I wasn’t planning to write another
Olympic-themed post, but it is hard to find better analogies at the moment. Over the last 10 days, I have
thoroughly enjoyed watching a wide variety of sports, from archery and rowing
to the athletics, diving and cycling.
I have to draw the line at synchronised swimming though…I just find it
creepy and weird. I think it might
be because the athletes resemble giant music box dancers (cue age-old chitty
chitty bang bang trauma) having a seizure underwater. I achieved my very own lifelong dream last week by getting
to see some Olympic gymnastics in person, topped off by meeting my gymnastics
idol, Shannon Miller, a multiple medallist from the 90s.
However, the performance and person of the
Games for me has been Jessica Ennis.
What an inspiration! Not just
her skill and strength, but the tenacity, determination and desire she exudes,
plus the immense and genuine delight she displayed upon winning her gold. Her journey in the heptathlon made me
think of the current chapter of my fertility journey. I don’t yet know if it will end in similar triumph, but here
is an account of the events so far:
1.
Jess Ennis, 100m hurdles: Me, AF arriving on time.
This was a very tense wait, as detailed in
my last post. We thought I would
achieve AF in 2-5 days. I was
gunning for 2, but came away disappointed. In the final hour, target achieved late on day 5. Not bad for a first attempt at
norethisterone.
2.
Jess Ennis, high jump: Me, stimming sufficiently, but not too much.
Again things seemed to be taking longer
than anticipated. I didn’t get to
start my injections until 3 days later than planned, pushing the potential egg collection
day dangerously close to my trip to London. My injection technique developed and improved over the 11
days. I achieved impressive
bruises on legs and tummy and (bonus points?) managed to completely forget to
do my first cetrotide injection, only remembering I was supposed to have done
it 24 hours later! Thankfully this
didn’t have a negative impact on the treatment as I was starting cetrotide 2 days
early as a precaution (had someone predicted my stupidity?!), but it did cause me to have a wild late-night panic and
full blown identity crisis ("but I have always been sooooo organised…who have I
become?!"). My eggs grew steadily
and we ultimately made it to egg collection just in time. The score: 17 eggs, clear of the 25
limit (which would have led to another abandoned cycle).
3.
Jess Ennis, javelin: Me, turning eggs into embryos.
Of our 17 eggs, 13 were mature and 12 fertilised, which is an
incredible rate. We were warned to
expect 60% fertilisation and my calculations made the 12/13 closer to 92%. Cue shocked celebration. Admittedly, I don’t deserve much
credit for this ‘event’, but I certainly lived this one on the edge, waiting
for phone calls and sending every positive vibe I could muster to our little
ones in the lab.
4.
Jess Ennis, 200m: Me,
getting to blastocyst.
We needed 5 good quality, still growing
embryos to push on to blastocyst (the stage an embryo reaches on day 5). Success rates are greater for
blastocyst transfers, mainly because you are assured of a strong embryo simply
because it has made it to blast.
On day 3, we had two “stand out” embryos and a couple of “average”
quality. On advice from our
embryologist, we decided not to keep them going in the lab and to have the best
two transferred on day 3. I am
counting this as a success in this event.
Although we didn’t make it to blast in the lab, we got two good quality
embryos and have to have faith that they made it to blast once back inside.
5.
Jess Ennis, long jump: Me, embryo transfer.
Our ET ended up being quite last minute – a
decision on a Saturday morning which left only time to shower and head to the
hospital. The pre-transfer shower
is an interesting one, as it’s all about washing off any fragrances as these
can harm the embryos. It never
feels quite right going out having used fragrance-free soap and moisturiser and
no deodorant, but it’s definitely one of the easiest sacrifices to make in this
process. Our transfer went as
planned, even down to the request for me to have a half-full bladder at time of
transfer. Now I challenge any of
you to magically generate a half-full bladder on demand! Add to that the small unexpected delays
and half-full can feel frightening full very quickly. And that’s before they apply heavy pressure with the
ultrasound!! Trying not to pee oneself while legs are
in the air is perhaps the toughest physical challenge of the fertility
heptathlon. Our doctor seemed
pleased with the ease of the transfer and despite some noticeable swelling in
my ovaries, all looked good on the inside.
6.
Jess Ennis, shot put: Me, THE TWO WEEK WAIT.
The main goals in this event: stay calm,
balanced, rest up and keep positive.
The main challenges: trying to stay calm, balanced, to keep hoping,
believing and dreaming in the face
of constant symptom-spotting, most of which can easily be attributed to the
support medications (still on 8 tablets, one injection and 4 pessaries a day). I thought I was achieving a personal
best this time around (2WW #8). My
wonderful GP signed me off work, there has been amazing TV to watch all day
long and I have been so well looked after by my super DH. While I could feel the anxieties
rising, by day 7, I was hanging in there.
And then the world fell through my living room ceiling. We have been having work done on our
roof since March and, other than the inconvenience of scaffolding, noise and
mess, it has been bearable. But
whatever they did on Friday caused a hole in just the wrong place and we have
had 4 consecutive days of water penetration, with damage to our ceiling, wall,
curtains, table, light fitting and shade and the countless towels, buckets and
saucepans that I had to run around and grab to catch the water. We also lost an irreplaceable photo
from 9 years ago. So much for me
staying stress-free and chilled on my sofa. I had an Olympic-worthy meltdown on Friday and have managed
not to cry since then, but certainly over-exerted myself in 2WW relaxation
terms. Now I am not suggesting
that if this attempt at baby-making has again failed, it had anything to do
with our roof crisis, however it was one big ole soggy stress I could have done
without.
Yesterday, 9dp3dt, I started bleeding. Just a little in the morning, but
enough for my heart to sink. It
seemed to stop during the day but was back last night and still going this
morning. I googled like a googling maniac until I had read enough accounts of
women bleeding at the same stage and still being pregnant. However the doubt is still there. Tinged with the start of that sense of
devastating loss that I have known too many times already.
7.
Jess Ennis, 800m: Me, that elusive, longed-for BFP.
And so we wait. Two more days until I am supposed to test. Three more days until the hospital will
do a blood test to confirm what has happened. Will I get my gold medal? Who knows. Can I
come away from this knowing I have given it my all, tried my hardest and done
absolutely everything I can to make it a success? I really hope so.
