Archives for the month of: June, 2013


I’ve had depression before. It’s not very nice, I wouldn’t recommend it.

I’m not depressed now. I’m not numb, I can feel my feelings. My mind is clear and I can get on with my day-to-day life.

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After 22 days I have now used up two bottles of this drug which I inject myself with daily, so that’s good. They gave me three bottles. Hopefully that means I’m nearly there with this but as mentioned last week it is a bit uncertain. I feel quite good now though. Tired still, but more myself.

So here’s something that crossed my mind the other day.

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There’s a lot of chat going on at the moment around equal marriage for same sex couples, and one of the points that often gets brought up when people speak against equal marriage is that same sex couples can’t naturally reproduce together and therefore should not be allowed to get married.

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Here’s the new pills that I have to take every day, as well as the injections.  They are HRT (hormone replacement therapy) pills which are usually taken by women going through the menopause.  And as I have recently gone through a pretend menopause (the injections, to stop me ovulating) I now need to create an appropriate hormonal environment to accept an embryo.  It is the combination of the pills and injections that results in a lush and verdant (!) womb without any sneaky little eggs jumping in there the old skool way before they can squirt my frozen one in.  Yes, the IVF clinic has control of my reproductive system again and they are looking to construct a completely natural and balanced environment in there through strange and artificial means.

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I went along for my scan this morning.  As usual it was a trek, having had to leave about 7.30am to get there for my 9am appointment.  Then I didn’t get seen until 9.40am so I could’ve had a bit longer in bed.  Unusual, I don’t recall having to wait for a scan before.

The doctor measured my womb lining using an internal scan, and it is currently 3.4mm which at under 4mm is what they are looking for.  That’s my womb, in the picture.

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Another suitcase in another hall…
Where am I going to?
Don’t ask anymore … (Another suitcase in another hall, Evita)

On my last IVF attempt the clinic gave me my drugs in a massive carrier bag. This time they gave me a purple carrying case. Fancy!

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Something that probably doesn’t come across adequately in this journal is how ordinary my life is 95% of the time.

I’m happily married. I run my own business. I go to the cinema, go to the theatre, go away for the weekend, go out for lunch or dinner. I have chats, I have laughs, I have friends.

Most of the people that I enjoy these good times with don’t know about my infertility or my IVF.

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I find Facebook to be a huge pain in the ass infertility-wise, and from my fertility counsellor I know this to be a common issue for infertile people. Facebook is chock-full of 12 week scans and mummy memes and hilarious and touching tales of the exploits of the young children of my friends. But as I’ve talked about before, there’s nothing to be done but to man up and get on with it otherwise I’d be friendless as well as babyless. At least I get to choose my Facebook friends, and the things that I sign up to see on my feed.

Or do I?

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So I was watching Big Fat Gypsy Weddings: Life on the run, and one of the travelling women was up the duff. She’d met a guy online, got married twelve weeks later, and got knocked up three weeks after that. Fifteen weeks between being completely single, and conceiving a planned baby in wedlock. Oh and did I say baby? Try babies – its twins.

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I have taken folic acid every day of the year 2013 so far. You’re supposed to do so if you’re trying to get pregnant (foetal development and so on) so unsurprisingly the IVF clinic insists upon it. I really should have been taking folic acid daily for the last four years, and I did for a while but when I lost hope of conceiving naturally I stopped.

The problem with folic acid is it is just a daily kick in the teeth reminder that I’ve not been able to conceive.

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