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Hitch-hiking through a tour of infertility

Monday morning 8 am – I began taking the prerequisite Progynova (estradiol valerate, a prodrug of the natural human oestradiol).  The donor recipient cycle plan prescribed I take 3 x 2mg per day.

Monday morning 11.30 am – the headache began. These hormonal headaches are, I am sure, familiar to most IVFers. They don’t disable me and put me in hospital (like migraines have been known to) nor do they cause as much discomfort as say, my standard sinus headache. They are there, and act as a constant reminder that we are again trying to conceive.

Monday mid-afternoon Wobbles made the mistake of commenting “the medication couldn’t possibly be affecting you yet!” He won’t be doing that again.

The headache hadn’t lifted by our Wednesday morning appointment to see Dr Loverley. Continue reading Hitch-hiking through a tour of infertility

Time and donor egg cycler

Time is the enemy of the IVFer in more ways than one. It erodes our reproductive longevity. It also robs us of our confidence in our remaining fertility.

Doctor Loverly’s “Let’s get you pregnant!” statement was still ringing in my ears, when the new-found baby hope – which was purely a result of finding a wonderful anonymous egg donor – began to show some cracks. Continue reading Time and donor egg cycler

Now…..where were we?

So there we were in the midst of the longest IVF lay-off known to this pair of infertiles.

In an instant it all changed. The world turned upside down.

One telephone call was all it took. Continue reading Now…..where were we?

The ART Dung Heap

Lately I have spent far too much time contemplating the ART scrapheap.

 

Another predictably downbeat appointment with the fertility specialist, more delays and a 45th birthday end date looming large has brought Lifeslurper to even more reflection. I suspect that this time even Wobbles’ unfailing optimism has been brought to heel.

 

Our baby is floating further out of reach.

 

Tori Amos once sang; “You think there’s heaven where some screams have gone?” I now wonder if there is a place for all those who have valiantly tried (and failed) IVF. Perhaps What Becomes of the Broken Hearted is a more appropriate lyric?

Continue reading The ART Dung Heap