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?

Donor insemination and the single girl in the UK - A reality check!

Step One - The Decision to Go It Alone
You've done your research (American based blogs, forums and websites), read books from women who've done it already (all American it seems) and you've reached a decision to proceed.   Bravo!  I'm with you, I'm doing it too. However, you'll quickly realise, if you live in the UK, it's after this incredibly difficult decision that it all becomes very, very complicated. Let me explain. There are three things I learned about choosing single motherhood in the UK; forget it, find a man or be loaded. 

Step two - The NHS
The UK is not a great place for single women looking to be mothers.  Firstly, there is the question of the NHS.  The rule here is that if you're single, over 39 and female you will not be treated with donor insemination.   I think I'm right in saying that even if you're under 39 this is true, although you may be eligible for IVF as long as you have a known sperm donor e.g. husband, partner or someone willing. Save yourself lots of heartache and don't go through the rigmarole of trying.  Although I'm told that attitudes are changing, it will be a long time yet before these changes reach the NHS and single woman over 39 will be given any kind of fertility treatment on the NHS.  The HFEA is the body that regulates donor insemination and clinics must consider the 'father's role' in the treatment.  In essence, although it is not quite put this way, the underlying tone is that if you're single, morally, the NHS cannot treat you.  

Step Three - Private Clinics
So to the next step.  I looked into private clinics.  The good news is that there are a fair few private clinics that will treat you as a single women, and if you're over 40.   The London Women's Clinic is amongst these - it gets a good rap - and there are many outside London too. The bad news is that women will have to stump up cash to the tune of £1,800 + per cycle.  Yes, that's PER cycle.  I don't know about you, but as a woman on a normal salary (and mine is by no means bad) this is just not a possibility.  If you're in a couple it is probably about do-able, but on your own? Doubtful, very, very doubtful.  So, what next?

Step Four - That Ex and My Gay Mate
Well, you can always see if that ex you're still friendly with is up for the challenge of co-parenting, but first think about the reality of this.  A good book that outlines the pitfalls of this is 'Knock Yourself Up' by Louise Sloan.  Yes, it's  American so some parts just don't apply to us in the UK, but she does have very valid points to make about this consideration.  I did have an offer, but we both knew it was a fantasy.  Reality bites; none harder than tying yourself to someone with slightly different views on life from you.  Think about it.  The same applies to your gay friend.  For some people it really works out and it is important above all else to have a father, albeit one that doesn't quite fit.  This is something you really need to think seriously about.  I did and I decided it was a NO.  So now what?

Step Five - The Future is Danish
I did my research and Spain seemed a pretty good bet.  It's the place the GP's recommend and it isn't prohibitively expensive.  I even booked a consultation with a clinic in Barcelona at the Fertility Fair in Earl's Court.  Except for one thing...donor insemination without fertility treatment, or rather with a natural cycle, seems out of the question for women over 40.  That's the message I got - you can't use your own eggs after 40.  Having been pregnant at 41 with one try and once at 25, again with one try, (long story as to why neither went to term - one for another blog) I had my bloods done by my GP to see if I was still a viable prospect for natural cycle insemination.  The results?  Good hormones, good level of potential fertility, good tubes etc etc.  No need for Clomid.  OK then, so which country will inseminate me without fertility 'extras'?  The answer is Denmark.  Several good clinics that treat single women and lesbians exist there.  Simple, inexpensive, compassionate and run my midwives who understand a thing or two about women. And you get to go to Copenhagen.  I picked a clinic - I chose Stork Klinik- sent off my 'tests' proving I was clean of all the usual nasties and bingo!  A consultation after 3 weeks with an insemination booked for the next ovulation and a fee of £470 for one anonymous shot of Danish sperm.  Simple. Or is it...

Next blog will talk you through my consultation and what to expect.

Till then.