And it's goodbye from me...

Well, what a day. It's time to wish the old me goodbye because as of tomorrow morning at 7am, I'm going to become a different person entirely.



Went to see the consultant today and she said our IVF treatment could be brought forward and that due to my medical problems, we could start IVF early.



Very early.



Tomorrow in fact!



We therefore had a rather gruelling demo of all the injections I have to give myself and a scary horror film of a description in which I was to become the lovechild of Hannibal Lechter and the girl from Poltergeist. Apparently the side effects of the drugs I'm about to start are not dissimilar to a complete head transplant - so much so in fact that when I asked "Does Tom need to attend every appointment with me as we're a bit worried cause he works away a lot" the response was... "It's probably going to be a good thing that he's away..."



Great.



I am about to become some needle wielding nutjob with all the stability of an axe murderer on acid. I had the symptoms described as feeling like "an alien has taken over your body" and when I asked if it was just like normal PMT x a thousand was very unreassured to hear that it was not. Apparently this is because your own PMT is caused by hormones your own body makes; the IVF drugs are made in a factory and have never been in a human so it won't feel like you.



Tom kept making jokes all the way through to chivvy me on but got pretty short shrift off the nurse. According to her, ribbing someone and making sarcastic little jokes is likely to tip them over the edge and Tom actually got a real telling off! Looks like I'm doomed then cause my boss is the biggest wind up merchant in the world, my family are a total bunch of comedians and Tom wins the European prize for sarcasm. I'm screwed.



I am now a proud owner of a small suitcase of drugs, needles, a sharps bin and a self administration injection device thing. I look like the world's most organised smackhead. I must admit, the whole thing was a complete shock and I held it together until about half an hour ago when I came round to see Mum and Dad and just collapsed in a rather snivelly heap on the sofa.



I am, as they say in the trade, shit scared.



I was all set for starting in February but apparently we need to strike whilst the ovary's hot and get cracking with my eggs ASAP. I am the equivalent of a McDonald's egg McMuffin - fast food made in moments and makes you slightly sick.



The good news was though that I went back to school and broke the news to all the staff. I explained how if I turned into a hormonal, screaming maniac who burst into tears over nothing every 5 minutes then they were to turn a blind eye. They were all so lovely and supportive and I've had more hugs and well wishes today than when ST left! My favourite comment was from a very very young male member of the teaching staff who shouted "Congratulations!" and then was silenced when I said "Yes, congratulations on being infertile" and my boss shouted "Dig yourself out of that one then my boy!" and it took ages for my little male colleague to realise we were winding him up! Poor soul, he looked so embarrassed.

Anyway, the upshot is that all the staff now know and are battoning down the hatches, pulling on the tin helmets and awaiting the onslaught. My lovely teaching assistant simply said, "I'll stock the back room cupboard with chocolate for you; I shan't tell anyone else where I've hidden it but you just let me know when you need it"... Bless her.

Sorry for the random nature now but Mum just called me outside. She was whooping with excitment shouting, "It's an omen!". Outside my parents' house is the village green and it has 3 huge oak trees. Normally the council don't decorate the green but just now, and for the first time in living memory, the 3 trees are hung with hundreds of fairy lights! The street is now all twinkly and lovely. Mum is convinced it's a sign that the IVF will work. I am convinced it is a sign that my dad will be complaining about paying for lights with his council tax and moaning about them by the end of the week.

However, Christmas will be a busy old time for us this year. My provisional date for embryo transfer is 16th December as long as I respond to the drugs and they can harvest some eggs. If I don't respond then it'll be 21st December. Eitherway there'll be a two week wait after those dates to see if I have a lovely Christmas present or not. The downside is that all over Christmas and New Year I can't really have a drink. A small price to pay I know for the potential of a baby and family but not so great when you think there's only a 27% chance the whole process will work! I actually had a glass of Vana Tallinn last night and Tom was ribbing me today that he hoped I enjoyed it as all being well, it could have been my last drink for the next 10 months.

Anyway, am going to sign off for now. So, when things get a bit mental over the next few weeks or so and I turn into a raging maniac, hopefully I'll remember that I'm still in here somewhere!

Lots of love in the meantime.

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