Tuesday, 19 February 2013

What a difference a week makes

It's a week since I first realised that our first IVF cycle had ended with a nasty, heavy, heartbreaking period. In retrospect, not having the opportunity to use one of the eight pregnancy tests I'd bought compounded my woe. Life just isn't fair: FACT.

BUT there is a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

I won't lie, last week was hell on earth, I have no idea how I would've gotten through it if it wasn't for my wonderful Hubster. He really is my rock. I pretty much lost the power of speech and found myself only being able to speak to him or my bessie Emma. My bessie is expecting her first baby, we were all 200% convinced that our IVF cycle was going to work as I'm so healthy and our issues are with the Hubster; my bessie and I were soooooo excited about having our babies together and going on maternity leave together. I guess it just wasn't meant to be this time round.

My other wonderful friends have been persisting with the missed phonecalls and texts, I just haven't had the strength to speak to them. Texting, emailing even blogging are easier than actually speaking about it. Today is the first day since it happened that I haven't woken up with the choking, heavy hearted, suffocating feeling, and I finally felt strong enough to go back to work.

I am feeling angry though.

Very angry.

I'm angry at myself for truly believing I was pregnant when I obviously wasn't. I'm angry at myself for not listening to words of advice from friends who have also experienced IVF loss: the drugs screw with your body more than you realise. I'm angry at the doctor who pulled rank and did the transfer with the new, softer catheter - if the lovely Indian lady doctor had done the transfer as planned would my mini-me now be a permanent fixture? Who knows but what I do know is that this anger isn't going to do me any good so I'm dealing with it - anger turns to hate and I don't want to hate.

I've received so many lovely kind messages from all of my friends and I'm really glad that they weren't the type of messages that I didn't want to hear - apart from one. A friend who I had started to drift apart from replied to a text I sent the weekend prior to us finding out the IVF hadn't worked. I told her about my heartbreak and sorrow (it was very, very raw for me last Wednesday), given how I felt her response knocked me for six (and I'm still reeling from it). Having spent the day howling and knicker checking, feebly trying to cling on to my PMA - getting a message that said I shouldn't let it rip me apart, I need to chin up, this could take years and I should take up yoga and have a hot bath did not help. I'm not sure what she was thinking when she sent that message but there was zero empathy in that message, zero understanding about what grief is; in my opinion it's an illustration of why we have drifted apart as friends. How anyone can think that telling your (apparent) friend in her time of sorrow and heartbreak to chin-up, this might take years would be of any comfort is beyond me? Think it by all means but have the tact not to actually say it. Her response baffled me and I still can't work it out. IVF is much, much more than a few injections - it is a process where you put all of your eggs in one basket and when it fails, you can feel the hope being ripped out of you, and the pain is horrid. 

So - what next?

I went back to work today and my lovely colleagues kept me well stocked in tea, chocolate and giggles - just what the doctor ordered. Yesterday was the first day since it happened that I didn't cry, I did cry today - but only briefly. I'm starting to feel strong enough to face the world again and to contemplate what my Hubster and I will do next with regards to making a mini-me... Obviously we will try the traditional method :) We're both so healthy at the moment the Hubster's super swimmers may find their way to one of my eggs all by themselves - wouldn't that be amaze balls?!?! I'm back on the agnus castus to help encourage ovulation and to help get myself back on track asap - a batch of 30 pee sticks are winging their way to me so I'm ready and waiting to get tracking my cycle again. I'm going to throw myself into the gym - having stopped running to help with fertility issues two years ago I've decided that I need to start running again, it makes me feel amazing and I need all the endorphins I can get my hands on.

Our follow up is 14 March - I'm writing my questions down so I can make sure I know what we can do for our frozen embryo transfer (FET) cycle. I think this will be natural with a only a few HCG shots and progesterone pessaries so I guess it will be easier for us to handle? I want to know how many embryos they defrost at once? What if all of them are defrosted, they all survive and I can only put one back in - what happens with the rest? It seems every which way you turn with IVF you have more questions, questions, questions...

Till next time you lovely lot, to all of you who have left me kind, heart warming messages - thank you. Your love is helping me heal and although I didn't think it last week - positivity is the way forward - you've all helped me remember just how strong I am. To my wonderful friend Mel in Jersey - thank you for our delicious chocolate brownies - I can't wait to give you a big fat hug when I see you next week. All of your support has been phenomenal - you've made me feel strong when I've needed it most. And to my two other friends who have also had failed cycles pretty much within a week either side of my failed cycle - keep the faith - 2013 is our year.

Catch ya later :) x


  1. So glad to hear you're in positive spirits. I would have been baffled by that response too but it seems a lot of people are incapable of being emotionally supportive in times like this. Chin up is never a good response though, ever.

    I agree with you about hate and negativity but anger is a natural part of the grieving process. You can't avoid it but you can channel it. Work it into exercise, music or a creative outlet and don't let it lead you into hate.

  2. It's strange, have been positive in general but that doesn't stop the tears, they took me by surprise when I got home this evening. Despite being seriously chilly I walked to Blackfriars after work and then from Streatham home - it helps clear the head but I've now accepted that tears aren't finished yet - better out than in :)