As I sit here typing I am reticent about being too positive as from my experience, as soon as we think we are on the way to a positive outcome, something crops up and we come crashing down to earth. However, I have just had the last blood tests back and low and behold they are all clear. Fabulous! To be honest, these were the HIV/Hep A&B, Rubella ones so I knew they would be, but there is something very nerve wracking about waiting for the results of blood tests, however confident you are. These bloods signal the end of the tests and hopefully the start of the treatment.
On a not quite so good note and the potential spanner in the works are the results of the Hysteroscopy, which as a Nearly Doctor I have interpreted, but having learnt my lesson from a few weeks ago when I thought it was game over for us, I am going to exercise caution in my diagnosis. Basically, they did find scarring which is less than ideal, and they also found an Endometrial Polyp which was removed (retained product from the last miscarriage). However, from the little I have learnt so far I think (cautious tone in voice as I type) this can be worked around.
I have sent all the results to Dr UK IVF for his interpretation and shall count down the hours until the working day in the UK starts and he can give us his take on it all, but Dr HK IVF and Gynae think it's all ok.
So there we go. I think we have a little chink of light at the end of the tunnel and without getting too over excited, I am excited! If nothing else, I have no nasty diseases, a fairly clean bill of health, and what stumbling blocks there are in the way appear to be treatable. I saw a little new born baby this morning and for a moment I allowed myself to think that maybe it could be our turn soon, which while a very indulgent thought as there is still so far to go, was nice to be able to do. It seems within the realms of possibilty that we may have a brother or sister for our little man and when I have stopped crying (of COURSE I am crying - this is the best news we've had in months - imagine if Dr UK IVF gives us the green light - I will be a gibbering wreck) I will enjoy this moment. We still have so far to go, our journey is not even half way through, yet this day really is the first when there seems to be a medical reason to be confident (if we gloss over the hysteroscopy results). It's been a long few months and we are totally exhausted by it, and we need to re-charge and get ready for the next steps, but if we do get the go ahead, I think its fair to say there will be a cork popping somewhere in Hong Kong tonight.
Monday 28 February 2011
Thursday 24 February 2011
Ow.
Yesterday was Hysteroscopy Day. And Sports Day, which was markedly more enjoyable. Having had an extremely bad nights sleep the night before - although bad nights sleep suggests there was sleep, which there was not - with the little man who has croup, I was most certainly ready for a nice drug induced sleep at The Matilda Hotel. Sorry, hospital. Magazine and book packed, I trotted off for what an onlooker might have assumed was a spa date, so ready for relaxation was I. Upon arrival at the afore mentioned hospital which really does resemble a hotel in parts and has a very nice room service menu, I checked in, went through the obligatory ritual embarrassment of being weighed and 'gosh you don't look XX kg's' from a sweet tiny nurse, was told that my notes now required 3 folders which made me a VIP (which has no benefits sadly) and settled into my room. Here I read a magazine uninterrupted which was bliss, put on the regulation uniform for operations (elastic string pants don't look so hot but for those with a little extra around the stomach region, they are extremely comfortable), had a quick chat with the Anaesthetist who said 'Oh hello again. Well you've been here so often I don't really need to explain this to you do I? How was your holiday in Dubai?'' and went down to surgery. My Gynae was late, she always is but I don't mind in the slightest as I lie on the bed, arms stretched out either side on the rests (ready to be strapped down post anaesthetic but not before - it's against the Geneva convention you know) under a nice heated duvet. Life could be a whole lot worse. In comes my Gynae, quick chat about how she went to Uni with Dr UK IVF and what a small world it was, but I didn't get to the end of the story as the nice white medicine that is injected into my arm takes effect and its night night.
At this point what usually happens is that my Gynae performs an ERPC, I wake up a little bit later, have a nice snooze, order a yummy sandwich and a cup of tea, a bit more magazine reading and then home. Yesterday that did not happen. I woke, felt my head pound and my stomach loop the loop and realised that the day was going to go downhill. While having my routine hysteroscopy it looks like there was some 'retained product' that still hadn't departed the mother ship from the last miscarriage, and so was removed. I have no idea how it all went as I haven't spoken to my Gynae today, but judging from how battered and bruised I feel, I would say she had a lot to do. The procedure was longer than normal and I think the vast dose of IV pain relief added to the all round yuk effect - relaxing it wasn't. In the recovery room one of the nurses was barking at me to breath deeply as I was still woozy, which I have to say was greeted with a bark from me asking her what on earth she expected I would be like having just come round from an anaesthetic. I think she got the point and I was wheeled up to my room. No magazines this time, no mouthwatering thoughts of yummy sandwiches, just lots of swallowing to stop the nausea. It's quite disappointing in a way, if one really does have to go through these little procedures, it would be nice to have a little upside, but yesterday that wasn't to be. I even missed American Idol.
Anyway, after another interrupted nights sleep at home from croup boy, I find myself exhausted and on a bit of an anaesthetic downer, which I always get so is no surprise. The Nurse from my Gynae's office called to say that she would find out exactly what had happened in the procedure, as this could affect our plans for treatment. I am pretty worried that it will hold things up, but to be honest I am so tired that there is a great air of 'what will be will be' about me. I smile at the thought that 2 days ago I was excited that this would be the last hurdle before we can go forward, stupid me for not knowing that of COURSE there would be a hiccup, there always is with us. But I am positive. Positively exhausted!
At this point what usually happens is that my Gynae performs an ERPC, I wake up a little bit later, have a nice snooze, order a yummy sandwich and a cup of tea, a bit more magazine reading and then home. Yesterday that did not happen. I woke, felt my head pound and my stomach loop the loop and realised that the day was going to go downhill. While having my routine hysteroscopy it looks like there was some 'retained product' that still hadn't departed the mother ship from the last miscarriage, and so was removed. I have no idea how it all went as I haven't spoken to my Gynae today, but judging from how battered and bruised I feel, I would say she had a lot to do. The procedure was longer than normal and I think the vast dose of IV pain relief added to the all round yuk effect - relaxing it wasn't. In the recovery room one of the nurses was barking at me to breath deeply as I was still woozy, which I have to say was greeted with a bark from me asking her what on earth she expected I would be like having just come round from an anaesthetic. I think she got the point and I was wheeled up to my room. No magazines this time, no mouthwatering thoughts of yummy sandwiches, just lots of swallowing to stop the nausea. It's quite disappointing in a way, if one really does have to go through these little procedures, it would be nice to have a little upside, but yesterday that wasn't to be. I even missed American Idol.
Anyway, after another interrupted nights sleep at home from croup boy, I find myself exhausted and on a bit of an anaesthetic downer, which I always get so is no surprise. The Nurse from my Gynae's office called to say that she would find out exactly what had happened in the procedure, as this could affect our plans for treatment. I am pretty worried that it will hold things up, but to be honest I am so tired that there is a great air of 'what will be will be' about me. I smile at the thought that 2 days ago I was excited that this would be the last hurdle before we can go forward, stupid me for not knowing that of COURSE there would be a hiccup, there always is with us. But I am positive. Positively exhausted!
Tuesday 22 February 2011
The calm after the storm
It's been a funny couple of weeks. Funny ha ha and funny strange. After a flurry of activity and emotions, all of a sudden everything calmed down and life became normal again and with it I experienced the funny strange emotions. They are all centred around my son. I am no different from any other Mother in my total obsession with him. I love him so much that it the phrase 'it hurts' rings true, it really DOES hurt. A strange thing really that something so good would hurt but there you go. Anyway, our son is the best thing that has happened to my husband and I and we feel blessed to have him (gosh that sounds so American). He has however spent the past 2 weeks testing our love, his behaviour so bad that a non relative would definitely have put him up for adoption, but we grit our teeth, consult Super Nanny and live to see another day. The 'bad' behaviour has been a sleep issue. He's nearly 3, in a big boys bed and potty trained at night. I think these are pretty amazing landmarks for a toddler and I am immensely proud of him. The night time toilet training he did himself, we had 3 wet beds and he has been dry for nearly a month now. The staying in the big boys bed, well thats a different matter. We have had 2 weeks of what I can only call torture. He puts a new born baby in the shade with his nocturnal activities. One evening I had to put him back to bed 21 times in the space on an hour and a half, I rather lost the will to live. Little did I know that the next hour and a half would see me repeat the action a further 20 times, and I would be up a grand total of 15 times during the night. Unlike a new born who cries, you feed them, they may cry some more but you know that at some point they will go to sleep and if they don't you can be hard as nails and turn the monitor off, this one talks back. Ours talks back in Charlie and Lola (brilliant children's TV show, not so brilliant at 3am) talk, which goes something like, 'I will not ever ever completely not actually go to sleep. Ever.' (foot stamp). I can honestly say the sleep depravation and frustration took me to new lows and I wondered if we were doing the right thing by trying for another baby? I truly felt as though I was getting the whole mothering thing so dreadfully wrong that to it would be utter madness to go through it again. The long nights reminded me so much of the early months when our little boy was a baby, where I could go for 3 nights with 90 minutes sleep (he had horrendous reflux) and I really did nearly combust. I crashed the car instead which was the slightly more dramatic result of the situation, but apparently I didn't do enough damage to get any serious sympathy. Irritating. I will know for next time that a bent bumper doesn't cut the mustard. Anyway, I have been having little niggling doubts about IVF. Our life has become (pre night time wake ups which we hope are a teeny blip) very very easy. Our son was a dream on the sleep front, sleeping for up to 14 hours some nights (to the envy of my friends but they do concede that having had 15 months of shocking sleep when he arrived, we were due a break!), he is great fun to have around, holidays are relaxing and so much more enjoyable now that he is able to join in on the fun stuff. I suppose what has happened is we have become selfish and we are enjoying where we are now. We are happiest when it's the 3 of us on adventures, cooking, having dinners, playing, being a family and I would be lying if the thought didn't creep into my mind that perhaps this was fate gently suggesting we leave things as they are. Don't upset the apple cart. With the recent challenging behaviour, I have honestly questioned my ability to be a mother to another child. I know that all Mum's have times where they doubt their skills, so I don't think I am unusual in that respect but I suppose it's weird to hear it from someone who is trying everything under the sun to have another baby, but there are times when I am just not sure I am cut out for this. I have never really been very confident in my child rearing - I openly admit that I made a total hash of our son's first few months with my constant desire to be a Gina Ford Mum which backfired horribly. So why on earth do I think it's a good idea to do it again? But this shouldn't be misconstrued as me not wanting a baby, on the contrary, as Lola would say, I really actually desperately ever ever do want a baby, I am just rather scared the baby might not want me!
I think what is happening is that we are getting closer to D-Day as it were, and the nerves are kicking in. I would give anything to have a newborn baby and cuddle him or her to sleep, to experience that wonderful time again, sleep depravation and all, I'm just beginning to get the terrors that it won't work and so naturally I am going into survival mode which is allowing myself to think that a future just the 3 of us is good and could be sensible. But as we know, I am not great at sensible, and when I have had the terror moments I do tend to feel the teeny bubble of excitement well up again at the thought of another little person in our house. I suppose for us its like being first time parents again, and all the doubts are those that normal parents have only we have a bit more insight into what's coming. I wake up from horrible dreams where I have had to call my husband in Hong Kong and tell him it didn't work, his disappointment really really being too much for me to take. I have little flashes where it's worked and I am pregnant and that is the news I am telling him - its all a bit of a muddle right now to be honest. Fundamentally I AM excited, and I did feel great excitement yesterday when leaving the doctors having done the last round of blood tests, a quick swab test (horrible) and will be having a hysteroscopy on Thursday to make sure that everything is ok internally. Honestly, I can't wait, I will be under General Anaesthetic for an hour which will be the best sleep I have had in weeks! It's all coming together and finally it IS happening. Hopefully in a month I will be starting hormone therapy and perhaps then, when the wheels are in motion I will truly be able to allow myself to indulge in some serious baby hopes.
The funny ha ha by the way was my friend being told by her OB that 'breastfeeding is for poor people in Calcutta.' It's made me smile all week....
I think what is happening is that we are getting closer to D-Day as it were, and the nerves are kicking in. I would give anything to have a newborn baby and cuddle him or her to sleep, to experience that wonderful time again, sleep depravation and all, I'm just beginning to get the terrors that it won't work and so naturally I am going into survival mode which is allowing myself to think that a future just the 3 of us is good and could be sensible. But as we know, I am not great at sensible, and when I have had the terror moments I do tend to feel the teeny bubble of excitement well up again at the thought of another little person in our house. I suppose for us its like being first time parents again, and all the doubts are those that normal parents have only we have a bit more insight into what's coming. I wake up from horrible dreams where I have had to call my husband in Hong Kong and tell him it didn't work, his disappointment really really being too much for me to take. I have little flashes where it's worked and I am pregnant and that is the news I am telling him - its all a bit of a muddle right now to be honest. Fundamentally I AM excited, and I did feel great excitement yesterday when leaving the doctors having done the last round of blood tests, a quick swab test (horrible) and will be having a hysteroscopy on Thursday to make sure that everything is ok internally. Honestly, I can't wait, I will be under General Anaesthetic for an hour which will be the best sleep I have had in weeks! It's all coming together and finally it IS happening. Hopefully in a month I will be starting hormone therapy and perhaps then, when the wheels are in motion I will truly be able to allow myself to indulge in some serious baby hopes.
The funny ha ha by the way was my friend being told by her OB that 'breastfeeding is for poor people in Calcutta.' It's made me smile all week....
Monday 7 February 2011
Don't panic Mrs Mannering...
...My father used to say that to my mother when she was mid panic, still does. This could be a clue to my somewhat highly strung nature - it is inherited from my mother. When in doubt blame Mum.
I however don't like the term highly strung as it sounds like a horse that is basically a rotter but to be kind people call it highly strung. What they mean is it's a lunatic. I like to call such a personality trait impulsive, and when one moves on from the terrible calamities being impulsive tends to be associated with, it does have many good attributes. Those of us with an 'act now think later,' disposition tend to do quite a lot of exciting things in our lives because we don't think about the consequences. We have an awful lot of fun and when not stressing, enjoy life to the max. Sadly, one of the not so good attributes of an impulsive nature is to see things entirely on face value and not necessarily spend time gathering the full facts. It means we spend a vast part of our lives apologising and admitting we were wrong. It also means that when we are furnished with the full facts, we can somewhat obsess, see ALL the pitfalls and retreat into a world of doom and gloom. My husband calls me Health and Safety because when I do actually take a second to digest a situation, I find so many potential death traps, pitfalls, looming disasters that I become a neurotic stress ball, worthy of the phrase 'Don't panic Mrs Mannering.'
All of this leads me back to the blood tests. On an impulsive persons face value they were bleaker than bleak and worthy of a bottle of wine, straw and then another. Which is what we did. Example one of an impulsive persons propensity to admitting they were wrong. While knowledge is power, a little knowledge wrongly administered can be the root of many a downfall. My obsession to interpret information and know all the facts immediately, instead of waiting for the actual trained expert to explain them is a clear example of this. I got it wrong. I am also beginning to adjust my opinion of Google, or rather my use of it, and think perhaps we might have an armistice. While it is clearly full of useful information, it is also full of snippets of potentially scary information, which digested the wrong way can definitely cause undue upset and worry. Which is where this Nearly Doctor fell foul. It would seem that my blood tests were indeed a bit bleak in the fact that one would obviously prefer not to have any issues, but in relation to IVF, according to Dr UK IVF who is flying so high in our estimations at present he is not far off Sainthood, they are actually not so bad.
I do indeed have some problems with my immune system - it is super active and tends to attack any supposed 'infection' with the force of a crusade. This is actually not a bad thing according to Dr UK IVF, because it means that I am healthy (like having super powers I think was the analogy he used which irritated my husband horribly as he does not have these super powers, but made me smile a lot) and my body is less likely to get anything nasty. It's bad news for any embryo as that is deemed a threat by my white blood cells, but with a little tweaking and some very clever medicine that will 'calm down' my immune system, we can hopefully control this when it comes to implantation time. I will probably have this for life, although there are no studies that can prove or disprove this as yet.
My blood clotting mutation (such a horrible word) is genetic, so I blame my parents entirely, but with steroids, asprin and some whopping doses of super powered folic acid (being shipped as I type) it can be controlled. I am at risk of Thrombosis, stroke and coronary disease, but now that I know this, I can control it.
During our phone call with Dr UK IVF he said that he was actually pleased with our results. This is a funny one, and I was not sure entirely how to take it but as he said, now that we know about all of this, we can treat it and he said his feeling was a positive one. When we ended the call, my husband and I sat silently on the sofa for a minute. We had just had what seemed like the first positive news in a long time, and a teeeny tiny part of me began to think that actually this might work. Which then obviously turned to fear. What if this is our one piece of good luck and we have just used it up and now the IVF will fail? Silly really to have such an irrational thought after good news, but as I am sure it is clear by now, I do have a very active imagination and my mind really is not under my control at all times. Luckily I have a husband who can go some way to controlling me and talking sense, of which he did, telling me to stop being so pessimistic and be pleased we have good news. Which is where I am now. Pleased, optimistic, a bit nervous and not overly looking forward to the next medical bit of this journey which is another general anaesthetic in a couple of weeks to do a Hysteroscopy and check that all is well in the mothership. As we know, GA's are actually not remotely horrible for me, I quite like them, but it's another investigations that could throw up another problem. But that is a couple of weeks away, right now the sun is shining, we had another successful night of big boy pants in bed, my walk this morning was stunning, and we are being grateful for the fact that we are even able to go down this journey, have these tests, try and find a solution as so many people are not as fortunate as us in their quest to have a child, and that must just be unbearable.
I think I might try and slow down a little, take things more in my stride, be a little more relaxed, less impulsive, perhaps try the 'think now, act later' approach to life. Don't fancy my chances but you never know......
I however don't like the term highly strung as it sounds like a horse that is basically a rotter but to be kind people call it highly strung. What they mean is it's a lunatic. I like to call such a personality trait impulsive, and when one moves on from the terrible calamities being impulsive tends to be associated with, it does have many good attributes. Those of us with an 'act now think later,' disposition tend to do quite a lot of exciting things in our lives because we don't think about the consequences. We have an awful lot of fun and when not stressing, enjoy life to the max. Sadly, one of the not so good attributes of an impulsive nature is to see things entirely on face value and not necessarily spend time gathering the full facts. It means we spend a vast part of our lives apologising and admitting we were wrong. It also means that when we are furnished with the full facts, we can somewhat obsess, see ALL the pitfalls and retreat into a world of doom and gloom. My husband calls me Health and Safety because when I do actually take a second to digest a situation, I find so many potential death traps, pitfalls, looming disasters that I become a neurotic stress ball, worthy of the phrase 'Don't panic Mrs Mannering.'
All of this leads me back to the blood tests. On an impulsive persons face value they were bleaker than bleak and worthy of a bottle of wine, straw and then another. Which is what we did. Example one of an impulsive persons propensity to admitting they were wrong. While knowledge is power, a little knowledge wrongly administered can be the root of many a downfall. My obsession to interpret information and know all the facts immediately, instead of waiting for the actual trained expert to explain them is a clear example of this. I got it wrong. I am also beginning to adjust my opinion of Google, or rather my use of it, and think perhaps we might have an armistice. While it is clearly full of useful information, it is also full of snippets of potentially scary information, which digested the wrong way can definitely cause undue upset and worry. Which is where this Nearly Doctor fell foul. It would seem that my blood tests were indeed a bit bleak in the fact that one would obviously prefer not to have any issues, but in relation to IVF, according to Dr UK IVF who is flying so high in our estimations at present he is not far off Sainthood, they are actually not so bad.
I do indeed have some problems with my immune system - it is super active and tends to attack any supposed 'infection' with the force of a crusade. This is actually not a bad thing according to Dr UK IVF, because it means that I am healthy (like having super powers I think was the analogy he used which irritated my husband horribly as he does not have these super powers, but made me smile a lot) and my body is less likely to get anything nasty. It's bad news for any embryo as that is deemed a threat by my white blood cells, but with a little tweaking and some very clever medicine that will 'calm down' my immune system, we can hopefully control this when it comes to implantation time. I will probably have this for life, although there are no studies that can prove or disprove this as yet.
My blood clotting mutation (such a horrible word) is genetic, so I blame my parents entirely, but with steroids, asprin and some whopping doses of super powered folic acid (being shipped as I type) it can be controlled. I am at risk of Thrombosis, stroke and coronary disease, but now that I know this, I can control it.
During our phone call with Dr UK IVF he said that he was actually pleased with our results. This is a funny one, and I was not sure entirely how to take it but as he said, now that we know about all of this, we can treat it and he said his feeling was a positive one. When we ended the call, my husband and I sat silently on the sofa for a minute. We had just had what seemed like the first positive news in a long time, and a teeeny tiny part of me began to think that actually this might work. Which then obviously turned to fear. What if this is our one piece of good luck and we have just used it up and now the IVF will fail? Silly really to have such an irrational thought after good news, but as I am sure it is clear by now, I do have a very active imagination and my mind really is not under my control at all times. Luckily I have a husband who can go some way to controlling me and talking sense, of which he did, telling me to stop being so pessimistic and be pleased we have good news. Which is where I am now. Pleased, optimistic, a bit nervous and not overly looking forward to the next medical bit of this journey which is another general anaesthetic in a couple of weeks to do a Hysteroscopy and check that all is well in the mothership. As we know, GA's are actually not remotely horrible for me, I quite like them, but it's another investigations that could throw up another problem. But that is a couple of weeks away, right now the sun is shining, we had another successful night of big boy pants in bed, my walk this morning was stunning, and we are being grateful for the fact that we are even able to go down this journey, have these tests, try and find a solution as so many people are not as fortunate as us in their quest to have a child, and that must just be unbearable.
I think I might try and slow down a little, take things more in my stride, be a little more relaxed, less impulsive, perhaps try the 'think now, act later' approach to life. Don't fancy my chances but you never know......
Sunday 6 February 2011
Nothing in life is easy...
We've just come back from a week's holiday in Chiang Mai and Bangkok. It was awesome. So absolutely amazing I could wax lyrical for hours about it, but it doesn't really have a huge amount to do with our IVF journey. Well, apart from the fact that we had a week doing exciting things like trekking on elephants through the jungle, riding horses, darting around in tuk-tuks and for me, eating my considerable weight in rice paper rolls - none of which could have been done while I was pregnant. It was the exact tonic (gin and....) we needed to not think about anything medical or baby related. Of course we did, we had one or two chats over a glass of wine (I lifted the no alcohol ban for the holiday) about numbers of embryo's we would implant, names we might like (or not - we disagree on almost every name which is thoroughly irritating for me and a new sport for my husband), and we dared to think that we might be a step closer to success. Error. We landed back in Hong Kong and like every other irritating traveller who has spent more than 30 seconds out of contact from their friends or colleagues, I turned my phone on the second my foot stepped off the plane (I abjectly refuse to join the hoards of uber irritants who have to turn their electrical device on the second the wheels touch tarmac, just before they take their seat belts off even though it clearly says do not. Grrrr. My husband is one of them and for the record you are all rather sad). It took a while before the e-mails came in, but before we'd reached passport control, they had made their presence in my inbox. Most importantly there was a very important mail in it from our specialist in the UK, our blood tests were back and attached. Now, as we know, I am a nearly doctor so assumed that interpreting them would be child's play if you'll excuse the pun. Not quite as easy - I must have skipped that lecture - but the chart of tests, their outcome and any possible treatment was easy to interpret even if I didn't know what I was being treated for. Oh, and a give away that it might not be as brilliant reading as the exceptionally good Agatha Christie I had read on holiday was Dr UK IVF's sentence; "there is a LOT going on in your system!!!!" I did point out to my husband that 4 exclamation marks from a medic, who in my experience as a whole are generally not disposed to humour, did at least make me smile although I am still not sure why. Our Dr is in fact a rather human sort and one that I like a lot so I chose at present to believe these exclamations mean there could be a glimmer of hope, because until we speak to him tomorrow night, we are somewhat in no mans land and frankly I am beginning to feel the waves of panic lap over me.
The long and the short of it is I have rather a lot of blood issues, that regardless of the Chromosomal abnormalities, mean no pregnancy can possibly survive in my current state (according to my husband I have to say here that this is still to be confirmed by an actual doctor and not just a nearly one. Pedantic if you ask me given the blood report but none the less...). My liver, kidney and protein are all excellent which came as a very welcome surprise, sadly I have a matching DQ a Genotype with my husband, which means basically we are damaging the embryo before it implants. Then I have 'Grossly Increased' TH1:TH2 Cytokine Ratio's - ie my own immune system is killing all embryo's as they limp along in a pregnancy. Add to that a Heterozygous mutation in my PAI-1 Polymorphism and MTHFR readings - ie blood clotting disease (oh - and regardless of babies I am at a much higher risk of stroke or heart disease - in fact I think I am now classified as a risk. Nice) which means that my embryo's can't really take much gloopy blood from me - not that they would want it as its full of mutations - so therefore survival would be tough. Please know if you are reading this and have the same results that this bleak and poor synopsis has to be officially interpreted, but with the aid of Google, I am certainly aware of the pitfalls of the above. It's not looking good. However, as we know, I decided a while back that I would try and look at the positives not the negatives, and alongside each result in the chart was a treatment which would suggest that there could be something we could do. Honestly speaking, I am either in total denial or a bit simple, or indeed spot on, but I still believe our Dr UK IVF can help us and that we will have another baby. I have to think that - my resolve if I gave myself an inch of speculation would dissolve and I am not sure I could get it back. I am also so incredibly grateful that Dr UK IVF gently eased us towards having these tests done (they are eye wateringly expensive and I suppose if you get a negative report back one might feel inclined to think it was not money well spent. In our case I think it was the best two thousand pounds we ever spent), as if we had not and not embarked on the medication needed to try and over come the issues, our IVF attempts would have been undoubtedly unsuccessful.
I suppose where you find me at this actual time in my life is somewhat scared at my own mortality as well as my chances of having a baby. This journey was supposed to be about having babies, but now I find myself in a situation where I not only have to face the fact that this might not be possible, but that I have issues with my health that are not, how shall we say, inspiring. When one does receive bad news about ones health it does rather shake the emotions up and strange, over dramatic and probably entirely irrational thoughts do pop into the grey matter. Obviously I realise I am not going to die (one hopes that won't crop up in our chat with Dr UK IVF.....?) and these results do not in anyway suggest that, but as I said before, when you involve science in a medical process, you have to be prepared to not entirely like the results that are generally unequivocal. I thought our tests would show up at worst that both my husband and I had a Chromosomal problem and that we would need to screen our embryo's in a bid to find a good one, but instead not only do I keep having Chromosomal miscarriages it would seem that Chromosomes might not be the only reason - I am the not so proud owner of a body that rejects babies, which for one so desperate to have them seems rather cruel wouldn't you say? Mother Nature and I are officially back to no speaks.
I am trying really hard to keep it all together, not panic and keep sane. We did a family hike today which was stunning, and like our holiday, I enjoyed the company of both of my boys. I adore my boys. If that is what I have to settle for, it's not settling, it's an honour to have them both in my life and I am blessed to have them. Does it then make me a bad person for crying for what I want and feeling desperately unhappy? I'm really not sure. Today is not a good day. Lets hope tomorrow brings something a little more cheerful. In the mean time, my husband is cooking our first BBQ of the year, he bought me crisps to cheer me up, my baby is doing his first night in his big bed without a nappy and I am about to have a glass of wine. Sod the ban, there are times......
The long and the short of it is I have rather a lot of blood issues, that regardless of the Chromosomal abnormalities, mean no pregnancy can possibly survive in my current state (according to my husband I have to say here that this is still to be confirmed by an actual doctor and not just a nearly one. Pedantic if you ask me given the blood report but none the less...). My liver, kidney and protein are all excellent which came as a very welcome surprise, sadly I have a matching DQ a Genotype with my husband, which means basically we are damaging the embryo before it implants. Then I have 'Grossly Increased' TH1:TH2 Cytokine Ratio's - ie my own immune system is killing all embryo's as they limp along in a pregnancy. Add to that a Heterozygous mutation in my PAI-1 Polymorphism and MTHFR readings - ie blood clotting disease (oh - and regardless of babies I am at a much higher risk of stroke or heart disease - in fact I think I am now classified as a risk. Nice) which means that my embryo's can't really take much gloopy blood from me - not that they would want it as its full of mutations - so therefore survival would be tough. Please know if you are reading this and have the same results that this bleak and poor synopsis has to be officially interpreted, but with the aid of Google, I am certainly aware of the pitfalls of the above. It's not looking good. However, as we know, I decided a while back that I would try and look at the positives not the negatives, and alongside each result in the chart was a treatment which would suggest that there could be something we could do. Honestly speaking, I am either in total denial or a bit simple, or indeed spot on, but I still believe our Dr UK IVF can help us and that we will have another baby. I have to think that - my resolve if I gave myself an inch of speculation would dissolve and I am not sure I could get it back. I am also so incredibly grateful that Dr UK IVF gently eased us towards having these tests done (they are eye wateringly expensive and I suppose if you get a negative report back one might feel inclined to think it was not money well spent. In our case I think it was the best two thousand pounds we ever spent), as if we had not and not embarked on the medication needed to try and over come the issues, our IVF attempts would have been undoubtedly unsuccessful.
I suppose where you find me at this actual time in my life is somewhat scared at my own mortality as well as my chances of having a baby. This journey was supposed to be about having babies, but now I find myself in a situation where I not only have to face the fact that this might not be possible, but that I have issues with my health that are not, how shall we say, inspiring. When one does receive bad news about ones health it does rather shake the emotions up and strange, over dramatic and probably entirely irrational thoughts do pop into the grey matter. Obviously I realise I am not going to die (one hopes that won't crop up in our chat with Dr UK IVF.....?) and these results do not in anyway suggest that, but as I said before, when you involve science in a medical process, you have to be prepared to not entirely like the results that are generally unequivocal. I thought our tests would show up at worst that both my husband and I had a Chromosomal problem and that we would need to screen our embryo's in a bid to find a good one, but instead not only do I keep having Chromosomal miscarriages it would seem that Chromosomes might not be the only reason - I am the not so proud owner of a body that rejects babies, which for one so desperate to have them seems rather cruel wouldn't you say? Mother Nature and I are officially back to no speaks.
I am trying really hard to keep it all together, not panic and keep sane. We did a family hike today which was stunning, and like our holiday, I enjoyed the company of both of my boys. I adore my boys. If that is what I have to settle for, it's not settling, it's an honour to have them both in my life and I am blessed to have them. Does it then make me a bad person for crying for what I want and feeling desperately unhappy? I'm really not sure. Today is not a good day. Lets hope tomorrow brings something a little more cheerful. In the mean time, my husband is cooking our first BBQ of the year, he bought me crisps to cheer me up, my baby is doing his first night in his big bed without a nappy and I am about to have a glass of wine. Sod the ban, there are times......
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