Wednesday, May 30, 2007

The Infertile Lament

We are infertile, you and I,

With broken hearts and few choices left to try

We have been the patient etherised upon a table;

We have travelled, through certain half-deserted dreams,

Of devastating negatives

Of restless nights and fading positives

And hopeful starts with grating missives:

Conversations that follow like a tedious argument

Of increasingly tragic intent

To lead us to an overwhelming decision …

We do not need to ask, “What is it?”

We just go and make our visit.

In the room the scientists come and go

Talking of blastocysts, we know.

And indeed there will be time

For the fears and hopes that slide along the years,

Inflicting despair and determination in doses;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a treatment to match the bloods and scans;

There will be time to trigger and time to plan,

And time for all the injections and alarms of maybe

That allow yet another hope to penetrate our heart;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a dose or three.

In the room the nurses come and go

Talking of HCG, we know.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do we dare?” and, “Do we care?”

Time to turn back and cry in despair,

With a fear born of the possibility so rare —

[They will say: “It’s real, the journey has now begun”]

Our disbelief, followed swiftly by a mood so glum,

Now what do we do, that we have a race to run—

[They will say: “Just be happy, relax!”]

Do we dare

Disturb this universe?

That we have known so well

For results and positives that could so easily reverse.

For we have known them all already, known them all:—

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

We have measured out our cycles with syringe platoons;

We might be lucky and hear those fateful words

Beneath the thumping heartbeat sweating in our phone.

But can a positive ever heal this wound?

Because we are infertile, you and I,

A growing belly might stem the flow,

But our heart will always hold this stone.

That success will only partially hold

Cradled safe in the hand of hope.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

What happened to April??!!

You know, I think I actually slept through most of it! I finished school on the 5th and have been on leave since. Great in one way, but also allowing me to wantonly indulge in my sedentarism (I know, I'm inventing words here). I haven't been getting out of bed until around 10am each day and the uni work I was planning hasn't had even a chance of a look-in yet.

But I have been well. Apart from almost complete exhaustion and a lot of pain in my lower back, I have continued to have almost no symptoms throughout the whole pregnancy - and I'm 14 1/2 weeks now. From everything I read, it seems that if I was going to have them they would have appeared by now. So I count myself lucky (in more ways than one).

My apprehension and anxiety have diminished somewhat, although it's always lurking in the background ready to pounce, particularly the moment I tell someone else the reason why I haven't been drinking alcohol, can't eat certain foods, am tired all the time, need bigger clothes etc etc.

In fact, that's been one of the hardest things to deal with - actually telling people. AB and I have even had numerous arguments about it - he wants to tell the world, and has done so since the beginning, especially since the NT scan which came back and a very low risk. Meanwhile, I am quite happy to keep it quiet until it becomes too apparent to hide anymore. I don't really know why I feel so strongly like this, but I really have agonised over each and every announcement. Perhaps it has something to do with how protective I have been prior to this, containing my feelings and thoughts and actions and disappointments, even from my own family. I guess 4 IVF cycles would do that to you (or to me, at least). And now that it's out there, I feel like I have lost all control of the process (not that I really had any in the first place) but at least it was my information to control.

I know I just need to relax a little about it. It's ABs information as well, and I know he is so excited. It's just been hard to let go.

But, as Dr Challenge says, this one seems to be stuck. I have had as many scans as I have needed and little Nova was sucking it's thumb last week. All of the measurements have been spot on and my belly is starting to look distinctly rounded in the past couple of weeks. All seems to be going ahead as it should be and I really am happy. But it's way past my bedtime and I really must post. For those who are interested, here's a pic of our perfect headed little human (you know, it really was touch and go between that or a prawn at the first scan).