Back to life…back to reality

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Walking back from an appointment – walking seems to help a whole lot and it helps that all my appointments are about 30-40 minutes walk from my house!

…there seriously is a song for every situation.

Being around people was what I had initially needed but then before I went back to Beijing I had definitely needed space.

Space to work through my feelings, to process things and to look toward what was coming next.  I needed to prepare myself for the questions, having to face up to the fact that although this blog has helped me in way more ways than I had expected with all the support; acting as an outlet, eliminating taboo of infertility that I had previously experienced and for the sharing of stories, it has also opened me up to having to share my most personal experiences and answer questions that I may not be ready for or prepared to answer, especially in regards to the negative result.

Coming back to the realities of everyday life in some ways was relatively easy and in some ways it wasn’t.  It gave me an outlet in the form of work and routine, returned the mask to firmly cover the real emotions and gave me a place to hide in plain sight.

I started acupuncture, joined yoga twice a week, swam twice a week, did a meditation APP as much as possible and went to counselling.  I had an appointment or something that I did everyday.  In true Amy fashion I even made a spreadsheet/table titled ‘I CAN do this’ to keep track of everything that I was doing.

I made myself so busy that I was unable to process my feelings, I could not verbalise them and I certainly wasn’t acknowledging them.

This caused many problems as people did not realise that I was crumbling.  To them I appeared totally ok…fine….dealing with it in a positive  way and moving forward.  The simple truth was that I was not verbalising how I was feeling because I didn’t even know what I was feeling.

It took me a long time to figure this out, as I had firmly decided that there was nothing that anybody else could do.  Which to be honest is the harsh but complete truth.  I am the only one who can do things to get myself into a better position to undergo the second round, I am the only one who knows how it felt to be totally isolated and alone in Athens, I am the one that this happened to and am the only one who can prepare myself adequately to go through it all again.

After a particular session with the counsellor I realised that I was completely right.  There was nothing anyone else could do BUT she made me realise that the ridiculous guilt that I was feeling because I assumed I would be ‘putting people out’ by asking them to do simple things when they offered was completely ridiculous.

So taking baby steps I asked my parents to help me locate the stimulants via online sites, I asked people on FB to give me TV series and movie recommendations and I asked people to come to a party I wanted to throw the week before I left, to let loose and to also thank them for all the things they had done for me.

Nothing too crazy but to me a HUGE ask.  The funny thing was the immense feeling of pressure being lifted after asking people to give me suggestions for TV shows and receiving them was incredible.  It lifted so much pressure off my shoulders, meaning I could easily take their suggestions and download them and not have to think, search, look up or ask around.  So small, but so effective.

Along the way I am learning and doing tiny things that can help me prepare and get myself in a good place to go through this all again and I think it is working.

Only time will tell but I am willing to put in the work.

 

 

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Feeling punished

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Taken right after the negative was confirmed -Sunglasses are an amazing tool, my new best friend.

Celebrating the positive is all well and good in normal life but throw into the mix the devastation of my first round not working, my body coursing with hormones and all those myriad of other feelings and thoughts, it tends not to lend itself to a positive pathway.

That was me, on the corner of a tiny little seaside town in France outside the pharmacy absolutely losing it and bawling at the unfairness of life…actually, it was the unfairness of IVF drug costs but that had just been the straw that broke the camels back.

After letting me know my negative result, Penny told me to take some time to ‘allow myself to come to terms with the outcome’.  Completely ignoring that advice, as I was painfully aware that I had to get onto organising my ‘comeback’ IVF round (remember I had paid for 2 rounds…not quite for the price of one! Haha), I forged ahead with plans and quickly realised that I need to obtain some stimulants.

China and a lot of Asia do not allow single women to partake in fertility treatments and having being in contact with a few clinics in Beijing early on in the year, I had learned that they could only supply stimulants to customers on their IVF programs.  Great, just great.  The only way to get on these programs was to be married – don’t you just LOVE life sometimes.  Ludacrious.

With Serum being on break for the month of August and with Penny out after a hip operation, I was in contact with another gynocologist who told me (in a round about way), that I needed to get ahold of some stimulants, as we would start them asap when my cycle was due.

Panicking I realised that that wouldn’t be able to happen in China, so with only a few days left of Summer vacation and a quick trip back to Athens out of the picture with the clinic closed, I was left with trying to locate some stimulants either online (with a very slim hope of getting them into China), and locating them in France.

Enter into the equation AirFrance’s strike, coinciding directly with my flight to Nice and then to Paris and them not answering any phone numbers in any offices or answering their emails over a period of the 3 days, both on and after the day I received my negative results, I was livid.  Not only was it cancelled flights but it was more money out of pocket and 5 hours plus on the phone with calls unanswered.

I cursed the clinic….to me it made perfect sense to tell someone after their first round, who has made it perfectly clear that where they live has a lot of limitations, to maybe consider purchasing some stimulants to take back with them just incase.  Apparently that is not the way they think and operate because if they had done that I would have bought some.  I mean, why not add a few vials of stimulants to my already drug filled suitcase and carry on. It would not have made a huge difference to me then but the stress that it was causing me now by trying to locate these drugs was two-fold.

My friend being the saint that she is suggested we go down to the local pharmacy and see what they could do.  Having searched online already I knew the generic name for Merional – I still don’t get why they have different names for the same, or almost the same, drug in different countries…makes no sense to me.  The pharmacy had no idea what I was talking about but after my friend took over and spoke in French and we gave them the generic name, they would be able to get it to the pharmacy the following day (just in time before I flew, on my new Jetstar flight – buggar you AirFrance).

The catch of course was I needed a prescription from my clinic, which I had but it was for Merional, not the French version called Menopur.  Ok, I could do this and hopefully we could make it back with the new prescription before 7.30pm.

The second catch – 10 vials would be the equivalent of $3000 New Zealand dollars.  By this stage I had had enough.  Not only were my eggs shit for some unknown reason, my first round a failure, my finances majorly depleted but now I was being punished for wanting children, something granted so easily to others, by being charged ridiculous prices.  In Greece, the stimulants cost  E17 per shot.  Massive price difference.

I was exhausted.  Who the hell was trying to punish me and for what?

At that point I gave up – on the corner of a street, in a little seaside town in France, I bawled my eyes out, pumped full of hormones and grief, on my friends shoulder.

I am so thankful, everyday, for that friend.  Without her I have no idea how I would have gotten through those initial first days.

Never underestimate the power of a non-judgmental, tolerant and ‘there through everything’ friend.  The kind that knows how to be there and how to help without you saying anything.

Long story short – there was NO way I was paying that amount for these drugs and decided to leave them.  It wasn’t worth the financial and emotional stress and if I had to take some more time off to make sure I was in Greece earlier to get the cheaper drugs, then that’s what I would do.

Also, thank god for those following 4 days in Nice – I finally felt like I had had a holiday.

 

The full story

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Post IVF body, uncomfortable, bloated and pumped full of drugs. Baring all to seek to the positive from a ‘Negative’ day.

While in Sweden having a great time, thankful for the friends and family that surrounded me to take my mind off things, my friend mentioned that she had a few home pregnancy tests in her bathroom and that if I wanted to I could use one.

Initially hesitant, on the morning of my blood test to find out my results (AKA my HCG levels and Progesterone levels ), I gave in to temptation and asked her if I could use one and took the test.

It was quite hilarious. Every TV show and movie that you watch shows the woman taking the pregnancy test nervously peeing on the stick and waiting patiently for the results.  It did not conger up any feelings of that for me.  It was nothing like I expected.  It was almost normal, another part of the process and a small step forward.  Sweet step by sweet little step.  Definitely no dramatic waiting scene here.

A few days previous I had noticed that two of the horrendous side effects that I have been experiencing – bloatedness and terrible face acne had miraculous disappeared (well the pimples had cleared but the belly bloat stayed around for awhile but the feeling of puffiness had mysteriously vanished (I have since found out that those symptoms are caused by Progesterone).  I had mentioned this to my brother and said to him ‘I’m not trying to be negative here but I have a feeling that it might not have worked’.  That bloody gut feeling getting put into play again.

A few minutes later and the stick was showing me a resounding ‘Negative’.  There wasn’t even a tad bit of a faded line or a glimmer of hope.  It was a flat out ‘NO’.

Wow.  That was not what I was expecting…with an embryo actually implanted and copious amounts of pregnancy enhancing drugs in my system I expected at least a slight faded line – the dramatic part of the TV show or movie came into play here.  Much to my surprise, apparently it doesn’t work like that.

It was a crazy feeling to explain, mainly because you are warned that you can have a false positive but you are never told that there is such a thing as a false negative.  Maybe there is a reason for that and that is that maybe it just doesn’t exist.  In my heart of hearts I knew and my poor friend had to see me try to take it in and try to hold it together as I waded through uncertainty.  All credit to her (she is a pretty phenomenal person) and she was like ‘Feel it, let it out, do what you need to do and don’t worry about me or others’.  So amazing.

For absolute clarity we ventured to downtown Stockholm to a clinic to get the blood test.  After a lot of chat in Swedish we were able to determine that we could get the results rushed through and while I was waiting to board my plane to Nantes (via Brussels overnight), I could call to get my results.  We then spent a very lovely afternoon riverside eating amazing Swedish food and then it was off to the airport I went.

My amazing ‘brother from another mother’ sensing my distress after saying goodbye to my actual brother in a flood of tears, jumped on the bus with me and helped me locate the next one to the airport and was there to just help me simmer down and get ahold of my emotions.  I really am so thankful to all of my friends and brother through this time.  It was great to have such genuine and incredible people around me, looking after me, knowing me and knowing what I needed without judgement.  True, true friends that I will always treasure.

Unfortunately at the airport there was a mix up and I was not able to get my results (wrong phone number was given), and I had to wait until the next morning to call.

After a good sleep in Brussels (sometimes emotionally exhausted comes in handy), I stood outside the airport hotel waiting for the shuttle and again was denied my results as they told me they had sent it to my clinic (Serum).

Frantically, before I lost wifi, I shot an email off to Penny to tell her what was happening and that I would appreciate it if she could email me my results asap 1. Because I then would know if I had to organise another blood test in Nantes and also someone to do more butt shots for me and 2. because they were my bloody results!

Arriving in Nantes I was greeted by my bestie’s father and luckily with no wifi, a long drive and me trying to recall my rusty high school French (her father only speaks French), I was distracted long enough to make it to the tiny, gorgeous seaside town on the West coast of France.

Unfortunately for my bestie she was now lumped with me on edge and anxiously waiting for the email that would seal the fate of my first round.

It came in 2 forms.  One from Penny and one from the blood test clinic in Sweden.

Thankfully the sereneness and the fact that I had already had over 24 hours to process the absolute negative from the home pregnancy test meant that I could take it on board a bit more easily.  Not too gracefully mind you but much better than I or anyone around me expected I think.  Don’t worry – there was a side of the road melt down a few days later to prove that I actually am human!

So we did the best thing we could do and that was to take my gorgeous friends wee one down to the ocean, where after 2 weeks of no swimming and following all the other ridiculous rules that I had to stick to, I waded out and dived straight into the ocean.

Celebrate the small things and look to the positive, that’s what I am trying to continue to do.

A toast

 

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A Rose in hand and toasting with them, never a more fitting toast at such a relevant time

In the waiting area of Nantes airport I was catching up on a TV show ‘Kingdom’ and was floored when they did a toast that encaptured exactly how I was feeling. At first I had thought that what I was feeling was just numbness but then after this speech, or in reality a toast (complete with mini bar bottles of spirits), I realised that I was feeling all of these things…except maybe the self loathing part and unfortunately I have no pills to make the pain go away.

The toast went like this:

Woman: To panic attacks…and insomnia

Man: ….and depression

W: ….and rage and loss

M: ….and self loathing

W: …yeah, thats not me, thats you…..but bitterness…

M: I like it, I like it….hopelessness

W: …..oh, fuck, I’m swimming in that

M: …yeah….here’s to all the fuck’n pills that make the pain go away

W: …yes

M: …and fuck you god

Now, I’m not religious so that last part isn’t quite right but I am saying fuck you. I have no idea to who but that’s how I am feeling. I think that is bitterness speaking.

Insomnia and depression are old news, present since the day I found out I had a low egg reserve and a time limit. But rage, loss, pain and hopelessness are all new to the mix. Add numbness and you have Amy Martin right now.

The first round did not work.

Who knows why. I guess there is no use dwelling on things but my mind and body are not in a good place right now.

I seriously was questioning how I could do this all over again. The pain and hopelessness have been at the forefront of things.

Hopelessness has dominated everything and it makes it hard to get to a good place.

I guess with being on holiday all I am doing is looking toward when I get back to Beijing to get my body and head in a good place/space. I’m joining up to exercises classes as soon as I get back to leave no doubt that it was my body that let me down.

I will see a counsellor, no matter the cost, to talk things out, hopefully find acceptance and get my head in a good place.

I will use my obvious easy access to Chinese medicine and start acupuncture (more needles, I know) to help aid fertility – it’s a thing…believe me. Anything to help.

At least then I will have no doubt if it doesn’t work next time that I did everything I possibly could and that it will leave no doubt in my mind that I did everything I could have done to prevent it.

It will work.

See, I can still be positive, even if it is only a timid little whisper somewhere down deep.

I will get to a good place and do it all. over. again. Sometime.  Somehow.