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.

Round 6 - Here we go

I had a lovely time in Copenhagen,  if you eliminate all the stress of waiting for ovulation and trying to get there, of course.  I was beginning to wonder if ovulation was ever going to occur.  Finally, on the evening of Day 11 it happened -  I suppose this is when women on a 28 day cycle normally get ovulation so this time Clomid balanced me rather than making me ovulate extra early.  Cue crazy booking of flights and the Wakeup Hotel. 

I arrived around 12pm and Dr Svend ushered me in for an ultrasound.  I was lucky enough to see 3 nicely maturing follicles, two on the right and one on the left.  My left ovary usually hides from the scanner, so I was pleased to see it in action.  Each one was around 18mm, so Dr Svend booked me in for an insemination the next day at 10.15.  This was also strange for me, as I always have it done the day I arrive and certainly before, what would by then be, Day 13.  To be honest, I was glad as I was exhausted from getting up at 4am.  I went back to the hotel and crashed out for a few hours.

As luck would have it a friend of mine was in Copenhagen on business so we had a lovely, 3 course, evening meal on Nyhaven Harbour.  It was so nice to be with someone you know well and it occurred to me how lonely a trip this can often be. You don't really feel like a tourist because, after all, you're not. I  laugh inwardly when a Danish person asks me if I'm on holiday and what I'm doing in Copenhagen.  I always say 'I'm visiting', but what I'm thinking is 'I'm here for a shot of your country's finest sperm.'  Actually, what I am is a fertility tourist.

The insemination was over in a less than a minute and then I enjoyed a 45 minute acupuncture session with the clinic's resident acupuncturist.  It was my treat to myself because it's nearly all over and I wanted to give myself as much chance as possible.  It proved to be a brilliant idea.  I can honestly say that I went into a lovely state of mind and when it was over, I had the most amazing feeling of wellbeing for hours afterwards.  I've had acupuncture before, but it had never had that effect.  If you go to Copenhagen Fertilty Centre, book the acupuncture!

I've been back a few days and I'm on 6dpo.  Nothing to report really.  A few twinges and pokes, but, of course that's the progesterone suppositories.  I've chosen to take only 400mg a day because last time it drove me a bit nuts.  This seems more manageable.  I'm not feeling hot, I don't have any sore boobs and I feel OK generally.  Who can tell?  I am seasoned enough at this to know that now is around the time implantation takes place and seasoned enough not to obsess about every perceived sign.  I haven't gone near any two week wait forums and have booked up next week to the max so I don't think about it.  I will test on 9 December, which will be 14 days after the insemination and we will see.  I've taken the day off, prepared for the fall out and distress if it's a negative.

In preparation for the penultimate round

So, I've been a bit absent in the month off between the last round and the one coming.  (It takes two pay checks to do one insemination, so there's always a month off.)  I say a month 'off', but it hasn't been a party, that's for sure.  A sick and elderly father in hospital and a Hobson's choice to either wait for the chop or take voluntary redundancy now.  Hmm.  Never a dull moment.  Still, mustn't lose focus.  In the lead up to the penultimate round of my year long devotion to trying to get pregnant alone, I have finally given some thought to donor eggs.  Thought is as far as it will probably ever get.  For the sum of £5000, plus some extra cost for drugs, I can have a donor embryo package in Cyprus that includes donor eggs, IVF, accommodation while you're there, donor semen and drugs for the donor female.  I had a very informative email response to my enquiries from Dogus IVF Centre, Northern Cyprus (www.dogusivfcentre.com)  They match a female donor to your look and use the Danish sperm banks.  I have never really been sure how I feel about this, but with a success rate of  77% it is not to be dismissed.  Compare that with my current odds of 1-12% with donor insemination and my own eggs and it appears to be a no brainer.  There is just one problem...where to lay my hands on £5000 + quickly.  Not going to happen!

Therein lies the dilemma.  If I take voluntary redundancy I may get that sum, but, of course, I wouldn't have a job.  A job that's very flexible and a 15 minute commute with good maternity pay.  On the other hand I may be out of that job in a few months anyhow.  What, I ask, would you do, given the circumstances.  Answers on a postcard please...

Putting all this to one side in preparation for this round, I am getting aggressive and taking 100mg of Clomid per day instead of 50mg.  Dr Svend agrees.  God knows what this will achieve, but hopefully more than two big follicles, or just two extremely mature follicles.  I am a bit short financially this month, due to visiting said sick father (he lives far away), so I'm not having a follicular scan in the UK first this time.  Going to rely on the old pee sticks alone, testing from Day 7, just in case. Trying not to get my hopes up, but inevitably there is always hope before the insemination.  So, all being well, in about 7 days time I'll fly out for the last but one shot of Denmark's finest.

Finally, I received a questionnaire from Storkklinik asking me to complete it for their statistics and records when my baby is born in December.  Of course, I would have been 8 months pregnant now had my successful IUI in March continued past 6 weeks.  It was a little upsetting, but I suppose it just reminded me that I got pregnant on the third attempt so it's still possible now, isn't it?

A victim of progesterone

I consider myself someone who is not easily fooled.  I put this down to hard nosed realism - some would say negativity - and a feeling, lately, that this just can't go my way.  So, it came as some suprise that after my early and ridiculously faint positive hpt,  I found myself fully convinced that I was pregnant.  I had every symptom going and all of them matched my last two pregnancies.  I just felt pregnant, I really did, just as I had the two times I actually was pregnant. I was so convinced that I worked out a due date, revised my company's maternity policy and checked out what happens if you are made redundant during maternity leave (we're about to be made redundant in the next year).  In fact, so convinced was I, that I tested on Saturday, CD25, 15dpiui and a day earlier than I wanted to.  You can imagine my utter devastation when it was a very clear negative.  I don't know why, but it completely crushed me this time.  I was inconsolable and could barely make it out of the flat to go to the supermarket.  Every pregnant woman, every tiny child and baby with doting parents just seemed to be on the street or in the supermarket yesterday.  I was devastated.  I've been through this five times now, so you'd think I would find it easier. I suppose as D Day nears and my time has officially run out I am becoming more upset and distressed by the failures.

I wasted £10.99 on two early response tests, just so I could be sure before I stopped the progesterone and let the inevitable happen.  Of course, the test was negative.  If such an early response test is negative when it can pick up hcg as early as 6 days prior to your period, there was no denying it, I was most definitely not pregnant.  It made me realise that 3-4dpiui when I experienced those tell-tale symptoms of failure - that shivery feeling, a period kind of nausea and a period type of cramp - I was absolutely right to think it had failed.  How could I have been so fooled?  Well, it seems that even hard nosed realists can be swayed by progesterone.  Now I think back, as soon as it had been in my system for a few days, I started getting pregnancy symptoms and away went the 'failure' symptoms.  Of course they did, the progesterone had kicked in.  At 2 x 400mg per day was it any wonder?

I suppose given the positive double follicle scenario, the two very positive ultrasounds and the perfectly timed insemination, I just couldn't believe it hadn't worked on this first round with Clomid.  Well, it didn't.  And there we have it.  Good FSH, I ovulate on my own and produce mature follicles, but I guess it's time to face the fact that my eggs are just too past it now.  I may have been pregnant at 41 and 43 (four months ago), but now it seems it's just a bridge too far.

I'm still upset today and although I will complete two more cycles, making a total of seven in one year, I don't know how I'm going to drag myself through them.  This is when being single really sucks.  I won't even go in to the debilitating thoughts I had about my ex-partner and the very fertile, 20 something girlfriend he found after me, the horror of facing childlessness and my feelings of abject failure.  The truth is today and yesterday have not been good days.  I only wish I was the only one going through this because I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but I know that across the globe there will be women who know exactly what I'm talking about and exactly how I feel.  So my thoughts are with you.

The two week wait

I thought I'd get a bit scientific this time and sort of 'chart my symptoms' a bit more.  That will help my mental state, right enough.  I started off feeling the progesterone plummet only 3 days after insemination (3dpiui as those in the know call it). I got mightily pissed off.  I couldn't believe my body was doing this already, and when I was taking progesterone. About 5dpiui, however, that subsided to be replaced by nausea, a poking cramp in my abdomen and headaches that were verging on migraine.  They were terrible and lasted until 10dpiui.  I felt knackered too.  I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, things had turned around.  I recognised all of these symptoms from the last 2 pregnancies.  And then I dashed my own hopes because I also recognised these symptoms from the hundreds of forums I'd read about progesterone mimicking pregnancy symptoms.

I will confess that on CD21, or 11dpiui, I got so annoyed at these swinging symptoms that I just wanted it over and my period to hurry up.  So I took an htp/POAS/pregnancy test.  Of course it was negative so early, until I looked a bit closer and an extremely faint pinkish line could be seen.  I mean, if you held it up to the light it could be seen.  Not that I'm obsessing or anything. So that got my hopes up, although my negative voice was screaming 'its an evaporation line, you muppet.'   However, it didn't leave me any better off really.  I had one day of thinking I might be pregnant, I really might, and then I came home from work yesterday to feel the onset of cramps akin to period pains and horrid dull aches in my left ovary.  Back to square one.  Sore boobs getting more painful by the day, with veins like a road map?  Yes.  Lower back pain?  Yes.  Cramps? Yes.  Peeing frequently?  And so it goes.  I am driving myself absolutely mental, as no doubt you are too if you're up to the same thing.  Of course, all of the above are also signs of an impending red guest, as we know.  I find myself feeling that inner excitement one minute, but after every cramp I feel devastated because I know it's pms.

This is rubbish.  But...I am not going to test again until Sunday, which will be exactly 16 days after my IUI.  My period is actually due on Monday 17th, but no doubt because of the progesterone it won't come until I test negative and stop taking the drug. Oh the joy.  Every one around me is having a normal life (well it appears that way) while I'm waging a schizophrenic vocal battle in my head.  I need to keep remembering that there are no conclusions about symptoms, you just have to wait.  I should write this out, like lines.  You just have to wait...

Round 5 (or round 2 post miscarriage) and 28 degrees

So, arriving in Copenhagen without a sense of humour because I had to deal with Stansted at 5am, I find myself dive bombing into serious bad temper.  It's 28 degrees and I'm wearing a jumper.  To make matters worse that's all I have to wear so that I don't have to pay for luggage on the budget airline.  Not happy.  I make my way on the 5A to Lytgen and make it 30 minutes earlier than my appointment. I calm down once in the cool of the clinic and its clean design.

Dr. Svend appears to give me an ultrasound and confirms that one of my follicles has popped and the other is about to go.  Based on this, he says, I should be inseminated in 30 minutes after a shot of Ovitrelle (an extra 350 DKK or £38) to ensure the second one pops too.  I'm relieved.  As I'm whipping my trousers back on to wait while they do whatever it is they do to the sperm, Dr S says he's very impressed with the quality of my ultrasound report from the London Ultrasound Centre.  'I should think so', I replied, 'it cost £120 - practically half the cost of an insemination'  'You didn't get it on the NHS?', he queries.  'Er...no.'  Where to start?  If I explain why that wouldn't be possible, I might start ranting about being over 40, female, single and British.  And I'm wearing a jumper in 28 degrees.  So I don't.

After a 30 minute wait Dr Jan ushers me into a suite.  He's my favourite.  He's a very friendly, avuncular sort who doesn't make me feel like a muppet asking all the questions I usually bombard him with.  He greets me and then asks me if I'm happy with blond and blue as requested.  182cm this time.  I say yes and sign on the dotted line and up on the couch I go.  Not for the first time I consider just how truly bizarre this is.  A couple of minutes later it's done and off I go to enjoy the sweltering heat of Copenhagen, with a 'good luck' and 'take two progesterone suppositories per day from now on' ringing in my ears.

I got so bad tempered in the heat that I caved and bought some cheap clothes from H&M so that I could actually enjoy a bit of sightseeing.  After a spin around Nyhaven harbour, the shops and the castle grounds I made for my hotel in Orestad.  This time I chose Cabinn Metro and I wish I hadn't.  It really wasn't up to the standards of Wakeup and it was  located a metro ride away, by a huge shopping centre and nothing much else.  It was, however, only 485 DKK or £58.

The next day I sat by the river for ages in the heat and pondered my lot, whilst feeling yucky about the ooze that comes from using suppositories. I considered the fact that, if this round doesn't work, I have just two more shots (self imposed end - emotionally need to draw a line and well in to my 44th year).  As if to cheer me up a crazy man on an adapted cycle, complete with sound deck and sound system, cycled past pumping sounds and whooping. Everyone sitting on the wall and by the river whooped and joined in, including me.  I hope it was a good omen.

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...

Finally some answers

My GP referred me to another GP within the practice.  No further forward as she's away for another two weeks.  However, I rang the clinic in Denmark and they arranged for me to talk to Dr. Jan again. Relief. He discussed the Clomid according to my personal requirements, confirming 1 x 50mg a day from day 3-7.  He then advised progesterone after IUI because my cycle is short, and if Clomid delays my ovulation, the luteal phase won't be long enough.  2 x 400mg pessaries for 15 days to start with.  Again relief.  This what I want.  Facts and figures - how much, when and for how long.  I explained I'd been spotting a lot the last few months up to 5 days before my period and he agreed it's not quite right. Probably a corpus luteal defect (sounds like something legal) and even though it's only recently been a problem it's not a great sign. I think, being honest, I'm just heading into menopause quicker than I thought.  I think back and I realise that as soon as my cycles dropped to 24 days, as opposed to the 26-28 days I've had all my life, I started getting that weird low blood sugar feeling, nausea and shivers before my period.  It all makes sense now.

Dr. Jan suggested that I get a follicular scan on Day 8-9 in London to check the follicle size and potential ovulation, which will then help me figure out when to fly over to Copenhagen.  All I have to do is then call CFC (Copenhagen Fertility Centre) with the results and they will advise me when to go.   This cuts down the stress of worrying about exactly when my follciles are big enough before, during or after I get a positive ovulation test and how many days I will have to go to Denmark for -1 or 2. CFC will rescan me when I get there, before we go any further, and determine if I need Ovitrelle or not to 'pop' them or if I should do the IUI a day later. I've got the The London Ultrasound Centre and The Birth Company on speed dial. Here are the links. For £120, they scan, provide a report immediately, send any info you want to the clinic of your choice and require no referral.

http://www.thelondonultrasoundcentre.co.uk/follicle-tracking-scan/

http://www.thebirthcompany.co.uk/

It may be £120 per scan, but even if I add that to the IUI price at Copenhagen Fertility Centre it's still only a total of £400 per cycle, including the donor sperm.  No clinic in the UK can match that for the procedure and the sperm.  Even when I add on flights. Although, I've just found out about a great new clinic in Southampton called Complete Fertility Centre which is linked to the NHS. It's only been on the go since January 2010, but...it's only £900 per cycle including sperm!  Compare that to the whopping £1800-2000 per cycle in London clinics.  Unfortunately for me,  they won't treat women over 43.  What a shame!  Here's the link though, because if I was of a treatable age, I would definitely do it, just for the ease of staying in the UK and having start to finish fertility care.  I only wish I'd found out about it sooner.

http://www.completefertility.co.uk/index.php

I realise, sadly, that I really, really am nearing the end of my time, but at least I feel less stressed now with my last 2-3 goes.  I know what to do and that's half the battle. In mental preparation for a potentially childless future I've bought a book called 'Beyond Childlessness'.  It's really helpful actually. I need to prepare.  I  don't want to crumble into a heap and end up with 40 house cats and a slum for a house.  Let that not happen to me.  Repeat, let that not happen to me.

Roller coaster

It seems my will to live has decided to take off to Australia.  Not sure it's coming back, maybe just bought a one way ticket.  Hence the lack of blogging. You see, I thought it was game over before I started, as per my last post.  But then... Symptoms started to appear, exactly like those I had when I fell pregnant in March.  Weird indigestion, cramps that were poking rather than dragging in sensation.  And so I began to hope. It seemed that, in spite of the odds of having an IUI on the day of an LH surge as opposed to the recommended day after, I might have been lucky after all.  Around day 8-9 post IUI I was convinced I was pregnant.  So much so that I calculated a due date and trawled the 'trying to conceive' forums.  Well, it's usually me that warns you about those, so I only have myself to blame. 

I had all the symptoms. Fatigue, check.  Constipation, check.  Bloating, check.  Weird poking pains, check.  Just feeling pregnant, check. Veins like a road map on breasts, check. Overheating, check. So persuaded was I that I ignored the tell tale shivers on Day 11 and the odd, low blood sugar, shaky feeling that appeared momentarily.  I now recognise this as progesterone plummet and it's a sure sign that I am about to see the red devil.  I began to spot on Day 11 post IUI, but brown spotting, very light.  I was actually pleased, believing that this was implantation bleeding because my new cycle length, post miscarriage, was 32 days so it couldn't possibly be my period.  Perhaps the early ovulation on Day 9 of my cycle should have clued me into the fact that my body had reverted back to it's 24 day cycle. So, on Saturday 30th, on my 25th day, my period began.  I was absolutely floored.  Disappointment didn't cover it.  I actually felt grief.  Again.  This roller coaster of up and down - am I pregnant, am I not pregnant - it is utterly stressful.

And so here I am.  Exhausted, weary and skint.  Nothing new there then.  I can't do this again in August because the flights are too, too expensive last minute.  Next time I will take the Clomid and I will do it in late September.  As I am 44 in exactly one month's time,  time is slipping away faster than a speeding bullet and I am feeling very panicked.

I am still worried about the Clomid.  Will it thin my lining?  If my ovulation is pushed to Day 12 of my cycle won't my luteal phase be too short if my period is due on Day 25?  Should I take progesterone after the IUI?  If so how much, when and for how long?  I've made an appointment with my GP, but I'm sure he won't know the answers because he's not a gynaecologist.  Copenhagen Fertility Centre gave me the Clomid, but are not , it seems, really going to advise me beyond that.  The NHS won't refer me to a gynae.  I feel stressed out, to be quite frank.  Think I might just join my will to live in Australia.

However, let's see what my GP has to say tomorrow.  Perhaps it's time to get a little bolshy and demand some sort of help.  I may be over 40 and single, but I'm not asking for free assisted reproduction treatment, just some bloody help in asking what I should take to help myself.  Surely after paying tax for umpteen years, and after having major gynaecological surgery, that's not too much to ask?

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!