Until my body manages to produce bar-coded mucus, Lifeslurper has not got much hope of understanding her own fertility – or lack thereof.
Is it too much to ask of medical science to create a special barcode reader for female mucus? A reader that is attached to its own measurement tool not unlike the DEFense readiness CONdition (DEFCON) used by the United States Armed Forces to describe activation and readiness levels wouldn’t go astray either! DEFCON 5 describes standard peacetime protocol, while DEFCON 1 represents expectation of actual imminent attack. RUMpy PUMpy requirement (RUMPUM) measurement would automatically tell us when it is time to “go for it” or “don’t bother,” unless of course there is a compelling interest or reason why you might actually want to, outside of this whole baby making routine stuff.
Continue reading Charting our way to a baby
Once upon a time in a fertility clinic waiting room far far away Lifeslurper was drawn to a picture book sitting atop of the children’s toy box.
The beautifully illustrated book told the tale of Sleeping Beauty, a princess who at birth was honoured with precious gifts from fairy godmothers. And where one wicked fairy cast an enchantment over the princess deciding how on reaching adulthood, the princess would prick her finger on a spindle and die. Fortunately a good fairy was watching over the princess and commuted her sentence to one hundred years of sleep. From there she would only awake after the kiss of a prince’s son.
Continue reading IVF and the 116 year old princess
Only a few years ago you seemed lost to me for good. You were an impossible dream which I carefully hid as my secret desire. Years were flashing by and I was not brave enough to claim you on my own. You were moving further away from me and I could do nothing but watch. Then something wonderful happened; I met you father. Suddenly you were in reach. The world was an ideal place and there was enough love, time and devotion to bring you into this life.
Continue reading Message to My Baby
Make no mistake, IVF is a young women’s game. And yet it seems hard enough on them. So what happens when you have an unsuccessful end to your third round of IVF at age 43 years and ten months?
I feel utterly convinced that I am messing around with something quite inappropriate for my age. Trying to conceive, let alone attempting IVF seem as at odds with my age as my wearing the current fashions of 19 year olds. Take a guess at how awful I’d look in low slung jeans, a midriff baring tee-shirt, tan foundation, pale pink lipstick and Paris Hilton peroxide hair extensions (or whatever the young ‘uns are wearing today)? It would not be a pretty site. No matter how much I tried to adapt it to my needs, I would still be horribly and noticeably out of style.
Continue reading Old Peg IVF Hole
