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...

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.

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.