Tag Archives: Infertile

Projectile Sach

Morning sickness… That delightful reminder your carrying your child….

As you cling to what’s left of breakfast, lunch or dinner. You try desperately to console yourself knowing that “it’s a good sign” you try not to feel sorry for yourself or ask yourself why your doing it all! Because you know deep down it will all be worth it.

But today… Took morning sickness to some seriously ridiculous heights.

I like to think of the sickness as puke contractions… The familiar waves building stronger and stronger until your ready to heave ho out your last meal…

Well my puke contractions started towards the end of my last meeting at work. I could feel the sweat start to trickle down my back as I knew what was going to happen. I made a hasty retreat out of the meeting and threw my belongings into my bag running for the lift to the car park…

The lift… Or the torture ride…. Jumping and bouncing its way to the ground floor.

When I got to the door I ran to the car and ripped the door open crouching by it wretching for England. Nothing came up… So I tentatively got into the car and drive home.

About three quarters of the way home I felt the strongest wave of nausea I had had yet. I tried desperately to distract myself reeling off ridiculous word associations trying to think of anything other than puking whilst driving.

I skidded into the drive (ok not skidded, but pulled up fast) and left everything in the car running for my dear friend Mr. toilet.

I couldn’t get the key in the door properly, and the wretching began again, I ripped open the door as the key turned and dived head first into the toilet.

I have never experienced sickness like it. I genuinely thought I was going to suffocate. I threw up so many times in repetition I ran out of air and couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath between hurls I gripped my temple as the pressure being forced through my head and eyes was unbearable. I really thought I might have burst something in my eye. But I couldn’t stop being sick I had absolutely no control over this violent projectile sickness.

Eventually I stopped throwing up, but I was clinging to the toilet seat shaking and gasping for air for a good few minutes. When I looked in the mirror I discovered that I had burst something but luckily not in my eye, but in my face. Lots and lots of tiny blood vessels burst and have me a nice puke rash all over my face!

So now, I am spotty, bloated, covered in a rash, sick and exhausted!

But it will be worth it… It will right?! ;p

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Doctors, Hormones, and Crazy Pregnant Lesbians!

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Three weeks pregnant…

well thats what I thought… and so did the doctor… until I realised the EPIC fail I had made.

I am not sure whether it’s the hormones, or the ridiculous fatigue I seem to be experiencing, or a mixture of the two, but I have gone slight coo coo!!

Today I managed to leave the hand brake off my car, fail to lock my car door at another point, and then indicate to go left when I was going right. All this in amongst, putting food in the cupboards that’s meant to live in the fridge and other silly things!

But the biggest most epic fail I made was with my dates! I’m a fucking lesbian, how did I mess that one up! it’s not like I had a boat load of sperm on various days to get it wrong!

I have been using a period tracking app for years. How I have managed to read the dates wrong this week I really don’t know.

Below is the picture of my app. The tiny pink numbers tell you the day of your period. So on the 1st of March I was on day three. In my exhausted state, I saw a big fat number ONE, and decided that must mean day 1 of my period, and obviously it was the 3rd of March! What an idiot!! I mean seriously. What was I thinking. I have been puzzling over the dates, for three days! trying to work out why I wasn’t at four weeks, because your meant to be 4 weeks on the day you miss your period! What a total plonker.

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So in fact I am 4 weeks and 2 days pregnant!! Apparently, the below is what my baby looks like at the moment. Still mostly a mass of cells, but exciting none the less.

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The other great news is that the doctors are keeping us on the waiting list for IVF until I hit 12 weeks. This has taken so much pressure off us, and I am so so relieved. So all in all, a pretty bloody good day!

Which brings me on to my next point…

These hormones. I really thought it would take me some weeks before I felt anything.. Oh no.

My boobs have grown so much in the last week I have already had to buy a new bra. But most bizarre of all is all the happiness! I am not complaining here, it’s just taking some getting used to.

If I am honest, I was pretty terrified of being pregnant, it bothered me a lot. The thought of something growing inside me.

Today I found myself saying

I LOVE BEING PREGNANT

what?? Sacha doesn’t say shit like that! It’s like I’ve turned into this really maternal, mother person…

When did that happen?

I coo at babies, and bounce around the office corridors smiling.

What happened to the Angry Lesbian with a soapbox….????

Where has dark and twisty Sacha gone?

hehehe

 

clearly….

newPerson

 

The last thing I will update you on I received a letter today. From the consultant, who is treating me on the NHS. I tell you what if I wasn’t pregnant it would have sent me spiralling into a really bad low. It was SO negative.

In fact, so negative it made me laugh.

I quote:

It would seem that we cannot entirely write off this lady’s chance of conception.

NOT ENTIRELY? that made me chuckle. ‘ye of little faith’ apparently my ovaries ROCK!!

The consultant finished off by saying:

The ultimate test of what the significance of these results will be is how she responds when stimulated but as my best guess is that she will be able to get a reasonable number of eggs.”

Reasonable? no need to be so pessimistic, Mr. consultant, my ovaries have done the job for you! Much to everyones surprise!!

I am not sure the sentence is grammatically correct…!!

Anyway.

Happy Days.

 

 

It's Definitely a BFP! :)

Ok, as if I haven’t peed on enough sticks I decided to do three tests this morning just to make sure… They were all positive!! Here’s the clear blue and first response… Both positive. I wonder when I’ll be able to stop testing!! I am in disbelief

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Breasts

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I have to apologise that firstly, this blog over the last few weeks seems to have become a dumping ground for the batshit crazy, irrational and overly depressed Sacha.

I don’t really have many other outlets to talk about how I feel, but more importantly whilst I love talking in general I hate talking about how I ‘feel’. I much prefer writing it down. I am a born writer, and it helps me to process my shameless, most private thoughts.

Today is bad. Really really bad. I meant to write a blog a couple of days ago about the aching silence between the first couple of days after IUI and the last couple when you can test before your period.

There was silence. It was horrendous.

My body stopped doing anything. There were no cramps, no signs, no symptoms. Silence is sometimes worst than hearing a cacophony of signs and opinions. It was just waiting. Unending, tortuous, mind numbingly slow waiting.

I am now 7dpIUI.

I am due on in 6 days.

Today was bad because I genuinely wanted to punch myself in the face. I am so fucking annoying. I (and by I, I mean my head/mind – my voice in my head which thinks and reasons) would not shut the fuck up.

I felt like I had a split personality, and all over a god damn pair of tits.

Usually by now my boobs would hurt. I thought, they hurt every month. Usually starts 8ish days before I come on and then stops a couple of days before I actually come on.

So I asked the wife this morning if she could remember if they always hurt, and she said no. Pretty bluntly too. I was like oh. Because I was so sure they hurt every month.

Anyway, point being, they don’t; I (irrespective of whether or not she can) can’t remember the last time they didn’t hurt before I came on.

Well, this sent me off on some insane thought process, some ridiculous symptom spotting madness all day. I could scream I am so pathetic.

All that happened this morning, was I woke up and my boobs DIDN’T hurt, and to be fair, I was bloated.

What kind of mad women spends an entire day twisting herself into knots over breasts that DON’T hurt for god sake?

Am I pregnant, am I not? Am I pregnant, am I not? Am I pregnant, am I not? Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?

That is literally what my head has been doing all day. I just want it to shut the fuck up. It’s made me angry, and I was already exhausted today without my head twisting me into a mess.

I am in pieces. Exhausted, desperate, and seemingly slightly nuts.

I found the pregnancy tests that the NHS use, some really cheap pee strips. That apparently are the most sensitive pregnancy tests on the market.

Traditional tests like Clear Blue and First Response, are good, but they measure up to 50mlu. Before your pregnant you have about 5mlu in you. So 50 is about the time your period is due. These NHS ones supposedly test to a sensitivity of 10mlu… thats basically as soon as the egg implants.

The tests arrived yesterday.

I am now away on business so I can’t use them anyway. I don’t really know whether or not I should test, or just wait to see if I come on.

I partly don’t think I can wait. But at the same time I am aware that an egg can take as long as 12 days to implant. but 12 days is the day before I am due on…

How would my body know not to come on?

Look there I go again, I just need to shut up!

I am exhausted, I really am. I nearly fell asleep in the middle of the day today. It can’t be good to do this to myself!!

I just need to keep telling myself it will be ok, whether I get a BFP or BFN… it will be ok.

IUI up, IUI down

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Ok, 3dpIUI (3 days post IUI).

What I have decided is that the above picture optimises, an hourly – daily, weekly cycle, that I, and I guess everyone else on fertility cycles are going through.

It’s shit.

I feel like I am genuinely mental.

I am unstable, irrational, and emotional.

Everything I hate.

I like being, stable, rational and emotionless. I pride myself on being those things.

I hate that it’s only our first cycle. I mean don’t exactly want to do more cycles, obviously cost, and emotional toll, I would prefer to get pregnant first time. But I know the chances are low, so I just wish it was our 3rd time already, as lots of websites say 3/4 IUI’s is about normal.

I don’t know what’s happened to me, for two days after the IUI I was on this huge high, and elated that we had done something.

But I have well and truly crashed off the IUI rollercoaster. I am very low again today.

Body Wise – I had a back ache, but think it was my kidneys rather than actual back, I think I was probably dehydrated or something. Felt a bit bloated too today. But considering I have IBS nothing I am paying attention to. I am still slightly aware of my womb, less so than yesterday. Virtually no cramping any more.

Kind of sad really, at least when I was cramping I at least felt like something was happening, even if it wasn’t making a baby it was us having taken some action.

I am still unsure of when exactly to test. But I think if I am due to come on, on the 27th, then realistically I should be able to test on the 26th. Even if the clinic said wait 16 days, and thats only 12/13.

In which case T-9 days till test 1.

 

 

Tortuous Two Week Wait

2WW

So this is it.

The tortuous two week wait has started.

I had my first IUI on valentines day. Ironic hey?!

I know I am kidding myself, thinking I could get pregnant on my first IUI.

But I can’t help it. Bloody human nature to be hopeful. I am just terrified of setting myself up to fail.

I mean I KNOW the odds are against us. The chances are fairly slim even if you have no fertility issues. Most women take 3 – 4 IUIs before a successful pregnancy.

UGH.

I feel like the picture. The tests, in fact the whole process is waving a big fuck you in my face at the moment. Laughing at me, because theres nothing I can do but sit and wait for hours, days, weeks… ok just two weeks, but honestly, it feels like a lifetime. A full blown, eon of time before I can take a test!

I am slightly unsure of when to test too. I am due on, on the 27th Feb. But thats only 13 days after treatment, and usually your due 14 days after. So if I tested, I am not sure if I would get a false positive or vice a versa. The clinic said to wait 16 days. But that would be a few days after I was due on…. which might be a give away!

I have our NHS appointment on the 26th, so part of me wants to test then, and according to the clear blue tests I could test as early as the 24/5th but no point testing early.

I have cramps, supposedly you can get cramps after IUI and its normal, I had a minute amount of bleeding yesterday too. Again apparently thats normal. But cramps are still there on day 2.

They are off putting. My head knows they are IUI linked. But part of you, the irrational, illogical, emotional part of you wants desperately to cling to some shred, a sliver of hope that it might, just might be a sign.

I’m an idiot.

Mentally I keep slapping myself around the face, for being stupid, for clinging to any hope. I need to get real here. The odds are low. Plus this is my first time, I would have to have some serious luck to get pregnant first time.

The frustration I’m feeling has penetrated my skin, my cells, my every fibre. I woke up feeling irritable this morning, and exhausted.

The emotional journey we have been on since before Christmas, is draining my energy reserves to nil, in fact, I think I am in debt with myself!!

Whilst I might be able to see a light at the end of the tunnel. A tiny pee stick might ruin it all. Throw a big Fuck You my way, and thats it. All over for another month.

I suppose the one ‘small mercy’ I have at the moment, is my cycle is so short, that if I do get a BFN (Big fat negative) I only have 10 days to wait before I would go back to Denmark to try again…

I feel like irony is playing tricks on me, if I have to go back to Denmark, the next time will be on my birthday. What is it with me and dates?

If it does work this time, I will hit 12 weeks and be able to tell my friends whilst were all on holiday at Gran Canaria pride!

And there I go again, trying to piece tiny, insignificant nothings together to find some shred of ‘pregnancy’ or fate or anything.

Two Weeks… Two Weeks… Two Weeks… I hate two weeks.

Fortnights are not my friend any more.

I keep falling prey to ‘googling’

No woman trying to get pregnant should use google. It should be banned, locked down and banished from your life.

I am beginning to think its the ‘google of death.’ You end up in this vicious pattern, of googling one desperate question after the next. Getting more anxious and upset each time. One answer sends you flying on a blanket of elation, the next, down into a depressive tear ridden mess.

Everyone said it would be an emotional journey. It really is.

I have taken to wearing some Danish Kronor. I got these whilst over there, change for our train tickets I think. But now I’m wearing them round my neck… for luck I guess.

Another stupid made up superstition.

*slaps self mentally*

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How the hell am I going to get through the next 11 days?

This is pain.

But  pain of a whole different nature.

It’s pain you cant feel physically.

It’s a nasty squirming sensation. A plague that infects the veins in your brain. Wriggles its way around your cerebrum. Nudging and irritating you just often enough you don’t forget it is STILL 11 days…… or 264 hours, or 15,840 minutes.

Sounds like a lifetime.

Depression. Muses. Life.

muse

I am feeling worse than ever. I saw the above picture today, and I just cried. For me it’s such an inspirational picture. It takes me back to when I was travelling. Reminds me of the breath taking Himalayan mountains I trekked through. The peace I found when I was there. I want nothing more right now than to run away and climb into a big dark hole, hiding away from the world forever.

I want to be that girl in the photo. I should be that girl in the photo. All I ever wanted to do was go to uni and go travelling. Bum around the world for a while, sucking life experiences in and just ‘being’. No responsibilities, no plans, no cares. Coming from someone so anal, and organised I surprised myself at how much I enjoyed travelling. But I really did find a kind of peace when I was away. A kind of silence. Like the silence late at night when it’s snowed or is snowing. When it’s 1am, and nothing moves not even the air… Travelling was my muse, it inspired me, it humbled me and it gave me peace.

I am a shell, a living breathing carcass right now.

The last year has crushed me.

I don’t think I even know who I am anymore.

The stress of my family during the wedding, the job that has sucked every ounce of individuality out of me and forced a monotonous drone of boring beige routine into my life, and worst into me…. but worst of all the fertility issue.

I have been in and out of depression enough over the last 18 months because of ‘life’ but right now… it truly has to be the worst place I have been in…

I just cant cope.

My senior manager told me the other day that he couldn’t believe how well I was coping. He said no one would notice that something so horrific was happening to me. He said that I was really strong, and he was very impressed with my resilience.

It’s a facade. I am a fake. A plastic temporary smile, that I wear for 8 hours a day that drains every last ounce of anything I have in me.

He shouldn’t be impressed. He might think I am still brilliant, I am coasting through the days just to keep myself going. I am on autopilot… again.

I just didn’t picture my life like this, when I think back, this picture, that girl… that’s who I was going to be. I think that’s why the photo has struck such a deep resonance with me.

I have started testing my ovulation again today… when I ovulate this week, we will be flying to Denmark to try insemination.

The wife is so positive that it scares me. I already feel like a failure, my body… my ovaries are inadequate and I don’t want to disappoint her if the insemination doesn’t work. It only has a 25% chance of working at the best of times, let alone with my problems. I am also worried because I have been trying to be really healthy, but I seem to have got a cold this week… that is not going to help me get pregnant… more worries.

Then the thought of actually getting pregnant is also terrifying. All the life changes, I am still trying to get my head around it all, giving up everything I thought I was going to have, that was who I was going to be in my 30’s… not in my mid twenties. The next 5 years were meant to be fun before we tried to have a family…. I just can’t get my head around it. I just can’t. Why hasn’t someone told me it’s all a big mistake yet? WHY?????

I just…

I am in a very dark, very strange, very lonely place right now. Words are failing me, I just can’t explain where my head is. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to see anyone, I don’t want to do anything. I can feel myself locking down, and shutting the world out and theres nothing I can do about it. I can’t muster enough ‘me’ to talk about how I feel. I don’t fucking know how I feel. That’s probably the problem. I don’t have words. The complexity of emotions I am feeling right now is indescribable.

I feel bad because I know I should be communicating, but I just don’t want to talk, about anything to anyone. I don’t want to have to justify myself, and I don’t want to explain my feelings. I just want to be quiet and for it all to go away. I want to wake up in the morning and be that girl in the photo…

But I won’t.

I am going to wake up… still be Sacha, still be depressed, still have a job I hate, and still have fertility issues.

In pieces… Infertile

A little while ago, we went to a fertility show, just as a curious newly we’d lesbian couple. Just to see how much it might all cost.

They were giving out half price initial consultations including an internal scan. One of the exhibitors mentioned a test they can do to see how fertile you are… AMH – A hormone released by follicles in your ovaries.

There was no reason on Earth that a 25 year old should have that test. 25 year olds are generally in their prime but something told me to go to the appointment and get the AMH test (which was an extra 100 can I just add)

The clinic and the wife all tried to stop me getting the test saying your fine your young, no family history, lots of pregnancies etc etc. but something kept telling me to take it. So I did.

Scans came back normal lovely womb you have there the doc said!

The AMH – an indication of your egg reserve came back in a very low response group….

The clinic called me back thinking they had made a mistake and re-tested me for free and asked me to take a whole bunch of other tests. FSH, LH, and oestradiol. All hormone tests, which came back fine.

But my AMH came back even lower… Negligible…. That was New Years Day.

So today I got told that means I will be going through a very early menopause… Late twenties early thirties….

When I showed the doctor my results he actually swore… I’ve never heard a doctor swear before.

“Shit, that is low…. I’m referring you for urgent high priority IVF” the doc said.

I might only have a year or two supply of eggs left.

I’m 25.

I’m not sure what to write. I am an erratic eclectic mix of emotions.

Desperate
Shocked
Denial
Angry
Shocked
Denial
Upset
Scared
Confused

I’ve cried on an off for 2 days. One minute I’m fine the next I’m in pieces.

Doc said that I have to go for IVF now or it will be too late…

Too late… I’m 25.

We only went to the clinic as a random fact finding mission… I am not a huge believer of fate… But something told me to get that test… If I hadn’t I would never have known and it would have been too late.

I am hoping beyond hope that it’s not too late.

I don’t even think I’m ready for a baby… It wasn’t meant to be now… I was meant to buy a house… Go travelling… Go out….

I don’t know.

How life can change in an instant

I’m still waiting for that moment when someone turns round and says “only joking” but it’s not happened… And then I got referred for IVF… That’s when it became serious.

I just… I can’t…

Why me?

I’m broken, half a women. What’s wrong with me!

I am in pieces.