Update

Not good.

Bleeding whole weekend.

Beta hcg only gone up by 100 on Monday. ie- a baby is not going to come out of this situation

Beta hcg goes up by 100 again on Wednesday. Fear of Ectopic surfaces

Today- in the clinic for two hours so that I could have an ultra sound that showed nothing. Doubly bad because not only was I have an ultra sound which didn't show a baby but I was to have an ultra sound which didn't show anything- so we still don't know what is going on.

And twice I was asked by staff "So, is this your first IVF transfer".

And how impossible and stupid do I feel to say "No, it's my seventh"

Blood test tomorrow.

Meanwhile I am still stabing myself with Clexan neddles, getting up at 5:30 to put in a pessary, and lying down at 1:30 and 9:30 for an hour for the other pessaries.

It seems like a cruel joke.

I know God is good, but this seems cruel, unjust, and so horrible. I don't understand.

I have never seen my husband so sad. He seems lost and he is so angry at God.

So I don't feel like I can morn properly because I want to be strong for him.

Please God

A break from all the crap?
love Lady Grey

My crazy week

The last four days since I have posted have been the strangest, craziest days of this whole IF process.

As I said in my last post- we had a very low pregnancy test reading which suggested a non-viable pregnancy. My 'score' was 20 on Saturday, and I was down to do another test on Wednesday. The chance I was given was pretty low. Stay on the meds, just in case, but don't get your hopes up.

I caught up with my friend Clare, who was twelve weeks pregnant with her own little IVF baby. I told her the story. I said to her "We believe in a God who can do miracles, who can raise the dead. So we are still praying. But we don't have hope".

Clare said she would pray too.

The next day I took the test (the ever positive nurse who took it kept saying- you never know, I'm hoping it'll be 120) and Tim came home so that we could hear the bad news together.

Ring Ring

"Hi it's Lady Grey here, calling for my results"

"Yep, they are looking fine"

"What, I mean, what do you mean?"

(Nurse takes a quick look at my chart- to find out why I sound so funny)"Well, it's gone up, it's now 185"

"WHAT!!! 185" (Tim looking at me in shock, trying to work out what was going on)

"Does this mean that I'm pregnant, is everything alright?".

"No, it does mean you are pregnant, but an early low result is a bad sign. I would give you fifty fifty chance that this pregnancy will go on".

Tim and I were in shock. We couldn't believe it. We didn't want to get excited. But 50/50 was the highest percentage we had heard for a long time.

When I told Clare she was amazed, and her face book status read "Clare believes in a God of miracles, and answered prayers".

24 hours later- bleeding. Heavy bleeding.

I called. The lady said not to panic, to come in for a test the next morning, and stay on my medication.

I took another blood test, but again, Tim and I sat by the phone, holding each other, expecting more bad news.

Nurse Julie "(Silence- sounds like its going to be bad news) Well, results indicated 540 so it's still right on track. Looks like everything is still going okay".

She told me not to stress. She told me to relax and not to do housework (joking though- so it didn't get me out of any). She told me that I shouldn't be stressed or anxious but that she knew that I would be. She said to come in on Monday if the bleeding continued for another blood test.

The bleeding continued.

So now I sit on Saturday morning- no idea what to feel.

It's hard to believe that a baby could still be inside of me when I've had the equivalent of almost two days worth of period heavy bleeding.

But stranger things have happened this week. I am NOT without hope

And to tell the truth.

For the first time in around 3 years.

I believe in a God of miracles.
love Lady Grey

Stats

This is for my record mainly. Because even though its a bit depressing- it feels like an achievement. I sometimes feel like a failer because I'm not pregnant. But I've done all I can- I've been really strong and that is something I can hold onto when I'm feeling worthless

First Stim
3 fertilised
2 to blastocyst
1 fresh transfered (Elizabeth)
1 frozen transfered (Ethan)

Second Stim
5 fertilised
2 to blastocyst
1 fresh transfered
Implanted but didn't stay (Victoria)
1 frozen transfered (Jack)

Third Stim
6 fertilised (one frozen at 2p stage)
3 to blastocyst
Estrigen levels high so all frozen
1 didn't survive the defrosting
1 frozen implanted (Esther)
2p grown to 3 cells then transfered (William)
1 frozen transfer- implnated but HG levels only 20 suggesting non-viable pregnancy.
Next HG test tomorrow.

SO:
3 stim
7 transfers
approx
184 pesseries
80 injections
45 blood tests

Dear Father,
I know that you love me. And I know that whatever happens is not because you don't love me but because you do. But your son told the story of the pesistant widow so we would persever and not give up.
And so I will ask again.
Please give us a baby.
Let it be the little one inside me now.
Please give us a baby.
Please Father.
I love you,
AMEN

Update

Feels strange to update a blog with no body reading- but I feel that I might as well. This blog might one day be something worth looking back on- when all these details that are so fresh and raw grow stale.

This was today.
7am- Pregnancy Blood test
8am- reading
9am-hang with husband
11am-walk
12pm- bleeding
12:01pm- Running around the house screaming and crying "It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair.

Then it got to 12:30pm- and I called to hear the words that I wasn't pregnant.

I didn't hear those words

I didn't hear the words I longed to hear.

I heard this.

"Your level is only 20, which means that it is very unlikely that you are going to be pregnant. Normal level is 100"

It's such a strange feeling. It's both not as bad as it could be and yet it's not really good. It's like a disappointment and its kinda not. It's not that I have hope. I don't. I know that this little embryo inside me is either dead or dying.

But it feels like something. It feels like a step, a bit of new information, a change from the usual no, no, no.

It feels like maybe, just maybe, this might one day happen.

I am of course praying to the God of miricles that if my little one is dying that he will save her.

It's so hard. Tim is taking it way harder than me. Anything that involves any medicine just confuses him. I keep forgetting I've eaten, sleepen, and drunk infertility information for three and a half years. He's just figured stuff out as he's gone along. SO when I tell him that our embroy is most likely dying- his face just feel.

I still grieve like crazy. Seven embryos is such a huge number- and part of me just wants to fall apart. Am I stupid to keep hoping? I let Tim name our last little one (he called him William). I think I'll let him name this little one too.

Today when I was lying in bed Tim came in and held me. He said "I promise you that I will do everything I can, and you will have a happy life. I promise that when you are old you will be surrounded by people who love you.

That is my biggest fear. Being Old. Alone.
LG

The hardest thing

Children are not a right. I know that.

A friend asked me today, over a cuppa and lots of tears- what were the things that I found hard about Infertilty.

There are so many things

I want a baby.
I work so hard to get pregnant and nothing.
I pray and nothing happens.
I want a big family and now I might not have one at all.
It just seems so unfair.

I know that children are not a right.

But I can't get it out of my head.

I should have a two year old by now.

And I have nothing.

LG

Three strikes

When I first went in for counselling at the infertility clinic- one of the first things that I talked about was the fear. The fear of questions.

Questions come all the time.

I worked with Children- and anyone with half a brain can see that I adore them- and they seem to like me allot too.

And so the questions come:

"When are you going to have a baby?"

"Have you and Tim decided when you are going to have a baby?"

And to be honest, the fear of questions is sometimes greater than the challenge of facing them myself.

And so my counsellor said "Plan your answers".

Great advice.

This is Tim and my first answer:
"Hopefully one day" or "We'd love to have kids one day"

This is usually all we have to face. But sometimes there is a follow up question.

"But have you got plans?/Do you know when you'd like to start trying?"

Second answer:
"We have talked about it- but you know we can make plans but its really God who directs our path" or if not Christian 'We've talked about it, but you know sometimes things don't turn out like you plan".

Almost everyone leave it at that. But every so often you will find one person who will not stop.
Sometimes it's nice words "I just figured since you obviously love kids"
Sometimes it's nosey: "But when, I want to know!"
Sometimes it's hurtful: "But you don't want to wait to long, you don't want to get too old".

That's when I loose it. That's when all the pre-planning in the world doesn't help.

Third answer:
"I need to go. Sorry".

Regards,
Lady Grey

Number 6

One of the great things about having a blog that no one knows about so no one reads is that I don't have to worry about how often I write on it.

Today they transfered another embryo.

That embryo- which was frozen at the point of fertilisation- is currently only at 3 cells, though it seems to be still growing, so the chances that he will make it are slimmer than normal (Tim and I usually pick a gender that we think our embryo is- and funnily enough we usually agree). But I love him and I want him to stay.

On the side of my blog i have put a picture I took of five flowers- white carnations. For mothers day at church flowers are given out to all the Mum's as an acknowledgement of them. At the end of the day, because they were there and I could- I picked up five flowers- one for each little embryo. Because even if I don't want everyone at church to know that I really am a mother- I wanted them acknowleged. But now I need a new picture. I am a mother of six.

Today at the fertility clinic Tim and I overhead another women (there for a transfer or pick-up) giving her birthday. She was born in 1968. I was born in 1980.

Put's things in perspective.

And hope resurfaces.

Don't know if it's a good thing.
Regards,
Lady Grey