Showing posts with label PMA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PMA. Show all posts

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

Sunday, 3 February 2013

Let's twist again

So I've been in pain, real pain. The type of pain that makes all the colour drain from your face and you need to pant through it. The pain was so bad last night that I actually told the Hubster "I need to go to hospital." Queue blood draining from the Hubster's face, scary times - I don't think I'd realised up until that point how stressful all of this has been on my lovely Hubster. The flat may look like an upside down mess but who am I do have a go at him about that when let's face it - all of his energy has been put into making sure that I'm ok?

The day had started out so well as well, we were up at 8:30am getting ready to go to Kings for embryo transfer (ET). We were told to treat Saturday like ET day and if enough of our little mini-mes had made it to day three and were dividing evenly we could go for a day five (blastocyst) transfer. At 9:15am we got the call from the embryologist to say that 3/4 of our embryos were still going strong and were of a very high quality - we could go for Monday transfer - woo hoo! Absolutely buzzing, this is what I'd been praying for - I knew all my PMA was worth it - go, go, go mini-mes - we're willing you on!

This was the best I'd felt in days, I could actually put my new (stretchy) jeans on as the bloat had decreased and I guess the adrenalin rush had something to do with the feel good factor, so the Hubster and I went out for brunch. Whilst at brunch, my consultant called to check on my symptoms (as it was a Saturday I had the doctor call and not a nurse as usual). I told him I was actually up and out for the first time since Wednesday, the bloat had subsided somewhat but I still was nowhere near 100%. He asked about how much I was peeing and he seemed happy with that, but I'm still under close observation as symptoms of OHSS can fluctuate on an hourly basis. The previous day I had a very bad, sharp stabbing pain in the womb/ovary area, it lasted about 10 minutes then went thankfully. Apparently this is my ovary twisting - WTF?!?! Due to over stimulation my ovaries are very large, they sit independently on both sides of the womb. Sudden movement can make them twist - I had no idea about this. They normally twist back by themselves, if the pain stays, it's what's called an emergency and I'm to call the on-call gyno at Kings ASAP and head to A&E if necessary.

OK!!! I felt reassured to know what that pain was and glad my body had sorted it out by itself. Fast forward 12 hours and I look like a ghost, not communicating with the Hubster other than the odd grunt and pointing at whatever I needed - at that point I was demanding a fresh hot water bottle. It took 30 minutes for the pain to go last night and I was scared, really scared (but I didn't let on to the Hubster how scared I was). Having read the OHSS leaflet again that one of the nurses gave me on Wednesday I've now noticed the section on acute abdominal pain it says to call them immediately if I get it. I never really understood what acute pain was until I got OHSS; I've never felt pain like it - EVER, and I pray I don't feel it again.

After brunch we went to the in-laws, it was there my bloating suddenly came back, I had to undo my jeans and I started waddling again - my pee output had suddenly gone down as well so we rushed home (as much as a person in my condition can rush that is), I got back into bed (boooooo), inhaled some water and then I started peeling again - phew. It's now Sunday morning, the bloat is still there (and as big as ever) but my twisted ovary has twisted itself back - thank f**k for that. I have NEVER felt pain like it.

I've had some well meaning friends try to get me to "think myself better" which normally I am an advocate of but this is something totally different to a bug; do they not think that I have already been willing my body to stop doing what it's doing? My friends should know I'm a glass half full kinda girl so thinking my way out of this horrid condition is already on the agenda. If the power of thought alone was enough to stop my follicles from filling up with protein rich liquid, which then seeps out into my abdomen causing the massive bloat, I really would've kicked this OHSS by now but it ain't as simple as that. Telling me to think myself better is a bit like telling a 15 year old girl who has unwittingly found out she's pregnant (and she doesn't want to be), that she can think herself to not be pregnant! That shizzle doesn't happen! This isn't the lurgy, or a tummy bug or a fit of melodramatic depression, its an overreaction to the Gonal F, it is what it is and it will be gone soon enough; the best thing to do is for me to give-in to what's happening, relax, don't stress about it, drink oodles of liquid and rest, rest, rest. 

I know my friends mean well and if you're reading this and you're one of my well meaning friends who gave me the thinking advice please don't get upset with me, I know none of you want me to go through this and that your heart is in the right place. If you know me at all you'll know that I've read masses on this, I understand the condition and how dangerous it can be and I'm doing what the doctors are telling me to do. All my positivity is being channelled towards our mini-mes, willing them to stay strong and to develop into blastocysts. I finally stumbled across a blog that is as honest as my blog on OHSS - have a read - it really made me feel better and it might give you a better understanding of the excruciating pain that no amount of thought is able to combat; it made me realise that I'm not going mad imagining these symptoms - you just need to look at me to see something isn't right!

Bloated Jojo - not looking too happy about the situation (and most certainly not my most attractive photo but I thought I should share the love). This was taken yesterday (Saturday 2 February 2013) - I'm a bit bigger since then - the irony isn't lost on me that I look rather pregnant!




Despite all of this (and it appears that I have had a rather tough IVF experience so far) I am still in very good spirits. I may have had to jump through hoops with the NHS to get my treatment but you know what? I'm glad I had to jump through hoops as IVF is anything but a quick-fix, it's a long hard slog (physically and emotionally). This is expensive, hardcore, invasive treatment - they need to be certain only the right couples get the treatment.

I'm totally in awe of what the doctors do at Kings and I feel nothing but love for them. The NHS, despite its faults is a wonderful thing and I feel so lucky to be where I am, I am blessed to have my mini-mes dividing away in a petri dish in SE5, I'm a very lucky girl - I just need lady luck to be on my side from this day onwards. I just need one of my mini-mes to take up residence with me and we can get on with getting to know each other. It's gonna happen and I know I'll have some babies left over for another time; I can't possibly have endured all of this for it not to work (and I am banishing those seeds of doubt out of my head this very instant!) Knowing I have mini-mes in a petri dish in SE5 makes me very happy and excited. I know the OHSS is likely to get worse and possibly stay with me for weeks to come if I get pregnant but you know what? I don't care, whatever it takes as two want to become three. Tomorrow is blastocyst transfer day - excited doesn't come close :)

Catch ya later :) x