My Birthday Wish

I was going to name this post ‘all I want for Christmas’ but it’s quite a lot to ask for considering I keep reading about the anguish of those who don’t have positive IVF experiences (I feel terribly guilty) and my birthday is in 9 days so the sooner the better.

I want to bloom.

Instead of being full of the joys of going to be a mummy I am either sick, tired, depressed, sad or angry… Or all of the above. At least the constipation and farting has stopped, well, mostly.

I feel fat and already think I’m waddling. I feel unattractive in every way possible;  I can’t be arsed to put full makeup on in the morning, my clothes don’t sit right, my hair is a mess (I’m a trip to the supermarket away from fucking off my natural choice to not dye my hair until I’ve stopped breastfeeding) and I miss my painted false nails (another bullshit mother earth decision).

But wait, I’m greedy. I want more…

To not have to go to work until 6.30pm every day and be stressed. To not unexpectedly and violently sneeze in pairs at least once a day. To not itch. To have a night’s sleep without vivid dreams. To not be obsessed about looking up what these dreams mean on my stupid app whilst I wait for toast and consider puking each morning. To not know what to eat, then suddenly only want one thing that I have to have. To not have progesterone pessary gik in my knickers all the time. To be able to get really pissed, stoned, both or more to take the pain away. Just for one night. To feel like me. To not be scared I’ll never feel like me again. To get hugs that last forever from all the people I can’t have one from.

There was some happiness this week when I had my 12 week scan, knowing all is ok still, but it was also really stressful. Now I’m waiting for the dreaded, albeit unlikely, high risk of downs syndrome call before next Wednesday. I can’t even talk about this. However, pregnancy and how I imagined our life would be like up until today – 12 weeks and 4 days – has been pretty rubbish and unrealistic. Day in, day out, life has been the same but with added shit sprinkles on the top. No kisses on the belly, no concern for my spleen being left in the kitchen sink at 7.30am and no exciting planning trips to Mothercare.

I’m sorry to all you desperate wannabe mothers who must think I’m ungrateful for getting what I wanted and now bitching about it. I understand, I was one of you. It’s just not the movies. I was stupid for ever thinking it could be.

So for now, I’ll just wish to bloom in the next 9 days. I guess I might have to put some of the rest of it on my Christmas list… This year and next.

Can You Change Your Midwife If You Don’t Like Her?

YES! And you totally should if you’re not 100% comfortable! I found it easy to do and after seeing my new one today I’m very glad I did… here’s the story.

I first saw my named midwife at my surgery about four weeks ago and I just didn’t have a good feeling about her. I’d been watching the marvellous Midwives series on TV and I just hoped for, well, more… a nice, mumsy, caring midwife who I felt I could trust. Especially after IVF I needed to know I was going to continue in the very best hands.

I guess I didn’t help the situation in a way as when she said I would have to go back and see the consultant at the hospital as IVF classed me as high risk, I asked if that was only if I chose to give birth at Northampton.

“What do you mean if you don’t go to Northampton?” #dirtylook

“Well, I’ve heard a few horror stories about the maternity unit, from some people I personally know and I’ve read others [and the hospital as a whole is almost as far down the leagues as is possible]. I wondered about Bedford as they have a birthing centre.” #awkwardface

“Northampton has a new unit opening in November. But, well, you need to be seeing someone over there then if you want to go to Bedford.” #dismissivescowl

“Oh well, I guess I don’t know yet, I suppose I need to look round them.” #illgetmycoatthen

Although it may not have started out the best way and that is partly my fault, I would have expected her to be a) reassuring about Northampton or b) supportive that I’m entitled to a choice, rather than being a total bitch.

Next, m’lord, she fucked up my due date… if my midwife can’t get it right then boy I’m in trouble, right? I’d worked it out from the extraction day, when sperm hit egg. Pretend this was normal ovulation, minus 2 weeks to supposed first day of last period, add 40 weeks… 3 June. She wouldn’t have it at all and took 40 weeks from creation, giving me 17 June. Whilst this doesn’t sound like much of an issue, it meant my 12 week scan date was late and so that’s now had to be changed today to when I’m actually 12 weeks 2 days (20 November) rather than 15 weeks 5 days (13 December). This would have been too late to have the tests for Downs and who knows what other problems it could have caused.

So, I had trust issues already and I’d only been sat there 10 minutes! This was added to when she told me I couldn’t eat goat’s cheese or feta – hmm, I don’t remember seeing those on the many no no lists I’d read – but she didn’t think to mention parmesan, which I’ve since found out. I eat loads of these cheeses so I checked and the packet of feta I had in my fridge said made with pasteurised milk. So she’s a bitch, a dick and a liar….

What really topped it off was she was so dismissive and rocked through the paperwork like I was just another pig in the pen. When I said I’d had some nausea the week before she said “oh you’re too early for that” and stated “it’s too early for blood tests, I’ll see you [I’ll allow you grace me with your presence] in four weeks”. It felt like it was my fault I was there, but all I did was call my surgery and they booked me in!

So what to do, what to do? I thought I’d wait until the bloods appointment and see if she was any nicer to me. However, I had to call the gyne unit to change my consultant date the week after, as it clashed with my holiday, and I just thought I’d enquire if there was a process for changing, were there multiple midwives at my doctors or would I have to change surgery.

“I’ll pop you through to the community midwives office, they’ll change it for you.”

“That’s no problem, not everyone gets on with everybody… can I ask the reason though… I understand, no problem… someone will ring you, but I’m not sure when.”

An hour later “Hi I’m Amanda [midwife extraordinaire and lovely, lovely person]”

I saw Amanda today at another surgery in a village just outside Northampton, about 4/5 miles from my house, but I didn’t have to change my doctor. She operates from two surgeries and I can see her at either, but the other is a village is a little further away. She had called me a second time to confirm the time for today and I just got a warm feeling from both conversations and she even booked me a double appointment so she could “get to know me”. In person she was totally awesome too and sorted out the mess of the scan dates and the paperwork with a smile. She gave me more information about the consultant I’m due to see in December and just made me feel happy about everything, and I’m looking forward to seeing her on 2 January. She even took my (4 pots of – gah!) blood without hurting me and it was over in a flash. Sorry for gushing but it made my day for someone to be really nice to me… my marvellous husband didn’t even remember I had an appointment, hasn’t yet asked me how it went and the new scan date clashes with something he already has in his diary.

So if you have doubts about your named midwife I’d suggest you call the hospital, ask for the community midwives office and just ask them to assign you someone else. I assume by telling them what the issue is they can pair you up with someone who meets your needs better and if my experience is anything to go by, it was simple, I wasn’t made to feel like it was me being picky and the outcome is I feel much happier about my treatment.

Day 29: SHIT! It worked!


My IVF pall reblogged my good news and I’m happy to do the same for her… it feels like there was a reason she found my musings and now we can go through EVERYTHING together, albeit with 6 weeks difference… I’m the guinea pig!
Yay for positive IVFers everywhere!

Originally posted on Nat JezzCrawford:

The two week wait was just too long, on Friday eve, 11days after our one & only embryo was transferred back into my uterus we tested… I didn’t want to but as my husband had just arrived back from working away over his birthday he thought it would be a nice (potential) extra birthday present.. So…We tested and there was a FAINT second line on all 3 (different brand) tests.

At 6am this morning we had to check again & to our amazement the Faint 2nd line was darker & eventually became a proper 2nd line.

I’m still gobsmacked now! We have never had 2 lines, 2lines means …

I’m pregnant!!!

4 weeks & 2 days pregnant!!!

It’s the strangest feeling in the world because I just don’t believe it. We haven’t really had a big scream & celebrated because of a mix of emotions. I guess we just need…

View original 204 more words

My Top Ten Worst Things About Being Pregnant

After 2 years of trying and about 2 years of wanting to try prior to that, I’m rather happy to be ‘up the duff’ as my hubby told his brother the other day (I am your pregnant wife not a 16 year old chav that’s been roasted on a park bench after 3 diamond whites). HOWEVER, there are a number of areas of this duffness that I’m not particularly ecstatic about. Here’s my personal top ten worst things about being pregnant (so far):

10. Not being able to eat a lovely runny fried egg – I popped the yolk this morning and fried it (I think the official term here is) to fuck. Just not the same. Meh.

Yummy yolk

9. Not being able to eat puddings such as cheesecake, creme brulee and tiramisu – damn you raw eggs.

Could tiramisu be the best dessert ever?

8. Not being able to eat (do you see a pattern) goat’s cheese – why can’t ALL cheese state if it’s made with un or pasteurised milk. I may well complain to some sort of food labelling body, it’s pregnantist not being sure what you can eat without cooking it (to fuck).

I bloody love your milk curds

7. The baby generally being a pain in the arse – gluteal muscle pain in spasms keeps causing to me to limp like an old man and I can’t even go get a massage until I’m past 12 weeks. It started after carrying my heavy laptop bag around London a few weeks ago and it’s been on and off since, but can be worse sometimes after sitting, sometimes walking or sometimes lying. With lower back problems anyway, this might be a glimpse into future fun when I’m carrying an extra three stone… hoozah!

Yes of course this is my arse…

6. Having tiredness hit you like a tranquilizer dart* – you’re just sat at work, or watching tv, or walking round a shop and your limbs and eyelids feel like they can’t do their jobs anymore. Some nights I’ve doubted whether I can get up the stairs and get undressed.

* Linked to ‘baby brain’ issues I believe – e.g. can’t think of difficult words to use when writing an article, such as article

5. Constipation or farting quite unexpectedly – fruit and fibre, Rivita, dried fruit and/or brown bread must be part of my daily diet or I suffer with the first (3 days bunged up is my record), but this produces the second… lose-lose situation. Twice now at work I have had to exclaim “oh, did you hear that, I’m ever so sorry” (rubbing my tummy in the process to negate the embarrassment), but when my husband was rubbing my lower back this morning (see no. 7) and he asked “did you just fart on my hand”, my new special power suddenly seemed worth having as I giggled like a five year old.

4. Feeling travel sick when you’re not moving… or you are – morning sickness you say? How about sometimes all day sickness, or afternoon, or maybe not at all – that’s the utter fun of it, YOU JUST NEVER KNOW!

Yea… you like this?

3. Linked to the above, gipping to be sick without warning – this is often a morning affair in the kitchen, walking to the car and (my personal favourite) in the car. No fear though, I have to hand the kitchen sink, the pavement and a Chinese takeaway plastic tub fitted with a freezer bag for that unexpected moment when follow through occurs.

2. Not being able to drink coffee – oh you delicious rich friend, thick and strong, I miss you so. You used to pick me up in times of need but now all you do is make me a little nauseous and make me wish I’d never loved you.

Cworfeeeee (as illustrated by my rather clever niece)

1. Pissing in the middle of the night – I’ve not felt the urge to go pee betwixt the hours of nodding off and getting up for approximately 28 years and quite frankly, it’s upsetting. I do not like waking up for at first apparently no reason to then realise it was my bladder complaining. I do not enjoy trying to feel my way to the bathroom with my eyes as closed as possible to avoid any more wakefulness than is necessary. I do not welcome the thirst I then have and the called for drink of water at the bathroom sink which keeps me out of bed even longer. And I do not delight at the moments lying back in bed thinking what time is it, why can’t I sleep 9 hours sans piss.

Do share with me any of your worst things about being in the club, it might make me feel better to know you’re having miserable moments too, and hopefully yours will be worse! :)

The First Weeks of Pregnancy

It’s over two weeks since I pissed in a glass and couldn’t believe my luck that our very first attempt at IVF worked. Any women out there in the same situation… see, there is MUCH hope, but let me tell you, if you think sticking yourself with needles was crappy, wait for the next lot of bullshit you’ll have to put up with!!! Men – you’re SOOOO fucking lucky!!!!

It was all a bit of a relief really and while it was gradually sinking in last week, the morning sickness and tiredness (oh so sick, oh so tired) are now like a punch in the chops, and belly, and tits – I’m definitely cooking a bun! I couldn’t help but buy a cute little pack of baby grows with farmyard animals, slipper things and a pack of two scratch mits when I was at the supermarket the day after I tested – Morrisons’ new clothes range is really lovely! Mr Andrews rolled his eyes, but we have to get the essentials sometime!

I’m continuing on the Utrogestan pessaries and have to do so for the next 7 weeks or so. It sounds nice to have to lie down for half an hour but at 7pm it interferes with dinner and means I’m hardly cooking. Again, it sounds nice, but I feel bad for hubby and do really like making dinner. Whether it’s the medication or the pregnancy, or a bit of both, I’m finding it only takes 24 hours of not enough fibre and I’m edging towards constipation and trapped wind again, but morning fruit and fibre is now a no go. Well, it’s the milk really, but a friend suggested I try soya milk or an alternative as it may just be the mooing type. I stopped the cereal as a week and a half ago it made me feel terrible, but after three days of no pooping I submitted yesterday and decided I’d risk nausea over being more blocked up. Maybe a coincidence but it came out yesterday afternoon!

With regards to the morning sickness, or practically all day sickness as it should be called, Friday was the first real meh day. Saturday I was ok, Sunday I was half ok but I cried and found blowing my nose set me off retching! Yesterday was HOR-RI-BLE though and I really don’t know how I managed it through the whole day at work. I was hoping I wasn’t going to be sick all over myself in the car – gipping whilst driving is really yuk – and I ran straight to the loo when I got in the office. Had another trip a bit later and considered making myself sick again in the afternoon for some nausea relief. Food helps, drink doesn’t, but the food help wears off after about an hour to an hour and a half.

Today I came downstairs, put the kettle on and before I knew it I was running upstairs to the toilet – BUT THERE WAS NOTHING THERE. Worse than being sick I think. My crumpet couldn’t toast quick enough, knowing that food would hopefully stop it happening again… but my coffee undid the good work and I was sick. Needless to say I didnt’ make it to work today. Lying down with my eyes closed helped and then I napped until 10am or so and then I worked from home, albeit slowly as constant seasick doesn’t go hand-in-hand with staring at a screen. Oh I feel so very sorry for myself and I’m thirsty.

Also, the lack of caffeine is troublesome! Although I would usually have decaf from about 2pm, if I was a bit tired I’d have a ‘full fat’ version and now I’m so tired nearly all the time I could really do with the occasional pick-me-up! After this morning I’m now worried I can’t even do de-caf. Boo hoo hoo, I love coffee so much. More than babies, in fact. The tiredness is a total slam. I’m going to bed at times such as 9pm – the horror, the horror – and waking up tired. Suppose this is practice for all the sleep I won’t have in 8 months.

Craving is far too much of a strong word, but I have found I’ve been wanting meat, potatoes (chips/crisps), tuna (but I’ve only had one can as I know potential levels of mercury are bad), cheese, cheese, cheese, grapefruit juice and lime cordial mixed with fizzy water. Also, the things I’m not keen on usually I REALLY don’t want, namely sausages and chicken on the bone!

The one this I am loving is my boobs, but between my husband’s elbows and Catface’s paws I seem to be saying ‘owwww’ a lot!

IVF Pregnancy Day 14 – Only 2 More Sleeps

As the days have gone by this week I’ve been getting more stressed out and time hasn’t been going as fast as I would like. I almost buckled and did a test two days ago, but encouraging words from a new-found friend and soon to be IVF-er meant I’ve held on. Saturday can’t come quick enough.

Tiredness has continued to be the theme of the week and Monday nearly killed me. I’ve felt a little bit sick after having cereal, but no other signs – and any signs could just be the Utrogestan anyway. The weekend was filled with seeing people and we went to see Madness play on Sunday night, so I think I just did too much. We walked to the concert at the other side of town, spent the evening on my feet mildly dancing (except when I had a half lie down on the grass after inserting my fanny tablet in a portaloo – nice huh) and then walked home the longer way to avoid being raped on the park. I couldn’t come round on Monday morning and hardly remember driving to work. I think I woke up at about 11am and was yawning again by 3.30pm. The other days have followed a pattern whereby I lull in the middle of the day and struggle to concentrate. I’m having one now, but seeing as I’ve been immersed in Breaking Bad every night (up to S5 E9 tonight – eeek) and not had time to write a post I thought I’d do a quick one now.

Whether it was the utter exhaustion that brought it on or not, Monday, and even more so Tuesday, I started to be convinced I’m not pregnant. Now I’m not so sure. I’m guessing it’s quite normal to go through an ‘I am/I’m not’ stage and i can’t really put my finger on why I had such strong feelings of a negative outcome. My boobs felt a little different (I’m a bit obsessed with holding them – I love the growth!), like a little less hard, I felt less bloated and I thought I smelled of upcoming period. I realised how much I’d invested in ‘3 of 6′ working and whilst we have three more embryos frozen, I got a glimpse of how upset I could – would – be on Saturday. I realised it’s unlikely I’d be that lucky enough for it to work first time round when there are so many people out there it doesn’t work for over and over. I realised how soon I want to get out of my job and into a new ‘mummy’ role.

Like I said though, I’m not so negative today but just need it to be Saturday.  Would one day early matter? Urggh. It’s torture.