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.

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.

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.

While I wait

I know I said I'd next blog when I'd done the test on the 29th, but I couldn't resist.  A couple of days after the IUI in Copenhagen I began to get weird tight, pinchy abdominal cramps.  Not painful, but accompanied by excessive gas.  Nice.  Suddenly I can rival a teenage boy in the fart department.   I'll stop short of trying to light them though,  for everyone's sake. I recognised these signs as being identical to the very early stages of my previous pregnancy.  Those signs are still here and now I am having vivid dreams, slight nausea, sore breasts, snappiness and fatigue that could floor an Ox.  Although it's only one week and one day since I had the insemination I feel something's 'up'.  If I'm not pregnant then I must be coming down with something.  So I started over analysing.  Of course I did.  Perhaps the cramps are just my uterus reacting to the IUI, I'm getting a cold, have eaten too much rubbish and my swollen boobs and snappiness are just the usual signs of PMT.  Or... I have conceived, hence the signs, but the fertilised egg couldn't attach and I'm not going to be pregnant.  Positivity tempered with some very strong negativity - always a winning combination.  I'm unable to think about anything else and super alert to very little bodily change.  I find myself actually happy when I feel so exhausted I could sleep on concrete or nauseous when I'm on the bus.  I don't dare count my chickens before they are hatched, but I can't help being hopeful.  It's the kind of thing I shared with my boyfriend the last time, but this time I don't have that luxury.  So I share with one of my friends who knows and post here.

It made me realise that there is a whole other consideration about who you tell and when.  There are many friends who would be brilliant about this, and were, when I mentioned it as a possibility months ago.  It's interesting that now I'm actually doing it I have mostly told friends that I don't see often and whom I'm not particularly close to, with one exception.  I suppose I don't want to have to answer questions every month about whether or not I'm pregnant.  I have also made the decision not to tell anyone else in the event I do get pregnant till I'm at least 16 weeks or showing.  The reason for this is a bit daft, but I lost my last baby thanks to huge fibroids degenerating in the second trimester, well after the supposed safety of week 12, so I suppose I'm being over cautious.  I don't want to jinx it.  That's the truth.  I think I'll be too scared to buy anything if I do manage to stay pregnant past 4 months, for the same reason. I have this vision of me, hugely pregnant, ordering a cot and other baby furniture from IKEA at the eleventh hour and then not being able to put it all together.  I remember my mother telling me that when I arrived she was so unprepared that my Grandpa was sent to buy a moses basket on the day I arrived.  This was all because she'd had two miscarriages followed by a stillborn before me.    I really understand this now - don't tempt fate.  Crazy behaviour nonetheless. 

So, I have 6 days left to wait!  Here's hoping the pregnancy signs continue and that I don't get a cold, the flu or my period. Mine's a helping of cramps and bloating with a side order of nausea please.  Throw in some attachment bleeding for good measure.  For anyone else on the same track, I wish this for you too.

The best laid plans...

Between my consultation and my period I was stressing out watching the cost of easyjet flights go up and up.  For the last 6 months my digital ovulation tests had shown that, no matter what, I ovulated on Day 10 of my cycle.  As my cycle was between 24-27 days each month, I thought this would be a piece of cake. However,  watching the pennies meant I couldn't risk buying flights only to ovulate on a later or earlier date or worse, not ovulate at all.  Equally my budget wasn't going to stretch to stupidly priced last minute flights.  What to do?  I gambled.  The night before I was expecting to ovulate, I booked a flight and a night's accommodation ( remarkably good, chic and cheap - Wakeup Copenhagen at £60 a night). I'd already booked the time off work. I figured I'd give myself a two day chance and also a proper chance to find everything and see a bit of Copenhagen.  However, the voice of doom began to whisper at 6am the next day - no ovulation and a flight to catch.  Once I arrived I tried again, with two pee sticks for good measure.  Nothing.  I calculated I still had that night and the next morning before the game was up and I'd wasted my money on flights.  I could feel the usual crampy tugs and knew I was ovulating, but the stick said no.  I wandered round a really rather beautiful city, took in an exhibition at the Museum, ate great food, but went to bed disappointed.  This was not looking good.  The next morning at 6am my body was not cooperating, so I had a good cry and hit the sack for a couple of more hours, trying my best to think of it as a 'learning curve'.  Mmm.  Like I needed more of those.  Two hours later, I half heartedly tried again and there it was, a little smiley face in the window.  Cue sobs of relief.  Appointment booked, off I trotted to sight-see, this time with a smile on my face. 

At 2pm, Danish time, I arrived at the clinic fluttering with nerves.  The clinic is a stone's throw from the city centre metro station Kongens Nytorv, a 35K and 15 minute ride from the airport.  A lovely midwife ushered me into a swish room and we sat and had a chat.  I poured out my tale of stress and she smiled knowingly.  Apparently this is all too common and some women don't ovulate at all until they're back home after wasting flights, especially the first time.  So I was lucky.  The learning curve?  Don't bloody book your flights until the smiley face appears.  You then have 24-36 hours. 

The whole process took 15 minutes, plus a 30 minute chill-out lie down afterwards.  It didn't hurt, was remarkably easy and very well explained.  She also told me everything 'looked good', which was so nice to hear after constant sharp intakes of breathe about my age over here.  All I have to do now is wait 14 days and I can test.  Flying back I felt a bit crampy, but this is perfectly normal.  As I flew I considered what I'd just done.  It has to be the weirdest thing I will ever do, but I don't regret it for a minute.  I'm hopeful, excited and restrained all at the same time.  I have been pregnant before, but now for me the issue is whether or not my endometrium - after a second trimester miscarriage and an abdominal myomectomy to remove large fibroids -  is thick enough to welcome any fortunate fertilised egg.  We will see.

The next time I blog, we'll all know..