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...
Wednesday 22 February 2012
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...
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