My last fling

Well, I have been a little lax at blogging lately.  I'm exhausted!  I booked flights and accommodation at the Wakeup Hotel (www.wakeupcopenhagen.com) early, making sure they stretched across CD11-13.  It was so much cheaper doing it that way and it meant that I got an extra night in Copenhagen.  As it was my last time, I thought it would be nice to spend more time there.  So, the Clomid gave me vile constipation, as usual, and made me uptight, but apart from that and a few flushes it was business as usual.   I flew on CD11 and because I had to leave so early, testing for ovulation at 5.30am was not productive.  I wasn't worried though, I had two days to get a positive.  I did test again just before boarding and there it was, mister smiley face.  Bingo.  Cue me in a recess between the departure lounge and the gate on my mobile arranging an appointment at the clinic.  Much cause for interest when you're having to shout above the hubbub of noise on a foreign phone call, 'I started my period on the 29th, yes!'.

On arrival I could not quite get over the cold.  It was bone chillingly cold, and I'm a native Scot, so I'm supposed to be used to it. Dr Sven gave me an ultrasound and we discovered two large follicles about 21 and 22 mm, with a third following close behind.  Insemination was set for the next day and the nurse gave me a shot of Ovitrelle to ensure release of the eggs and prepare my lining.  Off I went to get some lunch and to do a bit of well-earned shopping.  I didn't quite manage sightseeing on account of the sub zero temperature, more a tour of every coffee shop between Stroget, the main shopping street, and my hotel.  I'd like to say I lived it up in a nice restaurant that night, but even having a little more money than usual was not enough to really enjoy Copenhagen.  I made a mental promise to myself, as I sat in Wagamama's restaurant,  that I would return one day with a friend, hopefully even a boyfriend, having brought around £150 a day.  Then I would finally be able to enjoy the true delights Copenhagen has to offer.

Next day, the cold was worse.  I had to position my scarf over my nipples to bear it!  I arrived at Copenhagen Fertility Centre expecting Dr Sven or Dr. Jan, but was greeted by a girl.  I mean she looked about 12 years old. I must be getting really old, or she's a child genius. In fact, she was a student gynaecologist, but someone needed to tell her that chewing gum whilst talking to anxious patients was not particularly reassuring.  Every gynae has to start somewhere I suppose, so I had no problem with her doing the insemination.  Until she couldn't do it without causing me pain, that is.  She tried three times to get the metal thingy up there and I was having none of it.  Dr Sven was called and did the deed, without pain, in under a minute!  I was relieved given it was my last shot. I was more anxious than usual.

Before I left, I talked about donor eggs to my nurse. She gave me the lowdown.  It would cost around 5000 Euros plus medication at 1000 Euros plus.  Ouch!.  I'd go to Denmark on CD 21 to be 'down regulated' then I'd fly to Greece a few days later.  The clinic they use has around a 65% success rate.  It would be easier, she said,  because CFC had all my charts and tests already as they'd been treating me for 6 months.  Hmm.  More expensive and more hassle than Dogus Clinic in Northern Cyprus, and if reports are to be believed 10% less of a success rate.  Food for thought.  It was time to leave Denmark though and I had to stay positive for this last round.  'Let's believe it will work', said my nurse, 'it should, it all looks good.'  Here's hoping...

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...

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!

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.

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..