Since we arrived 2 weeks ago (or is it 3? My brain is definitely mush) we have literally not stopped. Obviously the reason we are in the UK is for IVF yet frankly an outsider would think we'd just come for a jolly. And a jolly good time we are having too. So far I have stayed with my sister in law, been to the Natural History Museum, visited my sister, brother in law and nephew at their new house and had a lovely family BBQ, stayed at my parents, Rufus (I've dispensed with anonimity as it's too time consuming coming up with psudenyms) started his pre-school and loved it, sister, brother in law and newphew (who has sent me absolutely ga ga with love) have stayed for a week, mother in law has also stayed for 5 days and husband has been here for 2 weeks. We have had simply the BEST time. My Mum has taken on role of Ward Sister and refuses to let me lift a finger which up until today has been a total sham as I have been feeling better than I had been in ages. The injections went brilliantly, I didn't have any side effects apart from the ususal weight gain (which a kindly nurse told me this morning was minimal and I had done very well which cheered me up immensly), oh and some cracking bruises on my stomach but these are covered anyway so who cares. No beard, no manly voice and no violent mood swings. All in all very civilised. I have found the scans fairly easy - lets face it no-one likes being probed with a phalic object (well I am sure many people do like being probed with phalic objects but just not in this situation) by a total stranger but the nurses have been nothing short of amazing and I really don't have any complaints.
Today was egg collection day and has been praying on my mind for this whole process since the dodgy AMH level results. BUT they got a good crop and have just called to say they have a nice number of mature eggs, so now its time to fertilize them (said in voice of country bumpkin as I can't say fertilze or combine harvester any other way). Next step is the biggy - will we find any that are chromosomally normal? It's a major worry and something that we are having to be a bit gung ho about, but luckily we should know by Friday if they are ok and so at least the wait is not too long - and I feel as though we have a chance which is postive. It's nice, I have little phone calls from my embryologist telling me how my eggs are doing which makes me feel very connected. I saw 2 chicks hatch at a farm park this week which stirred all kinds of new life feelings - it was quite magical and I felt and do feel very optimistic for our future. Mind you - egg collection is not quite like the Easter Bunny style of egg collection - it was incredibly painful and I am feeling absolutely shattered now so I am back off to bed for a rest and a catch up with the Archers.
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
Here we go!
A very quick update as the smallest member of the family has jet lag and his Mummy is exhausted! BUT so far so good, the downregulation worked, I have had a lesson in injecting which I think qualifies me for a medical position somewhere, and the drugs kick off tomorrow. Cue deep manly voice and nasal hair.
Wednesday, 6 April 2011
Au revoir...
So - two day's to go and we're off. There are two suitcases sitting on my spare bed with some semblance of attire and 'kit' in them, I have lists as long as a toilet roll, some things actually crossed off, most just pending. Today has been spent dashing from a-b, tomorrow will be much the same, and Friday will be an early start (5am - eurgh) as we head to England and for the real nitty gritty.
I had a final counselling session pre-IVF. I think I will keep going when I get back regardless of the outcome as I realise there really is a lot going on in my head that I have not dealt with. Lovely Head Doctor listened to me as I spilled the beans on how scared I am, how the magnitude of everything we have been through over the past 2 years has just hit me like a double decker bus and how I am emotionally drained. I think the best thing she said to me today was that I didn't have to be happy and excited and almost grateful for where we are going and what we are doing all the time. It's ok to be worried and have fears and admit that while this journey is hopefully going to take us to our ideal conclusion, we can be shaky along the way. My husband is being remarkable - I worry that he is holding back and not really sharing with me all his fears as he doesn't want to burden me, but I genuinely believe he is just being pragmatic and strong. Either way, he has surprised me every step of the way on this journey and I love him more and more every step of the way. Whatever the outcome, I will never doubt our strength as a couple or a family and that is a very nice place to be.
My friends and I got together today for a final play date for the little man, who has NO idea what all the fuss is about. As far as he's concerned he's off to see Granny and Poppa, Grandma (and gypsy) his Aunts, Uncles and cousins and go to a new school that he's reliably informed me has a Shark Class and he is going to be the biggest Shark. No idea if it does or not, but that's his take on life at present. He also has no idea that today he was accepted into the school of our choice here in Hong Kong which is a major relief and I wondered somewhat indulgently if it was a sign that maybe our luck might be changing? Hope so. Anyway, the playdate involved a lot of farewells and good lucks and I have a lump in my throat the size of Stone Henge. I really can't ever thank this group of wonderful women enough. They have truly shown me the meaning of the word friends and I am forever grateful. I hope that I can give everyone some good news soon...
I had a final counselling session pre-IVF. I think I will keep going when I get back regardless of the outcome as I realise there really is a lot going on in my head that I have not dealt with. Lovely Head Doctor listened to me as I spilled the beans on how scared I am, how the magnitude of everything we have been through over the past 2 years has just hit me like a double decker bus and how I am emotionally drained. I think the best thing she said to me today was that I didn't have to be happy and excited and almost grateful for where we are going and what we are doing all the time. It's ok to be worried and have fears and admit that while this journey is hopefully going to take us to our ideal conclusion, we can be shaky along the way. My husband is being remarkable - I worry that he is holding back and not really sharing with me all his fears as he doesn't want to burden me, but I genuinely believe he is just being pragmatic and strong. Either way, he has surprised me every step of the way on this journey and I love him more and more every step of the way. Whatever the outcome, I will never doubt our strength as a couple or a family and that is a very nice place to be.
My friends and I got together today for a final play date for the little man, who has NO idea what all the fuss is about. As far as he's concerned he's off to see Granny and Poppa, Grandma (and gypsy) his Aunts, Uncles and cousins and go to a new school that he's reliably informed me has a Shark Class and he is going to be the biggest Shark. No idea if it does or not, but that's his take on life at present. He also has no idea that today he was accepted into the school of our choice here in Hong Kong which is a major relief and I wondered somewhat indulgently if it was a sign that maybe our luck might be changing? Hope so. Anyway, the playdate involved a lot of farewells and good lucks and I have a lump in my throat the size of Stone Henge. I really can't ever thank this group of wonderful women enough. They have truly shown me the meaning of the word friends and I am forever grateful. I hope that I can give everyone some good news soon...
Monday, 4 April 2011
Crazy bonkers
Honestly where to start? The past few weeks really have been a whirlwind. It's been more like the lead up to a wedding than the start of IVF! My friends have been phenomenal. I am genuinely taken aback with the love and kindness they have shown me. From a fabulously glitzy dinner in my honour (where being the only one not drinking didn't matter at all), to presenting me with an extremely generous spa voucher, to listening to me when it's all got a bit too much. I am day's away from leaving Hong Kong and heading off on our 5 week journey and I am so sad to be leaving my friends behind as they really have been my support network throughout this whole journey. This baton is about to be passed on to my family - poor them!
It's been a bit of a roller coaster to say the least over the past 10 days, things have reached a whole new level of weirdness. The most defining moment being when I went to the Doctors with what I thought was a chest infection and was diagnosed with Severe Stress. Pardon? Honestly it's taken me a week AND a counselling session to believe this could be true, as I have seriously felt as though I have been on top of it all, but apparently not. The giveaway was the fact I couldn't breath which was apparently my subconscious stress levels showing their ugly heads (I visualise them as some sort of Star Wars ugly monster - lots of tentacles, heads and green slime. Ok, green slime is a bit far fetched but if one has to have an ugly monster it may as well be a good one), oh and panic attacks at night. To be fair I have had the latter for years so that was no big surprise, but the inability to breath was somewhat of an inconvenience. It would seem that my subconscious is telling me that I might have a few issues to deal with and unless I want to spend the foreseeable on tranquillisers and beta blockers which definitely have their place, just not in my life, I should perhaps do something about it. So my doctor very gently but with the air of a Headmaster who shall not be disobeyed suggested a few sessions with a counsellor to give me bit of help (which frankly is what I thought this blog was but clearly not!). Going to see the Psychologist was really quite strange. For as start if felt very American which love them as I do, I am British. We get on with things. Secondly, I was under orders from himself not to be the one asking the questions, I had to answer them. This was really very very difficult as I am fascinated by the workings of the brain (or lack of at times) and how this huge muscle defines our whole being, so to be in a counselling session and not ask all the questions I have wanted to for years was hard. I sat on my hands a lot and bit my tongue. However, I did as I was told and my Psychologist was really rather amazing. I felt so sorry for her - she's 6 months pregnant and there is me talking about miscarriages. Not exactly what you want to hear when you are pregnant yourself. She however seemed unfazed (I hope I have not lead her to have to have counselling?)and what was so fascinating was her ability to draw out things that I have really have locked away, but without realising. I told her how let down I felt by the medical profession and that I was very angry that we had had to endure 6 miscarriages before we got help - in fact I said it felt like I needed to notch up this gross number before anyone would even take us seriously which in my mind is more than a bit off. I was really quite cross at that. I told her how I am so scared to listen to my fears as to do so would make them valid, which would then open up the possibility to this whole process failing. I told her how when I say 'I've had 6 miscarriages' it sounds like a sentence, but when I listen to what I have said it sounds like a nightmare. I have dreams that are just too unpleasant to talk about, yet she listened and didn't suggest I was in anyway a nut job, in fact she said that I was very normal and my coping mechanisms were very normal, but I had to remember that I HAVE had 6 miscarriages, and I need to let my feelings and emotions have a bit of a free reign rather than trying to steer them in the direction I feel is acceptable.
So right now, as I write lists and start to think about packing, organising and getting ready for this journey, I can see why I would have severe stress. I'm quite prone to crying at the moment (just the tiniest glint of realising I will be away from my husband for so long reduces me to a gibbering wreck in world record time) which I daresay could be down to the hormones raging around my body but also just the sheer magnitude of what we are about to undertake and lets face it - the thought of the bulging suitcases and a 13 hour flight with a toddler could reduce anyone to tears. Actually - I'm looking forward to the last bit - I love nothing more than me and my baby cuddled up on a plane seat watching a film and being cosy. I have been having some nosebleeds from the nasal spray - only little ones but they seem to make me cry - what a complete wuss. I cried at some dreadful TV show where a bride chose her dress this evening - that HAS to be hormones or I really have lost the plot.
I think I really am a little bit of a nut job at the moment, but luckily my lovely new Head Doctor has it all covered and what is nice is that I trust her and her instincts implicitly so I hope that for once I can relinquish control for just a little bit and let her try and make sense of my head. I might also ask her to come to the hairdressers with me on Thursday as last time I was hormonal and at the hairdressers I chopped the lot off and dyed it blonde. Big mistake.
It's been a bit of a roller coaster to say the least over the past 10 days, things have reached a whole new level of weirdness. The most defining moment being when I went to the Doctors with what I thought was a chest infection and was diagnosed with Severe Stress. Pardon? Honestly it's taken me a week AND a counselling session to believe this could be true, as I have seriously felt as though I have been on top of it all, but apparently not. The giveaway was the fact I couldn't breath which was apparently my subconscious stress levels showing their ugly heads (I visualise them as some sort of Star Wars ugly monster - lots of tentacles, heads and green slime. Ok, green slime is a bit far fetched but if one has to have an ugly monster it may as well be a good one), oh and panic attacks at night. To be fair I have had the latter for years so that was no big surprise, but the inability to breath was somewhat of an inconvenience. It would seem that my subconscious is telling me that I might have a few issues to deal with and unless I want to spend the foreseeable on tranquillisers and beta blockers which definitely have their place, just not in my life, I should perhaps do something about it. So my doctor very gently but with the air of a Headmaster who shall not be disobeyed suggested a few sessions with a counsellor to give me bit of help (which frankly is what I thought this blog was but clearly not!). Going to see the Psychologist was really quite strange. For as start if felt very American which love them as I do, I am British. We get on with things. Secondly, I was under orders from himself not to be the one asking the questions, I had to answer them. This was really very very difficult as I am fascinated by the workings of the brain (or lack of at times) and how this huge muscle defines our whole being, so to be in a counselling session and not ask all the questions I have wanted to for years was hard. I sat on my hands a lot and bit my tongue. However, I did as I was told and my Psychologist was really rather amazing. I felt so sorry for her - she's 6 months pregnant and there is me talking about miscarriages. Not exactly what you want to hear when you are pregnant yourself. She however seemed unfazed (I hope I have not lead her to have to have counselling?)and what was so fascinating was her ability to draw out things that I have really have locked away, but without realising. I told her how let down I felt by the medical profession and that I was very angry that we had had to endure 6 miscarriages before we got help - in fact I said it felt like I needed to notch up this gross number before anyone would even take us seriously which in my mind is more than a bit off. I was really quite cross at that. I told her how I am so scared to listen to my fears as to do so would make them valid, which would then open up the possibility to this whole process failing. I told her how when I say 'I've had 6 miscarriages' it sounds like a sentence, but when I listen to what I have said it sounds like a nightmare. I have dreams that are just too unpleasant to talk about, yet she listened and didn't suggest I was in anyway a nut job, in fact she said that I was very normal and my coping mechanisms were very normal, but I had to remember that I HAVE had 6 miscarriages, and I need to let my feelings and emotions have a bit of a free reign rather than trying to steer them in the direction I feel is acceptable.
So right now, as I write lists and start to think about packing, organising and getting ready for this journey, I can see why I would have severe stress. I'm quite prone to crying at the moment (just the tiniest glint of realising I will be away from my husband for so long reduces me to a gibbering wreck in world record time) which I daresay could be down to the hormones raging around my body but also just the sheer magnitude of what we are about to undertake and lets face it - the thought of the bulging suitcases and a 13 hour flight with a toddler could reduce anyone to tears. Actually - I'm looking forward to the last bit - I love nothing more than me and my baby cuddled up on a plane seat watching a film and being cosy. I have been having some nosebleeds from the nasal spray - only little ones but they seem to make me cry - what a complete wuss. I cried at some dreadful TV show where a bride chose her dress this evening - that HAS to be hormones or I really have lost the plot.
I think I really am a little bit of a nut job at the moment, but luckily my lovely new Head Doctor has it all covered and what is nice is that I trust her and her instincts implicitly so I hope that for once I can relinquish control for just a little bit and let her try and make sense of my head. I might also ask her to come to the hairdressers with me on Thursday as last time I was hormonal and at the hairdressers I chopped the lot off and dyed it blonde. Big mistake.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
Sniff sniff
Today at 7am I started the drugs. Weird. Surreal really - so many months of tests, good news, bad news, tears and laughs have all come together and finally it's not longer all chat - it's actually happening.
I set my alarm as I have to take four sniffs a day, so am now a walking alarm clock to remind me when to ingest the magic potion. I did the first one in my sleep as I was so tired from a night tossing and turning - my subconscious thinking over the whole IVF process during my allotted seven hours sleep time. Irritating. Anyway, it was a fairly un-momentous moment although I am not sure exactly how I expected to feel? The 12 o'clock snifter was slightly more momentous as that happened in the back of a cab with my son (who has already tried to sniff my drugs - a worry as his favourite colour is pink and a whole host of hormones could send him into a glitterati of girly stuff) and husband. Both looked at me with vague interest, waiting to see what the result would be, which was a nasty taste down the back of my throat and that was that.
The 5 o'clock was far more momentous as I had to hold a sneeze in. I'd been warned about this - the sniffy drug is like gold dust and I don't want to miss a drop so I hopped and wiggled while rubbing my nose to keep the sneeze at bag, eyes bulging out and face going crimson. Sneeze stayed put although it has been threatening to re-appear ever since. So we have the 10pm one to go and that will be day one of drugs. I am taking baby aspirin and some mega folic acid, but only one a day of each of those so all in all its very manageable - as long as I remember to take them.
Obviously the drugs have had no immediate effect (well outwardly), but I have spent all day, and I mean ALL day thinking about babies and our quest to have one. Having just come back from a short trip to Australia to meet my five month old Godson, I am super broody. Spending 4 days with the little nugget has well and truly cemented my desire for another baby and instead of these feelings coming with a health warning - 'Danger - thoughts of pro-creating can lead to serious depression and disappointment' I am not only wishing for it - there is a very definite feeling it is within the realms of possibility that our family of 3 will soon become four, or maybe five...
It's fair to say the feelings are those akin to those I have in September when Christmas is within grasp and I can start listening to carols secretly. Bubble of glee as I think about the future, start imagining our family with a baby in it (or two...). I keep putting us all in scenario's - my son helping me change nappies, my husband doing that lovely thing of falling asleep on the sofa with a newborn on his chest (he did that all the time with our son and it was just the loveliest thing). I know we can't predict the future and I know we have to be prepared for the fact it might not work, but I think that now we have started the process a few positive vibes won't go amiss and why not? If I am going to put my body through this rigorous process, the least I can do is support it mentally. Positive Mental Attitude. I'm all over it.
I set my alarm as I have to take four sniffs a day, so am now a walking alarm clock to remind me when to ingest the magic potion. I did the first one in my sleep as I was so tired from a night tossing and turning - my subconscious thinking over the whole IVF process during my allotted seven hours sleep time. Irritating. Anyway, it was a fairly un-momentous moment although I am not sure exactly how I expected to feel? The 12 o'clock snifter was slightly more momentous as that happened in the back of a cab with my son (who has already tried to sniff my drugs - a worry as his favourite colour is pink and a whole host of hormones could send him into a glitterati of girly stuff) and husband. Both looked at me with vague interest, waiting to see what the result would be, which was a nasty taste down the back of my throat and that was that.
The 5 o'clock was far more momentous as I had to hold a sneeze in. I'd been warned about this - the sniffy drug is like gold dust and I don't want to miss a drop so I hopped and wiggled while rubbing my nose to keep the sneeze at bag, eyes bulging out and face going crimson. Sneeze stayed put although it has been threatening to re-appear ever since. So we have the 10pm one to go and that will be day one of drugs. I am taking baby aspirin and some mega folic acid, but only one a day of each of those so all in all its very manageable - as long as I remember to take them.
Obviously the drugs have had no immediate effect (well outwardly), but I have spent all day, and I mean ALL day thinking about babies and our quest to have one. Having just come back from a short trip to Australia to meet my five month old Godson, I am super broody. Spending 4 days with the little nugget has well and truly cemented my desire for another baby and instead of these feelings coming with a health warning - 'Danger - thoughts of pro-creating can lead to serious depression and disappointment' I am not only wishing for it - there is a very definite feeling it is within the realms of possibility that our family of 3 will soon become four, or maybe five...
It's fair to say the feelings are those akin to those I have in September when Christmas is within grasp and I can start listening to carols secretly. Bubble of glee as I think about the future, start imagining our family with a baby in it (or two...). I keep putting us all in scenario's - my son helping me change nappies, my husband doing that lovely thing of falling asleep on the sofa with a newborn on his chest (he did that all the time with our son and it was just the loveliest thing). I know we can't predict the future and I know we have to be prepared for the fact it might not work, but I think that now we have started the process a few positive vibes won't go amiss and why not? If I am going to put my body through this rigorous process, the least I can do is support it mentally. Positive Mental Attitude. I'm all over it.
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
Exciting times.
It's been a manic week one way or another. First of all, I'm off on an impromptu trip to Australia to see a school friend and her boys, one of whom is my Godson and I haven't even met him yet! I have to thank my lovely husband who I think took pity on me during 'sleep gate' and could see that I was a couple of days from combustion, so booked me quick smart on a plane to Sydney. I also think he's looking forward to a few days of uninterrupted sleep himself (she say's as his comments of 'that was a better night wasn't it?' ring in my ears. I had been up 4 times in the night and he slept through the lot). For the record - we are now getting some sort of routine back from our son, but I am still spending far too much of the night awake worrying. I have added schooling worries to the IVF ones - well in for a penny in for a pound and if I am going to be awake half the night 'thinking' I may as well make it productive.
Anyway, while organising the flight, I suddenly realised that I need to start taking drugs pretty smartish. Amusing to see how my mind works - we've been planning IVF since November/December time but it takes me to book a flight to actually realise I am starting it in 2 weeks. Nothing like leaving things until the last minute. I have to admit I have found the whole level of drugs and their administering really quite overwhelming and subconsciously put actually getting the drugs to the back of my mind as I couldn't face it. There are SO many to take and in so many different forms and at different times, I've got myself in a bit of a pickle about it. For the first time in my life I attempted an excel spreadsheet - I thought it would be helpful to put in what drug I need and when I need to take it - it's SO confusing I am permanently going back to check I haven't missed anything out. Anyway, that didn't work as I am hopeless at excel sheets and got myself more worked up than I was before. It all resulted in panic phone calls to Dr UK IVF's secretary (the Doc himself is on annual leave - probably to escape from me for a while) and Dr HK IVF's nurse to see if I could start just one drug here in Hong Kong and the rest when I get to England and at which point I will be given a print out with exact instructions. Phew - both said it was ok and I have to say I slept a whole lot better last night. If you ignore the little man wetting the bed after a nightmare and then shouting for me because his duvet wasn't on properly (!). Seriously - he is his fathers son through and through. Not the wetting the bed bit I should add.
I collected the first instalment of med's from the hospital this morning to start next week, and it's actually really exciting. I daresay it seems strange to say that the prospect of filling ones body with all kinds of hormones, steroids, anti-coagulants and the likes is exciting but really it is. I think I definitely have more Hollywood moments than most - this is where things in your life could be in a film - so for example when my son runs out of school into my arms, if you slow mo'd it down, that could be a scene from a film. Today when I actually held the drugs, it was very Hollywood. Not a blockbuster, granted, in fact I am not sure it would even go so far as straight to DVD - the Hollywood scenes in my life are all destined for the cutting room floor, but none the less it had a real sense of achievement, crescendo, the soundtrack would have been uplifting if it were in a film. As it's real life, none of that happened and the nurse gave me a demonstration in front of about 30 random punters of how to use the nasal spray. Not as glam as Julia Roberts but hey ho.
I trotted out of the hospital full of beans and optimism which I have found hard to find over the past few weeks. In the same way that when one has a miscarriage, all of a sudden lots of other people have them too and it's so horribly sad. Since we have been given the green light to go ahead with IVF if I have heard one failure story I have heard 10. Of course IVF does not mean immediate success and there have to be failures - thats life - but when you are on the start of your journey and full of so much hope its really hard to hear that it's failed for someone else. I now have to warn people that if they have bad stories not to tell me as I really can't bear to hear them. Anyway, today I am not full of doom and gloom but of hope and excitement. I am definitely in the zone where I think we are going to have a baby and I am seriously excited. It's almost like the drugs are the advent calendar, implantation is Christmas Eve and pregnancy test is Christmas Day - well we hope anyway.
So I'm off to Aus to see my lovely friend and her boys (sadly it will be a dry old do as I can't drink obviously, and she is breastfeeding), have some sun, do lots of lovely fun things and when I get back it's time to start snorting. You see - that's not Julia Roberts either. Maybe I need to re-asses this whole Hollywood thing...
Anyway, while organising the flight, I suddenly realised that I need to start taking drugs pretty smartish. Amusing to see how my mind works - we've been planning IVF since November/December time but it takes me to book a flight to actually realise I am starting it in 2 weeks. Nothing like leaving things until the last minute. I have to admit I have found the whole level of drugs and their administering really quite overwhelming and subconsciously put actually getting the drugs to the back of my mind as I couldn't face it. There are SO many to take and in so many different forms and at different times, I've got myself in a bit of a pickle about it. For the first time in my life I attempted an excel spreadsheet - I thought it would be helpful to put in what drug I need and when I need to take it - it's SO confusing I am permanently going back to check I haven't missed anything out. Anyway, that didn't work as I am hopeless at excel sheets and got myself more worked up than I was before. It all resulted in panic phone calls to Dr UK IVF's secretary (the Doc himself is on annual leave - probably to escape from me for a while) and Dr HK IVF's nurse to see if I could start just one drug here in Hong Kong and the rest when I get to England and at which point I will be given a print out with exact instructions. Phew - both said it was ok and I have to say I slept a whole lot better last night. If you ignore the little man wetting the bed after a nightmare and then shouting for me because his duvet wasn't on properly (!). Seriously - he is his fathers son through and through. Not the wetting the bed bit I should add.
I collected the first instalment of med's from the hospital this morning to start next week, and it's actually really exciting. I daresay it seems strange to say that the prospect of filling ones body with all kinds of hormones, steroids, anti-coagulants and the likes is exciting but really it is. I think I definitely have more Hollywood moments than most - this is where things in your life could be in a film - so for example when my son runs out of school into my arms, if you slow mo'd it down, that could be a scene from a film. Today when I actually held the drugs, it was very Hollywood. Not a blockbuster, granted, in fact I am not sure it would even go so far as straight to DVD - the Hollywood scenes in my life are all destined for the cutting room floor, but none the less it had a real sense of achievement, crescendo, the soundtrack would have been uplifting if it were in a film. As it's real life, none of that happened and the nurse gave me a demonstration in front of about 30 random punters of how to use the nasal spray. Not as glam as Julia Roberts but hey ho.
I trotted out of the hospital full of beans and optimism which I have found hard to find over the past few weeks. In the same way that when one has a miscarriage, all of a sudden lots of other people have them too and it's so horribly sad. Since we have been given the green light to go ahead with IVF if I have heard one failure story I have heard 10. Of course IVF does not mean immediate success and there have to be failures - thats life - but when you are on the start of your journey and full of so much hope its really hard to hear that it's failed for someone else. I now have to warn people that if they have bad stories not to tell me as I really can't bear to hear them. Anyway, today I am not full of doom and gloom but of hope and excitement. I am definitely in the zone where I think we are going to have a baby and I am seriously excited. It's almost like the drugs are the advent calendar, implantation is Christmas Eve and pregnancy test is Christmas Day - well we hope anyway.
So I'm off to Aus to see my lovely friend and her boys (sadly it will be a dry old do as I can't drink obviously, and she is breastfeeding), have some sun, do lots of lovely fun things and when I get back it's time to start snorting. You see - that's not Julia Roberts either. Maybe I need to re-asses this whole Hollywood thing...
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