Well I guess the title says it all really. Started spotting last night so thought "sod it" and had a big glass of wine with my dinner at mum's after doing yet more tests which turned out to be negative.
Was up with Tom at 5.30am this morning to make the dark trip into hospital in -5 degree temperatures to have the news broken to us formally.
I had to take a urine sample in and have a blood test but the urine sample is definitely a negative so the blood test is now a formality just to check my own hormone levels.
We have an appointment to see the consultant in a couple of weeks to look at all of our options and next steps too which should be something to look forward to.
Good news is though that we thought we'd have to start saving a few pennies to pay for all the embryo transfers but apparently not! This little frozen team get thawed and replaced for nothing; it's only if we need another full round of the egg collection surgery and jabs that we need to pay. Some other good news was that although we only thought we had 6 frozen embryos, apparently one more made a last dash for the finish line and started developing so now we have seven.
Every cloud I guess therefore has a silver lining but it doesn't stop it raining and I feel like it's pouring today. I had to drive back to school alone as Tom had to dash off to catch a train to London. I had to walk straight back into a room full of over 30 staff and rally them all ready for the new term under new management. I don't quite know how I got through it. I made gags, I told little stories and somehow managed to go through the next term's action plan, staffing structure and begin the induction of 2 new other staff as well as begin sorting out a grievance. I will admit though that after that, I hid in my office, read my lovely text messages from Tom and almost broke down when our "Care Coordinator" came in to check I was OK (we have a dedicated member of the support team who is a family liaison and crisis officer as well as sometimes staff counsellor.) I told her all the gory details but didn't crack, even when she offered to make me a cup of tea which is what usually makes the old chin start to wobble on me.
I'm home now and must have looked a right miserable cow cause I didn't go round saying goodbye to anyone. Just hope when news filters round they cut me some slack about it.
Have got a pile of marking to finish off and the house needs a good clean - no more getting out of the hoovering in case I dislodge the embryo.
Am not going to lie and say things are fine at the moment. Feel numb about it all actually. The whole round of injections, early morning dashes to the hospital, the scans, the surgery, the medications and the waiting and hoping all seem like a bit of a dream now. The not so nice thing is now that we have to go through pretty much all of it again.
Oh well my little fragglebaublebaby, I don't know who you would have been, what you would have become or why you didn't stick around but I want you to know you would have been loved so very very much. I tried ever so hard to make you stay but you obviously weren't ready or thought that I wasn't ready for you. I'm so sorry if it's something I did wrong; if I'd have known how to do it, I would have done anything to ensure you were safe. Just the thought of the chance of you made me and Tom so happy and for that short time we thought you might keep growing and staying around, you made us so excited and proud.
Maybe one of your chilly little brother and sister embryos will be the one who I help to grow but you will always be so very special. You were our very first and the embryologist said you were the very best. I agree. I don't know what happened and will happen to you now but although you were only a few cells big, you changed me and Tom forever. Your chilly little siblings will have such a loving family to come into if they can stick and stay; this we found out because of you. Every member of our families from the oldest granny to the youngest cousin, from the littlest aunty to the biggest beefy rugby playing uncle were all rooting for you. We're all just waiting and waiting to love one of you. I only hope that it's soon.
Thank you my little fragglebaublebaby for showing us how much we are loved and how lucky we are to have each other and our families. I'm going to sign off now and hopefully update again soon.
XXXXXXXXXXX
OH FOR GOD'S SAKE!!!!!!!!!
Just got a phone call from the hospital and things just get worse. On new Year's Eve when I did the test, I bought it because i felt "different". I can't explain it, just that I didn't feel my usual self since the transfer but on this day I felt like my normal self again. I mistakenly thought it was because I might actually be pregnant and I was starting to "feel" the pregancy hormone. Turns out I couldn't be more wrong. The hospital just called to say there's a problem with my blood result. Apparently my blood reading for HcG is "12" which indicates that at some point I was actually pregnant and the embryo had implanted and started producing its own HcG. However, 12 is apparently too low to indicate an ongoing pregnancy. The upshot is that it appears I was pregant and then "lost" the pregnancy so the shift in feeling I had on New Year's Day is probably when the pregnancy ended! The hospital explain this as a "biochemical pregnancy" and they said it's good news as it shows I have some sticking power. Bloody hell though. Now I feel even worse. Got to go back to hospital on Friday morning for another blood test to check my hormone levels are continuing to go back down. It may however, explain the funny line on that very first "tesco toilets" test. Am utterly up in the air and completely blaming myself for overdoing it during that first week. Why can't even this part go smoothly???? AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, 4 January 2010
Sunday, 3 January 2010
What's the similarity between me and chocolate?
They both start to melt when things start to heat up...
Yes, along with my selection box that I left too near the portable heater (my house still isn't any warmer) I am experiencing a minor meltdown.
It appears that the early testing rollercoaster triggered off a lot of stuff that I had kept a lid on recently. In fact, Tom and I were only saying the other day how we seem to have sailed through all of this so far and that the horror stories of hormonal nutcaseness that were sold to us may well have been from attention seeking ladies with nothing better to focus on.
It appears we were wrong. Very wrong. The hormone train hit me like an express freight version the other day and I sobbed solidly from New Year's Day until last night. I don't know what came over me. One minute I was fine and the next minute I started sobbing and shaking and couldn't stop. I was even laughing but crying at the same time. I've had every single feeling you could ever have within the worst PMT ever. I've had a feeling of being a complete and utter failure, a self loathing the likes of which you've never seen before, anger so strong I swear I could knock out Mike Tyson in one Miss Piggy punch, utter frustration and of course complete and abject misery. I'm fine now though. A very long chat with Tom yesterday sorted me out and a trawl round some carpet shops for my new lounge carpet reminded me that there are people worse off in the world than us. (you don't half get some nutters wandering amongst the roll ends...)
The upshot though is that I feel incredibly fragile at the moment. I've therefore done what anyone does in a crisis and gone and blown a couple of hundred quid in the sales on boots that are fabulously impractical and achingly fashionable tops and jackets that make me feel better about the IVF fiasco. There's nothing more soothing than entering your pin number and being passed a shiny new pair of boots wrapped in tissue. And relax.........
Have also kept sales of early pregnancy test kits nice and high and have done at least one every day. I've not even had a whiff of the second pink line like on the first "Tesco Toilets Test" and so have now accepted that this little fragglebaublebaby just didn't want to stick around. The faint line was obviously a hangover of the HCG injection prior to my surgery. Ah well, at least we had an extra decoration on the tree this year and I got out of the washing up. Every cloud and all that.
We're off to the hospital for 8am tomorrow to have it confirmed and then at 9am I begin my first day in my new role as acting head. No pressure that morning then.... God knows how I'm going to walk out of the test results and into a staff room full of expectant faces and keep it all together. Time for some deep breaths, eye of the tiger backing music and a few shouts of "I am iron!!!" before I go in.
Anyway, just wanted to say thanks so much to everyone who has supported me so far through all of this. It has made the whole process so much easier to bear and I don't have to put my "brave face" on with you lot all the time like I do with my family and friends - you see, a lot of the time I don't want to upset them; they've done more than enough to support me over the last 18 months.
So, I'll say goodbye for now and confirm tomorrow that our little fraggle had just the one Christmas with us. Lots of love in the meantime and thanks again.
A rather wobbly,
Emmy
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Yes, along with my selection box that I left too near the portable heater (my house still isn't any warmer) I am experiencing a minor meltdown.
It appears that the early testing rollercoaster triggered off a lot of stuff that I had kept a lid on recently. In fact, Tom and I were only saying the other day how we seem to have sailed through all of this so far and that the horror stories of hormonal nutcaseness that were sold to us may well have been from attention seeking ladies with nothing better to focus on.
It appears we were wrong. Very wrong. The hormone train hit me like an express freight version the other day and I sobbed solidly from New Year's Day until last night. I don't know what came over me. One minute I was fine and the next minute I started sobbing and shaking and couldn't stop. I was even laughing but crying at the same time. I've had every single feeling you could ever have within the worst PMT ever. I've had a feeling of being a complete and utter failure, a self loathing the likes of which you've never seen before, anger so strong I swear I could knock out Mike Tyson in one Miss Piggy punch, utter frustration and of course complete and abject misery. I'm fine now though. A very long chat with Tom yesterday sorted me out and a trawl round some carpet shops for my new lounge carpet reminded me that there are people worse off in the world than us. (you don't half get some nutters wandering amongst the roll ends...)
The upshot though is that I feel incredibly fragile at the moment. I've therefore done what anyone does in a crisis and gone and blown a couple of hundred quid in the sales on boots that are fabulously impractical and achingly fashionable tops and jackets that make me feel better about the IVF fiasco. There's nothing more soothing than entering your pin number and being passed a shiny new pair of boots wrapped in tissue. And relax.........
Have also kept sales of early pregnancy test kits nice and high and have done at least one every day. I've not even had a whiff of the second pink line like on the first "Tesco Toilets Test" and so have now accepted that this little fragglebaublebaby just didn't want to stick around. The faint line was obviously a hangover of the HCG injection prior to my surgery. Ah well, at least we had an extra decoration on the tree this year and I got out of the washing up. Every cloud and all that.
We're off to the hospital for 8am tomorrow to have it confirmed and then at 9am I begin my first day in my new role as acting head. No pressure that morning then.... God knows how I'm going to walk out of the test results and into a staff room full of expectant faces and keep it all together. Time for some deep breaths, eye of the tiger backing music and a few shouts of "I am iron!!!" before I go in.
Anyway, just wanted to say thanks so much to everyone who has supported me so far through all of this. It has made the whole process so much easier to bear and I don't have to put my "brave face" on with you lot all the time like I do with my family and friends - you see, a lot of the time I don't want to upset them; they've done more than enough to support me over the last 18 months.
So, I'll say goodbye for now and confirm tomorrow that our little fraggle had just the one Christmas with us. Lots of love in the meantime and thanks again.
A rather wobbly,
Emmy
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Why am I such an idiot???
Just reach into your screens and slap me now girls.
For I am a complete idiot.
I went and bought an early response pregnancy kit, despite the recommendation of the hospital not to.
You won't believe what happened..
I bought a two pack.
The first one showed a positive result which then disappeared after half an hour.
The second one showed negative.
This means that for half an hour I was overjoyed, as was mum, dad and Tom.
I am now gutted.
I have since found out that the hormone injection I had to have 36 hours before surgery could have given a false positive.
I have also found out that you can get false negatives.
I am no further forward except that for one lovely half hour, I thought it had worked.
I cried and cried and cried outside Tesco (yup, had classily used the Tesco loo to do the test) and sobbed with utter relief that it had all seemingly worked.
I then rushed to mum's to show her the result but it had faded away.
I did another test and it was negative.
I am now in a right pickle.
Why am I such an impatient div?
To cap it all, I've started getting what i think are period type cramps.
Oh arse.
XXXXXXXXX
P.S Happy New Year!!!
For I am a complete idiot.
I went and bought an early response pregnancy kit, despite the recommendation of the hospital not to.
You won't believe what happened..
I bought a two pack.
The first one showed a positive result which then disappeared after half an hour.
The second one showed negative.
This means that for half an hour I was overjoyed, as was mum, dad and Tom.
I am now gutted.
I have since found out that the hormone injection I had to have 36 hours before surgery could have given a false positive.
I have also found out that you can get false negatives.
I am no further forward except that for one lovely half hour, I thought it had worked.
I cried and cried and cried outside Tesco (yup, had classily used the Tesco loo to do the test) and sobbed with utter relief that it had all seemingly worked.
I then rushed to mum's to show her the result but it had faded away.
I did another test and it was negative.
I am now in a right pickle.
Why am I such an impatient div?
To cap it all, I've started getting what i think are period type cramps.
Oh arse.
XXXXXXXXX
P.S Happy New Year!!!
Monday, 28 December 2009
Bored, bored, bored, bored....
On the first day of Christmas, Santa gave to me...
An embryo in a test tube
On the second day of Christmas, Santa gave to me...
Two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube.
On the third day of Christmas, Santa gave to me...
Three medications per day
two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube
One the fourth day of Christmas, Santa gave to me
Four festive days without a drink
Three medications per day
two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube
On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa gave to me
5 days gone so far!
Four festive days without a drink
Three medications per day
two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube.
As you can see, I have a little bit of time on my hands and I am bored out of my mind. I can see why IVF sends you round the bend; it's nothing to do with the rollercoaster of hormones, it's just so sodding tiresome! You can't run about, go to the gym, lift anything, have a drink or generally have a suitably festive time and you're so bloated that you feel like you've swallowed a space hopper.
I finally cracked yesterday though and started back with my usual day to day stuff. I managed to stay sofa-bound for all of the 23rd December after the transfer and for most of the 24th but was up and doing on Christmas day and have gradually been staging up the activity since then which culminated in yesterday. I entered hell itself yesterday and battled against the elements and the local chav population to brave Tesco. Gosh that was an error. It was like an episode of robot wars as trolleys just trundled wildly round the aisles, randomly bashing into stuff with loads of kids just yelling and bawling. I have no idea why people were having to do major food shops just days after Christmas and why people were shoving their trolleys full of selection boxes; is there a national chocolate shortage coming up which I know nothing about? Is it time to start hoarding flakes and stockpiling snickers bars? Oddly enough, the fruit and veg section was deserted so I was able to peruse the exotic fruits in blessed seclusion and enjoy a good squeeze of a mango or two and a snigger at some oddly shaped root vegetables.
My trip was because during the night I must have been visited by three spirits, the ghost of Christmas cooking past, the ghost of Christmas cooking present and the ghost of Christmas cooking future... They left me fired up with a strange urge to cook up a real storm. This led to me battling through Tesco and then turning my kitchen into an industrial cooking station. I now have a freezer full to bursting with over 20 tupperware boxes (yes 20) of the following... (all home made completely from scratch with no packet help at all I'd like to point out!)
My fridge and frezer are now groaning under the weight of my offerings and I feel better as I have something in my house other than chocolate and crisps and I've got a load of healthy food ready for when I start back at work. I am now off to wash up my halo...
I am convinced the IVF hasn't worked though and this is not just me being negative. I've had so much pain since the egg collection and transfer that I just don't see how anything can stick in there. I don't mean I've been writhing around in agony (I haven't even taken any painkillers) but I'm so swollen up and keep getting these really sharp cramps that I'm unsure as to how anything can "stick" in there.
It also didn't help that on my way into the car on Christmas Eve there was a little bit of an incident... I had stayed wrapped up on the sofa all day , not moving at all and then later on, gingerly got myself glammed up ready to go to my uncle's for the Estonian chaos. I put on a fab one shoulder red dress, white furry cropped jacket and some sequinned heels and wrapped myself up in a cream faux fur blanket to get in the car (the hospital told me to avoid extremes of temperature and it was like Siberia outside the house). I took one step outside the back door and found myself in a heap on the floor. I hadn't even managed one complete step away from the doormat before I toppled over onto the driveway in a heap of furry blanket. I can categorically state that sequinned heels and black ice are not good friends. As I hadn't been out in the last 48 hours, I hadn't experienced the sheet ice that was my driveway. I ended up in a heap and I thought Tom was going to blow a gasket.
Eventually, after quite a lot of skidding and grabbing hold of the conservatory wall, we all managed to get wedged into Dad's Mondeo. along with the cooked turkey, a saucepan of gravy and a whole cooked joint of pork and crackling. Does anyone else's family ever travel with so much meat? Mum was also a vision in sequins although her accessory of the pyrex bowl of sausagemeat in her lap was not one of her better fashion moments. I wrapped myself up in the seatbelt and blanket whilst Tom wedged himself in with a huge pan of stuffing on his lap.
We slid our way over to my Uncle's and had the usual Estonian family evening of enough meat to satisfy the lion enclosure at Whipsnade zoo, far too much boozing (not for me though) and a pudding that wouldn't light. It was quite sad though due to a certain absence from the Christmas table. There were a few emotional moments when it was pointed out that a certain loved one was not with us this year and I doubt we'll ever get over the fact that my uncle forgot to make the sauerkraut. It was also sad that my brother and Jo weren't there too... In the words of one of my drunken cousins when he heard there was no sauerkraut.... "Dad, you've ruined Christmas!" It was like world war three had broken out around that table and even mum's three different stuffings selection could not lighten the mood of disappointment. On the plus side, it did mean that there wasn't the usual brussel/sauerkraut fart combo which can strip wallpaper at 20 paces.
The usual neighbour dressed as Santa brought all the pressies in and we had a lovely time unwrapping them all. My favourite was one from my uncle to Tom which was a porn mag, a packet of tissues and a mirror - he had been told the horror story of the "men's room" at the hospital!
We had a taxi home and I must admit that I was absolutely shattered when I got in. Tom and I were still in separate rooms as Tom's snoring is worse than ever at the moment and sleeping next to a jackhammer would be easier to drop off with at the moment. He woke me up on Christmas morning with my breakfast (and another of those awful pessaries) on a tray as well as a load of pressies. I was a very very very very lucky girl as I got...
A pair of platinum and diamond stud ear rings
A day for two at Nirvana spa with loads of treatments
A bluetooth headset
A bottle of Chanel number 5
A bottle of "Lovely"
Some i pod accessories
Loads of choccies
Tickets to see Ocean Colour Scene (best band in the world!)
I was thoroughly pampered by my lovely Tom and we had a lovely present swap and cup of tea in bed. ( had somehow managed to purchase 14 pressies for Tom as I'd started buying them in August - how sad am I...) I couldn't stop laughing again at when Santa had tried to leave but had been fed so much rum by my Uncle that he fell over a load of boxes in the hall. (no one leaves my family dos vertical!)
We went to Tom's mum's for Christmas dinner and had a lovely relaxing day again. She had an absolute houseful and my parents came over later in the day too. I doubt I will ever recover from my mum doing canoeing on the wii with Tom's uncle Howard. If the IVF doesn't work, I blame that 20 minutes entirely as I almost required oxygen I was laughing so hard.
Boxing day was Tom at the football and me at Mum's with my Dad's twin and my aunty. By this time I thought I was going to go mad with all the sitting about so I agreed with Tom that we'd go for walk the next day. So, we had a lovely 6 mile stroll to a nearby national park and a good tramp through the coountryside. I felt so much better afterwards and actually regained the circulation in my backside as I've had "numb bum" from sitting down so much.
Anyway, I did my marathon cooking session yesterday then met a friend in the pub for a few drinks last night as Tom was working late. I can't believe that I've still got 6 days to wait until I get anything confirmed so I do actually think I will be going round the bend in some way fairly soon. Am even going to start my schoolwork today as I'm so bored!
So, if you feel the need to drop me an e-mail or comment, don't fight it as I'm climbing the walls here. It's so icy and slippy here today that I daren't go out today so I'm like a little old housebound lady.
Here's hoping you all had a fab Christmas and that Santa brought you everything you could possibly wish for. Keep warm in the meantime and I'll keep you posted on the progress of the fragglebaublebaby. Do you think I should buy an early pregnancy test???
XXXXXXXXX
An embryo in a test tube
On the second day of Christmas, Santa gave to me...
Two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube.
On the third day of Christmas, Santa gave to me...
Three medications per day
two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube
One the fourth day of Christmas, Santa gave to me
Four festive days without a drink
Three medications per day
two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube
On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa gave to me
5 days gone so far!
Four festive days without a drink
Three medications per day
two days on the sofa and
an embryo in a test tube.
As you can see, I have a little bit of time on my hands and I am bored out of my mind. I can see why IVF sends you round the bend; it's nothing to do with the rollercoaster of hormones, it's just so sodding tiresome! You can't run about, go to the gym, lift anything, have a drink or generally have a suitably festive time and you're so bloated that you feel like you've swallowed a space hopper.
I finally cracked yesterday though and started back with my usual day to day stuff. I managed to stay sofa-bound for all of the 23rd December after the transfer and for most of the 24th but was up and doing on Christmas day and have gradually been staging up the activity since then which culminated in yesterday. I entered hell itself yesterday and battled against the elements and the local chav population to brave Tesco. Gosh that was an error. It was like an episode of robot wars as trolleys just trundled wildly round the aisles, randomly bashing into stuff with loads of kids just yelling and bawling. I have no idea why people were having to do major food shops just days after Christmas and why people were shoving their trolleys full of selection boxes; is there a national chocolate shortage coming up which I know nothing about? Is it time to start hoarding flakes and stockpiling snickers bars? Oddly enough, the fruit and veg section was deserted so I was able to peruse the exotic fruits in blessed seclusion and enjoy a good squeeze of a mango or two and a snigger at some oddly shaped root vegetables.
My trip was because during the night I must have been visited by three spirits, the ghost of Christmas cooking past, the ghost of Christmas cooking present and the ghost of Christmas cooking future... They left me fired up with a strange urge to cook up a real storm. This led to me battling through Tesco and then turning my kitchen into an industrial cooking station. I now have a freezer full to bursting with over 20 tupperware boxes (yes 20) of the following... (all home made completely from scratch with no packet help at all I'd like to point out!)
- Roast red pepper and tomato soup
- Winter vegetable stew
- Chilli
- Bolognaise
- Roast sweet pepper and chilli soup
- Butternut squash, spinach and coconut curry with coriander
My fridge and frezer are now groaning under the weight of my offerings and I feel better as I have something in my house other than chocolate and crisps and I've got a load of healthy food ready for when I start back at work. I am now off to wash up my halo...
I am convinced the IVF hasn't worked though and this is not just me being negative. I've had so much pain since the egg collection and transfer that I just don't see how anything can stick in there. I don't mean I've been writhing around in agony (I haven't even taken any painkillers) but I'm so swollen up and keep getting these really sharp cramps that I'm unsure as to how anything can "stick" in there.
It also didn't help that on my way into the car on Christmas Eve there was a little bit of an incident... I had stayed wrapped up on the sofa all day , not moving at all and then later on, gingerly got myself glammed up ready to go to my uncle's for the Estonian chaos. I put on a fab one shoulder red dress, white furry cropped jacket and some sequinned heels and wrapped myself up in a cream faux fur blanket to get in the car (the hospital told me to avoid extremes of temperature and it was like Siberia outside the house). I took one step outside the back door and found myself in a heap on the floor. I hadn't even managed one complete step away from the doormat before I toppled over onto the driveway in a heap of furry blanket. I can categorically state that sequinned heels and black ice are not good friends. As I hadn't been out in the last 48 hours, I hadn't experienced the sheet ice that was my driveway. I ended up in a heap and I thought Tom was going to blow a gasket.
Eventually, after quite a lot of skidding and grabbing hold of the conservatory wall, we all managed to get wedged into Dad's Mondeo. along with the cooked turkey, a saucepan of gravy and a whole cooked joint of pork and crackling. Does anyone else's family ever travel with so much meat? Mum was also a vision in sequins although her accessory of the pyrex bowl of sausagemeat in her lap was not one of her better fashion moments. I wrapped myself up in the seatbelt and blanket whilst Tom wedged himself in with a huge pan of stuffing on his lap.
We slid our way over to my Uncle's and had the usual Estonian family evening of enough meat to satisfy the lion enclosure at Whipsnade zoo, far too much boozing (not for me though) and a pudding that wouldn't light. It was quite sad though due to a certain absence from the Christmas table. There were a few emotional moments when it was pointed out that a certain loved one was not with us this year and I doubt we'll ever get over the fact that my uncle forgot to make the sauerkraut. It was also sad that my brother and Jo weren't there too... In the words of one of my drunken cousins when he heard there was no sauerkraut.... "Dad, you've ruined Christmas!" It was like world war three had broken out around that table and even mum's three different stuffings selection could not lighten the mood of disappointment. On the plus side, it did mean that there wasn't the usual brussel/sauerkraut fart combo which can strip wallpaper at 20 paces.
The usual neighbour dressed as Santa brought all the pressies in and we had a lovely time unwrapping them all. My favourite was one from my uncle to Tom which was a porn mag, a packet of tissues and a mirror - he had been told the horror story of the "men's room" at the hospital!
We had a taxi home and I must admit that I was absolutely shattered when I got in. Tom and I were still in separate rooms as Tom's snoring is worse than ever at the moment and sleeping next to a jackhammer would be easier to drop off with at the moment. He woke me up on Christmas morning with my breakfast (and another of those awful pessaries) on a tray as well as a load of pressies. I was a very very very very lucky girl as I got...
A pair of platinum and diamond stud ear rings
A day for two at Nirvana spa with loads of treatments
A bluetooth headset
A bottle of Chanel number 5
A bottle of "Lovely"
Some i pod accessories
Loads of choccies
Tickets to see Ocean Colour Scene (best band in the world!)
I was thoroughly pampered by my lovely Tom and we had a lovely present swap and cup of tea in bed. ( had somehow managed to purchase 14 pressies for Tom as I'd started buying them in August - how sad am I...) I couldn't stop laughing again at when Santa had tried to leave but had been fed so much rum by my Uncle that he fell over a load of boxes in the hall. (no one leaves my family dos vertical!)
We went to Tom's mum's for Christmas dinner and had a lovely relaxing day again. She had an absolute houseful and my parents came over later in the day too. I doubt I will ever recover from my mum doing canoeing on the wii with Tom's uncle Howard. If the IVF doesn't work, I blame that 20 minutes entirely as I almost required oxygen I was laughing so hard.
Boxing day was Tom at the football and me at Mum's with my Dad's twin and my aunty. By this time I thought I was going to go mad with all the sitting about so I agreed with Tom that we'd go for walk the next day. So, we had a lovely 6 mile stroll to a nearby national park and a good tramp through the coountryside. I felt so much better afterwards and actually regained the circulation in my backside as I've had "numb bum" from sitting down so much.
Anyway, I did my marathon cooking session yesterday then met a friend in the pub for a few drinks last night as Tom was working late. I can't believe that I've still got 6 days to wait until I get anything confirmed so I do actually think I will be going round the bend in some way fairly soon. Am even going to start my schoolwork today as I'm so bored!
So, if you feel the need to drop me an e-mail or comment, don't fight it as I'm climbing the walls here. It's so icy and slippy here today that I daren't go out today so I'm like a little old housebound lady.
Here's hoping you all had a fab Christmas and that Santa brought you everything you could possibly wish for. Keep warm in the meantime and I'll keep you posted on the progress of the fragglebaublebaby. Do you think I should buy an early pregnancy test???
XXXXXXXXX
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Come on number one!!!!!!!
Oh my goodness me, I feel like I've been slung out of a revolving door at a million miles an hour.
Am sitting here in my uggs, dressing gown and pjs trying not to move too much which is driving me insane. Without a case of it being "too much information" i feel like I've fallen knickers first into the cutlery drawer and then someone has tried to park a mini metro up there. I am not feeling my alluring best.
Yesterday was another weird but rather wonderful day. We arrived at the hospital and I didn't have to wait very long before I was called into theatre. I could go in fully clothed but had to take my shoes off for obvious reasons. I had decided though, in a moment of festive fun, to wear novelty Christmas socks and undies which I then came to regret as my "amusing" socks were waggling above my face and in front of all the theatre staff for the next 30 minutes.
The embryologist came to speak to me and told me that of the 13 embryos, 7 had gone on to continue developing but that the other 6 had stalled. This meant that they'd be implanting one and freezing six. The other six lazy little things would be monitored until teatime but it was unlikely they'd make any more progress. This meant we were down from a full football team to a five a side team plus subs.
I had to strip to the waist but was allowed to keep my socks on which was good as the theatre was so unbelieveably freezing. They'd put the sheets on the radiator again but my legs shook the whole way through I was that cold and the theatre technician kept laughing at my goosebumps.
I showed them my monster hand and I once again became a medical mystery. For some reason, after the anaesthetic jab which absolutely killed on Monday, my hand has swollen up to twice its normal size from my fingers to halfway down my wrist. The whole back of it is bright blue and I can't put any weight on it or even open a door. The consultant had a good look and came to the conclusion that as they had had to dig around for so long to find a vein on Monday then there was a good chance they may have nicked a nerve. She also said that the medicine can weaken the walls of the veins which can lead to fluid leaking and swelling. This was not before 2 other medics had been sent for to marvel at my giant beast of a hand. I wouldn't mind but I've asked for some leather gloves for Christmas.
So, I was now lying half naked in novelty socks whilst in stirrups with a giant monster hand. Was it any wonder Tom didn't want to come into theatre with me?
He was busy causing domestics out in the waiting room. Apparently after we'd agreed Tom wouldn't come into theatre with me (he's unbelieveably squeamish) another couple were called for their theatre slot. The bloke said he wasn't going to go with his wife and when she had a bit of a grump about it, he pointed at Tom and said, "Well if he doesn't have to go in then I'm not either." Nice to know that the two of us spread a little festive dischord and chaos wherever we seem to go.
I'm quite glad Tom didn't come in actually as there is nothing less alluring or feminine than stirrups.
Oh, yes there is as i discovered....
Normally, when you have the dreaded smear test, you go in the stirrups and the doctor/nurse attacks you from the side of the bed don't they?
Not in this case.
I felt like I was on some ride at Alton Towers as my legs were actually strapped into the stirrups to keep me completely still and then the bed was whipped out from under my bum! The bed was in two bits and, so that the doctor can get "up close and personal", the "feet end" of the bed is removed and they wheel themselves up on some wheely office type chair and get right in amongst the action. It was rather disconcerting to have the bed disappear from under your nethers and a doctor scoot up on a revolving chair and almost collide with your ladygarden. It does not rank in my top ten best experiences.
I then had to have a scan which is the same sort as the one you have when you're actually preggers. This is to find the bit to put the embryo in. After all I've been through, I was glad they were locating the exact spot and weren't just going to glue it to a kidney or the side of my spleen.
I was then shown a picture of our little embryo. Disappointingly it didn't have a santa hat on or was carrying a piece of festive mistletoe but it did resemble 4 silvery Christmas baubles. Apparently our little baublebaby was a grade one/2 which means that it's pretty much the best you can get as they're graded from the best (grade one) to grade four. Ours would've been a true grade one but there was a tiny bit of "fragmentation" in one of the cells. I am therefore incubating a Christmas "fraggle".
It was inserted through long thin wire and all the theatre staff and embryologists all wished it good luck as it went in and then me good luck after it was implanted which was really sweet. Then it was 20 minutes lying still until I was wheeled back into a side room to get dressed and have a chat about what happens next.
I've got to go back on 4th Jan to have a urine test to see if I've been lucky and a blood test which will either check my pregnany hormones or give a profile of how close my hormones are back to being normal if it's not worked. This is the morning of my first day in my new role as headteacher which is obviously perfect timing!!!!!
I spent the rest of the day yesterday on various sofas being grumped at by Tom every time I tried to move (it was a little heated when he was actually considering taking me to the toilet and I just about exploded at him with frustration...) Mum went a little bit bonkers and photocopied our embryo picture and hung it on the sodding Christmas tree. Our little "fragglebaublebaby" is now pride of place near the angel in Mum's front room. The world's gone mad.
Slept in the spare room last night as Tom was convinced he'd "bump me" in the night which has never happened before and it would've been very bad luck for him to suddenly become a human game of buckaroo and start assaulting me but it meant that I didn't have to hear any snoring so I didn't protest too much.
I repaid all Tom's fussing and kindness beautifully this morning in the way only I can. He brought me jammy toast and tea in bed and whispered those lovely words every girl wants to hear in the morning, "Have you done that vaginal pessary thing yet love?" and then we began to watch some TV on his i phone. This is where I repaid him. I don't know how it bloomin happened but one minute the i phone was in my hand and the next minute it was in my cup of tea.
Poor Tom's fuming with me and I just feel like a twat. The poor bloke runs around after me and I return this favour by dropping his prized possession into my breakfast and ruining it.
He has currently gone out for a bit which I have read as, "I'm blinking furious with you but can't shout at you because of the IVF so I've had to get out this house..."
Oh dear.
Anyway, tonight's our Estonian Christmas and then tomorrow it's round to Tom's Mum's to do it all over again the English way.
So, I'll say cheerio for now and wish everyone a very merry Christmas. If you get a chance, give a nice big festive yell of... "Come on number one!" for me and fingers crossed my fragglebaublebaby will stick
Lots of love in the meantime.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Am sitting here in my uggs, dressing gown and pjs trying not to move too much which is driving me insane. Without a case of it being "too much information" i feel like I've fallen knickers first into the cutlery drawer and then someone has tried to park a mini metro up there. I am not feeling my alluring best.
Yesterday was another weird but rather wonderful day. We arrived at the hospital and I didn't have to wait very long before I was called into theatre. I could go in fully clothed but had to take my shoes off for obvious reasons. I had decided though, in a moment of festive fun, to wear novelty Christmas socks and undies which I then came to regret as my "amusing" socks were waggling above my face and in front of all the theatre staff for the next 30 minutes.
The embryologist came to speak to me and told me that of the 13 embryos, 7 had gone on to continue developing but that the other 6 had stalled. This meant that they'd be implanting one and freezing six. The other six lazy little things would be monitored until teatime but it was unlikely they'd make any more progress. This meant we were down from a full football team to a five a side team plus subs.
I had to strip to the waist but was allowed to keep my socks on which was good as the theatre was so unbelieveably freezing. They'd put the sheets on the radiator again but my legs shook the whole way through I was that cold and the theatre technician kept laughing at my goosebumps.
I showed them my monster hand and I once again became a medical mystery. For some reason, after the anaesthetic jab which absolutely killed on Monday, my hand has swollen up to twice its normal size from my fingers to halfway down my wrist. The whole back of it is bright blue and I can't put any weight on it or even open a door. The consultant had a good look and came to the conclusion that as they had had to dig around for so long to find a vein on Monday then there was a good chance they may have nicked a nerve. She also said that the medicine can weaken the walls of the veins which can lead to fluid leaking and swelling. This was not before 2 other medics had been sent for to marvel at my giant beast of a hand. I wouldn't mind but I've asked for some leather gloves for Christmas.
So, I was now lying half naked in novelty socks whilst in stirrups with a giant monster hand. Was it any wonder Tom didn't want to come into theatre with me?
He was busy causing domestics out in the waiting room. Apparently after we'd agreed Tom wouldn't come into theatre with me (he's unbelieveably squeamish) another couple were called for their theatre slot. The bloke said he wasn't going to go with his wife and when she had a bit of a grump about it, he pointed at Tom and said, "Well if he doesn't have to go in then I'm not either." Nice to know that the two of us spread a little festive dischord and chaos wherever we seem to go.
I'm quite glad Tom didn't come in actually as there is nothing less alluring or feminine than stirrups.
Oh, yes there is as i discovered....
Normally, when you have the dreaded smear test, you go in the stirrups and the doctor/nurse attacks you from the side of the bed don't they?
Not in this case.
I felt like I was on some ride at Alton Towers as my legs were actually strapped into the stirrups to keep me completely still and then the bed was whipped out from under my bum! The bed was in two bits and, so that the doctor can get "up close and personal", the "feet end" of the bed is removed and they wheel themselves up on some wheely office type chair and get right in amongst the action. It was rather disconcerting to have the bed disappear from under your nethers and a doctor scoot up on a revolving chair and almost collide with your ladygarden. It does not rank in my top ten best experiences.
I then had to have a scan which is the same sort as the one you have when you're actually preggers. This is to find the bit to put the embryo in. After all I've been through, I was glad they were locating the exact spot and weren't just going to glue it to a kidney or the side of my spleen.
I was then shown a picture of our little embryo. Disappointingly it didn't have a santa hat on or was carrying a piece of festive mistletoe but it did resemble 4 silvery Christmas baubles. Apparently our little baublebaby was a grade one/2 which means that it's pretty much the best you can get as they're graded from the best (grade one) to grade four. Ours would've been a true grade one but there was a tiny bit of "fragmentation" in one of the cells. I am therefore incubating a Christmas "fraggle".
It was inserted through long thin wire and all the theatre staff and embryologists all wished it good luck as it went in and then me good luck after it was implanted which was really sweet. Then it was 20 minutes lying still until I was wheeled back into a side room to get dressed and have a chat about what happens next.
I've got to go back on 4th Jan to have a urine test to see if I've been lucky and a blood test which will either check my pregnany hormones or give a profile of how close my hormones are back to being normal if it's not worked. This is the morning of my first day in my new role as headteacher which is obviously perfect timing!!!!!
I spent the rest of the day yesterday on various sofas being grumped at by Tom every time I tried to move (it was a little heated when he was actually considering taking me to the toilet and I just about exploded at him with frustration...) Mum went a little bit bonkers and photocopied our embryo picture and hung it on the sodding Christmas tree. Our little "fragglebaublebaby" is now pride of place near the angel in Mum's front room. The world's gone mad.
Slept in the spare room last night as Tom was convinced he'd "bump me" in the night which has never happened before and it would've been very bad luck for him to suddenly become a human game of buckaroo and start assaulting me but it meant that I didn't have to hear any snoring so I didn't protest too much.
I repaid all Tom's fussing and kindness beautifully this morning in the way only I can. He brought me jammy toast and tea in bed and whispered those lovely words every girl wants to hear in the morning, "Have you done that vaginal pessary thing yet love?" and then we began to watch some TV on his i phone. This is where I repaid him. I don't know how it bloomin happened but one minute the i phone was in my hand and the next minute it was in my cup of tea.
Poor Tom's fuming with me and I just feel like a twat. The poor bloke runs around after me and I return this favour by dropping his prized possession into my breakfast and ruining it.
He has currently gone out for a bit which I have read as, "I'm blinking furious with you but can't shout at you because of the IVF so I've had to get out this house..."
Oh dear.
Anyway, tonight's our Estonian Christmas and then tomorrow it's round to Tom's Mum's to do it all over again the English way.
So, I'll say cheerio for now and wish everyone a very merry Christmas. If you get a chance, give a nice big festive yell of... "Come on number one!" for me and fingers crossed my fragglebaublebaby will stick
Lots of love in the meantime.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
Unlucky for some...
But not for me - we have 13 embryos!!!!!!
Wooooooooooooooohooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!
The hospital rang earlier to say that 20 of the 21 eggs they harvested were suitable for injection and that they had injected the 20 and left them overnight. This morning, 13 of the little beauties were fertilised. This means that technically, although in a petri dish on the other side of town, I am a mum to an entire football team including subs.
Tom's absolutely over the moon as he was convinced none would work due to his antisperm antibody problem and the embryologist says we're the talk of the lab as it's so unusual to get so many mature eggs and then so many embryos from ICSI. We are champion embryo makers!
Anyway, I'm scheduled to have the embryo transfer at 10.30am tomorrow and then it's the agonising 2 week wait until we know it's taken. The embryologist said that it's about a 1 in 4 chance of it working so we're not holding out much hope. I also almost fell over when she said that although they'll only be putting back one embryo, there's still a one in ten chance it'll split to form identical twins as we have twins in the family and my dad's an identical twin. Scary stuff.
Speaking of my dad, he never ever ever ever gets emotional about anything but apparently after I got off the phone to mum to tell her about the embryos and she told my dad, he cried.
My lovely, tough as old boots, absolutely iron dad had a few tears at our embryo news. God knows what he'll be like if it works!
Anyway, will update tomorrow after more procedures and for goodness sake, please please please start sending sticky dust my way.
XXXXXXXXX Emmy
Wooooooooooooooohooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!
The hospital rang earlier to say that 20 of the 21 eggs they harvested were suitable for injection and that they had injected the 20 and left them overnight. This morning, 13 of the little beauties were fertilised. This means that technically, although in a petri dish on the other side of town, I am a mum to an entire football team including subs.
Tom's absolutely over the moon as he was convinced none would work due to his antisperm antibody problem and the embryologist says we're the talk of the lab as it's so unusual to get so many mature eggs and then so many embryos from ICSI. We are champion embryo makers!
Anyway, I'm scheduled to have the embryo transfer at 10.30am tomorrow and then it's the agonising 2 week wait until we know it's taken. The embryologist said that it's about a 1 in 4 chance of it working so we're not holding out much hope. I also almost fell over when she said that although they'll only be putting back one embryo, there's still a one in ten chance it'll split to form identical twins as we have twins in the family and my dad's an identical twin. Scary stuff.
Speaking of my dad, he never ever ever ever gets emotional about anything but apparently after I got off the phone to mum to tell her about the embryos and she told my dad, he cried.
My lovely, tough as old boots, absolutely iron dad had a few tears at our embryo news. God knows what he'll be like if it works!
Anyway, will update tomorrow after more procedures and for goodness sake, please please please start sending sticky dust my way.
XXXXXXXXX Emmy
Monday, 21 December 2009
Yesterday....
Well, it's currently 6.30am and I can't sleep. Not with excitement or worry about the egg fertilisation or anything but because, as Tom was blundering around in the dark this morning, he somehow managed to knock a picture off the wall which sounded as if we were in the middle of the Blitz. I don't know if you've ever heard a picture fall 5 feet off a wall onto bare floorboards at half five in the morning but I can assure you it's not unlike a 21 gun salute. Twin that with my painful hand (more on that later) and you've not exactly got the ideal conditions for a trip to sleepy bye byes land.
I can't believe I actually slept last night after I slept so much yesterday, I am not so much part hen as part dormouse I think (although not the Heston Blumenthal type that he ate on telly the other day... yuck)
We started yesterday at 5am as Tom is completely anal about being late for anything so had us up with Jack Frost and banging about in the dark well before even the GMTV staff have rubbed the sleep from their eyes. I was shattered as Tom had insisted that I drink two pints of water before bed as I was nil by mouth from midnight. This seemed a good idea at the time but not after your fourth sprint down the landing again in the wee small hours... Tom had also snored like the proverbial pig and so we had had a game of "kicksnore tennis" which is where he serves a massive snore and I return it with a kick. He then moans and apologises, turns over and we begin the next round in approximately 5 minutes. (He also always wins)
I was up and dressed fairly early and waking the neighbours with my rumbling stomach (God I was hungry) and decided upon a black hooded velour tracksuit with black furry ugg type slippers on. All this topped off with woolly hat and the trusty barbour. (How is it that I have not had any wriggly fun for weeks when I dress so provocatively...?)
I'd packed my bag the night before and we set off for the hospital at breakneck speed as, despite there being no traffic on the roads at that time of day and enough time to do 17 loops of the hospital, Tom insisted on auditioning for "The Stig" and so we arrived in town in plenty of time but with whiplash and my nerves shredded to pieces.
We parked the car and walked down to the ACU. Actually that is a lie. We ice skated down to the ACU with Tom managing a particularly excellent triple loop by the bus stop accompanied by a shout of "Don't try and catch me; I'll take you down!" So, that was an audition for Top Gear followed by an audition for Saving Private Ryan to follow.
We arrived at the ACU a little early and had to sit in the waiting room where I wondered why on earth there were piles of cat food everywhere and we had another squabble about the weather in Guilford (Tom was meant to be driving there later but the TV was on and apparently it was forecast blizzards. The cat food turned out to be a collection for the local animal welfare shelter!)
I was relieved to hear about the cat food as the previous day I'd been told that I wouldn't be allowed home until I'd sat up and eaten something but that they didn't keep much on the unit and I could bring in something myself if I'd like. For a few horrible moments I did actually think I was going to have to dig in to a tin of Whiskas.
We were led to our rooms and told I'd be in theatre for about 9am. This gave Tom an hour and a half to do the deed. (God I'm laughing again already!) I kept trying to read my book but just kept sniggering. This was not a good idea as Tom was getting more and more wound up about everything which somehow made it even funnier.
Eventually he was led off to this room with his little pot but he was gone ages! I thought he'd be gone about ten minutes but he was nearly half an hour. I think the poor love had stage fright.
When he did finally return he looked as if he'd witnessed a car accident. He was absolutely ashen and kept mumbling, "I just don't want to talk about it". I swear he was almost rocking. This of course sent me into more uncontrollable laughter to the point where I thought the nurses might come in and call off the whole process as I was obviously not mature enough to cope with anything.
By now I had my theatre gown on, a pair of Christmas knickers, the ugg slippers and a dressing gown so tried to cheer Tom up with my take on Burlesque (you see, the outfit was just so glam and gorgeous that it was a natural connection.) Tom didn't seem to appreciate my efforts to lighten the mood and glued himself to his blackberry to try and take his mind off the trauma and my vile outfit. I was bored by now and had read every single noticeboard, pamphlet and leaflet in the room at least twice. I am now an expert on BMI, folic acid and producing sperm samples at home should you ever need any info in these areas, either in Polish, Urdu or English.
Eventually I was called to go for my op and I walked round to theatre with a man who had the longest beard I've ever seen. I thought I was going to trip over it at one point. It was that huge you could have fashioned me another pair of furry uggs out of it. I got led to my bed and had to take off my dressing gown which left me colder than I've ever been in my life. The lovely staff had put the sheets on the radiator for me but I was still like a frozen oven chip there on the bed. It was so cold that it took almost 10 minutes to get the needle for the anaesthetic into my hand. My veins had gone into hibernation and so the anaesthetist was digging around with that needle for ages - hence the sore hand today. I actually have a bruise which goes from the base of my fingers to halfway down my wrist; it's all swollen too. Ouch.
I was then awarded the "wimp of the day" award as they injected me with some anti sickness medicine. I'm always violently sick after most drugs so when I have anything, I get some special stuff. This is usually added whilst I'm under though but this time it went in first and my god did it hurt. I screamed, yelled and almost sat up on the bed. The nice beardy guy had to do a sort of wrestling move to keep my lying flat and my legs flew out of the stirrups and I almost kicked the embryologist in the face by mistake. It burnt like someone had filled me with boiling acid and gave me the most awful cramp immediately in my shoulder muscle. Luckily, before I could complain much more, or boot any more of the staff in the mouth, I was put under and sent off to la la land.
I woke up back in the little room and saw Tom sitting with the nurse who had done all my egg scans. I tried to talk but I sounded like I'd been on eleven gins. I was all slurry and couldn't quite form a sentence but I managed to establish that there'd been 21 eggs harvested and I fell back to sleep again. Tom whispered that I was really funny and I drifted off wondering how I'd managed to do gags whilst I was unconscious.
I eventually woke up. The nurses apparently had a hell of a job getting me to come round and Tom said I was asleep for absolutely ages. You see, I reckon it was the first kip I'd had where someone wasn't waking me up snoring every five minutes so I was enjoying it. I sat up in bed and had a cup of tea and a biscuit (jammy dodger not cat biscuit thankfully) and we were told we were allowed to go home.
Tom was still giggling as apparently I'd been mumbling and kept asking the staff really weird things whilst I was coming round. These included.... "Where's the wrapping paper?", "You need to move all those boxes in the conservatory" and "Oh God, I need to get to school; I'm late!" Nice to know that I can still worry and nag even when I'm out for the count.
We got back to my mum's as Tom had to go to work and I slept for 5 hours solid. I've got absolutely no pain at all but I think I'm just utterly exhausted by the whole process. Dad made me shepherd's pie and peas and mum bought me an M&S trifle. Happy days.
Couldn't speak to my brother about the egg harvesting though as he was on a flight from Singapore to Australia although he had phoned me up the day before to sing, "We plough the fields and scatter" and to tell me he was collecting mouldy fruit and out of date tins of spam for my very own"Harvest Festival".
Got thoroughly looked after though and we went to see Tom's mum and sister later on to let them know we were still alive and to give them an update.
Tom later revealed to me the horror of the "men's room" and I collapsed laughing again. Apparently there was a single plastic covered chair, a pot plant and a box marked "reference material". In this box were a load of well thumbed copies of "Voluptuous wives, Playboy, Nuts, Fiesta and Razzle". Tom said it was like being back at school behind the bike sheds. But, the thing that had freaked him out the most was not the plastic chair or the tatty porn mags. He said there was something in there so odd that he had absolutely no idea what possible function it could serve or why on earth it was in there. Apparently, opposite the plastic covered chair, in the tiny tiny men's room was, wait for it...
A full length mirror.
So, separated from the reception desk only by a very thin door, surrounded by cheap mags, towered over by a pot plant and knowing you have to produce a sample within a given time in a room the same temperature as a fridge, you also have an audience of one. No wonder the poor lad had stage fright!
Needless to say, I was completely helpless after this. The thought of poor Tom in that room listening to everyone answering the phone and arriving at the front desk whilst he has to do the deed in his work suit in front of a mirror had me on the floor. I couldn't actually breathe for about half an hour it tickled me that much.
He is still in shock about it and the counselling service that the IVF team make you visit may well have a very traumatised young man to deal with when we go and see them. (It's compulsory to go and visit them but we can't stop laughing at the moment so not sure we actually need to go!)
Anyway, I'm now just sat by the phone and waiting for the embryologists to work their magic and let us know if any have fertilised and if we'll have a Christmas bun to put back in the oven tomorrow. Tom's worked himself up into a complete frenzy as he says I've done my bit and produced 21 eggs and now it's all down to him and he's feeling the pressure. Poor lad. Anyway, will update later today and let you know if (as the Spice girls once sang) "Two become one" and if so, how many.
Love in the meantime though. I'm off to try and be all serious and stop laughing about Tom and that mirror!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
P.S and do you know.... i never once thought about how weird it was that all this was happening on my wedding anniversary until today. Strange how you move on isn't it.
I can't believe I actually slept last night after I slept so much yesterday, I am not so much part hen as part dormouse I think (although not the Heston Blumenthal type that he ate on telly the other day... yuck)
We started yesterday at 5am as Tom is completely anal about being late for anything so had us up with Jack Frost and banging about in the dark well before even the GMTV staff have rubbed the sleep from their eyes. I was shattered as Tom had insisted that I drink two pints of water before bed as I was nil by mouth from midnight. This seemed a good idea at the time but not after your fourth sprint down the landing again in the wee small hours... Tom had also snored like the proverbial pig and so we had had a game of "kicksnore tennis" which is where he serves a massive snore and I return it with a kick. He then moans and apologises, turns over and we begin the next round in approximately 5 minutes. (He also always wins)
I was up and dressed fairly early and waking the neighbours with my rumbling stomach (God I was hungry) and decided upon a black hooded velour tracksuit with black furry ugg type slippers on. All this topped off with woolly hat and the trusty barbour. (How is it that I have not had any wriggly fun for weeks when I dress so provocatively...?)
I'd packed my bag the night before and we set off for the hospital at breakneck speed as, despite there being no traffic on the roads at that time of day and enough time to do 17 loops of the hospital, Tom insisted on auditioning for "The Stig" and so we arrived in town in plenty of time but with whiplash and my nerves shredded to pieces.
We parked the car and walked down to the ACU. Actually that is a lie. We ice skated down to the ACU with Tom managing a particularly excellent triple loop by the bus stop accompanied by a shout of "Don't try and catch me; I'll take you down!" So, that was an audition for Top Gear followed by an audition for Saving Private Ryan to follow.
We arrived at the ACU a little early and had to sit in the waiting room where I wondered why on earth there were piles of cat food everywhere and we had another squabble about the weather in Guilford (Tom was meant to be driving there later but the TV was on and apparently it was forecast blizzards. The cat food turned out to be a collection for the local animal welfare shelter!)
I was relieved to hear about the cat food as the previous day I'd been told that I wouldn't be allowed home until I'd sat up and eaten something but that they didn't keep much on the unit and I could bring in something myself if I'd like. For a few horrible moments I did actually think I was going to have to dig in to a tin of Whiskas.
We were led to our rooms and told I'd be in theatre for about 9am. This gave Tom an hour and a half to do the deed. (God I'm laughing again already!) I kept trying to read my book but just kept sniggering. This was not a good idea as Tom was getting more and more wound up about everything which somehow made it even funnier.
Eventually he was led off to this room with his little pot but he was gone ages! I thought he'd be gone about ten minutes but he was nearly half an hour. I think the poor love had stage fright.
When he did finally return he looked as if he'd witnessed a car accident. He was absolutely ashen and kept mumbling, "I just don't want to talk about it". I swear he was almost rocking. This of course sent me into more uncontrollable laughter to the point where I thought the nurses might come in and call off the whole process as I was obviously not mature enough to cope with anything.
By now I had my theatre gown on, a pair of Christmas knickers, the ugg slippers and a dressing gown so tried to cheer Tom up with my take on Burlesque (you see, the outfit was just so glam and gorgeous that it was a natural connection.) Tom didn't seem to appreciate my efforts to lighten the mood and glued himself to his blackberry to try and take his mind off the trauma and my vile outfit. I was bored by now and had read every single noticeboard, pamphlet and leaflet in the room at least twice. I am now an expert on BMI, folic acid and producing sperm samples at home should you ever need any info in these areas, either in Polish, Urdu or English.
Eventually I was called to go for my op and I walked round to theatre with a man who had the longest beard I've ever seen. I thought I was going to trip over it at one point. It was that huge you could have fashioned me another pair of furry uggs out of it. I got led to my bed and had to take off my dressing gown which left me colder than I've ever been in my life. The lovely staff had put the sheets on the radiator for me but I was still like a frozen oven chip there on the bed. It was so cold that it took almost 10 minutes to get the needle for the anaesthetic into my hand. My veins had gone into hibernation and so the anaesthetist was digging around with that needle for ages - hence the sore hand today. I actually have a bruise which goes from the base of my fingers to halfway down my wrist; it's all swollen too. Ouch.
I was then awarded the "wimp of the day" award as they injected me with some anti sickness medicine. I'm always violently sick after most drugs so when I have anything, I get some special stuff. This is usually added whilst I'm under though but this time it went in first and my god did it hurt. I screamed, yelled and almost sat up on the bed. The nice beardy guy had to do a sort of wrestling move to keep my lying flat and my legs flew out of the stirrups and I almost kicked the embryologist in the face by mistake. It burnt like someone had filled me with boiling acid and gave me the most awful cramp immediately in my shoulder muscle. Luckily, before I could complain much more, or boot any more of the staff in the mouth, I was put under and sent off to la la land.
I woke up back in the little room and saw Tom sitting with the nurse who had done all my egg scans. I tried to talk but I sounded like I'd been on eleven gins. I was all slurry and couldn't quite form a sentence but I managed to establish that there'd been 21 eggs harvested and I fell back to sleep again. Tom whispered that I was really funny and I drifted off wondering how I'd managed to do gags whilst I was unconscious.
I eventually woke up. The nurses apparently had a hell of a job getting me to come round and Tom said I was asleep for absolutely ages. You see, I reckon it was the first kip I'd had where someone wasn't waking me up snoring every five minutes so I was enjoying it. I sat up in bed and had a cup of tea and a biscuit (jammy dodger not cat biscuit thankfully) and we were told we were allowed to go home.
Tom was still giggling as apparently I'd been mumbling and kept asking the staff really weird things whilst I was coming round. These included.... "Where's the wrapping paper?", "You need to move all those boxes in the conservatory" and "Oh God, I need to get to school; I'm late!" Nice to know that I can still worry and nag even when I'm out for the count.
We got back to my mum's as Tom had to go to work and I slept for 5 hours solid. I've got absolutely no pain at all but I think I'm just utterly exhausted by the whole process. Dad made me shepherd's pie and peas and mum bought me an M&S trifle. Happy days.
Couldn't speak to my brother about the egg harvesting though as he was on a flight from Singapore to Australia although he had phoned me up the day before to sing, "We plough the fields and scatter" and to tell me he was collecting mouldy fruit and out of date tins of spam for my very own"Harvest Festival".
Got thoroughly looked after though and we went to see Tom's mum and sister later on to let them know we were still alive and to give them an update.
Tom later revealed to me the horror of the "men's room" and I collapsed laughing again. Apparently there was a single plastic covered chair, a pot plant and a box marked "reference material". In this box were a load of well thumbed copies of "Voluptuous wives, Playboy, Nuts, Fiesta and Razzle". Tom said it was like being back at school behind the bike sheds. But, the thing that had freaked him out the most was not the plastic chair or the tatty porn mags. He said there was something in there so odd that he had absolutely no idea what possible function it could serve or why on earth it was in there. Apparently, opposite the plastic covered chair, in the tiny tiny men's room was, wait for it...
A full length mirror.
So, separated from the reception desk only by a very thin door, surrounded by cheap mags, towered over by a pot plant and knowing you have to produce a sample within a given time in a room the same temperature as a fridge, you also have an audience of one. No wonder the poor lad had stage fright!
Needless to say, I was completely helpless after this. The thought of poor Tom in that room listening to everyone answering the phone and arriving at the front desk whilst he has to do the deed in his work suit in front of a mirror had me on the floor. I couldn't actually breathe for about half an hour it tickled me that much.
He is still in shock about it and the counselling service that the IVF team make you visit may well have a very traumatised young man to deal with when we go and see them. (It's compulsory to go and visit them but we can't stop laughing at the moment so not sure we actually need to go!)
Anyway, I'm now just sat by the phone and waiting for the embryologists to work their magic and let us know if any have fertilised and if we'll have a Christmas bun to put back in the oven tomorrow. Tom's worked himself up into a complete frenzy as he says I've done my bit and produced 21 eggs and now it's all down to him and he's feeling the pressure. Poor lad. Anyway, will update later today and let you know if (as the Spice girls once sang) "Two become one" and if so, how many.
Love in the meantime though. I'm off to try and be all serious and stop laughing about Tom and that mirror!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
P.S and do you know.... i never once thought about how weird it was that all this was happening on my wedding anniversary until today. Strange how you move on isn't it.
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