... So, DH and I decided that we should probably broach the subjects of adoption and fostering with DS. Test the waters so to speak.
DS and I have had numerous conversations over the last couple of years around why he doesn't have a brother or sister; I think he has struggled to understand and at times has become cross that while his friends have someone to play with at all times, he doesn't and despite DH and I laughingly correcting him that he isn't infact a 'lonely child' but an 'only child'...We have worried that this is how he perceives himself.
The best explanation I could give him (we've tried to be as age-appropriately honest as possible with him) was just last month when we had the usual tantrum when it was time for his friend to go home - a very vocal objection to the fact that while his friend got to go home and play with his brothers, DS would now spend the rest of the evening alone. After swallowing my hurt firmly down (I 100% realise that my 6 year old is in no way trying to hurt me with his frustration), we had a lovely chat where I explained that the part in mummy's where they grow babies doesn't work in me - that it's broken. He asked a few more questions along the lines of whether it could be mended (nope, sorry), whether dad could grow the baby instead (er, nope...) and did I think he could have the new iCarly DVD (not right now) and then seemed to accept my explanation.
So, cue: made up conversation around a friend and her fictional Fostering arrangement... DH and I started talking about *Carol at work who was having a little girl come and live with their family. As expected, DS' ears pricked up - mum, why does that little girl need to live with your friend? Where are her mum and dad? Jackpot! I thought, so I went on to explain that sometimes childen aren't able to live with their own families. Why mum? Well, for lots of reasons - sometimes their parents are having lots of problems that they need to work out, sometimes they're poorly and sometimes they just need a rest. Hmmmm...I could see his cogs turning.... And do they always live with the new family? No, sometimes they go home, I said. Ok. At this point his attention switched back to the Disney Channel... So, DS, I said, do you think you might quite like a child to come here and live with us? My friend's daughter is really excited - do you think you would find it exciting?
To his credit, he thought for a moment before replying...
No mum. You see I'm thinking about Christmas. I like presents and sweets so I don't think it would be a good idea to have another child come and live here.
Right.
Ok.
After DH and I had stopped laughing (behind our hands natch), we sat back to consider his response. Admittedly, it was the opposite of what we thought he would say. So, back to the drawing board? Not quite we don't think. Perhaps we need to continue the 'drip drip' of ideas and see where it all takes us. We did, afterall, say that we wanted DS to be very much a part of any decision and in his usual style, he is certainly making his feelings known!
Thursday 1 November 2012
Friday 12 October 2012
And THIS is why you wait...
... For anybody chancing upon my blog after having wearily accepted that they would now like to look at Adoption as an option for building their family and feeling angry about the enormous wait to apply imposed by Social Services (currently a year from the last IVF attempt), please read on...
Here are my observations of how you are probably feeling:
1. You feel exhausted by the processes of finding out that having a baby will not come easily for you and devastated that either IVF has not worked for you or is not an option
2. You continue to die a little bit inside when anyone you know becomes pregnant
3. You feel angry and cheated one day, calm the next, depressed for the few after that
4. You are beyond desperate to hold a baby in your arms
5. You are convinced that said baby would solve everything and that your life cannot move forwards
And the reality is:
One year on, I finally understand why that wait is very very necessary. Deciding to adopt a child is a huge decision and though I knew this before and it was never a decision I would have taken lightly, I didn't know myself at that time and certainly wasn't capable of deciding whether it was what I needed or what our family needed. A child needing to be adopted deserves the World; deserves to be placed with a happy family that are ready to embrace him/her into their lives. And that was not me.
Take that year to adjust and to allow what you feel to be realised...
July and August have been hard. My (much longed for) baby would have arrived had I not had another Miscarriage last October and it was tough. The miracle conception that never was. Another little soul not destined to be mine. And that, coupled with me having to stop HRT (my Migraines increased tenfold) made for a pretty disastrous Summer. I felt like I had regressed; babies being wheeled around the street, toddlers holding sticky fingers up to be cleaned, the sound of children laughing - all would set me off crying. It took a while for me to connect the dots (sometimes, I'm just not that quick...) as I didnt want to believe I wasn't 'over it' but once I'd accepted that I probably never would be and that's fine, I felt better. A trip to see a Menopause Consultant and a different HRT prescription have also helped me feel better. And even though the only thing currently benefiting from the Oestrogen is my mattress since that's where these ridiculous patches always end up, the 'tough' has once again passed.
And another door has opened. DH and I decided that we would wait for DS to be old enough to participate in the process of Adoption - that way, we feel, it would be more of a decision that the entire family has made. Thanks to some lovely ladies who have posted to my blog reassuring me that my PND shouldn't have too much of an effect on our application, I feel more confident about it all. And in the meantime, we're now looking into Fostering. We've got the books, we've been online and the next step is the open evening. I'm also fortunate in that I know people who are Foster carers and given my Profession, I work with disadvantaged families with complex lives every day, I feel I have a good grounding into the needs of children who have had to be removed from their own chaotic and sometimes distressing lives. My experiences will help me to understand the processes more and to understand the families of these children that I will need to work closely with. My biggest anxieties were firstly, that I'm not 'special' enough to be a Foster mum and secondly, that I would find it difficult to cope with the distress of the children in my care when things weren't going to plan with their birth families. On the first point, it took me a while to feel convinced that you don't need to be 'special', you actually just need to be 'normal' and 'good enough' and as for the second point...I'm still working on that.
Strangely, preparing a child for adoption doesn't worry me as much - letting go of a child that you have loved for a while will always be hard but I feel I could cope with this, knowing that their lives are moving forwards.
So, big decisions ahead.
I made another big decision recently too - I have cut my hours at work by two days a week. And despite being worried about the money aspect such a change will bring, I am beyond excited that I will be home more for DS and will no longer feel as though I'm 'missing out' on him. I can't wait.
Crikey...Whoever said life was dull had to be joking...
Here are my observations of how you are probably feeling:
1. You feel exhausted by the processes of finding out that having a baby will not come easily for you and devastated that either IVF has not worked for you or is not an option
2. You continue to die a little bit inside when anyone you know becomes pregnant
3. You feel angry and cheated one day, calm the next, depressed for the few after that
4. You are beyond desperate to hold a baby in your arms
5. You are convinced that said baby would solve everything and that your life cannot move forwards
And the reality is:
Now is not the time to decide to adopt a child.
You will never get over not being able to have your own baby but it will get easier to live with.
Your relationship is about to be tested enormously; you think it has been difficult up until now but suddenly when there had once been hope there is now....Nothing...
One year on, I finally understand why that wait is very very necessary. Deciding to adopt a child is a huge decision and though I knew this before and it was never a decision I would have taken lightly, I didn't know myself at that time and certainly wasn't capable of deciding whether it was what I needed or what our family needed. A child needing to be adopted deserves the World; deserves to be placed with a happy family that are ready to embrace him/her into their lives. And that was not me.
Take that year to adjust and to allow what you feel to be realised...
July and August have been hard. My (much longed for) baby would have arrived had I not had another Miscarriage last October and it was tough. The miracle conception that never was. Another little soul not destined to be mine. And that, coupled with me having to stop HRT (my Migraines increased tenfold) made for a pretty disastrous Summer. I felt like I had regressed; babies being wheeled around the street, toddlers holding sticky fingers up to be cleaned, the sound of children laughing - all would set me off crying. It took a while for me to connect the dots (sometimes, I'm just not that quick...) as I didnt want to believe I wasn't 'over it' but once I'd accepted that I probably never would be and that's fine, I felt better. A trip to see a Menopause Consultant and a different HRT prescription have also helped me feel better. And even though the only thing currently benefiting from the Oestrogen is my mattress since that's where these ridiculous patches always end up, the 'tough' has once again passed.
And another door has opened. DH and I decided that we would wait for DS to be old enough to participate in the process of Adoption - that way, we feel, it would be more of a decision that the entire family has made. Thanks to some lovely ladies who have posted to my blog reassuring me that my PND shouldn't have too much of an effect on our application, I feel more confident about it all. And in the meantime, we're now looking into Fostering. We've got the books, we've been online and the next step is the open evening. I'm also fortunate in that I know people who are Foster carers and given my Profession, I work with disadvantaged families with complex lives every day, I feel I have a good grounding into the needs of children who have had to be removed from their own chaotic and sometimes distressing lives. My experiences will help me to understand the processes more and to understand the families of these children that I will need to work closely with. My biggest anxieties were firstly, that I'm not 'special' enough to be a Foster mum and secondly, that I would find it difficult to cope with the distress of the children in my care when things weren't going to plan with their birth families. On the first point, it took me a while to feel convinced that you don't need to be 'special', you actually just need to be 'normal' and 'good enough' and as for the second point...I'm still working on that.
Strangely, preparing a child for adoption doesn't worry me as much - letting go of a child that you have loved for a while will always be hard but I feel I could cope with this, knowing that their lives are moving forwards.
So, big decisions ahead.
I made another big decision recently too - I have cut my hours at work by two days a week. And despite being worried about the money aspect such a change will bring, I am beyond excited that I will be home more for DS and will no longer feel as though I'm 'missing out' on him. I can't wait.
Crikey...Whoever said life was dull had to be joking...
Thursday 31 May 2012
Just pensive...
...It's been a while I know
Have had so much to think about; DS turned 6 which for the first year I can remember I felt ecstatic about rather than panicked that my baby was growing up too fast. Of course he is growing up too fast and getting cleverer by the day and one day he will, quite surprisingly Im sure, be about 28 and I'll still be singing 'yummy yummy yummy I got love in my tummy' at him as he rolls his eyes and examines me suspiciously for further signs that I've been on the sherry...
But a strange, bizarre feeling has come over me in the last month. It is one of peace and I just know that everything will be ok. I have to say, I never thought that I would feel this way until a baby was plopped into my arms. But I do. I really really am happy with my fantastic family and I feel calm.
DH and I were given a huge reality check with the literature we bought regarding adoption; it was hugely motivating to read about adoption stories but also incredibly daunting to learn more about the process. The bare bones of it all. I think we knew that we would be placed under enormous scrutiny (I am not unaware of social services from a professional point of view) but I don't think it occured to us for one single minute that my postnatal depression could impact on their decision to place a child with us...
DS was such a long waited for child, after my pregnancy losses it was surreal that I was even carrying a term baby, that my anxiety levels were massively high before the horrendous delivery, his admission to special care at day 2 where they queried meningitis and burned his foot with a calcium infusion followed by my breastfeeding woes that I finally lost the plot entirely...Convinced that the best plan was for me to move out and after being terrified for weeks that not only was I a useless mother (how could I ever be good enough for this miracle baby??) but that I would harm my baby, I finally confided in my GP who was fantastic - I was referred for CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) and never looked back. I now consider myself a normal mum in that I feel permanently guilty for every decision I make :o)
I 100% agree that social services need to ensure that they are placing children with the right families and that those families can support them and their needs but it was still a bit of a blow. I immediately froze at the idea of continuing down the adoption path - it was too much that I had 'failed' biologically at providing another child for my family, I absolutely could not consider failing again because of my mental health history.
So there I sat for a while. Pondering. Wondering. Procrastinating. Until it occured to me that actually, we said the Autumn and it's not even Summer. We have a holiday planned for August that we're all really excited about and plenty of time to decide our way forward. We've also veered off from the notion that we would be adding to our family - providing a sibling for DS - and are now thinking much more in terms of being able to give a fantastic life to a child that may not ordinarily have been given the opportunity.
And that's a really big deal...
Have had so much to think about; DS turned 6 which for the first year I can remember I felt ecstatic about rather than panicked that my baby was growing up too fast. Of course he is growing up too fast and getting cleverer by the day and one day he will, quite surprisingly Im sure, be about 28 and I'll still be singing 'yummy yummy yummy I got love in my tummy' at him as he rolls his eyes and examines me suspiciously for further signs that I've been on the sherry...
But a strange, bizarre feeling has come over me in the last month. It is one of peace and I just know that everything will be ok. I have to say, I never thought that I would feel this way until a baby was plopped into my arms. But I do. I really really am happy with my fantastic family and I feel calm.
DH and I were given a huge reality check with the literature we bought regarding adoption; it was hugely motivating to read about adoption stories but also incredibly daunting to learn more about the process. The bare bones of it all. I think we knew that we would be placed under enormous scrutiny (I am not unaware of social services from a professional point of view) but I don't think it occured to us for one single minute that my postnatal depression could impact on their decision to place a child with us...
DS was such a long waited for child, after my pregnancy losses it was surreal that I was even carrying a term baby, that my anxiety levels were massively high before the horrendous delivery, his admission to special care at day 2 where they queried meningitis and burned his foot with a calcium infusion followed by my breastfeeding woes that I finally lost the plot entirely...Convinced that the best plan was for me to move out and after being terrified for weeks that not only was I a useless mother (how could I ever be good enough for this miracle baby??) but that I would harm my baby, I finally confided in my GP who was fantastic - I was referred for CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) and never looked back. I now consider myself a normal mum in that I feel permanently guilty for every decision I make :o)
I 100% agree that social services need to ensure that they are placing children with the right families and that those families can support them and their needs but it was still a bit of a blow. I immediately froze at the idea of continuing down the adoption path - it was too much that I had 'failed' biologically at providing another child for my family, I absolutely could not consider failing again because of my mental health history.
So there I sat for a while. Pondering. Wondering. Procrastinating. Until it occured to me that actually, we said the Autumn and it's not even Summer. We have a holiday planned for August that we're all really excited about and plenty of time to decide our way forward. We've also veered off from the notion that we would be adding to our family - providing a sibling for DS - and are now thinking much more in terms of being able to give a fantastic life to a child that may not ordinarily have been given the opportunity.
And that's a really big deal...
Thursday 5 April 2012
A time for eggs...Easter eggs!
I suppose I should feel maudlin or jealous or something at this time of year - a celebration of all things egg - but actually I'm feeling pretty good again... Obviously, this feeling of excited anticipation has nothing to do with the ENORMOUS chocolate egg I imagine DH has secreted somewhere for me...
As well as fantasising about chocolate, I've been doing more research into adoption. To keep busy? To know more? To feel more in control? Probably all of the above... But I have been feeling more and more as though this could be the right thing for us to do.
DH and I have talked a lot about everything as you can imagine and after a weekend away to see friends with DS, our relationship seems to be improving (phew) and we seem to be connecting again. We've both agreed that allowing the other to grieve in their own way has been difficult - we've been conscious that the other person has felt sad/guilty/angry/complacent at times and it's been difficult to feel as though we're on the same page.
We were talking about pregnancy. My pregnancy with DS was problem free (aside from the sickness - euw, that was baaaad) and I love love loved being pregnant - I was not remotely irritated when he kicked me to death in the night and often laid smiling hugging my belly. I was so desperate to be pregnant for longer than a few weeks that as the weeks ticked by, it became more and more real and more and more fabulous. Now, I'm not so sure that I can go down that path again. DH got very emotional when we were talking about the DE option - he referred to 'the call from the bathroom' that has been the end result of 5 of my six pregnancies - the call that said I was bleeding. Again. He tells me that 'the call' was the worst thing he experienced; the tone of my voice, the dreaded slow-footed ascent of the stairs knowing he was going to see me keeled over my knees on the loo. And though we would be using someone else's eggs (so would hopefully have a better chance of not experiencing 'the call'), we're unsure whether we can risk another Miscarriage emotionally and also it would be an extremely expensive Miscarriage...
We also remain unconvinced that a child through adoption would feel any less 'mine/ours' than a child conceived with a DE and grown by me. Genetically, any future children won't be 'mine' but could potentially be genetically DH's. He tells me he has no interest in whether his sperm makes our next child or not. And I believe him. I think what we both want is to extend our family and as DH pointed out, he thinks we could give a lovely home to a child somewhere that needs it. And I agree with him. I have anxiety about all of this obviously. I worry about the impact another child will have on our family but I imagine, like all children plopped out naturally into families all over the World, you muddle through and cope.
I think I've said before, we have a lot of love in our house...
So, for my next trick, I will be reviewing the adoption books we've bought and are currently winging their way from the Amazon warehouse. Watch this space...
Ooooo I can hear that clock ticking - the countdown to Easter Sunday where I intend to be surrounded by family, eating roast lamb and nicking DS's chocolate when he's not looking... Oh and just so you know, I am aware that there's slightly more to Easter than eating chocolate eggs (honest)...
As well as fantasising about chocolate, I've been doing more research into adoption. To keep busy? To know more? To feel more in control? Probably all of the above... But I have been feeling more and more as though this could be the right thing for us to do.
DH and I have talked a lot about everything as you can imagine and after a weekend away to see friends with DS, our relationship seems to be improving (phew) and we seem to be connecting again. We've both agreed that allowing the other to grieve in their own way has been difficult - we've been conscious that the other person has felt sad/guilty/angry/complacent at times and it's been difficult to feel as though we're on the same page.
We were talking about pregnancy. My pregnancy with DS was problem free (aside from the sickness - euw, that was baaaad) and I love love loved being pregnant - I was not remotely irritated when he kicked me to death in the night and often laid smiling hugging my belly. I was so desperate to be pregnant for longer than a few weeks that as the weeks ticked by, it became more and more real and more and more fabulous. Now, I'm not so sure that I can go down that path again. DH got very emotional when we were talking about the DE option - he referred to 'the call from the bathroom' that has been the end result of 5 of my six pregnancies - the call that said I was bleeding. Again. He tells me that 'the call' was the worst thing he experienced; the tone of my voice, the dreaded slow-footed ascent of the stairs knowing he was going to see me keeled over my knees on the loo. And though we would be using someone else's eggs (so would hopefully have a better chance of not experiencing 'the call'), we're unsure whether we can risk another Miscarriage emotionally and also it would be an extremely expensive Miscarriage...
We also remain unconvinced that a child through adoption would feel any less 'mine/ours' than a child conceived with a DE and grown by me. Genetically, any future children won't be 'mine' but could potentially be genetically DH's. He tells me he has no interest in whether his sperm makes our next child or not. And I believe him. I think what we both want is to extend our family and as DH pointed out, he thinks we could give a lovely home to a child somewhere that needs it. And I agree with him. I have anxiety about all of this obviously. I worry about the impact another child will have on our family but I imagine, like all children plopped out naturally into families all over the World, you muddle through and cope.
I think I've said before, we have a lot of love in our house...
So, for my next trick, I will be reviewing the adoption books we've bought and are currently winging their way from the Amazon warehouse. Watch this space...
Ooooo I can hear that clock ticking - the countdown to Easter Sunday where I intend to be surrounded by family, eating roast lamb and nicking DS's chocolate when he's not looking... Oh and just so you know, I am aware that there's slightly more to Easter than eating chocolate eggs (honest)...
Monday 26 March 2012
What goes up...
...Must come down
I suppose I was doing a little bit too well. I'm having what could be classed as 'a shit time' (I believe that this is an actual medical term) at the moment and am struggling a bit to get back to a place where I feel ok about everything.
I'm wondering whether it's all fairly normal that DH and I are finding it tough to 'connect'. We've had such a weird relationship over the last four years that maybe now we're on a bit of a come-down - it's all been go go go and while once we were having lots (and lots) of sex at the perfect time and hoping for the next period not to arrive (please please please...Ah drat!), this then morphed into waiting to hear 'the next result' or have 'the next appointment' and now... Well, now it's all just stopped. We've had every result, we've been to every appointment. Now we wait. And think. And wait a bit more.
I think that my diet today (which has roughly consisted of: toast x 3 slices, chocolate bars x4, biscuits x2, McDonalds cheeseburger x1.5, tuna filled pitta x1, banana x1, crisps x1) is testament to my low mood. I do this every time; if I eat lots and get to feel physically bad then I've somewhere to 'put' the emotionally bad. Or something like that. I'm sure it's all textbook but it is truly pants.
I'm going to attempt to get back on track tomorrow and ignore the fact that I'm feeling invisible and unnattractive and not remotely sexy. I will make a massive effort to ignore my painfully low self-esteem (spotty, fat, not a real woman etc etc) and I will stop ignoring/avoiding my friends for fear that they may discover that I'm not as strong as I'm making out.
:o)
I suppose I was doing a little bit too well. I'm having what could be classed as 'a shit time' (I believe that this is an actual medical term) at the moment and am struggling a bit to get back to a place where I feel ok about everything.
I'm wondering whether it's all fairly normal that DH and I are finding it tough to 'connect'. We've had such a weird relationship over the last four years that maybe now we're on a bit of a come-down - it's all been go go go and while once we were having lots (and lots) of sex at the perfect time and hoping for the next period not to arrive (please please please...Ah drat!), this then morphed into waiting to hear 'the next result' or have 'the next appointment' and now... Well, now it's all just stopped. We've had every result, we've been to every appointment. Now we wait. And think. And wait a bit more.
I think that my diet today (which has roughly consisted of: toast x 3 slices, chocolate bars x4, biscuits x2, McDonalds cheeseburger x1.5, tuna filled pitta x1, banana x1, crisps x1) is testament to my low mood. I do this every time; if I eat lots and get to feel physically bad then I've somewhere to 'put' the emotionally bad. Or something like that. I'm sure it's all textbook but it is truly pants.
I'm going to attempt to get back on track tomorrow and ignore the fact that I'm feeling invisible and unnattractive and not remotely sexy. I will make a massive effort to ignore my painfully low self-esteem (spotty, fat, not a real woman etc etc) and I will stop ignoring/avoiding my friends for fear that they may discover that I'm not as strong as I'm making out.
:o)
Wednesday 21 March 2012
A whole room full a' normal...
So there we were, nervously inching our way into the auditorium and looking for seats (near the front. Oo not that near!), feeling as though everyone was sizing us up when all of a sudden it occured to me...
These people are just like us! And there's loads of them! And they are here in this room!
Wow!
The Adoption Open Evening was last night. A very good friend of mine took charge of DS (I understand she fed him (good), played with him on the laptop (very good) and allowed him to jump up and down on her bed (oof! He won't wanna leave!)) while DH and I made our way to discover what our local Council has to offer in terms of Adoption services. It would appear quite a lot.
We were feeling apprehensive but (dare I say it?) excited too about the meeting as DH and I have made no secret of the fact that adoption does sit slightly better with us than using DE's to try and get me pregnant (and to term) so we felt a lot was riding on it. I think I can happily speak for both of us when I say that we were initially relieved that it didn't feel remotely like a 'sales pitch' and that by the end of the meeting, we felt that this could be, might be, you just never know, an ok option for us. Eek!
I was sat marvelling (as well as listening avidly to the speaker obviously) at the fact that every person in that room was just like DH and I; all wondering whether we could offer a home to a child that is already in this World. I'm not saying that they were all infertile (who knows?), but some had clearly been through unsuccessful IVF attempts and some were childless so there's an assumption that we have all felt the pain, in our very individual ways, of being unable to have a baby/more babies of our own. Without meaning to sound weird, it just felt really good being around them all; Not having to pretend to be or feel something that I didn't feel or want to be. I think I could've stood on my chair and told them all about me with the certainty that they would listen and geddit and then tell me all about them... I didn't stand on my chair and say anything you'll be relieved to hear (Hey - I might want them to give me a child at some point...) but it felt warm and comfortable and normal. I wonder if they'd find me strange if I rocked up for every meeting? :o)
Listening to other women talk about their IVF attempts also made me realise how far I have come in terms of my feelings towards my own infertility - that crashing grief only comes every now and again now instead of every day and though we may not be ready to move forward with anything right at this very minute, I now know without a shadow of a doubt that it will be fine. We will be fine. Actually, we will be fantastic! 'It may not be the path I would have chosen but it is the path I have' has kind of become my mantra.
They, quite rightly, have rules about applying to adopt in terms of infertility treatments - you have to wait a year until after your last attempt. We sit in a bit of a grey area here; we never had an attempt at IVF. After the Miscarriage last Autumn, we were resigned to the fact that it was probably not going to work for us and then my bloods, of course, ruled it out entirely. But we are now choosing our route in terms of DE's or Adoption or doing nothing so I'm not sure where we stand. We're going to take the next couple of months to think it through before we decide whether to 'register our interest' - the first step!
After you've registered, you receive a home visit from a social worker who decides whether you're ready to fill in an application. After that it's all systems go - they have to finish your assessment within eight months and then present their report to a panel who decide whether to approve you or not. Running alongside this is preparation days (3 of), CRB checks and the finding of 3 suitable references (hmmm...which of our friends like me the most??) so I imagine it to be a pretty intense time. Once approved at panel, you can be 'matched' with a child/children and this can take anywhere from 3 days up to 3 months or longer.
Phew. (See - I was listening while marvelling. I can multi-task...)
But until then, we'll carry on carrying on. I've started on my HRT (is 4 days not long enough to be feeling the benefits I ask myself - I'm a tad disappointed that I'm not entirely filled with vigour, energy and an insatiable sex drive (sorry, DH)) and I'm also necking 800mg calcium a day. Luckily, my GP was just as disturbed as I was by the 5% bone loss and has agreed to monitor the situation so I feel relieved there. My only annoyance/minor irritation is that I have to pay for my HRT. Tsk! Apparently since it's not a contraception or for the treatment of a life threatening illness (maybe not physically, I suppose...), I have to cough up. So, that's me for the next 14 years or so....
I'm hearing more and more positives about adoption the more we look into it but I think it's just nice to feel ok about having time to think everything through. I'm such an impatient person by nature that 'chillaxing' doesn't really hit my radar so this is good for me. Being forced to slooooow down, stop panicking and just 'be' is working really well.
As is drinking Gin with my friends...Oo Friday! Let's look forward to Friday...
These people are just like us! And there's loads of them! And they are here in this room!
Wow!
The Adoption Open Evening was last night. A very good friend of mine took charge of DS (I understand she fed him (good), played with him on the laptop (very good) and allowed him to jump up and down on her bed (oof! He won't wanna leave!)) while DH and I made our way to discover what our local Council has to offer in terms of Adoption services. It would appear quite a lot.
We were feeling apprehensive but (dare I say it?) excited too about the meeting as DH and I have made no secret of the fact that adoption does sit slightly better with us than using DE's to try and get me pregnant (and to term) so we felt a lot was riding on it. I think I can happily speak for both of us when I say that we were initially relieved that it didn't feel remotely like a 'sales pitch' and that by the end of the meeting, we felt that this could be, might be, you just never know, an ok option for us. Eek!
I was sat marvelling (as well as listening avidly to the speaker obviously) at the fact that every person in that room was just like DH and I; all wondering whether we could offer a home to a child that is already in this World. I'm not saying that they were all infertile (who knows?), but some had clearly been through unsuccessful IVF attempts and some were childless so there's an assumption that we have all felt the pain, in our very individual ways, of being unable to have a baby/more babies of our own. Without meaning to sound weird, it just felt really good being around them all; Not having to pretend to be or feel something that I didn't feel or want to be. I think I could've stood on my chair and told them all about me with the certainty that they would listen and geddit and then tell me all about them... I didn't stand on my chair and say anything you'll be relieved to hear (Hey - I might want them to give me a child at some point...) but it felt warm and comfortable and normal. I wonder if they'd find me strange if I rocked up for every meeting? :o)
Listening to other women talk about their IVF attempts also made me realise how far I have come in terms of my feelings towards my own infertility - that crashing grief only comes every now and again now instead of every day and though we may not be ready to move forward with anything right at this very minute, I now know without a shadow of a doubt that it will be fine. We will be fine. Actually, we will be fantastic! 'It may not be the path I would have chosen but it is the path I have' has kind of become my mantra.
They, quite rightly, have rules about applying to adopt in terms of infertility treatments - you have to wait a year until after your last attempt. We sit in a bit of a grey area here; we never had an attempt at IVF. After the Miscarriage last Autumn, we were resigned to the fact that it was probably not going to work for us and then my bloods, of course, ruled it out entirely. But we are now choosing our route in terms of DE's or Adoption or doing nothing so I'm not sure where we stand. We're going to take the next couple of months to think it through before we decide whether to 'register our interest' - the first step!
After you've registered, you receive a home visit from a social worker who decides whether you're ready to fill in an application. After that it's all systems go - they have to finish your assessment within eight months and then present their report to a panel who decide whether to approve you or not. Running alongside this is preparation days (3 of), CRB checks and the finding of 3 suitable references (hmmm...which of our friends like me the most??) so I imagine it to be a pretty intense time. Once approved at panel, you can be 'matched' with a child/children and this can take anywhere from 3 days up to 3 months or longer.
Phew. (See - I was listening while marvelling. I can multi-task...)
But until then, we'll carry on carrying on. I've started on my HRT (is 4 days not long enough to be feeling the benefits I ask myself - I'm a tad disappointed that I'm not entirely filled with vigour, energy and an insatiable sex drive (sorry, DH)) and I'm also necking 800mg calcium a day. Luckily, my GP was just as disturbed as I was by the 5% bone loss and has agreed to monitor the situation so I feel relieved there. My only annoyance/minor irritation is that I have to pay for my HRT. Tsk! Apparently since it's not a contraception or for the treatment of a life threatening illness (maybe not physically, I suppose...), I have to cough up. So, that's me for the next 14 years or so....
I'm hearing more and more positives about adoption the more we look into it but I think it's just nice to feel ok about having time to think everything through. I'm such an impatient person by nature that 'chillaxing' doesn't really hit my radar so this is good for me. Being forced to slooooow down, stop panicking and just 'be' is working really well.
As is drinking Gin with my friends...Oo Friday! Let's look forward to Friday...
Monday 12 March 2012
Sunny side up...
So... We've been to see our Consultant. We pay to see him privately for two reasons: 1. When we went down the NHS route we saw three different doctors (of varying status'), all of whom gave us entirely different information - one 'Research Fellow' recommended the removal of my fallopian tubes based entirely upon the fact that I've had two treated ectopics. No laparoscopy or other diagnostic examination was required for her to recommend a surgical procedure that would leave me entirely infertile - I would like to suggest to her that she do a tad more 'research'... and 2. Though not entirely easy to see quickly (he's very popular and even privately there's a 6 wk waiting list), he was the first doctor we immediately trusted implicitly who was 100% honest with us. Ultimately, it doesn't cost much more if everything is straight forward and you have the benefit of seeing the same person each time. Choose a Consultant wisely - we saw three before we hit on 'the one'...
I would like to mention that if we had seen this Consultant originally - at first diagnosis - we would have stood a much greater chance of success at IVF with my eggs; the Consultant at the time told us to 'go on holiday' and encouraged us not to bother. By the time we got to 'the one' a year later, my ovaries and hormone levels were so severely depleted, there was no chance of a successful IVF - but I'm not bitter :o)
Our choices, then, remain the same: an attempt at IVF with DE's either here or abroad or adoption. We were slightly miffed to discover that in the UK there is no such thing as a 'waiting list' really, you have to 'recruit one to get one'. In the UK, there is no anonymity anymore and this has prevented more women coming forward to donate their eggs so you need to advertise in the press or ask around friends and family (I have never desired a sister more than I do right now...) for someone under 35 with a normal BMI, no family history of severe/genetic illness to donate eggs into the system. They don't necessarily need to be given to you - once you have someone donate in your name, you get some eggs out. Simples.
If you go abroad - my clinic has sister clinics in Northern Cyprus and Washington, USA - there is an abundance of DE's available (you even get a glossy brochure from the Washington clinic detailing everything you would want to know about the donor, including the age her own children reached their 'milestones'....Only in America!). Donor's get paid for their trouble and it is entirely anonymous. You are usually guaranteed a certain number of eggs and the prices don't include travel or accommodation. So yes, the cost...I wish I could say that it's not about the money. It's not, obviously. About the money. But it kind of is when you consider the cost:
UK - circa 7.5K
N Cyprus - circa 1.5K for the UK side of things and 7,000 euros for the N Cyprus side
Washington - circa 1.5K for the UK side of things and $17,000 (!!!!!) for the USA side
Wow.
But at least it's all feeling a bit more 'normal'. I've had some lovely supportive comments on my Blog and would love to hear from more of you. The whole DE situation doesn't terrify me nearly as much as it did and I feel much more open to it.
We also discussed my HRT. He was fairly nonchalant about the whole POF thing - reassured me that by going into menopause early, I don't have an increased risk of uterine/ovarian Cancer (phew) and recommended I start immediately on Cycloprogynova at the 2mg dose. I've been a bit bothered about all of this increased Osteoporosis risk too so I asked him about it and was very reassured to learn that I will have only lost 'about 5%' of bone in the last year! 5%!!! Is he kidding??? That must surely equate to most of my left foot! I was pretty mortified and yet he didn't bat an eyelid. Note to self: Google normal bone loss. And check that my shoes haven't suddenly become too big for my left foot.
So off to the GP I go...Where I shall of course be insisting on a bone density scan...
I am also ecstatic to report that my healthy eating plan has lost me 8lb so far and I have gone back to my Zumba classes - my mood has improved by a gazillion!!!
Onwards and Upwards - the adoption open evening is next week...
I would like to mention that if we had seen this Consultant originally - at first diagnosis - we would have stood a much greater chance of success at IVF with my eggs; the Consultant at the time told us to 'go on holiday' and encouraged us not to bother. By the time we got to 'the one' a year later, my ovaries and hormone levels were so severely depleted, there was no chance of a successful IVF - but I'm not bitter :o)
Our choices, then, remain the same: an attempt at IVF with DE's either here or abroad or adoption. We were slightly miffed to discover that in the UK there is no such thing as a 'waiting list' really, you have to 'recruit one to get one'. In the UK, there is no anonymity anymore and this has prevented more women coming forward to donate their eggs so you need to advertise in the press or ask around friends and family (I have never desired a sister more than I do right now...) for someone under 35 with a normal BMI, no family history of severe/genetic illness to donate eggs into the system. They don't necessarily need to be given to you - once you have someone donate in your name, you get some eggs out. Simples.
If you go abroad - my clinic has sister clinics in Northern Cyprus and Washington, USA - there is an abundance of DE's available (you even get a glossy brochure from the Washington clinic detailing everything you would want to know about the donor, including the age her own children reached their 'milestones'....Only in America!). Donor's get paid for their trouble and it is entirely anonymous. You are usually guaranteed a certain number of eggs and the prices don't include travel or accommodation. So yes, the cost...I wish I could say that it's not about the money. It's not, obviously. About the money. But it kind of is when you consider the cost:
UK - circa 7.5K
N Cyprus - circa 1.5K for the UK side of things and 7,000 euros for the N Cyprus side
Washington - circa 1.5K for the UK side of things and $17,000 (!!!!!) for the USA side
Wow.
But at least it's all feeling a bit more 'normal'. I've had some lovely supportive comments on my Blog and would love to hear from more of you. The whole DE situation doesn't terrify me nearly as much as it did and I feel much more open to it.
We also discussed my HRT. He was fairly nonchalant about the whole POF thing - reassured me that by going into menopause early, I don't have an increased risk of uterine/ovarian Cancer (phew) and recommended I start immediately on Cycloprogynova at the 2mg dose. I've been a bit bothered about all of this increased Osteoporosis risk too so I asked him about it and was very reassured to learn that I will have only lost 'about 5%' of bone in the last year! 5%!!! Is he kidding??? That must surely equate to most of my left foot! I was pretty mortified and yet he didn't bat an eyelid. Note to self: Google normal bone loss. And check that my shoes haven't suddenly become too big for my left foot.
So off to the GP I go...Where I shall of course be insisting on a bone density scan...
I am also ecstatic to report that my healthy eating plan has lost me 8lb so far and I have gone back to my Zumba classes - my mood has improved by a gazillion!!!
Onwards and Upwards - the adoption open evening is next week...
Wednesday 22 February 2012
Eggs schmegs?
Is it just me or is using another human being's eggs to create a baby to grow in your own uterus a fairly big deal?
I'll tell you what I think (I'm good at that): I think that it's a really really big/scary thing to consider. My reasons for this are numerous but they start at, 'my genetic material is precious and I really wanted a baby that shares my characteristics' and end somewhere around, 'what if my child wants to hook up with their 'gene pool' when they reach 18?' with a huge dollop of, 'will I resent the fact that DH is part of our child when I am not?' somewhere in the middle...
I ask because I found myself having a rather bizarre conversation with a colleague at work yesterday. I work as a Health Professional and was busy firing off an email when in wandered *Sally, moaning that the menopause had caused her periods to become so erratic that she had been 'caught short' by the arrival of one again and had had to stuff toilet roll in her knickers. After obligingly passing over some much needed sanitary-wear (haha!), I grumbled that she wanted to try having that to deal with at 36. It was out of my mouth before I'd really thought about it and of course she wanted to chat about it and compare night-sweat-notes. Sally was a little shocked when after she'd exclaimed, 'thank God you'd finished your family though, eh?', I responded that actually I hadn't and another baby or two would have been nice. Instantly though she became animated and immediately offered me her neice's eggs! She was going round for tea after work and, 'OMG, she looks just like you - tall, dark hair, big brown eyes... She's also quite like you in personality too, loud and outgoing. I'll ask her tonight. Oo, and her sister...It'll be fine, I bet she'll give you some eggs...'. I was a little taken-aback to say the least and briefly wondered whether she had mistook the meaning of 'eggs' in this case for the brown variety sold at Sainsburys.
In fairness, it's not a dissimilar attitude to a couple of my close friends - one who donated eggs herself years ago and another who thinks it's 'just a few cells'. I wish I shared their nonchalance....
I'll be honest - I'm no supermodel. My boobs are too big and all areas of my body missed the 'toned and athletic' gene altogether. I have a big mouth - not physically but vocally and my feet are on the wrong side of a size 6. At 5'9", I'm not petite and demure and my overall countenance is more 'assertive and capable with a tendancy towards impatience' than 'sweet, fair-tempered and obliging' but, YES, these characteristics are all mine and I would have given anything to have had a daughter (for arguments sake) who was tall with big feet, big boobs and a big gob. Just like her mother....
There is also the argument, as a couple of friends have pointed out, that any baby grown by me is mine. I can get with that, I think... Genetic material would be provided by another woman somewhere but once mixed up with DH's sperm and wanged into my (very excited, I imagine) uterus, it would then be me who grew his/her eyelashes, heart valves, legs etc etc and my blood would run through their veins. I would deliver them (hopefully with less trauma than the first time around) and breastfeed them (ditto last set of brackets) and they would be mine mine mine... Wouldn't they?
So, what am I waiting for? I suppose, for that nagging feeling that it wouldn't feel quite like that for me to disappear...
On the bright side, DH and I were seen in the recurrent miscarriage clinic this morning where they took bloods for karaotyping and auto-immune disorders. Oh, and my colposcopy has come back negative - yey!...And you never know, Sally could be dragging her poor niece, kicking and screaming with all her follicles simply bursting forth with eggs, to the GP for some ovarian stimulating hormones as we speak...
I'll tell you what I think (I'm good at that): I think that it's a really really big/scary thing to consider. My reasons for this are numerous but they start at, 'my genetic material is precious and I really wanted a baby that shares my characteristics' and end somewhere around, 'what if my child wants to hook up with their 'gene pool' when they reach 18?' with a huge dollop of, 'will I resent the fact that DH is part of our child when I am not?' somewhere in the middle...
I ask because I found myself having a rather bizarre conversation with a colleague at work yesterday. I work as a Health Professional and was busy firing off an email when in wandered *Sally, moaning that the menopause had caused her periods to become so erratic that she had been 'caught short' by the arrival of one again and had had to stuff toilet roll in her knickers. After obligingly passing over some much needed sanitary-wear (haha!), I grumbled that she wanted to try having that to deal with at 36. It was out of my mouth before I'd really thought about it and of course she wanted to chat about it and compare night-sweat-notes. Sally was a little shocked when after she'd exclaimed, 'thank God you'd finished your family though, eh?', I responded that actually I hadn't and another baby or two would have been nice. Instantly though she became animated and immediately offered me her neice's eggs! She was going round for tea after work and, 'OMG, she looks just like you - tall, dark hair, big brown eyes... She's also quite like you in personality too, loud and outgoing. I'll ask her tonight. Oo, and her sister...It'll be fine, I bet she'll give you some eggs...'. I was a little taken-aback to say the least and briefly wondered whether she had mistook the meaning of 'eggs' in this case for the brown variety sold at Sainsburys.
In fairness, it's not a dissimilar attitude to a couple of my close friends - one who donated eggs herself years ago and another who thinks it's 'just a few cells'. I wish I shared their nonchalance....
I'll be honest - I'm no supermodel. My boobs are too big and all areas of my body missed the 'toned and athletic' gene altogether. I have a big mouth - not physically but vocally and my feet are on the wrong side of a size 6. At 5'9", I'm not petite and demure and my overall countenance is more 'assertive and capable with a tendancy towards impatience' than 'sweet, fair-tempered and obliging' but, YES, these characteristics are all mine and I would have given anything to have had a daughter (for arguments sake) who was tall with big feet, big boobs and a big gob. Just like her mother....
There is also the argument, as a couple of friends have pointed out, that any baby grown by me is mine. I can get with that, I think... Genetic material would be provided by another woman somewhere but once mixed up with DH's sperm and wanged into my (very excited, I imagine) uterus, it would then be me who grew his/her eyelashes, heart valves, legs etc etc and my blood would run through their veins. I would deliver them (hopefully with less trauma than the first time around) and breastfeed them (ditto last set of brackets) and they would be mine mine mine... Wouldn't they?
So, what am I waiting for? I suppose, for that nagging feeling that it wouldn't feel quite like that for me to disappear...
On the bright side, DH and I were seen in the recurrent miscarriage clinic this morning where they took bloods for karaotyping and auto-immune disorders. Oh, and my colposcopy has come back negative - yey!...And you never know, Sally could be dragging her poor niece, kicking and screaming with all her follicles simply bursting forth with eggs, to the GP for some ovarian stimulating hormones as we speak...
Sunday 12 February 2012
Advice is like buses...
...I have had a fantastic week. I really took on board my desire to think more positively about everything, have eaten healthily and exercised and I feel calm. Yep, I definately feel calm. It's a good (unfamiliar) feeling...
The last thing I expected to be musing positively upon today is the good advice of others. Generally, over the last few years I have found advice from friends and family falls loosely into one of two categories: insensitive, clumsy and trite or irritatingly-not-quite-ready-to-hear accurate. I am unsure which has grieved me most simply because most forms of advice from friends and loved ones is well meant. Now don't get me wrong; I understand that I have probably been over-emotional and over-sensitive at times and even the most well meaning of advice givers has reduced me to tears or had my blood boiling at some point. Sometimes, I just want to talk. Or moan. Or rant. I don't want to be 'calmed down' or 'placated' because I'm too angry to be anything else!
Sooo.... breathe.... This now brings me to the discussion of some fabulous advice - advice that is probably obvious to some but in any case, advice worth thinking about:
You may not have the life you wanted, but your life will still be wonderful - My very good friend said this to me a few months ago. When she said it, as we were on the school run one morning, I was in a dismal mood, very miserable and tearful. I didn't really consider her words until later, refusing in part I imagine, to think positively about my situation. The intelligence and sensitivity behind her words did eventually become clear though and it is something I now know will definately be the case for my family. No, this isn't what we planned - we have been waiting to meet baby number 2 for so many years now that the hard fact that this won't be the case for us (well, not with my geriatric eggs anyway) is tough to swallow. But we are healthy and happy and there's a lot of love in our house...
Don't dwell on what you don't have, it is how it is so find the positives - Now, on a bad day this particular piece of advice, delivered by another good friend who is a self-proclaimed black or whiter, would have floored me. Last night though, she couldn't have made more sense - it was utterly timely as she remarked that she can see I'm starting to wade through my feelings. I struggle with finding the positives generally - I feel much more comfortable with 'angry' or 'sad' and I have had a lot of practice with both! But now, I can see that the absolutely only way forward - regardless of what decision DH and I come to - is to accept my situation for what it is and believe that it will all work out exactly how it is meant to work out. The anger needs to stop because it leads to feeling hopeless and I am not hope-less...
DS is utterly unique, there will never be another you and DH creation so cherish him - And I do. Every single day. I think I probably drive him a bit mad - the rolling of his eyes as he sees mummy lunging forward for another kiss never fails to amuse me.... Two of my friends have made this observation and they are absolutely right. My aim is not to allow this situation to roll on for another few years - I would hate for DS to grow up and think that he wasn't enough for us or feel cheated that his mum spent most of his childhood grieving for a second child...
And lastly....
Time is a wonderful healer - Nobody gave me this advice, it's my advice to me. A massive cliche'? Yup. But oh so true too....
The last thing I expected to be musing positively upon today is the good advice of others. Generally, over the last few years I have found advice from friends and family falls loosely into one of two categories: insensitive, clumsy and trite or irritatingly-not-quite-ready-to-hear accurate. I am unsure which has grieved me most simply because most forms of advice from friends and loved ones is well meant. Now don't get me wrong; I understand that I have probably been over-emotional and over-sensitive at times and even the most well meaning of advice givers has reduced me to tears or had my blood boiling at some point. Sometimes, I just want to talk. Or moan. Or rant. I don't want to be 'calmed down' or 'placated' because I'm too angry to be anything else!
Sooo.... breathe.... This now brings me to the discussion of some fabulous advice - advice that is probably obvious to some but in any case, advice worth thinking about:
You may not have the life you wanted, but your life will still be wonderful - My very good friend said this to me a few months ago. When she said it, as we were on the school run one morning, I was in a dismal mood, very miserable and tearful. I didn't really consider her words until later, refusing in part I imagine, to think positively about my situation. The intelligence and sensitivity behind her words did eventually become clear though and it is something I now know will definately be the case for my family. No, this isn't what we planned - we have been waiting to meet baby number 2 for so many years now that the hard fact that this won't be the case for us (well, not with my geriatric eggs anyway) is tough to swallow. But we are healthy and happy and there's a lot of love in our house...
Don't dwell on what you don't have, it is how it is so find the positives - Now, on a bad day this particular piece of advice, delivered by another good friend who is a self-proclaimed black or whiter, would have floored me. Last night though, she couldn't have made more sense - it was utterly timely as she remarked that she can see I'm starting to wade through my feelings. I struggle with finding the positives generally - I feel much more comfortable with 'angry' or 'sad' and I have had a lot of practice with both! But now, I can see that the absolutely only way forward - regardless of what decision DH and I come to - is to accept my situation for what it is and believe that it will all work out exactly how it is meant to work out. The anger needs to stop because it leads to feeling hopeless and I am not hope-less...
DS is utterly unique, there will never be another you and DH creation so cherish him - And I do. Every single day. I think I probably drive him a bit mad - the rolling of his eyes as he sees mummy lunging forward for another kiss never fails to amuse me.... Two of my friends have made this observation and they are absolutely right. My aim is not to allow this situation to roll on for another few years - I would hate for DS to grow up and think that he wasn't enough for us or feel cheated that his mum spent most of his childhood grieving for a second child...
And lastly....
Time is a wonderful healer - Nobody gave me this advice, it's my advice to me. A massive cliche'? Yup. But oh so true too....
Sunday 5 February 2012
Snow, hand wringing and Rum....
...Where to begin...?
I have been trying really really hard to keep everything together. I am behaving like a mad-woman at times - think PMT x100 - withdrawn and sad at others and at other times, I have this manic need to be happy and make everyone around me snort with laughter so I can, perhaps by osmosis, catch their cheerfulness. There is no clear pattern to my moods - I feel utterly at the mercy of my hormones as they toss me around. My anxiety as to what kind of mood I might wake up in on any given day and worrying whether I will be knocked out by another Migraine is beginning to take it's toll...
I went on a girly night out last night - DS was sleeping at his aunt and uncle's house and DH was out with the boys... The snow began falling mid afternoon and by the time I waved DS off with my brother, I was in a state of nervous frenzy, certain that the weather would cause a 16 car pile up and take DS away from me.
The anxiety continued with how to and whether to talk about how I was feeling with my friends (bring everyone down why don't you? Tsk!) and was probably further exacerbated by the extra tyre of fat that has appeared at my waistline (thanks, menopause) preventing me from wearing what I was planning to. Panic panic panic.
I have some great friends. Most of them deal with my circumstances/erratic behaviours well, others I worry avoid me/it and this bothers me. To be honest, I find me very confusing at the moment so Im sure they must too. And what do or can they possibly say to me? Nothing will change my situation and there's this massively loud voice in my head berating me for not 'getting on with it' and I do wonder whether this is what they are thinking if I bring it up. So I tend not to lately.
By the time I'd spent most of the last week worrying whether I would be good company or not on a night out that I thought I was looking forward to (and in ordinary circumstances absolutely would have been), coupled with my unsuccesful visit to the GP for drugs, sorry hormones, I was a hand wringing wreck by the time we met up...
I was probably about 3 seconds away from tears for most of the evening so decided to drink copious amounts of Rum and coke - if all else fails, alcohol is worth a try - and have subsequently spent most of today worrying a bit more about whether I behaved like some crazy, self-absorbed, raging, angst-ridden alcoholic...
I am going somewhere with all of this, honestly.
This evening I had a bit of an epiphany: I was finally able to get some clarity. I cannot and will not feel like I did yesterday on a regular basis. I think I perhaps hit a mini 'rock bottom' in terms of my low mood and my family and I deserve better.
I am going to take some control over my situation. That is my public statement!
I realise that there is much about my current situation that is being dictated by nature or time, but there are aspects that I intend to take hold of. As of tomorrow, I intend to eat better (have just spent another hour researching 'menopause' diet on the internet) and will restart my exercise regime - I can only feel sorry for myself and stuff my inactive body with feel-better-chocolate and heal-all-flapjacks and cakes for so long before I need to get a grip. There's also the small matter of me being a Bridesmaid this Summer and I fully intend to look fabulous - not too fabulous - but fabulous enough. I will embrace all things green and leafy as of tomorrow...
So, thank you snow and hand wringing and Rum... You did indeed have a purpose in my life!
For the record, DS had a fabulous evening and is tucked up in bed upstairs, exhausted....
And tomorrow is another day, isn't it?
I have been trying really really hard to keep everything together. I am behaving like a mad-woman at times - think PMT x100 - withdrawn and sad at others and at other times, I have this manic need to be happy and make everyone around me snort with laughter so I can, perhaps by osmosis, catch their cheerfulness. There is no clear pattern to my moods - I feel utterly at the mercy of my hormones as they toss me around. My anxiety as to what kind of mood I might wake up in on any given day and worrying whether I will be knocked out by another Migraine is beginning to take it's toll...
I went on a girly night out last night - DS was sleeping at his aunt and uncle's house and DH was out with the boys... The snow began falling mid afternoon and by the time I waved DS off with my brother, I was in a state of nervous frenzy, certain that the weather would cause a 16 car pile up and take DS away from me.
The anxiety continued with how to and whether to talk about how I was feeling with my friends (bring everyone down why don't you? Tsk!) and was probably further exacerbated by the extra tyre of fat that has appeared at my waistline (thanks, menopause) preventing me from wearing what I was planning to. Panic panic panic.
I have some great friends. Most of them deal with my circumstances/erratic behaviours well, others I worry avoid me/it and this bothers me. To be honest, I find me very confusing at the moment so Im sure they must too. And what do or can they possibly say to me? Nothing will change my situation and there's this massively loud voice in my head berating me for not 'getting on with it' and I do wonder whether this is what they are thinking if I bring it up. So I tend not to lately.
By the time I'd spent most of the last week worrying whether I would be good company or not on a night out that I thought I was looking forward to (and in ordinary circumstances absolutely would have been), coupled with my unsuccesful visit to the GP for drugs, sorry hormones, I was a hand wringing wreck by the time we met up...
I was probably about 3 seconds away from tears for most of the evening so decided to drink copious amounts of Rum and coke - if all else fails, alcohol is worth a try - and have subsequently spent most of today worrying a bit more about whether I behaved like some crazy, self-absorbed, raging, angst-ridden alcoholic...
I am going somewhere with all of this, honestly.
This evening I had a bit of an epiphany: I was finally able to get some clarity. I cannot and will not feel like I did yesterday on a regular basis. I think I perhaps hit a mini 'rock bottom' in terms of my low mood and my family and I deserve better.
I am going to take some control over my situation. That is my public statement!
I realise that there is much about my current situation that is being dictated by nature or time, but there are aspects that I intend to take hold of. As of tomorrow, I intend to eat better (have just spent another hour researching 'menopause' diet on the internet) and will restart my exercise regime - I can only feel sorry for myself and stuff my inactive body with feel-better-chocolate and heal-all-flapjacks and cakes for so long before I need to get a grip. There's also the small matter of me being a Bridesmaid this Summer and I fully intend to look fabulous - not too fabulous - but fabulous enough. I will embrace all things green and leafy as of tomorrow...
So, thank you snow and hand wringing and Rum... You did indeed have a purpose in my life!
For the record, DS had a fabulous evening and is tucked up in bed upstairs, exhausted....
And tomorrow is another day, isn't it?
Friday 3 February 2012
HRT or not HRT
So, I've been extensively researching POF - thought it was about time I gave some consideration to some other parts of my body...
I think that when I was diagnosed and in the months that followed, all I could concentrate on was the infertility aspect. Getting blood results and scan results that were all fairly shitty and then the challenge of finding a Consultant we felt we could trust completely took over. The fact that my body was slowly winding down in terms of Oestrogen production and that this would be having an effect on various organs in my body had not remotely occured to me. Now, however, I'm all over this fact...
First and foremost I have read and read and read. This in itself has proven tricky - not the actual reading, I'm good to go with that - but the quality and relevance of information available on the internet has proven somewhat shaky...
Here, however, is a Godsend, written by someone with POF:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Premature-Menopause-Book-Kath-Petras/dp/0380805413/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1328304186&sr=8-1
I devoured this book from cover to cover and though it is American (so the blood levels discussed and processes of care etc are different), it is thorough, informative and very readable - you need to get it in your life!!
All of the research and Government Guidelines for Menopause relate to women who actually should be in the Menopause and there is very little around the long term side effects of taking HRT for 15 years. This book reassured me that since we are essentially replacing hormones that our body should be producing and that our various bodily systems rely upon these hormones to work effectively, we are in a different situation to women in their late 40's or 50's who use HRT to alleviate those pesky symptoms.
Also, the different types of hormone are discussed - for example, progesterone as opposed to the synthetic progestogen should be given to us with POF because as well as protecting the uterus, it will re-build the bone that we are currently losing - the oestrogen will help nurture that bone. Being at a higher risk of Osteoporosis, we should probably indulge in a bone density scan too so that we can be supplemented correctly with Calcium.
Our increased risk of Heart Disease is also a bit of a bummer and, again, our blood pumping friend is wondering where all the oestrogen is and our cholestorol levels have probably raised through no change whatsoever in diet - all of which needs discussing with a good GP. I would probably give the passages dedicated to 'vaginal atrophy' a swerve (I was horrified!!) for a while, there's only so much we can take in one book, methinks....
Armed with all of this (thoroughly bloody depressing) information, I made the appointment with my GP. You have no idea how relieved I was to learn that the fantastic Dr Wonderful had returned from Maternity Leave (the cheek of her...) and so I sat nervously in the waiting room trying to remember everything I'd read. Dr Wonderful was wonderful (of course) and sat and listened to me babble incoherently through my snot and tears, offered to sign me off work (thank you but no) and said that she would much rather get a Consultant opinion on treatment before prescribing anything. Oh. So, a bit of an anti-climax - best laid plans and all that - but hey ho, our appointment with the Consultant is in four short weeks, which will surely fly by...
DS asked me yesterday whether, if I had another baby, it would look like him. I smiled and very gently explained that he is 100% unique in every way and that there will never ever be another baby as amazing as he is.
That fact, at least, is something that DH and I are utterly sure of...
I think that when I was diagnosed and in the months that followed, all I could concentrate on was the infertility aspect. Getting blood results and scan results that were all fairly shitty and then the challenge of finding a Consultant we felt we could trust completely took over. The fact that my body was slowly winding down in terms of Oestrogen production and that this would be having an effect on various organs in my body had not remotely occured to me. Now, however, I'm all over this fact...
First and foremost I have read and read and read. This in itself has proven tricky - not the actual reading, I'm good to go with that - but the quality and relevance of information available on the internet has proven somewhat shaky...
Here, however, is a Godsend, written by someone with POF:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Premature-Menopause-Book-Kath-Petras/dp/0380805413/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1328304186&sr=8-1
I devoured this book from cover to cover and though it is American (so the blood levels discussed and processes of care etc are different), it is thorough, informative and very readable - you need to get it in your life!!
All of the research and Government Guidelines for Menopause relate to women who actually should be in the Menopause and there is very little around the long term side effects of taking HRT for 15 years. This book reassured me that since we are essentially replacing hormones that our body should be producing and that our various bodily systems rely upon these hormones to work effectively, we are in a different situation to women in their late 40's or 50's who use HRT to alleviate those pesky symptoms.
Also, the different types of hormone are discussed - for example, progesterone as opposed to the synthetic progestogen should be given to us with POF because as well as protecting the uterus, it will re-build the bone that we are currently losing - the oestrogen will help nurture that bone. Being at a higher risk of Osteoporosis, we should probably indulge in a bone density scan too so that we can be supplemented correctly with Calcium.
Our increased risk of Heart Disease is also a bit of a bummer and, again, our blood pumping friend is wondering where all the oestrogen is and our cholestorol levels have probably raised through no change whatsoever in diet - all of which needs discussing with a good GP. I would probably give the passages dedicated to 'vaginal atrophy' a swerve (I was horrified!!) for a while, there's only so much we can take in one book, methinks....
Armed with all of this (thoroughly bloody depressing) information, I made the appointment with my GP. You have no idea how relieved I was to learn that the fantastic Dr Wonderful had returned from Maternity Leave (the cheek of her...) and so I sat nervously in the waiting room trying to remember everything I'd read. Dr Wonderful was wonderful (of course) and sat and listened to me babble incoherently through my snot and tears, offered to sign me off work (thank you but no) and said that she would much rather get a Consultant opinion on treatment before prescribing anything. Oh. So, a bit of an anti-climax - best laid plans and all that - but hey ho, our appointment with the Consultant is in four short weeks, which will surely fly by...
DS asked me yesterday whether, if I had another baby, it would look like him. I smiled and very gently explained that he is 100% unique in every way and that there will never ever be another baby as amazing as he is.
That fact, at least, is something that DH and I are utterly sure of...
Wednesday 25 January 2012
Up and Down and Round and Round...
Some days are ok and some days are completely crap...
I find myself wondering whether I'm really living in some sort of soap opera - that I been given these incredibly difficult, impossible even, decisions to make when it seems like the rest of the World get to decide whether they add to their family or not... Fancy that - a choice! How on Earth do you make such massive decisions? And what if you cock it up and get it wrong?
I realise, when I'm feeling rational, that there are plenty of women who find themselves unable to have children and as I constantly have to remind myself when feeling particularly sad/angry - I have a DS and I am incredibly lucky.
DS has been nagging for a brother or sister (preferably a sister so he can pinch and use everything she owns that's remotely pink and sparkly, I'm sure...) for the last couple of years. It makes me weep (literally sometimes) that I cannot give him this one little thing. I think that the guilt is something that can really get to you. I feel guilty to my DS that I can't provide some company for him and I go through days when I feel like a 'dud', a 'reject' and feel sorry that my DH got stuck with me for a wife. For the record, he would have a massive problem with me saying that - I know that he loves me and is incredibly supportive.
Lately DH and I have been discussing adoption as well as egg donation. I'm not sure that adoption doesn't sit slightly better with me but at this point, I just cannot make a decision and my brain is packed full of all the variables... Do we try a round of egg donation? How will I feel about a child that is genetically not mine but is my husband's? Do we feel we could adopt a child? What if we weren't successful at either? How would our families feel about it all? How would DS feel? And....the big one... What if we do absolutely nothing and move forward with the life we have?
DH and I have a lot to think about and in the meantime, I'll cope as I always do - crying a bit, using humour a bit and thinking a lot. It's probably just as well that the night sweats wake me at around 3.30am every morning - afterall, I have a lot of decisions to make...
While researching donor eggs, I found a really good website that goes through the emotional aspects, find it here - http://www.4therapy.com/life-topics/parenting/pregnancy/infertility-and-emotional-aspects-having-child-through-donor-eggs-23
I have one recommendation at this juncture - hang on to good friends and talk to them lots. Good friends are those that listen and say very little and are just there to support you. Getting your head around things is hard enough without everyone around you having an opinion. There's nothing worse than a friend (who has happily completed her family) telling you how you should feel.
So, onwards and upwards - we have an appointment with our consultant in March to discuss my latest blood results and egg donation and then we also have, in the same month, an open evening on adoption so am going to spend the next few weeks looking forward to getting more information and hopefully, in doing so, getting closer to the outcome that's right for us...
I find myself wondering whether I'm really living in some sort of soap opera - that I been given these incredibly difficult, impossible even, decisions to make when it seems like the rest of the World get to decide whether they add to their family or not... Fancy that - a choice! How on Earth do you make such massive decisions? And what if you cock it up and get it wrong?
I realise, when I'm feeling rational, that there are plenty of women who find themselves unable to have children and as I constantly have to remind myself when feeling particularly sad/angry - I have a DS and I am incredibly lucky.
DS has been nagging for a brother or sister (preferably a sister so he can pinch and use everything she owns that's remotely pink and sparkly, I'm sure...) for the last couple of years. It makes me weep (literally sometimes) that I cannot give him this one little thing. I think that the guilt is something that can really get to you. I feel guilty to my DS that I can't provide some company for him and I go through days when I feel like a 'dud', a 'reject' and feel sorry that my DH got stuck with me for a wife. For the record, he would have a massive problem with me saying that - I know that he loves me and is incredibly supportive.
Lately DH and I have been discussing adoption as well as egg donation. I'm not sure that adoption doesn't sit slightly better with me but at this point, I just cannot make a decision and my brain is packed full of all the variables... Do we try a round of egg donation? How will I feel about a child that is genetically not mine but is my husband's? Do we feel we could adopt a child? What if we weren't successful at either? How would our families feel about it all? How would DS feel? And....the big one... What if we do absolutely nothing and move forward with the life we have?
DH and I have a lot to think about and in the meantime, I'll cope as I always do - crying a bit, using humour a bit and thinking a lot. It's probably just as well that the night sweats wake me at around 3.30am every morning - afterall, I have a lot of decisions to make...
While researching donor eggs, I found a really good website that goes through the emotional aspects, find it here - http://www.4therapy.com/life-topics/parenting/pregnancy/infertility-and-emotional-aspects-having-child-through-donor-eggs-23
I have one recommendation at this juncture - hang on to good friends and talk to them lots. Good friends are those that listen and say very little and are just there to support you. Getting your head around things is hard enough without everyone around you having an opinion. There's nothing worse than a friend (who has happily completed her family) telling you how you should feel.
So, onwards and upwards - we have an appointment with our consultant in March to discuss my latest blood results and egg donation and then we also have, in the same month, an open evening on adoption so am going to spend the next few weeks looking forward to getting more information and hopefully, in doing so, getting closer to the outcome that's right for us...
Thursday 19 January 2012
Eggs well and truly scrambled...
I received the rather damning news that I have 'Premature Ovarian Failure (POF)' last March at age 35:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Premature_ovarian_failure
My ovaries had been quietly failing (oo - that word nips...) for some time it would seem and the fact that I have a child at all is a wonderful miracle - it should never have happened. Apparently. I fully believe it absolutely should!
Stupidly/naively/certainly not timely I had not given too much thought to the night sweats, the hot flushes, the erratic and extremely heavy periods and the permanent PMT; prefering to concentrate on my lack of a pregnancy. I know all about pregnancy. I've been pregnant a few times (6, actually but more about that later...) and my husband and I were so busy either having sex constantly (while secretly growing to despise one another ;o)) or thinking about having sex constantly that it was only dawning on me a good 18 months into 'Project Baby-Number-2', that when once we shared a bar of soap and became pregnant (for those of you wondering, this is not an actual way to become pregnant), suddenly and rather annoyingly I was having periods most months. And negative pregnancy tests.
Yesterday I received the blood test results that change everything. Actually, they change very little but because I had harboured a romantic notion that it would 'all work out for us in the end', I now have to face the stark fact that with an FSH of 31.5 and oestrodial levels of <70, my one-in-a-gazillion chance of obtaining a pregnancy through IVF has vanished - poof - forever. I no longer have that option. In all honesty with an 'undetectable' ovarian reserve and a follicle count of 4 in total, almost a year ago, we were looking at a less than 5% chance anyway but, to us, that was a chance.
I didn't 'leave it too late', I was 27 when we started trying for a family. After two miscarriages and an ectopic, we were blessed with a darling son (DS) in 2006. He is ace and I am extremely lucky to have him. We started trying for baby number 2 (with a view to eventually stopping having babies at around the '4' mark) in the December after DS turned 1 year old. We managed a pregnancy the following March, which sadly turned out to be another ectopic and then nothing. Sex virtually every other day for the next 14 months or so ensued. My GP eventually agreed there could be a problem and sent me for tests. And more tests. And then a few more. None of which gave us very much hope.
Last October, amazingly, I became pregnant. Quite naturally. I would say 'all by myself' meaning without the help of IVF but I believe my husband was there at the time so I can't take all the credit. By November, it was all over. Another miscarriage. I don't think I could ever feel more heartbroken than I did at that time; for me, for DH, for DS and for yet another baby that wasn't to be.
And so here we are.
My advice, by the way, if you are struggling to conceive - see your GP as soon as possible. Especially if your mum had problems conceiving or had an early menopause. Had I pushed it, I may be sitting in a different place today.
My husband and I had discussed donor eggs (DE) briefly but I had refused to give it serious consideration as I was still hankering after that little girl that looks just like me. Now, we've made an appointment to go and see the 'Donor Egg Coordinator' (who'd have thought such a lady existed..??) at our local Centre for Reproductive Health. It seems that we will be giving it some consideration afterall...Watch this space...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Premature_ovarian_failure
My ovaries had been quietly failing (oo - that word nips...) for some time it would seem and the fact that I have a child at all is a wonderful miracle - it should never have happened. Apparently. I fully believe it absolutely should!
Stupidly/naively/certainly not timely I had not given too much thought to the night sweats, the hot flushes, the erratic and extremely heavy periods and the permanent PMT; prefering to concentrate on my lack of a pregnancy. I know all about pregnancy. I've been pregnant a few times (6, actually but more about that later...) and my husband and I were so busy either having sex constantly (while secretly growing to despise one another ;o)) or thinking about having sex constantly that it was only dawning on me a good 18 months into 'Project Baby-Number-2', that when once we shared a bar of soap and became pregnant (for those of you wondering, this is not an actual way to become pregnant), suddenly and rather annoyingly I was having periods most months. And negative pregnancy tests.
Yesterday I received the blood test results that change everything. Actually, they change very little but because I had harboured a romantic notion that it would 'all work out for us in the end', I now have to face the stark fact that with an FSH of 31.5 and oestrodial levels of <70, my one-in-a-gazillion chance of obtaining a pregnancy through IVF has vanished - poof - forever. I no longer have that option. In all honesty with an 'undetectable' ovarian reserve and a follicle count of 4 in total, almost a year ago, we were looking at a less than 5% chance anyway but, to us, that was a chance.
I didn't 'leave it too late', I was 27 when we started trying for a family. After two miscarriages and an ectopic, we were blessed with a darling son (DS) in 2006. He is ace and I am extremely lucky to have him. We started trying for baby number 2 (with a view to eventually stopping having babies at around the '4' mark) in the December after DS turned 1 year old. We managed a pregnancy the following March, which sadly turned out to be another ectopic and then nothing. Sex virtually every other day for the next 14 months or so ensued. My GP eventually agreed there could be a problem and sent me for tests. And more tests. And then a few more. None of which gave us very much hope.
Last October, amazingly, I became pregnant. Quite naturally. I would say 'all by myself' meaning without the help of IVF but I believe my husband was there at the time so I can't take all the credit. By November, it was all over. Another miscarriage. I don't think I could ever feel more heartbroken than I did at that time; for me, for DH, for DS and for yet another baby that wasn't to be.
And so here we are.
My advice, by the way, if you are struggling to conceive - see your GP as soon as possible. Especially if your mum had problems conceiving or had an early menopause. Had I pushed it, I may be sitting in a different place today.
My husband and I had discussed donor eggs (DE) briefly but I had refused to give it serious consideration as I was still hankering after that little girl that looks just like me. Now, we've made an appointment to go and see the 'Donor Egg Coordinator' (who'd have thought such a lady existed..??) at our local Centre for Reproductive Health. It seems that we will be giving it some consideration afterall...Watch this space...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)