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Being hopeful, while also giving IVF the side eye

By 16th February 2015April 14th, 2022No Comments

February 2015.

We’re a few days into round two… I’m not excited. The beginning of this round was stressful – AF came early while we were in France. I was distraught and furious at my body. Why can’t it just do the things it’s meant to when it’s meant to? I feel so betrayed by my own body. On CD3 we flew back into Heathrow and caught cab straight to the clinic for bloods, scans and meds. They kept the clinic open for us, which I’m so grateful for. Small kindnesses make my heart explode.

Still, I’m not excited about this round. I hate the diet, and the injections and the weird tasting supplements. I resent this round, my body and that I have to do this to have a family.  I’m the opposite of positive and yet forever hopeful. Hopeful that I’ll get some viable eggs. That they will grow to healthy little embryos that are chromosomal normal. That will freeze well. That a little biological family is not impossible.

It’s a massive up hill struggle. I’m sad to be doing it.

I’m beginning to realise only now what we’ve agreed to. That last round we just dove right in, did some preliminary research, enough to confirm what we felt and off we went.

Now? Since the last round failed? I’ve dug deeper. Started reading books and proper research studies and discovered all the horror stories. Things like the effect BPA has on your cells and how it’s everywhere. In paper receipts and plastic take out boxes and cling film – stuff you touch EVERY DAY.

I’ve been reading about cell make up, and how every little cell has a miniature power factory in it (called mitochondria) and if there isn’t enough power from the factory at the right time, then good bye normal eggs, hello miscarriage, hello failed IVF rounds, hello all the bad things.

Even worse was reading what causes a power outage is BPA (even trace amounts) and insulin spikes (thinking of the high carbohydrate/high sugar diet I enjoyed before this makes me ill).

I’ve read enough to be scared, but not quite enough to know what exactly I should be doing. About what helps and what hinders.

So I ask questions. At my last appointment I asked about chromosome screening (called PGS). I think by doing so I’ve just raised the odds (and the costs! PGA is £3k for 8 blastocysts) of getting a baby at the end of this. A healthy, live baby. There are many points in this journey were it could all go wrong, where an embryo could no longer be viable. Considering I didn’t even make it to egg extraction… I’m hopeful, but a bit pessimistic.

This feels like an uphill battle. This feels like a massive undertaking. This feels like a much bigger thing than it did at the beginning of my first round, where all my thoughts were: “no worries! You give me meds, I take them and then you take out the eggs and freeze! Done!” Oh Sae of two months ago.

Now I know I’m going to need more than one cycle. That I’m going to be visiting the clinic with all the scans and bloods every three days for I don’t know how long. That I’m going to be on this don’t-fuck-up-your-eggs diet for the next three months at least. No carbs. No sugar. No dairy. No all of the things that taste amazing. Sad face.

That Zee will be injecting my belly every night again and as I get all teary (because it HURTS) we go through the routine of hugs and silly plasters and down time.

The meds make me tired. The routine makes me tired. This whole thing is hard. I feel like I’m only just beginning to discover how hard. 

This is our Plan B.  It’s a lot of effort for Plan B. But it’s worth it right? Eye on the prize.

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