Just to let you know ladies that the surgery went fine today. Will update in a bit more detail tomorrow but feel a bit out of it still today.
Apparently they got 21 eggs.
yes.
twenty bloody one!
No wonder i was feeling a bit ropey. I heard the lady next door only got 13 and the woman the other side just two.
I am officially twenty one!!!!!!
My eggs are currently in the hands of the embryologists and we'll hear tomorrow by half eleven whether any have fertilised at all so fingers crossed.
I am still laughing about what happened when Tom had to produce his "sample" in the designated room. He returned to my room as white as a sheet afterwards and I nearly didn't need the surgery to retrieve my eggs as i howled so much in hysterical laughter that I could have shot my eggs all over the room. He swears he never wants to mention it ever again but I can't stop giggling. I am in danger of being on the receiving end of a dead arm soon I think....
So, keep your fingers crossed for tomorrow for me and send me some "Fertilisation dust" over the internet tonight if you get a chance.
Thanks again for all your good wishes and for the Xmas cards I've had too!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Monday, 21 December 2009
Friday, 18 December 2009
Oh what a week...
Crikey. I am shattered.
I am utterly, totally, completely and absolutely
SHATTERED!!!
I can honestly say that I have never had such a rollercoaster of a week. I have been up and down more times than a Blackpool rollercoaster and I am still cowering behind the sofa after the events of last night.
I apologise if this turns into huge post but there's just been so much happening.
In a nutshell, the IVF has been a rocky road to say the least. Every time I have made the dawn trip into town to the ACU clinic I have pretty much only had bad news. To be honest, I still don't understand it myself. Basically there's two things that they measure on your trips in. They measure your blood hormone levels and they also do a scan to count your eggs and check on the size of them to see how many you have and if they're growing correctly ready for collection.
Now, as is seemingly the way with everything I do, things have not gone smoothly. I do not so much have the Midas touch where everything turns to gold as the "shit touch" where everything turns to complete toilet.
As I have mentioned before, I am unsure of my exact parentage because, due to the amount of eggs I am producing, I think I am somehow genetically linked to a hen. In fact, I am going on Jeremy Kyle soon with Bernard Matthews and his farm birds to get a DNA test done as I don't believe a human could produce as many eggs as me without some sort of connection to poultry in their history.
I currently have 28 eggs. Yes, 28. Instead of the usual 16 or so they expect, I have produced enough to make an omlette for a rugby team. This in itself is a worry as it puts me in the bracket for the dreaded OHSS but also my hormones have decided to do their own orbit of the earth by shooting sky high and then rocketing back down to earth on a regular basis. The hospital have been trying to stabilise it so that they can ensure that the hormone levels are high enough to encourage eggs to mature, but not so high that is puts me in the OHSS bracket. I have had my medications changed every single time I've been in and am now on none at all as my body seems to be growing the damn things with no intervention now. I am officially a hen/incubator!
I've been on a knife edge all week as they didn't know whether or not they would have to abandon the whole procedure as 28 eggs is apparently far too many. (you're telling me - I already feel pregnant with quads!)
If the eggs kept growing but the hormone level settled then they said they'd go ahead with egg collection. If the hormone levels shot up and the eggs kept on growing then we'd have to abandon the treatment.
So, it's been a game of hormonal cat and mouse where my meds have been adjusted every day to try and tweak the levels perfectly. It appears (and here's one for the CV ladies), that although I am 34, I have the ovaries of a 25 year old and they've basically gone into overdrive with all the medical interference. I can now write on my CV... Emma T, BSc Hons, QTS, NPQH - ovarian function of a twentysomething. Fair brings a lump to your throat doesn't it!
The upshot is that we are definitely going ahead with collection on Monday so it's feet in the stirrups for some degrading surgery first thing on Monday morning. However, they don't know if they'll go ahead with the embryo transfer on Wednesday as they may need to do a "freeze all". This basically means that my little embryos will spend their Christmas in the deep freeze and I'll be given time to get over the OHSS which would be triggered by egg collection.
This means that if we do a "freeze all" then I'd be poorly all over Christmas with the OHSS and we'd have to wait a couple of months to put the embryos back in so please please please keep your fingers crossed for me for Monday that they go ahead with the implantation.
I currently look like madwoman as I keep shouting at my nethers to stop growing. This is OK in your own home but when you are mumbling to them as they give another twinge in the bread aisle of Tesco then it can get you some funny looks.
I am also freezing cold at the moment thanks to the "mystery of the back door." This is not some weird famous five type adventure story but is a complete and utter unfathomable event.
I met my friend at the pub last night for a non alcoholic toast to the end of term. When I got in, there was a terrible draught coming in the kitchen door as it's so badly fitted. So, I had a brainwave, got up a ladder and nailed a blanket to the doorframe. Yes, whilst pumped up on drugs with a swollen spacehopper of a tummy and impending surgery, I decided to do a few impromptu home improvements. You see, Tom is away a lot this weekend so I needed to ensure the house was all cosy. I then went and watched TV for a couple of hours but was so cold that I didn't even take my coat off.
At about half ten I decided to go to bed so went round turning all the lights off. I then found something utterly weird.
The back door was wide open and so was the door I'd locked and nailed the blanket to...
There is no way in the world I ever leave doors open as I'm such a scaredy cat and they weren't just ajar, they were completey flat against the walls so no wonder downstairs was so cold!
I of course, remained calm and didn't fly into a complete panic.
Did I heck!
I grabbed a kitchen knife and started tiptoeing round the whole of the downstairs flinging doors and cupboards open and yelling. (Quite why I opened the fridge and washing machine and did this I haven't quite fathomed yet...)
I then lost the initial adrenaline buzz and had to phone my dad. He said he'd come down and have a look but then I felt like complete baby and so told him I'd be fine. Besides, my laptop, i-pod, stereo and handbag were near the kitchen door and hadn't been nicked so there couldn't have been anyone in the house unless it was actually a blind burglar.
So, i went up to bed but couldn't find my childhood teddy. This then really freaked me out as he always sits on the chest of drawers by my bed.
By this point I was thinking all sorts of mad things. As it's my anniversary on Monday, I was convinced that ST had somehow kept a set of keys to my house,crept in and stolen the one thing that I loved more than anything and couldn't replace or the one thing that would indicate that it must have been him in the house.
I then rang Tom and started getting in a right panic and made him stay on the phone as I checked upstairs everywhere. The airing cupboard was clear of burglars or crazed ex husbands as was under the beds and in the loft. So, thankfully I managed to get into bed and then find that Tom had made the bed and put the bear in it so it hadn't been stolen as a psycho token by a deranged ex. God I watch too much TV!!!
I still haven't worked out though how the back doors were wide open when I know I'd locked them and nailed them shut though. All very odd.
The wide open back doors have not helped my fridge of a house to keep warm though. It's already like a training regime for Ben Fogle's Arctic expeditions in here and so flinging the doors wide open to temperatures of minus three has not helped warm things up. I actually slept in pjyamas underneath a tracksuit, ski socks, my dressing gown, a blanket round my shoulders, a scarf, woolly hat and two duvets last night. You could actually see your breath in the air this morning as it was so cold. So, advice to anyone, do not live in a period property if you don't like the cold. I think the Victorians enjoyed mild frostbite and so constructed their houses to ensure maximum draughts. I have even had the plumber round to move the radiator in the lounge this week to try and warm things up a bit but you could still ice skate on my coffee table it's that cold.
Anyway, am meant to be having a quiet day today but have got to clean the house and sort out a million last minute jobs before surgery on Monday. I've basically got to ensure that everything is sorted for Christmas as hopefully I'll be out of action and incubating an embryo whilst tucking into my tukey this year!
So, it's off with the 47 layers of clothes, on with the rubber gloves and pinny and try to get this house looking twinkly and sparkly clean.
I'll sign off for now though and just once again say thanks for all your good wishes. It's been a hell of an emotional week and they really do help me along the way.
Lots of love in the meantime. Will update again very soon.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
P.S that's not my egg in the photo!
Saturday, 12 December 2009
I knew it...
Well, guess who had a phone call from the consultant yesterday evening?
Yes, me.
One of the fertility nurses phoned me at 5pm last night to say that my blood tests had come back and one of the indicators was too high. She also said that the consultant had looked at my egg scans and was not happy about the number of eggs as there were way too many.
Seems I'm a very likely candidate for OHSS (Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome) and as a result I've had to lower my dose of the stimulating hormone immediately as apparently it can be fatal. (nice thought)
I'm now on 2 powders of Menopur injections per evening instead of 3. I've got to do this until I go for some more blood tests and another scan on Monday. If there's no change, this round of IVF will be abandoned as it will be too dangerous for me to continue.
This would mean that all the injections and work so far would have been for nothing.
I'm gutted.
Apparently there's lots of good sized eggs but also lots of tiny ones. If the tiny ones carry on growing then it'll be really dangerous. If they stay as they are then I'll be OK and we can continue. However, I just feel that something is very wrong as I'm so dizzy and still feeling and being really sick.
I also had the mother of all rows with Tom this morning which culminated in me throwing a book at him. He announced this morning that he really wanted to go to the football. This is after he's worked away all week, he's working all day tomorrow and is away most of next week. Today was the only real day we would get together for a while and the sod wanted to go to football. I freaked out and had a huge crying fit and hurled the first thing at him that I could find, which was a book.
However, the irony of the hurling was that I had thrown a Jeremy Kyle book at him! So, the king of domestic ranting and problem solving was spinning through the air and almost hit Tom square in the chops. I sobbed under the duvet for about half an hour, threw up again and then realised I was being a twat.
These hormones really do knock you about I can tell you.
We've since been to buy a Christmas tree each and have spent the last hour hacking at the one I chose with Dad's saw whilst Tom sat on it on a stool to try and keep it still. It looked like some sort of festive rodeo. I had somehow selected a 7 foot tree with a 9 foot wide trunk so Tom's been sweating like mad trying to whittle it down to fit in the holder. It will currently only stand up if you wedge a broom handle underneath it so I have a beautifully decorated tree with a white plastic broom handle sticking out from the base and tripping up anyone who wants a closer look. I also think we've bent Dad's saw in our Christmas tree Wild West Rodeo so he'll not be too happy either. (hell hath no fury like a dad with a bent tool...)
Tom's now nipped home to get changed for the annual Estonian Christmas meal and carol concert. We will therefore no doubt be watching the X Factor final through a fug of sauerkraut induced wind. Delightful.
Will update again on Monday to let you know if the treatment is continuing or if we have to abandon this round. I feel absolutely shattered both mentally, physically and emotionally at the moment so I just can't wait to know for certain what's going on. Trust me to produce so many bloomin eggs.
So, love in the meantime. Please keep your fingers crossed for me on Monday. I can't believe we may have got this far only to have it snatched away from us.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
P.S On a lighter note... Olly to win!!!!
Yes, me.
One of the fertility nurses phoned me at 5pm last night to say that my blood tests had come back and one of the indicators was too high. She also said that the consultant had looked at my egg scans and was not happy about the number of eggs as there were way too many.
Seems I'm a very likely candidate for OHSS (Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome) and as a result I've had to lower my dose of the stimulating hormone immediately as apparently it can be fatal. (nice thought)
I'm now on 2 powders of Menopur injections per evening instead of 3. I've got to do this until I go for some more blood tests and another scan on Monday. If there's no change, this round of IVF will be abandoned as it will be too dangerous for me to continue.
This would mean that all the injections and work so far would have been for nothing.
I'm gutted.
Apparently there's lots of good sized eggs but also lots of tiny ones. If the tiny ones carry on growing then it'll be really dangerous. If they stay as they are then I'll be OK and we can continue. However, I just feel that something is very wrong as I'm so dizzy and still feeling and being really sick.
I also had the mother of all rows with Tom this morning which culminated in me throwing a book at him. He announced this morning that he really wanted to go to the football. This is after he's worked away all week, he's working all day tomorrow and is away most of next week. Today was the only real day we would get together for a while and the sod wanted to go to football. I freaked out and had a huge crying fit and hurled the first thing at him that I could find, which was a book.
However, the irony of the hurling was that I had thrown a Jeremy Kyle book at him! So, the king of domestic ranting and problem solving was spinning through the air and almost hit Tom square in the chops. I sobbed under the duvet for about half an hour, threw up again and then realised I was being a twat.
These hormones really do knock you about I can tell you.
We've since been to buy a Christmas tree each and have spent the last hour hacking at the one I chose with Dad's saw whilst Tom sat on it on a stool to try and keep it still. It looked like some sort of festive rodeo. I had somehow selected a 7 foot tree with a 9 foot wide trunk so Tom's been sweating like mad trying to whittle it down to fit in the holder. It will currently only stand up if you wedge a broom handle underneath it so I have a beautifully decorated tree with a white plastic broom handle sticking out from the base and tripping up anyone who wants a closer look. I also think we've bent Dad's saw in our Christmas tree Wild West Rodeo so he'll not be too happy either. (hell hath no fury like a dad with a bent tool...)
Tom's now nipped home to get changed for the annual Estonian Christmas meal and carol concert. We will therefore no doubt be watching the X Factor final through a fug of sauerkraut induced wind. Delightful.
Will update again on Monday to let you know if the treatment is continuing or if we have to abandon this round. I feel absolutely shattered both mentally, physically and emotionally at the moment so I just can't wait to know for certain what's going on. Trust me to produce so many bloomin eggs.
So, love in the meantime. Please keep your fingers crossed for me on Monday. I can't believe we may have got this far only to have it snatched away from us.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
P.S On a lighter note... Olly to win!!!!
Friday, 11 December 2009
Half psychopath, half hen...
That's me folks... half psycopath, half hen.
Long story.
Last night my lovely Tom went out on the razzle dazzle for yet another work's do (damn the pub trade and all their revelrie!) I was like Cinderella at home feeling all sorry for myself as I jabbed yet more drugs into myself, avoided alcohol and generally felt like poo. I feel constantly sick and can't eat a thing. I think I'm the only person on the earth to actually lose half a stone whilst going through IVF. I simply can't eat without retching and I feel awful as a result.
Now, Tom and I have an agreement. He knows that as ST used to emotionally bully me, disappear into the night, drink himself into stupors, get violent and generally be vile to me whenever there was drink involved, Tom knows to keep me informed and let me know he's OK when he's out drinking. This is especially important during my IVF as I am now starting to feel a little emotionally "wobbly". It's the same sort of anxiety feeling you get if somone turns on the lights suddenly when you're asleep, a sort of "Oh God, what's that? Oh it's OK, I'm in my bedroom but God that gave me a fright" kind of feeling. It's very weird and I just feel anxiously on edge all the time. Therefore, my lovely Tom telling me he'll ring at 9.30 and then not calling at all whilst I know he's boozed up with a load of nubile (not to mention fertile) barmaids at a lovely party whilst I just sit at home and pump myself full of drugs is a bit of a recipe for disaster. However, he did send a text at 2.30am.
Yes folks, 2.30am. This was after he had promised to call and 9.30 and to make matters worse, I called him as soon as I got the text but there was no answer. Now, ordinarily (and in the cold light of day) you assume that the person has fallen asleep. But, in a fog of hormones and in the depth of the night, you assume he is lying about where he is and whip yourself up in to a storm.
By 3am I had convinced myself he was leaving me for a woman as fertile as a queen bee and I was pumping myself full of drugs whilst he partied with her into the wee small hours. I eventually phoned my mum as I was borderline hysterical with the hormones and couldn't stop being sick. She came round and sat up with me all night whilst I veered between retching and sobbing. Good old mum.
Eventually I calmed down but had no sleep at all. Not good when you have to teach the next day.
However, my mum came with me to my appointment at the hospital today and it was nice to have company as I usually have to go on my own as Tom's away so much. But I made a small error in taking her for a coffee as we were early. We got into town at 7am and our appointment wasn't until close to 8am. My mum confused a cappucino with an espresso and so was bouncing off the flippin clinic walls when we did get in there. I remarked that I didn't know she liked espresso and she replied, "Well I didn't like that one; it didn't have any frothy milk in it..."
I had my scan though and it's a bit of a mixed bag.
Apparently at this stage the normal number of eggs to be developing is between 8 and 10. I am officially a battery hen as when I asked the nurse, "So how many do I have?" and got the reply "14" I was initially pleased. She then added, "on this side".
Jesus. I have almost double the number of eggs for one whole person on just one ovary!
Strangely there were exactly 14 on the other side too so I have a grand total of 28 eggs developing at the moment. They're at size "4 to 8" at the moment whatever that means but apparently it's good.
The bad news is that they are a little concerned that there's simply too many. I'm waiting for the consultant to call me back today as the nurse wanted to discuss with her if I'm actually at risk of the dreaded OHSS. Apparently they can't say for definite at the moment as it's too early but if I keep popping out eggs like a sturgeon making caviar then I may be on a bit of a sticky wicket. They'll have the definitive answer by my scans on Monday apparently and I'll know by half six tonight if I need to tweak my medication. It turns out I'm on the lowest dose possible at the moment but they don't like my weight loss or the vomiting so they're looking into maybe reducing the dose.
So, I am officially a hen.
If nothing else in my life then I appear to be a champion at making eggs. Half psycho then, half hen. Nice combo.
My poor mum got a little confused then and shouted, (in a haze of espresso), "But I only wanted 1 grandchild; I don't think I can cope with 28!" I reminded her that I am not some kind of cat who will have a litter of babies but that these are just the eggs developing.
Have been teaching at school all day but am absolutely exhausted after no sleep. Just going to crawl home and go straight to bed and await a hungover Tom who I still feel needs a clonk over the head. That's twice since we started this treatment that he's gone AWOL on the booze when the clinic staff have all said that his priority should be keeping me calm. I'm no pampered princess but it is a little upsetting to be three sheets to the wind on a gallon of hormones and have your other half at the other end of the country out on the lash.
Bloomin men.
Anyway, am off to incubate another dozen eggs now. Hopefully they'll confirm on Monday that I'm not in danger of OHSS and we can press on with the process.
Thanks again for all your well wishes and in the meantime, if you see a middle aged lady, power walking in a Barbour whilst buying 28 babygros, you know it's only my espresso fuelled mother.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Long story.
Last night my lovely Tom went out on the razzle dazzle for yet another work's do (damn the pub trade and all their revelrie!) I was like Cinderella at home feeling all sorry for myself as I jabbed yet more drugs into myself, avoided alcohol and generally felt like poo. I feel constantly sick and can't eat a thing. I think I'm the only person on the earth to actually lose half a stone whilst going through IVF. I simply can't eat without retching and I feel awful as a result.
Now, Tom and I have an agreement. He knows that as ST used to emotionally bully me, disappear into the night, drink himself into stupors, get violent and generally be vile to me whenever there was drink involved, Tom knows to keep me informed and let me know he's OK when he's out drinking. This is especially important during my IVF as I am now starting to feel a little emotionally "wobbly". It's the same sort of anxiety feeling you get if somone turns on the lights suddenly when you're asleep, a sort of "Oh God, what's that? Oh it's OK, I'm in my bedroom but God that gave me a fright" kind of feeling. It's very weird and I just feel anxiously on edge all the time. Therefore, my lovely Tom telling me he'll ring at 9.30 and then not calling at all whilst I know he's boozed up with a load of nubile (not to mention fertile) barmaids at a lovely party whilst I just sit at home and pump myself full of drugs is a bit of a recipe for disaster. However, he did send a text at 2.30am.
Yes folks, 2.30am. This was after he had promised to call and 9.30 and to make matters worse, I called him as soon as I got the text but there was no answer. Now, ordinarily (and in the cold light of day) you assume that the person has fallen asleep. But, in a fog of hormones and in the depth of the night, you assume he is lying about where he is and whip yourself up in to a storm.
By 3am I had convinced myself he was leaving me for a woman as fertile as a queen bee and I was pumping myself full of drugs whilst he partied with her into the wee small hours. I eventually phoned my mum as I was borderline hysterical with the hormones and couldn't stop being sick. She came round and sat up with me all night whilst I veered between retching and sobbing. Good old mum.
Eventually I calmed down but had no sleep at all. Not good when you have to teach the next day.
However, my mum came with me to my appointment at the hospital today and it was nice to have company as I usually have to go on my own as Tom's away so much. But I made a small error in taking her for a coffee as we were early. We got into town at 7am and our appointment wasn't until close to 8am. My mum confused a cappucino with an espresso and so was bouncing off the flippin clinic walls when we did get in there. I remarked that I didn't know she liked espresso and she replied, "Well I didn't like that one; it didn't have any frothy milk in it..."
I had my scan though and it's a bit of a mixed bag.
Apparently at this stage the normal number of eggs to be developing is between 8 and 10. I am officially a battery hen as when I asked the nurse, "So how many do I have?" and got the reply "14" I was initially pleased. She then added, "on this side".
Jesus. I have almost double the number of eggs for one whole person on just one ovary!
Strangely there were exactly 14 on the other side too so I have a grand total of 28 eggs developing at the moment. They're at size "4 to 8" at the moment whatever that means but apparently it's good.
The bad news is that they are a little concerned that there's simply too many. I'm waiting for the consultant to call me back today as the nurse wanted to discuss with her if I'm actually at risk of the dreaded OHSS. Apparently they can't say for definite at the moment as it's too early but if I keep popping out eggs like a sturgeon making caviar then I may be on a bit of a sticky wicket. They'll have the definitive answer by my scans on Monday apparently and I'll know by half six tonight if I need to tweak my medication. It turns out I'm on the lowest dose possible at the moment but they don't like my weight loss or the vomiting so they're looking into maybe reducing the dose.
So, I am officially a hen.
If nothing else in my life then I appear to be a champion at making eggs. Half psycho then, half hen. Nice combo.
My poor mum got a little confused then and shouted, (in a haze of espresso), "But I only wanted 1 grandchild; I don't think I can cope with 28!" I reminded her that I am not some kind of cat who will have a litter of babies but that these are just the eggs developing.
Have been teaching at school all day but am absolutely exhausted after no sleep. Just going to crawl home and go straight to bed and await a hungover Tom who I still feel needs a clonk over the head. That's twice since we started this treatment that he's gone AWOL on the booze when the clinic staff have all said that his priority should be keeping me calm. I'm no pampered princess but it is a little upsetting to be three sheets to the wind on a gallon of hormones and have your other half at the other end of the country out on the lash.
Bloomin men.
Anyway, am off to incubate another dozen eggs now. Hopefully they'll confirm on Monday that I'm not in danger of OHSS and we can press on with the process.
Thanks again for all your well wishes and in the meantime, if you see a middle aged lady, power walking in a Barbour whilst buying 28 babygros, you know it's only my espresso fuelled mother.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
OK panic over...
Kittymama, I was worried too; you seem to have read my mind!
When the fertility nurse gave me my theatre and drug schedule there were notices all over the clinic to say that the last theatre dates were the 21st December. I must have asked her twenty times to confirm that the transfer would not be in theatre as I was panicking that someone had overlooked the fact that I might be all primed with fertilised embryos but everyone packed up and gone home for Christmas before my transfer date!
I also must have chewed Tom's ear off a million times about the fact it's only two days between harvesting and transfer so I finally gave in today and phoned the clinic AGAIN! (They must be so sick of me.)
Apparently 5 days is for blastocyst transfer only and they're not going to grow mine to blastocyst stage this round - why I don't know. 3 Days is the norm and apparently I have a clinic slot booked for either 23rd December transfer or if they're not mature enough, they'll do it on the 24th. I've being "harvested" (yuck) in the first theatre slot at 7.45am on the 21st to give plenty of time for them to mature before the afternoon of the 23rd. If they're not ready, I'll be being implanted just as everyone clocks off for Christmas and on my actual Estonian Christmas day. Nothing's ever simple is it???
I do feel better today though and already feel a little brighter. It must have been a lot of that flu getting me down. I am going to bed at between 8.30 and 9pm in the evening at the moment so I have the social life of a 7 year old. Rock and roll.
Lovely Tom came home last night with a big box of Lindt Lindor White chocolates (my fave) as he's been so worried about me over the last few days and to wish me luck for the start of my Menopur injections. He is so lovely but still can't bear to be in the same room as me when I inject; if he's around he sort of shouts encouragement from behind the door!
Gosh that was tricky though with those new drugs! I felt like some sort of amateur mad scientist as I had to mix three little bottles of powder with one little bottle of water then switch needles and inject. My coffee table looked like Dumbledore's lab. I now have two cases of drugs, needles and sharps bins and all my remaining drugs are being delivered to work tomorrow. Everyone in the office is on red alert as some of it has to be refrigerated as soon as it arrives so it would be just my luck for my delivery to get dumped with the pile of newly delivered photocopy paper and forgotten about. So, the office team is primed and briefed and ready to swing into action as soon as all my drugs arrive so that I can make a dash for the fridge and wedge in the Pregnyl drug alongside everyone's lunch. Hormone sandwich anyone???
Oh, big news too...
I'm brunette! Well, actually I am now officially a mouse as I have ditched the blonde and gone to more of a dark ash blonde which is more my natural colour. So, I have kissed goodbye to the high lift tint and embraced the lowlights. Will try and post a pic soon but I still look so ropey from my cold that I am avoiding all photographic opportunites until my face stops looking as if someone has grated my lips and nose. Nice.
Anyway, just wanted to vent my over anxious brain again on here. Thanks Kittymama for giving me the excuse to contact the clinic again. I really have been stewing over it! You're a star.
Love to everyone in the meantime.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
When the fertility nurse gave me my theatre and drug schedule there were notices all over the clinic to say that the last theatre dates were the 21st December. I must have asked her twenty times to confirm that the transfer would not be in theatre as I was panicking that someone had overlooked the fact that I might be all primed with fertilised embryos but everyone packed up and gone home for Christmas before my transfer date!
I also must have chewed Tom's ear off a million times about the fact it's only two days between harvesting and transfer so I finally gave in today and phoned the clinic AGAIN! (They must be so sick of me.)
Apparently 5 days is for blastocyst transfer only and they're not going to grow mine to blastocyst stage this round - why I don't know. 3 Days is the norm and apparently I have a clinic slot booked for either 23rd December transfer or if they're not mature enough, they'll do it on the 24th. I've being "harvested" (yuck) in the first theatre slot at 7.45am on the 21st to give plenty of time for them to mature before the afternoon of the 23rd. If they're not ready, I'll be being implanted just as everyone clocks off for Christmas and on my actual Estonian Christmas day. Nothing's ever simple is it???
I do feel better today though and already feel a little brighter. It must have been a lot of that flu getting me down. I am going to bed at between 8.30 and 9pm in the evening at the moment so I have the social life of a 7 year old. Rock and roll.
Lovely Tom came home last night with a big box of Lindt Lindor White chocolates (my fave) as he's been so worried about me over the last few days and to wish me luck for the start of my Menopur injections. He is so lovely but still can't bear to be in the same room as me when I inject; if he's around he sort of shouts encouragement from behind the door!
Gosh that was tricky though with those new drugs! I felt like some sort of amateur mad scientist as I had to mix three little bottles of powder with one little bottle of water then switch needles and inject. My coffee table looked like Dumbledore's lab. I now have two cases of drugs, needles and sharps bins and all my remaining drugs are being delivered to work tomorrow. Everyone in the office is on red alert as some of it has to be refrigerated as soon as it arrives so it would be just my luck for my delivery to get dumped with the pile of newly delivered photocopy paper and forgotten about. So, the office team is primed and briefed and ready to swing into action as soon as all my drugs arrive so that I can make a dash for the fridge and wedge in the Pregnyl drug alongside everyone's lunch. Hormone sandwich anyone???
Oh, big news too...
I'm brunette! Well, actually I am now officially a mouse as I have ditched the blonde and gone to more of a dark ash blonde which is more my natural colour. So, I have kissed goodbye to the high lift tint and embraced the lowlights. Will try and post a pic soon but I still look so ropey from my cold that I am avoiding all photographic opportunites until my face stops looking as if someone has grated my lips and nose. Nice.
Anyway, just wanted to vent my over anxious brain again on here. Thanks Kittymama for giving me the excuse to contact the clinic again. I really have been stewing over it! You're a star.
Love to everyone in the meantime.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Soooooooo tired!
OK, well it’s all still going alright I guess.
I’ve been absolutely floored by a flu like illness since last Friday so that’s over 9 days of raging temperatures, terrible cough, enough snot to launch a ship as well as all the IVF drugs. I look absolutely awful and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so run down and ill.
I’ve battled on at work every day but by 3pm I’m experiencing such crushing fatigue that it’s all I can do to get to the end of the school day before I drive home and fall fast asleep. I’m not sure how much is the side effects of the IVF drugs and how much is this flu thing as I know that 4 colleagues had over a week off with this illness and still aren’t right 2 weeks later.
However, I have read that the hormones can give you awful headaches and I have an almost constant headache at the moment. I can barely lift my head off the pillow for most of the time and the dark circles under my eyes are like something I’ve never seen before.
I have virtually no appetite and I have absolutely no energy whatsoever. I feel like a complete failure as a friend and girlfriend at the moment as I can’t summon up enough energy to go out or to do anything more than collapse into bed. I’m trying so hard to keep going and I haven’t cried once, despite the nurses saying that by rights I should be a hormonal mess as the truth is that I’m scared that once I do I just won’t be able to stop.
The good news is though that we have the dates for the surgical parts of the IVF but... Oh, the irony!
I’m due to have my eggs harvested on 21st December, which is, now wait for it....
My wedding date to ST!!!!
So, two years after I walked down the aisle with ST, I’ll be knocked out under general anaesthetic having my IVF eggs removed. Our implantation date is then 23rd December so I’ll be on complete and utter bedrest for 48 hours after that so Happy Christmas to me!
We were due to go to my Aunt and Uncle’s house on Christmas Eve for the usual Estonian Christmas chaos and then to Tom’s mum’s on Christmas Day with his family. Apparently jiggly car journeys are not good after the implantation, neither is getting over excited or straining too much so our plans for attending two brill parties and driving for miles everywhere now seem a little scuppered.
I’ve no doubt that some nasty people will see this as me moaning about not being able to have a Christmas party and how I’ve got my priorities all wrong but it’s actually me not wanting to link IVF and Christmas. I mean, if it doesn’t work (which with a predicted success rate of only 27% is highly likely) then I don’t want next year’s Christmas to be a reminder of the fact that our chance at a baby failed.
I really wanted to enjoy Christmas with my family to take my mind off all the nasty part of the IVF and now it seems I’m going to be groggy from surgery and totally unable to take part in any of the festivities in case it damages our chances, whilst trying to come to terms with the fact that it probably won’t work anyway.
Gosh, I sound like a little ray of twinkly Christmas cheer don’t I!!!
I start the next round of drugs today which means that I’ll now be self injecting morning and night and not just morning. I have bought some stretchy clothing for the swollen abdomen the hospital told me to expect and have braced myself for the uncomfortable physical symptoms of the next bit. From everything I’ve been told and read, it seems that this is the part which is actually physically painful and also makes you a complete teary crying wreck. Can’t wait!
So, just came on here for a little bit of a moan as I do feel incredibly sorry for myself. My hair’s dropping out, I have had raging full blown flu, a constant headache from the IVF drugs and complete and utter exhaustion with more yet to come.
However, to try and spread some Christmas cheer, I helped the school to make a big donation to Action Aid for Christmas. The children at school always buy us gifts at Christmas and we always buy gifts for secret santa. This year, I’ve helped to organise donations to Action Aid for schoolchildren in poverty in Africa so that our school Christmas really is about giving rather than receiving. It’s lovely to receive gifts from the children and staff at Christmas but there are so many people out there who need help that it only seemed right to focus on helping and giving rather than receiving.
Also have been a complete anal sock ironer and all my Christmas shopping is done, wrapped, addressed and sorted already. Somebody slap me!
So, will keep you all posted and sorry if this sounds a little flat but I’m really struggling at the moment. Just hoping that the next set of drugs aren’t too harsh. Gosh, the 21st seems such a long way away. Have got scans every other day to check on the progress of my eggs and to check I’m not developing OHSS which is apparently fatal (told you I was a cheery little chicken today!)
Will try and update a little more frequently but my internet’s down at home at the moment so can only update at work or mum’s.
Lots of love in the meantime though,
From
A very tired, snotty little pincushion of a girl.
I’ve been absolutely floored by a flu like illness since last Friday so that’s over 9 days of raging temperatures, terrible cough, enough snot to launch a ship as well as all the IVF drugs. I look absolutely awful and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so run down and ill.
I’ve battled on at work every day but by 3pm I’m experiencing such crushing fatigue that it’s all I can do to get to the end of the school day before I drive home and fall fast asleep. I’m not sure how much is the side effects of the IVF drugs and how much is this flu thing as I know that 4 colleagues had over a week off with this illness and still aren’t right 2 weeks later.
However, I have read that the hormones can give you awful headaches and I have an almost constant headache at the moment. I can barely lift my head off the pillow for most of the time and the dark circles under my eyes are like something I’ve never seen before.
I have virtually no appetite and I have absolutely no energy whatsoever. I feel like a complete failure as a friend and girlfriend at the moment as I can’t summon up enough energy to go out or to do anything more than collapse into bed. I’m trying so hard to keep going and I haven’t cried once, despite the nurses saying that by rights I should be a hormonal mess as the truth is that I’m scared that once I do I just won’t be able to stop.
The good news is though that we have the dates for the surgical parts of the IVF but... Oh, the irony!
I’m due to have my eggs harvested on 21st December, which is, now wait for it....
My wedding date to ST!!!!
So, two years after I walked down the aisle with ST, I’ll be knocked out under general anaesthetic having my IVF eggs removed. Our implantation date is then 23rd December so I’ll be on complete and utter bedrest for 48 hours after that so Happy Christmas to me!
We were due to go to my Aunt and Uncle’s house on Christmas Eve for the usual Estonian Christmas chaos and then to Tom’s mum’s on Christmas Day with his family. Apparently jiggly car journeys are not good after the implantation, neither is getting over excited or straining too much so our plans for attending two brill parties and driving for miles everywhere now seem a little scuppered.
I’ve no doubt that some nasty people will see this as me moaning about not being able to have a Christmas party and how I’ve got my priorities all wrong but it’s actually me not wanting to link IVF and Christmas. I mean, if it doesn’t work (which with a predicted success rate of only 27% is highly likely) then I don’t want next year’s Christmas to be a reminder of the fact that our chance at a baby failed.
I really wanted to enjoy Christmas with my family to take my mind off all the nasty part of the IVF and now it seems I’m going to be groggy from surgery and totally unable to take part in any of the festivities in case it damages our chances, whilst trying to come to terms with the fact that it probably won’t work anyway.
Gosh, I sound like a little ray of twinkly Christmas cheer don’t I!!!
I start the next round of drugs today which means that I’ll now be self injecting morning and night and not just morning. I have bought some stretchy clothing for the swollen abdomen the hospital told me to expect and have braced myself for the uncomfortable physical symptoms of the next bit. From everything I’ve been told and read, it seems that this is the part which is actually physically painful and also makes you a complete teary crying wreck. Can’t wait!
So, just came on here for a little bit of a moan as I do feel incredibly sorry for myself. My hair’s dropping out, I have had raging full blown flu, a constant headache from the IVF drugs and complete and utter exhaustion with more yet to come.
However, to try and spread some Christmas cheer, I helped the school to make a big donation to Action Aid for Christmas. The children at school always buy us gifts at Christmas and we always buy gifts for secret santa. This year, I’ve helped to organise donations to Action Aid for schoolchildren in poverty in Africa so that our school Christmas really is about giving rather than receiving. It’s lovely to receive gifts from the children and staff at Christmas but there are so many people out there who need help that it only seemed right to focus on helping and giving rather than receiving.
Also have been a complete anal sock ironer and all my Christmas shopping is done, wrapped, addressed and sorted already. Somebody slap me!
So, will keep you all posted and sorry if this sounds a little flat but I’m really struggling at the moment. Just hoping that the next set of drugs aren’t too harsh. Gosh, the 21st seems such a long way away. Have got scans every other day to check on the progress of my eggs and to check I’m not developing OHSS which is apparently fatal (told you I was a cheery little chicken today!)
Will try and update a little more frequently but my internet’s down at home at the moment so can only update at work or mum’s.
Lots of love in the meantime though,
From
A very tired, snotty little pincushion of a girl.
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
Ding ding round two...
Well, what a rather poorly little bee I've been. I am officially on the list of the Midlands' poorliest people. After taking the kids to the cinema on Friday, I crawled into bed and pretty much didn't get up until Monday afternoon. I've had it all; burning temperature, hacking cough, tearing sore throat, the shakes, aching all over and the most revolting amount of snot you could ever experience. Strangely though, I've not had a single side effect from the IVF drugs! I'm actually breezing through the whole treatment up to now and have responded correctly to the first round of drugs almost to the very hour. I can't actually believe that something appears to be going right for once.
However, as is the way in my life, there has been a slight mishap elsewhere. I can't remember whether I posted about this when it happened but it has developed a little further recently and so I'll give you a little run down...
I am currently working my way up to becoming a monk. Well, not exactly in the sense of living in a monastery and wearing a brown smock, but I am going bald.
Yes.
Bald.
I had a small incident with my hair colour the other week and things have gone from bad to worse. I've been colouring my hair with a full head colour from my natural dark blonde to my current very light blonde with a high lift tint pretty much since ST left. It was kind of, "I'm going to colour that man right out of my hair" and I loved it so I stuck with it. My colour doesn't contain any peroxide as I'm naturally quite fair so why this has happened is a mystery to me and my colourist.
We put a colour on a few weeks ago and it turned out a bit more orangey than usual. We'd used the same colour as usual for the same amount of time but it still had a bit of a tango glow. I said I'd wash it a few times and see how it went but unfortunately it didn't get any better and I still had a satsuma head. So, we redid it to try and lift it a little. However, when we came to rinse it off, it snapped off in great big chunks around the crown at about 2 inches from the root which is weird cause we didn't even colour any more than 1/2 an inch either time. I now have a bizarre bob haircut which is now the correct colour but around the crown has a strange duck-tuft sticky up pineapple effect in about a 5 inch ring. This is now compounded by the fact that the colour is now growing out so I have a delightful two tone duck bum pineapple effect.
I am lush.
I am sleeping in deep conditioning treatments and leaving sticky oily patches on the back of the settee and on anything my head touches. I reek of coconut oil and it's still snapping off in tufts every day. You see, nothing ever goes completely smoothly. My colourist says I can't do anything with it until it settles down a bit so I am stuck with the crazy double dippy duck bum do for a little while yet. It's so bad that even the kids are commenting on it at school and ordinarily I could turn up with an actual pineapple on my head and they wouldn't notice.
So, I'm coughing up lumps of vile things, jabbing needles in my leg every day and walking round with a coiff that is usually spotted on a mallard. I can definitely say that I have looked better.
So, I just thought I'd update inbetween slathering gallons of oil on my head and swallowing gallons of night nurse. I'm off to the hospital on Friday for my baseline scan and blood tests to double check that I've responded to the Suprecur drug and then it's onto round two which is the next set of hormones to stimulate egg production. Wahooooo - more bloomin injections! Tom is still in the brace position awaiting me turning into a hormonal lunatic but as yet, as my mum so kindly put it, "I've never seen you so bloomin chipper!" So, all good so far so if nothing else, I have had it confirmed that I can respond well to synthetic hormones - now there's something to pad out your CV...
Anyway, will nip off now; I have an appointment with a bucket of conditioner and a handful of lockets.
Thanks again for all the e-mails and messages etc. I check every day and they really do spur me on.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
However, as is the way in my life, there has been a slight mishap elsewhere. I can't remember whether I posted about this when it happened but it has developed a little further recently and so I'll give you a little run down...
I am currently working my way up to becoming a monk. Well, not exactly in the sense of living in a monastery and wearing a brown smock, but I am going bald.
Yes.
Bald.
I had a small incident with my hair colour the other week and things have gone from bad to worse. I've been colouring my hair with a full head colour from my natural dark blonde to my current very light blonde with a high lift tint pretty much since ST left. It was kind of, "I'm going to colour that man right out of my hair" and I loved it so I stuck with it. My colour doesn't contain any peroxide as I'm naturally quite fair so why this has happened is a mystery to me and my colourist.
We put a colour on a few weeks ago and it turned out a bit more orangey than usual. We'd used the same colour as usual for the same amount of time but it still had a bit of a tango glow. I said I'd wash it a few times and see how it went but unfortunately it didn't get any better and I still had a satsuma head. So, we redid it to try and lift it a little. However, when we came to rinse it off, it snapped off in great big chunks around the crown at about 2 inches from the root which is weird cause we didn't even colour any more than 1/2 an inch either time. I now have a bizarre bob haircut which is now the correct colour but around the crown has a strange duck-tuft sticky up pineapple effect in about a 5 inch ring. This is now compounded by the fact that the colour is now growing out so I have a delightful two tone duck bum pineapple effect.
I am lush.
I am sleeping in deep conditioning treatments and leaving sticky oily patches on the back of the settee and on anything my head touches. I reek of coconut oil and it's still snapping off in tufts every day. You see, nothing ever goes completely smoothly. My colourist says I can't do anything with it until it settles down a bit so I am stuck with the crazy double dippy duck bum do for a little while yet. It's so bad that even the kids are commenting on it at school and ordinarily I could turn up with an actual pineapple on my head and they wouldn't notice.
So, I'm coughing up lumps of vile things, jabbing needles in my leg every day and walking round with a coiff that is usually spotted on a mallard. I can definitely say that I have looked better.
So, I just thought I'd update inbetween slathering gallons of oil on my head and swallowing gallons of night nurse. I'm off to the hospital on Friday for my baseline scan and blood tests to double check that I've responded to the Suprecur drug and then it's onto round two which is the next set of hormones to stimulate egg production. Wahooooo - more bloomin injections! Tom is still in the brace position awaiting me turning into a hormonal lunatic but as yet, as my mum so kindly put it, "I've never seen you so bloomin chipper!" So, all good so far so if nothing else, I have had it confirmed that I can respond well to synthetic hormones - now there's something to pad out your CV...
Anyway, will nip off now; I have an appointment with a bucket of conditioner and a handful of lockets.
Thanks again for all the e-mails and messages etc. I check every day and they really do spur me on.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
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