wait for step number two - ovulation.  Those of you who've read my blog before will know that I'm a Day 10 girl in that department, but who knows this time around?  I have a huge box of test sticks to insert into my digital test kit and so I'm ready and able to test pretty much every day from Day 6.

So I tested.  And tested, And tested.  Just beginning to give up thinking that perhaps nature had decided for me that enough was enough and then bingo. Today on Day 12, this morning to be precise at 7 am, there he was - the little smiley face.  If I was a religious person I'd thank God.  As it goes I will just thank my body for playing ball. 

I know this seems like a strange decision, but I have decided to wait this month and begin again in early July.  I didn't have to medically speaking, but if I am honest I didn't feel quite right until really recently and I am so sick of being penniless.  All in all it seemed the right thing for me to do.  Not that I've got time to play about with.  However, it would be a waste of money if I'm not physically feeling on top of the world and I quite clearly wasn't. I was suffering quite extreme fatigue, a kind of juddery low blood sugar feeling and had a few headaches. I want my last three chances to be good ones and mentally I also needed to sort a few things out in my head.  It's getting closer and closer to end game for me, but I don't want that affecting my state of mind when I go for an IUI because that creates a Catch 22 situation.  It's all about not putting too much pressure on yourself.  I keep thinking back to the fact that last time I had an IUI, and it was successful, I really didn't feel that bothered or stressed by it because I assumed it wasn't going to work and devoted my energies into finding out about medication for next time.  It's interesting that my state of mind probably allowed me to relax so that it did work.  We have to be mindful how much pressure we do place on ourselves, particularly as we carry that weight alone, financially and mentally and it feels like so much is at stake. We must relax.

I have been trying to relax this past month and I've been on a few dates actually. Before there is any rejoicing about this, they were all disasters.  One guy was a 54 year old masquerading as someone in his forties, another was far too far right of centre for me to entertain and looked as if he'd have apoplexy if a hair was out of place.  I was just checking it all out really and boy am I glad it's not a priority for me right now.  The 54 year old explained, in no uncertain terms, that it wasn't just body clock reasons that men required women to be at least 6 years younger after 38, it was also because 'we want a nice firm body and good breasts'.  I'll just let that comment settle as I'm sure you will be with me in thinking 'excuse me?'  I don't think I even need to comment on his comment, do I?  I am constantly surprised by balding men, weathered men over 40 and their appalling attitude to women of the same age, who actually look a hundred times better than they do! The age dodger proudly told me that he was so relaxed about meeting women on dates now (read for that he didn't give a toss) that he turned up in a cardigan with holes in it. The irony.

I digress. Suffice to say that I am gladly leaving all that behind again to prepare for July's IUI now I know I am still ovulating.  Got the Well Woman Pre-Conception supplements on the go, the exercise plan has notched up to a yoga session, a Pilate's session, 3 spin classes and a body conditioning class and the self esteem is slowly on the way up.  No thanks to the misogynist daters. I have to confess that I have had an alcoholic beverage or two this last month, but frankly I needed a little blow out.  That, however, has now stopped and I'm favouring the nettle tea in place of the Earl Grey.  Difficult for me as I am a total tea head, so I'm actually having withdrawal.  Finally, my sympathetic GP has redone some of my fertility tests and has confirmed that my FSH is still under 10 and that there are no issues with my endometrium, or anything else.  Of course, the fact that I'm still producing a healthy number of eggs is no guarantee that the eggs themselves are any good.  This I know, but at least I can continue on this path for a little bit longer knowing that there is a chance.

Playing the waiting game

It's been four weeks since I had the miscarriage.  As of last Thursday I am still showing a positive pregnancy test, so no chance of getting my period or ovulating anytime soon.  I'm reminded that HCG levels have to go right back to zero, that's negative on a pregnancy test, before your body kick starts your cycle again.  Apparently it can be anything from 3-6 weeks for the cycle to begin after a negative test.  Great.  All thoughts of an insemination in June are out then.  Hmmm. And again, hmmm.  Not that I'm panicking or anything.  I just assumed my body would play the game immediately - it usually behaves, apart from the miscarriage of course.  Never thought I'd see the day I would be begging my body to have a period.

So, while I wait I will go back to the donor.  That wonderful Danish man who 'got' me pregnant.  At Stork Klinik you are able to get some very basic details about your donor after you get pregnant if you sign a release form to say you've thought it all through.  There is an argument for knowing nothing, I mean let's face it what good can a few details do you when you've selected an anonymous donor?   But I wanted to know.  I suppose I just felt that it would give me something to tell my child about his/her Danish heritage. I had only specified height must be over 6ft when I made my donor request originally, leaving everything else to chance.  Don't ask me why height was important.  I signed the release form and the information I received back by post was his blood type, height, eye colour, hair colour, weight, physical features and occupation.  It was fascinating.  Really.  Me being me however, I did something I actually feel strangely guilty about, as if I've defrauded the clinic. I knew that Stork only use two sperm banks and both are detailed on their website.  I went on the websites of both sperm banks and did a donor search, inputting my donor's blood type, physical details, occupation etc.  I got a direct hit on one site for the donor, still registered as anonymous rather than open. Exact centimetres, exact blood type (and this was unusual), exact occupation, exact weight etc. I know it was a bit of a long shot, but it seemed impossible that it could be any other donor given the exact combination of details.  The sperm bank said his sperm was sold out at that point, as it probably would be given that the clinic had purchased it recently.  So I took a slight gamble and assumed this hit was my donor. I was able to find out a little bit more about him even though he remained anonymous on the sperm bank.  The bank offered you a chance to buy a little more information in the form of an audio interview with the donor, let's call him A, an extended profile and a family history.  I purchased both for about 25 Euros each.  Two minutes later they were in my email inbox and downloaded.  I was enthralled as I listened and read - all in English.  Bizarrely, A's favourite films were my favourites, his personality sounded lovely, his voice was warm and friendly and his intelligence was obvious.  Even better his family medical history revealed nothing worse than a bit of depression in the mix of relatives and my own family is no stranger to that. Yes, I was very happy with what I had discovered and needed no more information. I just wanted to know that my baby's donor was human really, if you know what I mean, rather than a shot of sperm in a catheter.

Not exactly crime of the century, but I did feel a bit of a cheat. But then, I did it anyway.  I feel a little sad that the lovely A will undoubtedly not be my donor next time.  I had to let Copenhagen Fertility Centre know my donor preferences for the future and I again selected height as being over 6 ft and added hair colour as either brown or blonde and any colour eyes.  It made me think, was I selecting a man that might resemble my ex partner?  Interesting.  Yes, if height is anything to go by!  However, when I got pregnant I didn't really care about any of the donor's details to start with, I was just so glad to be pregnant.  If they had made an error and he had ended up being 5ft 4', I wouldn't have cared.  Dr. J at Copenhagen Fertility Centre, told me 'you might as well specify height, eye colour and hair colour because otherwise I have to pick them and it speeds things up if you select.'    Maybe if he hadn't said this I would have left it all up to fate this time.  Or maybe I would have selected motility and youth if it had been possible!  Given that most donors are under 28, however, that would probably be a bit daft.  Oh yes,  the next time a man over 40 gives you grief about being a woman over 40 trying to conceive, just remind him that a man's motility dive bombs in his thirties.  As one male doctor once said to me, ' actually, the biggest cause of infertility in woman is often their men.'

I have no idea as I write this when I will next be able to have an insemination and I'm hoping that's a WHEN and not an IF, but I do know that when I am able to I absolutely will.  Three more.  For now.  Before I hit 44 and throw myself off a tall building.

Aftermath

Well, it's been 11 days since it all went horribly wrong.  I've had my visit to the Emergency Gynaecology Unit to check what's happened has been 'complete'.  When I arrived the nurse in Reception asked, 'Have you had any bleeding since your last visit?' I looked a little dumbstruck. Of course she wasn't to know that I'd already lost the baby, but it felt absolutely final replying 'Yes, I've had a full bleed, a full miscarriage.  I'm only here to check it's all come out.'  She looked unperturbed, used to dealing with countless women like me, but to give her her due she offered her condolences as she sent me off for a pee sample.  Suddenly inside the loo, grappling with the cap of the sample bottle, I cried.  Don't know where it came from, but I suppose it was just saying it out loud to somebody medical that made it final.

So, one scan later and I'm informed that everything is out.  No D&C necessary, thank God.  After last time (3 and 1/2 hours in surgery and a blood transfusion - they couldn't get around my multiple, large fibroids) I don't think I could have stood that again.  The nurse then explained that I was still showing a positive pregnancy test and would have to wait until it had turned negative before I could count down to my next period and ovulation.  She reckoned this would probably be in the first week of June, given my short cycle of 24 days, if I show a negative test by this week.  I have pregnancy tests to check this.    How ironic that this time I will be willing them to be negative.

I have almost, but not quite, made up my mind to try again straight away, but have this nagging feeling that my body's eggs may just be too past it and the Spanish clinics are right (see my very first post).  However, I've arranged with the new clinic, Copenhagen Fertility Centre, to have the next insemination unmedicated.  Partly because I will have no idea when I ovulate this time and may not get a proper period to aid me in counting the cycle days, so trying to match it all up with taking Clomid days 2-5 of the cycle would be a total nightmare.  And partly because I'm chicken shit and want it to work without drugs!

I asked the nurse at the EGU how everything 'looked'. The nurse who scanned me said my endometrium was a healthy 8 mm just after the miscarriage, so this issue of a thin endometrium seems to be an issue no longer.  In fact it was a good 26 mm when I was scanned before I miscarried, so all the signs say that I was worrying needlessly over this.  The scanner told me there was no hint of an issue. I'll take this opportunity to mention that the lady who scanned me back in October 2010 told my GP that I would be wasting my money because my endometrium was too thin.  Not so love, but thanks for making me worry for 6 months anyhow.  The other good news was that my ovaries still have their follicles and my left ovary appears dominant with a very big follicle to boot.  No idea what this means really, but probably explains the concentration of twinges, pokes, stabs and dull aches on that side when ovulating and when I got pregnant.  Everything, it seems, is looking good, its just down to my eggs and the pot luck of sperm meeting egg during the one shot I get each month.

So there we are.  Some of you tackling donor insemination after 40 might like to take a look at http://flowerpowermom.com/a-child-after-40-online/  It's a new site and she's looking for moderators.  Her story was certainly helpful to me, giving renewed hope after this set back, so take a look if you're flagging.

I faithfully promise to devote the next post to the issue of the donor and the slightly sneaky way I got more info than the clinic offered.  Investigative skills can be useful.  In the mean time, I'm suffering the irritation of being checked out for anaemia and, scarily, insulin deficiency.  I am quite shaky, excessively tired and feel a bit odd.  I hope it's just a reaction to being pregnant and then not being pregnant because I really don't want to see the inside of any more medical facilities unless it's to be inseminated. Once I feel a bit healthier, I will be back to the exercise classes and I'm aiming to drop a few pounds.  There's a whisper of a double chin creeping in and it's going to go if it kills me.

The Fat Lady Sings

Sadly, last night I miscarried and it was the loneliest night I think I have ever spent.  On Tuesday, Week 6 exactly, I felt odd and shivery.  I also felt like I was getting my period and had cramps that just weren't like the ones I'd been having as my uterus was making ready for the baby.  My breasts were still sore, but not getting any more so and definitely not as bulbous, if you'll forgive the use of that word, as they were a few days ago.  I was exceptionally tired, but not quite in the same 'by 4pm wiped out' way as I was a few days past.  I felt shaky, low in blood sugar and ratty and most telling of all I was spotting.  Then came the low, tense and tight cramps, right above the pubis.  I recognised them as similar pains to those I have experienced when having a particularly bad or painful period.

I had spotted before in pregnancy, around the same time at 6 weeks, and it had come to nothing, so I would not have been overly worried had I not had other symptoms.  To be honest though, symptoms aside, I just knew something had changed a few days ago.  I just didn't feel pregnant.  So a visit to the Emergency Gynaecology Unit was in order. A scan revealed a gestational sac in the correct place, so not an ectopic pregnancy.  However, the sac was only 4.7mm and not the size it should be for my pregnancy at 6 weeks. It seemed to spell out only one thing - baby had stopped growing at 4-5 weeks.  The next step was to take a blood test to check progesterone levels.  If the levels are under 10 the pregnancy is failing, if between 10-50 it's a grey area and above 50 is ok, with 80+ being good.  I missed the call from the hospital giving me the results, but by 8pm I had started bleeding properly and the pain was conclusive.  There was no question of it, baby was no more and my body was rejecting it.

I cried from the deepest part of me and wished, sadly, for my last partner to be there just to give me a hug.  I'm sure this was only because he was there last time and I needed that intimacy from somebody.  However, I am on my own now and there is nobody there at times like these, so I made do with a few texts to friends who knew I was pregnant and had supported me and just let myself cry out.  In the end I fell asleep.

This morning I am still upset and in pain, but have talked to the hospital and arranged for a scan, blood test and HCG test next week to ensure full 'evacuation'.  The blood results showed a progesterone level of only 7, so I was correct in my assumption that baby had stopped growing at 4-5 weeks.  Once a negative pregnancy test has been seen I can ovulate at any time and it's possible to try again.  Yes, yes, I know I said I wouldn't do that, but it's funny how your decisions can be called into question so very quickly.  I move fast and even though my miscarriage isn't even over today, I need action to help me get over things and have already contacted the new clinic.  I've asked if  I can have my first insemination with them unmedicated, reasoning that just after pregnancy you are a little more fertile.  Plus, I don't want to hammer my body with meds after all this. 

I may not do it, but I need options.  Choice and options keep the 43 year old single girl, and I use the term loosely, sane and moving forward.  At least I did get pregnant, and on the third attempt.  If I had lost the baby later I really don't think I would have considered trying again, but it has been early enough for me to consider it.

So I am sad today and feel quite sorry for myself on the one hand, whilst on the other I am looking forward to the options I have created for myself.  The Fat Lady has sung this month, but she hasn't yet sung at all my venues.  For any of you going through this, my thoughts are with you and take heart that miscarriages happen to women of all ages and are very common.  They are more common as we age, but are not specific to age.

I will talk about the donor, as I said I would in my last post, but I think it's a topic for a few days after this is over. It may be a bridge too far for me today.

Week 6 approaches

It's Saturday night and I was supposed to be going out, but I am so tired I could sleep in the middle of a Royal Wedding party. This exhaustion is like being flu-ridden or recovering from some dreadful operation.  Bizarrely, I feel glad to feel it.  I'm staying in tonight with hot milk, a good book and my laptop.  Like a saddo.  Thinking this is going to be my life for a while and not really missing having a wine or being in buzzy company.  Yes, definitely a saddo, but a pregnant saddo and I'm very grateful for that.

So this week has been a bit difficult. At work and at home it's like a hideous game of Russian Roulette every time I go to the loo.  Over aware of every twang, poke, dull ache and stab.  Worried when I feel period pain style cramps and worried when I feel ok because that signifies the absence of pregnancy symptoms.  In short, I'm just as much of a basket case now I am pregnant as I was trying to get pregnant.  I wonder if other women who miscarried late, or indeed at any time, feel this level of anxiety when they fall pregnant again.  It's going to be a rocky road if I don't get a handle on this - I won't be in a fit state to look after a baby.  So, what to do?  Well, I've stopped reading the forums after my friend D gave me a row.   He's in Sexual Health and used to giving advice to bolshy teens with too many hormones and not enough knowledge, so I don't present much of a challenge. I have also had a stern word with myself and had a good read of my favourite book for times like this - 'The Art of Happiness' by the Dalai Lama and Howard Cutler.  Great chapter on suffering.  Read it and realise how insignificant you are. Yep, it's up to fate now.  If it's meant to be, it will be.  If not, I will deal with it the way I have dealt with every other little piece of Hell that has come my way over the last two years.  I have also decided that, for me, if my little baby does not make it into this world I won't try again. I can't put myself through it another time if it goes wrong once more, but I do know that, if that happens, I will shuffle off this mortal coil knowing I made the best attempt at being a mother that I could. 

My thoughts have also turned to being a single mum to be.  It's like this - when you learn a new word or fact you see or hear it everywhere and when you break up with someone, it's cosy couples everywhere you look.  Suddenly, everywhere I look there are loved up couples with tiny newborns, toddlers or bumps in the waiting.  It's odd.  It has hit me that there will be nobody with me at my first scan, not unless I invite someone, but it feels too personal for that.  Now I am finally pregnant it's brought back thoughts of my ex partner, how we went to the scan together and how his face looked when he saw our baby for the first time.  It did make me very sad.  To make matters even weirder, he contacted me on the very day I found out I was pregnant, after an agreed silence.  He wants to stand good by his offer of friendship and meet for a catch up.  I have made excuses about meeting up, preferring the safety of email chat.  The reason is simple enough, it seems too odd to meet him when I am pregnant knowing that he won't be the one to go through it with me like last time.  I'm also scared he has news of his own about his relationship with, let's call her The Blonde Teenager, and I don't need, or want, to hear it.  So, I am wimping out for now and keeping him at a healthy distance.  This is my path now and he isn't on it.  Yes, repeat again with meaning please.

I am quite scared about what lies ahead and how I will manage.  Even though I carefully researched everything, read all the books I could find on being a single mother by choice (there aren't too many of those kicking about) and thought it all through, the view from here looks a little different now.  But...I am excited and amazed that I have had this second chance and the thing is, who knows what will happen and where it will take me.  Again, repeat with meaning please.  In all honesty though, I am excited, but I am terrified too and if you're in the same boat as me I hope you can relate to that!

In my next post I want to talk about my donor.  It's brought a few interesting issues to the fore and I think it would be good to share them.  Till then.

Doing it differently

I am now nearly 5 weeks pregnant and still hoping everything will be ok.  I am trying my hardest not to be Ms. Bloody Doom, but sometimes it's hard.  Trying though.

Now, I said I'd post what I did differently this time.  But before I do, a caveat.  For those of you trying to conceive don't assume that what I did is right, a sure thing or necessarily had any effect.  I spent hours trawling every post I could find looking at stuff like this and actually did drive myself bonkers.  So I don't want anyone else to do the same, although we all know that you will.

Right, here we go...

1. Acupuncture - I had a few sessions with a fertility acupuncturist in the month prior to my insemination.
2. I drank nettle tea at the suggestion of my acupuncturist. I drank it 3 times a day.
3. I ate a lot of organic beetroot.
4. I switched to Pregnacare Conception supplements which have some extra bits and pieces for conceiving.  Can't remember what they are though.  Took them for 28 days before this insemination.
5. I ate tons of Brazil nuts (a packet per day) which contain selenium and this is apparently good for fertility.  But, beware the weight gain.
6. Took a body conditioning class, a Latin Dance class and a dynamic yoga class and went to the gym. A total of 5-6 bouts of exercise per week in the 4 weeks preceding insemination.
7. I relied on my body's ovulation predictions over the pee stick.  Although this was not entirely intentional (see earlier post)!
8. After I left the clinic post insemination, I walked a brisk 30 minutes to my hotel and then had a sleep for 2 hours curled up in the warm, fluffy duvet.  I am convinced that not rushing around to catch a flight was key to the success of this one.  Oh, and I walked for 1 hour plus the next day.  Full on walking.
9. I had a preposterously large glass of wine with my meal the night of my insemination.  I reasoned that the egg was already formed and released and relaxation was absolutely key that evening.
10. And finally - I had kind of given up on the unmedicated cycles, knowing that this would be my last and focused on the consultation at the new clinic I had the day after insemination.  I put my energies into thinking forward to May's insemination and the thought of taking the scary Clomid.  In other words, I didn't think much about that insemination other than that I was going through the motions, paying lip service to cycle number 3.
11. Oh... and I had a month off in March.  A stressful one, but one where I was forced to think about something else.

Here's hoping I make it to week 6.  That seems to be the first danger zone.  For those of you continuing your journey, I wish you all the luck in the world and am crossing everything I can for you.

Third time lucky

Looks like I won't be needing a visit to that new clinic I sized up, nor will I have to take the proposed Clomid after all. I almost can't believe I'm able to write this but... I am pregnant.  In terms of the internet's best due date calculator I am 4 weeks pregnant to be precise.  I can't quite get my head around it and am still dashing to the loo every ten minutes expecting to see the red visitor.

Around 8 days after the insemination, I knew.  There were only two tell tale signs that were markedly different, given that all cramps, bloating and twangs could be either pms or pregnancy.  The first was this... Normally, 7 days before my period I have extremely intense irritation and snap at the slightest thing.  I describe it as a kind of tummy flip.  I don't appear to have any control over it and when I think back to all my terrible arguments with my last boyfriend, each one was right before my period.  Including our ultimate one.  So when I was 5 days away from my period and felt serenely calm I knew something was definitely going on.  The second thing was a total lack of sore boobs.  Again, these normally kick in around 7 days before my period.  I must have looked like a crazy woman, constantly tapping and touching them for signs of soreness, oblivious to the public.  There are names for people who do that.  3 days before my period I could feel them just beginning to ache, but in a different place. I cried for a whole day as I'd been so convinced that I was pregnant, I couldn't believe it had just been a delayed period.  Just out of sheer bloody mindedness and spite I took a test the next day and I was completely floored by the very faint line that popped up next to the control line.

I took another the next day and another the next, both faint positives.  I was convinced that I had an ectopic or non-viable pregnancy as the lines were so faint.  Why in God's name are my HCG levels not rising?  So I waited another three days, driving my self and my friend, D, truly mental by reading forum after forum.

Finally I tested on Monday, 3 days after my period was due and there it was - a dark line, not quite as dark as the test line, but clear and bold, appearing in 10 seconds.

You'd think that I would be ecstatic immediately, wouldn't you?  And let me tell you I really, really am. But.  And here's the truth. I am now overly aware of (read completely obsessed by) every little cramp, pain and twang and am STILL driving myself loopy. Is it ectopic? It's bound to be. How could it attach to my thin endometrium? What if it has attached to the scars where my fibroids were removed?  It won't make it. I'm 43; the miscarriage rate is 50%. It's inevitable. Aaaaahhhhhh!

Fortunately, for everyone concerned,  I have calmed down a bit and have booked myself an appointment with my GP to get myself in the system.  Finally some professional care that doesn't cost me a mortgage payment.  He can check out my ectopic fear in a couple of weeks and monitor any weird pains, which I seem to have a lot of.

Now, lots of women want to know what you did differently when you are finally successful and I did a few things that may have made a difference.  I will tell all in my next post.  For now, I'm still reeling, hoping that I maintain this much wanted mini-baby and terrified about, well everything really. 

So my parting words for this post?  If a 43 year old woman with a recent late miscarriage, followed by a full on open abdominal myomectomy,  leaving a thin, irregular and scarred endometrium can get pregnant by donor insemination and without ANY fertility drugs, then so can you.  It really is not over till that fat lady sings.

And breathe...

I had a hell of a struggle with predicting ovulation this time round.  What possessed me to do two tests at the same time?  I'll tell you what - a complete inability to believe that new products work. Typical know-it-all Virgo.  So, there I am at 8pm on Day 9 just making sure there's nothing doing before the usual smiley face on Day 10.  I pull off the little pink cap from the inserted pee stick and the whole stick comes out of the test which goes nuts and flashes 'error!' at me.  Ok, I think, let's not panic.  I will drink nothing until 10pm and do it again when the test device has gone back to normal.  And that's what I did.  Except, me being me, I used the old digital test and the new one at the same time,  just to be sure.  Big mistake.  I end up with one smiley face and one blank circle.  What am I supposed to do with that? I ring the clinic and leave a message.  I'm flying out on Day 10 until Day 11 to visit another clinic, so it's not a complete disaster.  Almost as soon as I've done it, I realise I have strong ovualtion cramps and I am overheating like nobody's business.  I am definitely ovulating, but am completely freaked out that it has happened late on Day 9.  In 10 months of testing it's never been on any other day, only Day 10.

At 7am I've checked in at Gatwick and am on the phone to Stork in a state of total confusion whilst wrestling with a Pret-a-Manger Muesli and Granola Pot.  Doubting Thomas here has taken another two tests at 5am with morning urine.  Both negative.  Rising panic.  My abdomen feels fit to burst and I know I'm ovulating.  We decide that I should stop taking any more tests, trust the previous night's positive one and pay attention to what my body is telling me.  And breathe.

Once at the clinic at 1.45, I realise I am super stressed.  The lovely midwife calms me down, plies me with harmonising tea and sets to work.  She confirms that everything looks pretty good in the 'ready and fertile' department, so I relax.  When I'm done with my 'chill out' session after insemination,  I walk 30 minutes to my hotel and crash out in bed for 2 hours straight.  It's all good.

The next day I pitch up at Copenhagen Fertility Centre for my free consultation with Dr Jan.  I've pretty much decided that after 3 failed unmedicated IUIs I must move on.  So, I'm here to find out the possibilities of being treated with meds.  What I discover blows me over.  Not only does Dr. Jan write me a prescription there and then for Clomid, with specific instructions, he beams as he tells me it's 1200DKK cheaper than Stork.  I actually can't believe it.  That's a whole £150!  Back at home I ponder how I obtain the drugs with an overseas prescription.  Pharmacies here can refuse to dispense so I've booked myself an appointment with my GP so he can countersign and while I'm at it I'm asking about Progesterone pessaries.  My lining is dicey and with Clomid it will thin even more.  I'm convinced I need Progesterone to boost that lining.  We will see.

So, back to the aftermath of IUI.  It's day 5 post IUI and I have a strange, lower abdominal dull ache.  A bit like constipation.  Are they post procedure cramps, are they hints of implantation or a stretching uterus?  I know, let's drive ourselves nuts thinking about it!  Step away from Google, Fertility Friends and all medical forums.  After all, I only have two days to wait before my beloved PMS should kick in.  By Day 7 I will have the sore boobs and mood swings if it's not to be, but here's hoping...

Relief, Round 3 and a Danish Pastry...

Perhaps there is a little bit of luck left in my world after all.  Results of the biopsy revealed a non-malignant mass, thought by the consultant to be scar tissue, probably left over from a nasty accident several years ago.  Thinking back, I remember being hauled out of a van that had overturned several times after skidding on ice and snow. I was touring as an actor at the time.  I also remember having my chest smacked against the dashboard at a fair old pace.  So a mass it is, malignant it is not.  I should feel an overwhelming sense of relief, but actually I'm just exhausted.  Really exhausted.   

And so I proceed to Round 3. I have my flights to Copenhagen booked and I'm staying overnight, covering day 10 and 11 of my cycle, when I always ovulate.  If for some reason I don't ovulate at the usual time I can stay another night by changing flights, so no stress there.  I'm even going to try and do a few more touristy things this time to lighten the load.   Don't think I could have coped with another cross- European flight circuit in under 24 hours, especially after the hell of this month. Since I won my reprieve from the Breast Cancer Demon, I have thought more about this whole business of IUIs.  I have been researching on the net (again) and trawled through countless fertility forums (again).  I'm not sure I will do three more of these IUIs if this one fails.  It seems silly to not consider other options. So, I've arranged an appointment at the Copenhagen Fertility Centre on the 31st to check out medicated IUI and IVF options.  Stork Klinik are great, but they don't have the facility to sort out a medicated cycle for you.  I have no idea how to manage a medicated cycle between the UK and Denmark.  After all, I can't afford clinics here, so not sure how it works.  You have to be scanned to check the follicles after taking the medication and I assume that will be around £150 at a private clinic here on top of the medication costs, donor sperm in Copenhagen and flights.  I'm still not sure how I feel about medicated IUI.  Most professionals seem to think it's a total waste of time giving IUI to a woman my age, never mind unmedicated IUI, but I keep thinking back to how I became pregnant immediately -  and I mean after just one unprotected session with my partner at the time - at 41.  I'm ovulating regularly so I suppose the only advantage to medication is to give me more eggs.  I'm beginning to think I'd rather just try IVF, perhaps even natural or 'soft' IVF.  It will mean a gap of 6 months while I scrape the finance together, so it's either 3 medicated cycles of IUI or 1 IVF cycle, both abroad.  I have had quotes from a clinic in Northern Cyprus and from a clinic called Reprofit in the Czech Republic. Lots of single women in the UK appear to have used them, with some success.  I'm not sure I'm mad about the name though; maybe it's a translation issue! To be honest, I never thought I'd consider IVF, but I'm getting very close to giving up.  Living on next to nothing trying to afford this treatment and the complete stress of doing it with nobody really to support me, or even to talk to about it, is getting too hard.  I guess what I'm saying is, it is decision time after this round.  Can I stand 6 more months of being so unbelievably skint I can't buy anything but the essentials, just for one pop at IVF?  Hmm.  The jury is most definitely out on that one. 

For now though, I'm dragging my butt to Copenhagen for Round 3 with practically no enthusiasm and absolutely no faith in the outcome.  Well, perhaps just enough to get me there. Might as well enjoy the Danish pastries while I'm at it.  I spend 6 sessions a week in the gym at seriously physical classes so I think I bloody well deserve a calorie laden, almond flavoured, sugary carb hit.

Anything but a month off

Well, this was supposed to be a stress free month off to build up enough finance for more donor insemination and to try out fertility acupuncture.  I did put away some money and I did try the acupuncture - two sessions so far.  I have no earthly idea whether or not it has worked, or will work, but I'm due another session next week just after my period begins.  It's a weird sensation being a pincushion; I had a strange electric shock like feeling in my right leg, almost as if the nerves were being woken up and a dull ache around the other points. Once the needles were in the sensations calmed down.  My acupuncturist has worked specifically with fertility and had lots of advice to impart - nettle tea, Royal Jelly and Omega 3 were just some of the things she suggested .  If nothing else, it's been informative.  I did feel very relaxed afterwards, however that feeling was soon obliterated thanks to a recall to the Breast Cancer Unit.  A few months ago I experienced pains in my breast and went to my GP who referred me to the hospital.  Best to check it out.  He's a good sort my GP.  That visit resulted in a mammogram and I thought that would be the end of it.  Of course not! I had to go back to check out two masses they'd found.  Cue ultrasound, biopsy and disbelief.  How much bad luck can a person have in two years?  I won't go into detail, but my second trimester miscarriage and relationship breakup were just two of a string of bad things that I experienced, quite literally, one after another.  I must be a reincarnation of somebody really, really evil for this level of bad luck to continue.  A relentless stream of rubbish. It's bloody hard to stay positive and after a while you just get numb.  When the next bad thing occurs you feel nothing, but possibly a bit of 'here we go again'. I can accept it when I've had a hand in my own bad luck, but bereavement, miscarriage and illness kind of get slung at you.  My results will be back this week.  If it's good news I can proceed with insemination number 3.  Or to be more precise I can proceed to round 3 if I ovulate on payday or the day before.  If it's two days before, I'll be going nowhere.  And...if it's not good news I have absolutely no idea what I will do, but it will mean a final goodbye to any baby hopes.

So I wait.  Not really stress free or relaxed now and wondering whether I should just give up.  Friends are popping babies out left, right and centre, all with doting partners in tow.  I am pleased for them, but I fully admit that it makes me feel crap.  I can't help but wonder if, at 43, I am a total lost cause, regular ovulation and good FSH aside.  Surely, the Universe is trying to tell me something.  Something like 'Get over it, you are not going to be a mother and you will be on your own for the rest of your life, short or otherwise.'  Possibly very true.  Then I think about Japan.  I'm not homeless, not freezing to death and not about to be infected by radiation.  So yes, I should get over it.

The blight of PMS

Well, at 7 days past the IUI I started getting sore and swollen boobs and the blighters have got worse and worse.  I'm already a big chested girl; now Jordan looks like an A cup next to me.  I've had cramps and a sort of heaviness in my abdomen, kind of like constipation, but different.   Not very scientific in explanation, I know.  I am not really sure why my unmedicated IUIs are bringing on such extreme PMS symptoms, and so soon.  I normally get mood swings about 7 days before I'm due my period, but sore and swollen breasts and cramps usually only 3-4 days before.  Now it seems that I am suffering for a whole 9-10 days!  Grim.  Still, I suppose it cuts down the two week wait to just one week.  I am feeling so irritable and down that I've taken half a day's leave this afternoon and come home. I must have seemed like a moody witch to my colleagues, who know nothing about what I'm doing.

So,  I'm snuggled on the sofa watching a truly rubbish DVD (The Boat That Rocked - utter trash), I feel swollen in every area and about as pregnant as an old man.  Ah well. Although I have been calmer this time and less obsessive, I took an early pregnancy test 10 days after the IUI to see if the weirdy cramps were a symptom of pregnancy.  I knew damn well they weren't, but I was ever hopeful.  It was, of course, negative.  I now wait for the dreaded flow which is another 4 long days away.  I feel disappointed and hugely irritated that I am swollen, whale like and sore with no reward to be gained at the end of it.

I'm sure everyone going through this experiences something similar.  You can drive yourself crazy.  I have read countless forums and experiences of other women and I don't know if it helps.  Sadly for me, a British woman doing this on my own finances (over 40 and single), I have no support from a gynaecologist or fertility expert to tell me if I'm wasting my cash.  All I have to go on is the tests my GP did for me.  I have an FSH of 7.5, 10 antral follicles, good clear ovaries and an endometrium that's as thin as it's allowed to get before it's pointless.  I am grumpy and feeling very sorry for myself today, wishing I'd not wasted my time in a long relationship that failed so late on in my biological clock, leaving me in this position past 40.

Oh well, spilt milk and all that stiff upper lip stuff.  Time to down another vat of Earl Grey tea.  I'm having March off to replenish my finances and do some acupuncture.  I think I need a month off so that I don't become absolutely deranged!   Here's hoping a few needles, Eastern thinking and some new clothes will make a difference for April.

Three countries in one day

My Grandmother, God rest her soul,  would have called me plain crazy. In an effort to save money, I spent Thursday 10 February in London Heathrow, Copenhagen and Frankfurt.  My heels barely touched the ground in either country and my planes home were, of course, delayed.  Knackered didn't cover it.  I had thirty minutes peace laying on the insemination couch for my required 'chill-out' time, but apart from that it was an 18 hour day of rushing and pure exhaustion.

I had lots to worry about when I called the clinic and left an answerphone message on the evening of the 9th.  Would they get the message, would they book me a slot, would there actually be a slot after I paid for my ridiculously expensive flights?  I arrived at Heathrow at 8am and called the clinic, 9am their time.  No need to worry. They'd booked me a slot exactly one hour after I landed to ensure I could make the appointment and in case of minor delays.  Panic over.  The problem with doing this overseas is that if you are more than 70 minutes late for your slot, the washed sperm sample is useless and you still have to pay for it.  Nightmare.  Still Scandinavian Airlines has punctuality as its strapline and they weren't wrong.  I can only imagine if I had used BA -late, delayed, cancelled. I arrived with time for an earl grey tea and a healthy sandwich in my favourite little Baresso coffee shop, at the end of the clinic's street.  A deep breath in and a smile on my face, off I went for round 2.

This time it was quite uncomfortable, but not exactly painful.  I had a different midwife, but she was just as nice and encouraging as the last one.  They take their time with you and create a mood of relaxation.  I worried it would be like the dreaded smear test, which I absolutely hate, but it's nothing like that.  That is Hell, this is ok.  She didn't rubbish my feelings about how I thought I might have conceived last time and she was supportive about how to manage the two weeks wait.  We talked about hormone treatment versus natural cycle and agreed that for me, with my stats, natural is still the best way forward for the first few times.

Once cocooned on my Lufthansa flight to Germany (delayed) I felt a bit sore and crampy, but otherwise fine.  I was delighted to get a free snack and drink, meaning no need to change money to stop starvation in Frankfurt.  It occurred to me as I caught flight number 3 back to London (delayed), that I was less excitable and calmer than last time.  As always, my thoughts turned to my previous partner and how much I miss him.  He is now in love with someone else, a girl 13 years younger than both of us.  It hurts terribly when I realise that he will have a family with her, naturally and with ease, especially as we lost our baby.  I do torture myself with this daily, but this is my path now and I can only move forward.  When I'm tired and a bit emotional this is very hard to do, but in true British style I have a nice cup of tea and think of  a gorgeous little baby in my arms, half Danish, half Scottish.  Hope is a wonderful drug.