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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 47 years old! Time for a baby is running out fast, so too is her sanity. Now it's 2011 - Lifeslurper & Wobbles have moved into top baby making gear. Donor Egg Cycles are the way to go, after a long pause to take stock after a glorious donor egg BFP & the subsequent loss. This year saw 2 cancelled FET cycles, & and menopause causing delays.

Where to from here? After 10 cycles Lifeslurper & Wobbles now await their WobblyBub who is due in May 2012 - actually make that...um....*sigh*...what's the point?

The Cult of Desperation

Our Last Chance Cycle will kick off soon. I have decided (with Wobbles’ approval) to do things a little different this time. I am calling on some extra help with the knowledge this might be a little controversial, and possibly a lot desperate.

It all probably amounts to too little too late as well.

Lifeslurper readily admits to being in need of an attitude adjustment when it comes to ART. Apparently, it is all that will help my elderly ovaries begrudgingly cough up some over cooked or sometimes even half-baked follicle producing eggs.

Without IVF we are stuffed. With it, we so far have nowhere. I am resentful. The fertility specialists tell us we have no hope, at the same time as they offer to sign us up for another cycle. I feel I am entered in a race that I am certain to have difficulty clearing the starting line. Continue reading The Cult of Desperation

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

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