babybaby

2012-02-08T09:43:00.002+10:00

don't feel like blogging but putting some things on record...dec cycle no good of course. january fsh 18ish so had a month to travel. got a test while o/s and fsh 7.2, but I still suspect that might have been the dodgy foreign clinic. too good to be true. anyway when I got back things went pearshaped fast; follicle failed to grow, then I started to bleed; diagnosis premature lutenization. so now waiting up to four weeks to start again, that is if the hormone levels settle enough to start. it's February. have pretty much lost all hope. just doing the things that I promised myself I'd do.

saw psychologist for first time yesterday and basically wept for an hour. trying not to now so will be brief. at heart, I don't WANT to adjust to not getting this child.

fuck. it.

2011-12-25T09:23:00.002+10:00

Christmas. have headache. got video of A being unbelievably excited about his giant Lego kit. went back to bed, which I never, ever, ever do. girding myself for inlaws long boring lunch. starting to think Christmas isn't as much fun as it should be.

on Twitter have just heard that a friend - who has a chronic disease - is going to have a second child. he is my age, and had been unsure about the second kid thing.

feeling achy and extremely premenstrual. day 13 po - wondering if the progesterone will even hold it back this time. test in two days. then I am going to ride and swim like crazy. but probably not drink. the reduced sugar diet seems to be suiting me, though I have just eaten toast and jam with tea because of headache.

it keeps appearing in front of me, this dream, and then fading away.

test on Tuesday morning. will get call probably on way to my extended family event. there will be babies there too, but that's ok. it's harder to begrudge babies one is genetically related to.

in six months and three days I will no longer qualify for IVF with my own eggs.

2011-12-23T13:27:00.000+10:00

ok, so wasted some time looking at charting info online and in my book...a triphasic pattern isn't essential to be pg. but I'm sure I was when I got pregnant nine years ago.

better shut up now. driving self crazy.

2011-12-23T13:06:00.002+10:00

temperature not doing anything it didn't do on the non-tx cycle. not even with the progesterone. I know what this means. I'm still trying not to over-exercise, which creates its own anxieties - it's Christmas after all, I'd like to eat and not stack on 3 kg doing it.

as soon as it dawned that the temps were no good, all the regrets and angers that the hope had been keeping at bay came flooding back. that, and a bit of annoyance that now I will have to have an opu and transfer in the middle of our one week at the beach this summer. fuggit.

but mostly the grief. the lost child that was probably lost from the second I felt that lump. maybe even if I'd been on the first flight home it would still have been lost. I don't know.

and we have school hols and I have lots of time with my little boy, and it's not that he's not enough. it's that I have always wanted that other one. particularly a daughter.

I wouldn't swap him for the world, or a million daughters, now that I have him.

2011-12-15T06:50:00.002+10:00

of all the inconveniences this stuff involves - the appointments at 7am, the waiting rooms, the juggling, even the injections - the one that gets to me most is the NOT EXERCISING.

yesterday morning I woke at 4.30 am and did a 3-hour ride before nine. that was a bit OTT, but many days I do an hour, hour and a half. I also swim every afternoon for half an hour. I have, after all, had cancer. I like exercise. and I have enough 45-year-old vanity to enjoy not putting on weight and having muscles in my legs and stomach.

and I wouldn't mind losing all that if it was for a baby (well, I'd mind but I'd accept it). But to stop exercising is hard - I'm basically addicted - and to do a 30 minute nanna ride like I did this morning, a glorious early summer morning, hurts. I forced myself to change down gears rather than push harder; I did some stretches after 15 minutes and came home. and this is the right thing to do - not stop, but to tone it right down so I don't overheat/get exhausted. but after yesterday's ride, I felt so good. addict.

in other thoughts, googled implantation issues last night. came across the info that a big problem with embies from older women is the mitochondria, which basically give out before implantation can happen. embies divide normally to start with then run out of puff. some of the vitamins the naturopath had me on: co-enzyme Q10 in particular - are supposed to help with that. sigh. big sigh. it's going to be a long 13 days.

2011-12-14T20:39:00.002+10:00

resisting doing the happy dance.

people - including ivf dr - seem to expect it of me. but until I am pregnant there is no reason to.

still, it is better than nothing: TWO embies. considering I'm 45 and had an FSH of 25 two months ago, this isn't bad. yay yucky tonic and lack of sugar.

one four celled, another two celled and possibly more as they said it had "come on" since yesterday. Grade 2.

both of course transferred. with 100:1 odds per emby, what the hell. test due on the 28th; I may test a day early, already juggling the next 2 cycles to make sure they don't fuck my life up too much. secret plan to go to India for a week by MYSELF is looking very shaky but may happen. it depends on a lot, and a lot of things I don't really want to happen. but India would be nice. baby nicer.

dr was running late; just made it to acupuncture a few mins late. seeing new naturopath on Saturday. did massive bike ride this morning which I told myself was the last one for a year. got to keep the rides down to half an hour of gentle riding, and the swims will have to be slow, like floating. not sure I can give up cold water altogether. might try to stay out tomorrow at least.

now it's bedtime and the joy of Clex. Clexane, that is. the ouchy injection. ah well. eight weeks ago I was dying to be injecting Clexane.

oh, and dh? has not asked me how it went. doesn't have a clue if a transfer even happened. has his sister over tonight. is a complete incompetent when it comes to emotional support. I mean, really. has not even said "how did you go?" fuckwit.

still I am in good mood due to ridiculous faint hope.

2011-12-13T16:02:00.001+10:00

so I have a transfer appointment tomorrow. and a new naturopath appointment on Saturday.

don't know if there are one or two embies. don't know if it/they will even make it to transfer. do know that the implantation rate at my age is negligible. sigh.

2011-12-13T13:12:00.001+10:00

interestingly, the locum seems to have made my uterus less hurty than the dr I adore.

opu report: 11.30 Monday, two eggs - an improvement over last time's empty follice.

now it's 2.15 pm and I am waiting for a call to tell me if there is going to be a transfer tomorrow. and trying to rein in any stupid optimism as it's clearly unwarranted.

all I am doing really is allowing myself to exist in hope rather than despair. I'm not actually going to get anywhere.

waiting.

2011-12-02T11:17:00.001+10:00

it's been a bit ugly on the emotional/marriage front.

but this post is about how pathetically hopeful I am.

latest Day 2 (today) FSH level: 10.6. this is practically NORMAL.

I am living in great hope. and anxiety about when the next procedure will be, and if I'll meet my deadline just before xmas.

but mostly hope. pathetic.

those potions and pills must be doing something. will be munching my nuts and sorting my medicines more cheerfully for a week or 2 anyway...

2011-11-21T08:45:00.002+10:00

not a great weekend.

call from dr while I was at my parents' place. emby formed but was no good. three nuclei or dna strands or something. she said "they only put one sperm in" which makes me wonder if they put two in.

so I was devastated. Dh had forgotten to put a bag in the car that I'd asked him to five minutes before we left. I had to ask him or walk back and forth with heavy bags, the post-opu discomfort was pretty bad.

of course he hadn't. and it had my bathers in it. and all I wanted, so much, was to get in the water as soon as we got away from my family. and it was 1 1/2 hours drive to home, hungry and in distress. and he made it all about me "putting a guilt trip on him". and didn't even ask, once, what the dr had said though he knew she'd called (he claimed I'd said I'd tell him later, but I didn't. he misheard the doctor's name, but anyway, he could have showed an interest once we got away from family.

so I basically wept and raged all the way home, particularly once the kid was asleep in the back. dh refused to discuss my anger - basically said we had to talk about it later, and I so needed help and sympathy then, in that car, that minute.

and between that, Hong kong and the lack of care and interest during the emby transfers last year, I've realised I cannot, and shouldn't have, relied on him to take care of me when I'm sick, under pressure or distressed. he makes me ask for help, which I resent, and then he interprets my less than gracious requests as a criticism, and of course his pride is more important than maybe just helping me.

he could have treated this whole thing as a chance to prove he wasn't the person he was in hong kong, that I could trust him with my life and my needs.

but I can't. not now, not ever. I'm in this alone, for life.

and I wonder if we will get even one emby worth transferring, let alone one that will implant. and the process is getting more physically painful, time-consuming and hopeless as it goes on. but what else is there for me to do. give up hope altogether? give up my daughter, the one I still dream of, or Alexander's little brother?

going to stop now before I cry again. got work to do. work is a saviour sometimes.

2011-11-19T08:01:00.002+10:00

quick opu report.

stupid fasting, scan at 8, met naturopath who has quit work but wanted to give me my herbs at 9.30....into clinic at 10, opu 10:40.

cannulation uncomfortable, but at least I went under properly this time and wasn't conscious like last time. very sore abdomen, walking slowly, slept for two hours on and off in the afternoon.

there were two follicles, but only one egg. don't know why yet.

will get a call sometime today giving me a tx time. this will not guarantee that there is an emby. they are doing icsi but it still may not bel clear if there's an emby until tomorrow.

sigh. dh said in the car going home yesterday that he felt optimistic about this one. I pointed out that that was only because there was so little hope a month ago.

still, at present time there is 1 egg, a couple of hundred million - accordion to Wikipedia! - sperm - and no news puts us in the "maybe" box.

odd that now and for all the 2wws, if I don't get pregnant, I'm not pregnant now - but if I do get pregnant, I am pregnant now, technically. as pregnant as you can be when your egg is 5 kilometres away...

2011-11-17T14:46:00.001+10:00

damn fucking MRI...stupid one hour drive there, 45 minutes back. noise. discomfort. humiliation. more noise. lying still on my front with my arms extended for 35 minutes until my right arm goes to sleep so badly it hurts, then goes utterly dead.

fucking stupid. can I just say that?

anyway it was fine, completely clear, blah blah. score one for surgeon, zero for panic merchant radiologists.

of course as I said to dh, I'm now back where I was on Tuesday morning. but it makes me feel a bit more optimistic. maybe this is a turning point. maybe the pickup will work, there'll be an emby and I'll get pregnant.

damn stupid waste of time when I could be WORKING! have a book to finish.

mutter...not dying...mutter.

2011-11-15T12:57:00.001+10:00

eight cycles: four weeks each of oestrogen tablets, and two weeks of progesterone pessaries.

2011-11-15T12:56:00.002+10:00

I am spinning. tearful, afraid, anxious. spinning. and I know this feeling from seven years ago. I'd forgotten it, but here it is.

2011-11-15T12:52:00.002+10:00

driving to the coast today to surf, which I shouldn't have done but I'm glad I did...I had a talk to the universe, wondering if it was that I hadn't let myself admit that I really want this - a baby - and that's why it hasn't happened. and I confessed, aloud, that I did, and I do, and I asked if I wasn't doing everything required of me. now. now, when it's too late. (pickup of the one decent egg is scheduled for Friday, tx for Sunday if it fertilises.)

then later, there was a missed call from my breast surgeon's office. I thought it must have been about an appointment change for next year. this afternoon I finally accessed my voicemail as I'm with a new provider and it took a while.

it was a message from the actual surgeon, saying she'd like to talk to me about the "left mammogram". this is the call. it can't be. it might be. she was consulting when I rang back. now I just have to wait.

at the very least it will mean some sort of further investigations. I have an opu scheduled for Friday. at the worst, it's the worst. that's not supposed to happen.

fuck, haven't I had enough of this shit? of this surgery and fear and loss of body parts and potential children? haven't I?

2011-11-12T10:17:00.000+10:00

eight years ago today I had a baby.

seven years ago today I was told I had cancer.

I am still alive. My boy is eight and loves Lego. My ovaries hurt.

these are all pertinent facts of my life. as is a four-hour party this afternoon, w. a megataxi ride, arcade games, pancake parlour meal and then inlaws in the evening...

2011-11-10T10:15:00.002+10:00

ouch. the frozen cycles were a few thousand dollars, with about $800 out of pocket thanks to health insurance covering the hospital component (they don't cover the IVF but Medicare does, mostly)

but this cycle - full IVF with ICSI because my Dr is throwing everything at us, it seems, is a total of 8,000-plus. after rebates we will be paying $3,360. husband does not know this yet. husband already thinks we spend too much. but frankly there is money invested that he can draw on and if it means one less ocean cruise when we're old, well tough.

but gee wouldn't it be nice to get a baby out of all this? :(

first hormone shot last night, puzzling out the complicated needle system. then had to spend an hour of work time going in to get more of the magic naturopath tonic. lots of acupuncture next week, a scan booked. might as well kiss my book deadline goodbye.

gee, wouldn't it be nice....

2011-11-08T11:02:00.002+10:00

well. interesting. rather pleasing, as far as straws in a tsunami of bad news go...

blood test this morning, feeling depressed about the waste of time etc (2 flat bike tyres, a return home for more tubes and a rainstorm on the way in - I looked like a drowned rat in the waiting room!).

but the nurse called just now and said I have a fsh of 16. this is of course ridiculously high. dr had said "15 or lower" but she's letting me go ahead. all I know is that I have cleared one hurdle.

so maybe the herbs and pills and acupuncture work. I mean, my last 2 readings were 23.5 and 25. 16 is really good, comparatively. and the main thing is that I am now officially in a cycle. I have a scan next Monday morning at 7 (!) am and will know then if I get to egg collection, let alone transfer.

nearly out of the special herbal gunk. got to stretch it out until I get more Thursday afternoon.

fsh 16 and 45 years old. for some people this would be unthinkable. for me, it's a tiny ray of hope. and I *know* hope is crack with a hell of a comedown. but I'm basking in it for a moment.

2011-10-31T09:46:00.002+10:00

I should not be blogging. I should be working on the manuscript, or cleaning the toilet, or something else useful.

I am still not really taking in what has happened. I am, though, taking in some truly disgusting naturopathy tonics. that FSH had f-ing better be down.

charting again, with no clarity yet as to where I am; hoping it will be a normal 28-day cycle.

went to a kid's science museum yesterday with the child. place was of course infested with pregnant women and small babies.

looked briefly at a New York fertility service that offers paid egg donors. why am I torturing myself like this?

2011-10-27T15:43:00.004+10:00

lots more herbs given today by naturopath. bet they all taste FOUL.

sigh. off to get kid then rush off to acupuncture.

absolutely no point discussing husband situation. he still at base wants me to just be nice to him. he does not get it. not even a bit. I don't know what I want. well, I do, I want a baby. but I don't know if what has happened, and his way of dealing with it, is going to be the last straw.

sigh.

2011-10-27T15:43:00.002+10:00

link

2011-10-24T08:28:00.002+10:00

midnight notes from the bedside notebook:

scratching at my flesh, thinking: it's not enough. I'd need to cut a leg off for it to be enough.
and those cliched internal conversations happening for real: "you should have done more" (to myself), "you shut up"...and so on.

things to talk to psychologist about (have to get a referral next week):

running my life by avoiding regret - but it still comes because you can't anticipate everything, and priorities and imperatives seem to change.

and not having a very good relationship with the world. a lot of anger and resentment and constantly being reminded of what isn't.

Unkind thoughts about people I see. particularly people with babies.

2011-10-24T08:20:00.002+10:00

strange the things that really hurt. trying to fill out my application form for a PhD next year. and all I can think is, I don't want to be doing this, I want to be pregnant instead. I can't even tell whether I want to do the PhD or not, it's just a blur. I just want to be pregnant instead. this was Plan B. I want Plan A.

struggling a lot with husband's role in all this: with the cancer being worse in the first place because of what happened in Hong Kong; with him not participating as he should have over the past year; with the times he caused me stress or just left me to do all the work during the past year; with the cycle I cancelled because he was inconsiderate when I had a migraine; with all of it really. it doesn't help that I am going to see the plastic surgeon this afternoon to talk about reconstruction. that, too could have been avoided by him just once in Hong Kong getting a clue, finding me a dr and taking me there. so much time and pain and general horribleness could have been avoided by him taking better care of me.

what gets me is that this could have been avoided, and he doesn't seem to have learned. that is what really gets me. just this past fortnight of course he is all trying to be helpful, doing tasks I"ve been asking him to do for ages. but I just find that pathetic and it makes me sadder. too little too late, when it could have been avoided.

of course a lot of it is my fault too. I should have found a dr. I should have done more this past year. but to be honest, I was psychotic with exhaustion in Hong Kong. I knew no one. I was there for his work, and trying not to ask too much of him because he was tired too. and this past year, I was trying to hold down a part-time job and have a life beyond IVF; I did a lot, but he did very little at all, and that extra he could have done, in research and in helping me, could have made the difference. I'll never know.

keep thinking that I should have had Clexane earlier. I adore my dr, but it seems like a simple thing, and if it doesn't hurt, why not throw it at the problem when implantation was the most important thing in the process, given the embies were supposedly the last.

were the last. there won't be more. I know I'm kidding myself with a fsh of 25 at 45 to think all the cards will fall into place. getting that fsh down is probably impossible, and only the the first step.

so not coping very well, no.

2011-10-18T18:09:00.002+10:00

two days into my naturopath diet; lots of protein, little sugar. I will probably feel great after a fortnight. but really all I can think about is how I should have done this before. also lots of expensive pills.

this is the stuff I need to talk to a counsellor or psych about...this being driven by regret, or avoiding regret. because regret is generally retrospective; if I had known I'd feel like this maybe I"d have worked harder at it. but I really thought maybe, just maybe, it might work. and it didn't.

not having a very good relationship with the world right now. angry and envious and generally pissed off at what has happened.

the next two blood tests will be crucial; if the FSH hasn't gone down on the next one, it might on the one after once I've been back to the naturopath in November for herbs. also have an acupuncture appointment Friday, and hoping to make that regular.

all takes so much time. time I don't really have. but that was why I didn't go in as hard as I could have earlier; trying to maintain a normal life. there are just over seven months left...

half the time I feel like crying.

2011-10-14T16:48:00.002+10:00

hear that? that's the sound of a plot thickening.

dr rang last night: FSH 25. this is very bad. no cycle this time.

only hope now is that FSH is high because of the non-ovulatory cycle I've just done (it's an indication that the pituitary gland isn't getting the right oestrogen signals from the ovaries and is pumping up the stimulation) and that it will be back to an acceptable level, i.e. <15, next month.

this is all looking not so hopeful. strangely not as upset as I was. maybe it's that tiny dose of hope...I dunno. loving my boy so much it scares me.

2011-10-13T16:50:00.002+10:00

well, this is probably madness. despite dr clearly explaining the following: 5 % chance of any emby at all. 1% chance of that even implanting. 50-60 chance of it then miscarrying...we are in a new antagonist cycle, with two lots of needles and a

i had a scan, and there is in fact, on day 5, a small follicle forming. this is a good sign. so I did the FSH blood test - I was supposed to get the results tonight but haven't, so I'm going to go ahead and start the injections anyway.

have also made new acupuncture and naturopath appointments, have a blood test Sat and maybe Sunday, a scan monday and will have to do egg pickup sometime late next week/early the week after. all of which means I will never get the work I have to do done.

but I don't care. maybe I need to do this to prove to myself there is actually no hope. those odds are odds; until we try, we don't know how they specifically apply to me.

my dr said it's "not unreasonable" to proceed. she deals in these odds all the time. we'll see...

2011-10-11T15:13:00.002+10:00

I know this woman. She's a couple of years younger than me; we met in writing class at uni maybe five years ago.
She's been doing IVF since, I think, just before we met. She has been through miscarriages, egg donation, pretty much the works. A couple of months ago her last two embies (of four; two failed to thaw) gave her a biochemical pg with no heartbeat.
I went to the launch of a book she has a piece in on Sunday, bleeding myself from that last failed cycle. I couldn't stay; the speeches about miscarriage were too much for me. She told me later by email that she'd started crying when she tried to read her piece aloud. She was fine with me having left; said it was amazing I'd turned up at all. She's like that.
And I wish I could have had a spare emby to give her. I am grateful that I have her to talk to. I'm also a bit guilty that I am so upset about my embies not working when she has no child. I wonder sometimes if a tiny, tiny bit of the reason I need her friendship is to remind me that there are people worse off than me; the gulf between one child and none is a different order of things to the gulf between one and two.

I am, currently, reeling. Bewildered. Prone, in quiet moments when I let myself focus on it all, to sudden sharp gasps and small quiet howls. I am full of regret, anger and what ifs. I want a time machine, to go back and do acupuncture, bed rest and other things for every single damn emby, not just the last two. I want to go back to before I went to Hong Kong and get the cancer caught then. I can't believe all eight of them are used up.

At another level, I'm marshalling my arguments. I don't see, even with the admittedly low odds, why I shouldn't be allowed to try another fresh cycle. Right now. Not next month, not when I've had a chance to process things. My IVF provider doesn't do fresh cycles after the 46th birthday. I have 7 1/2 months to try. I want to start on THIS cycle. If we get any to freeze, I want to freeze them then do another fresh cycle. I want to give those damn, frustrating, random odds that beset my life another roll.

2011-10-09T16:18:00.003+10:00

what I will say about this is that I have a review with the dr on Thursday, which is Day 5, and I am going to ask to go straight into a new egg-harvesting cycle, right then, that day.

they don't treat women over 45. God knows what the chemo has done to my ovaries (another regret/resentment about the fact dh didn't help me more when I was ill in Hong Kong - that could have been avoided, as could the extra time wasted.) But I am still 45 for eight more months and I am damn well going to at least see what happens if I do a cycle.

and I am not thinking about what I may have done wrong these past eight frozen cycles, or about how much more care I should have taken. not now.

2011-09-23T14:30:00.001+10:00

quick blog for reasons of time and not wanting to dwell: argument with dh last night about general lack of interest in helping me out; came home from supposed "rest" pre tx to a messy house and pasta without even a vegetable in sight for dinner. so didn't sleep well and woke too early...

dh came to tx with me. then I rushed off to acupuncture

embryo 2 cells only, down from three. so basically not much good.

just been trying to work out if it's OK to swim. which I've been doing all along of course. of course it is. but I am so fucking anxious, depressed and teary. I am already grieving, I think.

testing a day early on 6/10.

2011-09-20T14:45:00.002+10:00

I should be blogging everything I know but it's all such a mishmash of regrets and whatifs and mostly anticipatory disappointment.

doing lots of acupuncture. did ovulate last cycle. so the timelines were thrown out and I'll be doing the 2ww right through school holidays, often a notably nap-free time. that is of course if we even get to that point.

meanwhile still semi-lying to my friends with vaguenesses about stress and acupuncture to avoid their invitations to go out. I should be pleased, but I feel, rather, a bit besieged. their kids are older, in particular my best friend. for years I kept up the friendship before I had kids while hers were little. now I have a little kid and she is at a loose end, she seems not to make allowances for that. and of course she can't make allowances for the IVF because she doesn't know about it and on the basis of the reaction I anticipate from her - probably not the most sensitive person in the world - I just don't want to share it with her.

and wondering what's next, if there's any hope for a further cycle, wishing I hadn't let my ovaries get nuked during chemo. wishing a lot. and still holding in my mind my daughter's name.

2011-08-15T14:12:00.002+10:00

I don't know why I'm even blogging right now. possibly because the rain is coming down outside, I'm too sick (cold) to swim and it's too wet to ride, so what else can I do?

possibly I'm getting a bit depressed. repeated negatives (the seventh was a neg, of course, despite all the injections and acupuncture and drugs and rest), the lowered levels of exercise, the restrictions on my social life, and other stresses which normally I would cope with but come in addition to the IVF stress; all these add up. ideally I'd be spending this week madly riding and swimming and sometimes drinking to make up for the enforced non-ness of the two week wait, but instead I'm sick. can't even take comfort in the fact I've lost a little weight, as it's not a good idea to lose more weight now anyway - usually I'd treat a kilo drop as a head start and try to lose more, but I'm skinny enough as it is from a getting pg pov.

and the constant pressure - it really does feel like a physical pressure - of what is likely to come, of the call that will be our eighth negative and the last ever - sits on me, ready to bring me down every time I take notice of it.

the time for being upbeat and hopeful is probably over. if the final one works, it will be a miracle and I'll be very pleased. but statistically and realistically, the chances are it won't. it may not even thaw.

taking a few weeks off because there's a lot booked in socially these next few weeks, then doing a scan early September and if there's no action reproductively speaking, will start a cycle that will lead to a test late September. was feeling ready to tell a couple of close friends what's going on, but when we met up, it was all banal and surface conversation and I just didn't say anything. have email/seen rarely friends whom I can confide in.

what can I say? it all sucks. it's been a hard year, particularly emotionally. I have a beautiful boy who came to see me in my bed this morning and let me tickle his feet. when I was in the shower he stood outside the door and played recorder for me. we're taking him skiing in two weeks, which wouldn't be happening if I was pregnant.

but one of his friends also teases him about not having a sibling (the friend has separated parents and major insecurity issues, so it's not my son's problem as such). and if we don't score on the final round, at some point we will have to explain it's never going to happen. cousins, friends, school playmates: they are all good. but they're not siblings.

really all I want today is for this *&*(&^& cold to go away so I can get on with the normal life I'm supposed to have between cycles, distract myself with exercise and work on getting healthy for the final assault on Mount Baby.

2011-08-03T14:07:00.001+10:00

had sardines for lunch. this means nothing.

2011-07-25T15:03:00.002+10:00

blah blah blah.

another hour of acupuncture, and I trot in for tx to be told the emby is sitting there like a 3-celled jellyfish, not dividing.

it was only thawed the night before, but still...a 15-17% chance, which is about one in six.

and yet I have all this support and rest and injections and not-exercising and so on and so forth mapped out.

so there's nothing I can do but follow the program. seems such a shame to have saved the all-out run for the bitter end, doesn't it?

dr said as I left "I don't feel that we're just going through the motions". But I sort of do.

so I had better make that followup appointment I suppose. now two weeks to test day.

2011-07-22T20:15:00.002+10:00

yes so clearly that one didn't work.

it did so in an extra annoying way; a slight bleed on day 10 of 2ww, then a reading of 6 (!) on the test, necessitating another test. all quite horribly upsetting, etc, etc.

so we are down to 2, and those of a lower grade. various personal and at-husband meltdowns mean we are both trying to set aside the next two weeks for me to Rest and Be Treated.

I'm now doing acupuncture; not wussy gp acupuncture with lasers, but full needles, lie-in-a-dark-room-"relaxing"-for-a-frigging-HOUR acupuncture. it's putting a massive hole in my working life, as if I had a working life with all this.

I'll be going away 3 days of next week after transfer. supposed to then rest the following weekend. of course inlaws chose that week to decide to come to town. much angst there; husband says he'll deal with it but even having him off seeing them puts extra pressure on me. and mil sent me an email expressing "hope" she'd be seeing me. well, no. this is the pointy end of this slow nightmare and I'm not doing a jot more than I have/want to. actually that's how I normally feel, just now I have a fab excuse. except of course I don't want to tell them what's going on - very few people know - so they'll just think I'm (more of a) bitch.

also of course, the council is going to make a decision on a huge development next door asap, probably 2 days after the 2ww, so a lot of stress there.

oh, and dr, completely randomly, has prescribed me some anti-coagulants for this cycle, for, she says, no medically proven reason. they require self-injection, which I have managed until now to avoid. I don't have a lot of fat to jab a needle into day after day.

therefore, one is feeling quite sorry for oneself. one should be visualising little red satin snuggly womb-cots for the emby. one should be imagining cuddling a newborn. one finds both of those images too painful, freighted as they are with the prospect of them simply not happening.

transfer Monday. Test August 8. # 7 of 8.

2011-06-28T10:14:00.001+10:00

also, this blog is now more than 10 years old. which means this getting pregnant thing has been going on for 10 years.

2011-06-28T10:06:00.002+10:00

transfer a week ago; 4 cells down to three and then back up to four.

but have had episodes of stress and just general too much to do-ness since the day of the transfer, have zero symptoms and am pre-emptively disappointed.

which means I have two embies left, at most, assuming they both thaw. and though dr says it doesn't matter much, am very aware that those two were of the lowest grade.

for the next one, which may well be the last, am going to go away for a few days after transfer and just sit in front of the fire. have also chased up a local acupuncture place - I've been going to my gp about once a week during the pre-transfer period, but I think it might be good to go to a fertility specialist acupuncturist.

sigh. meanwhile have to keep my exercise levels down, not drink, take my pills and pessaries.

tres boring.

2011-05-18T09:09:00.003+10:00

I should be getting ready for work, but I am grabbing a chance to blog in the hope it will sort my head out.

all the biopsies (fucking general a's, I hate them), bloods, etc etc showed up nothing. so there's two cycles wasted.

and now, due to my husband's utter selfishness and inability to be empathetic, I am

it's a long story around my asking for an afternoon to do some work on Sunday, then getting the start of a migraine, letting him know about that, yet just after I had said "I've taken two major painkillers and I'm going to try to have a sleep" - a sleep, caffeine and a swim being the best way to nip my migraines the bud - SECONDS after that he got a text from a friend and announced he wanted to go to a music even THAT DAY AT 4 PM!

which I said was unfair and pointed out what bad timing it was to even ask such a thing, as for him to go at four I'd have to be worried about waking up early to get in the water and look after A. in time. and that kind of pressure makes napping impossible for me.

and instead of addressing the issue and saying it was OK, he was happy not to go, or that he'd take A. with him, he made a snarky comment implying what a bitch I was - defensiveness in action, no empathy for the way he knew I was feeling.

result: I was miserable, cried, got upset, couldn't sleep and the migraine took hold deep in my skull. so I have had it for four days now, through a period when I have had to do two public talks, run two classes, write 1000 words of creative stuff and present that to the class I've been in all semester. I am in real pain and can't think properly. he seems not to realise how painful and mentally debilitating these headaches are - I run my life by thinking on my feet and when I have them I can hardly speak - and not to care about simply helping me with something I'd had booked in all week (I'd taken A out of town overnight Friday and all of Saturday, so it's not like he hadn't any free time.).

other result: I am feeling so pressured in my life with the inability to cope that something has to give. and my work and other commitments are rock-solid promises. Also, I have swallowed so many Voltaren, aspirin, panadol and Nurofen that my teeth ache and I am constipated and woozy above and beyond the headache. the three icepacks are on high rotation and I have nothing to give beyond what I must. I particuarly have no desire to have any kind of sex with the dickhead who landed me in this (seriously, if he'd just shut up and worked it out for himself like a responsible adult on Sunday instead of landing it on me like I was going to drop my work and wish my headache away, I'm sure the headache would have been dealt with then, or at least not developed as viciously as it had. )

end result: I am on the verge of cancelling the first proper cycle since the one that got me a negative in March. one part of me wants to soldier on but I know it's the sensible thing to do; it frees up so much time, so many appointments and restrictions on my diet, exercise and frankly, alcohol consumption. once I'm better I am going to have a proper destressing drink with my girlfriends.

it's my 45th birthday next week. it would have been nice to be pg for it. but being in the 2ww for it is another matter. also I have an oncologist checkup the day before what would be transfer day. finding out I have possible recurrence with an emby on board and/or defrosted and ready to go is not what I need.

but the IVF dr (took 24 hours to reach her on the phone) is going away in late June. she wants me to wait and see if I get my period naturally, but that may push the tx into the time she's away, so she's reluctantly sending me some drugs to bring it on for that week I'd need to restart. Losing one month to get my head straight is one thing, but losing two would make it FOUR MONTHS WITH NOTHING HAPPENING and I'm not sure I'm OK with that. A month will take me past the time I'm teaching, and though I'll be busy, it'll be easier to work around the IVF. also I can restart a cycle, building the lining and all that, without a body full of nasty pills, and with the time and energy to eat better.

and I have no hope of husband somehow improving his game. I just need to decide if I can live with someone who acts as if my illness is an optional thing, who doesn't ever stop and think before he does exactly what suits him. I never mention the word divorce or leaving him to him. that is not a good way to play these things. but I think about it when I realise how this is going to be a recurring pattern all my life: having to fight for things he should offer me freely. having to shout at him to get him to see how much pain I'm in.

bugger. what a depressing post. suppose I should pick up the phone and start cancelling...

2011-05-06T11:16:00.004+10:00

reading damn articles on illness and dying for the uni subject I'm teaching. very good writing, but not necessarily my first choice of topic. /understatement/

this morning's joy was a 7.30 am scan (woke at 6 to get to that), confirming that my lining is nice and ready; had to also do a blood test in which the first attempt yielded nothing. weird.

this is all in aid, not of another cycle, but of a general anaesthetic next Monday afternoon, in order to let the dr get a good go at my uterine lining, including a look around for scarring. (this is because the Very Painful Biopsy last month was both painful and unsuccessful, so we had to start a new cycle to do a look under anaesthetic.)

extra joy; no food or drink all day, then being knocked out. and as no one apart from two friends knows I'm doing this, I get no slack from friends/work/other associates needing my time. and had to specifically ask dr's permission to wear a soft bra and prosthetic into theatre, because I know the nurses would make me take it off otherwise. and stupid as it is, that's my bottom line for dignity; looking normal at least.

the bloods - immune, genetic - all came back clear. so it's just the uterus that's suspect. or bad luck. still three chances left; a friend (one of the two) has just had probably her final negative, and she's got no children. so I should just shut up really.

should be impatient as this procedure delays me another month. but with only three left, I am in no hurry to use them up and face what I may have to face.

oh, and I turn 45 this month. habby birfday, me.

really, I'm doing OK. incredibly busy, just getting through one to-do list at a time...

2011-04-18T11:55:00.002+10:00

and then there were three...

the negative was pretty horrible as I was so sure I was pregnant. starting to hate the nurse with the oversympathetic manner. and with so few left, it seems increasingly likely that all of this will be for nothing. not sure how I will take that. not well, I suspect. I've lived in hope for so long now, waiting, that to move into a new state will be very hard.

also, it means I now have to do the Very Painful Biopsy. did the Nine Vial Blood Test (ouch) on Saturday. dr discussed with me the poss. of doing the biopsy under anaesthetic, which made me realise how painful it would be. but we can't manage a theatre booking between now and Easter, and I don't want to lose another cycle, so the chair procedure it is. and even then, may still need to do a theatre booking if she decides she wants to "have a look" for scarring etc.

the genetic bloods will take a while to come back and won't make any difference anyway - it's the immune stuff that may affect what we do next. dh hasn't done his test yet.

but assuming nothing shows up on my biopsy and bloods, there is nothing we can do but keep going on the next cycle, with a tx probably in early May, depending when Day 1 is.

am trying to be healthy. sugar is an issue, I think. still having tea instead of coffee in the afternoons. and God knows I'm fit, with all the compulsive stress-relief exercise. wanted to go surfing today but too much work to do and too tired for the drive down and back.

biopsy is tomorrow at the end of a long work/uni day. then at least we're away for a bit over Easter, though I will be popping the pills most likely. not sure if I want her to find something - at least that could be treated -but treatment takes time and is more poking and prodding. rather over the poking and prodding now, after 8 years of IVF/pg/cancer/IVF. mustn't grumble. have child #1.

:)

2011-04-04T11:50:00.002+10:00

so I'm feeling rather pregnant; the hormones are one thing, but a small and interesting wave of exhaustion at the weekend, and something like faint cramps this morning.

the tx a week agao last Wednesday was a good emby: seven cells, no losses. and I've cut out the afternoon coffee in favour of tea, and was trying not to do overlong bike rides - though sort of did one Sunday morning up in the country - so am being careful.

we saw the dr last week to discuss next moves. after this one there are three left. she's advising a check for antibodies, a uterine biopsy - which means a full cycle for me and a scraping off my uterus, fukkit - and tests for genetic issues, which won't mean much because we can't make more embies. dh of course balked at the blood tests for the genetics. everything I go through and he is afraid of one more little blood test. the dummy cycle will suck; was going to take a month off for holidays, but instead I'll be on the hormones with no emby.

so anyway, maybe this one will work and we'll avoid all that. bloods wednesday morning, yet another phone call from nurses Wed afternoon.

2011-03-12T11:10:00.002+10:00

quick blog: no of course that cycle didn't work.

so now I have the realisation that I have four out of eight embies left and I had better get serious.

hence have started tapering coffee, starting with the afternoon one. I have to TEACH in the mornings; that one will go last. tea is just so pathetic as a substitute.

and trying to take my pills, starting with the pre-pg ones. I will move on to all my vitamins in due course. life is so busy and fraught right now that to try to be perfect would be inviting failure. but trying to slowly swing the ship around...

2011-02-22T17:33:00.002+10:00

also: there are more kids in the IVF clinic these days, as people come back for 2nd and 3rd goes. I wonder how necessary it really is, especially when the husband is sitting there too playing happy families? I mean, I have a kid so it doesn't gut me completely. but why not send dh off to the park with the cute little 2-year-old and spare the childless infertile women waiting to see their specialist the sight?

and: if you must bring your baby into clinic, turn off their saccharine cutesy nursery-song-amusement-stroller-toy. one can avert one's eyes, but not one's ears.

2011-02-22T17:26:00.002+10:00

quick blog. never seem to have time - would that be anything to do with the continuous dr appointments. the start of the uni year in which I am both teaching and studying, the painters who are besieging my house? oh no, how could it be?

so the cyst seems to be a harmless thingy just sitting there, as I got my period - did I blog this? - and we went into a new cycle. the scan showed it still there. I can't see this being anything but ovulation - the bleed was bang on 27 days, which is how it used to be back when I was a normal human being.

anyway took all the pills and yesterday went in for tx, complete with new formalities of pre-op interview, heart and blood pressure tests and a medical bracelet. like it's any more likely to cause hospitalisation than the average gp Pap smear. ridiculous.

the doctor gave me the whole "we need to talk" thing. turned out the emby was just sitting there on 3 cells, refusing to move. not expired, but not very interested in life either. she gave it a 10% chance and offered to discard it and thaw another - we wouldn't do two on purpose, though all this did prompt a discussion with dh about what to do if one splits in the petri dish.

so of course I was not interested in discarding it. going for every percentage point we can, a bit like with the cancer. and the minute the embryologist looked at it again it was "trying to divide". so I have a not very excited but possibly viable emby on board, #4 of my allocated 8 chances and here we go again with the 2ww.

has dawned on me that not all of the remaining 4 can be counted on to survive thaw. so got to get the mental thing under control.

a friend who's having personal family problems hung up on me today, well, as good as, when I was trying to talk through when we'd catch up. it sent me into tears. so I'm not as cool as I thought I was. or it's the hormones. or both.

hey ho.

2011-02-07T12:57:00.002+10:00

I should be rushing to make up for all the time I lost going in for a scan today. but I'd rather whinge on here.

I have a cyst. big deal, huh? well actually... I took two weeks off so I could have a holiday. reduce the stress from all this, like.

then a blood test to see if I could start. then another blood test. then a scan. and now a THREE WEEK wait to see if the cyst "sorts itself out". until then I can do nothing.

so much for a break. with five embies left to go, my target of transferring them all or bust with a view of being pregnant in time to NOT be 46 and having a child, is quickly fading.

and we were hoping for another week away in late April. suddenly breaks seem like not such a good idea. not if two weeks can turn into six - or more, if it doesn't go away by itself there will have to be drugs etc and who knows if we can get through even one cycle by then, let alone two.

damn damn damn. I want to cry but I don't have time.

now I'm going to sing. badly.

"Little cyster, won't you please, please please...F OFF!

2011-01-13T12:54:00.002+10:00

you know what I hate? I hate it when I keep calm and not too hopeful while harbouring a little bit of confidence for TWO WHOLE WEEKS (plus a day because the pathology queue was so long yesterday I gave up and tested today), and then when the nurse calls she's all chirpy and nice and I think this is because yes, I was right, I am pregnant.

and then she goes all "I'm soooo soooorrry it was negative on this occasion" and all I want to do is get off the fucking phone and cry. and of course my kid is asleep in the other room and may wake up any minute so I can't cry and typing this is supposed to make me feel better but really all it's doing is making me cry.

I hate that.

2011-01-03T13:18:00.002+10:00

Dec 30 tx: at a near-abandoned clinic at 3.30 in the afternoon. by myself, kid off with husband and grandparents.

four cell emby grown to six; relatively better behaved than the last two. didn't have my inside glasses so only saw a blur on the screen though there seemed to be a darker patch - a larger cell or something?

test Jan 12. bit more hopeful this time. bizarrely certain that it's - can't say "a girl" - genetically female.

gotta run. actual child just came home from the movies...

2010-11-28T13:00:00.002+10:00

quick post: tx Friday. emby not much chop I'm afraid. technically viable but thawed at 4 cells and then just sat there like a blob, not losing or growing cells. Less than 15% chance, according to dr. worth trying, but not worth getting excited about. I sometimes thik of the opposite odds: if the 15% was my chance of getting sick. worth worrying about, but not winding up one's affairs for...

out to drinks the other night w. friends. conversation circled around babies and so on. but no inquiry as to my plans. these are two of my closest friends too. clueless, or afraid to ask? anyway made me feel - I don't know, lonely?

test on 10 December. don't hold your breath.

2010-11-24T10:14:00.002+10:00

12-day scan this morning (moved back from a convenient 8.30 to an annoying midmorning 10 am) and surprise! there's a follicle.

so my ovaries are not quite deaded yet. however, this is not the result we are after. old, chemo-affected, tired eggs: eerk! no, we want the nice young ones from me of eight years ago.

so the transfer is now moved forward to Friday. don't have a time yet. already I am feeling the pressure of the declining numbers: we have seven left. after this one we'll have six.

have just started a sort of diet. not great at diets and am still eating heaps. just trying to make it healthier stuff. fewer lollies and donuts (you would not believe how many cakey things I can eat in a single day) and more salads, bananas and wholemeal bread. it would be nice, if I get pg, to start the weight gain process from my normal weight, not my current 4-5 kilos over that. I even wobble when I walk. /tmi/

2010-11-11T08:26:00.002+10:00

tell you what I didn't miss: menstruating. the beginning of cramps and a bleed this morning. blah. and of course the joy of sanitary pads.

husband finally remembered to ask (on the phone) about 3pm yesterday. then he said something stupid last night and of course I burst into tears and walked out. then there were more stupid tearful conversations last night. he has no clue about how to be empathetic to someone who has just gone through a cycle to no avail. it's not him it's happening to, really. it all happens in my body.

I could have forgiven him the clueless not-asking, but the lack of sympathy afterwards - which takes the form of insisting that I live up to his standards of how to speak to him - really shits me.

yay for blogging. get it out of my system.

anyway, that makes today Day One of the new cycle. start the pills again in a few days. determined to eat better, get more rest and take more vitamins this time.

2010-11-09T19:27:00.002+10:00

garrh. wine. a sleeping pill. all the things I couldn't do the last two weeks. it's been a pretty stressful day even without the pg test - plumbers unexpectedly turning up to do major works, A's birthday party to organise.

and now I'm sitting home feeling sorry for myself and rabbiting away on the computer, all alone.

I have yet to tell my friends, apart from one who lives overseas, that I'm back in IVF. I think they lost interest after about the tenth conversation about whether I should do it. but surely some of them must realise I am now in the time when that's possible, as opposed to hypothetical?

and why am I not whining to my husband? because he is having a work crisis and has not even thought to call and ask me what the result was and will not be home until 10. I know it's a proper crisis to do with computers but I'm not sure whether to be furious with him for not remembering that his wife was having a pg test, or feel sorry for him that he is so one-track that he could do such a thing. not sure how bad to make him feel once he does realise. but he should feel bad. surely?

ah never mind. eat more bad food. drink some soy milk. try to sleep. tomorrow is another day and next week will be Day One of another cycle.

poor little three-celled emby, though....

2010-11-09T15:18:00.003+10:00

negative. the first call came when I was talking to a plumber - of course all the works around the house fall to me because I only work from home (grr). it took 2 hours to finally speak to a nurse. negative.

and I surprised myself by bursting into tears after I hung up. I had thought I'd be sanguine. the chances were low anyway and there are seven more and I hadn't invested that much in this cycle. but enough, it seems.

that poor little three-celled thing. frozen all those years, then nothing. seems reason enough to cry.

now to stop all the medication and wait to bleed and start again.

2010-11-01T08:34:00.002+10:00

um, so late Tuesday 26 October at about 12.20 pm was transfer. a three-celled emby that had started at four, lost two and gained one. a 15-18 per cent chance of taking, according to dr. progesterone levels fine. transfer a bit more painful than I remember - darn menopausal membranes! so trying to take care of myself and not think about it all at the same time. blood test due Tuesday November 9.

bit vague today, woke up at 5.15 am. went for a tired bike ride along the flooded banks of the Yarra. now sleepyyyyy....

2010-10-25T08:26:00.002+10:00

well, I can report something: that messing around in random fashion with a middle-aged woman's hormones makes her stack on weight. or maybe it's the doughnuts...anyway despite riding for an average of an hour a day and swimming for 30 minutes most days, I am officially fat - well over my "panic weight" and moving up the scale. nothing fits and I wobble when I walk.

127.5 pounds may not sound that much, but I'm not tall. and I am so not good at dieting. first step will be cutting out the toast and jam and doughnuts. maybe that will help. but that requires me to stock the house with fresh vegies and fruit, and to be honest, it's driving me crazy how much time I'm spending on medical stuff again - all Friday morning for one thing as I had to bring my mammogram forward, a transfer tomorrow - yes, tomorrow, don't know what time yet - and all Wednesday morning for an ultrasound (breast) and being poked about by my surgeon. and yes it has occurred to me that it's not ideal to have the tx one day and see the surgeon the next - what if something's wrong? - but I have decided to proceed as I am trying to act like I don't have cancer. which I don't.

tried to cut out the morning coffee this morning - got past the soy latte from the bakery on my ride, but weakened when I got home. at least a homemade coffee has fewer calories. and I don't know if I'll be able to pull long weekend rides without a cafe coffee. or get any writing done in the afternoons when I go on my 2-day-uni-finishing escape later this week. but meanwhile, will try to get by with a cup of tea this afternoon. or at least a smaller coffee than usual. caffeine is soooo addictive.

also, in the tmi department: progesterone pessaries are made with cocoa butter. at least my bits will be nicely moisturised. ick.

2010-10-19T10:37:00.002+10:00

now, I find this interesting: fevers can be linked to spontaneous remission. the idea is, I think, that the infection kick-starts the immune system.

off to do some reading up. and to try not to think about how I'm about to suppress my immune system.

2010-10-19T10:01:00.002+10:00

just read back through a lot of my posts around the time we created the embies (early december 02) and the tx in Feb 03. can't believe how much detail I recorded and obsessed over - my temperature, everything I ate. strangely, not thinking of all that stuff now though I suppose I will be careful over food - quite possibly cut out dairy again and definitely peanuts, along with the usual pg recommendations. I will certainly not cut back on my exercise.

is it because I'm older, because I'm blase, busier, or is the the perspective of having had cancer? a bit of all, I guess.

2010-10-19T09:41:00.002+10:00

I return w. the delightful news that my endometrial lining is 7mm. or cm. who knows. suppose it's mm.

which explains the weird dreams and general fatigue I have been feeling. oh the joy of hormones. not even pregnant and it's knocking me about.

actually, as the dr startled me with the news that she could be doing a transfer as early as next MONDAY (a week before I thought it was possible), I may already, technically, be pregnant, as the dates always begin two weeks before "conception", at the beginning of the cycle. such minutiae I have learned in my IVF career.

had coffee with a longlost uni friend (and once or twice, lover) yesterday. he has a five year old daughter and MS. in fact he would have been diagnosed about the same time as me, maybe a bit later. like me, he has had to wait five years to see how things would go. he is basically OK, though on medication and clearly not unaffected. so they are thinking of another child. as he put it "do it yourself grandparenting" has both advantages and disadvantages. as long as you're set up (meaning with a house and sufficient resources), mid 40s doesn't look so old anymore. and even if it did, what could I do? snap my fingers and become 25 again? hah!

2010-10-09T14:33:00.002+10:00

I guess I expected some great declaration on his part, or a blank refusal.

Instead, we have a kind of muddling-along falling-into-it progress into a second attempt, in which I have to be on my best behaviour to prove we have a future together. and I am not, apparently, allowed to treat it as a redemptive exercise, though I am allowed to ask that things be different this time.

but I can't stop seeing it that way. that though I am so much older this time, and that though it will be more exhausting than before, that maybe this is his chance to treat me better, to take care of his pregnant wife/wife with baby as he should have last time.

if. if, of course.

so I am on low-dose oestrogen for ten days, bizarrely enough after five years of blocking all oestrogen from my body. hell, I can't even spell it properly.

then the joy of a second internal scan, then maybe 15 days after that we can try for a transfer.

and it is costing $900 a time to try, plus 1400 that we get back from Medicare.

and one of the inventors of IVF has just got the Nobel Prize for Medicine. yay. doubly so as it has annoyed the Vatican. Like China protesting about the 2010 peace prize going to a Chinese dissident, that tells me they made the right decision.

and apparently IVF in Australia produces about 56% boys. A. says he wants a brother. I, of course, would rather a girl. but I know that I will be happy with either.

exhausted, sleepless, regretting the loss of the life I've built up as the mother of "just the one" over the years. but happy.

is that not redemptive?

there are eight embies in storage. at one a time, that will take until at least mid next year to get through, depending on how each transfer goes. my one wish is, if they don't work, for them not to work upfront. no miscarriages. please. and I'm not even planning to do a Down's scan. no abortions, either.

expect I'll be back on here a lot more than before. I may even hunt down the old IVF forums, though all my cycle mates will have moved on long ago. in the amazingly personal and private emotional work to be done, there is this: others are going through it.

(which puts me in mind of the recent moments I've had, reading about a child who lost his eyes to cancer, and seeing a woman with a missing leg and I think arm, I didn't stare, at the pool. an easily concealed prosthetic breast? that's naaarthing...)

2010-08-20T09:43:00.002+10:00

this post is quick but I wanted to make a note here; actually began the conversation with dh last night.

of course it all came back to how he treated me in hong kong and how I want him to promise it will be better this time. and I had to bite my tongue about a million times while he spouted rubbish like how I should take responsibility for that time, and he didn't think he'd done less than he could.

I was alone. I had an 8 month old child. it was too hot to go outside. I was breastfeeding. I wasn't getting any sleep - being woken 8 times a night. I was depressed and often in tears. I had to beg him to get one f-ing night in another apartment to get a good sleep. and I had a lump and he knew it and didn't get me to a doctor - I didn't know where to find one and frankly I was psychotic with exhaustion. and he dares to compare that to him having a bit of a cold right now and being a bit tired. at home in Australia. sleeping every night. not feeding. not, presumably, with an undiagnosed cancer.

and he thinks I should just move on from that. what I want, what I really want, is for him to step up for once in his life. not to be so fucking passive. to say to me: "if this is what you want then we will do it." but he will make me beg. I can see it coming. and because it's for a child, I will do it. and I will hate him for it.

and I have realised that if he says no, I really will leave him. he has let me live in hope, without doing my reconstruction, waiting, for six years. he has known this is what I wanted and he hasn't had the guts to bring it up. he now says he has "concerns" about our age and the strength of our relationship. the time for that is past. he could have done something about surrogacy. he could have - and he said several times he would and never did - started counselling. he could have brought these problems up in the cold light of day, not in a fight. and now I'm off the drugs, and in a month or two the drs will be happy for me to do transfers. I feel I am probably going to get my cycle back. so if he says no, he has cheated and defrauded me through sheer cowardice. and I will leave him.

2010-07-07T09:44:00.002+10:00

I should post a long and complicated thing I wrote last week about my feelings about finishing treatment.

instead, a random wondering: does coming off Tamoxifen make you really, really thirsty? I can't find much online, apart from a warning that withdrawal could lead to "hot flashes, weight gain and emotional lability". which I thought was menopause.

when you've been on it a long time (one site said) the half-life can be up to seven days. so that would make today about right to be really withdrawing. plus I'd be due for my Zoladex shot today. so the physical recovery, if there is one, would start about now.

what I'm really wondering is will I get my periods back? oh, and when I'll screw up the nerve to discuss baby #2 with my husband.

2010-06-07T12:38:00.002+10:00

one of those middle-of-the-night insights: one reason I have become so bloody-minded and determined is this: that my life is now mine in a way it wasn't before the cancer. awareness and gratitude aside, I have earned my life: I made myself go through surgeries, chemos, radiotheraphy, failed reconstructions, dietary changes, pills and shots and dr visits for 5 1/2 years. it was bloody hard work to keep this life.

so no one can tell me what to do with it. The only persons I owe anything to are my parents, my son (because by having him I took on responsibility for him) and, though in a more limited way, my husband. that's all. everyone else I will give to through love or goodwill or sympathy, but it will be my choice. my life.

2010-05-26T14:12:00.003+10:00

last friday I had the five-year scan.

well, it was really a five and a half year scan, but at the end of June I'm up to five years of hormone treatment. at which point there is no need to keep taking the pills/shots any more; there is no guarantee of course but there is no added benefit in going on with the drugs.

so. a CT scan, complete with that weird hot/flushed feeling in all my soft tissues. a bone scan, complete with 20 minutes of lying very still while my body slides slowly up and down under a camera that can see into my very bones. oh, and a blood test the previous day, just for added fun.

I did pretty well over the weekend, but by yesterday morning, with my appointment with the oncologist in the afternoon, I was a bit anxious. I went to the pool and swam until the last possible moment, all the time feeling a little detached from my body. the CT scan is the answer, really; it shows up an tumors that might be quietly forming in the depths. five years is not "cured" - I think that's 10 - but it's something I had no great reason to expect to live, let alone be cancer-free, when I was first diagnosed.

so the lovely Dr M. walks into the room and the first thing he says, bless him, knowing I'm freaking out, is "the test results look good." The rest of the appointment was basically us congratulating each other on being so good at our jobs/sticking with the treatment respectively. of course he had a poke about, just in case, but still failed to find anything of interest. a bit of arthritis and I'm a little anaemic. hah! chickenfeed!

all of which means I am not going to die. I am going to see my little boy grow up. I can banish that voice in the back of my head that worries about what he would do without me.

it also means I might actually have another baby. even the thought, the image of another little boy or girl seems like some kind of unreachable, heavenly fantasy. another child. they are pretty good things to have, really.

it's also crossed my mind that I could just not, and get on with doing as much as I can with the life I appear to be going to have; travel, work etc. but I suspect I'll go for the baby option. yet to discuss with husband. husband may not get much of a say in it.

....and in the last few days I've noticed myself getting through the fear with a kind of grim get-on-with-it-ness. and I am starting to see how this has changed me. not just a greater appreciation of being alive, but a more bloody-minded focus on what I want/need from life (for myself and for A.), and how I'm going to get it. and I am going to get it. believe me.

still not dead. not going to die. not yet.

2010-02-28T09:17:00.002+10:00

he was watching Nigella Lawson on the TV yesterday. he said "that lady's kids are lucky" and "this show is making me hungry". so I said "would you like to go and live with her?". He thought for a moment and said: "no, I'll stay with you."

then we made jelly with tinned fruit in it. take that, buxom TV superchef!

2010-02-14T09:15:00.001+10:00

went to look at guinea pig cages yesterday. ascertained prices and left. I'm not rushing into this.

as we were leaving he said to me: "I think it would be good to get the cage before the guinea pigs." he had thought we were going to buy one yesterday. he's such a good boy. no tantrum. just a subtle attempt to convince me. he is learning to try to manipulate me, to work his way around me. from his pov I must be just about everything, the Great Power in the world.

no wonder teenagers rebel.

2010-02-14T09:14:00.000+10:00

bizarre thought on passing a tattoo/piercing parlour; wonder what it would look like to get a new breast made of silver plate. I could attach by little rings or clips pierced into my skin.

just saying...

2010-02-02T09:18:00.003+10:00

school's back. the six weeks were OK in the end. I surrendered to not getting any work done, and ended up having my first proper mental break since the cancer diagnosis.

we had a week at the beach, then his grandparents took him for a few nights. his other grandparents were in town too (the inlaws) and we went to their 24th floor apartment, where I was horrified at the balconies and have banned dh from letting him be there until it's understood 17 times over that those doors are to stay CLOSED.

had a few days here and there at the country place, where his new reading skills made him a fine quiet-morning companion.

and it is definitely getting easier, this parenting thing, at least in terms of demands on me. but I am also missing my little person, and thinking that maybe I'd like another; I will be frustrated and worn out again, but they are so damn nice, children. there is no feeling like looking at my own child, listening to him talk. it's gold, and I don't care if it's some biological trick. we - humans - are just a parcel of biological tricks after all.

he's back at school now. Grade One. five months of treatment to go. have an appointment with the IVF dr in April, and am about to start the STUPID police check process that the state now requires before I can use my own bloody embies. stupid.

2009-12-16T16:22:00.006+10:00

see, I was going to post a boast about his first end of year report, and the contents, which featured words like "advanced", "excellent", "potential as a writer", blah blah blah.

but instead, I wish to quote a whingey-voiced six year old, after being admonished for creating a water fountain in the powder room while filling a spray bottle (it's 40 degrees outside so water play is the go).

"I forgot which way I was going (he means the tap), so I exploded."

and it was my repetition of those words, oh, about 10 times, that led to the exchange below.

2009-12-16T16:22:00.003+10:00

"stop teasing me"
"I can't help it if you're funny."
"it's your fault. because you made me."

2009-11-20T10:45:00.003+10:00

the definition of good timing: to wake up early and drive to the beach on a super-hot day, only to receive a phone call from the husband saying the kid is sick and staying home from school.

why good timing? because it meant I a) got my swim anyway and b) did it on a day that would have been shot for work by said sick child. was home by lunchtime and able to take over childcare without a jot of resentment. and husband gets brownie points for staying home for morning.

anyway there was nothing much wrong with him. he's back at school today. only four weeks left until the six-week school holidays. now there's a motivation to do some work. in fact we are both (kid and me: have no idea what dh thinks) looking forward to our little trips, house cleanup, cooking, week at the beach and of course: CHRISTMAS. the highlight of any six-year-old's birthday (after the actual act of turning six)

2009-11-17T08:50:00.002+10:00

we're sitting on the floor. he gets a cushion and leans it against me and snuggles in.
"you're a tree," he says.
"and you're a pea," I say, pea being my latest affectionate name for him.
"no," he says. "I'm a birdie. and I made my nest in you."

sometimes I love him so much it makes my heart break.

sixth birthday report: a day of insane fruit-salad making, dealing (not well) with a kid who threw a tantrum, and occasionally stopping to thank the nonexistent God that after five years exactly, I was still Not Dead.

it's very hot for November. I suppose he thinks it's normal. the benefit of being brand new.

2009-10-30T19:54:00.002+10:00

so A. turns six next week, which of course is five years post-diagnosis. exactly. surgeon OK'd me last week. maybe a CAT scan before the five years post-treatment mark.

might I have made it? afraid to take my fingers away from my eyes, really.

A. is all about Halloween this weekend; has a scary skeleton outfit sent to him by MIL, who for all her usual impeccable taste seems to go in for ghoulish kid outfits. so I am going doorknocking with him and some neighbourhood kids/mums tomorrow.

he is also all about star charts (or tick charts) for being good - getting dressed, doing his handwriting practice - and if he keeps that up, he gets another chart for giving the dog water. and if he gets that right, well, I have to buy him a guinea pig.

btw, don't go looking for guinea pigs on Google images. (pause) told you not to look, didn't I? gross, huh?

my current wish is for someone to make a decent mastectomy swimsuit. maybe a two-piece even? in a colour other than black?

2009-09-23T15:04:00.002+10:00

nearly up to 5 years post-diagnosis. nearly up to 6 month more of treatment. A assures me that if I have a baby he will get up to it when it cries. I tell him it's not his job to do that, but he can help feed it if he likes, and play with it. I don't know where this is heading.

two friends doing IVF right now: one has been trying for years and is now on egg donation from her sister, and got a negative. the other had a failed first round and is about to try with frozen embies; in the way of these things, her husband's father has just died and he will have to go overseas when her transfer is due. I am campaigning to be allowed to take her to the hospital and home again. these are people who are always going our of their way to help their friends, but never take help themselves. she's the person who came with me to the specialist when the lump was being tested.

so, a little vicarious IVF tension for me.

off on a four-day bike riding holiday with the kid, dh and some motel bookings (not entirely roughing it!) School holidays are good b/c we get to see more of each other, not so good for my work..

2009-09-04T10:34:00.001+10:00

have updated my book list. seem to be actually reading at the moment. have developed a habit of a little read in the afternoon - it's important to keep going on books, I think. if they sit too long they get stale.

A. is reading too...I sometimes wonder what he's doing and find him sitting with his nose in a book. he's mine all right.

looking forward to school holidays and the Big Bike Ride in the hills, with motels and nice restaurants every night.

2009-06-27T14:02:00.002+10:00

letting so much go: my boy at 5 1/2. does me little drawings all the time. has a secret notebook for his treasure hunts. says I Love You a lot. is learning to lie, and to give me the answers he thinks I want. still naps in the afternoons when he's not at school. can play happily by himself but has friends. will come shopping with me. can be convinced a show about Pompeii is a "Volcano show". is a fabulous reader and speller (for his age) but needs therapy to help with his handwriting (he is somy kid!).

makes me too busy to blog much...

2009-05-28T12:06:00.002+10:00

just taking a moment out of my busy day to say: am I really supposed to feel sorry for the mother who sent her kids to school with swine flu - or at least flu symptoms right after coming back from frickin' disneyland?

who then went on to whinge about how she didn't know how they "did the black plague without dvds"?

I don't think she should be hung. but she ought to at least apologise for causing the whole SCHOOL to be CLOSED for a WEEK.

it's not rocket science, people. it's epidemiology. or, if your kid is sick, DON'T PASS IT ON!!

if someone's kid dies as a result of the flu that started with her kids, how would she feel? I suspect she is yet to make the connection between her actions and what's happened. idjut.

A's school is yet to be affected - we're very close to 2 primary schools that have it and there's a lot of mixing between schools at weekends and so on - I am just hoping the school doesn't get it before the weekend, as we have my elderly parents booked to babysit him so we can get some time away. if he's exposed, we'll have to cancel. because, you know, we don't want to SPREAD it. and we have half a brain between us.

next week, bring it on. it's going to happen, I know. just not this week. please?

2009-05-19T11:03:00.002+10:00

hmmm.. got an email from blogger that suggested someone may have tried to use my account...odd.

nothing to say here, apart from kid growing up and up and up.

just spent the morning at his school's Grade 4 doing a talk about my work. all very worthy but I really don't have the time. this project is bigger than I thought. or I have less time than I thought. either way, the boulder's not moving.

2009-05-11T13:50:00.002+10:00

is it really stealing chocolate from my son's easter bunny if I only take from the back of the bunny, leaving the face intact?

big mother's day yesterday: drove up to see my parents, took them out for high tea. A. was very well behaved and as always it was more relaxing having other adults to help wrangle him.

there may be an issue at school, I'm not sure. he's learning well and has friends, but some bigger kids are getting him to do things he doesn't want to do - being rude to other kids, kissing girls on the chest, things like that - I only heard about it through another mother but he has now confirmed it and told me some other things they've done. I've acted like it's no big deal but suggested maybe he should avoid those kids, or at least not go to the "secret hiding places" with them. would quite like to have a word in the ear of the kids concerned - they are four years older than him - but if it comes down to it will probably have to go through Channels, ie the teacher and possibly principal. hoping he will handle it by telling them to nick off. and heartened that at least two older kids are on his side - both the kid through whom the information came, and another who apparently told them to leave him alone.

the thing is, he's so sweet and compliant, I can see how he could be a nice toy for them. and how that could hurt him when he sees it for what it is.

2009-02-02T12:26:00.002+10:00

School.

simple, right? he puts on his clothes in the morning and I drop him off, just like we've been doing 3-4 days a week at childcare for a couple of years now.

no, not simple. I did cry - just one tear, enough to know it was getting to me. the coffee gathering in the general-purpose room gave me a stop along the way, and probably prevented me sobbing all the way home.

husband came too, but went to work as soon as we left the classroom.

A. has a set of lovely long-sleeved cotton shirts with collars - he wanted those, and I had to persuade/trick him to get him to unbotton the top button. apparently he thinks that's what schoolboys wear.

as usual when I drop him off, he found a spot and an activity and got on with it, with not much more than a "bye Mum". tomorrow I probably won't even get that.

and he is still so sweet and loves to cuddle me and kisses the back of my hand and tells me how much I love him (no that's not a typo) and all that will change with learning and with the influence of bigger kids in the playground.

I felt lost when I got home; couldn't settle to the usual writing tasks, and eventually gave myself permission to read a book for work purposes, the sort of thing I usually restrict to after hours. now I've got two hours before I pick him up and have to go soon for a shorter-than-usual swim.

my son's a schoolboy.

and under all this is a recent feeling that yes, I really do want another baby - particularly today - not sure if I'm afraid of the new freedom of him being at school, if I miss my baby, or if I just want that second one. the little girls in their checked dresses did tug at my heart today. I'm also getting sick of being menopausal - there's a new kind of thinness to my skin and I feel like I'm becoming more watery under my skin - and not sure if I can hold out 18 more months on the pills and injections. if I'm going to have another baby, and I stopped the drugs at 43, I could be sure of doing it, if at all, before I was 45. If I wait till next year, it might feel too late - it's only another year but I've waited so long already.

changes. I know now to ride it out a little, to feel my way through. I am regaining my ability to waste time, to feel like I won't die next month. I guess that's a good thing.

2009-01-23T11:11:00.003+10:00

been to Europe and back; so easy to travel with a kid who can navigate the menu on the in-flight entertainment system by himself! it helped that we flew business class. and that I had a week - a whole week - without him - first. It was really only five days here and two days in transit, but it still felt like forever.

this is just a checking-in post. I should detail the things he's doing - scolding me in my own voice with my own words, calling me "my darling" in a faux-luvvie voice, calling me "sweet Mummy", loving being back with his mates in holiday care after two weeks with no friends, how he walked around the natural history museum saying "wow" every five seconds, and then, as quickly, moving on...how cute he looked all bundled up in his six tops and two hats in the snow. how he wanted to stop and rest when we were walking home in -9 degrees and I said "we can't just sit down and die in the snow." how he likes to email his mates, in the form of Gmail's little smiley icons. how he's starting school in just over a week and I plan to cry and cry and cry.

but I don't have time. trying to work.

:)

2008-12-05T08:26:00.002+10:00

ah, the drive-by comment. fucking bitch.

I'll set the scene: drinks for a friend in a bar. sitting happily listening to some bright young things prattle on. older woman makes eye contact, sits beside me and introduces herself. I sigh inwardly and politely talk to her. she's a spitter - you know, the kind that spray spit on you when they talk. yuk. she is also in the same field as me, so we find things to talk about. she is opinionated. that goes with the territory. the talk turns to blogs. I mention how interesting and dramatic infertility blogs can be, and tell her about getupgrrl. she makes a further comment and the topic turns to surrogacy and the new laws in my state. she offers the opinion that it's exploitation. I wonder aloud about people who have already had kids so they know what's involved, and what if, say, it was for a sister. she says well, it's nine months of physical effort. no different to say donating an organ, I say. I have already mentioned that I wrote something in a forum she well knows (publication) on this topic, so she should have some idea that I have strong feelings on it. further, she doesn't know me from Eve. she has no idea what my situation might be.

she then says "I don't have children, but I would never do that to another person" and - get this - jumps up and walks off, leaving me with no ability to reply. it's not like we were arguing, though the conversation was robust. I briefly considered following her and insisting she allow me to respond. but life is too short. still, not too short for me to probably, one day, have another meeting with her. at which point, depending on how I feel, I may have a thing or two to say. among them: does she make every single decision in her life ethically? does she never buy, say, a T-shirt made in China under possibly exploitative circumstances? does she think women have no right to offer freely to bear a child for another woman? and don't men exploit women when they have babies by them? and finally, why is she suck a fucking toxic coward in the way she deals with other people. if you're going to spray your idiot ideas about, stay fucking put and defend them.

ah, that feels better.

2008-11-19T13:26:00.002+10:00

a week late, a birthday post: he was sick with an ear infection Monday and Tuesday, and I have to admit being secretly pleased when he insisted he was well enough to go into kindy on his birthday (Wednesday) - he wanted to do the bit at group time when he got to stand up and say it was his birthday and he was five...

he now has a tagalong instead of a bike trailer, which scares the living whatsit out of me; he looks so vulnerable on it, like a creature out of its protective shell too early.

and the actual party? at a play centre, thank God, as I had the bug after him, or some other thing that made me lie in bed and groan and throw up a little. I was nearly well again by Sunday and the 12/13 of them ran around the play equipment like mad things. fortunately no injuries.

we're doing school orientations. he's learning, bit by bit, to control the boy impulses that come with being school age (hitting, shouting, throwing: all the normal stuff, even in my sweet little boy). I'm feeling that pretty soon he'll be gone from me: even though he has been in a lot of care, school is different; I'm trying when I can to shorten those care days, but my work/writing/freelancing is going really well (apart from last week's sickness bout) so I can't cut it back too much.

he can write his name if I spell it for him. he thinks he's a big boy. next year he'll be six years old.

oh, and I am now four years post-diagnosis and as far as they can tell, still in remission...

2008-10-21T13:23:00.001+10:00

Ok, I'd just like to say that it's driving me crazy that I keep updating my read-books list in the template, and it keeps not appearing on the site.

I am so reading. so there.

also writing. a lot. so much that some organisation I will not name here has given me actual money to do so. I mean, to write what I like, not what I'm told to do. not much money, but enough to make me feel important. and frightened.

A. is very well. we have picked a school. he is almost five. it is all hard to believe. there is still no decision on the next-baby front, though I am 42 years old. basically I am being nicer to my husband in the hope he will be nicer to me and think another kid is a good idea. which will not solve the problem that my husband is basically not all that considerate or helpful to have around when you're the mother of a very small baby. of which I am reminded whenever I see the right side of my chest. sigh.

obviously it's too late for him to have a close sibling. so I have to recognise my desire for another is all about me. and life has been much more like "normal" lately - I have a mind again, and time to do the things I need to, though never enough. why would I bring a new baby into that a couple of years from now?

why not?

2008-09-16T09:53:00.002+10:00

mike and mike...I admit to only having read the first couple of posts, but my first reaction was to doubt that it was real - sorry Mike and Mike, if you are real!...and then, if they really are pregnant with six babies to two surrogates, to hope they have one hell of a supportive social group.

and though I wish them well, to think again that this stuff is best done in places where putting back four embryos at once is simply not done. selective reduction is a nightmare, even for pro-choice types like me (and that too is complicated - the proposed laws in Victoria allow abortion up to 24 weeks and I can't say I'm relaxed and comfortable about that). if they had been able to do what they're doing more easily in the US - and I"m not sure why they couldn't - or if they were Australians and could do it here, the better medical system (easier to freeze embies etc) would have prevented them being landed with what is effectively sextuplets.

but it's done now. as things are. so I hope they are really up for it.

2008-07-18T10:25:00.002+10:00

when I started this blog - what, was it seven years ago? - I did it partly because I knew it would give me the freedom to say whatever I thought, without having to defend it to my friends and family. and that's been a useful thing over the years. so this next is really just for me, a vent.

this morning I ran between the kitchen and A's room, making his kindy lunch between trips to his "shop", where he was selling teddies and toys. he kept calling me back, practically begging me to come to his shop. I didn't think much of it at the time; there is never enough time and competition between attention and practical duties are a standard of parenting.

now, a couple of hours later, I"m in the study at the front of our house, trying to work on an essay I hope a magazine will take. and from across the road, I can hear the kids of the people who live in the house opposite, playing some sort of game, loudly. and partly because I simply don't really like those people, and partly because I am in a low, perspective-lacking mood, I hate them all. I hate that they have each other to play with, while A has to play by himself. I hate that she has a boy and a girl and I have no daughter. I hate myself for justifying sending A to kindy a little more than he really needs to by telling myself he needs friends to play with, when I know it's more that I get tired of pretending to be four. I want to cry. I want to say it's not fair, where is his little brother or sister?

and I know I'm full of shit. I know I'm lucky to have him and one day he'll realise he was lucky his mother didn't die when he was one. (insert prayer for non-recurrence here). I know everyone has their problems and there are people who have lost children, are losing them now.

but I never imagined just one child. I imagined children playing together. my children. I'm 42. three years in remission. two years of treatment to go. I'm fit and healthy but I can also feel age settling on me. and I wonder about my reasons for not letting go of that second baby. and I worry that I will do it for the wrong reasons, trying to undo what has happened, and that I will regret it. am I just tricking myself into single-childness, putting it off and putting it off until the choice has gone?

most of all, I'm just angry and self-pitying and resentful.

2008-06-25T11:41:00.002+10:00

and while the media is full of reports and discussion of Jane McGrath dying of bc at 42 - it came back after she'd been in remission EIGHT years - I was pleased to seethis article about cloning T4 cells and reintroducing them. it seems logical, and more, it supports the idea that a good immune system can only help. and help me justify my relaxed lifestyle and relentless exercise.

but not the red wine and cheesy pasta I ate and drank last night...ouch my head.

2008-06-10T08:49:00.002+10:00

still here, yeah. working away at uni, not much writing; I currently have A. at home only one day a week (he's in two different kindies, both great in their way, at two days each), although public holidays, school holidays and so on and so forth tend to make it really three days most weeks on average.

getting plenty of exercise, surfing every couple of weeks. and sometimes people will comment on what a great life I seem to have and I think, well, I kind of have to get that exercise. and I think, well, my husband isn't willing to put the time into taking up his share of the childcare and general housework and drudgery - he does a few things, like empty the dishwasher, but in general the responsibility for organising everything falls on me - and if that means I have to spend a bit of extra money on childcare to get a life, so be it. the money's there - I hate to think what this would all have been like if we were scratching to pay the mortgage, if I'd had to work fulltime and particularly if husband's attitude had been the same as it is. kind of a chicken or egg question really, as I think he thinks the good income justifies his detachment from family life. sigh.

anyway, at the end of June I'm up to three years' remission. still no real prospect of baby #2, and at 42 I know that I'm going to be a very, very old mother to the next one. undecided, also, about whether to try to do it myself or to use the new surrogacy laws when they finally change them (hurry UP). but I still want another one. illogical and all, but what does logic have to do with it? and again, the resources are there to make it easier for us - though I would need husband to make some greater effort than he did the first time around, and it's a sore point between us - and there are advantages to a big age gap. I can picture us on a cycling holiday in 7 or 8 years' time, A. on his own bike and me pulling a 4-year-old in a trailer. we are in fact going to do a holiday -with husband of course - later this year, before A. gets too big for his trailer.

have chosen a school for A - the closest government school, having been put off by the busy road between us and the other possible school, where many of his friends are going.

he's talking in very complex sentences, and uses sophisticated words like "soil" instead of "dirt" when he looks at pictures of gardens in books.

he knows I was sick; he has even seen the scars; he takes it in stride as I have been careful to be quite offhand about it. I think he needs to know, and if it ever comes to explaining a relapse, I think it will help. but we're not going there.

did I post about the time he cut his forehead open? anyway, the scar is healing up. I still don't like to see it. it reminds me of how fragile he is, and how easily an injury to him could destroy me. that sounds selfish; I don' t mean it like that. I tell him "I love you the whole world" and I mean it literally; I know I'd die for him if I had to.

2008-01-10T10:36:00.001+10:00

nearly two months! was sure I had blogged more recently.

not too much time to say much at this stage; the terrible news is that yes, I did go and ask my cousin about possibly being a surrogate and no, she wasn't in a position to (which was fine by me)...had a lovely afternoon with her, thought "must go and see her and her three-year-old more often"...and a week later she had a stroke, at 42. She was OK for a couple of weeks, then it happened again. And now i have a funeral to go to next week, and selfishly, I am all the more affected because my greatest fear with A. is dying and leaving him without a mother. (well, there are other fears, but none rational; just the usual paranoid mum stuff.)

surrogacy issues were on backburner anyway, I don't know what I want...and I have to come to terms with this...we were little girls together, lost contact, regained contacted...and she's gone.

2007-11-13T18:25:00.000+10:00

starting to look around...putting out feelers in certain online forums and have asked a friend for contact details for a woman I hardly know who once said in my hearing that she would love to be a surrogate...had a big cry this morning about not having my little two-year-old...and of course in my imagination it would be a girl...veering between letting this go and going full-on into it...counsellor on Thursday, I wonder if that will help?

4th birthday for A was a big success: park party, no entertainers, kids running around having fun. kept him home from childcare for most of his birthday; we had brunch, did craft, he had a big afternoon sleep and then he had cake and a play at childcare while I had a swim.

he's suddenly added a dove-like rrrrr to his speech. he's getting bigger every day.

2007-11-05T20:56:00.000+10:00

impetigo...at least this isn't cold sores. but it clearly says in these guidelines that the sores should be covered...also that the kid should be kept home...not sure if he'll be going to childcare Thursday at this rate...there was a notice up on the door of the childcare centre saying one case of this had been reported, so I guess it's that.

2007-11-05T20:09:00.000+10:00

late. husband still interstate with parents. should be in bed.

while I was interstate I called back the counselling service at the IVF clinic. I'd left a message about coming in to talk about what's involved in surrogacy - have also made an appointment with my IVF dr - and the counselling service had called me - so when I got the woman on the phone, I said I wanted to come in and see a counsellor who was familiar with the area. and she said "it's actually illegal in Victoria". at which point I realised I was talking to someone with NO IDEA and got on my high horse with namedropping of my ivf dr, who is recommending this as the way to go, the Law Reform Commission, to which I have made a submission, the fact that I've read the legislation and it's NOT illegal...and then I more or less said I wanted to make an appointment with someone who had a clue. I hope to God that girl was a receptionist, not a counsellor. she rang back 20 mins later with some names...and in that 20 minutes I realised that my personality is such that the more I'm said "no" to, the more I will fight this. sigh. husband relationship still crap, have had no discussion of all this. and of course, have no idea who on Earth could be a surrogate for us. all my female friends have pg problems, or are simply not interested in doing it. if I did it, I would like it to be someone who is really, really keen. or who we can pay a lot so she gets something out of it. but that IS illegal here. maybe will know more after meeting counsellor next week - hope she has a clue.

and A. has probably got cold sores! he has had a small weeping sore beside his nose for about a week; over the weekend he had a temperature and really poor sleep (yes while we were at inlaws. sigh again) - bad enough for me to think "I want another baby why?". then I get him to childcare today, with the sore covered in disinfectant cream and a cut-down bandaid, and a carer casually mentions that kid X has cold sores - in fact, I see, a face covered in them. this particular kid seems to have a crush on A. - hugs him and so on. the carer sees my shock, says "oh, it's not an exclusion", meaning that the law doesn't say you have to keep a kid with coldsores home. but fuck, couldn't they at least COVER the sores on that kid so it doesn't spread? and warn the rest of us? or even just stop kid X from wiping his sores all over my kid? I'm seriously upset about it - coldsores are permanent and on the face, disfiguring. the poor little love has his Hi-5 bandaid over it but it's really yucky and sore. grrrr. seeing dr on Wednesday for confirmation, but I know there isn't much you can do once you have it - vitamins, creams etc, all just management.

2007-10-31T13:09:00.001+10:00

so it's like this: the gun has 20 chambers. three years ago, 12 of them had bullets in them. spin and fire. A year later, after surgery, chemo, radio, there were eight bullets. spin and fire. now, after two subsequent years of daily pills and monthly shots and day after day simply not getting cancer again, there are still six bullets in that gun. if I make it through another three years, going to bed every night without having got cancer again that day, and if I take my pills and shots all that time, there'll be "only" three bullets left - a 15% chance of recurrence.

but if I stop the medication to get pregnant, possible effects of pregnancy itself aside, I'm effectively voting to leave three bullets in the gun.

this is the considered opinion of my apparently very competent and caring, yet brutally honest oncologist. the numbers are his. the metaphor is mine. I am of course now convinced that the next embryo would have been a little girl.

dh and I have not had a chance to discuss these figures, given in yesterday's review consultation. there seems to me so little to discuss that I rode my bike home, fast in order to catch kindy before it closed, with tears streaming down my face all the way up Wellington Street, and I didn't care who saw.

the only option left is surrogacy. I was so hopeful (and why didn't the oncologist give me these numbers three years ago anyway?) that I haven't investigated that (though I did have my say on the LIV review) ; have only the slimmest of possibilities, even if the law changes; have little expectation that husband will "go for" it; have serious doubts about whether I could do a paid surrogacy. waiting three more years really doesn't make much sense - it would be such a big gap from A, and I would be so old - 45.

veering between a kind of fatalistic acceptance to kick-in-the-guts denial. if past performance is much to go by, husband will not address this until I bring it up. not sure if I can stay with him if he doesn't want this as I want it; not sure I can get past my belief that his neglect helped the cancer go unnotticed for so long, hence those awful figures; not sure of anything, not sure.

(and a factoid from my childhood: I have two older brothers. my parents explained to me, all my growing up, that they had a third child because they wanted a girl. they wanted me. In a subconscious way, I suspect I feel that that little girl deserves the same effort; that she is me. oh illogical and all that. life's not *&^@ logical. )

2007-10-31T13:09:00.000+10:00

2007-10-30T12:53:00.001+10:00

I was searching my archives for something: found a comment from Cancer, Baby and thought of her...then one from Cary, husband of Lori and clicked across for the first time in maybe a year...she died two days ago.

Goddamn this thing.

I am off to see the oncologist for a review/baby talk. I am lucky and happy to be alive.

2007-10-21T14:26:00.000+10:00

saw the breast surgeon Wednesday. she has declined to offer a recommendation on the 2nd baby question; wants to speak to my oncologist first. as do I.

she said there are two ways of looking at it: the worst risk is over, so go ahead. or, that I've been very lucky and shouldn't push my luck. not in so many words, but that was the effect.

and she asked me: how much do you want another child? just that question. nothing more.

and that's what really got to me. my life is good now, apart from the sex problem. lots of exercise, a lovely boy about to turn 4, etc etc. do I really want to risk it all? neither option appeals. I don't want to give that baby up. I don't want to give my life up.

2007-09-24T10:56:00.001+10:00

my book list is being weird; half a dozen books are missing at the bottom and no clues in the html. so this is a test post to republish in case that makes it work..

2007-09-24T10:48:00.001+10:00

aargh. have got nowhere with my writing this morning. day got off to a crap start when I called the pool at 8 am to book kid in for swim classes - bookings opened today - only to be told that I had to physically go over there to book him in. blame husband for not checking this fact when he took kid in to be assessed. shout at husband, throw phone (lucky for husband he was already on way to work). go to pool in fear of losing spot in the half hour it took me to get there (no, they wouldn't hold it for me, they have a Policy). grumble at pool. staff roll eyes. entire HOUR wasted. hasn't the fucking City of Yarra heard of Internet bookings? credit cards over the phone? (not accepted)? even putting the actual schedule up online so I can see what it is I'm supposed to be asking for?

but at least we have a swim class - not the one I wanted, but as long as husband takes kid along, maybe he'll learn to swim. which, you know, actually matters?

husband is more and more on probation. the big talk only established that he doesn't think he has anything to make up to me re: Hong Kong. there was no "please have another kid, I'll do all I can to make it easy for you". no, apparently it's my attitude that is the problem. and we didn't even get onto the sex, or lack of, thing.

had better force myself to do something with this rare childcare time...

2007-09-21T09:13:00.001+10:00

blind rage moment: no, not a nappy disaster, road rage or my husband. no, ABC Kids, of all the highly trusted sources, has just run a segment called "If Your Happy And You Know It." YOUR! I shouted at the screen: "that's spelt wrong." (yes I should have said wrongly!). son answered: "It doesn't matter!"

but hell, it does. off to send email to producers of said segment pointing this out. really.

2007-08-27T20:39:00.000+10:00

tonight I am a single mum. this is not as bad as it sounds; while husband is in Sydney indulging in-laws' liking for long boring lunches, I get to do things like buy hamburgers and chips for dinner for A. and me. and of course, blog, which I have been quite remiss in the doing of lately.

A. is going well: is down for 2 days a week at big kindy next year, leaving me the option of choosing 1 or 2 days at his existing kindy - probably only 1, as even though as he gets older I seem to have less and less time for my writing (no morning naps, etc), I feel that two 'mummy days' a week is about right. on the weekends, I will try to get his Dad to do as much as is reasonable; his new job means he'll do stuff-all during the week, so it seems both fair and even a good idea for their relationship to do things like book them in for kid swim classes on Saturday mornings. and the taking of A. to parties for random kids whose parents I don't know is still going to be my job; I rang to rsvp for one tonight and the Dad was very pleased; naturally my son is one of his favourite friends.

so I was down with the flu for pretty much two weeks - holiday cancelled - have rescheduled for the week after next, which is OK, but not terribly in line with the idea that I'd have a break before husband started new job. not really a problem for me, but not ideal for husband to be doing dropoff at childcare in his second week. but honestly, I'll go insane if I don't get a chance of scenery, lovely spring Melbourne weather and blooming magnolia trees notwithstanding.

A is: counting up to 20, sometimes even getting all the teen numbers right; reading a few letters (for instance, of course, "A"), correcting me about just about everything; still napping most days; growing longer scruffy rockstar hair which I must get cut; kissing the back of my hand to show he loves me; still sometimes crying in the night; sometimes, too, like today, sleeping until after 8.30 am. all in all a fine little boy.

we have to schedule in some talking time soon to discuss the fate of the embies. as the date I'd thought of - next January - gets closer I find myself not quite ready for various reason. maybe midyear next year; three years post-treatment, after dh's 40th birthday and after a possible overseas trip in April or May (was hoping for New York this September, but accept that it's not happening.) that would make A 5 1/2 or even six before he got a sibling; it's a huge gap. but I can see the advantages. and though every month is a month older for me, (42 next year) if I use the time to get fitter and healthier and build the right kind of life, it's not really a loss. and of course the embies are spring chickens; 36 seemed old to me then, but now is so long ago. of course the ITA extended our storage deadline - what else would they do - and now the new Premier seems ready to drop the government's past inability to act on these issues - he's talking abortion reform, so can better surrogacy laws and even embryo adoption (which does appeal, I have to say) be far away?

more and more I am assuming that I won't die. it's not a conscious thing - just a way of thinking about my life. it has made me a bit slacker with my writing and a bit more easily distracted, but having that little voice of doom move further and further away is worth the loss. I mean, I will die. but not until A and any further babies are over 25 years old. at least. that's enough.

2007-08-11T15:49:00.000+10:00

oh yeah; did I mention - my right hand is swelling up. have spent hours with therapists. I just could not cope with the disfigurement and disabling fx of lymphodema. whinge whinge

2007-08-11T15:33:00.000+10:00

what a weird html view.

anyway, whatever. only logged on to say: I'm sick. kid has been sick (two nights of 40 degree temperatures) and now I'm sick. and so, the three-night trip away, sans child, sans husband, in sunny queensland, is looking like not happening.

why now, God? why not, God answers. I don't exist anyway. work it out for yourself. and so on.

there is a bad strain of flu around. it is probably what I have. I have some flu medication, but it probably came too late. at least A. is better; five kids have died of flu in Australia over the past couple of months. hence much checking on him by me when his temperature was up.

headache. chills. no appetite. inability to move. blogging in bed. you get the picture.

only the Parking Fairy has not deserted me; on Thursday with sick kid got spot right outside favourite bakery, so didn't have to get him out of the car; and this morning after driving 10ks to the pharmacy with the right drugs, also got spot out the front. I love the Parking Fairy.

delirious...

2007-08-02T10:46:00.000+10:00

this is how nice my GP is: 6 pm last night, I'm cooking. my mobile rings. private number. what the hell, I think, I'll answer it. it's my GP, just making sure I understood that the scan results last week were fine. (I didn't blog it, but at my monthly shots we decided the small inflammation in my lymph glands was worth an ultrasound - there went an afternoon, not to mention the stress).

I got it done at my regular clinic, and they said it was all fine, so I didn't make a gp appointment to get my results. but she rang anyway. I seriously believe that with her pushing to get my appointments in 2003, that woman helped save my life. Mwaah!! (kissing sound, not evil laugh...)