IVF - the 2ww is over

Having had 10 eggs collected and all 10 fertilising, we were waiting for the Saturday morning phone call to inform us of how well they were developing and whether the embryo transfer would be that day or Monday. I was desperately hoping for Monday as this would mean they were stronger (it also meant we would still be able to go away on our planned weekend trip to the Peaks with all our friends!). We got the call at 8.15am and were told that the transfer was booked for midday on Monday, amazingly all 10 were still developing well and hopefully we would have some good blastocysts to choose from come Monday.

We spent a large part of the weekend discussing how many blastocysts to have transferred. Throughout the process we have been strongly advised that on a day 3 embryo transfer you should go for two (as they have less chance of surviving), but on a day 5 you should only have one, due to the high risk of multiple pregnancy. Ultimately though, it would be our decision, regardless of what we were told. I was surprised when DH started the discussion with the pros of having two transferred. In my mind I had just assumed we'd follow the advice of the doctors. The clinic does not promote multiple pregnancies, apparently there are lots of risks to the babies and mother. It turned out that DH had done a lot of research and he said the 'increased risks' were so minimal anyway that they were irrelevant. He said that statistics are always manipulated to make the point that you want and in this case the NHS wouldn't want multiple births as there would be far more after care needed which would cost more money etc. I think I have mentioned before how good DH is at debating, so of course he had completely changed my mind and I was fairly sure we would go for two. Even when I told him there would be a chance of triplets or at least twins, he didn't appear deterred. As far as he was concerned it would be easier to have two babies in one go, than one now and another in a couple of years. I love the idea of twins, although I know how hard that would be. Over the course of the weekend my mind must have changed about ten times. One of my friends (who is pregnant with her second) almost put me off having any transferred altogether, with her talk of how exhausting it is and how difficult it is with a dog too and how you have no time to even go to the toilet let alone have any sort of life. Whilst another friend told me it's easy as long as you relax and you enjoy it.

On our journey to the clinic on Monday morning I still hadn't decided what to do. DH said it would be my decision, not his. Eventually I came to the conclusion that if we were told we had one blastocysts that was better quality then all the others, then we'd go for one, if not we'd have two. Our previous visit to the clinic had been very early and we had been the only people there. The waiting room on this occasion was full of awkward looking couples having stilted conversations. There was a large mirror, which had now become a window into the laboratory. I was fascinated and felt like a small child at an aquarium, staring at the embryologists as they studied things under their microscopes. When it was our turn we were led into a sterile room, just off the main lab. The embryologist explained that three of our ten had made it to the blastocyst stage. One was very good quality and the other two were good. I asked what grade they were, a 4BB+ and the other two were 3BB (not that I really understood the grading system). She said that she was very fussy with embryos and that mine were very good, if we put two in, there would be an incredibly high chance of a multiple pregnancy. I stuck to the decision I had made in the car and asked to have the best one transferred and the other two frozen. I was then asked to get into the familiar dignified position of legs in the stirrups with my bottom half stripped off and covered with a small sheet. This time I had an over the belly ultrasound scan. They talked us through the whole procedure as we watched it on the monitor. The thin white line we could see was the catheter through which the embryo would be inserted. What looked like a mini explosion at the end of this white line was the embryo with the fluid being injected. And that was it. Probably one of the strangest experiences of my life. If the embryo was going to implant it would do so within the next 24 hours. We were given a pregnancy test and instructed when to use it.

So now came the dreaded two week wait that so many people had said was the most stressful period of the treatment. I was so busy at work the first week that I barely thought about it. The second week was the start of the Easter holidays, but I still managed to busy myself with school work, gardening, dog walking and genuinely did not feel any stress. Not being allowed to exercise properly I found that I was incredibly restless and struggled to sleep properly (perhaps this was stress that I just hadn't recognised as such). DH also put it down to the progesterone I was taking. The end of the 2ww came a lot quicker than I was expecting. The pregnancy test was to be done with the first wee of the morning. I read the instructions carefully  and followed them step by step. The 'control line' turns pink immediately and the 'test line' will turn pink within three minutes if it is positive. If no line appears, this means a negative result.The instructions told me to discard the test after 3 minutes as it is not accurate then. I set my stopwatch and stared at the blank space where the pink line should appear. Nothing. My stopwatch hit 3 minutes and not even an inkling of a pink line. My heart sank, I started welling up, I had been here before. But this time there had actually been an embryo inside me. I picked up the test and stared at it. Was I imagining it because I so desperately wanted to see it, or was there actually a faint pink link appearing. I took it into the bedroom where DH was still asleep and waved it in front of his face. He was so bleary eyed he couldn't make out anything. 'I can see one pink line next to the C, but no I can't see anything by the T' he said. After about 10 minutes when his eyes were working properly he looked again. 'hmmm, actually I can see it'. Well what the hell does it mean am I pregnant or not? The line appeared after about 5 minutes and the instructions said to discard after 3 minutes, but why? Surely it wouldn't change colour if I wasn't pregnant. I had to wait until it was time for the supermarket to open and I bought the most expensive clear blue test I could find. A digital one that says pregnant or not pregnant, then there can be no mistaking the result. I raced back home to re-test. Again, according to the instructions, the result would be displayed within 3 minutes. An agonising wait as the display flashed with an egg timer symbol, heart pounding, not wanting to look at it, but compelled to do so. Suddenly one word appeared - Pregnant. I stared at it in disbelief,  my eyes welled up again, but for a good reason this time. I jumped back into bed and waved the display in front of DH's face (again). We didn't really say anything, we just lay there snuggling.

I phoned the clinic and they booked me for a scan in 3 weeks time. This 3 week wait I think is going to be the most difficult and stressful time. I have lost count of how many times I looked at the test throughout the day. I actually don't believe it and I won't until I have that scan. Anything could happen within the next few weeks though. I don't feel like I'm pregnant, I don't feel any different. I'm almost tempted to do another test, but scared that it might say I'm not pregnant. I'm trying not to let myself get excited, but it's hard not to. If everything goes well, we'll be having a Christmas baby.

binkylinky

Amazing IVF treatment through NHS

I have been so impressed with the NHS and Cotswold Fertility Unit. We have been treated so well and it's been very personal, certainly not the clinical process I was expecting (partly due to all our appointments being at a discreet location in a nice Georgian lodge). Back in January we had our planning consultation where we were talked through the whole IVF process. It is is incredible what goes in to making a diddy little embryo.

I am a fairly pragmatic person. Although I am naturally excited about the prospect of a baby, I have remained realistic and level headed. Over the past six weeks I have broken the treatment down into chunks and to be honest, tried not to really think about the potential outcome. My treatment schedule indicated that I would need to sniff for just over 3 weeks, at which point I would have a scan and a blood test to determine whether down regulation had occurred. As always the staff at the clinic were efficient and friendly. I was told that I have an amazing uterus - well that's some accolade! I was shown how to inject myself with the stims which, until that point, I hadn't been vaguely bothered by. Suddenly the half inch needle looked more like a harpoon. The purpose of the injections is to overstimulate the ovaries so that lots of follicles ripen at the same time, instead of just one, as happens in normal ovulation. The following day I administered my first injection. At first I asked DH to do it for me, but the look on his face told me he was more scared than I was. I took the sheath off the needle, set the dial to release the correct amount of fluid and stared at it. Every time I moved it towards my belly I shrieked and bottled it. Eventually after 15 minutes of dithering I jabbed it in. It actually wasn't that bad, the anticipation was far worse than the experience.

I carried on with my normal activities, which included a 5 mile hill run, playing a 90 minute football match and a weight training session. I felt absolutely fine. I then read on a forum that once you start the stims you shouldn't exercise. Oh crap, I'd done loads. I knew that I would not be allowed to play any sport after the egg collection, but I hadn't mentally prepared myself for stopping prior to this. Sport is a huge part of my life and will be my biggest sacrifice should I become pregnant. I took it easy for the next few days until my 'day 9 ' scan and blood test. By now I was beginning to feel slightly tender and I was not surprised to be told that there was now way I'd be playing football that weekend. The nurse counted 11 follicles, all measuring around 11mm. She told me my ovaries were the size of small oranges -wow that's huge! Normally ovaries are about the size of almonds. No wonder they were feeling tender. I couldn't risk anything that would potentially damage them.

On day 12 of the stims I went for another scan and blood test. "You have lovely follicles" the nurse told me "everything looks perfect, you're a text book case" she said. The follicles were now measuring around 18mm, ideal for harvesting! Later that afternoon, once my bloods had been analysed, I was told that my egg collection was booked for 8.15am in two days time. I would need to take the HCG injection at exactly 7.15pm that night. This injection matures the eggs at exactly the right time. We needed to be in Oxford for the EC at 7.15am. We didn't want the stress of getting up at stupid o'clock and battling with the traffic, so we booked a nice hotel 10 minutes from the clinic and made a bit of an evening out of it.

True to form the treatment we received was second to none. The egg collection was done under sedation, which apparently means you are still conscious. To me it felt no different to the general anaesthetic I had had last year, I was completely out of it. Back in our private room after the treatment I was given a hot chocolate and slipped in and out of a pleasant sleep. The embryologist came in and informed us that they had collected 10 eggs and DH's sperm looked good. They would be incubated in a special fluid overnight and we would get a phone call in the morning telling us how many had fertilised. For the first time it was beginning to feel real.

I didn't know what time to expect the phone call. I sat in the kitchen listening to Chris Evans on the radio, writing this blog post and waiting for my phone to ring. How would I feel if none of them had fertilised? I had done some research the previous night and found statistics that suggested the average number of eggs collected was 8-15 and of those, 70% usually fertilise. Surely our chances were good. Finally the phone rang, my heart started racing and I almost dropped my phone. On the other end of the phone the embryologist spoke calmly and asked how I was feeling after the procedure (surprisingly good actually). I nervously anticipated her next words.. "I am happy to tell you that all 10 eggs have fertilised" .... wow! 100% fertilisation!! After hanging up I burst into tears. I really didn't understand what I was feeling. I began to realise that for the first time I was emotionally attached to the whole experience. Up until now it has just been a process that I have been going through. Now, suddenly, there were 10 embryos made of me and DH, in an incubator 40 miles away. Surreal. Weird. Mind boggling.

As I write this I am about nine hours away from finding out how our embryos have developed and whether they are strong enough to be cultured to day 5, where they become blastocysts. This would be the ideal outcome, as it means they can select the strongest one to pop back inside me and it has more chance of resulting in a pregnancy. If not, then they would do the transfer tomorrow. Hopefully I will be sharing good news with my next post.

My Psychic Stepmother

My step mother has been married to my Dad for about 15 years, but I have known her all my life. She also happens to be my Godmother and was my Mum's best friend at school (a different story for another time, my mum passed away when I was 16, almost 20 years ago). She is someone that I trust implicitly and have a great deal of respect for. WSM (Wicked Step Mother, as she calls herself)  has never hidden her 'psychic senses' from us, even as young children. I always saw it as something quite normal, probably because she is so down to earth and doesn't turn it into some sort of ridiculous spectacle.  She is very spiritual and never forces her spirituality or psychic messages upon anyone. She has a degree in psychology, worked as a primary school teacher for most of her working life and is incredibly intuitive. Although I say I am sceptical I'm not sure I actually am. I think I say that so other people don't think I'm crazy when I talk about it. There have been too many things that she has predicted for it to be simple coincidence.

I don't fully understand how WSM experiences these psychic happenings. I know that she can sense spirits and sometimes sees them. I know that she can see people's auras and feel them. I know that she can read palms. But mostly, she just says things at random, often with an "ooh I felt a really strong psychic shiver then, look at my goose bumps". About 3 years ago or so she was reading my palm, when she said "I can see twins. Well this is strange, I've known for a very long time that I would be grandmother to twins, but never considered that it could be through you as my stepdaughter, I'll be amazed if I am wrong about this". Her son and his wife finally had a child about seven years ago after three failed IVF attempts and there was no chance of them having any more. Her daughter, in her late thirties, had severe endometriosis and had married a man 23 years her senior, so WSM had written off any chance of grandchildren through them. I got quite excited about the thought of having twins, being a twin myself I know how incredible it is. I held on to this one message and didn't worry when I didn't fall pregnant straight away. It doesn't matter I thought, I know I'm going to have twins at some point in the future. About two years later WSM called me 'I have some amazing news she said, I'm going to be a grandmother again, Laura is pregnant with twins, we're all so surprised and delighted!' My heart sank. I felt awful that I didn't feel happier for Laura. Of course this was amazing for her, it turned out they had been trying for seven years since they had got married. I hid my feelings from WSM, but I think she knew how upset I was that it wasn't me who was pregnant with twins and that clearly when she had been psyching in with me a few years ago, she had been psyching in to her life and not mine.

When we met up just after Christmas (2013) she experienced one of those feelings again. Since we have started on the IVF journey a lot of conversations are often dominated by the talk of potential babies. As we were chatting she said "you will have a baby next year", but she said it with such certainty that she surprised herself by the force of her statement. I asked if it was her speaking or the spirits. She wasn't entirely sure and said it was probably a mix of both. She then suggested something I had never tried before; dowsing, not the type where you use a stick to find water, but pendulum dowsing. I believe it is an old technique that was often used to predict the gender of unborn babies.

Pendulum dowsing works by holding a pendulum (usually a necklace) over your palm and asking the spirits to answer yes/no questions. The pendulum will either swing back and forth or go around in circles. The first thing you need to establish is which one means yes and which one means no. So you ask questions that you already know the answer to. We sat at the kitchen table and began, my Dad and DH looking at us somewhat bemused - I'm not sure either of them really believes in any of this. WSM used her own necklace and pendant and held it out above my palm, after doing some sort of ritual to ensure the spirits were happy to help us. After we had established that a circular motion meant yes and a forward and backward motion meant no, we started asking the questions that we really wanted to know the answers to. I wasn't quite sure where to start and I can't now remember everything that we asked, but this is what I do remember:
Will I have a baby next year? Yes
Will I have twins? No
Will the baby be a girl? Yes
Will the baby be a boy? No
For some reason I felt a bit embarrassed asking the questions. I asked WSM if I could ask the questions in my head, not a problem she answered. I think I did this in case I got answers that I didn't want. It also meant that WSM couldn't subconsciously influence the movement of the pendant, as she had no idea what I was asking. I started by testing the method and asking the same questions that I had already asked, I got the exact same answers. I started asking a few more risky questions:
Will the baby be healthy? the pendulum was slow to move, it started by circling, then changed to moving back and forth. "I think that's a no" WSM said. She must have noticed a reaction in my face, as she asked if I was OK with that answer. I nodded and said it was fine. I didn't want to tell anyone what I had asked, so I kept it to myself.
Will this cycle of IVF be successful? No
Will I have a baby next year? Yes
I started to doubt things. My planned IVF cycle would finish with the embryo transfer at the end of March, which would mean a Christmas baby. If this IVF cycle isn't successful the only other way I'd be having a baby this year would be if I got pregnant naturally before the start of the IVF treatment - highly unlikely.
Will I conceive naturally? Nothing, no movement from the pendulum at all. WSM looked at me and said "you're obvioulsy not meant to know the answer to that question"
We finished the dowsing, but I was left feeling confused. I decided just to take on board the answers that I liked,  such as 'yes, I will be having a baby next year'. I'll find out soon enough whether this dowsing malarkey has any value or whether it is just a load of mumbo-jumbo!

The next step...

After about 18 months of 'trying for a baby' I thought it would be wise to speak to my doctor about investigating our fertility. Initially a very simple process, just go for the blood tests at the correct time during your cycle and hey presto they can determine the basics regarding your fertility. My tests revealed that my hormones were at the right levels and I appeared to be ovulating without any problems. DH, understandably, was somewhat reluctant to go for his sperm analysis. As I have previously said, he was terrified of what the result might be, not for his sake, but for mine. I think he also felt like he was having his manliness questioned. I didn't push, I knew he needed to do it in his own time. Eventually he went and the results came back showing that everything was normal, wow what a relief! But if everything is normal, why aren't we pregnant yet?

We were referred to a consultant gynaecologist at the hospital for further investigations. At our first consultation I had an internal scan  which revealed normal ovaries and a sufficient number of eggs, she counted about 6 in each ovary. However, she had suspicions about endometriosis because of symptoms I'd described and something she had spotted on the scan. She told me that I would be referred for a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy where they would be able to treat the endo if they found it and basically give my reproductive system a bit of a service. This was likely to happen in about 5-6 months, in the meantime keep trying, "hopefully I won't be seeing you again" she said.

I was amazed when, a month later, I got an appointment through for the surgery. In a strange way I was quite excited, I wondered what they would discover. I actually quite enjoyed going under and the strange sensation of coming round. As I was regaining consciousness a doctor sat by my side and said you won't remember this conversation, but I'll tell you anyway and you'll get it all in a letter within a few days. We found endometriosis which we zapped away, so your tubes are nice and clean now, hopefully you'll get pregnant within the next few months. I was really hopeful after this. The letter came through, as he had promised, and also mentioned something about 'tubal factor muscular damage' there was no more detail about this. There was a follow up appointment booked for 3 months time. I didn't conceive.

At the follow up consultation we were shown detailed pictures form my surgery (quite fascinating) the most revealing of which was one that showed how my tubes had pooled with the blue dye instead of just pushing it straight through. Essentially I have lazy tubes. This, the gynaecologist told us, was the only thing that she thought was preventing us from conceiving naturally. We were informed that the next step was IVF. Our gynaecologist is a very efficient woman and gets straight to the point. There was no discussion as to whether we wanted to go down this route, it was  just assumed. I was quite happy, DH looked more like a rabbit caught in the headlights. This doesn't mean you can't conceive naturally she told us, so keep trying and hopefully I won't see you again. This must be her trademark way of ending every consultation.

Knowing a number of friends who have had IVF treatment through the NHS I was naturally expecting an 18 month wait."How long will it be until treatment starts?" I asked. "Well, you could be all done within 5-6 months, we don't do waiting lists in Cheltenham!" Wow. Looks like the post code lottery has worked in our favour. We're getting the same level and speed of treatment as if we had paid privately. And three attempts. I really do appreciate how lucky I am.

What if we can't conceive?

When we first started trying I thought I would be pregnant by the end of that year (secretly I thought it would happen straight away!). It didn't happen. I went through phases of becoming a little preoccupied with my cycle, studying the fertility app that I had downloaded on my phone on a daily basis. I didn't like forcing sex when I was in my fertile window. Neither of us enjoyed it as much and I think DH actually felt used, as if I only wanted him for his sperm. After about a year we had a big heart to heart and agreed to give it a rest for a while and just see what happened. DH was relieved and I found it refreshing not to be monitoring my cycle so closely.

About four months later, on a beautiful summer camping trip in Exmoor, we started discussing what we would do if it turned out we couldn't conceive naturally. I was shocked to discover that DH was petrified of what I would think, feel and do if he was infertile. I reassured him that it would make no difference to my love for him and my commitment to him. I have always believed in things happening for a reason, even when it appears to be something awful I'll always try to take something positive from it. If we can't conceive, perhaps we're just not meant to. We had a deep conversation about the ethics of IVF and we decided at the time, if it came to it, we wouldn't go down that route.

DH then made a very contentious point about having children. Any parents reading this may well be offended. "Having a child is the most selfish thing you can do" he said "What!!? How can it be?" I asked.
I should mention that DH is a very effective debater and can always make his point of view out to be the most valid one. Perhaps this is why we never argue, I'd never stand a chance of winning! He went on to suggest that surely choosing to have a child is all for your own sake. You're not having a child for the child's sake, it doesn't exist yet. You're not having a child to benefit the community or society in any way. In fact having a child will just increase the population and the strain on the country's resources and economy. A person chooses to have a child for purely selfish reasons. I attempted to counter his argument; when the baby is born the parents become selfless, they give everything into that child's life to ensure it's health and happiness. Well, yes, of course, but that doesn't negate the fact that the parents chose to do that and that they chose to do it for their own selfish reasons and fulfilment. I couldn't help but agree. The title of my first post on this blog springs to mind, why do I want a baby? I don't know, I just want one!  Can I give any reason for wanting a baby that is not selfish? No.

We talked about adoption and instantly I could see that DH would rather adopt a child than father his own. He would then be doing something that is helping and making a difference to someone's life. It made sense, he's a compassionate and caring man and is certainly not selfish. A few months later I found out that a friend was going through the adoption process. They had been jumping through hoops for months and had finally been approved for adoption. The conversation made me realise how difficult adoption would be. People don't give up healthy babies any more. My friend told me that the vast majority of children that need adopting have severe 'psychological damage' (for want of a better expression) due to the mental/physical abuse they have suffered. Adoption is not a light decision, it is not a simple alternative to having a baby of your own. I truly admire anyone who adopts and although I love the idea of changing a child's life, I just don't think I have the mental strength for it. The question of what we will do if we can't conceive, I know is a question that will be answered by me. Despite his opinions and feelings towards having a baby I know DH will not debate this and ultimately it will be my decision. Whatever that is I also know I will have his full support.

Why do I want a baby?

I think, as many women do, that I have always assumed my life would follow a certain path; a happy marriage, a good job, a nice house and kids. Well, I've I achieved the first three, but 'kids' is where I've hit a stumbling block. My desire to get pregnant has grown, a lot, over the past four years. But why? I have no idea why I feel the need and want for a baby in our life. I have what I consider a perfect life, why on earth would I want to change that?! I love my life. I married my soul-mate and we have an incredible marriage, we enjoy every day we spend together and to this day we have never had an argument or even raised our voices to each other. We have our dog, essentially our baby who is more like a little pony (he weighs 35kg). Although he is 'only a dog' we love him dearly and he brings so much joy to our lives. He was not an easy puppy, far from it! Many of our friends, who have children themselves, have said to us that if we managed to cope with him, we'll find kids a breeze. I'd like to believe that.

So, back to my desire for a baby, or is it just the pregnancy I want? I have a mild obsession with pregnant bumps. I think they are beautiful and I have yearned for a bump of my own for years.I have to suppress the urge to stroke the bellies of expectant mothers I meet (I would only ever ask to feel the bump of a friend). From a young age I have always cooed around babies, I love children. Yet I still cannot explain why I want one of my own. The only thing I can put in down to is a natural maternal instinct, even if that does sound a bit clichéd.

What about Hubby though, how does he feel about children? In a nutshell he doesn't like babies and has never wanted to father one. However, before he proposed to me he knew and understood that marriage would include children, but we never really discussed it. I first started tentatively suggesting that we start trying (well stop trying not to) for a baby about three years ago. I do worry about Hubby. I feel very selfish and often question whether we should be doing this. I love him so much, so why am I forcing him to do this? But, he loves me so much that he wants to give me everything he can. I believe that the moment we have a baby, Hubby will discover his paternal instinct and will be a fantastic father. Friends and family often say 'it will be different when it's your own'. I hold on to this thought and I have to, anything else is unthinkable. What if he's not different, what if he doesn't want to hold his own baby, what if he ends up resenting me and the baby. These are fleeting thoughts and worries I have. However, he has strong values and morals and is such a decent man that he will always do right by his family.