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.