Contrary to advice Teddy Lifeslurper kept all FSH in the one basket.
Sometimes the planets fail to line up in our favour.
Often life goes into a dark eclipse as the heavens throw us into chaos. While others enjoy light displays in the skies above us, the only clue of recent activity is the giant craters in my ovaries.
Our fifth IVF cycle is over. It ended prematurely last week. There has been plenty of time to dwell on its failure since. The stars had fated this from the outset. The entire cycle seemed out of kilter, error upon mix up, topped with communication problems – it just never felt right.
As I was being put ‘under’ Monday week ago, ahead of my egg pick up (EPU) I had a slight panic.
Continue reading Aiming for the IVF stars
It was never supposed to happen like this.
Today as my state and country observes a National Day of Mourning for the victims of the fires three weeks ago, I find myself launching head-long into a different kind of grief.
Perhaps it is something about disaster that makes us turn our thoughts to new life? However, here thoughts of a baby predated the fires, along with all of a dealings with fertility clinics. The fires helped me to feel that various daily concerns were petty and unimportant. Yet there is one unshakable truth. Our quest for a baby is an important.
This week has brought a stark reminder of how fraught with difficulty the desire to have a baby is for the aged and fertility challenged.
Continue reading Baby or Highway
Oh no!
That came around suddenly, kind of….
Today marks the first day of IVF cycle IV.
Ever since the unsuccessful end of IVF Cycle III it was presumed there’d be another. Doing cycles two and three “back-to-back” as the footy commentators like to say in place of the term ‘consecutive’ (as in “Geelong won back-to-back premierships”*) was quite a challenge, especially when compared to cycle one. That first doomed cycle took forever to begin. When it did begin, it never got that far. Cancellation saw it end rudely before ‘egg pick up’ or EPU.
Cycle one also left me with a large ovarian cyst, and a growing realisation that our chosen fertility specialist was past caring. With no period meant no way to commence further IVF. A cyst meant no period, but Professor (later dubbed “Professor Doofus” by one bright spark) said we could do nothing but wait.
Continue reading Day One Mk IV
