Accepted

Accepted

So I have news!!! Wonderful, wonderful news! I got accepted for IVF!!!! I’m officially on the waiting list!!! Now, I know this is no way a guarantee that I’ll have a baby, but I already feel so much more positive about everything,  The Assisted Conception team told me that artificial insemination wasn’t right for me for whatever reason (I’m sure they told me, but I heard the words “I.VF” and forgot everything else they said).

So, why did I qualify if I’ve been pregnant multiple times in the past few years? I know people might be wondering about this. I’ve been trying for a child for 3 years now with no success and no explained cause for my miscarriages or my now, new sudden struggle to conceive – so that essentially qualifies me as having some form of infertility. The fact I have a stepson also doesn’t matter – it used to, but they’ve changed that rule. (I should say that this is Scotlands rulings, so anywhere else could be (and I think is) entirely different.

I’m in the process of getting blood tests, and my next appointment isn’t until February, but it’s all pretty exciting. I’ll qualify for 3 rounds of free IVF on the NHS (we’re exceptionally lucky in this country), so I hope with all my heart that one of these will be successful! I’ll of course keep everyone updated with what’s going on! I’m so excited and nervous and happy and scared and anxious and giddy and every other emotion you can fit in to my little body…… except sad…..I’m not sad.

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Assisted Conception

Assisted Conception


Well folks.. I’ve hit the year mark. One year since I was last pregnant. I literally ran to my doctors to tell him TO GET ME ON SOME SORT OF LIST!! (That was actually my words by the way. “Some sort of list”)

Anyway, he was wonderful (I’ve moved house so I have a new GP and I honestly believe he actually likes his job because he is unbelievably nice and helpful)

I now have appointments for my blood to be taken, my hubby has his appointment, i have to go see the nurses at the assisted conception unit.. It’s all go from here..

They test to see if I’m ovulating (I tried to tell him i know I am, but they need proof) and then hopefully they’ll do artificial insemination first before IVF. But again, I’ll have another long wait. My doctor told me to keep banging them out (ok he never used that term, he’s a professional for goodness sake) .. but I’ve to keep trying in the meantime.

I’ve been thinking of giving myself until I’m about 35, 36. Now I know it’s not old, but that’ll be almost 10 years of my life and to be honest.. that’s enough. for me. That’s a long time to have this cloud hanging over you. Every woman has their own idea of when to stop, and I just feel that this would be right for me. I know that I can’t do this forever – physically or emotionally -and I think coming to terms with that is the right thing to do.

But no, wait. That sounds negative. And I’m being positive positive positive today. This WILL happen!

*my husband is really looking forward to the whole sperm in a cup part of the testing* 😂😂

(the one time being a man is harder! – no pun intended)

IVF?

IVF?

So next month will mark a year since I was last pregnant. 

I’ll be 31 in November so while I know I’m not particularly old, I know that time is ticking on

Can anyone offer advice? Would I qualify for IVF even though I’ve been pregnant before.. multiple times, but never had a successful one. I don’t want to keep hoping for a miracle for another 3 years… If I need help, I’d want to get it as soon as I can. 

So yea.. any IVF women, I’d love to hear from you! (I live in Scotland, so I’m guessing things will be different here than U.S etc but I’d still appreciate any advice!)

Twisted Cyst 

Twisted Cyst 

So I’m pretty angry. Fuming actually. I had an ovarian cyst discovered about two and a half years ago, and at the time it was decided that it wasn’t affecting my fertility or causing my miscarriages.

Fast forward about a year and after various other tests they decided that they would remove it as a precaution. I received an appointment over a year ago but had to cancel as I was pregnant. Obviously that ended in a loss so I called back to reschedule and heard nothing.

At my MRI 4 months ago it was measured again. It had grown to 5x5x6cm. I never knew this. I was never told it had grew. I still never got an appointment.

Around a week ago i had awful pain in my stomach – like an intense stabbing pain that would turn into severe cramps and back to stabbing again over and ovet again. The level of pain went from about a 3 out of 10 to about a 7.. it was bearable, but it was never ok.

I somehow managed to pop some painkillers and sleep it off until I woke the next morning in agony. Pain I’ve never felt before..I went to A&E but the pain had subsided by the time I got there, So they took my BP and bloods and sent me home.

Next day – same thing. The pain came back. It was worse. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t get dressed, I couldn’t do anything. I was in tears. No-one was home so I called Nikki at work and he told me to call an ambulance and get back to A&E and he would meet me there.

After pleading with them to do something, the doctors agreed to scan me. It was discovered my cyst had grown to at least 8cm, and had twisted around my fallopian tube causing that to become swollen and of course.. causing me to be bloody agony!

The doctor cooly explained that I would need inmediate surgery and probably need to have my ovary removed. I immediately burst into tears. He tried to reassure me but it was useless. I couldnt think logically or calmy. I was frightened and sore and upset. All i could think was why was this happening?! Why me?

I woke up after my surgery and was told that i didnt need my tube removed and only a small part of my ovary was removed meaning it should work normally.

The surgeon told me the cyst wasn’t helping matters when it came to TTC or my miscarriages.

I feel I was forgotten about. Did this cause long-term damage?

 

 

Time

Time

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. I’m almost certain I’ve started a post with that sentence before. Sometimes if there’s not much to report, or I feel like I’m constantly being negative then I won’t blog. I should; this is the place for honest thoughts afterall, but I talk myself out of it. I’m working on it.

It’s a few months shy of the 3 year mark. 3 years TTC is a long time believe me. It’s not just the miscarriages that takes it toll.. it’s the time. The time it takes to fall pregnant, the agonising time it takes your body to realise it’s not ready for that baby yet, the time it takes to physically recover, and of course, the time it takes to emotionally recover.

1 pregnancy can take up the most of your year and you haven’t even had the chance to give birth yet. It’s a lot to deal with.

It’s frustrating, it’s draining, it’s heart breaking, it’s stressful, it’s exhausting, it’s annoying, it’s upsetting… the list goes on and on…

While I’m trying to heal emotionally, I sometimes go through the “what if my husband gets fed up and leaves me for someone that can just pop em out” stage. Is that an official stage of grief? Stage 3 – crazy irrational thoughts. If it’s not it should be. We need to know its normal to be crazy sometimes.  And of course I know it’s irrational, my husband isn’t with me solely for my (in)ability to have children, but I’ll be honest; I’m not always rational Ok? I worry. I get upset. I get stressed. Stress is bad for baby making. Is it? Oh silly me, I didn’t realise. Well now I’m not stressed. (By the way, while we’re on that subject – I’m pretty certain women in war zones still get pregnant, and hell – they’re a lot more stressed than I am!)

I guess in a way the actual losses have got easier over time; there’s a process you go through, you learn to cope with that part of things. You tell yourself there must have been a reason – you might not always know the reason – but there still is one.

But this…  how do you get over constantly trying and failing when all you’re ever doing is trying and failing?

M.R.I

M.R.I

My mum lost her hearing in one of her ears a few years ago and the doctors never knew what caused it. She was booked in for an M.R.I scan, but ended up not going through with it saying she felt too frightened and claustrophobic. I told her she was being ridiculous, that if its going to help, well she should just bloody do it.

Mere hours after my own M.R.I, I phoned to apologise to her. I now understood exactly what she meant.

The nurses told me to remove all jewellery, piercings and kirbies (bobby pins).Simple right? Not for me. I have a…lets say..intimate piercing that is impossible to remove on my own. I sheepishly explained this and was told that I might need to go home as the piercings can “explode” and rip out whatever part of the body it’s attached to. Then another nurse came, handed me a magnet and told me to hold it against my..well, my coochie… to see if the piercing was magnetised. It wasn’t, so she said I would be safe to go in and there would be no exploding vaginas to worry about!

I put on my gown and answered some basic health and safety questions, then was warned that the IV buscopan that I was about to receive might make my vision blurred, and that on rare occasions, tattoos can heat excessively during an MRI, and if this happens I should push the buzzer and they’ll take me out (I have about 27 tattoos so this wasn’t particularly pleasant news). So now I’m worried about going blind, having exploding genitals and burning from the inside out. Great. What a morning.

I lay on the bed thing, and 2 boards were placed on top of me and fastened to the bed so that my arms were trapped by my side, rendering me unable to move. I was told I’d be lying under the machine for an hour. An HOUR! As I started to be moved in, I immediately knew what my mum meant – it was horrible. I felt trapped and couldn’t see anything around me apart from the white machine.. They gave me earphones, but it was impossible to concentrate on the music over the hums, and beeps and murmurs of the machine.

About 30mins in, I needed to sneeze. Shit. I’m not supposed to move in here right? It came and went twice, until I couldn’t stop it. Twice. Two sneezes! I tried to stifle it, which only resulted in my eyes watering. I could feel a small steady stream of tears rolling down my face. I couldn’t life my arm to wipe it. Uhoh, now my nose was running. Bogies slowly dripped down my face. Oh god, its going in my mouth, its going in my mouth. I turned my head ever so slightly to try send the snotters off course. Result! They bypassed my mouth and continued rolling down my chin and on to my neck. Crap, there goes my eyes again. More tears were coming. My face was a soggy mess and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Finally, the murmurs stopped and I started to move backwards. The nurses appeared and unstrapped the boards. I could finally lift my hands and wipe my wet, snotter soaked face. It was over.

Or was it? Maybe that was that the easy part?

 

 

Appointments/Announcements/Apologies

Appointments/Announcements/Apologies

Everyone around me is pregnant. Or has spent the last 9 months being pregnant. It’s hard. It’s hard to be happy for everyone. I know its totally unreasonable and completely selfish, but I’m really struggling to feign interest and excitement for people.

My social media is filled with bumps and babies. A few work colleagues have been busy thrusting new baby photos in my direction, and I know I’m expected to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ and ask “what did she weigh”, “was it a long labour” – when really – I couldn’t give a shit. It’s not MY pregnancy, its not MY labour, or MY baby. I’m still waiting here at back at page 1, so take your happiness and shove it.

OK OK.. I don’t mean that. Not all the time anyway. I AM happy for people, of course I am. I’m not the devil incarnate… I’m not a horrible person. it’s just that my happiness is occasionally overshadowed by my.. well.. jealousy.

Cos that’s what it is isn’t it? I’m jealous. I can admit it. I’m jealous of the people that have 3 babies or “accidentally ” fell pregnant, or the people that instagram their bumps. It’s bloody hard.

I have MRI appointments and also with a genetics clinic to see if there’s something in my genealogy that’s causing the problems. The doctors really don’t know what’s going on, but I appreciate everything they’re doing for me. I would love for something to come back and say “Yup Mrs McGowan, this little thing here is the reason. Take this pill and fix it. Now go have babies”…. but I’m really not confident it’s going to go that way.

Bloody receptionists!

Bloody receptionists!

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If I had been face-to-face with the receptionist at my GP surgery today, I would have threw my shoe at her. Without hesitation. Well, I’d at least have given her a piece of mind (I like my shoes too much).

Background first – I have been to my GP after every miscarriage, either for a sick-line to hand in at work or a blood test or whatever, so they’re more than aware of my “history”. The ‘on call’ doctor was bloody brilliant – made me feel very reassured and calm. My regular doctor? Well he’s certainly not did any sympathy training recently. I have fought to get where I am in terms of the medical help I’m receiving – he hasn’t helped with any part of it (oh except offering to give me folic acid on prescription). I’ve did the research, I’ve asked the questions, I’ve brought up the subject of progesterone/aspirin/acupuncture/further tests. My GP has done bugger all to be honest.

Middle part – After my appointment at the RMC clinic, it was agreed that I was a “good candidate” for progesterone and the specialist told me I could get this from my ever so helpful GP. (the specialists have been fantastic by the way). I phoned my GP and was quickly dismissed, with him saying he can’t give me anything until he receives confirmation letter from the hospital (yeah cos I quite fancy getting high off the progesterone). Anyway – fine – I guess he has an oath or some bollocks…. but I explained that I was eager to have it so it was all sorted for when I got my next positive test so could he update me as soon as the letter was received.

Today – I call to find out if they’ve got the letter yet and the lovely receptionist says she can check. (re-read that sentence but make sure you say ‘lovely’ with a sarcastic tone to really get in the swing of this post). She tells me that it was indeed received – 20 DAYS AGO… Now that’s not a typo. TWENTY days. She says “there is no further action required” so progesterone hasn’t actually been prescribed yet. I ask her if I can please speak to my GP as I would really like to be assured that I will be able to get this AS SOON as I fall pregnant.  “But you’ve to take it when you’re pregnant, not now. You aren’t pregnant.” she says… I’m aware how to bloody take it you stupid woman. All I want to know is if it’ll be there when I need it! So I ask again to speak to my GP and do you know what she said to me?! Do you want to know?

“We actually recommended that you don’t get pregnant until your MRI scan”

WE?! WE?!?! Who the fuck are WE?!

I lost it then. I screamed that if she bothered to look at the rest of my notes, she would see I’ve had 5 bloody miscarriages and I WILL be getting progesterone and I certainly wont be taking advice from a receptionist and I will not be told by a receptionist what to do with MY body and I want to speak to my GP right NOW and not continue this conversation with someone who is completely unqualified to be giving any sort of medical advice!

Honest to God. It never got much better either to be honest. My GP called back and started going on about possible side effects and how the recent medical studies aren’t conclusive. All I want is some bloody drugs for my incompetent vagina. For fuck sake.