One day till down regulation
Tonight I shall drink a glass of red wine or two or three.
Tonight I shall scoff loads of seriously yummy food and not care if I'm eating more carbs as opposed to protein.
Tonight I'm going to try and remember what the Hubster and I were like before before we embarked on our journey to the land of IF.
Tonight I am going to sleep like a baby in my bed and wrap myself around my duvet in the knowledge that I'm not going to overheat.
Tonight I shall be headache free.
Tonight I'm not going to be anxious.
Tonight I'm not going to flap or fret about the next seven or so weeks.
Tonight I am re-reading my blog entries from earlier this year with a slight sense of trepidation.
Tonight I am relishing an injection free night as tomorrow night marks day one of down regulation - BRING IT ON!!!
The Hubster and I finally had our joint counselling session last week and unlike the ones I have been to by myself this one really choked me up. Going for counselling at the assisted conception unit seems a bit wrong to me - that place is full of baby-related stuff: scans, nurses, hospital gowns, swimmer collection rooms, egg collection theatres, embryo transfers and its where our mini-mes are frozen - it's just so RAW. The counsellor there is lovely, I really clicked with her and so did my Hubster. What caught me off guard and stunted my speech was being asked "when did you lose your baby?" Wow. To finally have someone speak to me so honestly with the acknowledgement that yes - I lost my baby... and no, I'm not over it which made both the Hubster and I think: WHAT THE HELL ARE WE DOING?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY are we doing this again so bloody quickly when both of us are blatantly not ready for it? I have been warned, if this cycle doesn't work then not only will I be dealing with the three and half years of trying and not conceiving, but also the loss of our baby in February and then the loss of not one but two mini-mes. Seriously, we must be off our rockers? If this doesn't work then I don't know if I'll ever find the old me again, I'm not sure I'll be able to fix us (but I don't have choice really do I?)
BUT I can give you the answer to my questions: we want more than anything to be pregnant, we want to me a Mummy and Daddy and we know we will be bloody brilliant parents. All my fear is quashed under our teeny 20% chance of becoming pregnant. I've decided not to listen to the statistics - I was told I had a 60-70% chance of success on our last cycle and it didn't work so in my head - with two mini-mes being transferred we have just as much chance as anyone. I don't tend to take the easy path with anything so why should this be any different?
So from tomorrow onwards we're back to the injections, I'm off to see Elise (who I am sticking with - it's not practise in the counselling world to have more than one counsellor but I didn't want us to miss our joint appointment at Kings), I'm 100% off the booze, I'm back to listening to my IVF belief CD and I'm waiting for the side affects to kick-in. They took about four days last time round, I have one of my best friend's hen-do this weekend, that is on day five... I'm anxious about being teary, having hot flushes, getting headaches and just not wanting to be there, I'm anxious about watching all my friends get hammered whilst I stay sober - thank goodness for my Bessie being pregnant - both of us are (or were) THE party starters - oh how times have changed! I'm still funny in big groups where you are supposed to be having fun so I'm a bit worried about Saturday - I don't think I'll be my usual up-for-it self but I'll sure as hell give it a go. It'll be my first sober hen-do so we'll see how my stamina goes, it'll be good prep for the wedding as this will be around embryo transfer time - I do pick my moments hey?!
So that's it from me for tonight - I'm going to enjoy my last injection free evening for a good while - let the positive vibes commence, may the chemical menopause symptoms be gentle on me and may all my worry about my heart shattering into a million pieces again be put to rest. From this day onwards for our second cycle - PMA will prevail.
Catch ya later :) x
Showing posts with label frozen embryos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frozen embryos. Show all posts
Monday, 8 April 2013
Saturday, 30 March 2013
Where's your head at?
Well I'm back, after a six week break from blogging; not only are the Hubster and I back on the quest to make a mini-me, but I feel like my head is almost back in the room (but even I'm the first to admit I have my moments - this week was challenging to say the least. I blame the crazy Libra full-moon for some strange goings-on but not everyone agrees with my belief that the moon can do strange things to people).
Pregnancy loss is not nice; not having something tangible to grieve over means that some people think you recover quickly and also find it hard to fully understand what you're feeling. What's more after embryo transfer you are considered PREGNANT UNTIL PROVEN OTHERWISE (PUPO). You have a personal responsibility to treat your blastocyst as an implanted, developing embryo - you have a responsibility to behave like you're pregnant and this isn't an issue as you want it so much. What is shockingly hard is coming to terms with is NOT being pregnant.
I've been devouring a great book called Navigating the Land of IF (IF is the online acronym for infertility - infertility is full of acronyms - it takes a while to learn them all) by Melissa Ford. The way she writes really appeals to me; she says it how it is and I think this is a vital read for all of you who have found yourself on the Land of IF and if you have friends who are going through it then I also recommend you have a read - you'll soon discover those tit-bits of advice you give with good intentions normally have the opposite affect. EG: saying "I can feel it in my bones, this cycle is going to work for you" doesn't help - all we can do is hope, how your bones feel has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I'll conceive (and how were your bones feeling during my failed cycle? Could you feel my cycle not working then or did your bones give off the wrong signal? You can see the futility of such a comment now I bet?) Anyhow - she describes exactly how invested a couple are in IVF, both emotionally and financially - so much so that I want to show you an excerpt from her book where she explains the financial point to non-iffers (non-iffers are those of you who are fertile and live on the mainland). I think the financial point also illustrates quite clearly the emotional investment as well:
It seems like a lifetime ago that I was howling, I entered a very dark place, so dark in fact that rather than wait for my one counselling session provided by the NHS (which I am still waiting for) I took matters into my own hands and am now paying to see a "head doctor." My head doctor - Elise is registered with the British Infertility and Counselling Association (BICA) - this is why I chose her. During my dark place (which I still have half a foot in) I started to have panic attacks, I've managed to reign most of them in with controlled breathing and just stopping whatever it is that I'm doing and having some rescue remedy but anything can set me off: not being able to find my keys in the morning, going to a party where I'll need to speak to people who will ask me "what've you been up to Jojo?" As you might've guessed I'm quite an open person, I'm also a shocking liar so any attempt at telling a fib and I go a particular shade of crimson and get the sweats... I also can't bear not being in control, I hate not knowing what I am doing when and what is expected of me, it makes me feel uneasy - I've always been like this to some extent, I'm just a little worse nowadays - I find this very disconcerting. I've always known I'm a control freak when it comes to certain things but our recent IVF loss has exacerbated my typical feelings of insecurity. Normally I can reign these feelings in but even telling you all about this anxiety is making my heart rate increase, I then internally chastise myself for being silly and then of course - the anxiety gets worse - it's a vicious circle so you can understand why I had to do something about these feelings hey?
Gone is the vivacious, chatty, confident Jojo of old, replace her with a timid, tongue tied, hand twisting angry little girl. That's what our failed IVF cycle did to my head. At a very good friend's birthday party less than two weeks since it all went wrong a well meaning friend who has a wonderful little boy as a result of IVF insisted on talking to me about IVF, and she just wouldn't shut up. She was like a wood-pecker who kept peck, peck, pecking. Despite telling her three times to stop and my wonderful sister-in-law telling her to stop she just wouldn't let it go until on the third time I told her I was visibly in pain and on the verge of tears. Apparently I need to go to Spain as the clinics are sh*t here - no they're not, they're amazing and they've already made us five mini-mes, one of them just didn't fancy sticking. I was a mixture of angry, intimidated, shy and all I wanted was to say beam me up Scotty and to find myself in my PJs, tucked up nice and safely in bed. Instead I found myself sobbing in the loo feeling too timid to come out and have fun. Party animal Jojo was no more, I just wanted to curl up and cry - someone who has been through IVF should know full well that your first public outing after a failed cycle is quite a big deal and one where compassion and love is needed; it's not an opportunity to dissect your failed cycle.
So, I've taken back some control and I'm getting some help dealing with how I feel - I've worked out the hard way that infertility is a tough island to find yourself on, I knew it was a tough place to be before I landed on the island of IF, but I never really understood what it was like. Everything is out of your control and for a control freak it's a rather tricky thing to get your head around. So I'm taking control of my emotions by going to counselling. Being in control is something that is central to my feeling ok - my counsellor and I have worked this out together quite quickly so she's helping me control my emotions and to find an outlet for them. Sudden bursts of anger and frustration can hit me without any warning and some things really annoy me (more than usual) - I'm working on managing these outbursts! She's also advised me to take control of aspects of my life that are 100% in my hands and the main thing that has been a source of stress is debt and my finances.
I'm taking control of my finances by clearing my debt and I'm a heartbeat from being debt free for the first time in my adult life. I can't tell you how amazing that feels; debt is BAD for the soul and it really annoys me how socially acceptable it is nowadays to be up to your eyeballs in debt, we all blame the bankers for the state of the economy but is it the bankers' fault that a lot of us have whacking great big overdrafts and several credit cards maxed out? No it's our own greed and inability to budget and save - it's not big and it's not clever, in fact it's stupid. I know the economy is up the creak without a paddle but it's about time we all started to take responsibility for our situations and take control of our expenditure, if you spent the money then it's your own fault (it took me a good while to learn that - in fact it's taken the majority of my adult life to work that conundrum out). I hate seeing all of my salary go on paying back creditors and I can't wait for when it's all gone (nearly there - the last student loan payment has been paid - now to clear the teeny-weeny bit that is left, then I'll be free and in a position to save for things rather than saying "sod it, I'll whack it on my credit card.") If you're in debt then my best piece of advice to you is to sacrifice and get yourself out of it, that £3000 overdraft you have ain't gonna clear itself and the dreaded bank could withdraw it without any warning. Knowing that I've finally cleared 99% of my debt is liberating. This is one of the main benefits of making yourself fertile (other than making a baby of course), you actually realise how much money you wasted on nights out that you can't fully remember; you no longer feel crap for the first half of the week only to get clubbers' lurgy for the second half. Feeling healthy and taking control of my finances is one thing I'm sticking to, I feel great (and people I haven't seen in a while are commenting on how well I look - fancy that?!)
I want to be able to cope, be chilled, I don't want to be angry, I want to be pregnant and my hope is starting to come back. I want to be in control of what I can control and I'm starting to except that there are certain things I can't control, such as whether my two defrosted mini-mes are going to a) survive defrosting and b) whether they'll implant. No one can control that - not even the clever doctors and scientists, I just need to continue doing what I'm doing and looking after myself and hope for the best. As that's the best my wonderful Hubster and I can do is hope. We're getting there slowly.
I still have my moments however, certain things wind me up more than ever:
Anger towards our funding: this quite upset and shocked me - another Iffer who paid for her treatment who (as Melissa Ford would describe it) has left the island of IF and has joined the mainlanders after a successful first cycle that resulted in twins. Upon telling her that our funding covered medicated FET she unleashed a wrath of anger in a text that I wasn't ready for, that the NHS "took all her money." REALLY?!?! I have never known for the NHS to forcibly take money from us - we pay our taxes and when we're poorly we go and get treated be that at the doctors or hospital - most of the time for free. Yes, sometimes (unfortunately and often unfairly) some people don't qualify for free fertility treatment but the NHS doesn't take your money to pay for it, you opt to pay for your treatment, that is your choice. I will save and pay for whatever treatment the Hubster and I require once our funding has been depleted; I feel lucky to have funding but don't begrudge me for getting treatment when you have what you want - your babies (and you didn't have to experience what IVF loss is like - you're VERY lucky). I'd cough all the money up and some this very instant if I was guaranteed a baby at the end of it but as the excerpt above states, money / no money / emotional investment etc - there are no guarantees when it comes to IVF and I tell you what, whether you pay for your treatment or are lucky enough to receive funding - it doesn't make the pain easier to handle if your cycle doesn't work - I would never wish that pain on anyone. What REALLY annoyed me about this anger was if this person actually qualified for funding, neither her or her other half would've been able to quit smoking (a prerequisite of IVF treatment on the NHS and rightly so), their cycle worked first time and no real effort to stop smoking was made once pregnancy was achieved ... Why exactly should the NHS fund such treatment if you're not going to jump through the required hoops to get free treatment when there are others who remain infertile despite treating their bodies like temples? GRRRRRR!
Another thing that riles me right up is people that say: "you're so lucky you don't have kids." If you think this stupid bloody comment is supposed to make me feel better then you really are a dumb-ass. Lucky?! REALLY? Check page 96 of Melissa Ford's response to such nonsense - if anyone says this to me then they can expect to be on the receiving end of a hard punch to the face! I also hate it when people whine about losing their evenings as they have kids to feed and put to bed, and then work to do due to their job (which they're probably moaning about as well as it doesn't pay enough and they have to work too many hours) - that was your life choice so why don't you just shut up or take responsibility for your situation and change it?
So - as you can see, my tolerance levels aren't what they used to be! I still have my moments of anger but I do feel the anger I have is justified - I just prefer the happy me and not the angry me. I've started running again which is really helping me sort this out (as well as seeing Elise), I've also started making bread! Odd I know but I'm quite obsessed about it now - it's very satisfying so I strongly recommend you go out and buy a bread maker!
What's next then: I've started the first phase of down regulation so I'm on microgynon again. Those of you who have been following my blog will know that I seriously hate being on this pill, it does funny things to me. Then as with my last cycle I start the down regulation jabs - oh boy - I can't wait for those fun and games to start again but at least I know what to expect this time round. Once I've shut down I then start on estrogen as opposed to the gonal-f stimulation drugs - I'm quite pleased about this, the thought of getting OHSS again is horrid. The estrogen is to make sure my womb lining thickens nicely so I should quite like that feeling I imagine, then our two best surviving mini-mes are defrosted - these are 4BBs (see my previous post on grading embryos for an explanation), hopefully they'll both survive, be transferred and you never know - they both might implant (but I'm not going to make the mistake I made last time round and start thinking I'm pregnant with twins - trust me, I've learnt my lesson this time round).
So, after a long blogging break I'm back with a vengeance. To help keep me sane I repeat the lyrics of Basement Jaxx's Where's your Head at? One of my all time favourite tunes - why don't you have a listen?
Catch ya later :) x
Pregnancy loss is not nice; not having something tangible to grieve over means that some people think you recover quickly and also find it hard to fully understand what you're feeling. What's more after embryo transfer you are considered PREGNANT UNTIL PROVEN OTHERWISE (PUPO). You have a personal responsibility to treat your blastocyst as an implanted, developing embryo - you have a responsibility to behave like you're pregnant and this isn't an issue as you want it so much. What is shockingly hard is coming to terms with is NOT being pregnant.
I've been devouring a great book called Navigating the Land of IF (IF is the online acronym for infertility - infertility is full of acronyms - it takes a while to learn them all) by Melissa Ford. The way she writes really appeals to me; she says it how it is and I think this is a vital read for all of you who have found yourself on the Land of IF and if you have friends who are going through it then I also recommend you have a read - you'll soon discover those tit-bits of advice you give with good intentions normally have the opposite affect. EG: saying "I can feel it in my bones, this cycle is going to work for you" doesn't help - all we can do is hope, how your bones feel has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I'll conceive (and how were your bones feeling during my failed cycle? Could you feel my cycle not working then or did your bones give off the wrong signal? You can see the futility of such a comment now I bet?) Anyhow - she describes exactly how invested a couple are in IVF, both emotionally and financially - so much so that I want to show you an excerpt from her book where she explains the financial point to non-iffers (non-iffers are those of you who are fertile and live on the mainland). I think the financial point also illustrates quite clearly the emotional investment as well:
What if, during your eighth month of pregnancy, you were told by your obstetrician that in order to get the baby out, you would have to shell out the equivalent of a year of college tuition?
"But I thought I'd have eighteen years to save!" you'd exclaim, staring down at your belly, where the child you've been dreaming about for the last eight months waited.
Alas, you need to cough up the cash ... immediately.
You somehow gather together and fork over the money, but your doctor stares at the wad of cash and says, "Sorry. I guess I wasn't clear. This money is just for me to think about it. You'll need to come up with double this to get me to actually do anything."
Once again, committed to having a child, you pull together the money ... only to discover that there are more hoops, more bills - and not one of the payments you make will result in the absolute promise of a live child
By the time you're ready to enter treatments or adoption, you - like those already expecting - are committed to the idea of parenthood. It's a strong impulse to procreate and/or raise children. Either you have that impulse or you don't, and if you have it, it is not something you can talk yourself out of or fulfill with a puppy.
Melissa Ford, Navigating the land of IF - Understanding Infertility and exploring your options, pg 26, Seal press, California, 2009.
So while many of my friends who have found themselves pregnant are twitchy and panicky during their first trimester and wondering what the hell they have gotten themselves into - are they ready to be parents? Their age says they bloody well should be but they didn't expect it to be that easy... Coming to terms with the new life that is growing inside of them I don't doubt is a head fu*k, of course it is, but us Iffers are already one step ahead of them emotionally - we're ready to be parents NOW, it just so happens that it isn't that easy for us. So being PUPO then finding out that you're not pregnant is like being sucker punched, winded, broken... The urge to become a Mum is so strong in me, that despite not really feeling ready to start all over again, my heart is over-ruling my head and I am back with both feet firmly in the IVF process - this time with Frozen Embryo Transfer (FET), although this time I'm not excited: I'm wary, apprehensive, cautious and overall I'm scared. Scared of my heart shattering again, but the Hubster and I want more than anything to be pregnant, IVF is not for the feint hearted. I've heard that after a failed cycle you're never truly ready for the next one - you just get on with it - it's all to do with the strong impulse to be a parent.
Gone is the vivacious, chatty, confident Jojo of old, replace her with a timid, tongue tied, hand twisting angry little girl. That's what our failed IVF cycle did to my head. At a very good friend's birthday party less than two weeks since it all went wrong a well meaning friend who has a wonderful little boy as a result of IVF insisted on talking to me about IVF, and she just wouldn't shut up. She was like a wood-pecker who kept peck, peck, pecking. Despite telling her three times to stop and my wonderful sister-in-law telling her to stop she just wouldn't let it go until on the third time I told her I was visibly in pain and on the verge of tears. Apparently I need to go to Spain as the clinics are sh*t here - no they're not, they're amazing and they've already made us five mini-mes, one of them just didn't fancy sticking. I was a mixture of angry, intimidated, shy and all I wanted was to say beam me up Scotty and to find myself in my PJs, tucked up nice and safely in bed. Instead I found myself sobbing in the loo feeling too timid to come out and have fun. Party animal Jojo was no more, I just wanted to curl up and cry - someone who has been through IVF should know full well that your first public outing after a failed cycle is quite a big deal and one where compassion and love is needed; it's not an opportunity to dissect your failed cycle.
So, I've taken back some control and I'm getting some help dealing with how I feel - I've worked out the hard way that infertility is a tough island to find yourself on, I knew it was a tough place to be before I landed on the island of IF, but I never really understood what it was like. Everything is out of your control and for a control freak it's a rather tricky thing to get your head around. So I'm taking control of my emotions by going to counselling. Being in control is something that is central to my feeling ok - my counsellor and I have worked this out together quite quickly so she's helping me control my emotions and to find an outlet for them. Sudden bursts of anger and frustration can hit me without any warning and some things really annoy me (more than usual) - I'm working on managing these outbursts! She's also advised me to take control of aspects of my life that are 100% in my hands and the main thing that has been a source of stress is debt and my finances.
I'm taking control of my finances by clearing my debt and I'm a heartbeat from being debt free for the first time in my adult life. I can't tell you how amazing that feels; debt is BAD for the soul and it really annoys me how socially acceptable it is nowadays to be up to your eyeballs in debt, we all blame the bankers for the state of the economy but is it the bankers' fault that a lot of us have whacking great big overdrafts and several credit cards maxed out? No it's our own greed and inability to budget and save - it's not big and it's not clever, in fact it's stupid. I know the economy is up the creak without a paddle but it's about time we all started to take responsibility for our situations and take control of our expenditure, if you spent the money then it's your own fault (it took me a good while to learn that - in fact it's taken the majority of my adult life to work that conundrum out). I hate seeing all of my salary go on paying back creditors and I can't wait for when it's all gone (nearly there - the last student loan payment has been paid - now to clear the teeny-weeny bit that is left, then I'll be free and in a position to save for things rather than saying "sod it, I'll whack it on my credit card.") If you're in debt then my best piece of advice to you is to sacrifice and get yourself out of it, that £3000 overdraft you have ain't gonna clear itself and the dreaded bank could withdraw it without any warning. Knowing that I've finally cleared 99% of my debt is liberating. This is one of the main benefits of making yourself fertile (other than making a baby of course), you actually realise how much money you wasted on nights out that you can't fully remember; you no longer feel crap for the first half of the week only to get clubbers' lurgy for the second half. Feeling healthy and taking control of my finances is one thing I'm sticking to, I feel great (and people I haven't seen in a while are commenting on how well I look - fancy that?!)
I want to be able to cope, be chilled, I don't want to be angry, I want to be pregnant and my hope is starting to come back. I want to be in control of what I can control and I'm starting to except that there are certain things I can't control, such as whether my two defrosted mini-mes are going to a) survive defrosting and b) whether they'll implant. No one can control that - not even the clever doctors and scientists, I just need to continue doing what I'm doing and looking after myself and hope for the best. As that's the best my wonderful Hubster and I can do is hope. We're getting there slowly.
I still have my moments however, certain things wind me up more than ever:
Anger towards our funding: this quite upset and shocked me - another Iffer who paid for her treatment who (as Melissa Ford would describe it) has left the island of IF and has joined the mainlanders after a successful first cycle that resulted in twins. Upon telling her that our funding covered medicated FET she unleashed a wrath of anger in a text that I wasn't ready for, that the NHS "took all her money." REALLY?!?! I have never known for the NHS to forcibly take money from us - we pay our taxes and when we're poorly we go and get treated be that at the doctors or hospital - most of the time for free. Yes, sometimes (unfortunately and often unfairly) some people don't qualify for free fertility treatment but the NHS doesn't take your money to pay for it, you opt to pay for your treatment, that is your choice. I will save and pay for whatever treatment the Hubster and I require once our funding has been depleted; I feel lucky to have funding but don't begrudge me for getting treatment when you have what you want - your babies (and you didn't have to experience what IVF loss is like - you're VERY lucky). I'd cough all the money up and some this very instant if I was guaranteed a baby at the end of it but as the excerpt above states, money / no money / emotional investment etc - there are no guarantees when it comes to IVF and I tell you what, whether you pay for your treatment or are lucky enough to receive funding - it doesn't make the pain easier to handle if your cycle doesn't work - I would never wish that pain on anyone. What REALLY annoyed me about this anger was if this person actually qualified for funding, neither her or her other half would've been able to quit smoking (a prerequisite of IVF treatment on the NHS and rightly so), their cycle worked first time and no real effort to stop smoking was made once pregnancy was achieved ... Why exactly should the NHS fund such treatment if you're not going to jump through the required hoops to get free treatment when there are others who remain infertile despite treating their bodies like temples? GRRRRRR!
Another thing that riles me right up is people that say: "you're so lucky you don't have kids." If you think this stupid bloody comment is supposed to make me feel better then you really are a dumb-ass. Lucky?! REALLY? Check page 96 of Melissa Ford's response to such nonsense - if anyone says this to me then they can expect to be on the receiving end of a hard punch to the face! I also hate it when people whine about losing their evenings as they have kids to feed and put to bed, and then work to do due to their job (which they're probably moaning about as well as it doesn't pay enough and they have to work too many hours) - that was your life choice so why don't you just shut up or take responsibility for your situation and change it?
So - as you can see, my tolerance levels aren't what they used to be! I still have my moments of anger but I do feel the anger I have is justified - I just prefer the happy me and not the angry me. I've started running again which is really helping me sort this out (as well as seeing Elise), I've also started making bread! Odd I know but I'm quite obsessed about it now - it's very satisfying so I strongly recommend you go out and buy a bread maker!
What's next then: I've started the first phase of down regulation so I'm on microgynon again. Those of you who have been following my blog will know that I seriously hate being on this pill, it does funny things to me. Then as with my last cycle I start the down regulation jabs - oh boy - I can't wait for those fun and games to start again but at least I know what to expect this time round. Once I've shut down I then start on estrogen as opposed to the gonal-f stimulation drugs - I'm quite pleased about this, the thought of getting OHSS again is horrid. The estrogen is to make sure my womb lining thickens nicely so I should quite like that feeling I imagine, then our two best surviving mini-mes are defrosted - these are 4BBs (see my previous post on grading embryos for an explanation), hopefully they'll both survive, be transferred and you never know - they both might implant (but I'm not going to make the mistake I made last time round and start thinking I'm pregnant with twins - trust me, I've learnt my lesson this time round).
So, after a long blogging break I'm back with a vengeance. To help keep me sane I repeat the lyrics of Basement Jaxx's Where's your Head at? One of my all time favourite tunes - why don't you have a listen?
Catch ya later :) x
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
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
Thursday, 14 February 2013
Crumbling
15 days post egg collection, 10 days post embryo transfer
It wasn't meant to be like this, I wasn't supposed to start spotting 8 days after our mini-me was transferred, the spotting wasn't supposed to turn from brown to red, and the red spotting wasn't supposed to turn into a heavy, painful period but it has: the IVF hasn't worked and I'm heartbroken, devastated, grief-stricken and I'm heavy - oh so heavy. My arms and legs are heavy but most heavy is my heart, I can feel it breaking.
My friends were amazing last weekend, all of them rose to challenge of distracting me - I was happy to watch them drink booze whilst I drunk elderflower, I even tried half a Guinness on Saturday and I thought it was the foulest thing I'd ever tasted (anyone who knows me, knows how much I love my Guinness). This along with boobs changing, twinges down below and spotting a few days after transfer all convinced me I was pregnant, I even started thinking we might have identical twins. Silly Jojo - I should've known better than to run away with myself.
I've never really felt heartbroken before, but I do now. I've never howled like I have howled over the past two days and I'm crying writing this now. I so wanted our mini-me to stick, I put so much work into making my womb a VIP womb, and what with having a grade 5AA blasto I just can't see why it wouldn't work? I know I did everything possible to make it work and I know it's not my fault (doesn't stop it feeling like it's my fault though). Ho hum, I guess our mini-me was a bit fussy and didn't fancy it? All is not lost, we have mini-mes in the freezer so we can have another go, but for now I'm staying in bed, sleeping when I want to sleep, eating when I feel like eating (but having to force myself as I have no appetite) and just letting the tears flow. The Hubster came home from work yesterday after breaking down himself and after hearing me howl down the phone, it breaks my heart that little bit more when I see my darling Hubster broken - I do love him so and together I know we will be fine, it just doesn't quite feel like that right now. He's gone back to work today which is fine, despite crying already this morning I feel marginally better than yesterday - he needs to go to work, I need to rest. I had the foresight back in November to book a weekend away in Jersey at the beginning of March; we have never needed a break like we need this one - it will help us clear our minds and regroup, right now we're grieving.
I'm signing off for now - it might be a while till I'm back, I don't know - depends how I feel. If you're reading this and we're Facebook friends, please don't post any comments on my wall, please post them here or PM me, and if I don't reply please don't be offended. Despite being quite open with our journey, I'm not that ready to share my grief with the world of Facebook.
Catch ya later x
It wasn't meant to be like this, I wasn't supposed to start spotting 8 days after our mini-me was transferred, the spotting wasn't supposed to turn from brown to red, and the red spotting wasn't supposed to turn into a heavy, painful period but it has: the IVF hasn't worked and I'm heartbroken, devastated, grief-stricken and I'm heavy - oh so heavy. My arms and legs are heavy but most heavy is my heart, I can feel it breaking.
My friends were amazing last weekend, all of them rose to challenge of distracting me - I was happy to watch them drink booze whilst I drunk elderflower, I even tried half a Guinness on Saturday and I thought it was the foulest thing I'd ever tasted (anyone who knows me, knows how much I love my Guinness). This along with boobs changing, twinges down below and spotting a few days after transfer all convinced me I was pregnant, I even started thinking we might have identical twins. Silly Jojo - I should've known better than to run away with myself.
I've never really felt heartbroken before, but I do now. I've never howled like I have howled over the past two days and I'm crying writing this now. I so wanted our mini-me to stick, I put so much work into making my womb a VIP womb, and what with having a grade 5AA blasto I just can't see why it wouldn't work? I know I did everything possible to make it work and I know it's not my fault (doesn't stop it feeling like it's my fault though). Ho hum, I guess our mini-me was a bit fussy and didn't fancy it? All is not lost, we have mini-mes in the freezer so we can have another go, but for now I'm staying in bed, sleeping when I want to sleep, eating when I feel like eating (but having to force myself as I have no appetite) and just letting the tears flow. The Hubster came home from work yesterday after breaking down himself and after hearing me howl down the phone, it breaks my heart that little bit more when I see my darling Hubster broken - I do love him so and together I know we will be fine, it just doesn't quite feel like that right now. He's gone back to work today which is fine, despite crying already this morning I feel marginally better than yesterday - he needs to go to work, I need to rest. I had the foresight back in November to book a weekend away in Jersey at the beginning of March; we have never needed a break like we need this one - it will help us clear our minds and regroup, right now we're grieving.
I'm signing off for now - it might be a while till I'm back, I don't know - depends how I feel. If you're reading this and we're Facebook friends, please don't post any comments on my wall, please post them here or PM me, and if I don't reply please don't be offended. Despite being quite open with our journey, I'm not that ready to share my grief with the world of Facebook.
Catch ya later x
Wednesday, 6 February 2013
The final countdown
Embryo Transfer and the dreaded two week wait
Tuesday was ET day, it was a very exciting day and it pretty much marked a conclusion to our IVF treatment; after waiting for so long and then diving headlong into it, and then feeling rubbish (but very upbeat) throughout, would you think it strange if I told you I found this a little sad? Probably!
We got the call from our embryologist around about 9:30am on Tuesday to tell us we had one über top grade blastocyst for transfer and we have a few for freezing, all good quality blastos but the best with the highest possibility of implanting would be meeting me later. Whoop whoop. Despite having quite a few good quality embryos at the three day stage you always worry that they may not live - it has happened but I was ecstatic to hear that ours were still fighting. I gave verbal consent for them to be frozen - we have some babies in the bank so to speak.
Our appointment was at 2:30pm, you need to have a full bladder for ET as it helps the doctor place the embryo in the right section of the womb (the bladder helps flatten out the womb so when it comes to inserting the catheter into your womb - it practically goes in a straight line). Given the sheer amount of liquid I've been drinking to try and beat the OHSS this wasn't a problem, however - we didn't get seen until 3:30pm - I was full to bursting!!! Like egg collection (EC) day, you need to ensure that you're not wearing any makeup (including nail varnish), perfume - anything smelly and the same goes for your significant other - embryos don't like it so you need to make sure when you are going for EC and ET that you are there as God made you.
ET doesn't hurt and is much like a smear test as it involves a speculum, unlike having a baseline scan you have an ultrasound - it's via the ultrasound the team can see where to transfer the embryo. There were a legion of people in the room with us: the doctor doing the transfer, two other doctors, a trainee doctor and the embryologist. Initially a lovely, petite Indian lady doctor was supposed to do the ET but when I walked into theatre fully gowned up, I was asked if I minded another doctor doing the ET as he wanted try a new softer catheter (a more senior doctor obviously pulled rank)? I didn't really care who did it, as long as they did it properly and got my mini-me in my womb safely - this doctor seemed like he knew how to do the job! You can't be shy if you're having IVF, your foof is on show for everyone to have a look at. As they were trialling a new catheter we had a mock transfer first, this is fine, do as many practice runs as you like as long as when it comes to the real thing - it's done correctly (I didn't doubt the doctor's competence at any time btw). Yes ladies - you can't be shy about this; imagine you are on a dentist like chair with you legs in stirrups, much like a smear there's a speculum and it's clamped in for a good while, your chair is then winched up and there is a bright yellow shining light beaming at your foof where both male and female doctors will be having a look, all to ensure the safe delivery of your mini-me. This is what ET is like! The bonus of all of this is we not only got to see our mini-me hatching out of it's shell in the petri dish on the big plasma screen just before transfer, but we also saw it being inserted into my womb (not very clearly, but you could see it). This was awesome (and it brings a tear to my eye when I think about it - absolutely amazing).
A day five hatching blastocyst - this is what our mini-me looked like before transfer, ripe for attaching and implanting (fingers crossed).
Kings ACU use the Gardener scale for grading Blastocysts, the stage of development of the blastocyst(s) is graded from 1 - 6, and the outer and inner cell masses are graded from A-C. The inner cell mass forms what will become the baby (this is what you can see hatching out of the picture above), the outer cell mass or trophectoderm will become the placenta. The stage of development and quality of the outer and inner cell masses is scored as per the tables below. I've included this technical shizzle as it can be hard to remember everything as and when you're told it due to adrenalin, and given how you are positioned in theatre.
What I am really pleased to say is that our mini-me is a grade 5AA - this is the best type of blastocyst that can be transferred, and from what I understand is a bit like gold dust in the murky world of IVF/ICSI. Grade 6 blastos need to hatch in the womb so I was pleased as punch to see that we now have the best possible chance of success, our mini-me was ripe for implantation, fingers and toes crossed.
Test day is Friday 15 February 2013: gulp.
This is nine long days away. I am so looking forward to that day but it also scares the be-jesus out of me. It's REALLY hard not to dwell and over analyse every twinge (Google at times can be your own worst enemy). Those cramps I can feel, are they implantation cramps or is it my ovaries groaning with the last bit of OHSS or is it the progesterone pessaries? Questions, questions, questions. And it's because of all these questions, lack of activity and waiting that make the two week wait (or the 11 day wait for a five day transfer as in my case) the hardest part of IVF: am I pregnant or not - please somebody tell me!!! BUT one must wait patiently for the outcome of one's endeavours. There's no point in testing too early as you could get a big fat positive (BFP) due to residual HCG being in your system from the trigger shot done 36 hours prior to egg collection. I know of a friend who tested too early and got a BFP, and then ended up getting a big fat negative (BFN) when it came to test day. I can't put myself through that so I shall have to be patient and wait until the morning of 15 February.
I haven't worked out how I will tell people yet, what I do know, if its a BFN I'm not going to want to talk about it and I won't want to have to repeat the news, and I will crumble but for the minute the Hubster and I remain hopeful. Hopeful that our mini-me is bedding down for some VIP womb action and at the moment it feels like that might be happening but only time will tell, as I said - it could be anything. We have done everything humanly possible to make this work and we have a great chance of success but there are no guarantees.
So I'm signing off for now, the next nine days are going to be long but this is where my IVF Belief CD comes into it's own. The third and final message is about deep relaxation and positive visualisation and it really helps me chill and focus all my positive energy to my womb and our mini-me. I'm going to be listening to it lots. Please sprinkle oodles of baby dust our way and pray we get the result we so want.
Catch ya later :) x
Tuesday was ET day, it was a very exciting day and it pretty much marked a conclusion to our IVF treatment; after waiting for so long and then diving headlong into it, and then feeling rubbish (but very upbeat) throughout, would you think it strange if I told you I found this a little sad? Probably!
We got the call from our embryologist around about 9:30am on Tuesday to tell us we had one über top grade blastocyst for transfer and we have a few for freezing, all good quality blastos but the best with the highest possibility of implanting would be meeting me later. Whoop whoop. Despite having quite a few good quality embryos at the three day stage you always worry that they may not live - it has happened but I was ecstatic to hear that ours were still fighting. I gave verbal consent for them to be frozen - we have some babies in the bank so to speak.
Our appointment was at 2:30pm, you need to have a full bladder for ET as it helps the doctor place the embryo in the right section of the womb (the bladder helps flatten out the womb so when it comes to inserting the catheter into your womb - it practically goes in a straight line). Given the sheer amount of liquid I've been drinking to try and beat the OHSS this wasn't a problem, however - we didn't get seen until 3:30pm - I was full to bursting!!! Like egg collection (EC) day, you need to ensure that you're not wearing any makeup (including nail varnish), perfume - anything smelly and the same goes for your significant other - embryos don't like it so you need to make sure when you are going for EC and ET that you are there as God made you.
ET doesn't hurt and is much like a smear test as it involves a speculum, unlike having a baseline scan you have an ultrasound - it's via the ultrasound the team can see where to transfer the embryo. There were a legion of people in the room with us: the doctor doing the transfer, two other doctors, a trainee doctor and the embryologist. Initially a lovely, petite Indian lady doctor was supposed to do the ET but when I walked into theatre fully gowned up, I was asked if I minded another doctor doing the ET as he wanted try a new softer catheter (a more senior doctor obviously pulled rank)? I didn't really care who did it, as long as they did it properly and got my mini-me in my womb safely - this doctor seemed like he knew how to do the job! You can't be shy if you're having IVF, your foof is on show for everyone to have a look at. As they were trialling a new catheter we had a mock transfer first, this is fine, do as many practice runs as you like as long as when it comes to the real thing - it's done correctly (I didn't doubt the doctor's competence at any time btw). Yes ladies - you can't be shy about this; imagine you are on a dentist like chair with you legs in stirrups, much like a smear there's a speculum and it's clamped in for a good while, your chair is then winched up and there is a bright yellow shining light beaming at your foof where both male and female doctors will be having a look, all to ensure the safe delivery of your mini-me. This is what ET is like! The bonus of all of this is we not only got to see our mini-me hatching out of it's shell in the petri dish on the big plasma screen just before transfer, but we also saw it being inserted into my womb (not very clearly, but you could see it). This was awesome (and it brings a tear to my eye when I think about it - absolutely amazing).
A day five hatching blastocyst - this is what our mini-me looked like before transfer, ripe for attaching and implanting (fingers crossed).
Kings ACU use the Gardener scale for grading Blastocysts, the stage of development of the blastocyst(s) is graded from 1 - 6, and the outer and inner cell masses are graded from A-C. The inner cell mass forms what will become the baby (this is what you can see hatching out of the picture above), the outer cell mass or trophectoderm will become the placenta. The stage of development and quality of the outer and inner cell masses is scored as per the tables below. I've included this technical shizzle as it can be hard to remember everything as and when you're told it due to adrenalin, and given how you are positioned in theatre.
The Gardener blastocyst grading system assigns three seperate quality scores to each blastocyst embryo:
- Blastocyst development stage - expansion and hatching status
- Inner cell mass (ICM) score, or quality
- Trophectoderm (TE) score, or quality
| Expansion grade | Blastocyst development and stage status |
| 1 |
Blastocoel cavity less than half the volume of the embryo
|
| 2 |
Blastocoel cavity more than half the volume of the embryo
|
| 3 |
Full blastocyst, cavity completely filling the embryo
|
| 4 |
Expanded blastocyst, cavity larger than the embryo, with thinning of the shell
|
| 5 |
Hatching out of the shell
|
| 6 |
Hatched out of the shell
|
| ICM grade |
Inner cell mass quality
|
| A |
Many cells, tightly packed
|
| B |
Several cells, loosely grouped
|
| C |
Very few cells
|
| TE grade |
Trophectoderm quality
|
| A |
Many cells, forming a cohesive layer
|
| B |
Few cells, forming a loose epithelium
|
| C |
Very few large cells
|
What I am really pleased to say is that our mini-me is a grade 5AA - this is the best type of blastocyst that can be transferred, and from what I understand is a bit like gold dust in the murky world of IVF/ICSI. Grade 6 blastos need to hatch in the womb so I was pleased as punch to see that we now have the best possible chance of success, our mini-me was ripe for implantation, fingers and toes crossed.
Test day is Friday 15 February 2013: gulp.
This is nine long days away. I am so looking forward to that day but it also scares the be-jesus out of me. It's REALLY hard not to dwell and over analyse every twinge (Google at times can be your own worst enemy). Those cramps I can feel, are they implantation cramps or is it my ovaries groaning with the last bit of OHSS or is it the progesterone pessaries? Questions, questions, questions. And it's because of all these questions, lack of activity and waiting that make the two week wait (or the 11 day wait for a five day transfer as in my case) the hardest part of IVF: am I pregnant or not - please somebody tell me!!! BUT one must wait patiently for the outcome of one's endeavours. There's no point in testing too early as you could get a big fat positive (BFP) due to residual HCG being in your system from the trigger shot done 36 hours prior to egg collection. I know of a friend who tested too early and got a BFP, and then ended up getting a big fat negative (BFN) when it came to test day. I can't put myself through that so I shall have to be patient and wait until the morning of 15 February.
I haven't worked out how I will tell people yet, what I do know, if its a BFN I'm not going to want to talk about it and I won't want to have to repeat the news, and I will crumble but for the minute the Hubster and I remain hopeful. Hopeful that our mini-me is bedding down for some VIP womb action and at the moment it feels like that might be happening but only time will tell, as I said - it could be anything. We have done everything humanly possible to make this work and we have a great chance of success but there are no guarantees.
So I'm signing off for now, the next nine days are going to be long but this is where my IVF Belief CD comes into it's own. The third and final message is about deep relaxation and positive visualisation and it really helps me chill and focus all my positive energy to my womb and our mini-me. I'm going to be listening to it lots. Please sprinkle oodles of baby dust our way and pray we get the result we so want.
Catch ya later :) x
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