Getting off the Rollercoaster - Going for Adoption

Friday, December 09, 2005

Bit of an emergency post!

Bit of an emergency – my laptop is currently sick with a virus, and I have passed it to our IT department here at work to try and cure for me. In the meantime I am putting this post in from my work PC just to keep slightly up to date!
My new cycle has finally started – with a bloody vengeance, if you get my drift!
I have started taking my prednisolone steroid tablets, which seems really strange, though I suppose you would count a pregnancy from this point if it DID happen, so it makes it a bit more sensible when looked at like that.
All I have to do is get pregnant now (R on standby! Ov sticks in hand!)
Oh – and the Christmas party has been duly survived and since we last spoke I have been running 3 times and mountain biking once, and feel much better all through.
And finally I cannot end this post (short as it was supposed to have been) without a nod to John Lennon. I was a seventeen-year-old angst-ridden teenager with a John Lennon obsession when he got shot. When I got married, last year, we chose his birthday to do it on. Hearing so much of his music on the radio these last few days has brought back a lot of the emotions, or memories of those emotions that I used to feel about him. Fantastic lyrics (and I am not just talking about Imagine). A treat for another day perhaps.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Crying in my lunch break.

I mentioned R and I recently went to the States on holiday – R has relatives in Albuquerque and we stayed there with various excursions around the general area, including hiking into the Grand Canyon. I think I got pregnant at the bottom of the GC – how cool is that!

On our return journey we had about 5 hours to wait in Denver. I bought More magazine, (with a picture of Jodie Foster on the front). I don’t think I really twigged that it was aimed at the over-40’s (I don’t think there is anything really like that over here), but it seemed to have some interesting articles. Something for the plane.

I read an article which gave a brief synopsis of Aliza’s babyfruit blog, and was immediately interested in someone writing about their miscarriage experiences online. Wow. This was new to me.

I got back to the UK, and discovered very soon after that I was pregnant, and logging on to Aliza, found she was too. Bizarrely, we were both at 5 weeks of our 5th pregnancies, both with 4 miscarriages behind us. It did seem like a bit of a sign, if you believe in that sort of thing. I was hooked in already.

As I explained in my last post, I wasn’t confident about my pregnancy, but underwent a whole raft of ‘treatment’ that I had not experienced before. Progesterone pessaries, steroid tablets, weekly HCG and progesterone level testing and scans. Aliza was going through similar, though for steroid read Lovenox. She was also not optimistic.

Why all this? I have been keeping up with Aliza of course, I think she is fab, and am so happy to have found her, and the whole online infertiles thing. You probably know already, she is just at the end of her first trimester. I am really happy for her. But it is definitely completely possible to be completely happy for someone else, and simultaneously pathetically sorry for oneself. Maybe today I was really tired and therefore more prone to tearfulness (does this happen to anyone else?) It just hit me so hard and out of the blue. I went to lunch, and cried and cried all over again for my lost first trimester, my lost baby. Fuck it all. My FIFTH lost baby.

My parents are coming to stay with us for Christmas. They are both 84 (yes, mum was 42 when she had me). I had, of course, in the short time that I stayed pregnant realised that I would be just into my 2nd trimester for Christmas and could tell them while they were here. And R’s parents too. I was going to make everyone’s Christmas happy. (Oh god, I’m crying again, when does it stop?) R’s mum is so dying for us to have kids we had to tell her about all this crap in the end to stop her keep dropping brick-sized hints, and telling us about how every woman in the area seems to be dropping another sprog (and when would we ever get around to it).

I just don’t feel strong at all. I cope, but what is that? I never did know.

It should be me telling my friends, telling my family. But it’s not. Again.

I am just sitting waiting for my next cycle so that I can start my steroid treatment. Might not work even.

Oh – and it’s the company Christmas party tomorrow night. Can’t bloody wait.