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!
Copenhagen January 2011
A cold November in Copenhagen...
Showing posts with label donor insemination. Show all posts
Showing posts with label donor insemination. Show all posts
Thursday, 19 January 2012
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
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...
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...
Thursday, 7 July 2011
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!
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!
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Playing the waiting game
It's been four weeks since I had the miscarriage. As of last Thursday I am still showing a positive pregnancy test, so no chance of getting my period or ovulating anytime soon. I'm reminded that HCG levels have to go right back to zero, that's negative on a pregnancy test, before your body kick starts your cycle again. Apparently it can be anything from 3-6 weeks for the cycle to begin after a negative test. Great. All thoughts of an insemination in June are out then. Hmmm. And again, hmmm. Not that I'm panicking or anything. I just assumed my body would play the game immediately - it usually behaves, apart from the miscarriage of course. Never thought I'd see the day I would be begging my body to have a period.
So, while I wait I will go back to the donor. That wonderful Danish man who 'got' me pregnant. At Stork Klinik you are able to get some very basic details about your donor after you get pregnant if you sign a release form to say you've thought it all through. There is an argument for knowing nothing, I mean let's face it what good can a few details do you when you've selected an anonymous donor? But I wanted to know. I suppose I just felt that it would give me something to tell my child about his/her Danish heritage. I had only specified height must be over 6ft when I made my donor request originally, leaving everything else to chance. Don't ask me why height was important. I signed the release form and the information I received back by post was his blood type, height, eye colour, hair colour, weight, physical features and occupation. It was fascinating. Really. Me being me however, I did something I actually feel strangely guilty about, as if I've defrauded the clinic. I knew that Stork only use two sperm banks and both are detailed on their website. I went on the websites of both sperm banks and did a donor search, inputting my donor's blood type, physical details, occupation etc. I got a direct hit on one site for the donor, still registered as anonymous rather than open. Exact centimetres, exact blood type (and this was unusual), exact occupation, exact weight etc. I know it was a bit of a long shot, but it seemed impossible that it could be any other donor given the exact combination of details. The sperm bank said his sperm was sold out at that point, as it probably would be given that the clinic had purchased it recently. So I took a slight gamble and assumed this hit was my donor. I was able to find out a little bit more about him even though he remained anonymous on the sperm bank. The bank offered you a chance to buy a little more information in the form of an audio interview with the donor, let's call him A, an extended profile and a family history. I purchased both for about 25 Euros each. Two minutes later they were in my email inbox and downloaded. I was enthralled as I listened and read - all in English. Bizarrely, A's favourite films were my favourites, his personality sounded lovely, his voice was warm and friendly and his intelligence was obvious. Even better his family medical history revealed nothing worse than a bit of depression in the mix of relatives and my own family is no stranger to that. Yes, I was very happy with what I had discovered and needed no more information. I just wanted to know that my baby's donor was human really, if you know what I mean, rather than a shot of sperm in a catheter.
Not exactly crime of the century, but I did feel a bit of a cheat. But then, I did it anyway. I feel a little sad that the lovely A will undoubtedly not be my donor next time. I had to let Copenhagen Fertility Centre know my donor preferences for the future and I again selected height as being over 6 ft and added hair colour as either brown or blonde and any colour eyes. It made me think, was I selecting a man that might resemble my ex partner? Interesting. Yes, if height is anything to go by! However, when I got pregnant I didn't really care about any of the donor's details to start with, I was just so glad to be pregnant. If they had made an error and he had ended up being 5ft 4', I wouldn't have cared. Dr. J at Copenhagen Fertility Centre, told me 'you might as well specify height, eye colour and hair colour because otherwise I have to pick them and it speeds things up if you select.' Maybe if he hadn't said this I would have left it all up to fate this time. Or maybe I would have selected motility and youth if it had been possible! Given that most donors are under 28, however, that would probably be a bit daft. Oh yes, the next time a man over 40 gives you grief about being a woman over 40 trying to conceive, just remind him that a man's motility dive bombs in his thirties. As one male doctor once said to me, ' actually, the biggest cause of infertility in woman is often their men.'
I have no idea as I write this when I will next be able to have an insemination and I'm hoping that's a WHEN and not an IF, but I do know that when I am able to I absolutely will. Three more. For now. Before I hit 44 and throw myself off a tall building.
So, while I wait I will go back to the donor. That wonderful Danish man who 'got' me pregnant. At Stork Klinik you are able to get some very basic details about your donor after you get pregnant if you sign a release form to say you've thought it all through. There is an argument for knowing nothing, I mean let's face it what good can a few details do you when you've selected an anonymous donor? But I wanted to know. I suppose I just felt that it would give me something to tell my child about his/her Danish heritage. I had only specified height must be over 6ft when I made my donor request originally, leaving everything else to chance. Don't ask me why height was important. I signed the release form and the information I received back by post was his blood type, height, eye colour, hair colour, weight, physical features and occupation. It was fascinating. Really. Me being me however, I did something I actually feel strangely guilty about, as if I've defrauded the clinic. I knew that Stork only use two sperm banks and both are detailed on their website. I went on the websites of both sperm banks and did a donor search, inputting my donor's blood type, physical details, occupation etc. I got a direct hit on one site for the donor, still registered as anonymous rather than open. Exact centimetres, exact blood type (and this was unusual), exact occupation, exact weight etc. I know it was a bit of a long shot, but it seemed impossible that it could be any other donor given the exact combination of details. The sperm bank said his sperm was sold out at that point, as it probably would be given that the clinic had purchased it recently. So I took a slight gamble and assumed this hit was my donor. I was able to find out a little bit more about him even though he remained anonymous on the sperm bank. The bank offered you a chance to buy a little more information in the form of an audio interview with the donor, let's call him A, an extended profile and a family history. I purchased both for about 25 Euros each. Two minutes later they were in my email inbox and downloaded. I was enthralled as I listened and read - all in English. Bizarrely, A's favourite films were my favourites, his personality sounded lovely, his voice was warm and friendly and his intelligence was obvious. Even better his family medical history revealed nothing worse than a bit of depression in the mix of relatives and my own family is no stranger to that. Yes, I was very happy with what I had discovered and needed no more information. I just wanted to know that my baby's donor was human really, if you know what I mean, rather than a shot of sperm in a catheter.
Not exactly crime of the century, but I did feel a bit of a cheat. But then, I did it anyway. I feel a little sad that the lovely A will undoubtedly not be my donor next time. I had to let Copenhagen Fertility Centre know my donor preferences for the future and I again selected height as being over 6 ft and added hair colour as either brown or blonde and any colour eyes. It made me think, was I selecting a man that might resemble my ex partner? Interesting. Yes, if height is anything to go by! However, when I got pregnant I didn't really care about any of the donor's details to start with, I was just so glad to be pregnant. If they had made an error and he had ended up being 5ft 4', I wouldn't have cared. Dr. J at Copenhagen Fertility Centre, told me 'you might as well specify height, eye colour and hair colour because otherwise I have to pick them and it speeds things up if you select.' Maybe if he hadn't said this I would have left it all up to fate this time. Or maybe I would have selected motility and youth if it had been possible! Given that most donors are under 28, however, that would probably be a bit daft. Oh yes, the next time a man over 40 gives you grief about being a woman over 40 trying to conceive, just remind him that a man's motility dive bombs in his thirties. As one male doctor once said to me, ' actually, the biggest cause of infertility in woman is often their men.'
I have no idea as I write this when I will next be able to have an insemination and I'm hoping that's a WHEN and not an IF, but I do know that when I am able to I absolutely will. Three more. For now. Before I hit 44 and throw myself off a tall building.
Monday, 16 May 2011
Aftermath
Well, it's been 11 days since it all went horribly wrong. I've had my visit to the Emergency Gynaecology Unit to check what's happened has been 'complete'. When I arrived the nurse in Reception asked, 'Have you had any bleeding since your last visit?' I looked a little dumbstruck. Of course she wasn't to know that I'd already lost the baby, but it felt absolutely final replying 'Yes, I've had a full bleed, a full miscarriage. I'm only here to check it's all come out.' She looked unperturbed, used to dealing with countless women like me, but to give her her due she offered her condolences as she sent me off for a pee sample. Suddenly inside the loo, grappling with the cap of the sample bottle, I cried. Don't know where it came from, but I suppose it was just saying it out loud to somebody medical that made it final.
So, one scan later and I'm informed that everything is out. No D&C necessary, thank God. After last time (3 and 1/2 hours in surgery and a blood transfusion - they couldn't get around my multiple, large fibroids) I don't think I could have stood that again. The nurse then explained that I was still showing a positive pregnancy test and would have to wait until it had turned negative before I could count down to my next period and ovulation. She reckoned this would probably be in the first week of June, given my short cycle of 24 days, if I show a negative test by this week. I have pregnancy tests to check this. How ironic that this time I will be willing them to be negative.
I have almost, but not quite, made up my mind to try again straight away, but have this nagging feeling that my body's eggs may just be too past it and the Spanish clinics are right (see my very first post). However, I've arranged with the new clinic, Copenhagen Fertility Centre, to have the next insemination unmedicated. Partly because I will have no idea when I ovulate this time and may not get a proper period to aid me in counting the cycle days, so trying to match it all up with taking Clomid days 2-5 of the cycle would be a total nightmare. And partly because I'm chicken shit and want it to work without drugs!
I asked the nurse at the EGU how everything 'looked'. The nurse who scanned me said my endometrium was a healthy 8 mm just after the miscarriage, so this issue of a thin endometrium seems to be an issue no longer. In fact it was a good 26 mm when I was scanned before I miscarried, so all the signs say that I was worrying needlessly over this. The scanner told me there was no hint of an issue. I'll take this opportunity to mention that the lady who scanned me back in October 2010 told my GP that I would be wasting my money because my endometrium was too thin. Not so love, but thanks for making me worry for 6 months anyhow. The other good news was that my ovaries still have their follicles and my left ovary appears dominant with a very big follicle to boot. No idea what this means really, but probably explains the concentration of twinges, pokes, stabs and dull aches on that side when ovulating and when I got pregnant. Everything, it seems, is looking good, its just down to my eggs and the pot luck of sperm meeting egg during the one shot I get each month.
So there we are. Some of you tackling donor insemination after 40 might like to take a look at http://flowerpowermom.com/a-child-after-40-online/ It's a new site and she's looking for moderators. Her story was certainly helpful to me, giving renewed hope after this set back, so take a look if you're flagging.
I faithfully promise to devote the next post to the issue of the donor and the slightly sneaky way I got more info than the clinic offered. Investigative skills can be useful. In the mean time, I'm suffering the irritation of being checked out for anaemia and, scarily, insulin deficiency. I am quite shaky, excessively tired and feel a bit odd. I hope it's just a reaction to being pregnant and then not being pregnant because I really don't want to see the inside of any more medical facilities unless it's to be inseminated. Once I feel a bit healthier, I will be back to the exercise classes and I'm aiming to drop a few pounds. There's a whisper of a double chin creeping in and it's going to go if it kills me.
So, one scan later and I'm informed that everything is out. No D&C necessary, thank God. After last time (3 and 1/2 hours in surgery and a blood transfusion - they couldn't get around my multiple, large fibroids) I don't think I could have stood that again. The nurse then explained that I was still showing a positive pregnancy test and would have to wait until it had turned negative before I could count down to my next period and ovulation. She reckoned this would probably be in the first week of June, given my short cycle of 24 days, if I show a negative test by this week. I have pregnancy tests to check this. How ironic that this time I will be willing them to be negative.
I have almost, but not quite, made up my mind to try again straight away, but have this nagging feeling that my body's eggs may just be too past it and the Spanish clinics are right (see my very first post). However, I've arranged with the new clinic, Copenhagen Fertility Centre, to have the next insemination unmedicated. Partly because I will have no idea when I ovulate this time and may not get a proper period to aid me in counting the cycle days, so trying to match it all up with taking Clomid days 2-5 of the cycle would be a total nightmare. And partly because I'm chicken shit and want it to work without drugs!
I asked the nurse at the EGU how everything 'looked'. The nurse who scanned me said my endometrium was a healthy 8 mm just after the miscarriage, so this issue of a thin endometrium seems to be an issue no longer. In fact it was a good 26 mm when I was scanned before I miscarried, so all the signs say that I was worrying needlessly over this. The scanner told me there was no hint of an issue. I'll take this opportunity to mention that the lady who scanned me back in October 2010 told my GP that I would be wasting my money because my endometrium was too thin. Not so love, but thanks for making me worry for 6 months anyhow. The other good news was that my ovaries still have their follicles and my left ovary appears dominant with a very big follicle to boot. No idea what this means really, but probably explains the concentration of twinges, pokes, stabs and dull aches on that side when ovulating and when I got pregnant. Everything, it seems, is looking good, its just down to my eggs and the pot luck of sperm meeting egg during the one shot I get each month.
So there we are. Some of you tackling donor insemination after 40 might like to take a look at http://flowerpowermom.com/a-child-after-40-online/ It's a new site and she's looking for moderators. Her story was certainly helpful to me, giving renewed hope after this set back, so take a look if you're flagging.
I faithfully promise to devote the next post to the issue of the donor and the slightly sneaky way I got more info than the clinic offered. Investigative skills can be useful. In the mean time, I'm suffering the irritation of being checked out for anaemia and, scarily, insulin deficiency. I am quite shaky, excessively tired and feel a bit odd. I hope it's just a reaction to being pregnant and then not being pregnant because I really don't want to see the inside of any more medical facilities unless it's to be inseminated. Once I feel a bit healthier, I will be back to the exercise classes and I'm aiming to drop a few pounds. There's a whisper of a double chin creeping in and it's going to go if it kills me.
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
Third time lucky
Looks like I won't be needing a visit to that new clinic I sized up, nor will I have to take the proposed Clomid after all. I almost can't believe I'm able to write this but... I am pregnant. In terms of the internet's best due date calculator I am 4 weeks pregnant to be precise. I can't quite get my head around it and am still dashing to the loo every ten minutes expecting to see the red visitor.
Around 8 days after the insemination, I knew. There were only two tell tale signs that were markedly different, given that all cramps, bloating and twangs could be either pms or pregnancy. The first was this... Normally, 7 days before my period I have extremely intense irritation and snap at the slightest thing. I describe it as a kind of tummy flip. I don't appear to have any control over it and when I think back to all my terrible arguments with my last boyfriend, each one was right before my period. Including our ultimate one. So when I was 5 days away from my period and felt serenely calm I knew something was definitely going on. The second thing was a total lack of sore boobs. Again, these normally kick in around 7 days before my period. I must have looked like a crazy woman, constantly tapping and touching them for signs of soreness, oblivious to the public. There are names for people who do that. 3 days before my period I could feel them just beginning to ache, but in a different place. I cried for a whole day as I'd been so convinced that I was pregnant, I couldn't believe it had just been a delayed period. Just out of sheer bloody mindedness and spite I took a test the next day and I was completely floored by the very faint line that popped up next to the control line.
I took another the next day and another the next, both faint positives. I was convinced that I had an ectopic or non-viable pregnancy as the lines were so faint. Why in God's name are my HCG levels not rising? So I waited another three days, driving my self and my friend, D, truly mental by reading forum after forum.
Finally I tested on Monday, 3 days after my period was due and there it was - a dark line, not quite as dark as the test line, but clear and bold, appearing in 10 seconds.
You'd think that I would be ecstatic immediately, wouldn't you? And let me tell you I really, really am. But. And here's the truth. I am now overly aware of (read completely obsessed by) every little cramp, pain and twang and am STILL driving myself loopy. Is it ectopic? It's bound to be. How could it attach to my thin endometrium? What if it has attached to the scars where my fibroids were removed? It won't make it. I'm 43; the miscarriage rate is 50%. It's inevitable. Aaaaahhhhhh!
Fortunately, for everyone concerned, I have calmed down a bit and have booked myself an appointment with my GP to get myself in the system. Finally some professional care that doesn't cost me a mortgage payment. He can check out my ectopic fear in a couple of weeks and monitor any weird pains, which I seem to have a lot of.
Now, lots of women want to know what you did differently when you are finally successful and I did a few things that may have made a difference. I will tell all in my next post. For now, I'm still reeling, hoping that I maintain this much wanted mini-baby and terrified about, well everything really.
So my parting words for this post? If a 43 year old woman with a recent late miscarriage, followed by a full on open abdominal myomectomy, leaving a thin, irregular and scarred endometrium can get pregnant by donor insemination and without ANY fertility drugs, then so can you. It really is not over till that fat lady sings.
Around 8 days after the insemination, I knew. There were only two tell tale signs that were markedly different, given that all cramps, bloating and twangs could be either pms or pregnancy. The first was this... Normally, 7 days before my period I have extremely intense irritation and snap at the slightest thing. I describe it as a kind of tummy flip. I don't appear to have any control over it and when I think back to all my terrible arguments with my last boyfriend, each one was right before my period. Including our ultimate one. So when I was 5 days away from my period and felt serenely calm I knew something was definitely going on. The second thing was a total lack of sore boobs. Again, these normally kick in around 7 days before my period. I must have looked like a crazy woman, constantly tapping and touching them for signs of soreness, oblivious to the public. There are names for people who do that. 3 days before my period I could feel them just beginning to ache, but in a different place. I cried for a whole day as I'd been so convinced that I was pregnant, I couldn't believe it had just been a delayed period. Just out of sheer bloody mindedness and spite I took a test the next day and I was completely floored by the very faint line that popped up next to the control line.
I took another the next day and another the next, both faint positives. I was convinced that I had an ectopic or non-viable pregnancy as the lines were so faint. Why in God's name are my HCG levels not rising? So I waited another three days, driving my self and my friend, D, truly mental by reading forum after forum.
Finally I tested on Monday, 3 days after my period was due and there it was - a dark line, not quite as dark as the test line, but clear and bold, appearing in 10 seconds.
You'd think that I would be ecstatic immediately, wouldn't you? And let me tell you I really, really am. But. And here's the truth. I am now overly aware of (read completely obsessed by) every little cramp, pain and twang and am STILL driving myself loopy. Is it ectopic? It's bound to be. How could it attach to my thin endometrium? What if it has attached to the scars where my fibroids were removed? It won't make it. I'm 43; the miscarriage rate is 50%. It's inevitable. Aaaaahhhhhh!
Fortunately, for everyone concerned, I have calmed down a bit and have booked myself an appointment with my GP to get myself in the system. Finally some professional care that doesn't cost me a mortgage payment. He can check out my ectopic fear in a couple of weeks and monitor any weird pains, which I seem to have a lot of.
Now, lots of women want to know what you did differently when you are finally successful and I did a few things that may have made a difference. I will tell all in my next post. For now, I'm still reeling, hoping that I maintain this much wanted mini-baby and terrified about, well everything really.
So my parting words for this post? If a 43 year old woman with a recent late miscarriage, followed by a full on open abdominal myomectomy, leaving a thin, irregular and scarred endometrium can get pregnant by donor insemination and without ANY fertility drugs, then so can you. It really is not over till that fat lady sings.
Sunday, 20 March 2011
Anything but a month off
Well, this was supposed to be a stress free month off to build up enough finance for more donor insemination and to try out fertility acupuncture. I did put away some money and I did try the acupuncture - two sessions so far. I have no earthly idea whether or not it has worked, or will work, but I'm due another session next week just after my period begins. It's a weird sensation being a pincushion; I had a strange electric shock like feeling in my right leg, almost as if the nerves were being woken up and a dull ache around the other points. Once the needles were in the sensations calmed down. My acupuncturist has worked specifically with fertility and had lots of advice to impart - nettle tea, Royal Jelly and Omega 3 were just some of the things she suggested . If nothing else, it's been informative. I did feel very relaxed afterwards, however that feeling was soon obliterated thanks to a recall to the Breast Cancer Unit. A few months ago I experienced pains in my breast and went to my GP who referred me to the hospital. Best to check it out. He's a good sort my GP. That visit resulted in a mammogram and I thought that would be the end of it. Of course not! I had to go back to check out two masses they'd found. Cue ultrasound, biopsy and disbelief. How much bad luck can a person have in two years? I won't go into detail, but my second trimester miscarriage and relationship breakup were just two of a string of bad things that I experienced, quite literally, one after another. I must be a reincarnation of somebody really, really evil for this level of bad luck to continue. A relentless stream of rubbish. It's bloody hard to stay positive and after a while you just get numb. When the next bad thing occurs you feel nothing, but possibly a bit of 'here we go again'. I can accept it when I've had a hand in my own bad luck, but bereavement, miscarriage and illness kind of get slung at you. My results will be back this week. If it's good news I can proceed with insemination number 3. Or to be more precise I can proceed to round 3 if I ovulate on payday or the day before. If it's two days before, I'll be going nowhere. And...if it's not good news I have absolutely no idea what I will do, but it will mean a final goodbye to any baby hopes.
So I wait. Not really stress free or relaxed now and wondering whether I should just give up. Friends are popping babies out left, right and centre, all with doting partners in tow. I am pleased for them, but I fully admit that it makes me feel crap. I can't help but wonder if, at 43, I am a total lost cause, regular ovulation and good FSH aside. Surely, the Universe is trying to tell me something. Something like 'Get over it, you are not going to be a mother and you will be on your own for the rest of your life, short or otherwise.' Possibly very true. Then I think about Japan. I'm not homeless, not freezing to death and not about to be infected by radiation. So yes, I should get over it.
So I wait. Not really stress free or relaxed now and wondering whether I should just give up. Friends are popping babies out left, right and centre, all with doting partners in tow. I am pleased for them, but I fully admit that it makes me feel crap. I can't help but wonder if, at 43, I am a total lost cause, regular ovulation and good FSH aside. Surely, the Universe is trying to tell me something. Something like 'Get over it, you are not going to be a mother and you will be on your own for the rest of your life, short or otherwise.' Possibly very true. Then I think about Japan. I'm not homeless, not freezing to death and not about to be infected by radiation. So yes, I should get over it.
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Three countries in one day
My Grandmother, God rest her soul, would have called me plain crazy. In an effort to save money, I spent Thursday 10 February in London Heathrow, Copenhagen and Frankfurt. My heels barely touched the ground in either country and my planes home were, of course, delayed. Knackered didn't cover it. I had thirty minutes peace laying on the insemination couch for my required 'chill-out' time, but apart from that it was an 18 hour day of rushing and pure exhaustion.
I had lots to worry about when I called the clinic and left an answerphone message on the evening of the 9th. Would they get the message, would they book me a slot, would there actually be a slot after I paid for my ridiculously expensive flights? I arrived at Heathrow at 8am and called the clinic, 9am their time. No need to worry. They'd booked me a slot exactly one hour after I landed to ensure I could make the appointment and in case of minor delays. Panic over. The problem with doing this overseas is that if you are more than 70 minutes late for your slot, the washed sperm sample is useless and you still have to pay for it. Nightmare. Still Scandinavian Airlines has punctuality as its strapline and they weren't wrong. I can only imagine if I had used BA -late, delayed, cancelled. I arrived with time for an earl grey tea and a healthy sandwich in my favourite little Baresso coffee shop, at the end of the clinic's street. A deep breath in and a smile on my face, off I went for round 2.
This time it was quite uncomfortable, but not exactly painful. I had a different midwife, but she was just as nice and encouraging as the last one. They take their time with you and create a mood of relaxation. I worried it would be like the dreaded smear test, which I absolutely hate, but it's nothing like that. That is Hell, this is ok. She didn't rubbish my feelings about how I thought I might have conceived last time and she was supportive about how to manage the two weeks wait. We talked about hormone treatment versus natural cycle and agreed that for me, with my stats, natural is still the best way forward for the first few times.
Once cocooned on my Lufthansa flight to Germany (delayed) I felt a bit sore and crampy, but otherwise fine. I was delighted to get a free snack and drink, meaning no need to change money to stop starvation in Frankfurt. It occurred to me as I caught flight number 3 back to London (delayed), that I was less excitable and calmer than last time. As always, my thoughts turned to my previous partner and how much I miss him. He is now in love with someone else, a girl 13 years younger than both of us. It hurts terribly when I realise that he will have a family with her, naturally and with ease, especially as we lost our baby. I do torture myself with this daily, but this is my path now and I can only move forward. When I'm tired and a bit emotional this is very hard to do, but in true British style I have a nice cup of tea and think of a gorgeous little baby in my arms, half Danish, half Scottish. Hope is a wonderful drug.
I had lots to worry about when I called the clinic and left an answerphone message on the evening of the 9th. Would they get the message, would they book me a slot, would there actually be a slot after I paid for my ridiculously expensive flights? I arrived at Heathrow at 8am and called the clinic, 9am their time. No need to worry. They'd booked me a slot exactly one hour after I landed to ensure I could make the appointment and in case of minor delays. Panic over. The problem with doing this overseas is that if you are more than 70 minutes late for your slot, the washed sperm sample is useless and you still have to pay for it. Nightmare. Still Scandinavian Airlines has punctuality as its strapline and they weren't wrong. I can only imagine if I had used BA -late, delayed, cancelled. I arrived with time for an earl grey tea and a healthy sandwich in my favourite little Baresso coffee shop, at the end of the clinic's street. A deep breath in and a smile on my face, off I went for round 2.
This time it was quite uncomfortable, but not exactly painful. I had a different midwife, but she was just as nice and encouraging as the last one. They take their time with you and create a mood of relaxation. I worried it would be like the dreaded smear test, which I absolutely hate, but it's nothing like that. That is Hell, this is ok. She didn't rubbish my feelings about how I thought I might have conceived last time and she was supportive about how to manage the two weeks wait. We talked about hormone treatment versus natural cycle and agreed that for me, with my stats, natural is still the best way forward for the first few times.
Once cocooned on my Lufthansa flight to Germany (delayed) I felt a bit sore and crampy, but otherwise fine. I was delighted to get a free snack and drink, meaning no need to change money to stop starvation in Frankfurt. It occurred to me as I caught flight number 3 back to London (delayed), that I was less excitable and calmer than last time. As always, my thoughts turned to my previous partner and how much I miss him. He is now in love with someone else, a girl 13 years younger than both of us. It hurts terribly when I realise that he will have a family with her, naturally and with ease, especially as we lost our baby. I do torture myself with this daily, but this is my path now and I can only move forward. When I'm tired and a bit emotional this is very hard to do, but in true British style I have a nice cup of tea and think of a gorgeous little baby in my arms, half Danish, half Scottish. Hope is a wonderful drug.
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Donor insemination and the single girl in the UK - A reality check!
Step One - The Decision to Go It Alone
You've done your research (American based blogs, forums and websites), read books from women who've done it already (all American it seems) and you've reached a decision to proceed. Bravo! I'm with you, I'm doing it too. However, you'll quickly realise, if you live in the UK, it's after this incredibly difficult decision that it all becomes very, very complicated. Let me explain. There are three things I learned about choosing single motherhood in the UK; forget it, find a man or be loaded.
Step two - The NHS
The UK is not a great place for single women looking to be mothers. Firstly, there is the question of the NHS. The rule here is that if you're single, over 39 and female you will not be treated with donor insemination. I think I'm right in saying that even if you're under 39 this is true, although you may be eligible for IVF as long as you have a known sperm donor e.g. husband, partner or someone willing. Save yourself lots of heartache and don't go through the rigmarole of trying. Although I'm told that attitudes are changing, it will be a long time yet before these changes reach the NHS and single woman over 39 will be given any kind of fertility treatment on the NHS. The HFEA is the body that regulates donor insemination and clinics must consider the 'father's role' in the treatment. In essence, although it is not quite put this way, the underlying tone is that if you're single, morally, the NHS cannot treat you.
Step Three - Private Clinics
So to the next step. I looked into private clinics. The good news is that there are a fair few private clinics that will treat you as a single women, and if you're over 40. The London Women's Clinic is amongst these - it gets a good rap - and there are many outside London too. The bad news is that women will have to stump up cash to the tune of £1,800 + per cycle. Yes, that's PER cycle. I don't know about you, but as a woman on a normal salary (and mine is by no means bad) this is just not a possibility. If you're in a couple it is probably about do-able, but on your own? Doubtful, very, very doubtful. So, what next?
Step Four - That Ex and My Gay Mate
Well, you can always see if that ex you're still friendly with is up for the challenge of co-parenting, but first think about the reality of this. A good book that outlines the pitfalls of this is 'Knock Yourself Up' by Louise Sloan. Yes, it's American so some parts just don't apply to us in the UK, but she does have very valid points to make about this consideration. I did have an offer, but we both knew it was a fantasy. Reality bites; none harder than tying yourself to someone with slightly different views on life from you. Think about it. The same applies to your gay friend. For some people it really works out and it is important above all else to have a father, albeit one that doesn't quite fit. This is something you really need to think seriously about. I did and I decided it was a NO. So now what?
Step Five - The Future is Danish
I did my research and Spain seemed a pretty good bet. It's the place the GP's recommend and it isn't prohibitively expensive. I even booked a consultation with a clinic in Barcelona at the Fertility Fair in Earl's Court. Except for one thing...donor insemination without fertility treatment, or rather with a natural cycle, seems out of the question for women over 40. That's the message I got - you can't use your own eggs after 40. Having been pregnant at 41 with one try and once at 25, again with one try, (long story as to why neither went to term - one for another blog) I had my bloods done by my GP to see if I was still a viable prospect for natural cycle insemination. The results? Good hormones, good level of potential fertility, good tubes etc etc. No need for Clomid. OK then, so which country will inseminate me without fertility 'extras'? The answer is Denmark. Several good clinics that treat single women and lesbians exist there. Simple, inexpensive, compassionate and run my midwives who understand a thing or two about women. And you get to go to Copenhagen. I picked a clinic - I chose Stork Klinik- sent off my 'tests' proving I was clean of all the usual nasties and bingo! A consultation after 3 weeks with an insemination booked for the next ovulation and a fee of £470 for one anonymous shot of Danish sperm. Simple. Or is it...
Next blog will talk you through my consultation and what to expect.
Till then.
You've done your research (American based blogs, forums and websites), read books from women who've done it already (all American it seems) and you've reached a decision to proceed. Bravo! I'm with you, I'm doing it too. However, you'll quickly realise, if you live in the UK, it's after this incredibly difficult decision that it all becomes very, very complicated. Let me explain. There are three things I learned about choosing single motherhood in the UK; forget it, find a man or be loaded.
Step two - The NHS
The UK is not a great place for single women looking to be mothers. Firstly, there is the question of the NHS. The rule here is that if you're single, over 39 and female you will not be treated with donor insemination. I think I'm right in saying that even if you're under 39 this is true, although you may be eligible for IVF as long as you have a known sperm donor e.g. husband, partner or someone willing. Save yourself lots of heartache and don't go through the rigmarole of trying. Although I'm told that attitudes are changing, it will be a long time yet before these changes reach the NHS and single woman over 39 will be given any kind of fertility treatment on the NHS. The HFEA is the body that regulates donor insemination and clinics must consider the 'father's role' in the treatment. In essence, although it is not quite put this way, the underlying tone is that if you're single, morally, the NHS cannot treat you.
Step Three - Private Clinics
So to the next step. I looked into private clinics. The good news is that there are a fair few private clinics that will treat you as a single women, and if you're over 40. The London Women's Clinic is amongst these - it gets a good rap - and there are many outside London too. The bad news is that women will have to stump up cash to the tune of £1,800 + per cycle. Yes, that's PER cycle. I don't know about you, but as a woman on a normal salary (and mine is by no means bad) this is just not a possibility. If you're in a couple it is probably about do-able, but on your own? Doubtful, very, very doubtful. So, what next?
Step Four - That Ex and My Gay Mate
Well, you can always see if that ex you're still friendly with is up for the challenge of co-parenting, but first think about the reality of this. A good book that outlines the pitfalls of this is 'Knock Yourself Up' by Louise Sloan. Yes, it's American so some parts just don't apply to us in the UK, but she does have very valid points to make about this consideration. I did have an offer, but we both knew it was a fantasy. Reality bites; none harder than tying yourself to someone with slightly different views on life from you. Think about it. The same applies to your gay friend. For some people it really works out and it is important above all else to have a father, albeit one that doesn't quite fit. This is something you really need to think seriously about. I did and I decided it was a NO. So now what?
Step Five - The Future is Danish
I did my research and Spain seemed a pretty good bet. It's the place the GP's recommend and it isn't prohibitively expensive. I even booked a consultation with a clinic in Barcelona at the Fertility Fair in Earl's Court. Except for one thing...donor insemination without fertility treatment, or rather with a natural cycle, seems out of the question for women over 40. That's the message I got - you can't use your own eggs after 40. Having been pregnant at 41 with one try and once at 25, again with one try, (long story as to why neither went to term - one for another blog) I had my bloods done by my GP to see if I was still a viable prospect for natural cycle insemination. The results? Good hormones, good level of potential fertility, good tubes etc etc. No need for Clomid. OK then, so which country will inseminate me without fertility 'extras'? The answer is Denmark. Several good clinics that treat single women and lesbians exist there. Simple, inexpensive, compassionate and run my midwives who understand a thing or two about women. And you get to go to Copenhagen. I picked a clinic - I chose Stork Klinik- sent off my 'tests' proving I was clean of all the usual nasties and bingo! A consultation after 3 weeks with an insemination booked for the next ovulation and a fee of £470 for one anonymous shot of Danish sperm. Simple. Or is it...
Next blog will talk you through my consultation and what to expect.
Till then.
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