My nest is emptying a little

I'm scared. There. I've said it. Scared may even be an understatement. Here's the backstory - I tried for almost 3 years to conceive my son. Eventually, I did so, and he is my precious firstborn. He's now 9, and in grade 3, time is flying by at a pace I cannot keep up with. We started trying for a second child when he was just 6 months old, knowing how long it had taken to get him, and aware the same challenge may present itself. In fact, it was worse. It took five long, pain filled years, rounds of clomid, of artificial inseminations, of giving up altogether, then of IVF and finally, finally, my beautiful daughter was conceived and came into this world. She is turning 4 next month. You know what that means, right?

It means next year she is off to kindergarten. 15 hours a week there, before beginning school in 2014. And I... I can hardly bear to think of it. That sounds dramatic, but you must understand how longed for my babies were. How much I have valued every second that slips past faster than I can grab onto it. How much I enjoy their company. When RJ was just two months old, my Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer. That first year of her life was a blur of chemo, surgeries, and fear. Not to mention the masters thesis that I had to write and submit. Mum is now three years cancer free, my masters is completed, and my baby girl is about to start leaving the nest.

I don't know how to prepare myself for this. Just thinking about it makes tears well up on my eyes and my heart pound. I know I am overreacting and I know I will adjust. God help me when they leave home. I am going back to school next year, so that will help me stay busy while she is gone. I have the Two Vegan Girls project to invest myself in. I just know I will feel like I am missing a limb when my little sidekick is no longer here beside me, permanently. It will be okay... right?? :(

Writerly write write

Two of five articles I have written for www.birth.com.au are currently up on their site. You can read about Trouble With Conception and Supporting Someone with Infertility. Three more will appear in time. I have had really lovely feedback from my editor there, but most importantly, I feel so good about this. When I was going through infertility, the thing that I always swore to do, was to increase awareness about infertility and it's attached emotional issues. I wanted to normalise and validate the experiences we all have. I feel like I am making good on my promise to myself now, and it makes me want to continue to do so, either with more articles, or perhaps at some point, even a book. I can do this, I am the best person to write this book, and it's so needed. This is only the beginning for me, and my work with infertility. I'm excited about it!

Happy 3rd Birthday, Rory-Jane.

Miss RJ!!!

How on earth did this happen?! How did you get to be 3?! Ah. You are freaking awesome, you know that? You are such a funny girl, you have everyone in hysterics all the time with your personality. You got mad at your Nan recently, so you approached her with your fists up ready to fight!!! She roared laughing which totally killed your cranky.

You love taking Finn to karate and copying the exercises and shouting "ICH NI SAN SHI GO" as though you are part of the class. You have to be 4 before you can start, a long wait for you no doubt. You do love dancing classes, and recently had your first concert where you danced on stage like a trooper and demanded "want to do again!" for days afterwards. You can be a princess, insisting I paint your toenails when I do mine, dressing up in flouncy dresses and playing with your dolls, and in the next moment you are wrestling Finn or your dad and playing in the dirt.

I often think about the years we spent trying to fall pregnant. I truly reached a point where I thought it'd never happen. It wasn't to be, and that was that. I love that I am stubborn enough to have kept at it until it worked. I am SO glad, words can't describe it. You were worth every second and more. You look soooo like the little girl in my dream when I was trying to fall pregnant, the little girl who told me not to give up trying for her. It's eerie.

You are a bit of a couch potato. Love your DVDs and boy do you love your food! You have taken to calling your favorite person of the moment your "best friend" and it's a title of honour. "Best friend, Mama" you say hugging me and I melt. "Best friend, Finn!" or "Best friend, Jeffrey" (to the cats horror usually!) You and Finn still adore one another and you call him 'Ma' (Mine) less and less, and Finn more and more.

The animals are your best mates, you throw yourself at them and you are quite happy to endure being scratched for a moment of love. You make me so happy. Even when you are a ratbag and god knows you test me in a way Finn never did. Far feistier, far more independent, far more determined. You are like me. And I don't care how much it might bug me as your parent, i LOVE that you have those qualities.

Oh my beewee girl... I adore you. I wohwoo. Always & Forever, Mama xxx

Those Special Moments

RJ was a ratbag yesterday. Wouldn't eat her lunch or dinner, 'no' was the word of the day... So when she asked to sleep in my bed last night, I wasn't jumping at it. Then again, I am a sucker, and I agreed. Let me tell you, there is nothing sweeter than having her fall asleep, her hand gripping my little finger tightly. I lay there in the dark, remembering all those negative pregnancy tests, all the invasive procedures, the humiliation of it all, the lack of dignity, every needle, every dollar, every disappointment over 5 long years. At the time, it was hell. Now, in the face of this sweet babe, it diminishes and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat for moments such as these. To say she was worth every moment is an obvious understatement.

When people ask my greatest achievement, the clear answer is my kids. But in all honesty, it's hard not to choose something that you obtain after such a rough, long, hard slog. When you put yourself out there for that humiliation and pain over and over, and you keep fighting and believing that someday, eventually, it will pay off. It's blind faith. It's sheer stubbornness. Determination. Those 5 years were agony. The 3 before F hard as well. But I did it. I got these two amazing angels who love me unconditionally. Who call me Mama with love. Who make my heart burst. Not everyone has a journey to parenthood as difficult as I did, I used to envy them. I don't anymore. Now I know that my journey has given me the most enormous appreciation and value for these kids. Every moment is cherished. Thats a gift that you can't put a price on.

Farewell Chapter

Last night, J and I decided what we wanted to do with our remaining frosty babe. When we had the IVF cycle for RJ, we had a lower grade embryo frozen at the same time. 3 years on this month from falling pregnant, we have made a decision on what to do with that embryo. Neither of us want more children, I know that I am done, but finalising that decision was surprisingly painful. I was not expecting that. This decision was what I knew it would be. So it surprised me that I felt sad. Closing a definite door on more children is a difficult decision for most women, I think. Infertile or otherwise.

I guess too, when you've lived in the infertility world for so many years, and fought a vicious battle to get the children you have, it seems terrifying to let a possibility go. I cannot bring myself to donate the embryo to another couple. It would be a full blooded sibling to my two, and I'd find that really difficult. In all honesty, I'd be surprised if it survives thaw anyway, let alone takes when transferred. I don't want to throw it away, though, either. J and I decided we would donate it to science. In this way, I feel I am still helping couples facing infertility. Still making a difference, albeit a tiny one.

No more babies. Deep down, I am okay with this, but it still caused some grief, I still cried last night. Today, I'll make the phone call and set it in motion. What a strange feeling it is. I'm so grateful to science for enabling me to have RJ, I hope this gives something back.

Don't have kids? Apparently, you're an idiot.

I recently saw many of my friends post the following article on their facebook page. I couldn't open it to even read it for a week or two. The title alone made me too angry.



Why? Because the title is already implying that people without children are stupid and do not know better, and that motherhood is an exclusive club.

Bull. Shit.

Smug crap. It still to this day, raises my hackles. Yes, I am a mother, but I never, ever ever forget, that some can't. Some struggle. Some don't need this kinda stuff thrown about as a joke. Some just don't WANT to. Sure, motherhood can be hard work, but do we need to imply anyone who doesn't give it due credit is a moron? We're not heroes. We're not martyrs. Motherhood is NOT an exclusive club, and people who do not have children are not stupid or worthy of the eyeroll implied in this article. Their opinions on topics involving children are just as valid as those with children. Please, don't make a huge mistake and forget that.

Creme de la Creme of 2009

The amazing Stirrup Queen has again compiled the awesome Creme de la Creme list for the year.

"So what is the Creme de la Creme list if this is your first time here? It was started as a response to the many blogging awards that are given out each winter. I expanded the idea of presenting “the best” to include a post from every blog in the ALI (adoption/loss/infertility) world*. Every blogger has a personal best that deserves recognition. As editor of the list, I create the small blurbs after the title which serve as a doorway to the post. I hope they will help you find what you are seeking to read as well as show definitively the diversity of experience and emotion within the ALI community."

Find the list and some of the most amazing, inspirational, heartbreaking, blog entries from 2009 in the ALI world... you name it, you can find it HERE. I hear #16 is especially awesome (shortcut). ;-)

Happy 1st Birthday, baby girl.

6 years ago, I started trying to conceive you, my second child. My RJ.

5 years ago, I had a dream. I was talking to a 5 or 6 year old girl in my kitchen, she was my daughter. She was telling me not to give up trying to conceive her, because if I did she would never exist, and that just could not be allowed to happen. She was so cute, fair honey brown hair, blue eyes... I assured her I'd hang on. I had renewed hope. It was you.

4 years ago, I was wilting. I was scared and I was hurting. I was angry. Infertility is soul crushing.

3 years ago I had given up. I accepted you were but a dream. I killed the dream and it broke my heart. I felt I had let you down, but I had nothing left to give anymore. Then hope whispered try again. Courage came.

2 years ago, I failed IVF #1. It hurt. I threw myself into Christmas. I denied the terrifying fear that you would never come, yet again.

12 months ago tomorrow, you came hurtling into the world in the back of an ambulance. Drama queen! Life has been dramatic since. Yet you are an utter delight. You are like sunshine, or bubbles. My heart swells every time I even look at you. That squished up face when you smile your cheesiest grin, melts me instantly. Your :-O face cracks me up endlessly. You're daring and brave, and feisty and funny. So much personality. Your blue eyes are full of emotion, your hair is fair honey brown - you already resemble that child from my dream. You are utterly amazing. I am so freaking proud you're mine. Your adoration and love for your big brother is outweighed only by his for you.

I get teary thinking about how close I was to quitting on getting you. 5 goddamn years Janey girl! I am so incredibly bloody glad I stuck at it. So glad I was a determined, stubborn, bitter, angry, pain in the arse, because it got me you. I can't imagine life without you now. You're all I dreamed of and more. And my love for you is immeasurable. You're perfect.

You were so worth that wait. Worth every tear, every heartache, every pain, every hell. You. Were. Worth. It. ALL.

Your very first birthday, I hope it delights you. I have so many wishes for you my beewee. I hope you dream big. I hope you love hard. I hope you take risks. I hope you believe in the wonder that is you.

Happy Birthday, baby girl. I luboo.

My baby girl is turning One...

In ten days, my little RJ is turning one! It is cliched to talk about time flying, but what a year, it certainly has passed in the blink of an eye.

My dramatic birth story, which I have been thinking about this week, can be read here. So dramatic, so very RJ. The world MUST stop for her, always. She is spoiled rotten by her big brother, too. He dotes on her endlessly and is always indulging her. It is a pattern I see continuing in years to come. She adores him back - the way she says Finn is to make a pffffff sound with her lips. Shes trying to get the F right! And now she is at an age where they can interact, honestly, it makes my heart skip when I see them playing together and laughing at one another, there is nothing like it on this earth. Just gorgeous.

Her latest trick of furniture cruising is doing my head in, because she gets up, and can't work out how to get back down so stands and whinges endlessly. Really hoping that trick is learned ASAP. Argh!

The year has passed so fast, between the masters, a newborn and cancer, it was like blinking. Part of me feels really guilty that I missed a lot of her year mentally, I was not as focused on it as I was on Finn's because I was under a lot of stress. I am still heartbroken I only fed for 4 months, when my goal was longer than I had Finn (10m). I am sad that whilst I still enjoyed it and cherished small moments, it was not as I envisaged. And when I had longed for this for 6 years, through infertility hell and back, I feel a little ripped.

Perspective lands heavily, though, and I am grateful that Mum is healthy again (another all clear from the oncologist yesterday!) and that I HAVE my baby girl at all. That is truly all that matters, and I will enjoy her second year completely.

I was thinking about the 5 years we tried to conceive her, the 12 months we gave up altogether, the dream of her as a 5 year old, that had inspired me before that, the invasive treatments of IUI and IVF, the heartbreak, the soul destroying hell that is infertility. The determination. And here she is. Finally. As I write this, she is standing next to me (sobbing because she again doesn't know how to get back down!) but she is gorgeous. I am told she is like me, I call her the new improved version. She is utterly beautiful. The biggest eyes, of the deepest blue - so blue they sometimes appear violet - that melt me completely. Her hair, swept to the side with a clip is getting fairer all the time. She is tiny, but boy has she packed a personality into that vessel! Feisty and she lets you know what she does and does not want with no room for doubt (sounding familiar?) She knows "cuddle" and gives them generously. Ditto those slobbery, open-mouthed, baby kisses. She says Dadda, tucker, mama and Fffffff. Her world is summed up in those 4 words!

She is everything I dreamed of and more. My beautiful Rory-Jane, keep up that feisty, and keep up the cuddles to balance it! I promise to make the next year a special one for all of us. Bringing the happy. I love you, baby girl. Happy (early) Birthday!

Infertility Revisited (again).

I was reminded again this morning, about the frustration people dealing with infertility face, and how misunderstood that grief is. When I was grieving my own infertility, at about the point that we decided to stop trying treatment and accept that we would have no more, I was so incredibly angry, so bitter, and you know what? I stand by it. It was hell and no one but those in it understood it, and it can be the loneliest feeling in the world. Most people I have come across with infertility issues, handle it with far more grace than I did, but do they feel the same as I did? Are they a seething mass of anger, and sadness underneath and simply handle it better? Are they better at projecting that outward, coping facade? Or was I really over the top in my emotional state? The end part of our journey is over at My Face Tube but there were 4 years leading up that last one, and it was the 2 prior that I was at my lowest and was often told I was angry, bitter and frankly, a bitch.

Funnily, it was the most liberating and freeing thing to do, was to be a bitch and to be okay with it within myself. Yes I am sarcastic, snarky, and with little tolerance for stupidity. But, I am okay with that. If you are not, see you later, thank you for stopping by. It is one of the silver linings of that whole period, that ability to accept and love about myself, that which others found so awful. I also made some of the most loyal, understanding and supportive friends anyone can make.

Someone wondered today, would they return to 'normal' when the infertility hell was over. Having waged that war, and eventually won it, I think no. Well, not the same normal as before, anyway. For me, it certainly eased, the wounds heal, but they leave scars, and they change you as a person. They change the people you surround yourself with, and they change you. It reminds me that there is a story to tell here. There is a voice that needs to be heard. There is normalising that needs to be done. The emotions of infertility are very often ugly, and confronting, especially to the smug variety of fertiles, but they aren't wrong.

They just are. And that's okay.

It is a story I am determined to tell.

Infertility Flashback of a good kind

You know whats REALLY nice? I had some visits to this blog this week via Lost & Found. 6 months (almost) on from my IVF babe being born, and they still keep an eye on my blog and mentioned my masters completion. It would be easy to slide me out under the door now that I am no longer IVFing, or dealing with that hell any longer, but they don't.

That made my day. For my infertility blog reading mates who have not heard of it , Lost and Found is the most amazing thing in the internet world of infertility. Seriously. It is a HUGE blogroll of every kind of diagnosis and treatment regime imaginable, of every post/pre/during infert everything all sorted in pretty categories so that you can easily find people in your same boat. Not only that, they have people assigned to go about clicking on every blog in every category to ensure tabs are kept on where you are at and that at low points, or high points, of points of any mention - a link goes into a daily newsletter that gets sent out to everyone subsribed and they come cheer you up, congratulate or commiserate with you... it is fan freaking tastic. You are NEVER alone with that hell EVER again. Kick arse.

ETA my links dont look clickable, L&F is here: http://lostandfoundandconnectionsabound.blogspot.com/ that is clickable!

38 weeks 4 days

I know this is a very self indulgent post, but indulge me if you will!

I wanted to get some things out of my very overwhelmed brain and try to gain some fresh perspective and maybe even a sense of calm and readiness for the week(s) ahead.

Today, one year ago, we failed our first IVF cycle and my period came. It was, I felt, the start of the REAL end for us. I was sure that if 2 embryos in wouldn't take, and we had struggled to even get those - that we were in real trouble.

This journey started January 1st 2004. Finn was 5 months old and we realised that since he had taken 2 years and clomid to conceive, we would likely have problems again, and we wanted a close age gap, so we started trying naturally. When Finn was 10 months old, we were able to start clomid again as he had weaned. But, it was slow, with a bad Dr who made us jump through all the hoops again the long way, despite our history. Eventually, we recommenced clomid and I stubbornly stayed on it well passed the time I ought to have stopped because I was refusing to believe it wouldn't work when it had the first time eventually. At the end of 2004, I had this dream:

(I dreamed there was a little girl who was about 5 and she was telling me not to give up, that I had to keep going or she'd never exist. She was my daughter, and her name was Olivia (not even a name we had considered). I told her not to worry, and promised I'd keep trying, and knew I had to now because otherwise she wouldn't be! And that just wasn't possible!)

- which at the time felt REALLY prophetic. Over time, I gave up on it, which hurt a lot.

Meanwhile, we had moved away and to Melbourne so a new doctor had to be found. We then started IUI treatment, and this was now 18 months of trying. We did 2 IUIs, both failed, one on Christmas eve of 2005 - a hard christmas for both J and I.

We wanted to try again but I was struggling badly with the emotion of treatment and having to drag a 2 year old Finn along to all the appointments and have him see me cry all the time with disappointment and frustration. The clinic was across the city and everything was difficult.

We decided we had had enough. Too much had gone to SO much trouble and effort for a child that it seemed would never exist, when the one we had was missing out on having all of us. So we made the excrutiating decision to end treatment and accept the end of our family.

The guilt, depression and horror of the next 18 months was beyond description. Honestly, it was literally the worst grief and pain I have ever felt. I was in a very dark and terrifying place. I lashed out at the world all the time and th ache was out of this world. I felt like I had killed that "Olivia" from my dream, that even though she had pleaded with me not to give up on her, I had, and as a result, she would now never exist. I had guilt for that, guilt at depriving Finn of a sibling, and anger the depths of which scared me. It was hell, pure hell.

After a while, i found some light, and started to find new things to fill my life. Writing, study, and rediscovering ME for ME. In September of 2007, our nephew was born which prompted an out of the blue discussion between J and I. Up until then, we had stopped speaking about it (aside from the times he would find me off having a cry over it sometimes when I discovered a reminder of my longing like Finns ultrasound photo or something).

Out of nowhere, we decided to return to treatment and this time, we refused to be stuffed around. Within a week we had an appointment at Melbourne IVF with a new fertility specialist, who immediately recommended we head directly to IVF and start immediately. It was a whirlwind, and we were excited to be back again, if not extremely scared... We felt IVF had to overcome all our issues and although taken aback to discover we would also be needing ICSI, hopeful for our chances.

First cycle we got 11 eggs, but only 2 embryos of low and average quality. Our second cycle we understimmed and had to be cancelled. We didn;t even get to retrieval and I was devastated. What had we gone back to? How difficult was this going to be, this was supposed to be the solution! I didn't expect it to be so hard, I must admit. And I didn;t realise until I endured it, how bloody hard an IVF cycle is to go through. I thought I knew, given all my years in the infertility world, but it was far harder. Our 3rd cycle we had 22 eggs retrieved and my mild/average OHSS was painful and took me a good 2 weeks to recover from. From those 22 eggs, we again only ended up with TWO embryos. I was crushed. I was so shocked and scared of going through more fresh cycles. It was so hard for us to even get TWO! We had to risk OHSS and go hard just to get two! Because of the OHSS the doctors wanted us to freeze all or only return ONE embryo when I had really wanted both. I had to decide on the spot and cried the whole transfer of one above average (not excellent) quality embryo was put in, the average frozen for later use.

I was certain it didn't work but insisted on a better progesterone support just in case... Maybe that was the key for me. Whatever the case, at 10DPO I got a positive test. I had tried to wait until 11 days, but mid morning I was a mess and just had to be put out of my misery again. So, I tested. I was shaking like a leaf and called Michelle to scream at her that it was positive. Both of us were shocked I think!!!

I had 4 of my best friends in on it from that first test, Megs who arrived early the next morning with decent brand tests and helped me check them and watched with me as a second line appeared. Amy and Emma who would inspect photos of 453 wee tests via email and tell me I was not hallucinating.. The poor girls have put up with SOO many TMI emails these past months!!!

The shock of the positive bloods, the 6 week scan that showed that fluttering heartbeat... I was terrified for the first 19 weeks. I couldnt relax and enjoy it at all. I spent the whole time petrified. At 19 weeks when we had the scan and discovered a "95% likely" girl, was the same day that I started getting daily, definite movements and I was able to relax and start to enjoy it - and to shop!

To hear no so many times, to be told FAIL FAIL FAIL NEGATIVE NEGATIVE BLOOD BLOOD so so so many times over 4 years, to try to adjust to success is really difficult. I still have trouble believing shes in there.

Freakily, Megan pointed out that between me having that dream, where she was 5 years old, and her being born is almost EXACTLY 5 years. The age in the dream. So everyone was convinced it would be a girl! We didn't go with Olivia though, because I had tied too much pain and emotion to it over the years, and I think she understands that :)

I have just under 2 weeks until she is due to be born. I cannot believe that I made it. That after SO much, we are truly almost there. Shes almost in my arms. I cant stop crying writing this! Healing! We fought so hard, and so determinedly and we bloody did it. Our babe is almost here, our family is almost complete. Finn is beside himself and always wants to chat about her, what will she look like, when will she come, what will she be like... Hes so excited about being a big brother. Seeing that side of him, that I always wanted for him, is priceless. Seeing J doing this nesting thing this weekend (LOL) and being excited makes me get tears... And feeling her move, cherishing these last moments of pregnancy and knowing this is likely the last time I will be here, feeling this miracle... its overwhelming. Its amazing.

We've almost made it.

Hormones

Oh dear. Am sitting here and the full realization of the end of infertility treatment has hit me, the hell that was the last 4 years is finished. I never have to do that again. I am free. I can't stop these body wracking sobs of relief.

Pregnancy after Infertility

I am currently during my latest pregnancy freak out, so bear with me. By freak out, what I mean is, worrying something will go wrong or has gone wrong undetected etc... It seems to happen after I start to get too close to believing it is real and enjoying it. Suddenly I find myself worrying and being scared and playing AC/DC through headphones to my stomach, even though I am not a fan, just because its loud, to get baby moving... And I have figured out why it is so. It may be obvious to everyone else, but it took a while to filter through the fear... Its that whole "this is too good to be true, something must be about to go wrong" thing. "This doesn't happen to us" etc.

I feel like its all a game. It doesn't feel real, its still are we are we not... even though I am almost 17 weeks now. It just feels like its all this maybe fun silliness, not real. When will that click over? Will it? I found myself in the midst of worrying last night (even though I had felt movements) hugging Finn, fighting back tears and thinking "I always have you kiddo" thoughts, which is what I used to do with negative tests and the like... I should be past that now, I shouldn't be thinking that way anymore. Am worried that the baby will arrive and I will be hit by this big scary unprepared for the reality shock and get PND or something. Was talking to J about it, and he is confident at some point in the next 23 weeks it will click, and I will believe it and so on. I hope so. Its still so scary, I wanted to enjoy it and instead I find myself either worrying, or wishing it away (eg I will feel better at the 6 week scan.. the 12w scan... when I get movements.. when the movement is more defined... past 26 weeks... etc etc). Need a big slap perhaps? Its just not the exciting and wonderful experience I sort of naively expected. I love it, but I spend most of it utterly terrified - and thats not fun! Need to just suck it up and get over it and force myself to be more positive.

I am pregnant

Yes indeedy I am. Up the duff, well and truly. IVF #3 was a success, though it really did not appear that would happen. I had no faith in the cycle working at all. The details are all over at My Face Tube, but in summary: Took ages to get the follicles growing, looked for a while as though the cycle may again be cancelled which was scary. Managed to get to egg retrieval, and many follicles joined the race at the end and 20 eggs were retrieved. I woke from anaesthetic feeling really crappy. They made me stay a lot longer than usual for observation but I conned them into letting me go eventually. I was bedridden for the better part of a week, aside from faking my way through transfer 2 days past the pick up. Transfer was devastating. I found out that from 20 eggs, we only had TWO embryos. They leaned heavily on me to only transfer one or nil, when I had felt I needed two in to have a real chance. The danger was that my hyperstimulation could become life endangering to me or babies should both embryos implant, because I felt so damn sore and sick I decided to go with head over heart and just had one embryo transferred, the other frozen for later use. I cried through transfer with disappointment. The retrieval had been so painful and to only have 2 and face the possibility of another stim cycle so soon was awful. A week later I was able to move around as normal, and was enduring the wait to find out if it had worked or not, but was assuming not.

At 10 days past retrieval, I caved and did a test mid morning. To my shock a second line appeared immediately, though faint (as it ought to be that early!) I was shaking, showing Josh, and he too could see it. Many more tests later and the same result. The next few days were surreal. blood tests confirmed we were pregnant, very much so. At 6 weks (4 weeks after I first found out), we had a scan and saw a tiny blob with a flickering heart beat. How on earth did this happen?! This doesn't happen to us, we fail here! My Doctor was stoked for us, which was lovely, and the next 6 weeks were awful. I was scared the whole time, full of fear, waiting for it to all go wrong. It didn't.

At 12 weeks, we had another scan, and there was our baby, legs kicking, arms waving, healthy and perfectly formed. 2 weeks later and I am just over 14 weeks pregnant, and to be honest, it still doesn't feel real. I am still finding to hard to connect. Four years of training myself to expect failure and negatives where conception is concerned is hard to change. It is really hard to adjust to the idea of potential success. I still have vague morning sickness, though improved from the horror it was at 7 weeks or so! Got a bump that feels like lying on a ball when I lay on my tummy. So far, it has all mimicked Finns pregnancy closely.

The downside is not being in Warrnambool anymore, where it was all straight forward and simple and great. Here, the care has been crap. I am booked in at the royal womens in the city, and I hate it. I wish I had gotten a private obstetrician but I am so clueless about things here being new to the area still - and having never expected to fall pregnant I never wanted to research it and tempt fate. Going to fight to do shared care with a GP here though if I can get my glucose test to go well...

So thats the update. Apologies in advance if this blog becomes the baby show a bit. Will try to still have some semblance of a normal life... but I never did before so why now!? Anyhoo... Till next time. :)

The post IVF dream-scape

Not that I am being negative, but I am beginning to think about life after IVF, this could be whether it is successful or not. I feel that having plans and dreams in the works will help when that time comes, particularly should it not be successful.

So, things I want to further pursue when I have my own time, money and resources back again:

* More writing, independent of uni deadlines - pure self motivation and determination!

* Consideration of still more post grad study (librarianship)

* Travel, starting within Australia, then heading abroad

* Return to Italian lessons

* Invest in good cameras both digital and film

* Create my own dark room and develop my own stuff - a lost art!


It is certainly a very rich life to envisage, an exciting one at that. I don't feel like giving up on the IVF at all, I am coping well and quite happy to see out our commitment of this year, but after that, I think I will be ready to move on and put all that behind us for good.

Its a sad addiction...

I know, I know. I now have 4 blogs. Its a worry, I am thinking of seeking out a blogger rehab, I am a likely patient.

I wanted to keep the infertility/IVF stuff separate to this blog, which is my main one, my little-bit-of-everything-mish-mash-jumble-of-life one. And so, myfacetube was born. Myfacetube the name, is a play on my space, facebook, you tube... combined would make a MINT, right? Just a bit of silly, for a more serious topic.

Then, the other day, I was looking at the photos Finn was taking and thinking what a cool perspective it is to see the world through a childs eyes quite literally. So I made a photo blog for his stuff: The Apple Reporter, based on a character he plays whose origins I am still to work out! (Hence the funny pic of him on that blog as the infamous apple reporter!)

Today I was browsing random blogs, as you do, and discovered the world of foodie blogs. Some that look only at restaurants etc. but I'd feel awkward going out for a meal and photographing it from every angle before, during and after eating (plus I'd always forget, plus we rarely eat out!) But I loved the cooking at home ones, and decided I might have a go at that too. Why not?! And so I added Eats at our Digs. Although, am yet to post in it, so we'll see if I actually do!

I heart blogging!

Umming and Ahhing

Every now and then, I spend some time reevaluating the decision we made to have no more kids. It was not much of a fair decision, given that to do so involves a lot of treatment, a lot of stress for all 3 of us, a lot of money and a lot of travelling.

Mostly, I am happy with the decision to just make the most of our boy, and give him everything. Every now and then, doubt creeps in. It might be someone else's baby or pregnancy announcement, it might be looking at his baby photos, or something else that makes me wonder if I do want another.

J does not, but would support me if it was what I wanted to do. I think that perhaps many people when they complete their families - infertility aside - may have doubts. How am I to know this is not normal and unrelated to infertility?

I talked it over with a good friend which helped me work through all the thoughts and really get to the heart of it all properly which was good (thanks Em xx) and again I came back to the same conclusion. This was the right decision for us.

I have gone too far forward with this decision now to go back, and I like it here. I like where I am with uni and writing and I like that I can see travel and opportunities for Finn and for J and I. I may look back across the fence to the green grass at times, but if I stop and look around properly, I can definitely see it is just as green over here.

I want to curl up and cry and cry

Infertility stuff. When people don't get it they can be cruel and they can be arrogant.

It still hurts, theres so much pain, so much frustration. I want to get people and slap them and MAKE them understand. I know it takes a stretch to 'get it' but fuck sake. I admire people who can express grief that is pretty (thats Megs for that word, thats it exactly) - good for them. I can't, its not a conscious decision, its just how it erupts, and because of that - I am shunned and attacked and ignored because people get defensive at my anger.

People, in general, are mostly selfish and superficial I have decided. What keeps me sane is the other infert girls, and the bunch of women - not infertile - but who GET IT and who accept me flaws and all, and love me anyway. I love those women, they won't ever know just how much they saved this one little person... I wish I could thank them properly, because without them... I just don't know.

International Infertility Film Festival.

Written 3 April 2007

http://infertilityfilmfestival.blogspot.com/


Some amazing stuff. Very emotional. Please support these entries, and in fact, infertility in general.