Every Cloud

After our local hospitals fertility department had given us all the treatment they were able to give us and could no longer help us on our journey we were referred to the Assisted Conception Unit in Glasgow. We had to wait about 6 months before we got our first consultation appointment. 6 months felt like two years as there was no contact in between or medication to try to help pass the time and so we just had to wait for the letter to come through he door. Hoping that maybe a miracle would happen while we waited.

It was at this time I found my self seeking support from other people, not to deal with the physical problems but for emotional support. I felt like I had just been left alone by the medical professionals to get on with things with no support, reassurance or contact to carry me through my wait – instead I felt forgotten about, lost within a system and lost within myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a partner who is fully on board with what we are going through but he is not the kind of guy that talks about how he feels or gets it when I tell him my heart aches or that I found out someone else was pregnant today and it made me want to (or I actually did) breakdown into floods of tears because it’s not me, and I feel guilty that it’s the first thing I think about instead of, “oh, isn’t that lovely!” He has always been of the opinion that it will happen – no need to panic – it will just take us a little longer. It’s lovely that’s he is so confident that we will have a baby and that he is happy to patiently wait until it finally happens but this is sometimes very unhelpful to me and my emotional needs – particularly when my body is the one letting us down and I feel like a failure that I can’t do something that other people find so easy. I understand that I can’t push him into being someone he isn’t (even though there are times I want to shout at him for being an emotional robot and there are times I have shouted at him for being an emotional robot!). He is entitled to deal with it the way he wants, he isn’t that type of person anyways so why would I expect him to be now! I have often thought about whether I would want an over-emotionally involved partner with the infertility stuff and actually, I don’t think I personally would benefit from that, so really his non existent emotional responses are probably the lesser of the two evils!

As I mentioned the long wait made me feel like I needed to talk about what I was going through because sometimes it felt like I was going to burst or that I was totally alone and as my partner was not the person to fill this void I turned to a few special people in my life. I have always been quite open with people about my situation but this was more than that, this was needing to tell people the raw emotions, to share the unfairness, the tears, the days where I felt sorry for myself and grudged other peoples happiness, the side of yourself that hits you like a wave and makes you feel like you are drowning in self pity, the side of you that you don’t necessarily like because you don’t really hate other people for having their share of happiness but you are just so gutted that it’s not you that you can’t see past yourself, the side of you that you can only share with a few people who won’t judge you, who will listen and agree with the crappiness of the situation and who will help to calm the storm, ease your heart, dry your tears and remind you that you aren’t a bad person, that the situation does totally suck but that you are strong enough to keep going. I have a couple of friends and family members who have been there for these moments but none more than two of my older cousins (who are sisters to each other but have always felt like sisters to me). One of my cousins has been on her own fertility journey (with her own amazing success story) and the other supported her on her way, together they have been particularly special to me – when I have felt like I have lost myself they have been there protecting me from my own self destruction and shook their fists at the unfairness of the universe. My cousin who has had her own individual experience has allowed me to rant, rave, cry, swear and get my hopes up when I wanted to or needed to and been there to pick me up when they were dashed. she has phoned me at times where she just knows I need to talk, even if I claim I don’t, and she has let me be a jealous, sarcastic cow when the mood has taken me without judging me and sometimes joining in just for fun so that I feel like I’m not alone, and for all of these things – to both of them I will be eternally thankful.

Another special person came into my life bizarrely through an infertility forum. On days I felt like I needed to hear from other people who were experiencing their own journeys or help myself by helping others with some words of motivation left on a thread, I found comfort in others and support from complete strangers going through the same things. On one of these forums I came across a user who had the same issues as me, was the same age as me and was at the exact same stage of treatment as me and we quickly became fertility friends. I would find myself logging on each day to see how she was, share stories, feelings, bodily functions – you name it – for some reason we could talk about it! After some time we exchanged more personal details and became friends on Facebook so we could talk more easily, see what each other looked like and feel more part of each others “normal” lives! She has now been my friend for well over a year and a half, we talk at least once week and she has gone on to have a beautiful baby boy – she has been my inspiration and motivation on the days where it all feels useless – she totally gets what I’m feeling or thinking without having to properly explain myself. The only negative is that she literally lives on the other side of the world and so we have never met but have offered each other virtual hugs and virtual high fives when they have been needed. Although the infertility journey is a difficult one – she is the one positive thing to come out of this and Sara – if waiting longer for my baby was so that I could meet you – then it has been totally worth it! Thank you for all you have been to me and I hope that our conversations grow from talking about our infertility frustrations to the frustrations our grandchildren are causing us!

Infertility has it’s ups and downs but like every trauma in our lives it’s the strength within and the strength around us that keeps us going. It’s true what they say “every cloud has a sliver lining” my infertility lining has just happened to come in the form of people who have shown me love and support – not just those I have mentioned but those who know they have been there to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, shared an inspirational story, given me words of encouragement or joined in with a sarcastic comment when I needed to hear it – thank you all for being my silver lining.

I just hope some day soon my clouds will clear and a little ray of sunshine may be visible on the horizon!

The Story of a Constipated Chicken……

Before I met my Fiance (6 years ago) I already knew that I might have problems in the future with having children, but as us girls know, talking about babies at the beginning of a relationship is a huge no no and would cause most men to run a mile. But what happens when you embark upon a new relationship that you know is going well and you know that you have something wrong with you that could potentially affect the other persons future also? Knowing that you may deprive someone of something so life changing like having children of their own, feels like you are keeping a dirty little secret. So, I decided this was something I needed to tell him from the start so that I didn’t keep anything from him and feel extra guilty about it further down the line (if there was going to be a further down the line!). So, I braved the conversation with a boy I was just starting to really like, fully prepared that there may be a large man shaped hole in my wall once I had told him. Much to my delight and eternal appreciation his response was simply, “That’s ok, I choose you – we can cross that bridge together when we come to it – but I choose you with or without babies.” I fell in love in that instance. And for those of you reading this who know my partner, Yes – this is probably the most romantic and profound thing he as ever said, I don’t know where it came from and I’ve never seen that side of him again! (hahaha)

Three years later (and still together) I felt ready to look into my fertility issues further as I knew it may cause us some problems and maybe take us longer than normal to get pregnant. Movies and media have a lot to answer for with regards to how we think relationships look or how all the big conversations should pan out – they in no way prepare us for how these moments actually look. Movies will have us believe that at this moment you will look into your partners eyes and say – “Lets try for a baby” and they will respond with a huge smile and an over exaggerated “YES” and you will hug and music will play and boom – that’s it the baby making begins! Real life doesn’t happen like that – or maybe it’s just us? Our conversation was more along the lines of, “I think I want to go to the doctors and look into my fertility issues more.” He looked at me with a concerned face and I thought – ‘oh no, don’t freak out’……he seemed to be thinking…..then he responded…”I’ve hurt my back at the gym – if you give me a back massage we have a deal.” Seriously?!?!?!?……And so our journey began!

As mentioned in my previous blog it was then that I found out my minor fertility issues had become much worse and that I was going to need a lot more help. We were referred to our local fertility specialists in our local hospital where I attended appointments for around a year. The worst part of these appointments for me was that they sit you in the same waiting room as all the expectant mothers, excitedly waiting for their scans of their babies. This is a pretty sole destroying experience and one that never ceased to irritate me every time I was in that waiting room. Its not the pregnant women that I was annoyed at, they probably thought I was in for a scan too, but the fact that it hasn’t occurred to the specialist department that this is a little insensitive infuriates me…..these people are supposed to be clever! On a bad day – a day where you feel like your body is letting you down, a day where you feel like you are letting your partner down by not being a proper woman, a day where you feel useless that you can’t do something that a large percentage of people can do when they are drunk, a day where your heartaches and your arms feel empty, a day where you are sat in a waiting room waiting to be told what hasn’t worked again and what you need to do or not do to increase your chances, a day where your dignity is gone as you have to be examined and discuss some of the most private details of your body and relationship – Why would you sit me in a room full of happy, excited pregnant women? Why? This serves no purpose in my treatment except to turn whatever positive attitude I tried to turn up with and the fake polite smile I had on my face into an immediate dark cloud over my head topped with a feeling of uselessness, envy, jealousy and heartache and my smile would become burning tears at the back of my eyes that I would be using all my strength to hold in as the lump in my throat began to choke me. I can handle seeing pregnant women, its a normal part of life, but not in the waiting room where I wait to be told how unpregnant and un-impregnable I am!

So, one year of varying dosages of a drug called Clomid (50mg, 100mg, 150mg) and monthly blood tests to see if I had ovulated, I could no longer take that drug as it wasn’t working (all that timed sex and I wasn’t even releasing eggs) and I had also reached my recommended limit of being on a drug that can increase my chances of ovarian cancer. At this point I begin to see myself as a constipated chicken…I have eggs (which is a bonus), but I just don’t want to part with them!

I was then referred for a procedure called a Laparoscopy and Dye Insufflation. This is where they check if there are blockages in your tubes by inflating your insides and using dye and scans etc – not the nicest of procedures or the most comfortable, but the nurses were amazing and held my hand as the tears rolled down my face. My partner couldn’t make this appointment so I was in the room alone but the staff made me feel like I wasn’t alone and a good friend was waiting for me in the waiting room. This was a positive appointment in the end (albeit a bit sore) as I found out I had a healthy cervix – not something most women would be excited about but when everything has been negative for so long you will take any piece of positive news you can! I think my friend was both horrified and amused when I burst out the treatment room and announced to her and the waiting room, “I have a healthy Cervix – High Five!!”

That year had been filled with such lows with our fertility journey as everything had been one unexpected negative after another, at that point I had still been so sure that a small nudge from the drugs would have been enough, so every month when the test said negative and the bloods said no ovulation I was becoming more and more disheartened. We were then referred to the Assisted Conception Unit for more help and this is where the next part of our journey started. But I will save that for another day…..

Knowing Me – Knowing You

I am currently 3 years into my infertility journey of treatment however, I have known that I have “issues” for around 7/8 years, I just didn’t know at that stage exactly what was going on or how it would affect me. Like many people I sometimes indulge in trashy magazines filled mainly with nonsense and over exaggerations. Every now and again these magazines will include articles intended to teach us something new or raise awareness of issues we should know more about – I won’t lie, I used to skip over these articles to get to the juicy celebrity stories, shocking real life confessions or to par-take in quizzes advising me on what kind of human being I was or wasn’t. However on one occasion I came across an article interviewing 10 different women with something called PCOS – where each of them discussed their symptoms, how they found out they had it and how it has affected them. I felt instantly connected to over half of the women’s stories and knew that each of these symptoms on their own hadn’t particularly stood out to me as a concern but to see them displayed before my eyes collectively, connected to a fertility condition made my heart jump into my throat and it hit me “I think I have this!”

PCOS – stands for Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. The term polycystic ovaries describes ovaries that contain many small cysts (about twice as many as in normal ovaries), usually no bigger than 8 millimetres each, located just below the surface of the ovaries. These cysts are egg-containing follicles that have not developed properly due to a number of hormonal abnormalities. Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) is also very common, affecting 5–10% of women. (http://www.verity-pcos.org.uk/guide_to_pcos/what_is_pcos).

That’s the fancy definition out the way – however it displayed itself to me in the following ways: no periods, darker hair growth all of a sudden, hard lumps almost acne like under my jaw area, weight gain in a short space of time that was extremely difficult to get off again, struggling with getting to sleep and skin tags – all extremely attractive things to happen to you, I’m sure you will agree! As mentioned before, each of these things on their own could be something or nothing but seeing this all mentioned together in the magazine article as symptoms, I thought – I need to go and get this checked out. I was known by my family to be a bit of a hypochondriac when I was younger causing much amusement when shows such as Casualty or E.R were on the TV. I would begin to display all of the symptoms of some unusual tropical disease and convince my parents I was dying because I too had a cough like the lady on the telly – so part of me was worried that I was reverting back to my 7 year old, over dramatic self but I decided to make an appointment anyways.

I asked to see a female doctor as my usual doctor (a man) was also the doctor who actually delivered me as a baby and had known me my whole life and for some reason it mortified me to talk about lady things with him! When I attended the appointment and told the doctor about my concerns there were two factors that seemed to really frustrate her – 1) You read this in a magazine???? 2) You’re not trying for a baby but you want tested for PCOS???? At that stage in my life I was a little less confident about my patient/doctor relationship dynamic – you know, the one where some doctors need reminded that they actually work for you!!! Anyways, I felt a little silly answering yes to both of her questions but surely that’s the whole point in these articles, to raise awareness and am I not allowed to know if there is a problem with my body before wanting a family? She huffed and puffed a little and then seemed to decide that she would humour me even though I was clearly wasting her time. She asked me to jump up on the bed and pushed around the bottom of my tummy – surely she can’t feel my ovaries through my tummy??? Then she took some blood, told me to phone back in a week for my results and sent me on my way. I was left thinking – what just happened there? Can they tell if you have cysts on your ovaries with a blood test? I phoned back in a week and got told, “Your blood tests show us that there are some hormone differences in your blood and the doctor has referred you to the hospital for an ultrasound in 4 weeks’ time.”

On advice I drank about 4 pints of water before my scan so that my full bladder would make my womb more visible and spent the whole journey there almost giving myself a UTI – I began to have hallucinations about peeing at the side of the road and when I arrived at the appointment and she moved the ultrasound over the bottom of my tummy I actually thought I was going to have an accident! As soon as she was done she said, “right grab the back of your nightgown and run to the toilet – I can see for myself that you bladder is ready for bursting!” This amused all the other patients waiting outside other rooms as I ran by in my nightie pants and socks. Advice – only drink the recommended amount don’t try to be an over achiever and impress them with your ability to be a camel – you are not a camel!

The results showed that I did in fact have PCOS and that was why I was no longer having periods as the slight hormone imbalance and cysts were causing me to no longer ovulate. This really upset me as I thought this meant I would never be able to me mummy, no one really seemed to explain what this meant in real terms but I tried not to show I was upset in case I made myself look like immature and over emotional – I wanted to seem grown up, like I understood what was going on – like when your friends first start talking about sex and relationships and you pretend you know everything because that makes you wise and mature for your age! They decided to try me on a one month course of a drug called Clomid to see if it would make me ovulate. My results a few weeks later showed that I did in fact ovulate and that Clomid would probably be the simple solution to my problem when I was ready to start a family. A huge relief – That was a close one – for a minute there I almost thought I was going to have infertility problems!!!!!!!!!!

Fast forward – 5 years later when I was ready to start a family – re scanned – Severe Polycystic Ovaries – low Estrogen – high Testosterone – non- existent Progesterone (so basically hormonally I am almost a man!) and I am now labelled as Infertile. I knew it!!!! – I knew deep down there would be more to this but I just trusted that they knew what they were talking about and it was ok just to leave it until the time was right. I don’t know if they could have done anything to stop it becoming severe or to stop my hormone imbalances causing me so many other issues over the years, but I suppose the moral of the story is – if you know yourself the way I knew me and the way I felt deep down inside, then don’t be scared to say something, ask for help, insist on being checked and ask better questions about how this is going to be monitored or controlled.

And so my fully diagnosed infertility journey began……..

Being an infertile – Sods Law

From a young age I always knew that more than anything I wanted to be a Mummy when I grew up.  Coming from a big family and a household where my parents fostered other people’s children there was always plenty nappies to be changed, babies to be fed and babysitting to be done.  I can’t remember a time where I didn’t have a baby name chosen for my future baby girl or baby boy, I have no idea if other little girls felt the same way as me or if I was simply a strange child (most probably the latter) but pretending to be a mum was always on my agenda.  In fact, my poor younger brother was often subject to my bossiness/mummyness and I recall many occasions where my own mother would have to say to me, “Stop speaking to him like that, you are not his Mum, I am.” I could never understand this reprimand as I felt I was justified in my role as mother hen, it’s surprising really that he didn’t grow to hate me but would instead just role his eyes and do as I asked!

As I grew older, no matter what social group I attached myself to, I would always end up labelled “The Mummy” of the group through complete innocence on my part, this behaviour or personality trait was never intentional just simply a role that I would adopt naturally within a group dynamic. It used to bother me when I was younger that people always pigeon holed me as the mummy of the group as I was sure this just meant I was bossy and boring, but as I got older I almost embraced this reference as I realised in fact it didn’t have to be negative – it meant that maybe I was caring, soft, patient, sensible, reliable – all the nice images and traits we conjure up when thinking of a mother, this is what I now choose to believe although the bossy, boring part is most likely the more accurate description!

It is because of all the afore mentioned and every maternal bone in my body that it was in fact “Sod’s law” when I found out I was infertile. The hidden pessimist in me was not the least bit surprised that this would happen to me of all people and I can assure you the irony was not lost on me or my partner (who is more than perfect for the role of dad – his dad dance moves and bad dad jokes are blatant proof of that fact!) But, to be told your body doesn’t work and won’t allow you to do on your own, the one thing you swear you were built for, causes a wave of emotions that continue with you throughout the whole journey of trying to prove your body wrong. Sometimes the wave causes you to try to cope or just exist in the moment and tread water, sometimes I feel like I’m floating at peace and unsure of what I feel anymore; numb to the process, but every so often that wave drowns you in an absolute panic of envy, heartache, frustration, loneliness and despair at the crappy hand you have been dealt and you don’t know when and if you will ever be able to reach the top of the water and come up for air……for that reason I wanted to share my inconceivable journey – 2 infertility and beyond – in the hope that if someone feels like they are drowning, as I so often do, maybe they can find comfort in knowing you are not alone – I too fully understand the meaning of Sods Law!!!