First blood test of Second Cycle

Yesterday I had the first blood test of the cycle to see if I had reached the appropriate hormonal base line. Apparently I have. Yay for me. I never enjoy going to the clinic. I’m not suggesting it should actually be enjoyable, but I tend to find it upsetting. Yesterday I really had that sense of being in a production line that I’ve heard other people talk about. No matter how nice the nurses are you’re still being shuffled from room to room, one after the other, politely but efficiently – there are twenty other women waiting after all, and they all have to be seen between 7:00 and 8:15am. I managed to express my concern that I haven’t had a conversation with my doctor since starting the new cycle, and considering the last one was a failure – with unexpectedly bad results – I would like to know what’s going to done differently. What has been learned since last time that will make this $9000 gamble a bit more likely to go my way? What are they doing apart from upping my Puregon dose? The nurse agreed that a conversation needs to be had. I’ll keep you posted.

Change is afoot

Just in case anyone was concerned – yes, I have changed the design of the blog. Maybe it’s the unseasonably warm weather, or maybe it’s an expression of my shifting internal landscape, but I realised I wanted something a bit more open, less brooding. So I hope I didn’t lose anyone in the process, and if you read this blog, I hope you like the new look.

Lucrin injections and Headaches

I think I may have been kidding myself about the caffeine free tea. Going by the headache I’ve had for the last 24 hours – since I stopped drinking it – I am assuming I’m in caffeine withdrawal. I stumbled into a health food shop on the weekend and found some roasted dandelion coffee substitute. It’s flavoured with chicory, which I suppose is cheating a bit, but it’s actually kind of yummy. The best thing about it is the beautiful coffee colour – very convincing. God, listen to me, what a tragic. So the upshot is I am now genuinely off the caffeine. I’m drinking roobios tea – not great, but bearable, and totally non-caffeine.

I’ve been doing more reading about the caffeine factor and it really does seem to be an issue for both parties. Big H has struggled even more than me to give it up – but he’s trying.

I had to start the Lucrin injections without him last week because he’s been away. Turns out it was easier doing it myself anyway, although the moral support is nice. He’s back now and tried to help me this morning but he must not have been very awake because he fumbled the needle, dropped it, and caught it with the back of his hand. Needle straight through the knuckle of his index finger. I could tell it really hurt. I haven’t stuck myself, but I did notice a slightly dazed feeling when I started the Lucrin again. I felt sort of stunned – like I’d walked into a wall or something. I know it’s the Lucrin because it was like that the first time too. I also had real trouble staying awake in the afternoons for the first couple of days. Mood wise, I’m struggling a bit, but that’s more me than the Lucrin I think.

Second Cycle; the stakes are rising

I felt sort of numb after my first cycle was cancelled. And it seemed so long for my period to come – it was about 10 days late in the end. I don’t remember thinking about it all that much. I just got on with things. Now I’m about to start the early morning clinic visits and blood tests again and I’m realising I feel just that little bit more anxious that it works.

There was a story in the paper yesterday about a local news reader who is pregnant after the 11th IVF cycle. 11 Cycles!! I know I don’t have that in me. Let alone the thousands and thousands of dollars to put into it. She’s just passed 12 weeks; so hopefully she gets her baby. I said two cycles, maximum, when we started. Do I count the cancelled one? Does this new one have to be the one? Or maybe the cancelled one was like a trial, and it doesn’t count… I just don’t know how I’m going to feel.

Preparation for IVF – can it ever be good enough?

I told someone I was doing IVF the other day. She said “Oh, so I suppose you’re taking all the herbal supplements and getting treatments and things..” My heart sank a little. No, I’m bloody not. I’m trying to get on with my actual life, and get pregnant too. Having spent months on herbs and being really obsessive, with no discernible results for me or Big H, this time we’ve taken the just-do-our-best approach. There is always going to be something else we could have done. More we could have spent, more organic food we could have eaten, more wheatgrass we could have drunk, more acupuncture we could have had. We could have cleansed, toned and moisturized our reproductives and meditated more often on the souls of unborn children. If it doesn’t work – there will always be the question about why. In the meanwhile I figure the best possible thing I can do is not torture myself. So that’s what I’m trying to do. First blood test in two days time…

Is there such as thing as “psychological infertilty”?

My therapist put something interesting to me the other day which was really hard to hear, but I know it’s true. And that is, I operate on a pretty “masculine” level most of the time. I’m not a gender separatist, but I do believe that it makes sense to basically divide certain characteristics into masculine and feminine. Importantly, I also believe that both men and women carry both kinds of characteristics and ideally should be able to draw on them appropriately depending on what the situation requires.

So, my “masculinity” shows in my extreme need to analyse and make sense of things logically. To organise information systematically. To hold onto my feelings tightly and to remain in control. None of these things are problems in themselves; my therapist’s point was that I’m unbalanced. I don’t allow myself to be chaotic, I punish myself for not achieving, and I don’t nurture myself when I feel bad. Masculine, feminine, whatever; the point is I’m out of touch with myself and it’s stopping me from moving forward in my life. It’s hard to explain, but it was one of those moments where I knew I was touching on something true about myself.

The reason I’m putting it down here is because I am starting to wonder if and where this might fit into my infertility. It’s hard to summarise a life of feelings, but; the simple truth is I have never been very self accepting, certainly never felt good about my body, never really seen myself as a “real” woman; empowered and sexually confident. The more I think about it the more I realise that it many ways, especially regarding my sexuality – my womanliness and all that entails; I’ve felt… incomplete, disconnected…not ready.

Whether this has anything to do with having babies, I can’t really say. The question in the back of my mind is, of course, do I have time to find out?

Caffeine Compromises Fertility

It’s official. Well official enough for me. My dear friend who’s a naturopath rang me the other day with some research she’s been looking into. It seems that caffeine increases dopamine (no surprises there). The problem is in the way the dopamine interacts with estrogen. I can’t remember the explanation exactly but the gist of it was every little jolt of caffeine – that is the amount you get in a standard caffeinated soft drink – temporarily lowers your fertility. It recovers, but if you’re taking in caffeine every day you’re probably operating on a less fertile system than you could be. I seriously doubt if I can get any less fertile, but talking to her strengthened my resolve to get back on the wagon with the coffee. My intake was creeping up again, so now I’m trying to get excited about tea leaves. Low caffeine tea leaves. They’re called “Formosan” in case anyone’s interested. Naturally tannin free and low caffeine.

Contraceptive Blues

I feel like crap by the way. I’m kind of blaming being back on the pill. I don’t know if that’s true. My head hurts and I’d quite like to stay in bed. I keep trying to engage Big H in screwy, emotionally enmeshed conversations about what’s going wrong in our relationship. Nothing is. I just feel like crap and I can’t stand it so I dump it on him. He’s very sympathetic, but there’s a limit to how much misery anyone can take, and I don’t want to wear him out, because for all I know it could be down hill from here!

Which is why I’ve started seeing a therapist. We don’t really talk about IVF that much, so far. We’ve mostly talked about the fact that I cry when people are nice to me in supermarkets.

I’m still not talking to anyone about IVF really. It seems ungrateful but I just find the attempts at support by people who don’t get it to be so woefully inadequate that I end up feeling sorry for them. When I think about before this was happening to me, I know that no matter how sincerely I might have tried I could not have really got how this feels. I don’t even know how to describe it now, and it is happening to me.

Just to be clear; the extent to which I’m not talking about it goes to the fact that I haven’t told either of my parents we’re doing IVF. My brother is the only one who knows and he seems to find it pretty hard to talk about so we usually don’t. My naturopath friend is the only person who’s really up to date. I don’t know how that compares to other people? Do you think I’m making a mistake?

Yes, I’m aware it’s clear that the relationships in my family are clearly not very emotionally open. Which is why I’m protecting myself I guess. I figure if it works I won’t care what they think and if it doesn’t I’ll never have to face talking about it with people I don’t feel safe with. Not very psychologically mature of me but there it is.

Anyway I’m off to make an apple tea cake, with blueberries on top.

Here we go again

So life goes on after they cancel your cycle. I found it hard to know what to write about. All there was to do was wait for my period. It finally came yesterday and so I’m back on the contraceptive pill. Apparently my “cycle diary” is on it’s way through the mail and I’ll start the injections again in a couple of weeks.

Big H said to me yesterday: “Well if we don’t have kids we can afford to buy a house in the country” and I said “Okay, let’s forget it. I want a house in the country”. And I meant it. A bit.

Every set back is an opportunity to question whether this is what I really want. Sometimes I want it so badly, and sometimes I don’t think I can deal with it.

And I think this is the key; my self doubt. I know there are many children being raised (or not) by people with less skills and resources than I will have to offer, but I still question whether I should inflict myself on another helpless human being.

And then there is the issue of only having one. I can’t see us doing it more than once, but I don’t know if being an only child is ideal. In fact I’m sure it’s not. I think three might be closer to ideal (for the kids that is), but there’s no way that’s going to happen.

Anyway, I guess I’ll worry about that if and when it becomes an issue. In the meantime I have to get myself off the caffeine again. And try to remember to take my folate tablets.