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.

Early morning flight to Copenhagen

Perhaps it's just my ill luck, but flights tomorrow are outrageously expensive.  Is it a special day in Denmark or is the evil Jinx Fairy having a laugh?  I have had to hang on till I ovulated so I don't end up as stressed as last time. My body hasn't let me down.  As of 8pm tonight, there's the little smiley face ready for Day 10.  I should have just booked my flight last month after all and then I wouldn't be paying as much for a flight as I am for the IUI!  So here I am, twenty minutes after seeing the cheery chappy in the pee stick window, desperately trying to book a flight.  I've got one, but am having to go all round the houses to get back to London.  Still, I've never been to Frankfurt. I am sure the airport terminal is very nice.

This month I really am down to the wire with money.  Every penny is acounted for and I'm a little scared that I might not be able to manage for the last two weeks of this month on what I've left myself.  However, somehow I will.  It could be worth it after all and if it means simple, basic foods, then so be it.  At least not drinking alcohol is a major saving.  So Copenhagen here I come.  4000 Danish Kroner, check. 200 spare kroner for a coffee and a sandwich, check. Passport, check. Call to Stork Klinik to book the slot, check. Will to live, check...

Round 2

I'm a few days away from ovulation and the next round of IUI.  I'm finding it hard to keep positive and feel a bit low.  Of course, feeling low isn't a great boost for your fertility so am trying to look after myself.  Normally I'd share a glass of red wine with a friend (or a bottle), but of course - no wine!   So I've been trying to eat foods that can help boost the endometrium.  Lots of beetroot, red meat, fish and spinach.  After a bit of research I've also discovered that eating the core of a pineapple, from the first day of the IUI to day five after ovulation, is supposed to help an embryo attach.  God knows why, but pineapple core contains bromelain which apparently is a boost to the uterine lining.  It's worth a try I suppose; after all it doesn't cost a lot and it can't hurt.

I have also turned my thoughts to acupuncture,  a therapy that has had very positive PR for aiding fertility.  It's costly though, especially when you're doing this alone and saving every bit of cash for the actual monthly IUI.  However, I've found  a centre with an acupunturist who specialises in pre-conception and fertility and offers a low cost service for just £25 a session.  We will see if it helps, but I am sure it can only do good.

Armed with some prospects for helping myself, I am thinking ahead now to next week's IUI with more hope.  It is hard doing this alone, there's no question of it, but actually maybe there's something to be said for having the strength to do it alone.  I can imagine that some male partners might find the trial this can impose on a woman hard to grasp.  At least I can't have my expectations of support and understanding dashed!  Here's to keeping the faith...

End game for this month

Ah well, tested today 14 days past ovulation and it's negative.  I can feel a particularly nasty period coming on.  Dragging sensation in my abdomen that's really very pronounced, hot head and incredibly wiped out - way more than usual.  I suppose it's the stress and anxiety of the last few weeks, waiting for ovulation, dashing over to Denmark and then desperately 'listening' to every change in my body for the last two weeks.  I maintain that I did conceive, but am sure that the embryo just did not attach.  However, I've no way of proving it.  I feel worried now because the last two times I became pregnant it was immediate; the first time I had unprotected sex in each case I fell pregnant.  My negativity is shouting 'if it hasn't happened the first time this time, it ain't going to!'  It's also saying 'yeah, they were right about the thin endometrium - give up now and don't waste your money.'  But I will.  'Waste' money that is.  I will keep going until my 6 tries are up because I know I want this.

So, the next step is to pick myself up and focus on the next ovulation date.  I can do that.  It's just a particularly miserable weekend because I'm feeling physically rubbish and it's two days to pay day.  Going to drag myself out for a long walk and then have coffee and cake.  I was going to treat myself to a glass of wine, but I've done so well staying off the alcohol since New Year that it seems silly.  However, I think I need a pick me up and it's a clear eleven days until ovulation.  It looks like I'll come on tomorrow or Monday so I would expect my ovulation on the 9th or 10th of February (almost always on Day 10).  At least this time I won't have to pay the weekend insemination fee.  Silver linings and all that.

I had no idea of the level of mental energy involved in this. I wish every woman going through this the stamina to keep it up.  For me the days leading up to my next ovulation will consist of pilates, the gym, lots of good foods and a steely resolve.  I will try my hardest not to be so obsessed next time.  No doubt the surge of adrenalin this last month has probably done nothing to help.

What I learned this week: Waiting is grim

I'm convinced I have PMS.  I've been through a whole range of symptoms so I no longer trust my judgement.  I'm due to test tomorrow, Day 14 after insemination,  but my period could be due as late as Monday as my cycle is between 24-27 days.  Hmmm. This is the most peculiar kind of torture, which makes me wonder if I have the metal to cope with the two week wait, post insemination, for another 6 months.    Part of me intuitively feels that I'm pregnant and part of me is sure my period is on its way.  The truth is that reading forum after forum, articles and comments on pregnancy sites is a contradictory and insane thing to do.  It drives you nuts in the end.  The only conclusion I can come to is that there isn't one.  You just have to wait.  For the record,  the cramps I had last week have given way to a more familiar kind, but I feel a different sort of fatigue, bloating and indigestion from my usual PMS.  What to make of that?

I will be gutted if I get my period, but like everyone else I will just have to look forward to the next ovulation. It is a little ridiculous to expect it to happen the first time and certainly at my age. Somehow, even though I'm often very cynical about most things, I was very positive about this.  When the stakes are high it seems the mind can play incredible tricks on you. The power of suggestion!

I'm giving myself 6 tries and then I will be forced to draw a line under it.  It's the most sensible time frame given my prospects, my doctor's comments, my age and me.  I know how much I can take.  Perhaps I will spend my next 'two week wait' devising a Plan B for after the 6 months are over.  That way, I will obsess less about every little twinge I'm feeling and think about  life without a biological child as a different path, if not a chosen one.

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..

The Consultation

The strangest thing in the world is discussing your most intimate details with a perfect stranger in a foreign country, but that's what comes with a consultation about donor inesmination via telephone in Denmark.  On December 29th I offered up statistics about me that not even my ex boyfriend knows.  Come to think of it nor did I know these facts before I actively pursued this.  When I examine American sites or posts relating to fertility and pregnancy it is clear to me that women over the pond know what's behind every fertility related abbreviation including facts, figures and what they all mean.  I put it down to the fact that we do not have gynaecologists here.  You go to your GP and you can get referred to one, but if it's a pregnancy you're after before you've found a problem, you have no chance of getting access to a gynae.  Unless of course you pay through the nose for it privately.  So, you will understand that this process has made be into a virtual expert.  I can now post on an American forum and know what I'm talking about.  I know that you need to get an FSH (hormone level ) under 10 to be in with a chance.  Mine came out at 7.  Phew.  You need all your blood tests to get the go ahead for insemination - Hep A, Hep B, Hep C, HIV, Chlamydia and often some clinics ask for more than this.  You also need to know that, here in the UK, a Hep B test will usually only be a surface antigen test and you will need the ANTI-HBc test for core antigens too.  This caused me more stress, so if you're going ahead check that your doctor asks for both.  You need to get all these off to the clinic well before your consultation and first insemination.  Get your doctor to do every test he can to determine your fertility and get an ultrasound.  You will need to know how thick your endometrium is and whether your fallopian tubes are ok.

So to the telephone consultation.  It's pretty simple really.  After the medical and health questions there are  lifestyle, food and habit checks.  Are you eating plenty of fish, veg etc. and have you quit the booze?  With a reduction of 33% in fertility if you drink, yes, I've quit the booze. And by the way, if you're a smoker that's a 55% reduction in fertility, so do the maths if you do both.  This is your chance to ask all the questions you want, so use it.  For me it was more about the ovulation tests and when to book flights.  This seemed the stressful part.  However, don't stress.  The Danish midwives at the clinic I used, Stork Klinik, are very easy to talk to, speak exceptionally good English and don't consider any question too stupid.  This is good, if you're like me and alert to everything that could go wrong.  Even at just £500 a pop, it's a stretch for me, so I do not want to be penniless for months without a proper stab at this.

Consultation over - now  I wait for ovulation.  I'm expecting it on January 14th.  The next time I blog, I should have had my 'shot' of Denmark's best.

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.