Bag

Two years ago a gave DP a bicycle-office bag for Sinterklaas. It is a sturdy office bag with three hooks on the back to hook it to his bike. The middle hook has a locking mechanism so the bag (often holding his laptop) cannot be snatched off easily. Two weeks ago the middle hook got crooked and fell apart. Now it's just the two hooks, working fine, just not as safe.
This morning as he was leaving for work I offered to go shopping for a new bag, asking if he wanted the same thing or that I could look for something different. His reply:

First I have to deal with the grief and sadness, and saying farewell to this bag before I can think about moving on.

I'm not even sure it was meant jokingly.
This was more or less the lesson we took from our counselling session together.

Last Sunday we went to the library and at some point I asked if we should get some books on adoption. (Is it unfair of me to test the water that way?) We have not really spoken about adoption or other next steps. The only suggestion for a book he gave was something on getting happy again after being sad.

Maybe these are both subtle hints that it might be time to pick up my life?

February is the sixth month of me not having a job. Other people might phrase that as half a year. Makes it seem so long. Maybe I should peek outside my cocoon and start looking or a job. Maybe admit to myself that relaxing all these months didn't make any difference whatsoever. Babywise I mean. Is it weird to feel like I'm betraying myself by looking for a job? I don't have to pretend that nothing happened. Because nothing happened. I'm not making sense anymore, am I. Sorry.
Maybe getting a job means admitting I can't have a baby and that I'm over it. That I'm ok with it. But I'm not.
Mhmm, maybe I could get a job while I'm still sad. Maybe being sad can be my evening job. Maybe during the day a could be like my former self, that persnickety pestering tester lady. (thank you May) Maybe I could work with a sad smile instead of my cute smile.

Yesterday a bloggy friend of mine called. She told me her story and asked if I would put that online for her, because she couldn't. I was happy I could do something for her, that she trusted me enough to ask. While I was typing I suddenly felt like a fraud. Infertile me typing a story about contractions and cervix checks . I had to look up what a cervix was, but wiki didn't really explain why it getting shorter was a problem. And I wasn't going to google it.
Strange sensations of not belonging....

Time for fresh air and blue sky now....

downs

When I wrote the post named ups I meant to name the next post downs. My reasoning was that if I write down how bad the bad days are now, that in a while I can see that the bad days aren't so bad anymore.
Or, that if I let it out it will not seem so bad. But I'm feeling very reluctant about it. Part of me is saying drama queen, stop it! Other part says if you write it down it will become more real, and it's bad enough as it is. Now kick yourself, pick yourself up and go do something. Here's your to-do list.....(and that list goes on. and on.) O well, I'll give it a go.

On January 8 I emailed my counsellor BambiEyes to make my next appointment. After a few minutes I received an autoreply, stating that she no longer worked for the hospital, someone else blah blah.... NOOooo! Did I finally pick up my courage and then this! Since last summer I've spend 5 hours with her from the 10 she initially planned, I didn't want to start over with someone else. So I googled her, and found her at another clinic in another city and emailed her straight away. After that I let myself collapse in tears for the afternoon. I put a woolly hat on my head, as if to soften the blow. It is a strange sensation holding myself or my head, softly rocking back and forth. It is weird being so sad and at the same time being aware of it. Being aware of the discrepancy between a minor, solvable set back and the flood of tears. So much easier to cry over something simple, unfair and unexpected than over my non-baby, unfair but hardly unexpected anymore.
(The next Monday BambiEyes emailed back, she is happy to continue with me. Some paperwork, 2 phone calls and 5 emails later I now have an appointment for February 11th.)

Can't believe how hard this was to write. In my head are metaphors of scars and grief that want to be told. Stories of the beginning of meeting DP. Thoughts about travelling. About life with step kids and how alone it makes me feel. About how maybe they are some kind of gift to my life. About thinking of staying with DP, surviving this together. About leaving everything behind, moving to South Africa and start with a clean slate (and a SA donor egg program). About putting up some of my test results so other people with POF can compare notes, as there are not many blogs with POF. About other possible remedies popping out of the internet and how that makes me feel. Or how the ice melting makes me feel, compared to last year. Or that it might start freezing again. It is too much, I cannot concentrate anymore. I'm defeated for today.

ups

The Netherlands are frozen over. This is good news for ice skating people. And it is snowed over. This is not good news, as this is making the skating difficult and the ice unpredictable. But with effort and brooms and swishy machines the snow can be put to the side to make a path for skating.
The entire country is engulfed in this sub-zero fever, and I'm joining. It is good for the soul I believe. On skates you get to go places you otherwise don't. You go as fast as if you're running, but with half the effort and a fraction of the noise. Today I did an official tour, with thousands of other enthusiasts. The line of people meandering over that frozen plane, almost as if we are a giant snake, part of something bigger.
Sometimes working your way against the wind (oy you eastern wind, was it really that cold in Russia?) sometimes wind in the back, making you feel you are almost flying, hardly touching the ice.
The sounds of the ice itself varies. Sometimes it howls like a seal, or a clucks like a bottle filling. Or it can creak and moan. Or be very very silent. Sometimes the only noise is a bit of snow whispering under my skate.
Yesterday my best friend managed again to take time off work, we jumped in his car and rode to some tiny village. As soon as we saw an unusual line of cars parked we knew we were close, parked and jumped out.
When there is not that many people on the ice it is easier to feel the magic. Exploring some smaller waterways running of the main lake, a last swan lost in a white field.
At the end of skating there is always hot chocolate milk. Yesterday it was provided in the tiny village.
Today I worked out how the coffee machine steam wand at home worked, and made hot chocolate with more than maximum froth, I think the milk to froth ratio was 2:3. Heaven! (on the second floor)
Tomorrow the ice should still be good, and DP and I will go together for the afternoon.
Despair is only allowed back when thaw sets in.

more snow, more tears

Today was the meeting with the doctor after the monitored cycle. Not quite sure what cause and effect was in that cycle, but progesterone was too low and cycle too short. This cycle is even shorter. Although one could argue that 17 days doesn't really count as a cycle. I think that was the message the good doctor was trying to get across. Diminished egg reserve, cycles failing, success percentages plummeting, hormones giving up, high FSH, all part of this same package. And it will gradually get worse. Skipping cycles is going to be fun. Or unexpected heavy bleeding for weeks on end. (I still think 4 days of bleeding is a design flaw. I rather donate my blood than let it go to waste.) But all in all it is going to be an unpredictable process, could be years, or this could be my last period. If I don't want to deal with that I can go back on the pill. what???? Well, obviously after I have accepted I will not have a genetic child. Upon reading my incredulous face he adds that we were miles away from that stage. That I should probably contact my counsellor again.
I did manage to pipe up the words egg donation. Yes, fits my diagnosis. But since commercial egg donation is prohibited in my dear Netherlands very hard to accomplish. Plus it is not a replacement for a genetic child. I should not forget the grieving process of my not existing child.
It just seems I'm stuck in the denial phase of that process. I don't want it to be true. I just want a miracle baby. I want it to be 2001 rather than 2010. What is the point of moving forward in time if there is no future?

My mother told me that when I was little and we came past the baby store I always wanted to go in and push the strollers around.

This afternoon she took me shopping, and bought me a cashmere cable sweater. baby blue. I might just unpack it and snuggle up with it on the sofa. that sweater better be tear-proof.

Gosh, after the appointment this morning DP and I sat down in the cafeteria for tea and a cookie. He said he can't wrap his head around egg donation. It would be another woman's child.
Would he not notice there are another woman's children in our lives already?
sorry, that's mean of me to say.

I will give it some time, I will make an appointment with BambiEyes, I must find a way to explain to DP what this all means to me. But the thought that I'm out of here if he doesn't change his mind was quicker.

Happy New Year (?)

At the end of 2008 there was my miscarriage. Early 2009 was the IVF that failed into IUI and failed altogether. Weeks ago was the monitored cycle where ovulation failed. The trend I'm seeing is failure occurring earlier and earlier. Makes me afraid of 2010. What is the next thing that will fail? first sex, then relationship? I know I haven't been talking much about my relationship. Even realising this is sort of anonymous, knowing that I'm not alone with fear and anger, Oh sigh, I don't even know where to start, it seems so hard.

On the other hand, it seems we have all survived the xmas hurdle. Maybe we are stronger than we think. Maybe it is ok to have faith in highly unlikely miracles occurring. Maybe depression isn't so bad.

Maybe an evening with games and New Years Eve food plus some special cheeses with crackers will just carry me through the year. DP seems extra cuddly these days and apparently the world will not stop spinning. And who knows, maybe wishing you all a Happy New Year will make it come true!

From Amsterdam with Love...

(and carefull with the fireworks, please?! I'd like you to keep your fingers and eyes, for typing and reading and such)

Snow

Sunday afternoon some fresh snow was falling. DP and I went outside to the little playground and joined the kids from 4 houses down in making a snowman. It was quite fun playing in the snow, talking to the little ones (boy 4 and girl 3) and rolling small snowballs, stacking them etc. At some stage a neighbour mother from 5 houses down came outside, noticed us playing and said

"But you don't have kids?!"

I don't know, I want to believe she meant well. That it just came out wrong. She doesn't know about our infertility. She does know DP has kids. Maybe she doesn't understand the every other weekend part of that. Maybe she meant to ask if his boys would come outside so she could ask her kids as well?
I don't want to believe she meant that childless adults can not enjoy snow, that I had no right to be there. At the time I was too busy to think about it, but two days later it is nagging me.



We went for a walk in the park and saw plenty of evidence of people enjoying the snow. Most likely people from all ages and persuasions, if their snow art is any clue. How do you like this one? (I hope you can tell from the picture, it was getting dark)

... and gone

Progesterone down to 4 on CD19. The only day that would be a good value in a normal cycle would be 27 or 28 (on wiki), so I'm assuming this will be a very short cycle for me.(See, got my Dr Google degree) Big pimple on my chin would agree. Never knew they would last longer than my teenage years. Gosh, they lasted longer than my eggs...
On the phone the nurse said I could schedule an appointment 6 - 8 weeks from now. But, I already have one early January, does the doctor want me to reschedule? That seemed as silly to her as it did to me, so we left it at that.
I guess the number hasn't changed my mood. I'm not so sure how an appointment is going to make a difference anymore.

This morning I found Late For A Very Important Pregnancy
So many similarities it's quite shocking. How many childless stepmoms late thirties with high FSH would you think you'd find? especially admitting that 'he' doesn't always get it... I dived in the blog, but had to stop reading since every post made me cry. And it will be some hours before DP gets home to cuddle me.

Yesterday it snowed in Amsterdam, the city is turned into a slippery xmas carol. I'll go outside and try soak up the atmosphere, who knows if it lifts my spirits.

slivers getting smaller

The result of the progesterone was 14. Which is too low for luteal phase. CD16. The meaning 'anovulatory' would be the obvious one. Or 'too early', come back Friday the other option. I'm staring at this chart trying to wriggle my way out of the obvious. With my cycle around 24 days 'too early' is just not very likely. Too late, maybe.
And there I was, thinking it all looked so promising...

slivers of hope

Ohhhh, the games I play during the 2ww... This time I felt like picking out names for the two follicles. I even asked DP for suggestions. He looked at me like it was a stupid idea. He said he'd like to see before he believes, and there is nothing to see just yet. (I know)(but it hurts a little when he says things like this)

Yesterday, after bringing his boys back to their other parent, we went out trying to spot some falling stars from Phaetons passing. We managed to see quite a few stars, some planes flying but nothing falling. After getting really cold we found a pub with special winter beer for him and hot chocolate for me. He was saying how much he had enjoyed playing soccer on the playground with the kids this afternoon. And how he would be 49 by the time this baby would be 10 years old.

?!!!!?

He's 38 now, so it was more than just slapping 10 years on top (his oldest is 10), he even calculated some months for pregnancy... I couldn't believe my ears.
I know his brain works different from mine, I know that we don't always have the same feelings at the same time and that he doesn't find it easy (or necessary) to talk about those things. But. Sometimes it is the little things that make a difference. That makes me feel he cares. you hear that, little cells? little bits making the difference? that your father will love you? will play soccer with you? yes, girls can play soccer too!

I can feel some tension down below. Most likely just that, tension. Tomorrow we'll know if it is also progesterone doing its job. No buying of xmas pee sticks before then...

a few hours

O wow. This morning (CD8) was the first scan for the attempt at cycle monitoring. Lining ok at 10mm, left a follicle 18mm and right a follicle 18mm. WHAT? TWO?! but but but in July you were telling me I wasn't ovulating anymore? And that I was running out of eggs?
Between 15h -16h I have to call for the result of the blood test, on the form it said to test for LH and Oestradiol.
I guess that creates an option for bad news, as does the Progesteron test for next week. But hey, for the next few hours I'm going to walk around with a smile on my face. For a few hours thinking of those two cells, giving me twice the chance for a dream, so that is easily 2% rather than 1% of enjoying christmas or surviving December the easy way.
pf, do I sound like an addict? Am I high on hope?
At least for a few hours...