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...

Worry worry worry, must be funny, in a sane man's world.

We got the drug protocol through last night - oh my goodness! A drug protocol is basically the list of drugs that I have to take, in what sequence and for how long. Long is the operative word - I actually can't tell you the amount of injections and pills I have to take as every time I add them up I miss some out and then have to start again but we are well over 200. Wow. I printed off all the information and my husband asked if I was printing the Yellow Pages - it certainly felt that way. I told him he had to read it and he went rather pale - he's still on page 2 of The Beano.
There is so much to take in that last night I went to bed totally overwhelmed and terrified - and obviously didn't sleep a wink. Seriously Mum, you are an amazing gardener and an incredibly good cook and a mean crossword fanatic - could you not have passed those skills on to me instead of your incredible ability to worry worry worry all through the night? I can neither garden nor cook but I can definitely whip your Worry Crown straight from your head. My latest fear is that I have calculated the dates wrong (anyone who knows me well will know that this is not an unfounded worry) and my timings will make everything fail. I have sent a very pleading e-mail to Dr UK IVF asking him to work it all out for me and basically take over as I just cannot bear the weight of responsibility. I think he may be regretting taking us on...
So anyway, in between worry which is taking up the vast percentage of my nights and Nocturnal Boy's activities (oh by the way, I think he peaked with his bad behaviour and he has been absolutely adorable since Saturday so we have revised our thinking and we most definitely want another one of him please) I am quite tired. But I have come up with a new take on this and actually think my old sparring partner Mother Nature is doing me a favour. I think she is preparing me for a new-born. I had quite forgotten the depravity that came with sleepless nights, but she has given me the perfect insight over the past few weeks and while I think she could have waited until I was actually pregnant before this little insight, I can see the logic. Tongue is firmly in cheek.
Anyway, tiredness aside, I have in black and white a prescription on my desk waiting to be taken to the Doctors and a bucket load of pills and syringes to pick up, it's really actually, definitely, completely happening!!
I'm nervous about the amount of hormones and steroids that will be coursing through my veins, but more nervous for those around me than myself, bad luck. I am a little less than excited about the intralipid infusion (to lower my immune system) that apparently takes over 2 hours, but I can at least have it at Mum and Dad's while catching up with Neighbours and Home and Away. All in all it could be a lot worse in terms of medical punishment and frankly, if there is a chance it will work, I would do it all ten times over.
Yes, I think its fair to say that while I am single handedly sending myself grey with this ludicrous and totally time wasting worry, I am very very excited and looking forward to the next step. I have a couple of weeks to wait and then I should have a bottom like a pin cushion (makes a change from orange peel), facial hair to rival Brian Blessed and maybe even the voice to match. My husband can't wait...

Sweet Dreams?

I can safely say this week has been probably one of the most up and down in terms of emotional roller coaster. Having had the green light to go ahead with IVF, we were on a major high. It was actually palpable, for an evening my shoulders certainly felt lighter. I went to bed with such high hopes and excitement and a little bit of disbelief that it was actually about to happen. However, that night I had one of the worse nights sleep ever as I tossed and turned worrying about everything and anything. I am not sure how manage to find so much to worry about, but I do. I suppose I replaced the milestone of reaching one hurdle with that of another and all it's pitfalls. So on Wednesday the dreams and worry went something like this: What if they can't find any eggs? What if they can find eggs but they don't implant? What if I die on the operating table as they are harvesting the eggs - that really would make it all rather pointless (yes I realise a ludicrous thought but you try being me and my mind at 4am). Honestly I think I am a nut job at times, why can't I just see things on face value, enjoy the moment and worry about the rest as and when it happens? I suppose this is another layer of my impulsive obsessive nature and also entirely my mothers fault as she has done this night time worrying for years. Anyway the nights sleep was also dramatically reduced by the insistent and thoroughly irritating demands of our son. He is currently in the 'I won't sleep in my bed' phase - which basically means he is up all night, as am I. I am so sleep deprived and fed up of the situation that I have actually told my husband we are completely mad to go ahead with IVF, how could I POSSIBLY cope with number 2 or 3? Because my husband could sleep through the Blitz, he can't quite see the problem. I have explained it to him, several times, I think he got the hint when my eyes started rolling and I resembled a demented horse suffering from colic. As the gangsters would say, 'nuff said.
So here we are now, tired, irritable, me slightly crazed, and generally a bit battered and bruised. We can't even drown our sleep deprived sorrows in booze as we are on the wagon for the foreseeable (for me hopefully for a year or so....). I've been hiking daily to build up the strength to carry a baby and lose the horrible miscarriage weight, eating like a Hollywood actress (slightly bigger portions and I don't think we need to count last nights ribs and chips...small glitch) and generally leading a healthier life. I'm making firm plans for our trip, and this week I should get my drug protocol and we're off. Ooooo it's really scary and more than a lot exciting.
I'm keeping this short as the boys have gone to the supermarket and I want to be firmly in situ, hiding in our bedroom when they get back. I think an hour of catching up on the Archers is definitely what this Nearly Doctor prescribes...

GREEN IS FOR GO!!!

Can't write anymore - am too busy crying.

No news is good news...

...although it would be nice to hear all is well. We have still not heard from Dr UK IVF if the Hysteroscopy was ok, and the waiting is pretty unbearable. It reminds me of the 2 week wait between fertile days and pregnancy tests - trying to keep one's mind off the matter in hand always as the opposite effect or costs a fortune in shopping bills. However I have heard being nervous burns off calories. Every cloud and all that.  Still, trying to be rational and not my usual impatient self, Dr UK IVF has patients to see other than me (strange concept it not being all about me - rather a drag actually - I much prefer it when I am on the radar) and is probably very busy making lots of little test tube babies so I can forgive this momentary lapse in communication. So, the bubbles stay on ice but I may just open the tonic to go with a gin tonight and soothe the nerves.

Turning the corner

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.

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!