Is this really hardship?

It's a priority in life for me and Jon to find occupations we enjoy. Looking back on what has been most difficult in life thus far, work-related stress is at the top of the list. More difficult, I think, than infertiility.

This doesn't correlate to others' expectations. Complaining of stress at work is generally dismissed with a "yes but that's part of life for everyone, isn't it?" When you say you can't conceive a child, people act as if the world has caved in.

Why should this be?

Marxist argument: the "machine" forces us to keep the capitalist system going - we must be subservient and endure stress related to consumerism. Work, earn, buy, die. Not producing children threatens the next generation of consumers, so it's acceptable to weep and struggle against that.

Feminist argument: having children is the principal means by which women are tied to the home. Our male-dominated society tells us anything that threatens to give women the freedom to stay in the workplace is wrong and must be wept over. But men cannot feel dismay about the workplace - they have to stay out in the cold in order to keep their women at home in the warm.

Pop-psychology: many people are stressed at work and have chosen to live with it. So, it bothers them when someone else acts as if such stress is unacceptable. Many people have children. So, it is natural they want to endorse that as the 'acceptable' way to live. Parents being sad on behalf of the childless couple are reassuring themselves about their family scenario being the path to happiness.

Those are my only current theories. More may come ; )

I am such a blessed person - I have seen very little adversity. Who knows what else may come? Who knows how I would adjust to childlessness as life goes on, if it were to end up being the permanent way of things?

For now, I find that there is much richness in this situation. Even in the lack of control. Even in the sadness. I have had chance to ask myself important questions - did I ever actually want children, or was it what the world told me I had to do? What is my potential as a non-mother? How do I cope with life not going as I had planned it? What does it mean that our generation has the right to choose contraception, choose fertility treatment, choose, choose, choose?

Stress in the workplace, on the other hand, has not felt rich or life-giving at all. It has felt soul-destroying. Something to endure for a time, but flee from as soon as possible.

Here's to a 2012 where we have the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Mwah!

Whose story is it anyway? +13 months

Having told family and some friends about this blog recently, I've been interested in their reactions. I feel bad that several felt guilty: certainly that wasn't the intention.

I expected more embarrassment - we Brits are so stiff-upper-lippy and tend to believe personal information should be kept private. And I can be a bit 'heart on my sleeve'. But there have been no expressions of regret about my putting all this stuff online.

Lots of people read the blog as a reinforcement of what they already think: if they have decided we must feel x, then they focus only on the bits of it that support that theory. (That is the same with most readers of most texts, of course.)

The number of people who see the blog as some sort of lamentation is disproportionate, when it is actually written in a fairly lighthearted way.

All in all, the exercise - in a rather uncomfortable way - makes me see this whole thing as not just my (or our) story, but one owned by many. All of whom need space to work out what it means to them. I accept that, in theory. But I have to fight my dishonourable instinct to yell: "Get your hands off! This is my story! Only I know what it means!"

A year on!

In the end, I got Jon to come with me to IVF Wales, even though the appointment was only to discuss my HSG results (about which I already knew).

Was feeling pathetic after spending the morning watching Juno as part of preparing an alternative Christmas service for church. It is about a 16-year-old who gets pregnant and gives her baby up for adoption to a couple who can't conceive. Not the best choice, on reflection. Needed the moral support of my beloved to face the clinic afterwards.

The visit was all a fuss about nothing, which, again, is what I expected. We sat with the new consultant who spent some time telling us about fertility treatment options. We listened patiently then told her we had been on the waiting list for ICSI for a year. At which point she looked nonplussed and checked our file. Then she said, "Oh, yes, already". Then she told us we may as well have blood tests done while we were there. (We'd already had them, but what the hey). And then she said we'd get the letter about treatment sometime between now and May. Which we already expected.

The one helpful thing she said was in response to our concerns about delays with the waiting list, given the fact we may be moving to another NHS trust area, or possible another country, during next year. She said: "I can't understand why you English people are so honest." (She's not British). "If you move, just don't tell us."

Excellent advice!

One year now since referral. Should be through the first ICSI round by May at the latest.

The uncertainty never really goes.....

I've been full of cold and also had a sickness bug in recent weeks, which is probably what led to my period being two days late. Usually, it's bang on 4 weeks since the last one started, maybe a day early.

Despite knowing that it's as good as impssible for me to get pregnant, my imagination still runs away with me at times like this. And when you discover that, no, this is not some kind of miracle, no your cycle continues without interruption, it's very depressing.

I really struggle to know how to pray on these days of wild imaginings. Do I wish for pregnancy? But then, if I turn out not to be, I feel I've let myself down by voicing the desire. And ashamed of the inevitable bitterness that follows on from the the plea not being upheld. (I don't really believe in the kind of God who makes me pregnant because I've asked, ignoring someone else who hasn't).

It doesn't matter if I voice a desire to God that isn't strictly in keeping with what I believe about him. I know that in my head. But I'm too proud to do it comfortably! I want to pretend that I feel only the things I think are right.

Incidentally, the rigmarole of mess, discomfort and tampax every month becomes so much more annoying when you know you've spent the last 20 years of your life dealing with it FOR NO GOOD REASON WHATSOEVER!

Ho hum.

Waiting Room. + 11 months.

Biggest stress thus far happened this month. Here is what happened:

On October 5, I get a letter saying my appointment for later in the month to discuss my HSG results has been put back to November 23. They always credit such things to 'unforeseen circumstances' which is worse than no explanation, to be honest. So, a couple of days later I call IVF Wales to ask 1) why this is and 2) where we're at with the ICSI waiting list, as we've been on it nearly a year now.

They seem perplexed at this claim, look at some paperwork and tell me that, no, we went on the list in May 2011 so we would get to the 1-year stage next May. And, in fact, the wait is one year to 18 months, so that could mean treatment starts any time between May 2012 and October 2012. My heart sinks into the carpet beneath me. Quietly, I challenge what has been said to me. But I fear Dr X never did put us on that list...... they go away to check, promising to ring back.

I am so upset. Not only do I hang all my sense of stability onto the few certain points in life at the moment - these appointments being crucial examples - but a delay until even May 2012 would leave us totally stuck if we have to move for Jon's work next summer. (The treatment takes a couple of months, I think.) Potentially, we'd have to leave Wales before we'd been seen and therefore go back to square one. It doesn't bear thinking about.

My heart is beating hard when they call back. Thankfully, it's to say they've decided we should be bumped up to position as if we'd been put on the list in November 2010. As we thought. (Except the wait could drag out until May.) What a relief. Makes me realise how much tension there still is beneath the surface of my life, that I react so badly to a thing like this.

Since then, there have been two more letters changing the date of my appointment. As of now, it's likely to happen on November 21. I'll keep you posted!

Continued progress.

We have just spent a lovely weekend with some good friends in Rugby, who have two boys aged 9 months and nearly 3.

Another benefit of this whole shennanigans has been the opportunity it affords to enjoy other people's children. If I had my own, I would (rightly) be very taken up with them and their needs, and view other little ones in relation to mine. But as things are, I unreservedly appreciate the many babies and toddlers born to my friends and family members. Should we fail to conceive in the long run, I suspect the unique relationship we can enter into with others' children will be a real gift. No pride, competition, or vested interest. Just a detached (in the sense of objectivity, not lack of care) affection and concern.

Much better to get stuck into others' family life than to have friends assume you're bored in the company of children, or fail to include you in their family activities because you don't have your own. Bear this in mind, those blessed with children!

I am also really enjoying, in a way I never did before, being childless. Yes, let's go to that festival. Yes, let's spend that money. Yes, let's make sure I'm doing a job I actually want to be doing. Yes, let's stop putting off that thing I want to do. Yes, let's prune from life all that hinders its flourishing. Because, you know, this might be it. So let's enjoy it!

And, strangely, I am appreciating what it would mean to have a child much more than I did before I knew we couldn't grow one. It was just the next thing to be done, before. Now it is a thing that might happen, and if it did, it would be wonderful. I imagine, in an almost sensory way, enjoying a baby. Especially the way their heads smell! Before, I simply stressed about having one at an appropriate time and hoped I'd cope.

It's funny, really. I wouldn't say I've reached the stage where whatever happens, I'm content. But I would  go as far as to say that, whether we manage to get pregnant or not, I can see many reasons why the situation would be advantageous. Or blessed, depending on your viewpoint.

What's annoying......

Well, here is what I find annoying in relation to infertility:

• Being asked when you are going to have children
• Social occasions when it's obvious anyone other than children and their parents are considered utterly dull
• Complaints about how the church should be more welcoming to children. From where I sit, all it thinks about is children. And the unhealthy attention (which is basically about clinging on to the next generation in order to keep the institution alive) does the littluns more harm than good.
• Moaning about parenthood on public forums like Facebook. (It can be hard to deal with the positive stuff too but at least then the comment acknowledges good fortune!)
• Facebook profile pictures that are the person's child, not them. If you see your child as your identity, where does that leave those of us who have none?
• Certain questions from well-meaning friends and family, asking you to repeat something you know you have already explained to them about infertility. This is not an easy life situation - please bother to check the facts elsewhere if you forget what I said!
• Discussions about 'family life' that limit it to a parents-and-young-kids scenario
• Christian websites that talk about fertility but do not inform you of opportunities such as IVF because they think it's immoral.

Can't think of anything else for now. Good to have that lot off my chest, though!

Changes at IVF Wales. +10 months.

I was overseas with work for much of September, but Jon phoned Cardiff to arrange my appointment to discuss my HSG result. When I return home, a letter is waiting for me to say this will be on October 27 with a Dr Y.

Apparently, Dr X has left. Half of me is relieved because she wasn't at all agreeable. But the other half is perturbed because who knows what else has been disrupted in the process...

Hope for the best, I guess!

I am now 33 years old and we have been trying for a family for two years.

HSG. OMG. + 9 months

Well, that was not at all pleasant. No Sirree.

But it's over.

Can see exactly what Jon meant about Nevill Hall (it's where he produced his first sperm sample). The place is ugly, in need of a lick of paint, dark, claustrophobic, cluttered, mazelike.

I took in my urine sample, as requested, and was led from Jon and the waiting room to a tiled cubicle like those we used to change in as primary school swimmers. They gave me two gowns, and being ignorant I just put them on top of each other. (Apparently, the idea is you put one back to front so both sides of you are covered. But I managed to be modest even in the error of my ways.)

Then I took my little bag of clothes and my little body into this seemingly huge room, filled with monstrous apparatus and three women. Somehow, I had envisaged something smaller and neater. I was asked to lie on the bed, below a panel.

The oldest of the three women put a thing in me. Excuse the technical language. And then for what seemed like an eternity, one of the others tried to move me (remotely, via machines) and the x-ray machine into the optimum position. RRR. Not quite right. RRRR. No, not there. RRR up a bit. RRRR no you've taken her down. Etc.

[Excuse me but I have a massive thing stuck into my vagina and I'm wondering how long this is likely to take.... if she's a trainee, can someone just take over?]

So, we got there. And then they put a thin wire up into the thing that's in me.

The older lady explained that the wire hasn't really gone in properly, but she's going to try and inject the dye into my fallopian tubes anyway because the alternatives are very unpleasant. Great.

Praise the Lord, the dye got in. It was very uncomfortable, but also brief. A bit like a sudden onset of extreme period pain. One of the other younger women stood at my head comforting me, which was actually quite nice.

And then it was over. And the old lady asked me if I'm okay. And I said yes. And she asked if I can sit up. And I said yes. And she showed me the x-ray, which clearly demonstrates that the dye goes all the way along the tubes - ie all is well.

She also said that I have an anteverted womb. (Tipped forward, in other words). That is why it was difficult to get the wire in. But this is not seen as a problem in terms of fertility. I wonder if it is an increased obstacle to already dysfunctional sperm..... but just want to get out of there by now.

Bit shaky, out I went to Jon. Explained to him that he had to look after me for the rest of the day. This is not one of his strong points but never mind!

Keep your hair on! + 8 months

Bit of a nightmare getting this damned HSG in the diary.

The medical staff at Nevill Hall weren't happy with the fact the receptionist had arranged my xray for day 11 of my cycle. Obviously, that meant waiting another full month. And I was committed to some time away in London around the crucial days.

Now, because you can't firm up any appointment until your period starts, they usually refuse to schedule anything in until that day. (More fool you if it happens to be at the weekend!) But when I explained my predicament, the nice lady said she would 'provisionally' book me a place on July 29th.

My period started, as I had thought it would, on July 23rd. So far, so good. But when I called to confirm the appointment for the 29th, I was told there's no such thing as a provisional appointment and the slots are now all full until after my time window has closed.

Aaaaargh.

So, once again, I explained how regular my periods are and begged to schedule something in nice and early. She said "okay", so I now have an appointment booked for August 24th. And it is confirmed by letter! Please god.......

Good old GP. +7 months.

As ever, Dr Smith has turned around the smear results nice and quickly and today I have already heard from Abergavenny's Nevill Hall hospital (X-ray team) to say I need to contact them and arrange the time for my HSG.

You have to have these things done within a certain timeframe, ideally days 7 to 10 of your menstrual cycle. I phoned Nevill Hall. According to my predictions (and I'm pretty regular) days 7 / 8 will be a weekend and on day 9 I'll be of the country with work. Day 10 is a day of the week that they don't do HSGs. So, I have made an appointment for July 6th, which is actually Day 11 of my cycle. But they seem to think it's okay.

Paperwork to follow.

Smear campaign. + 6 months.

Well, I did as I was advised and contacted the GP to ask her to refer me to Gwent for an HSG.

Turns out it's been too long since my last smear test and I need one before I can get the xray. So, I must have the nurse run a smear in Chepstow. And then, when Dr Smith has those results back (provided they're clear) she can refer me on for the HSG.

We've got two weeks holiday coming up, so this will all have to wait until late June. Given that they tested me for chlamydia in October (a procedure identical to a smear test, as far as my nether regions could discern) I am a bit irritated by the delay. But then again, this HSG isn't altering our position on the ICSI waiting list, and by all accounts it is likely to come back clear anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

Smear appointment booked for June 20. Just Keep Calm and Carry On.

Second appointment. +5.5 months.

Was dreading seeing the sour Dr X again.....

She was a bit better this time. Slightly disconcerting lack of awareness of why we were sitting in front of her, but when we jogged her memory about the facts, she seemed to accept it graciously. Unlike last time.

She confirmed that we had been put on the waiting list for ICSI in November. Which means it must have happened immediately on receipt of our referral. Quite impressive, I must admit. She said the wait is about one year, which would mean us getting to the top of the list in November 2011.

Although there seem to be no issues with my body, she also recommended I go for an HSG (Hysterosalpingography) which is an xray of my fallopian tubes and womb, to check the pathway for sperm is clear. In her words, "You may as well". And then I go back and chat with her about the result. I guess it gives us a reason to stay in touch, if nothing else.

Irritatingly, the funding for IVF Wales doesn't cover me getting this test done there. It needs to be requested by my GP and done in Gwent (where Chepstow is) not Cardiff. So, I need to get back in touch with Dr Smith.

Must admit, the distribution of funding for all this is rather a mystery to me. Certainly, very little of the money is effectively spent on admin....... or decor. All these hospital rooms remind me of the corridors Mulder and Scully once explored by torchlight.

Sperm = bad. Result = good.

Thankfully, the analysis of Jon's sperm as done at Cardiff proved that they are indeed worthy of some ICSI-style assistance.

It was a bit of a worry, getting that second test done. It's now been 18 months since we started trying for a baby without any luck. If they'd turned around and set that, actually, the sperm weren't quite poor enough quality to justify the NHS paying for our fertility treatment,  I'm not sure if I would have coped!

The results were a little different: it seems the shape of the sperm is the only significant problem. Mobility was low, but not low enough on its own to bump us into the treatment category. At Abergavenny, the results had  indicated that mobility and shape were both issues. I think the test at IVF Wales is more thorough.

Another step closer, anyway. And proof that our lovely GP did get things right!

Sperm sample # 2. + 5 months.

So, Jon has been in again.....

Actually, it was better than the first time. He was given porn (pretty extreme stuff, I gather!) and a quiet room and a bit of respect. Another little step forwards.

Coping better?

I've spent quite a bit of time thinking and reflecting during Lent. Not just about the baby thing, but including that. As time passes, you can learn to approach something like infertility in a better way. Should you want to. You get used to the new game plan. And here my faith has been massively helpful.

It's so easy to get addicted to control, in our culture. Up until now, I approached life as if its direction depended on what choices I made, when. Not just little things like what juice to buy, but the big stuff too. I might not in every instance have got into the university / job I wanted. But I was responsible for choosing the one I got. Similarly with marriage partners, homes, etc etc. I was in control.

Suddenly, in this scenario, I realise I have minimal control over what will happen. It's horrible, at first. But I am beginning to feel that this isn't about losing control: it's about realising you never had it. A veil of unreality has been lifted. A lie has been discovered. I can't control everything. There are certain things I can do to influence the future. But much lies beyond the realms of my power.

There are also positive things about being "barren", in terms of spirituality. A state of waiting, of hopefulness, of not-there-yetness, of being the overlooked one and of standing in solidarity with others in that state, are all very scriptural and, ironically, very fruitful.

Perhaps most importantly, I can see now that any child I might bear is not really mine, born of my volition. Rather, it is a life I might be privileged to carry for a time. I hope that, if I ever do become pregnant, I will be able to hold onto that.

To speak or not to speak.

Some friends who're a few weeks pregnant are visiting. I feel bad we haven't told them our situation: they told us theirs even though they're not at 11 weeks yet.

I was chatting with Tash earlier and did feel there was a moment when I could share. But, somehow, it was too clunky. I am perfectly happy for them to know - they are good mates - but having just heard their good news, and how they've avoided telling certain friends they know are struggling to conceive for fear of upsetting them, it seemed to big a deal to announce our "issue".

People advise me to tell others when I want to, and not feel any obligation or guilt about it. But there is a sense of responsiblity, because I think the world would be a better place if everyone was more open about fertility struggles.

We do have another set of friends who have been trying to get pregnant for just a few months less than us, who we talk with. And now several family members know. I expect our indiscretion at New Year has led to word spreading a bit in Chepstow.

Hey ho. Sorry Tash. There just is no 'right' way to do these things.

First appointment at IVF Wales. +3.75 months.

Most frustrating day to date.....

The mass of information sent by IVF Wales confused, rather than enlightened, us. It contained directions to two different bits of Cardiff University Hospital but we failed to notice this and blithely headed for the wrong one. We left plenty of time, got there about 40 minutes early. Someone asked when our appointment was and, after we said 10am, left us in the waiting room.

A few people came and went. Eventually, a doctor called for someone else and noticed us. He checked our names and informed us we weren't expected. We proffered our appointment letter and discovered we were in the wrong place. By now we had ten minutes before our appointment time.

Frantically, getting lost once or twice, we got to where we were meant to be. Pretty wound up by now.

After we identified ourselves and waited for a while, I was called through to the consultant. A student was in the room with us. Dr X, how shall I put it.... Well, she had very little bedside manner. She told us our referral letter had been lost. Quite a blow when the GP was so careful about everything. She told us we needed to have the tests done again that we had already gone through and was derogatory about the reliability of the existing results (which, thankfully, we had with us.)

She refused to answer our concerns about waiting lists. She batted away our questions requesting clarity on what would happen next (she didn't explain anything very clearly) and seemed in a big rush to get us out of there. She rolled her eyes when asked to explain what ICSI was. The things promised in our information pack (offer of counselling, for example) were not mentioned.

The thing is, when someone is so unreasonable, you don't want to be demanding in case it affects your status on the waiting lists. We left feeling much more unsettled than we had done before. It was only by a stroke of luck that we managed to do the correct thing at reception (book another sperm analysis appointment for Jon) because Dr X had left us confused about whether she would do that, or we needed to.

Am taking the rest of the day off work.

Fourth chase = progress. + 3.5 months.

Here in my hand is notification of our initial appointment. It will be on March 16th, so that is exactly 16 weeks from referral - just meeting their deadline!

I had called them again a couple of days ago to chase and I think that may have got things moving. (Seems the monthly calls were an okay strategy.) The letter comes with an absolute shedload of info - most of which is not relevant or not helpful. But it is here, anyway.

My bosses now know about the situation. I had a bit of a tearful moment with both of them when I opened up, and was taken by surprise by the emotion again! They were very good about it, and said I should feel free to prioritise these matters over work duties.

I feel very blessed in that regard. Many people must struggle to fit in appointments and juggle pressures from work alongside the stress of the fertility procedures. I know I will be met with understanding, however the timings work out.

Just hope nothing disrupts Christian Aid Week!!

Third chase. + 2.5 months.

Good old Jon pursued IVF Wales just now, after I got really worked up with them yesterday. I sat on the phone forever and a day, only to be re-routed to the back of the queue every time I reached the front and selected the "appointments / waiting list" option.

You know there are moments when you want to throw a plate or stab yourself in the leg? Well, I had one of those. When they happen, I think they scare Jon into action and quite often we get somewhere ; )

So, eventually he got hold of a nice lady called Sian who gave us her direct dial. She also told us the waiting list for initial appointment is actually 14 - 16 weeks, so it's not that we've been forgotten. And our referral has definitely been received.

Praise the Lord! Now we have a new deadline to work towards so I can readjust my expectations. And stop worrying about whether I'm failing (to be demanding enough)......

Second chase.

It was Jon's turn to ring Cardiff again today, now the Christmas break is up. Still no joy. I seem to remember GP told us wait was 6 - 8 weeks for first appointment, and we're at that now.

It's difficult to stay calm when you can't get hold of anyone who will explain to you what the state of play is, or the rules of the game. It has been very difficult to get through to anyone at IVF Wales on the phone, as well. There is a call queuing system but sometimes when you get to the front, you are sent back to the start again.

I expect this is fairly normal NHS stuff. We're lucky enough never to have dealt with it before.

The problem is that one wants to be proactive and keep pursuing the matter. But each chase and each phone call raises the stress levels, which is not to be recommended. My aim is to keep myself as calm as possible, and continue to enjoy my life. Calling monthly is our current battle plan. We'll see how we go....

Tongues loosened. + 1.5 months

Drunken and fun New Year led to us spilling our hearts out to a couple of people we barely know, and another we don't know at all!

First time I've felt totally at ease discussing the fact we can't pop a sprog. Odd, isn't it? The 'stranger' couple said they'd had a long wait before getting pregnant. And I know another couple at the party suffered at least one miscarriage. In fact, I'm conscious of quite a lot of people who have struggled with fertility and childbearing.

Given that, I can't see why I hear so many conversations like this:
"So, how many kids would you like?"
"Oh I don't know, 2 or 3"
"Planning on starting a family soon?"
"Not yet, possibly in a year or so when we're settled at work and have bought a new house."

And none like this:
"So, how many kids would you like?"
"Oh, I don't know. We'll have to see what happens. Any would be lovely."
"Planning on starting a family soon"
"We'll probably stop using contraception in the next few months but that doesn't mean anything will happen."