Category Archives: Fertility

Ovulating? Me?

Why yes, thank you. I am. Ovulating. On my own. Without drugs. We’ve thrown around the line, “the best treatment for PCOS is a succesful pregnancy”, but now there’s actual hormonal proof. Yippee!

That being said, we are still testing everyone a second time to confirm that everyone’s works are working.

That was the good news. The bad news is that if things are not working in 6 months or so, IUI’s are not covered by NHS. And they don’t do Clomid. They do FSH injections. And IVF. Which I don’t qualify for for another year and some. That sucks.

We could do the IUI on our own, but it would cost 1400 GBP. That also sucks.

So for now, we are celebrating the fact that it seems I have suddenly gained the ability to ovulate. Thank God!

And now for the sex! Sorry, was that TMI? We’re all adults, right? We know how this works.

So, wish us luck!!

With the ovulating, of course.


National Health

So we have an appointment with our local fertility clinic this afternoon. I find myself quite nervous. I knew I was getting anxious, but as today has worn on, I have become positively beside myself. I’ve managed to keep myself busy, I got up early and made crepes for breakfast, I’ve baked some truly delicious honey/molasses bread, and I’ve just about finished all the laundry I was behind on. I’ve also finished a unit of my online course and started the next one. And Doodle has been nursed, napped, fed, cleaned, and kept happy. I need to be anxious more often. It makes me ridiculously productive.

On the other hand, I’d prefer to go without the stomach ache, slight light-headedness, and general shaky feeling. Sounds bad, I know. But it’s all physical. I haven’t been running stuff around in my head, I have apparently been suppressing any and all thoughts about it and it’s just making me feel like crap. Part of the nervousness is the prospect of starting all this again; the meds, the testing, the not-so-comfy IUI, and the very real prospect of being pregnant again in the next couple months (we didn’t have the horrible experience that some have had, I ovulated on the first round of clomid and we got pregnant on our first IUI so I’m kind of expecting it to go just as well the second time round).

The hitch, and I think this is what’s really got my knickers in a twist, is that it’s not like the US system where we had great insurance and a really great doctor that I had picked out myself. The clinic we’re going to is at the hospital instead of a nice cosy office. I’m likely going to have a male doctor, not my first choice for sure. And the real kicker…they can say no. I’m not sure of the rules or waiting lists for these procedures. I know the rules for IVF are really quite strict. If we needed IVF I wouldn’t qualify right now. I’m a little freaked. I’m trying not to be. Obviously. I never get this much work done. I’m sure all my worries will come to naught, but of course until I know for sure I’m having a bit of a moment.

Oh, yeah. And if they want to start Clomid, I have to wean Doodle first. Yeah. I might actually be ready (although I feel guilty that I am), but I know that Doodle for sure is not. Okay, for real now I think I may throw up sometime before this appointment actually takes place. Hopefully it’s not as we’re checking in. On someone’s shoes. That would suck.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

And then it was Thursday

So all week I’ve had this and that on my mind but didn’t want to post it because it would have been a sentence or two.  Maybe a paragraph.  I’ve got to get it out of my head that posts have to be a certain length.  I got all inspired by C. Beth’s blog the other day and actually put both buttons on my sidebar.  And then proceeded to not blog for 3 days.  So now I’ve got a mosh of stuff….

Okay, I’ve actually forgotten most of what was in my head now because I’m so frustrated with the UK run around health system.  It’s ridiculously long and convoluted and I honestly don’t want to spell it all out again.  Although I could, and it would be very witty in a sarcastic way, but I don’t want to have it ruin my day and if I continue to dwell on the thoughtless inconsiderate manner in which this was handled I’ll just ramp myself up for the entire day.  Because this, like everything else is in my Father’s hands and He knows the timetable better than those policy-loving pencil-pushing non-communicative presumptive I do.  Have you guessed this is about my appointments with the fertility specialist?  Yeah.  The appointment I was supposed to have on March 30th, can’t even be properly re-booked until sometime after May 18th.  It took me a month to get the first one.  AND getting the appointment isn’t even the hard part.  The procedure that was performed in my doctor’s office back in Chicago has a waiting list here.  And no one can tell me how long that waiting list is.  I don’t see that as a good sign.  But what do I know, right?  Nothing.  Father’s timetable.  Not mine.  Got it.  Sort of.  Moving on.

I remember some of what I was going to say now.  Originally I was going to start off with a lovely little sentence like:  The joy has lasted.  And it has.  Even with this morning’s setback.  I do feel like crying.  But I don’t think I’m going to.  There are far worse things going on that have brought tears lately.  Yesterday we learned that a dear friend’s 5-month old grandbaby had just died.  Still waiting to hear how it happened and very sick at heart that it was possibly not medical.  I couldn’t think of it yesterday without being nauseated.  My heart aches for this family.  So while there is petty disappointment for me, there is tragedy for others and miracles for still others.  And yet, the joy has lasted.  My only conclusion is that it comes from that peace that defies understanding and I am oh, so grateful.

The other thing that I wanted to do was clear up a little bit of misunderstanding over my introduction to Monday Meals.  This is what happens when you edit your blog too much.  You don’t realize that in the taking out of certain things, if you don’t put them back in another form people don’t actually know that you’ve said them.  Or thought them.  Whatever, they don’t know it if you don’t post it.  First of all, I want to thank you all for the comments left.  (And Liz, I just remembered looking over those comments that you tagged me.  I’m totally on that tomorrow!)  I just want to explain a little further where we’re at.

We did a lot of baby-led weaning while we were still back in Chicago.  I made most of his food then.  When we were moving around so much during December and January it wasn’t really feasible to be making our own puree so we did more jars of food at that time.  Once we settled in here in Oxford, he had enough teeth that he was mostly just eating what we ate only chopped up into smaller pieces.  (Our boxes arriving put a damper on that and I took a couple weeks off and used pre-made toddler food but now we’re back to real food) So that’s where we are now.  He essentially eats what we eat and with the imminence of his molars I imagine there’s not much he won’t be able to handle within the next couple months.

My issue is this.  I don’t eat a lot of variety.  This is surprising to me more than any of you, because I really like food.  However, for the most part, I would prefer other people make that food for me.  If I didn’t have the Rocket Scientist to cook for I would eat the same thing all. the. time.  I do like cooking.  I would love to have a huge kitchen and spend hours creating something fabulous.  I just couldn’t be bothered half the time.  (And I currently have a kitchen the size of a broom closet.) However, I understand that that’s not always healthy, especially for growing toddlers.  And, I want to give Doodle the opportunity to develop a wider range of tastes than mine.  For instance, I will probably get him some cottage cheese to see if he likes it.  I will try very hard not to throw up while I’m feeding it to him.

I have quite a few cookbooks and I know there’s nutrition information and even some recipes I think in Dr. Sears Babybook (which I have just found again in my unpacking!) but I thought it might be fun to try some of your ideas and I thought it might be fun for you to see how someone else’s child gets it all in their hair enjoys it.  So Monday’s Meal, or snack, will be cottage cheese.  I really will try to be okay with that.

Shadow and Light

For one glorious day I was pregnant.  Or at least I could have been.  There was a shadow of a line, a hint of pink, in the right light.  I felt…well, it was surprising.  I wasn’t surprised, I’d been tired, feeling yucky, we’d had well-timed relations.  What was surprising is that mostly, I just felt free.  Free of all the stress/disappointment/anticipation.  Free isn’t even a good enough word.  I felt…light.  Dare I say, like my old self, although up until that moment I didn’t realize my old self was missing.  When I looked at things (things being little pink lines and shadows) objectively, I knew it wasn’t really a positive, I knew I was fooling myself, but it was so easy to do, so simple to believe that I really was pregnant.  Because then I didn’t have to worry about it anymore, I could just get on with my day.

Now if you’ve been following me for a couple months, you know I’ve been here before.  Recently.  But this time it turned out differently.  I’m not pregnant.  It was just a shadow.  Next time I will buy a digital test and never mind all this silly interpretive guess-work.  But this time, for a moment I felt hope, I felt joy, I felt light.  And I don’t want to lose that.  I don’t have to be pregnant for that, I just have to get back to my old self, not worry about it and get on with my day.  Get on with my life.  Get on with being Doodle’s mom and the Rocket Scientist’s wife, not someone who can’t get pregnant.  Why do I need to be pregnant right now?  I know we’re going to have more kids.  If not from ‘well-timed relations’ then from well-timed medical interventions.  They worked so well the last time that there’s no real reason to think they won’t work this time.  And even if they don’t, then we just move on to adoption earlier than we thought.  This will happen.  I have to stop spending so much of my time waiting for it.  It’s not going to get happen any faster.  Watched pot and all that.  And I’m missing so much while I stare at that stupid pot.

I feel like I’m not doing this revelation justice.  Like I’m not able to put into words how different yesterday was.  And, really how different today continued to be even after taking the second test today to confirm that it was indeed just a shadow.  I had more patience with Doodle.  And I hope with my husband, too, you’ll have to ask him.  I played more, smiled more, laughed more, cried less.  I was still tired, food still made me feel yucky, but that is kind of my life.  I just don’t notice it unless I’m late.

I am so happy that today didn’t change.  Too much.  I will admit that I am disappointed.  I would love to be pregnant right now.  But I also want to get back to really loving being a mom.  And not just any mom, but Doodle’s mom.  And today I was.  My patience lasted, my playfulness lasted, my smile lasted, my laughter lasted.  Changes in plan weren’t so bad, feeling a little claustrophobic in the church nursery didn’t make me want to just pack up and go home early (which we actually did do, just last Sunday).  There were a few tears, but mostly out of awe.  Awe for how faithful God is.  Awe for how faithful and long-suffering my husband is.  Awe for my beautiful, amazing, not-enough-adjectives-in-the-book-wonderful son.  Awe for another beautiful boy we saw on TV tonight.  Yes, I cried.  I could feel that mom’s heart in her throat and the pride she had for her son no matter what the outcome.

I will do my best in the coming days and weeks to remember this lightness and to keep it and not take on such heavy burdens again.  And then, hopefully, it will become habit again, being my old self.  Even yesterday, as I was realizing the difference, I was glad that we thought maybe this time even as I knew it wasn’t really.  I was glad because I was able to see what I was missing.  I was able to see how things could be if I just stepped away from the shadows and lightened up.

Single lines

If I truly believe in the sovereignty of God and that His timing is perfect and that He has my days already recorded and mapped out and knows the beginning from the end and knew that Doodle would be and would be ours and when and also knows the fate of of any and all future children, then why, oh why, does that single line feel so devastating. It’s not like we’ve been specifically trying, charting, timing, waiting. But I’m late. Late even for me. And it’s not like I have any reason to believe that this time round will be any different than the last. Except that I’ve been back on the Mommy Boards over at Soulcysters and 4 (or is it 5 now) of the other women who were due with me last March are pregnant again. Without trying. One already delivered. Irish twins. Just like my Mom and Aunt. Do women without fertility problems feel such deep wounds over such a simple thing as a single pink line? I want to go rummaging through the waste bin to have one more look. Just to see if maybe, maybe, there’s a shadow that I missed, the last time it was so faint.   Part of this is pride, I’ll admit it. I feel like I’ve paid my dues. Done my time. Shouldn’t have to go through that again (my heartfelt apologies to all my friends who went through so much more than me, I really do know how lucky I got off). This time, I wanted to feel like a normal woman. A woman who’s body hadn’t betrayed her. A woman who’s God hadn’t said ‘no’ again. Now I really do understand that this isn’t likely an actual ‘no’ but a ‘not right now’. And I understand that He has very good reasons for the ‘when’. But none of that sinks in tonight. Tonight things feel hollow. Distant. Tonight I feel empty.