IF and the City

I used to feel sad when I watched the episodes with Charlotte failing over and over again while trying to get pregnant. Little did I know that my own attempts would lead me on the same sad journey. We've now passed 4 years in the trenches. 6 failed IVF/ICSI cycles = nothing. Time for something new - donor eggs. Success at last. Now for round 2.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Cold and Chilly

‘You’re very compact’ my Ob. Advised.

‘That’s good’, he followed up with. ‘It means you’ve got a good metabolism, you haven’t put on much weight so far, and you’ve got the biggest growth period coming up (34-38 weeks)’.

‘Doctor – all-day, every-day people talk to me about my size – they all keep saying ‘you’re all baby’.

‘Yes, they’re right, are you worried about anything’.

‘Hmmmm ... well - if I’m very compact – do I have enough amniotic fluid?’

‘Yes, but I may do a scan at 36 weeks, just to check everything is good, but actually I couldn’t be happier with you’.

He also advised we were no longer in ‘breech’ position. Eek, that word! Two weeks ago when he told Mr. S if he put his hand just above the belly button he could feel the head it seemed cute. I wasn’t thinking ‘Breech’ = scene from a cottage in a medieval village with a large ruddy faced midwife calling for towels and not looking anyone in the eye!

Meanwhile my cold took a firm hold (sorry), after more time off work, staying home, staying warm, drinking lots of fluids for 4 straight days and feeling no better, I went back to the doctor.

‘Well you’re doing all the right things, but I think now it’s time to take some anti-biotics and start knocking these infections over’.

‘No worries’.

Seriously, if the solution had been pigs blood I would’ve had the same response.

Three weekends housebound, numerous time off work, I’ve got to start feeling better.

It’s no surprise - conditions for the ‘perfect storm’ as they say – sad emotional times mixed with the coldest winter in 50 years (apparently) collide perfectly.

It’s always the same with me – my emotional state being linked so closely with my health.

‘Of course it’s no surprise’ echoed my kinesiologist. ‘This is bacterial, not viral’, ‘yeah good’ I thought. She did some work on my current emotional blockages – sadness and anger, as well as trying to clear thru all the bacteria. ‘Two or three days’ was her verdict.

Great, look forward to it.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Moving On

It’s been a week since my dad’s funeral.

Unfortunately all the well-intended advice was true. When he did eventually pass away, it was a horrible shock. I never believed that something we had been anticipating for more than 8 weeks could still be a shock. The only thing I can think of is that life adapts along the way into a strange place where terminal illness becomes part of everyday life. Then it ends and there’s nothing there to take it’s place.

A funeral is a great farewell – sad and sometimes hard – a necessary moment in time.

Then life goes on.

This isn’t a concept any of us are unfamiliar with – those ‘us’ that have been dealing with IF and the wretchedness that often accompanies failed cycles and miscarriage/s – while life rolls merrily along for everyone else.

Both Mr. S and I also managed to pick up stinking colds along the way, so that our days on return were spent staring at Wimble.don match replays.

A surprise at my recent Ob appt. – ‘no weight gain this month’ the nurse said.

I really think she’s reading the scales wrong – I don’t think she waits for the needle to stop moving.

On the other hand, I’ve never really been sure about my weight in recent years due to back to back IVF cycles. So what my real starting weight was is somewhere within 2-3 kilos.

‘It’s not a problem’ the doctor reassured me ‘as long as the bump is growing’.

Okay then.

Because it is.