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.
Copenhagen January 2011
A cold November in Copenhagen...
Showing posts with label donor eggs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label donor eggs. Show all posts
Saturday, 25 February 2012
Sunday, 19 February 2012
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...
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...
Thursday, 19 January 2012
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!
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!
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
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.
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.
Monday, 12 December 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
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?
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?
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