Profile

Lifeslurper resides in a big brown land called Auuustralia. Her early years remain a mystery cloaked in a veil of depression. Age 42 Lifeslurper meets the vague but gorgeous Wobbles. “What took him so long to arrive?” She asks. They make their way together in the world just fine, but are not fine to make a baby – not without some outside help. Enter ART and 2008 the year of 4 IVF cycles & one lousy big fat negative. Lifeslurper is now 46 years old! Time for a baby is running out fast, so too is her sanity. Now it's 2010 - Lifeslurper and Wobbles are getting serious about this baby making business. Donor Egg Cycles are the way of the future and the future is NOW!

“Which way to BabyCo?”

Once a couple of infertiles sign on for a donor egg cycle they kind of expect fireworks, girls marching to the accompaniment of a big brass band. At the very least the unfurling of a couple of streamers and the tossing of a handful of confetti would even suffice.

After great soul searching, we opened our minds and aging reproductive organs to the whole donor egg thing. We went on a clinic donor egg waiting list. We undertook mandatory counselling. We did all the stuff that is expected of couples in this position and even a bit more. Continue reading “Which way to BabyCo?”

Post Cycle Anxiety Disorder?

Teddy Lifeslurper wondered if the Crinone brand extensions had been a wise choice.

Teddy Lifeslurper wondered if the Crinone brand extensions had been a wise choice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is there such a thing as ‘post cycle anxiety disorder?’ If there isn’t already then I have just coined a name for what is probably a common condition.

Five spectacularly unsuccessful IVF cycles down and some strange things have been happening. I feel different to what I did before, and here was me priding myself on my ‘superior’ knowledge of self. I am at a loss to really describe the situation with any clarity.  

 I have become vague, worse than what usually occurs a few days in on a stimulation cocktail of FSH injections and Synarel nasal spray. I am word searching all the time. I speak and not only the words but the entire topic goes completely from my mind. A mind as empty as my womb. What is happening? I have seriously been wondering if I had some kind of breakdown or if I am heading straight from IVF to Alzheimers.  

Sure, I live with depression, but this is something else. I have a sense of panic in most things I do, even the most simple of tasks. Feelings of being overwhelmed when deciding what to cook for dinner, which lane to drive in, and which supermarket register to line up at. Actually, I feel a complete loss at most things these days. 

It is easy to blame IVF for everything. I know I do blame IVF for most things. Here at the Lifeslurper Spa Resort it has become a favourite comment; borrowing from the old ‘letters to the editors’ featured in newspapers of yore, before the days of online comments when it was popular to include the line; “…of course, I blames the government” somewhere in the body of the letter. Here we say; “I blames the IVF!” as a response to any event such as when the tea bag supply runs low, or when a light globe blows. It is quite convenient to have a handy scapegoat ready. 

Yet something more seems to be amiss.  Continue reading Post Cycle Anxiety Disorder?

Booking Myself in for ART

Lifeslurper has overdosed on too many books relating to ART, IVF and being too old to have babies.

All I need is for someone to write the definitive Oh No I am Really Old and Now it Seems My Eggs Are Rotten tome and I might have something I can relate to. Continue reading Booking Myself in for ART

Resisting the IVF struggle

Everyday I rejoice at my good fortune at meeting the delightful Wobbles. Seems we are a pretty good fit. So we met when I’d endured close to the twenty years of lonely single living punctuated with a progressively worse group of waster, loser, user, liar, and scoundrel men.

 

Before I happened upon Wobbles, I had finally accepted my fate; I had to take care of myself and my own future. I needed to look to things that would – as I faced my forties – be good for me. Eventually I realised the men I chose where a direct reflection on how I had become to view myself. No wonder I was being mistreated and had grown accustomed to living without respect.

Continue reading Resisting the IVF struggle