Farewell IUI

Ah well, pessimist or realist?  You decide, but I am defintitely not pregnant now as my bfn confirms.  My clinic thinks it may have been a chemical pregnancy or just the last traces of Ovitrelle. I'm gutted.  Really gutted, but I haven't changed my mind about going again.  That's it for me for the IUIs - I'm making a decision and I'm sticking to it.  I find I can't really face anyone right now though, I feel a bit raw.  I still work as an actor now and again and I had a professional engagement last night.  I really had to steel myself to get out there and to perform.  It was really hard.  However, like everything else in life somehow you just do what you have to do.  Women are great, aren't they?  We could rule the world and it's oh such a shame that we don't!  I digress, probably because I'm in bits. 

I will activate Plan B when I've caught my breath.  I feel ready now, it's definitely time for the big guns.  I'm going to do the tandem IVF - my own eggs and donor eggs at the same time.  Whichever embryos are the most viable are the ones transferred. May the best woman win, so to speak!  I will give more information on this soon, and on this blog, but for now I am drinking a vat of red wine, eating a ton of Twiglets and Maltesers, sobbing my heart out to Adele's 'Someone Like You' and half watching Mark Wahlberg in some dodgy action film.  Goodnight for now.

The peril of testing before you should

Well, this will be a lesson in waiting until your period is due, I suppose...I tested at 12 dpo, 2 days after after my faint positive test on 10dpo. I was, of course, expecting a darker line than 2 days ago to indicate a healthy, progressing pregnancy.  What I got instead was an even fainter line, barely visible, although it did appear within 3 minutes.  I was floored.  Your HCG is supposed to double every 36-48 hours, so this was rubbish.  Breasts were still sore, twangs and pokes still present and that weird feeling of being pregnant.  Funnily enough, face to face with a 'might as well be' negative I started to feel not pregnant.  Let's face it, if you have to hold the test up to the light to be sure, positive it ain't!  My sneezing and runny nose also developed into a fully blown cold, so nothing to do with pregnancy symptoms either. It was obvious that, either the Ovitrelle was still in my system at 10dpo and was leaving it by 12 dpo, or I had a fertilisation that just didn't implant properly, hence the fading positive.  I also got a very upset, churny tummy later that day and lasting all of the next day.  Signs of my body rejecting anything made?  Hmm.  To say I'm not driving myself mental would be a lie.  I am still having hot spells like I did with previous pregnancies, don't have the psycho, ratty behaviour normally present up to 7 days before my period and still feel a bit different to other cycles.  It's remarkable, the power of the mind.  The thing that tells me that I'm not pregnant is that weird, shaky, low blood sugar feeling that I always get just before my period, progesterone or not.  It's here and it's unmistakable.  I will test tomorrow, but I already know the result.  My last fling really, really had me fooled, but it has come to nothing.  I suppose it was just too unlikely.

Adventures with an HPT

Since I got back it's been mental.  My freelance work has gone into overdrive, I have been preparing to send off a 'dream job' application and I'm dealing with the usual horrors of the progesterone supplements.  When I got back to London on Saturday 11 February, I was really tired.  I had poking feelings and that weird kind of wiped out feeling Cyclogest gives you, but I was good at ignoring it.  Then around 5 days later, last Thursday, my boobs started to get unbearably sore and bulbous.  What a nasty word that is, bulbous!  I ignored it, but did think it was odd.  Been on progesterone for 3 cycles and not had breast pain like that before, but it is a side effect of the drug.  Around last Friday I started sneezing and got a runny nose.  A cold was seemingly on its way.  This is odd for me, I don't get colds.  I eat too much fruit and I'm not prone to them.  One every 3 or 4 years is the norm, but then it was 'bone chillingly' cold in Denmark, so I guess that's why. To stop me going nuts I took at a home pregnancy test (HPT) with First Response on Friday 17th, 8DPO.  You can get a result up to 6 days before your period is due apparently.  It was a big fat negative, but frankly not surprising that early.  Then I became a bit of a loony.  I kept looking at it hours later as there was a weird shadow.  24 hours later I pulled the test apart to look at it a close quarters and a faint pink line could be seen.  Yes, I actually did that.  That's how desperate I was.  I know, I know, you must discard tests after 10 minutes and read them within 3.  Anyhow, spurred on by the tiny, tiny possibility I waited two days more and bought another two tests.  I tested today at 10dpo and within 3 minutes there was a very faint line.  It's pink, but it is very faint.  So now I'm officially excited.  I can't help myself.  I know the Ovitrelle might still be in my system, but then I think if it was it would have been a stronger positive going into a negative, not a negative going into a positive as the days go on.   

Well, I could drive myself mental, but I will wait 2 more days and test again on Tuesday, 12dpo and on CD 23. That's 3 days before my period and I'll do it again on the proper test day, 2 days after that.  I cannot tell you how hopeful I am, but how terrified that I'm seeing things that simply aren't there because this is my last chance.  Given the annoying side effects of progesterone, the only confirmation I can have is a strong positive test once I can be sure Ovitrelle is out of my system.  I made a deal with the Universe.  I will be a good person forever and do anything if I can be pregnant.  Anything legal that is!  It seems too good to be true that my very last time it has worked, but maybe my luck has finally changed.  Till Tuesday...

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...

Happy New Year!

To one and all a Happy New Year!  I hope this year brings all the joy you wish for.  I have been furiously saving for my final shot (no pun intended) at donor insemination in Copenhagen.  I had to let January pass because I spent far too much in December and January.  I felt a bit rebellious after living such a restricted life for the last year; very little money, no (virtually no) alcohol and very little social life.  

So, I am now preparing for the last chance of having my own biological child - no pressure then - and it looks like it will be around February 8-10.  Fortunately it's the Copenhagen Winter Jazz Festival and so I will, hopefully, be able to wind down after the deed with some cool jazz.  I'm quite sad that it will be the last time I visit regularly, for lots of reasons.  I've come to really love Copenhagen, even though it is ridiculously expensive.  I love the cleanliness and openness in comparison to London, the food, the design, the friendly Danes. The concept of 'hygge' is everywhere, right down to candles on the tables of bog standard, chain coffee shops day and night.  I could quite honestly say that I would live there in a minute.  It's been hyped even more thanks to the success of the fabulous political drama 'Borgen' which has recently hit our British TV screens. 

It's just a shame that that it's not possible to have treatment for donor eggs in Denmark.  I believe Copenhagen Fertility Center send Danish women to Greece for this treatment, but I can't imagine that it would be viable financially for me to be under the care of the clinic and then to also travel to Greece.  However, I will ask when I'm there.  It's always possible that it may not be too complicated or expensive.  Research is everything!

The donor egg dilemma

Many people have asked me how I really feel about using donor eggs and donor sperm together and how I think any child I create this way will feel when they find out.  The truth is you cannot know, but I think that is true of any child created in any way.  Children may have many reasons to resent you and many reasons to thank you for creating their life, probably both. There are no guarantees. 

I do know a little bit about this.  I was adopted at 3 weeks old in 1967, a time when adoption came about largely because of the shame of being pregnant out of wedlock.  It's different from today's adoptions, where children are mostly taken into care because of a variety of problems in the birth family and the children have already suffered a geat deal.  I found out I was adopted when I was around 14 years old.  Possibly a little late, but I can understand why my Mother was scared and anxious about telling me and didn't know when it was best.  In those days there was little or no advice on such things and post adoption support for the adopter was poor.  So, my take on it is this; I was so tiny that I remember only my Mother and my Father and the life I had with them.  Although curious about my birth parents later, I never felt an urge to track them down.  I suppose I wanted some details and I know my birth Mother's name, where she lived at the time, her job and my birth name.  I feel no blame or angst for this poor woman who gave me up, none at all.  What is different in using donor eggs and donor sperm is that you give the embryo life and you have the baby from birth, the bond is there straight away. I know how much my parents wanted me and it is a wonderful feeling knowing what lengths they went to to adopt me.  I suppose I feel that, given the right way of explaining it when the time comes, a child created by donor sperm and donor egg may feel the same way. Children just want to be loved, to be cared for and to be secure and safe.  That's what counts. 

I know that I thought long and hard about how I'd feel about a baby that shared none of my genes.  I wanted my own biological child precisely because I was adopted and I wanted to see what it would look like, be like and if it's mannerisms and behaviour reflected mine.  This became particularly poignant when I lost my baby, created with my then boyfriend, late in the second trimester in November 2009. However, I have come full circle.  I reflect back on how people say my sister, Mother and I are so alike and yet, I do not share their genes.  It's the old nature/nurture argument and I'm living proof that nurture is key.

I will try once more to create a baby with my own eggs, but the idea of a donor embryo is no longer something that I worry about.  I think of children I know, my little niece, my God daughter, my friend's children and if anything happened to any of the parents I would give that child a home and love it unquestionably.  I cannot imagine that a tiny little person would inspire anything other than absolute love in me, regardless of its origins. 

I know that in my forties, I may also face the prospect of twins if I'm lucky enough to be successful with donor embryos. This used to worry me, but now I would say it doesn't.  Financially it will be a nightmare and physcially you're going to need help, but think of the advantages after the baby stage.  Two children right away, a playmate and sibling for each other and a bond that will last well after you're gone.

I do know some people who think it a disgusting, selfish thing to do.  And you will face that.  However,  you have to square this with yourself.  To those 'haters' I say, does anyone ask you if your wish to have a child is disgusting or selfish, even though your relationship may be poor or your circumstances less than perfect? Does anyone question your motives for your desire to have a child?  I doubt it.  The same type of scrutiny just does not apply when a partnered man and a woman have a baby in the so called 'natural way'.  But I work in a job where I see what goes wrong in parenting and families and, so far, it has never been because a single woman created a baby with a donor egg and donor sperm.

I hope you forgive this tangent, but I know I'm not alone in wondering if donor embryos are a bridge too far.  I now know what I feel about it, but it took a while to let go of the dream of a biological child and not everyone can.

Negative

I'm sure you will realise that, had I hit the jackpot, I would have posted straight away.  Unfortunately, it took me a few days to pick myself up off the floor so I could post. I waited, like a real patient person, until Day 14 and tested.  A BFN, that's what.  I cried, of course, and then I got myself dressed and out.  In anticipation I packed Friday to Monday full of activities and friends, as well as taking the day off on test day.  Thank God.  I was partly tricked by the progesterone again, but more cautious this time so I'd say less shocked at the result.  The temperature rise got to me in this round.  It was quite distinct and I began to be so convinced. Feel a bit of a fool, to be honest.

I did email the clinic straight away on Friday to ask if there was really any point trying one last time.  The doctors think that I can get pregnant, but it will take time because of my age and once every 2 months is probably not cutting it.  They're hopeful due to how regularly and well I ovulate and also how I respond to the Clomid.  I'm sure they're right, but the question is can I put my life on hold any further, living on sod all?  If I'm going to do that surely I'd be better throwing my money at donor eggs. Everyone around me seems to think so. I feel really old.  I may not be old in actual years, but I'm clearly Medusa in the fertility stakes.

I've already decided, I think,  that I will try to scrape enough together to do a final round in Copenhagen, as I said I would, and then it's saving for the donor package in Cyprus at Dogus Clinic.  It will take me four months to save half the money and, weirdly, I am going to ask my father to lend me the rest so I don't have to wait 8 months.  I can pay him back from the month I go.   Dogus Clinic guarantee you ten fresh eggs and transfer 3 embryos rather than two, freezing the rest.  So if it doesn't work the first time, you can try the rest of your frozen eggs twice more for very little financial outlay.  It's got to be better than one pop only.

So, it looks like I may devote almost another whole year to getting pregnant as my career slides into the mire.  Then there will be an end to it, one way or another.  There has to be a cut off point, as I keep saying.  And I am beginning to dream, nay hallucinate, of what it would be like to afford new clothes, a meal out or a trip away that isn't to Copenhagen. Or what it would be like to think about something else.  My choice though and at least no one, least of all me, can say I didn't do my best to achieve it.  If it doesn't work at all, I can slug champagne on a Mediterranean beach terrace and know I tried. Now I'm off to have a bloody glass of wine.

Two week wait once more

It's purgatory this, seriously.  No symptoms at 9 dpo, which I suppose is also 9 dpiui, except headaches and queasiness from the progesterone supplements. Damn. Then shivers on and off and a few other things I've experienced (you don't want to know) around the same time when it's failed before.  Damn again.  Then today, double queasiness and some pokey and stretching feelings in my lower abdomen.  Maybe...

This truly is rubbish and I have to say I don't hold out much hope this time - I don't feel pregnant.  I feel pissed off is what I feel.  3 big, happy follicles and perfectly timed insemination and still no joy.  How can this be when I got pregnant on one follicle and not so great timing a few months ago?  Well, every month counts at my age, so I guess there may have been 3 big follicles, but there were also 3 dud eggs. Or maybe I'm fertilising and there's just too much scarring and irregularity in my endometrium so there's no implanting going on.

Grim, grim, grim.  One basket case signing off till Friday.