Twinkle

'T is christmas, and the heater broke down. But with all the visiting and cooking and the mild weather it is not a problem yet.
I've lit some small candles for my and your lost babies, medium for my cousin, large for lost parents and the tallest for grandparents.

Yesterday was a family dinner with DP's boys, at his brothers place with a 4 year old and a 2 month baby. In the first years with DP's boys, the little one would get upset if someone mistook me for his mother and would always correct accusingly "that is not my mother!". But yesterday something different happened. The 4 year old was pointing everyone out at the dinner table: "Uncle DP, cousin, papa, himself, mama, cousin, aunt Valery". Then DP's youngest decided his little cousin should understand that DP was a father too, not just an uncle. And went round the table, pointing out the adults saying "papa, papa, mama, mama". And nobody corrected him. DP noticed it as well. It may have been simplified for a 4 year old, it may have slipped out, I don't know. All I know is that it's been six years (and two weeks) since I first met DP's boys. And this christmas had a little new twinkle for me.

Loads of cooking together and an excellent recipe for moist chocolate cake helped to survive as well.

One work week

Work-wise it was an easy week, my first week back at work. But somehow DP and HB had gotten into a fight. It started as something work-related and snowballed into them not talking to each other at all. It was very scary. At first I tried to ignore it, but after three days they both started asking my advice. It felt like a balancing act, the listening and explaining the other side, going back and forth between them. Making sure I was there to listen, but not becoming part of the problem (or the solution for that matter) A couple days later they were ready to talk and work it out over dinner in town. They celebrated their friendship with some more wine and came home mildly intoxicated. Pfffew.

My parents were not so lucky with my brother. He basically told them that contact with his wife and children will always be problematic. My mother doesn't understand and is in tears when she talks about it. My parents were always looking forward to becoming grandparents, but this wasn't what they expected. I spoke to my brother briefly and said I didn't want to (or could) be their mediator. Don't understand what the problem is, and am sure that if my brother knew a solution he would work it out. A part of me thinks I don't care enough- I used to be the peace keeper/maker.
I find it hard to explain that I miss my own children more than my brother's. And therefore it hurts a little that my parents don't (seem to). BambiEyes said I could give it a try, that my parents might just relate, that it is a good analogy.

I want to say more but can't focus enough to put it into actual words, so I'll post before this week turns into a month.

Great Big things

Monday I start at my new job (at the previous company, where DP and HB still work). Bit scary, going permanent after 12 years of contracting freedom, but looking forward to do something again. Even if it is not my dream job, it is a real job.

Yesterday I went to a rehearsal from a brass band (the kind with clarinets and flutes and very big saxophones) The one that my aunt told me were looking for a bassoon. I'm welcome to relearn how to play with them. Such a positive and friendly atmosphere that I went home happy, got my bassoon from the attic and dusted it off. Today I even managed to play some notes and a simple christmas carol. Last time I tried to play was 2006, last time I played well was 1997

Thursday an architect will drop by and have a look at our current house (So I can show him why I love it so). Saturday my parents, DP and I will inspect a canal house that this architect will convert from office to living space. It might be a fantastic opportunity to create our dream house.

While I had a dream that next year we will celebrate Sinterklaas with all my cousins who were fighting over who could hold my newborn twins, it is the first time I felt at peace with the idea of DP and me buying a house for a future for the two of us.

Not so cool

Normally BambiEyes doesn't share anything about herself. It's only when booking in next appointments (or cancelling them) she tells me why she is not available. Like when she got married. I didn't even know she was in a relationship, let alone how she felt about it.
So normally there is nothing for me to worry about. Until this time. She cancelled with under an hour notice, because she suddenly had to go for an extra OB check, but it should be nothing.
I don't know about you, but 'unexpected and urgent' does not equal 'hunky-dory' to me. So instead of my usual outlet and the reassurance I get from her, I felt panicky and jittery. She emailed later to say everything was ok. But suddenly this pregnancy was a lot closer than I thought it would ever get.

Somewhere last week I was having lunch with an aunt of mine, she lives close by. This aunt helped me picking some flowers for our little ritual of saying goodbye to our biological baby in June. She said she had expected that closure would lift my unhappiness by now, that I would move on. She does not know about our DE plans. While I was thinking of a way to explain I had not given up hope entirely and was muttering something about exploring not-biological options she suddenly came out with 'don't do that'.
She said her mother was 40+ when getting children and as a child she hadn't liked that. (My grandma was suffering diabetes and relied on my aunt as her little helper. This may have had something to do with it. Or not. I was too flabbergasted to ask) Also I shouldn't consider foster children, that was too hard for me. (She is right, but geez) I should join this orchestra she found for me, start a day job again, play organised sports, move on with my life and accomplish something again. It 'd make me happy.
Pfew.
HB consoled me that at least she had given me her honest opinion, based on her experience in life. And DP said he didn't want us to be too old either, that we should take extra care of our health so we keep fit.

Just now my brother texted me he had some airline discount vouchers valid till the end of this year, if I was interested. I asked DP, and he said 'Spain'.
Wow.

BambiEyes pregnant

BambiEyes was dressed all in black, so I worried she had another funeral coming up.
I couldn't have been more wrong (thank goodness)
She told me in the last ten minutes that she is three months pregnant now. She realised it is quite early to tell, but she didn't want the risk of her showing and me not trusting her anymore because she didn't tell me. And it seems she expects I need time to adjust, time to process.
The funny thing is I'm simply happy for her. She got married this summer, she's around 28, she's happy and lucky.
At some point she will work less than now, next time we will talk about when. I might need to go to another city (again). When she said that, I was relieved she wasn't thinking of dropping me as a patient (again). I think that as long as I feel she takes care of me it works for me.
Of course I might feel different by the time she is hugging her skippy ball, but for now, well, I'm just not sad.

CD1

I s'pose that is what that thing on my chin was trying to tell me all along, I just didn't get the message.. It's making me feel a bit melancholic, that my body is still trying while there really is no point. Almost like going to the office every day because you don't want to admit you lost your job.
Then again, trying to view this from the positive side: it might just mean my body is still capable of creating a lining. Sending an invite for my de-journey.

Job interview was fine, on to the second round. Other round two is planned for Tuesday.

While shopping for a basic T-shirt to go with the things I bought with my mother the day before I heard two ladies speaking Spanish behind the counter. It was very quiet in the shop. And out of the blue I asked them if they thought I would be able to find someone in Spain/Barcelona who would look like me. They were happy to tell me I looked like I could be Spanish (skin tone, hair) and immediately asked if I spoke any Spanish.
Made me feel happy, to be reassured here and now...

odd

Was doing my homework for round two.
-interactive tv has many shapes and forms. When tv enters your house through your internet connection, then a settop box and then onto your screen it is possible to mix with internet features. Like a list of programs on your screen. And then you can use your remote to select a program, get more info about it or just watch it. You could press pause, forward, backward or record.
Combines nicely with internet 'missed program' options and renting a movie. According to Wiki in the US this is like Hulu and Hulu+
Future options could be that you can buy something when it is advertised.
Hot topic apparently, as a weekly magazine just ran an article about it.
- contacted a former colleague who worked for the company I'm talking with. He came over for dinner, told us he now has the job of our former boss and offered me a job in his team, quite different from the work I did before in that team.
I think this is called networking? I find it confusing. (Although I'm happy with the tips he gave to improve our tiramisu, like 'make it the day before' and 'don't forget the Amaretto'....)
Sleeping on it did nothing to make up my mind though.

Then I let it all sit for two weeks, including this first half post, but sitting at home with neverending November fog was getting me down. So I tried to get some progress on the DE-front.
On BambiEyes advice I asked DP 'open' questions like 'What do you need to know before we can go to Spain?' And then accept that answer and find the information the next day.
We need our medical information obviously, but I have to find out how to get that information through our system, and I think my GP can request it from the hospital and the clinic and then give it to me.
Of course my GP practice is closed this week.

So I sent my CV to my former colleague and set a meeting for tomorrow afternoon.
Went for a run, did some yoga and pilates exercises. Checked my phone when I got back.

And of course the manager from that other company left a voicemail to ask if I can come for round two. Tomorrow.

Of course.

I know I should count myself lucky that companies even want to talk to me in these times with scary economic news.
But I feel scared, almost if I'm cheating. I guess part of being scared is the fear of rejection. Have to remind myself that it is not the same as getting my hopes up for a possible treatment. Work is only going to be good for me if it gets my brain into gear. Not if it is boring and making me miserable for little money. Is it bad I want to distract myself from this next mc anniversary? I don't want to remember the date, I just remember it was a Monday somewhere the end of November. And today is not a Monday so no being sad.

Ahhh, I better return that phonecall. And as a treat I'm going shopping with my mother. In an hour so I better get going!

round one

It was a funny interview. Gezellig I would say in Dutch, pleasant. Hardly about work, more kind of general. What kind of person I am. How I communicate. If the holes in my CV were a mistake.
It is a permanent position though, not a contracting role like I've been used to for the last 10 years. Not sure how much restraints that will cause. When the time is right I want (need) to be able to go to a clinic in whichever country I decide to go to. But that doesn't seem the kind of question to ask in a first round.... And also not the best reason to not want a job at all.

Second interview will be about work, with the department manager.

Maybe then, if they still want me I can suggest a 32 hour contract. Gives me room for BambiEyes and maybe if I do work a whole (or half) day extra I can save those hours for more days off when I need them.

But before then I need to find out what on earth interactive television is.

Little things

I was away for a few days.
The very first evening someone was cracking cynical jokes about infertility. I felt rotten. After a bad night I walked up to him and told him that he couldn't know, but he had hurt me. That I wanted to be away from infertility. He apologised, told me it was his way of dealing with his own infertility. He wanted to tell me more, but I was choking up, tears were escaping and I needed to get away.
It worked though, not another word about IF. And I felt stronger for it.

Then I came back. DP had texted he missed me, and held me tight. He looked at me and said he was so happy to pick up the kids.
Felt like a knife in my heart.

BambiEyes cancelled our appointment because she was sick. We rescheduled for next Friday so I hope it's just a simple cold or something.

The weekend was well spent: Saturday we took the tandem for a spin again, Sunday we exercised in the park together. Finally I felt connected with DP again.

When my mother came over for a cup of tea and complained about my brother and how she hasn't seen the grandchildren since May, I felt my old obligation to make peace for everyone (Avoid Conflict or Confrontation). But I don't know what their problem is, and I have no illusion I can make a difference. And I'm fine not being an intimate part of his new family. Maybe it is not so kind of me to think that he is the one that emigrated and therefore it's up to him to decide what kind of contact he wants to maintain.

A friend sent me a link to an IF workshop. Target audience: people who will definitively not have biological children. Title: Together, going on.
It sounds very interesting, if not confrontational, about dealing with grief and life without children.
Just the bitter irony of going to a 'together' workshop alone .... it bites

Last and least: tomorrow I have a job interview for a company that claims to be the biggest company in the Netherlands in the work I do. And I didn't even know they did. Not sure they want to hire me as a contractor though. But it was their recruitment that asked me. Just hope it will be a conversation about work, and not about what I've been doing all summer.

must keep going

The visit was lovely. It was nice that it was just SIL and me, and my nephew did everything right, was even awake so he could see me. I was happy to hold him, and he was happy in my arms. So so small. And cute. It was nice to be able to feel what it is we all want. That sometimes this dream comes true. And that it is worth dreaming...
SIL did everything to include me and my feelings, I was almost embarrassed. She even said she realised that her belly at the beach would have been quite a confrontation for me. She deserves a prize.

Things didn't go so smoothly between DP and me. BambiEyes pointed out a lot of things I could say.
I could have said I was grateful for DP holding me while I cried last week. Accepting me being sad.
I could have said I was unhappy he promised to call but didn't, that it makes me feel forgotten and unimportant.
I could have said I got library books on gamete donation for him to read, that that is important to me.
I could have mentioned the #3 homework: we are allowed to disagree. we should try it sometime. and who knows, maybe share our feelings.

I'm frustrated with myself that I know all these things but it is still so hard to put them into words. BambiEyes says I've come a long way in connecting with my feelings. That if I find it hard to say certain things I can make little cheat-cards with nice questions/statements.
Eg, if I feel like screaming "why don't you ever listen"
(-but stop myself, knowing this is not constructive-)
I might say "I would like to talk, when is a good time for you?

Geez, DP even said this week I should book a meeting with him, then I would get my time.....
I'm starting to wonder if that really wasn't a joke.
All this frustration starts to feel like a knot in my stomach again. I keep relaxing my shoulders, but they keep creeping up constantly. And my main instinct remains to run away. Depending on how angry I am I want to take care of other people (I'll mow your lawn!! Let me bake you a pumpkin pie!) or disappear, have a different life (travel the TransSiberia Express with a lover, or work in an african orphanage)
Family legend has it that my Grandma used to pack a suitcase full of shoes every time she was angry. I so understand that....

I'm going

And then, five days after my last post, May asked how the homework went.
Oops.
Ahem.
And I realised I had managed about one and a half point of it. I'd started telling DP the same day, but halfway explaining how difficult I found it to be sad/happy I choked up. DP froze like a deer in the headlights, so very silent he scared me. I crawled on his lap and cried, was comforted by him holding me tight, but he still didn't say anything. I finally asked if he understood anything of what I was saying and he said yes. Later he said he could make the call for me, which I gratefully accepted.

But he didn't call.

On Tuesday I called a cousin who lives in the same city as SIL. He was happy to be my back up plan if I would go visit there, and even suggested the famous (Dutch) line 'I'll be in the neighbourhood anyway'

But I didn't call SIL.

Yesterday DP called his brother, made arrangements to visit on Friday afternoon when he knows I can't be there and didn't breathe a word about me.
HB suggested that DP avoids confrontation as much as I do.

So

this morning I figured I'd bite the bullet and go visit on my own. Today is my last chance for the next two weeks. I dialled, got voicemail, left my message and number and went for a run. My SIL called back, saying she was very happy I called and would love to have me for a visit this afternoon. Said she understands it could be difficult for me but I don't have to hide from her.
And the good news is it will be just her, me and the baby and I'm free to leave anytime I want or need. I can hardly believe people would still like me as a visitor.
Phew.
Relieved, bit excited, bit scared and a bit proud of myself too.

Homework from BambiEyes

That was an intense session with BambiEyes.
To do #1: try to let the homework sink in and put in my own words.
Generally when I get emotional I don't remember much, so sometimes I write things down during session. Or immediately after. Now I try one hour later. And indeed it is a lot harder to recall her exact words.
To do #2: Call SIL and say I would be delighted to come visit the newborn. That I'm happy for them, but at the same time incredibly sad for me, so I might cry. How that would be for them.
In other words, ask for permission to be sad.  ask for permission to feel my own feelings. BambiEyes says that if I can't feel my own feelings, it is no wonder I can't feel happy for them either. Even typing this makes me cry again. I don't think I can call. Maybe I'll ask DP. Maybe it is too much of a confrontation. BambiEyes asks 'confrontation with what?' well, with a newborn 'why would that scare me?' because they tend to be cute and small. And I want one. Or two. And I'm afraid I will not get one. Let alone two. And I might cry. (repeat from beginning)
To do #3: practice having a fight with DP. And promise each other beforehand that we will kiss and make up before bedtime. And that time-outs are allowed. Tell him it is homework.
Geez this sounds weird now. What was this for again? Mhmmmm...
Oh.... maybe about autumn break. Tell DP that I feel excluded in the way he tried to organise it. It is hard enough to be part of his family, even without infertility, and excluding me doesn't help.
I find it hard to say to DP that sometimes (most of the time?) the boys are too much for me.
I'm afraid to hurt his feelings. So generally I bury my own...

BambiEyes reckons that if I stopped pouring concrete over my negative feelings and try to drown them I would conquer half of my depression. That I should (allow myself to) be harmonious with both negative and positive feelings. That the whole suppression is what makes me crawl under the blankets...
So. Mhm. In real life I have only few places/people where I feel I have permission to be sad. BambiEyes, HB, BFG. Have to work on family...

Pffff, deep sigh, it is getting a bit much again (aaaaaand disengage)

Pfffft, so many different things (that hurt)

And then everything seems to happen at once. This weekend DP's parents are staying with us because their house is without kitchen due to renovations. We don't have a real guest room so we have to shuffle with mattresses. (And I don't fancy sleeping in the boys' bunk bed)
On Sunday at the beach we ran into DP's brother and his very pregnant wife. I had managed to avoid the belly up till then. Yesterday he called to announce the birth of their second son. DP wants to visit this weekend. (Hello, your parents are here, remember?!?)
Next weekend his kids will stay 5 days, autumn break. Could I please babysit on the Monday afternoon, because DP has a meeting that cannot be rescheduled? Hello?!? What?
Why did he pick those days then? Why not pick the Thursday and Friday while I'm away?*

We also received the twin birth announcement card of my childhood neighbour. I was trying to picture holding two babies and just broke down. Why does everyone have two children? DP himself, my brother, his brother...while I was the first to want it?*

Yesterday I showed some online South African egg donor profiles to DP. They show childhood pictures of the donors, or sometimes of their children.
Then I showed him a picture of me at the age of 5. The only thing DP said was that it is very hard to recognise me. (He is right, and HB said the same thing)

*BTW, rationally I know the answers to these questions, I just need to vent. I'm a bit disappointed that after 3 years of infertility and 2 years of therapy it still hurts. (yes, you can slap me) Disappointed that DP and I don't have a real plan at this moment. I know it is only 4 weeks after Fof's news, only 3 weeks after that disappointing clinic appointment. I know that for the past two weeks DP has had to replace his boss and he takes the extra workload very seriously.



HB says about his mother:"The lights are on, but nobody's home".
My heart breaks for him every time.
Yesterday she had an MRI, and it confirmed the dementia diagnosis.
I wish I could wrap my arms around him and take away the pain.
I wish someone would wrap me up and make it all go away.
Oh well, this afternoon BambiEyes again. See if I can cram all this in 45 minutes.

Do not hesitate for further doubt.

Late August I did send my first email to Spain and it looked like this:

Dear international coordinator,

would it be possible to share some more information with me about selecting a donor and how the matching process works?
I know the most common things that people look for are hair and eye color, but would it be possible to indicate that I would find a university level education more important? And that everyone on both my partners and my family are tall and slender with low BMI (19-22)? What could you tell us about personality and skills?

My other concern is about a donor sibling registry. I do understand the donor remains anonymous by law in Spain, but what are the rules when it comes to donor siblings? Would it be possible after 16 years to organise sibling contact if they wish? Is it allowed to know if there are any donor siblings?

A week later a got this reply:

Dear Madam,

Thank you for you email. Sorry for the late reply. The clinic was closed for annual vacation.
Here are informations about how we select our donors. Of course, as you know, we look for donors whose physical characterics are similars to yours (hair, texture, skin, eye colour, race, heigh, weight, bloodtype). The potential donors have to undergo a series of interviews and then several screenings (medical, gynaecological, toxicological, genetic, etc.).
Murcia is not a big capital, but is a university town. Most of our donors are young students. The average age is around 22 and 25 years old.
As the donation is totally anonymous in Spain, you won't be allowed to know neither the donor's identity nor the potential siblings.

I hope I've answered your questions. Do not hesitate for further doubt.

Best regards and have a nice day!
(name deleted)
International coordination
IMFER

The answer to the sibling registry is a loud and clear NO to me. The answer to selecting and matching? very implicit to me. I meant selecting a donor for me, not the screening before someone can be a donor. I'm thinking that one will never have a perfect match and therefore choices will have to be made. My hair was straight for 30 years, then decided to curl. While this may be a sort of unique genetic feature I don't actually care much, whereas a higher education (or other indication of genius ;-) does matter to me more.
DP was disappointed, he expected us to go through some kind of donor photo album.  

The scientist in me balks at "the average .. is .. 22 and 25.." An average is one value!!! My inner linguist-peace keeper comes in with "most of our donors are students, aged between 22 and 25"

But I keep being baffled by the punchline "Do not hesitate for further doubt" What did she think in Spanish for it to come out this way?! She could not possibly mean 'feel free to doubt anything I just said' or 'doubt yourself more, quickly' or 'do not hesitate, come to our clinic quickly before you get any further doubts'
(maybe my inner linguist is a sulky teenager having fun here)

Looking forward to your interpretation of this gem

low

In between everything happening I had an appointment with the family doctor to ask about hair loss and thyroid on Sweet G's advice.
The very first thing my doctor said was "Menopause of course! Don't you know that hair loss is a common side effect?" Erhmm, well, I hadn't stopped and thought about that, no.
But she didn't hesitate to send me for a blood test and liberally ticked boxes on the form.
The results are all in now (some took longer than others)

TSH - T4 good, so thyroid is fine.
Hb - 7.3 just below normal
MCV/MCH/MCHC
Folic acid
Vitamin B12
Ferritin  

are all low. All these results together point to iron deficiency anaemia so I'm to take vitamins for three months to help against the hair loss (I have started those last week) and she will fax my iron tablet prescription to the pharmacy today. 45 to begin with, 2 to 3 tablets per day. Less if constipation becomes a problem.Call back when I'm done. She advised to drink lots of water. At least the vitamin-supplements will keep the fun in bathroom visits: fluorescent yellow

Useless

That was one useless appointment at the clinic. After acknowledging that plan D wasn't happening the doctor asked us: "...and now what? " Hello?! that is my blogname. No we don't have another Dutch donor. Well, then, she couldn't help us. No, the clinic did not know anything about Belgium or Spain. No experience nor collaboration, nothing. She told us there is information to be found on the www.
Putting things on their heads or what?! I mean, yes of course, some people do their own research on the web, educate themselves and discuss it with their doctor, but old fashioned me was hoping the doctor would have at least an inkling of what is best for me?
DP agreed it was a very disappointing meeting. He was in fact so disappointed he didn't want to go back to work and suggested we dropped by HB, who had been up all night working and was at home.
As an outlet for all our frustration we attacked the foot-long grass, cutting it into submission. Although the battle is not yet won we recovered at least 7 apples.

 Sweet G, you are right in observing that DP and I have learned to talk and share better than before. I guess I have learned that we both find it hard and process things our own way. Right now I'm worried about DP checking age limits, pointing out to me we don't have to hurry into anything within 8 months. But I'm hoping that once he has that established we can decide on our own timeline. (the doctor did say that pregnancy is harder for older bodies to adapt to)

And yes Fran, I will start doing more homework on clinics ;-) . I hope DP will get involved with the questions when we start getting some answers and that at some stage we feel a bit in control again.
Have a good weekend dears.

Stormy weather

I've been sad. Sad for me, DP, for the DE baby that isn't, for Fof. And then, of course, there is more sad news.
*The neighbours' fantastic tigercat died. He was still so young. And every time I sit down at my kitchen table I look at their window and miss him. I bought a cat-shaped-pillow-thingy for them, hoping they will put it in the window. But I haven't worked up the courage to ring their bell yet.
*HB came over to bake apple pie. And told me that the diagnosis for his mother is indeed dementia. She has been getting worse since his father's illness and he has to tell her he died almost every time they speak. He urges me to get to know my parents better, talk to them while I/they/we? still can
*I tried to get an extra appointment with BambiEyes this week, but someone in her family died and the funeral is on Friday (the only day she works in Amsterdam) I don't even know how to be sad for her too as well, don't know how to reply to that email.

Other things now. My cousin enjoyed the apple pie and was good company to listen to my plan D ending.
I bought flowers and "heart warming" tea for Fof, wrote a card, boxed two pieces of apple pie and delivered them personally last week. (and left super quickly so I could cry some more in the next street)

DP and I didn't quite make it to Belgium, the weather suddenly turned nice on Saturday so we didn't want to spend 4 hours in the car, instead we went to a village with the funny name of Babberich, Babborga square for a long walk. We didn't run into Barbapapa though ;-)
Had a very lovely dinner. I tried to get an idea of DP's feelings towards our Spanish DE plan but didn't get much out of him. He asked what the age limits are for them, if we are in a hurry now. I suppose that technically no, I'm still 39 for another 9 months. And I haven't seen any limits below 40, more often 42 and 43. I guess this means he is still processing. But my math-pixie whispers that if I don't get pregnant tomorrow I will not become a mother at 39 (math pixie takes 40th birthday - 9 months.) so that I will be an OLD mother and should start feeling old right now. Pffft. Okay, I'm not in that much of a hurry, but I still want to do something this year if possible at all.
The next day we walked in the forest. It was nice to just put one foot in front of the other, be together and not think too much. Had a pancake for lunch that was so filling we didn't need dinner anymore.

This week seems harder. I can't seem to concentrate. When I move it feels heavy. If I finally make it to the supermarket I have no idea what to buy. It seemed a big accomplishment to return three books to the library. It is taking a huge effort to write this today. I bought some vitamins that turned out to be in capsules almost one inch big and they are just so hard to swallow.
Tomorrow we have an appointment at the clinic, they sent us a letter last week. When DP saw the envelope he wondered if they want 'to rub it in'. I suppose it is decent of them to inform us of their decision / negative advice about Fof but I'm not sure I want to dwell on it. And I don't think they have much else to offer. I hope I have the focus to ask about their experience and/or collaboration with foreign clinics.

Today I bought a big bunch of flowers in perfect autumn shades for no particular reason ~ #63 from the 99 things list and tinkered with my camera settings...

Plan D: the last step

And suddenly her email popped up: The clinic strongly advised Fof against the stimulation medication, because of the risk of her depression returning. So she will not be donating her eggs.
I was so afraid this would happen. And now it did.  Plan D fell through before we even got started.
I called DP at work and he was disappointed. I think he said 'Bummer', he hadn't expected this. I decided to call my brother and cry on the phone some more. My poor brother, he didn't even know about plan D, he felt so deeply sorry for us. Then I called HB (and he sent DP home when he heard)

We had gotten used to the idea of Fof as our donor in the past 6 months, grown quite fond of her. Grown attached to the hope of this journey.
And now it is over. I can't even say that we are back where we started, we're older and sadder now, with less options.

HB is coming over today to bake apple pie, my favourite cousin will come over tomorrow to eat it (she doesn't know the news yet)
And I'm secretly grateful my parents just left for two weeks, still have to practice sharing my sadness with them. It means we can use their car and plan a little weekend away, to the Belgian Ardennes. Stomp up a hill, eat nice food with lovely beer for DP (and who knows ~talk about plan E).

Stories from down under

27 I was, and I thought it was a good idea to move to the other side of the world, the under side. Made some friends who kept looking at me and smiling, saying I should really meet a Spanish friend of theirs because we had so much in common: the way we looked, moved, same sense of humor, the way we laughed... But I never got around to meeting her.

Four years later, traveling through Argentina, the waterfalls. An older couple approached me. They didn't speak English, my Spanish was too limited so we settled on French. A bit surreal. They told me they were from Spain and had a daughter just like me. I told them I was traveling around the world. As I spoke I could see their faces light up, their daughter was traveling too and they missed her. All those similarities, even my voice sounded the same. They were reassured by seeing me happy and healthy, it was easier now for them, as if they'd had a glimpse of their daughter...

On my stop over in Chile the street sellers approached me in Spanish. If only I hadn't been so clumsy with numbers (their pesetas go by thousands at the time!) I could have gotten much lower prices, they tripled their price when 'converting' to dollars... I believe that in most countries tourists stick out like an alien species and are treated as such, so in Chile I didn't expect to blend in, such a long way from home.

Do you have any look-alike adventures?

With these experiences in mind I've been pondering to start gathering information from Spanish clinics. The first email has been sent! It would be nice to feel like fitting right in....
And it would be so nice if this kept the possible disappointment of Fof maybe not accepted as donor at bay. Somewhere in September we should know.

What if

What if September would be the last step of Fof's DE journey?

Does it matter at which point the journey stops? -- when there is a myriad of ways it can go wrong....

I need to keep believing I can handle the end of the road. Even though I know I have a back up plan, I still want this to work.

Hair Loss

I'm at home. Trying to keep my sanity. It is my full time job since April this year. Waiting for news, hoping for good news.
My body lets me know it is hard work: little aches and pains,visual aura-without-migraine, small signs of stress. And yes, the latest thing is hair loss. I have quite a lot of hair, and always seem to lose it (this really long one here in the spaghetti, yes sorry, that is mine too, and the shower will not be mentioned)
But recently even my cleaning lady suggested I should go see a doctor about it. Geez, it's only hair. It doesn't seem important enough to see a doctor for when there is still more than plenty on my head. (Even though seeing my doctor is free) And I keep thinking that soon I'll be further along the DE journey, and I'll be happier and have less stress. (Oops, even to me that sounds a bit naive now)
It's just hard to realise that this is all part of my life. That this is happening to me. That I can spend days thinking I want to write a letter to Fof, trying to boost her into not becoming depressed for me but this is all I come up with:

If we even get past the first hurdle of her being accepted as a donor it doesn't mean smooth sailing from then on. The stimulation may be too much to continue, it may be too little to work. Follicles could grow too fast, too slow. Timing of the trigger could be wrong, there isn't always an egg in every follicle.
Not every egg gets fertilised. Not every embryo divides. Not every dividing embryo stays alive till transfer. There could be something good enough to freeze, but maybe not. If we make it to transfer I have 25-ish percent chance of getting pregnant(?) If we get to the second line I have 25% chance or more of miscarrying.
FET gives about 10% as a leftover bonus chance.
But whatever happens it stops happening to Fof after retrieval.
I guess to me having a double digit chance is so much more than before that it makes me hopeful. Not optimistic (lost my optimism when my 34th birthday rolled around and we still weren't starting TTC) but hopeful.
Much better than January. Made the mistake of looking at old posts. Sometimes it helps to know I'm a bit better now, but today, well today the here and now is all I can handle. And that should be good enough for today.

Important step

Hey, this is post number 100...!
But that is not important to me. What is, is that I finally got news from Fof!
The good news is that physically she has the clinic's OK: bloodwork all looks good and her scan was approved.
The unknown part is the mental side: the clinic needs to look into research of the risk of depression caused by the hormone-stimulation-medication. For a 'certain group' of women there is a risk, so in CCC-III they probably need to verify if Fof is in that group.
She just emailed me and she sounded so disappointed, and worried for me. I emailed her back, trying to cheer her up: the good news is great news to me.
And on the depression risk, she is trying to share her happiness as a mother with me, I'm not trying to rob her of her happiness. I can do simple stuff (pay for petrol, drive, prepare a meal) but I cannot brighten her days darkened by medication. I cannot give her family time that could be sucked away by depression.
I'm glad I'm not the one having to weigh the risks in September! And I'm glad the clinic is taking her health serious. (And I'm glad I have my BambiEyes taking care of me)

The weather turned sunny here in Amsterdam, the city is full of happy gay pride visitors and till somewhere in September I've got nothing better to do than enjoy the good news....

Maybe tonight at 3 am it will all look bleak to me, but for now... celebratory cupcakes! Made when visiting my friend with the twins running and little bigfoot walking around.

Everything takes so long

Three weeks of stepmomming, two weeks of camping, one week of rain. It took so long.
But I survived. The guys had a good time and I didn't go out of my mind with frustration, I managed to stick to boredom.
Now I'm home alone and actually enjoying the peace and quiet. I'm dry and clean, my hair is brushed and I had the whole pot of nice Twinings Indian Chai for breakfast to myself.

(It also seems to take a long time to write this, sorry)

Clinic Counsellor Conversation - II
It was Fof's turn for a CCC. She emailed they had had a good meeting about her motivation and their view of egg donation, but only covered part of the necessary subjects, so a follow up CCC is scheduled. In September.............
I know, summer holidays, super slow shrink, stupid schedule and such, but if every step of the way will take a month or two I'm afraid we'll never get there.
I got the email halfway our camping trip. And I haven't even managed to reply. (it shouldn't take this long)


I saw BambiEyes on Friday and she said that if I'm concerned about running out of time I should contact the clinic. I am concerned and worried. But I'm thinking that contacting the clinic to cry about that is not going to change anything. HB tells me I should call, even if only to know for sure that I will have done everything I possibly can. Because the 'if only-s' could haunt me later...
I find it hard to not rationalise my fear away. Rationally we are still taking steps, still in the right direction. Emotionally? I feel sad, empty handed and powerless. I feel time slipping away, I want to turn it back, I don't want to let go. I wasn't any good at being 37 , at 38 at least I made my DE decision and took the first steps, but I'm so slow! Everything takes so long! I'm 39 already!! (and I feel just about ready to try 36 again) When I find that loophole into the alternate universe of other chances I will let you know.

On Monday 18 I swallowed the last pill of that first strip. So on Friday I was also worried that nothing had started to bleed yet. Again, I didn't think it was supposed to take that long? So it seemed OK to me to ask for a clinic doctor. But Saturday I spent in bed curled under the doona (duvet sounds so formal!) keeping my stomach warm because the bleeding and cramping had started. Also a great way to avoid the other 3 people in the house.
Sunday we were supposed to go out for dinner with DP's family, complete with his brother and 6m pregnant partner before bringing the boys back to their mother. It seems such a nice way to conclude the holiday and it is really nice from his parents to invite us all.
I made it to his parents, but after 2 hours I escaped by train and avoided the rest of the gang. Went to the 'safe house' that is HB's place.
He lets me curl up on his couch and I don't have to talk. Sometimes I feel sad for me, and then I feel sad listening to his story. After his father died his mother wasn't coping well at all. She thinks he is still ill... So HB has to tell her that father died again and again. Two months now. I hope the pills will help soon.

What else is bothering me...
Oh, yep, with the clinic taking its time and not all tests 100% hurray for Fof first time around and oh, no 100% guarantee it might work in the end I was thinking that maybe I should pull my head out of the sand and slowly start thinking about a back up donor plan. At the side of some French pool filled with noisy children going off waterslides I asked DP what he thought, and he answered that he would be comfortable going to a Spanish clinic for DE. Like we read in the library book on DE that I made him read. So half my brain is happy. The other half is confused. I know it is too early to know if our known-donor-adventure is safe. But I don't even know where to start thinking about an unknown donor...

Maybe for now it is enough to admit that I'm scared and sad. This morning in the supermarket I got sad seeing my dead cousins birthday as best before date on the yoghurt I bought. I cried reading the newspaper about the Norwegian shooter.
I'm scared of the news Fof should get this Thursday from the clinic doctor about being a suitable donor. And afraid of another 'we don't know yet' ....

Agreed

Armed with a bottle of Amé rosé and a real bottle of wine we set of to Fof and partner. When we came in we had to start with some small talk because one of the girls was still awake. But sort of naturally we made the connection to the real topic of 'information management'. They agreed with us that it makes sense to wait with names till all the children are old enough. They also said it was good to align the story now already: her girls may notice her medication during stimulation, or Fof not feeling well after retrieval maybe. It is nice to tell them the truth without names, and so without the (possible) burden of having to keep it a secret. Her daughters are still young enough (6 & almost 8) to accept a story without thinking of all the consequences yet. They may be too young to remember so in a distant future a genetic half sibling could be a surprise, but by then they will be adults already...

At the clinic the counsellor had asked me if I knew Fof's date of birth so she could easily retrieve that file, but I didn't know. While arranging the meeting with Fof I sent her mine so she will not have that problem at her meeting. But we both agreed that with just the one friend in common our social lives have just the right amount of distance now. And since I'm the kind of person who likes to remember birthdays it would just be easier to not know.

All in all we had a nice evening, they are looking forward to their meeting with the counsellor, DP feels right on track and I'm slowly believing that we are taking the hurdles step by step. Oh, the clinic doctor had let it slip that I had already started taking the pill and they were a bit surprised by that. So I explained that I want to be prepared for things going wrong, like my body not responding to the pill and having to switch to another dosage or some such and losing three months in the process... and that it would be convenient for our camping trip, starting this week!

Urgh, camping... I'm already fed up with the kids, they have been here only 24 hours, but it was a bit rough and I was awfully snappy with everyone. DP wanted them to cycle through the city centre with us. Across DAM SQUARE of all places! But the kids were listening to all our instructions and we managed to keep them safe. So while their table manners are still a bit disappointing (is it really asking too much not to speak with one's mouth full?!) they are OK at times (I admit grudgingly)
So I'll fall off the grid for a fortnight. Just have to remember to take it day by day and that despite the bad days there will be good days.

Clinic Counsellor Conversation

The Counsellor was ok. Bit older than us and she spoke with a Flemish accent, which sounds to Dutch ears as Very Clear ProNuNCiaTioN. As I had thought a lot of time was spent on 'consequences for everyone involved', on the most basic level: what will we tell whom and when. Since I've been fairly open about my lack of eggs it makes the most sense to be open about donor eggs from the beginning as well. But the most important point for me was to realise that it is possible to have a known donor, but NOT share her identity till the child is ready and interested.
Experience learns that some children are interested, feel a 'missing piece' and other children are simply not.
She stressed the point that I will be the ONLY mother, that it is the clinic's point of view that the donor should not want nor get any motherly bond or contact.
While I agree on me being the real mother I have to get used to the idea of not having some kind of casual contact.

The short term outcome of this step is that Fof, our partners and I need to agree on what to tell the existing children. Probably some story of 'nice lady went to the hospital to give an egg' for DP's boys and 'mommy went to the hospital to give an egg so some nice lady can have a baby too' for their girls, without names for the 'nice ladies' involved. Of course these genetic-half-siblings only need to be told in case of actual live baby being born.
But we need to agree before Fof's CCC appointment next week. Sounds simple enough. I have no doubt it will be easy to agree, but pffffff it is another little step that I have to arrange.

O well, pharmacy was easy thank goodness. Name, date of birth, 15 euro, goodbye. Since DP had to attend some school evening for his boy I spent the evening at HB. And because it had been at his place I took my last pregnancy test it seemed the right time and place to take my first pill there too. At least that was easy.

Tiny step

Just got off the phone. My tiny step is that I tried to order a prescription for the pill through some kind of voice mail system from my gp's practice. If it works I can pick it up at the pharmacy tomorrow. Tomorrow. So if the system does not work I'll stand there in the pharmacy feeling odd. Tomorrow is also the day DP and I will speak with the clinic counsellor about Donor Eggs. I keep telling myself it will probably be nothing more than a polite conversation where some lady verifies that we know what we are doing and are aware of the consequences for everyone involved. (But of course it feels like some stranger can just say she doesn't think we should be parents and should not receive treatment from their clinic)
So ordering the pill is another step, 'proving' I said goodbye to my genetic miracle. But it will also be nice to not be spotting for four weeks without getting a period. Or a surprise flood. Especially since we will be camping for two weeks in July. Not looking forward to it, but also not dreading it as much as other summers.

You know, I've been thinking about getting a print of the picture of the goodbye basket. But it seems so hard. I kind of know what I want, a square white card with the picture in the middle. But it is hard not to be put off by the print-order-websites with all the options I don't want. I wouldn't know what text to put on it. I'm not prepared to tell my parents we named our (dream of our) little one Knut. I'm not even sure I can show them the card. I think everybody else accepted the fact long ago and it is just waiting for me to move on. I don't want to cry in front of my parents -much prefer you guys/ladies. My mother acts weird and nobody feels comfortable. My mother is great when she believes I'm fine so I'll leave it like that for now.

For my birthday I treated myself to my first pedicure ever, the weather is suddenly tropical so I might just go out and flaunt my professionally polished toe nails.

Big Steps

Life keeps happening.
I wanted to do our little ceremony while I was still 38, so we ended up doing it on the very last day. I was not looking forward to my birthday and had said to DP we would be ignoring it. On the train to the beach he apologised that he would not have a birthday gift for me and that he would not pop the question.
Ehem.
(?)
Thank you, I guess.
I wasn't in the mood for present anyway.
With my aunt and uncle I had a lovely scones-and-cakes breakfast as a celebration, small party, big breakfast though.
In the mean while I was getting nervous for news from Fof. I had convinced myself it would be more bad news and that I couldn't handle it. That I was not ready to say goodbye to my possible donor. So when her email came in I downloaded it to my phone without looking and arranged to meet HB, who could get out of work half an hour earlier than DP. After he told me it was safe to read I read it super quickly (and the three of us went for sushi). Fof mentioned hope and more appointments and more test results that had to come in, something like July 8 and 28. A day later now, and I still can't bring myself to read it carefully. I need some time to recover from my fear first.

While I was in Egypt DP had gone to the clinic because they wanted to test his sample at some stage. When he told me I thought it would have been for nothing, but now it seems he was right.
So we need a (phone) appointment to get the results for that too.
It is a good thing that our meeting with the clinic counselor is only in two weeks, at the moment the whole idea of planning things in the future feels a bit preposterous, like hubris.
Maybe I'm just afraid to allow hope back in.

Bye

Saying goodbye is hard, sometimes


This was our little goodbye basket, just before I put it to sea. And if your sense if irony is well developed you'll appreciate that everything about it was hard:
In the middle a struggling candle, that had trouble staying upright. (The candle on the beach wouldn't burn for more than two seconds before the wind blew it out again)
The white flower is from a Hortensia in my parents' garden that has been there for a very long time. My aunt gave me little blue Hydrangeas to match, and a handful of forget-me-not-s. From HB's garden some lavender, from our balcony some strands of oregano, thyme and rosemary. I meant to rub them to release the soothing aroma but DP was helping and had already put them in.
From me was a little strand of hair, tied with a ribbon from my brothers wedding.
From DP was a little goodbye letter. I was hoping he would read it, but he just put it in the basket. I managed to convince him to take a picture before we let go. (But the picture is out of focus)
Then we waited for a moment between waves, I set the basket down on the water and it floated, ... just... till the next wave toppled it over. DP picked everything up, tried again, but the waves kept pushing it back even though the tide was going out. Then we decided to throw caution and the basket to the wind, I just wanted to make it go away.
DP watched the upside down basket bobbing in the waves for a while, I just buried my tears against his shoulder. Feeling slightly silly in my grey silk summer dress. Oh deep sigh, that critical voice would just not shut up. It just kept pointing out the meaninglessness, kept saying that none of this was real, that we were faking it.

So, anyway, life and or universe don't go to plan, it is not like we didn't know.
At least the sunset was beautiful.

Dreaming away

'twas magical.

The moment I submerge I'm in another world. It takes my breath away -literally- and lifts the weight of my shoulders -also literally. It is possible to not think, not feel sad but just look, look look at the colours of the abundance of fishes, the coral and all other creatures.
My ears always protest a little at the increasing pressure, but nudging them gently they will squeak, squeal and finally squeeze into equilibrium. At first I hear nothing but the escaping bubbles of my own breathing. But then, sometimes, a parrot fish munching on coral. KrrrGGggK. Or a school of little damselfish making tiny tick sounds (like popping mini bubble wrap). A dive buddy making a metallic sound to point out a rare creature. And towards the end of a dive I can hear waves crashing above me.
And when I feel my cheeks get wet I know I smile and water is coming in my mask. I clear my mask and feel warm air on my face again.
Part of me never wants a dive to end, but the water is steadily taking my body heat away. HB, my buddy signals, our time is up and up we go. Warm in the Egyptian sun for a minute, then rest in the shade. Drink a mango lassie or a cup of Bedouin tea. And dream about our next dive....

Stupid steps

Last time with BambiEyes we discussed saying goodbye to our genetic child. I wanted to blog about that, but I almost choked with sadness.
Then HB's father died and we went to the funeral.
Now Fof had another appointment, her CD3 scan, and it yielded only 7 follicles, which is not great. In two weeks her other test results will come back and we think the doctor may have an idea if she would be a possible donor for me, fertility-wise.
I'm going on a diving trip to Egypt and pretend for a week that none of this makes me sad beyond words.

Holding hands

This is me, holding my nephew.

The visit was OK. We went for walks with just my brother, Dutch was spoken indeed, ice cream was bought... There were mildly uncomfortable parts (why send the nanny away to the playground with the older nephew and keep us in the reception room?) but the parts with the whole family in same reception room was relaxing, seeing my brother be the father of his new family, his wife letting the baby sleep on her chest. My mother was holding little grandson as well. DP didn't really get a chance, and said he didn't really want to either. I guess he was done jumping through hoops (disinfecting hand gel is not his thing)
I bought two gifts, two identical very fashionable long sleeve polo shirts, one in baby the other in toddler size. I've asked my brother to take a picture if they ever get the chance to wear it at the same time.

Holding such a small person is magic, I'm trying to just remember that. I don't want to feel anything else...(but hey, tears again)
Back to holding hands with DP again.

When to visit a newborn

On May 1st I sent my brother a text message saying we could come visit his newborn son that same week if that would suit them. He called me back saying he was very happy I wanted to come so soon, but explaining that would be around the day they would come out of hospital and therefore not yet settled, so maybe another time.
As long as I heard his voice I was full of understanding, but as soon as we put the phone down I started to feel so sad and dejected.

Newborn-baby-sculpture-outside-St-Martins-in-the-Field-Church-London

May 6, I saw BambiEyes again. We talked about how this didn't mean it had to be as difficult as with his firstborn when it took me a year to go visit. How this time DP would be with me. That I could steer a middle course.
It appeared I deal slowly with rejection.... I think I watched almost 100 episodes of Grey's Anatomy.[trying to let go of the thought 'if he doesn't want me now I'm never going to visit'] This week my mother on the phone complaining how hard it was to find a date to visit my brother, how he wasn't available next weekend etc. etc. their agenda .. bla bla .. his schedule ... (Mam talks a lot)
So I sent this lame email to my brother with a list of dates including this weekend when DP and I could come visit. Next thing I know my father is on the phone saying how great it is we can all go together this Saturday! Oh well, now my brother asks all of us to come at the same time. It will both be easier and harder. My parents are desperate to hold their grandson, they will be all smiles and happiness. I'm afraid to feel like a failure for not having given them grandchildren. To feel excluded.
I'm also scared for all the unwritten rules.
It's always weird to visit with my SIL present. I mean, since she doesn't speak Dutch we all speak English. It is truly strange to speak with my parents in a foreign language, and it breaks my mother's heart to have to speak English to her son. I know, we are visiting their house and English is not her native language either and everyone is just being polite. It is just a pity that it is literally such a foreign affair to visit my brother. On the phone it still feels like my brother, but over there I just don't feel part of the family. I bet it is not easy for him either.

Big day in London...

because my nephew was born!!!!!
millions of people came to London, but not many got to see him. Thankfully there was enough going on elsewhere in the city ;-)

My brother was sooo happy on the phone that I had a big grin on my face. Since my nephew was a little earlier than expected (only a week) it happened that my brother and his wife had not yet made the final decision on his name. They are both last minute people, I know, but still I'm a little surprised. They have two names he said. I didn't dare reply that they could just give both names, I guess naming your child is very very personal. (Unless your culture, religion or family has rules or methods for naming. I'm named after both grandmothers and a city. My brother is named after my fathers father who had three given names, and confuses the hell out of everyone because we call him by the third of those names. )

An hour later I burst into BambiEyes office telling her about it, with the same grin. And I'm thinking that maybe, since we have a holiday here this week with DP and the boys we could all go to London. See if any royalty rubbed of on the little one. (I wouldn't be surprised if he is dressed in cashmere already)
She said to try to remember how I felt on the phone. Big Grin.

Then of course I told her about my AMH. She suggested that now that it is final, DP and I could think of a way of saying goodbye to our biological child. Going out for dinner sounds weird, but I was thinking of a Thai festival, Loi Krathong, where people float the little bananaleaf/flower/candle boats.

Letting go of bad sad things and making wishes for the new year. She said it was a very good idea, why not go to Thailand, it would suit me. Wow. Yes it would suit me, but not DP. Maybe for us together flying a kite would fit better. Of course when we were talking about this I had tears escaping...

You know that sometimes when you drink a cup of hot tea you get hot suddenly? or when you get emotional? or... when they could be hot flashes? It's not very dramatic, but it is definitely at the back of my mind, and I told her.
Then after some more happy and sad moments BambiEyes suggested that my hormones might contribute to my moodswings too.
Gosh, in English it sounds worse. in Dutch it is more change of atmosphere, like a little cloud floats by, while moodswings sounds only two steps away from axe murderer. Anyway, what does sounds better in English is the birth control pill, where Dutch has anti conception pill. Since in the run up to DE I'll have to go on the pill anyway I might start sooner rather than later.
It would be great if that would help with emotional stability.

AMH 0

They called, and my AMH is zero. 0.
no more eggs, no more false hope.

And you know? It is ok. No difficult choices. No agonising about small chances, no maybes. No more what-ifs. All the grief and pain from the last years were not for nothing, but got me where I am now: I'm ready to start the most remarkable adventure of my life.

For some of my younger readers (geez that makes me feel old) I know you are out there. Twentysomething, just married, just had your diagnosis a couple months ago... It was not easy. I didn't write the posts about The ANGER. About how many times I almost packed my things to leave. About all the times I almost left my DP. The Denial, the Depression. I think I shared my tears here. But how often does one write about waking up in the middle of the night and not knowing what to do?
I'm not big on the 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger'. I think DP and I have our scars, our differences, but that's ok, that's the way it is now. I wish our lives could have been easier, with less Pain and Grief.

But now, first, more steps on the DE road. On the waiting list for the clinic psych, who started work again. Slowly.

Small steps. Big Journey.

Story from down under

My friend from down under sent me an email and I want to share the following story with you:

My brother was told he was unlikely to ever have kids - he and his wife tried for ages.  They went to a psychic, who told them that she saw them with twins around September 2009 - they were shattered when my other brother announced they were to have another baby - not just one, but twins! Yes, due in September 2009.........  They went to IVF and it finally worked!  Their son turns 1 on the first of May this year, but surprising everyone is that baby number two is due in September!  You just never know what's around the corner....

She can be a bit of the 'just relax' type of person who obviously means well:

I do think of you quite often, and wonder how you are travelling. I don't want to ask about the baby plans, and stress you out. Perhaps you just need to accept whatever comes. :)

I haven't told her about my plans yet, I think this time around I will tell most people after the fact anyway..

Waiting

Two more weeks before the result of the AMH blood test. Three weeks of waiting in total. I know that with not having a job at this moment it is harder to structure my day. It is harder to get out of bed. It is harder to find people to talk to. I find myself sitting in my house, waiting. worrying. DP tells me this test is only good news: either we get to try our luck with DE, or we get to have another go with my own eggs. I'm of course worried that my AMH comes back lousy, but not lousy enough. But still dooming own IVF.

A lead for a contract in Scotland came by in the email. And my very first thought was 'I can't go, I have to wait. Wait for the test. Wait how this plays out.' While a job in Scotland may or may not be a good idea, I'm slightly worried that I skip the basic question of 'Do I Want to go?'. Maybe I'm unconsciously protecting myself from disappointment: If I don't apply I will not be rejected....

HB isn't doing well. In the winter months we could lean on each other. But now, with his father dying, my worries are so futile in comparison. It is as if the gap between me doing better and him doing worse is too big most of the time. It hurts to see him struggle. To be powerless and helpless. And I worry...

Back to waiting I think. And carefully selecting one item from my to do list.

Intake

The clinic was a nice facility and people were friendly. DP and I spoke with a gentle lady Dr who asked the expected questions of how we got there, general health and fertility treatment history. She asked me if I remembered my FSH values and I told her 19, 23 and 9 of the top of my head. (I checked, I should have said 19, 32, 9 and 14, oh well) She did ask if I had my AMH tested, no, so she wanted that number first, as of last year it is supposed to be the better indicator if there are any eggs left. If my value comes back < 0.3 she would agree that DE is the way forward.

She then asked if I would be OK to receive bad news over the phone or that I would prefer to come in.
At that moment I realised that a low AMH reading would be ok with me, that it would be more upsetting if it came back high, because that would indicate I should have tried harder for IVF in 2009/2010 because I still have a slim chance. I guess this means a big part of me is ready to have double digit chances of trying rather than grasping at straws.
So I'm expecting a phone call in three weeks, to let me know my AMH and the recommendation of the Dr panel meeting.

The other thing that the clinic wants us to do is meet with their psychologist. The only problem is that she has been ill and is not yet back to work full time. So we're at the bottom of a waiting list and no one knows how fast she will get better. While I do understand, I'm not too happy of waiting again for a psychologist who was ill for 6 months, just a liiiiittle too familiar. I have requested that the Dr panel will consider an evaluation by BambiEyes. While she could not promise she said she will ask.
Pffffffff! I think that was it for today.

Intake appointment

Sunday evening I met up with Fof again. She and her partner had gone through the brochures and had not seen anything that made them change their mind. The only questions left are medical (like what contraindications are there for hormonal stimulation for her), so she and I concluded the time has come to see a doctor.

Wow.

When I told DP he started reading the library book on DE. That in itself counts as another step!
This morning I called the clinic and the first appointment available for an intake is this Wednesday. 8:30 AM.

WOOW

So soon...! And DP was totally unfazed, just said he would have to adjust his work schedule somewhat. It is lovely to see how he is both more comfortable and more involved when it comes to agendas and to do lists. Prepare meeting with doctor? He's got his target and he will meet it.
(I suppose no engineer would enter an emotional quicksand swamp without a map... So, while sometimes it feels very lonely struggling on my own, it is good to know he is waiting for me to join him on the happy side of life. Or on the road to get there!)

Farewell Knut

It was four years ago that baby polar bear Knut was the most famous baby on the planet. We went to Berlin then and took the very first steps on our TTC journey. That very first two week wait was filled with dreams and talk of our own little knut. So small and white, so fluffy, so adorable.

It came as a shock that Knut is no more.

It made me realise that our innocent dreams are gone as well. That sweet romantic dream of going on a holiday and falling pregnant, that special fairy tale to tell your child of its conception... all gone.
The year of TTC at home. The year of diagnosis, miscarriage and ART treatment. The hope of a baby that would look just like me... past without a trace. How could it be 4 years?
While searching youtube for news of Knut I also discovered that his keeper had died before him, at the age of 44. So sad.
Farewell gentle zoo keeper
Farewell Knut
Farewell innocent dreams.
I'll miss you.

Another one

Remember that 12 days ago I was sort of dreading that maybe my friend An might be pregnant? I picked the wrong woman... DP just got off the phone with his brother, who told him their IUI two months ago was successful. I made all the right noises. Now DP and I both have brothers with pregnant wives.
And I feel cheated.
Again.

HB left the office to be with his father in the hospital. Every time there is news it seems to be worse. It is one of those 'why do bad things happen to good people'. I want to be angry with the universe or something.

Oh, the original plan for this evening was to bake lemon poppyseed muffins, as tomorrow is the last day of my contract. Oh well, it will be store bought muffins then...

Update: couldn't sleep much, so made muffins at 6am. There is something soothing about grating lemon zest before sunrise.

Two more steps

On Friday was my long awaited appointment with BambiEyes. I was glad to be back. Could proudly tell her how much progress I had made. Thinking back how difficult I found December and January, tears were quick to come. She said I will have to say goodbye, certain things/emotions/people/dreams belong in the past now and I cannot keep carrying luggage around forever. She also warned me that while helping HB is a nice thing to do I have to find the fine line between helping as a friend and trying to rescue him. I'm not a professional. I know. And I wasn't planning on any kind of rescue, I'm trying to be there, as I think a friend would. Am I going too far if DP and I go there at least twice a month and cook some meals?
For me I feel safer to feel sad when there is someone to make me a cup of tea, someone who understands. Since HB is that friend to me I want to be that friend to him too.

Anyway.
Sunday was a lovely sunny day, start of 'summertime' as we say and I met Friend-of-friend in the park to speak about DE. I brought three brochures on different aspects of donating eggs. One was in normal language explaining different aspects of DE, one was a chapter from the national "law on embryos" and the last was from the national donor registration. We spoke for over an hour and I'm starting to believe she is the most perfect known donor imaginable. She feels that her eggs are cells, special cells yes, but not 'half-babies'. That any DE baby would be my baby. That I would understand that as soon as I was pregnant, that I would be the one growing that baby and that therefore I would be the mother. That she would be there for me if I needed that but not if not. That it would be up to me and my family to work out if and how we wanted contact.  At her workplace the subject had come up, and someone had asked her if she wasn't worried about me raising the kid(s) in a way she would not approve of, she said that 1 it would be my business and 2 she trusts me 100%.
She feels I shouldn't worry about how I can thank her enough, because it is her independent decision to help and thus I do not owe her. (?) I'm not entirely sure if I follow her reasoning here and/or report it correctly.


I've been trying to compare it to my own experience of donating blood. I always drink the free cups of tea and take a cookie. Would I feel 'pressured' if I received extra gifts? I think I would like flowers.... I can see the point of making it illegal to pay someone to donate (remember that commercialism and healthcare do not go together in this country) but being grateful?

If the clinic in the other city would be where we decide to go we could use her car (DP and I don't have one) but I should drive (Fof does not have a drivers license) and I can pay for petrol ;-)
She will have a look at the material I gave her, and we agreed to meet again next Sunday, same time, same park, different coffee. (I was proud of myself suggesting we pick a date, so I don't have to worry about how and when to contact her, not another waiting game) She hopes that if everything looks good we can get this show on the road somewhere after the beginning of June. With her and my job it makes sense and her daughters are still in school during June and July. But my God. June is hardly 2 months away!
My birthday is in June. I better get used to being 38 before I turn 39.

While it was a pleasant conversation I was very emotional during the Sunday afternoon concert of our mutual friend (it was after her previous concert that we all sat in a cafe and Fof first offered to donate eggs). Hardly slept a wink last two nights. Chances this will work are somewhere between 10 and 50%. I refuse to consider the 50 to 90%, that is just too scary right now. I need to keep my act together. Can the knot in my stomach please untie itself now?

Announcements and cards

Tuesday I got a card from my neighbour, thanking me for the hurray balloons. That she understood it wouldn't be easy for me, so a special thank you.... It was a lovely card and almost made me cry. I'm lucky to have a neighbour who understands.

Wednesday I had a lunch date with a colleague from my previous company, I hadn't seen him for ages. He picked me up in a new car. Me: hey, you've got a new car, it is a lot bigger than your previous one! Him: Well, it needs to be bigger, we will need to fit another baby seat in the back soon. Me: Wow, a third child? Congratulations, when is the baby due? Him: Next month.
Pfffff. He knows about my IF, but, well. Never mind.
(Gosh, do I have to suspect people of third babies now?)

When I got home there was an envelope with a handwritten address on it, so I knew immediately it was something personal. It was my childhood neighbour girl who I knew was struggling with IF treatments for more than a year, maybe even more than two years. We had talked about it in depth once, but somehow we didn't really keep in touch. In her letter she very candidly explained she had been nervous about her IVF in January this year, hadn't wanted to talk about it then, and that it had been successful. That she understood it might be difficult for me and therefore had wanted to let me know this way.
I'm so happy for her, and so very grateful she send a card to let me know. It is almost that because I didn't have to react and make sure I was happy for her, I could.
I am happy to know that IF treatments help people get pregnant.  After telling DP I suddenly got worried, counting the weeks, and realising that mid Jan to mid Mar is only 2 months, not yet third trimester... Figment came to mind and I started to get sad and overwhelmed.
Went to bed early before it had a chance to be too much for one day.
Thursday seemed ok. Nothing like watching TV as denial therapy
This morning I was so tired that just the thought of step-kid-weekend brought tears to my eyes. Made a phone call to HB to see if he was ok, but he had bad news from his family and hadn't slept much either.
I guess it is getting a bit much after all...

On Sunday I'll meet up with my friend An (we're friends since school and uni and we don't meet often enough at all), and I'm almost dreading that she might be pregnant as well. And equally dreading she might still not be, I think she has been trying for a second child for two years now. I feel awful for even thinking this.
Hopefully the weekend will be much better than what I'm afraid of now. Hopefully all I need is a good night sleep.

Surprise party for DP

It was his own idea really. I mean, he started it. He took his brother to an unknown destination for an unknown activity three years ago. And ever since they have been out on mystery events for their birthdays: blow carting on the beach, U2 concert, professional cooking workshop, that kind of surprise. This year his brother had asked for my help and involvement, because he wanted to include partners and have a snow-filled afternoon of fun (since DP had never skied before) So it was my job to take care of our agenda and bring snow gear, without DP knowing. And I had to get him in the train to another city, while his brother would take care of further transport and the reservations.
Coincidence would have it that HB lives in that city, and was in on the plot. We met for coffee in the coolest little shop. DP had sooo not suspected anything that even when his brother and partner walked in and joined us he still took a while to realise he was in for a surprise party. His first reaction? He was not happy about it, he was upset with me for keeping him in the dark. Thankfully on the way over to the ski area he warmed up to the idea and we had a good afternoon. But it made me realise two things: -it is hard to keep a secret from someone I love when it affects them directly and- at the moment the surprise is revealed it shows that I the secretkeeper am not worthy of trust...
Adding to the perspective: DPs birthday was on Wednesday, the surprise on Sunday, he could have known, could have suspected and the surprise was totally harmless.
Now make the small leap to DE and telling our baby about it.
I was always of the opinion that I would not want DE a secret, now I know for sure.

referral letter for DE

My GP was really happy about my request for a referral for DE, she said lots of positive things. I'm afraid I've forgotten most of them though. She asked me lots of questions to verify I meet all the criteria. A weird language thing is that in Dutch the medical way of asking how long you have been TTC is 'how long have you had your child wish'. Part of me wants to blurt out that I have always known I wanted children, but I stuck to the facts. TTC more than x years: check. POF confirmed: check. Partner: check. Possible donor: check. She agreed with me that the waiting lists of the big local hospital are quite long and told me that she had had several patients who were really happy with the other clinic that was mentioned. This other clinic has the eerie name of Medical Center Child Wish. Makes me cringe.
TTC clinic? Wish-a-baby clinic? Make-a-baby clinic?  Make-a-wish clinic? Feel free to cast your vote.

Since I'd taken the day of work anyway I thought I might as well call the clinic after I got home. They even answered the phone, were friendly and explained I could make an appointment in about three weeks for me and DP. I would also need Fof to call them and make an appointment separately. I concluded that it would be wise to talk to Fof first and find out how far she would be willing to travel, since this clinic is a half hour drive away. (or 80 minutes with public transport)

Conversations with DP are a lot easier and smoother now. He does come up with questions about the process, about medication, about Fof. And even asked if he could tell his family. (if they ask- yes, if this is really happening- yes, otherwise- not just yet. As for the boys- we agreed not to tell them about a baby till I start to show. And about DE I want to stick to a kiddy version of it : an egg from the hospital)  

So...I have my letter. The juggling of contact, information, appointments and waiting has really started.
I feel nervous and vulnerable, but in a happy sort of way. All I need now is the right mix of patience, wisdom and pro-activity in getting Fof involved for real.

Neighbour baby

Narrow streets, open curtains, from sitting at my kitchen table I look into the living room of my neighbours across the street. And this morning I noticed they were both home and a soft blanket was thrown on the sofa. An unknown younger woman (nurse?) bends over and when she comes back up she holds a newborn baby in her arms. So tiny.... !

I decided to put up the balloons that say "Hurray" behind our kitchen window. And I noticed my hands are shaking. I don't want to cry but I can feel the tears coming. I should leave now for the GP anyway, even if that makes me 1 hour early....

Some small steps warm my heart

FoF just sent me this email:
(Sorry if the translation is wonky! The original was more fluent)

Hello Valery,

how are you?

I really liked your visit and had wanted to email you straight away, but the flu stopped me(...)

Of course we don't know each other very well, but I think you are a very nice woman and I'd like to help you to be as happy as possible. A coffee in the park seems a good idea to discuss a few things.

Warm Regards, FoF

It makes me feel like spring is in the air....
I printed the email, showed it to DP and HB during lunchbreak and I keep it in my pocket. And whenever I touch it I smile on the inside.
Hopefully we can meet up this weekend or even tomorrow, but she hasn't replied yet.
(And of course it is hard to stop myself from checking my email every 5 minutes now :)

Some small steps taken

Some things have taken an awfully long time.

 My laptop broke down in October. To find out if it could be repaired should have taken only two weeks, but it took more than 3 months before I had it back. Together with HB (who knows a bit about these things and found the manual) I took it apart to recover the hard disk. Thank goodness my data was not lost. But the rest doesn't seem salvageable.

Mhm, it may not sound so relevant, but it was one of those classic 'we'll call you back in two weeks, just wait and it will be alright' scenarios. Grinding on my patience and resilience. It should not have been this hard.
I have a new laptop now, a biscotti. And am comfortable blogging again!

So, what else happened in the past couple of weeks while I was thinking-but-not-blogging?

I sent an email to the hospital where I had my attempt at IVF two years ago, all nice doctors, asking how I should go about IVF with a donor. They came back to me saying they don't do DE-IVF, not even if I bring a donor.... and referred me to either the big academic hospital or some other clinic.
One step forward, one step back.
I googled the big hospital, nice website so it took me about 7 seconds to find out that 'after diagnosis is complete, the waiting list for IVF is 12 months'
Cue panic and tears. Two steps back! HB calmed me down, saying I could be proud of myself for taking the first small step, contacting my first hospital.
Next Steps are next steps. And finding a hospital or clinic is one of them.
What else? yes, I have an appointment with my GP on Friday, to ask her what she knows about DE-IVF and write a referral letter for me. (Having an appointment counts as a step, right?)
Oh and I finally have an appointment with BambiEyes again! She fell ill in October (just wait two weeks), quit her job at the end of last year (just wait two weeks), found a new place (just wait two weeks), had to find out about her training there (just wait two weeks. Grinding on my patience and resilience. It should not have been this hard! where did I write that before?!) and actually offered me 7 appointments, starting end of March, almost every Friday till she gets married in June.
I'll ask her if she can do the required psychological screening for a dutch DE-IVF. (Does this count as 7 steps?)

And the most important one? I reconnected with FoF, I popped by her place one Monday evening, we had a spontaneous chat and her offer to be an egg donor for me still stands! She welcomed the idea of meeting again for a coffee with me bringing information about it! Of course I hardly slept, and the next day at work I got no work done, but I have the brochures sorted I think.

DP read the brochures as well, and we have been talking about different aspects that we will need to agree on with the donor and her partner. DP does not yet have much of an opinion, but at least the subjects are in the back of his mind. And since we probably need to compromise with 4 adults in total it is probably easiest not to have strong opinions anyway.

Yes, I'm still scared of everything that can and will go wrong. But as Twangy said "we can't let fear be the thing that stops us". My safety net is in place, if I were to fall apart I know DP is not giving up on me (imperturbable martian), and BambiEyes and HB will help sort the pieces.

I'm also thinking about researching DE-IVF abroad. Thinking I can always pull out from a waiting list if I don't want to do it....Thank you Sweet G for your elaborate write up about your experience. Maybe it is not so hard after all to find a donor who is not completely anonymous, if you even saw pictures....

I guess most of these steps have not gone past the email stage, nothing really happened that cannot be reversed, but that will likely stay that way till the actual beginning of taking medication....
It feels though as if the journey has started.

Thank you for your comments

Thank you for all your comments on my previous post, they really helped me to get away from the place where I'd gotten stuck.

The first few days were hard. Trying to imagine getting pregnant aux naturel was so hard, at first I couldn't do it (I took two years talking myself out of that one!), it was making me so sad, finding it so unfair again. Soon after our little winter break was coming up. HB warned me to not try and discuss DE but just go and have a vacation. So we did.

DP and I went away for a few days winter sports in Sweden. It was so pretty in the snow. We went to the same place where we had our first holiday together (summer 2005) and, for those few days, we left our worries behind. Just being together. It felt good to be together. Normal. OK. No difficult conversations, no withdrawing from each other. This was a place where we had been happy before and suddenly it was easy to reconnect.
I wasn't secretly wishing things were different, I wasn't secretly disappointed (unlike our October trip to Jordan) Apparently I could not 'order' magic as a part of a holiday back then, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen now.

So, much relieved.
I can now say again that I know and believe that DP and I are OK together. That it is infertility that is making me (and us) miserable. And that I better start doing something about that.