Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Judge This

This happened yesterday. I am still terribly upset over this so I need to document this.

I wasn't there, but Apeman took our 6 year old German Shepherd (Max) to the park for his routine walk. We never let Max off the leash unless we know for sure there is nobody else in the park - or only if he is amongst his group of friends (a few big dogs coupled with a few smaller ones). He is a friendly dog and is only interested in a sniff at any new dogs he meet. I know Max. I carried him home as a three month old puppy, he is a beautiful dog and he sits with me quietly after EVERY single one of my failed IVF cycles. This dog has soul.

According to Apeman - he was watching Max until suddenly from a far distance he can hear a dog's bark. It was too late for him to chase after Max because he already heard the barking. We are talking about an entire football field distance here. Max ran up to the female dog owner, who was carrying a toy dog in her arms, there was also another medium sized dog on the leash. Max did his usual dance - he sniffed at the medium sized dog, hoping to get a few plays out of the dog.

Without warning, the dog took a big bite out of Max, bad enough to draw blood. As a retaliation, Max bit back, he held the other dog down by biting into the back. Apeman pulled Max easily away from the other dog. The female dog owner was frantic and screamed `Get your fucking dog away from my dog!'. She was hysterical.

A do-gooder dropped by, and asked if he was needed as a witness. The female dog owner declined the offer. He then turned to Apeman and spat, `If I see your dog on the road next time I will run him the fuck over.'

This is what hurt the most. He will run my Max over. My Max. He didn't even see the blood on my Max's neck. He will drive past us next time and run us the fuck over regardless because he is a big dog holding a smaller dog down.

What followed was the female dog owner took her dog to the vet - she was still hysterical - and asked Apeman to pay for the $400 vet bill. It covers consultation, a surcharge (since it was boxing day), and the dog had needed a few stitches. We rang up and asked about the condition of dog - the vet told us the dog was fine and it a few skin punctures that required the stitches just to be on the safe side. We paid the bill promptly and made sure the dog got everything it needed for recovery.

Then around midnight Apeman got an SMS from this female dog owner. She wanted him to know she hated him, and hated his monster dog for hurting her dog. I am not sure if Apeman received anymore hate messages from this woman, but Apeman knew I am getting really upset over it so he is holding back the news from me.

I cried all night. I cried because I love my dog too. I cried because this has never happened before. I cried because my Max bled too. I cried because people take one look at my Max (who in comparison to the usual breed, is a small German Shepherd), they think he is capable of killing and want to run the fuck over him. I cried because the owner called my Max a monster - Max has never taken a bite out of anything, not even when a wandering cat was sitting right in the middle of our backyard, he only barked to let us know we have an intruder and stayed away from the cat. My Max who nursed me and is my son after all my failed IVF cycles.

I don't doubt that we are in the wrong. It just hurts so terribly that Max, which is very much a part of me and Apeman, was labeled as a monster. A monster doesn't sit with you and lick your tears away when you are in pain. He was, and never will be, that.

Monday, December 25, 2006

Merry Itchy Christmas

It's been a week. I have this full-on itchy stomach that ITCHES like hell. My poor bump is red all over due to my continued scratching. And when I don't scratch it, the skin gets even redder because it was dying for me to scratch it.

I had a cold shower at 3am last night just to get a bit of relief. Only to be woken up by Apeman at 7am this morning for him to complain to me about ME `torturing' my baby bump. I told him I don't even remember scratching my stomach - I had to sleep on my hands just to make sure I don't do it in my sleep. (A friend suggested wearing adult sized mittens).

What ever happened to the promise of shiny happy bumps from the numerous magazine shoots (think Britney Spears, Demi Moore, maternity mags cover girls...). Mine ain't shiny. It's just red.

And SUPER itchy.

Merry Christmas!!!

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

I ain't no Heidi Klum

It happened in Pumpkin Patch.

It is never a forgiving place to start with, espeically for the infertile - I used to dodge that place like it was contaminated. These days I go in there for the recreational `ooh's' and `ahh's' over teddy bear sized swimwear for infants.

It involved a pair of navy blue maternity cargo pants, a kid's size change room and a really unforgiving mirror which happens to give you a totally unobstructed rear view of yourself.

I tried to pull the pants up, it worked all the way up to my hips but that's about it. The span between the `closing the deal' buttons were at least 3cm apart. It was ludricrious.

I took the offending cargos to the counter, wearing the year's best `You've-got-to-be-shitting-me' look on my face. The salesgirl said: `How was it? A bargain isn't it?'

`Yeah but it doesn't fit me - I always thought maternity gear are designed for comfort and for a good maternity fit - this one isn't doing its job I'm afraid.' The salesgirl then explained to me that oh don't worry, you can make it fit you by releasing the button on the elastic band to make it a bit looser. But then she realised I HAD already released the button on the elastic band.

With the help of the change room mirror - I saw my ass clearly for the first time since my bump started to grow. It became really saggy, I have a decent sized spare tyre around my hips - I have also gained alot of weight on the thighs and it seems there is unlimited cellulite on both buttocks and thighs. For fun, I also tried on a tight black top with a pair of black maternity tights. I looked like an adult size Ommpa Loompa.

But you know what, I'm actually okay with it. I came all this way to ride the full pregnancy experience, I am never going to be that skinny girl in my twenties when just about everything looks good and fits. I am gratefully not. I feel really good for the first time in years.

However I did make Apeman promise me that no matter how I look like after the birth, he is totally and completely obligated to continue to have sex with me.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Ambigious Times

Just finished checking up on my fertility sisters, and I am unable to pick up any good news. In fact it was just bad news all round. Especially for a few who really deserves a good break. I wish I can do much more for them because I know how bad it feels - when it seems nothing is working out and you repeatedly gets slapped over and over again.

I am grateful to be able to sit here and write this as a pregnant woman. So grateful that on Saturday night, I was watching Carols by Candlelight with Apeman - Rachel Beck made an appearance to sing Away in a Manger. She was only days away from giving birth and therefore dedicated the song to all mothers and expectant mothers. Big tears started to roll off my eyes (I was mid knitting my baby cardigan) and tearfully said to Apeman - I'm a mom this year, I'm a mom this year.

I wish for much happiness, and good news for the new year - for all my fertility sisters. Nobody should be left out.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Quotes of the day

This is from Apeman's gorgeous niece and nephew (aged 5 & 7):

N1: `Aunty Drew - are you sure you are pregnant?'
Drew: `Yes honey, I am, what makes you say that?'
N1: `Well, did your doctor say you are pregnant? I mean, like, did he check you to see if there really is a baby inside?'
Drew: `Yes.'
N1: `You look a little fat to me that's all. Plus not all pregnancies work out you know.'
Drew: `........'

A few moments later...

N2: `Aunty Drew, when are you going to lay your baby?'
Drew: `Honey, chicken lay eggs, people give birth to babies.'
N2: `So when are you going to lay your baby then?'

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Birthday Bits

It's my birthday and I shall go crazy if I want to. (Ha ha I turn magical 33).

In all stupidness and slackness, I discovered the joys of cyber shoppping. BAD idea. Bad.
Peter Alexander is my best friend. Check this out - this is the cutest thing I have seen in ages. Pregnant-friendly too.

Witchery is just totally hot. Check this out. I got it in Grey. I struggle to wear it so it barely fits, but who the frig cares?

And how about this as a yummy treat. Apeman bought it for me today, but of course in the large, LARGE, LARGE version. Right now this monster is chilling out in my fridge, waiting to be devoured by moi.

Thank God for small favours (and internet shopping).

Monday, December 11, 2006

Before and After Shot

3 weeks prior to conceiving Poopee...

At 24 weeks pregnant - Active Poopee in-utero thrashing & tumbling about, +8kg and a really bad hair cut later....

Thursday, December 07, 2006

23.5 weeks

How do you feel at 23.5 weeks pregnant?
I feel fine. Less petrified, warming to the idea a little bit. I think I can finally relax (just a little) about it since our 20 week scan. I was lying in bed last night, thinking about the past four months, how I managed to survive it (with special thanks to the emergency ward at King Edward Memorial Hospital for providing me with much needed reassurance during desperate times). I also kept thinking about that magical afternoon waiting for a blood test result, hoping for JUST a positive in ovulation that month but ended up scoring a full blown pregnancy. I feel beyond blessed.

How pregnant do you feel?
A bit more than last week.

Are you still nervous?
Shit yeah. I think about Poopee all the time. I can spend hours watching my stomach for any movements. Or if I feel like my bowels are moving just a little, I will try my best to empty it, so the `real baby movements' can be felt as accurately as possible. It's insane. I can't wait for the labour pains to kick in at 40 weeks. Hopefully.

Do you feel guilty about becoming pregnant when there are so many women out there still struggling, some struggled far longer than you?
Yes. Just to give you an example. I have been dreaming about this pregnant moment for so long, that when it finally happened, I found out my mentor at work lost her baby at 20 weeks to a devastating genetic disease. I was therefore too scared to `announce' my pregnancy to workmates even when I was well past the 12 week mark. Then at 21 weeks I told a few friends, and the news spread like bushfire. I then received an email from a male workmate, who congratulated me at first, but told me to be discreet about my pregnancy news (??) because he was afraid my mentor is not coping well with her loss. I told him I have rang my mentor and talked to her about it way before I told everyone else - she was still devastated but was happy for me because she knew how long we had been trying for a baby (she was there to console me two days before I was admitted into surgery to have my ovary removed a year ago after a particularly nasty round of IVF). So now I turn down invitations to work lunches altogether.

Are you looking forward to the birthing process?
I booked myself in for birthing classes in January. I am calm right now. I don't know if I am scared about it yet. The placenta is located right on the wall of my stomach so it is fairly normal, and also means I am likely to give birth the vaginal way. I haven't given much thought about drugs, meditation or other birthing aids, because I haven't read past the 2nd Trimester chapters of my Pregnancy books yet. I am taking this one day at a time.

Name for baby?
Yes, it is my dream name for my dream baby, the baby I have been dreaming about for years. I kept dreaming about a little girl, and now I am having a little girl, so the name is hers. I call her by name all the time and sometimes she responds by giving me little kicks. Or maybe she's just annoyed with my posture making her uncomfortable.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Knitting Times

I almost finished with a small cardigan (Size 000), knitted in white 8-ply acrylic baby soft yarn, for my little Poopee. But after much fiddling (on my part, and also Apeman's part) it no longer looks virginal white. Under a certain light it looks a little dull and muggy.

I am having serious troubles knitting the edges and buttonholes, and also with piecing it together, so I took it to my local Spotlight and asked for some help. I know this lady there, who is kind enough to offer me some help during her precious lunch hour. Bless her.

While she was teaching me - a lady popped her head in and oohed and ahhed over my cardigan, which was nice. But then she started to ask me if I am having a boy or girl. I said oh we are saving that as a surprise (white lie).

Well that is why I bought white yarn. It doesn't lead to any conclusion because we want to keep family and friends in suspense.

I just hope nobody drops by and see my growing stash of pink coverlets, wraps, little baby pullovers, and stuffed toys (dressed in pink and yellow outfits). Cute Poopee.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

We Have Contact

Two days ago I got woken up at 5:36am with serious bubbling of gas in stomach. I promptly went to the toilet to ease myself into a reasonable dump (bowel movement to the more refined) for a bit of a relief.

Once done, I returned to bed, patted Apeman on the head and tried to go back to sleep. The `gas bubbling' had gotten worse. So no more sleep for me and I sat in bed wide awake.

That afternoon, whilst watching TV with Apeman, I complained about the lack of sleep, and suddenly the stomach started to REALLY bubble. I pulled my top to review my dancing stomach, little prods and kicks can been seen clearly - unlike the gentle `nudges' I was feeling before in the lower pelvic region. This time it was right on the stomach.


And we have made contact.

Friday, November 24, 2006

A Friend From Far, Far Away

I `met' my friend Vix whilst browsing through and commenting on an US-based infertility chat forum several years ago. Back then I already had 4 IVF cycles under my belt, and she is a thirty-something married woman who had been trying to get pregnant for a few years, but was too scared to venture into the world of IVF.

We became fast friends, and despite our time and location difference (she lives in US, I live in Australia), we managed to email each other daily, telling each other about our lives, ttc stories, medical talks, and general chit chats. We swapped photos and talked about our husbands at lengths. This went on for more than a year.

Then one day she told me about this sum of money she and her husband had inherited. She had two choices - either to go on a big holiday or to finally give IVF a shot. Vix was worried about dabbling in IVF because she saw it as a `final frontier', and if that didn't work out she will have nothing to turn to. Finally after weeks of discussions back and forth, I talked her into it and she brought home her first injections.

4 eggs collected turned into 3 embryos, and on Day 3, she only had 2 to transfer. Two weeks later she sent out an email to friends and family announcing her pregnancy. I was over the moon for her - especially because we had been friends for so long, and I know how much she had wanted to be a mom. She made the best halloween customes for herself and I have great hopes for her unborn as the best dressed kid(s).

Twins were born eight months later, a boy and a girl. The prettiest pair of twins ever. She emailed me to let me know how much she valued our friendship, and how much she wished for something good to happen to me eventually. I told her it is already great that at least IVF worked for one of us - I told her I refuse to lose faith in IVF.

A few months later, during a particularly dark day, I wrote to her to tell her about my latest cycle failure, I mentioned in the email about `finding it difficult to cope with life because I kept getting knock-backs'. I may sound suicidal, but I really wasn't that bad. I just want somebody to listen to me whinge because I was in so much pain, and couldn't talk to any of my real friends because none of them are reproductively challenged. Plus I thought she would understand my pain too. I felt really vulnerable, and really, really sad.

And then nothing.

I haven't heard from her ever since. Occasionally (like once every half year), I was included in her group emails of a funny joke, or a christmas greeting, but she never wrote to me personally again. I felt so horrible, especially when I had opened myself up entirely to her.

Two weeks ago I wrote to her to tell her about my pregnancy. And you guessed it - again no reply.

It's a very sad, but raw truth in the world of cyber-friendship.

Monday, November 20, 2006

What's Normal Got to do with it?

At 21 weeks pregnant today, I did some recollecting:

1. I still check for bleeding everytime I wee, poo, or anytime in between when I have a `wet' feeling in my nether regions. Other `normal' pregnant women in my situation are probably assembling baby cots by now.

2. I wake up, every morning without fail, and view my stomach against the mirror in the bedroom. I want to make sure the baby bump is still there, and all that had happened wasn't just a nice dream afterall.

3. At 5 months pregnant, and despite quite obviously showing, I still ask Apeman on a daily basis - do I look pregnant or do I look like I had a big meal instead?

4. I still stare at other pregnant women with admiration, but with small part of jealousy. I wish I can wear my pregnancy as proudly as they do. My sister was dying to take a picture of me with my baby bump, but I refused. I honestly don't know what I am scared of.

5. I bought a new bra today, a bigger one to fit my pregnant boobs, but kept the receipt, `just in case'.

Despite my various hang-ups, I am too happy to be here, right now, with my poopee. I love you so much it hurts me to think how little positiveness I have in me. I hope poopee you grow up to have the optimism of your father, even though he is a bit of an Apeman.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Date Night

Finally I was able to convince Apeman, to spare himself from various brick-lifting activities, and take me to the movies on Saturday night. We haven't been on a date night for ages. Because we are both relatively quiet people (post marriage) we tend to be good homebodies and stay in most weekends.

We had a choice of either the intensely plotted `The Departed', or Jackass 2, and since I am a huge fan of the Knoxville team - of course it had to be the Jackass movie.

I wasn't disappointed. The over the top toilet humour was just what I needed - I haven't laughed like for a long time. As I was chuckling away I can feel my little poopee wriggling gently.

And I am sure nobody was seriously hurt in the movie...

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

The Detour

Really hot day today. I took my twins (new boobs) out to lunch with my friend who is leaving Perth for sunny Queensland next week.

On my way back from lunch, I was going to drop by Supre to look for a nice loose playsuit to wear because the days are definitely getting hotter. But I decided to finally break the ice with my infertility hang-ups and took a different turn into a baby shop with a warehouse type set-up.

I declined help from the shop assistant, and amused myself for about twenty minutes checking out the various type of beds, bassinets and cot sheets. I have no idea there are so many types of bed sheets/cloak things/wraps for babies. Who would know what a `bumper' is for without an illustrated pictorial?

There was a sale on, so I picked up a soft blanket, and two gorgeous little wraps for less than $30. All tastefully done and in my favourite colour. They are now safely tucked away in my drawer - and probably will be frequently played with (by me) over the next few months.

Monday, November 13, 2006

I Can Breathe....

I just had my 19/20 week scan this morning. It has been so difficult to breathe for the past few months because of all the internet research I did, the stories I read regarding the tragedies of my fellow IF sisters, and personal stories from my friends.

I am so incredibly happy, and grateful, to say that everything is okay. The baby is a little bigger than expected which means it takes my EDD back three days to 3rd April. The moment the scan was completed I burst into tears for the second time this morning due to all the pant-up pressure (the first time was when we were told the sex of the baby).

And, I am not supposed to disclose the sex of the baby, but if you have been following my last few posts, I can say that my dream has come true. :)

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Heaven Couldn't Wait

Oh dear, dear God.

I thought Belinda was in remission and was ready to start a family with Rove - after all that she had been through.

I thought they will both live happily ever after - such a beautiful and sweet couple. Two kindred spirits.

May you rest in peace Belinda - you left behind a beautiful man who loves you very much.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Near Freak Incident

So last night, whilst watching TV with Apeman, I ducked off during a commercial break to wee.

I wiped - and saw specks of bright red blood coming off with my cervical mucous. I wiped again, and again, and again, and it kept coming off. It wasn't much, just specks of blood, but bright red, and any bleeding is a freakout. And I am the queen of all freakouts.

Me: `So what do we do?'
Apeman: `It is probably nothing.'
Me: `So what happens if it is something? You are not supposed to see blood at 19 weeks?'

So, just on the safe side, Apeman took me to the hospital for a check up.

Thankfully the staff at the hospital were really helpful and calming. They checked to see if I have any cramping (no), weakness (no), or if I am bleeding clots (no). I was laid out on the examination table and a midwife used the doppler sound machine thing on me. We couldn't hear a heart beat. But we could hear the placenta pumping away.

`The sound of the placenta pumping blood is a good sign - it means there should be a heartbeat in there somewhere.' But she tried again and again and we could not hear the heart beat.

The doctor came in later and gave me an ultrasound. It took her two seconds to get a full picture of my little poopie. He/she was playing with his/her face, waving the arms about, and then all of sudden, decided to `moon' us all and did a 180 degree body flip. I can also faintly see the wriggling of fingers. We cannot see much else, but that was reassuring enough for us.

Thank you God for giving me this moment. I am so, so grateful.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

The Other Dream

Been having this dream since I left my full time engineering job.

It always starts with me running late for a lecture - and always physics. I hate physics - I try to have very little to do with it (though it doesn't work because I need it occasionally). I especially hated physics lectures. I can say I love Maths - but no, not physics. It's fucked.

Or - another scenario will be I was running behind with finishing off my assignment. I was running around everywhere - chasing after this and that and somehow I can never find the time to finish off my work even though I know it was due, like, yesterday.

I will be all anxious, because I was running so late, sometimes I cry because of the nervousness of it all. Sometimes I just wish this is all just a bad dream. And ha ha. It always was.

And I am always grateful to wake up and realise it has all been a bad dream. But it always leave a bad after taste in my mouth. Like I swallowed a bug or something. Or I wake up sweating profusely because I was so anxious.

I think it has something to do with the fact that I am not working anymore - it just feels like I am missing out of something everyday.

On a perkier note - I cut my hair yesterday. I had long, shiny, straight dark hair and I CUT it all off because it has been so hot. I did promise myself that if I ever get lucky (a.k.a. pregnant), I will cut my hair real short. The hairdresser did an okay job - afterwards I went home and laid in bed and couldn't say a word for the next three hours. I nearly cried. But didn't.

It was a little devastating, but it was, at the same time, like a soul revival.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

The Dream

So far this year I already had four or five baby dreams - three of them I had before I'd fallen pregnant.

Last night, it was a delivery dream. It was so realistic - I was calling my baby by the name me and Apeman had decided on years ago. I was cradling the baby as soon as she was born. (Yes, SHE. I always dream about giving birth to a baby girl). I was nursing her. I was comforting her when she started to cry. I was saying to the midwife - `It's her isn't it? It's a girl? It's my girl! It's M......'. Then the tears.

Was at Miss Maud's today getting my fix. A small slice of black forrest cake straight from heaven. I joked to the lady and said,

`Ha - maybe I should just buy the whole cake instead of this tiny slice and get it over and done with!'.

And then I felt a nudge in the pelvic region - much like a persistent caress.... my baby agreed.

I think.

Monday, November 06, 2006

People Should .....

Yes. She and Guy Ritchie are rich, and thus this makes them powerful, and therefore they can adopt whenever and however way she wants.

Unlike the thousands of Australians who have to jump hoops and turn tricks for two+ years, spending bucketloads of money, just so they can be parents themselves. The same authorities should look into preaching birth control to 13 year olds who are kids themselves.

Another child is saved from poverty. People should just shut the fuck up and leave the new family alone so they can get on with their lives.

I maybe a little biased because I've been a fan when she was the Material Girl in the eighties...

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

17 weeks 4 days

Two things:

1. My brother and new sister in law (who only got married four months ago at the age of 26) announced that they are pregnant - baby due only two months after ours. I was a little shocked but over the moon for them.

2. I found out by accident that my father is cheating on my mom with a tart young enough to be my daughter (and with a breathy little voice like Marilyn Monroe).... I can't verbalise this right now because it gets me angry and instill murder thoughts in my brain. I shall rationalise this in another post when I am ready. I really hate him right now. Fuck the both of them. Oh....have to stop here.

My first time parents friends rushed out to buy (and assembled on the same night) a baby bed - top of the range from Toys R Us - two days shy of her 10 week milestone. I can understand their excitement and admired their bravery.

The things I have collected so far:

1. Four infant one piece coveralls (furry type, thick for winter), in the colours of pink, lavendar, baby blue and navy blue. I was at the shops with my mother in law, and we came across these great bargains, they were heavily reduced to $2 each. My MIL insisted I buy them straight away because they were good quality rompers and at an incredibly ridiculous price. I was quite reluctant at first (I was 13 weeks then), but she was quite persistant. And so I did.

2. My goodie bag. I have this bag since I was 27. In it there is a cute baby girl dress, probably a tad too small but was meant for a newborn. There is also a yellow one piece overall, suitable for summer, it's cute with little bears on the chest. Then there is my favourite `bear ears' baby bonnet. I used to hold the bear ears against my face whenever I feel down (eg. after a bad IVF cycle). I want to feel something soft and beautiful and want to remind myself this journey is worth pursuing till the end.

3. My sister bought me a `superbaby' bib and two pairs of booties (suitably one pair of pink and one pair of blue). She bought them from Steve Irvin's Australia Zoo. I loved the gifts and the thought of having a piece of Steve's Zoo.

And that is all.

Sunday, October 15, 2006


Words cannot even describe how I feel about this. I spent yesterday in tears - crying for Manuela, Mr P and their Shoelet.

I don't even know what to say.

I coincidentally was met by a bunch of teenage girls at the emergency hospital (I don't even want to elaborate why I was there, but I am okay). These girls were no taller or bigger than my 9 year old niece, three of them lugging a crawling baby with them. The `mother' was a emaciated white faced girl, probably 14? Maybe 15? She was apparently 8 weeks pregnant, and only a few months ago had a bad miscarriage, and now she is bleeding again. Her two friends were there to lend support and to look after her wandering baby in dirty clothes.

After waiting in the rooms for half an hour, she casually walked up to the Triage nurse and asked if there is enough time to `go out for a fag'. The nurse grimly nodded, and the girl fumbled in her bag for her cigarettes. She later returned with her friends and baby with packet chips, sausage roll for herself and bottles of coke for all. The baby wanted food. So she fed the baby big sips of coke, and pieces of chips. The baby cried for more, she told him to shut up you little shit. And turned to her friend and said this is so fucking annoying.

I cringed and closed my eyes.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

The cat out of the recycled bag

Finally my Apeman was able to tell his parents about our pregnancy. My poor Ape had been been withhelding the information for so long - and when he finally was able to tell his parents he couldn't be any prouder or happier. According to his parents, we are having a little piglet in accordance with the Chinese Zodiac calendar.

It took less than 8 hours for the news to travel. And the reaction we received was interesting.

We were greeted with a few - `Oh, FINALLY we are able to congratulate you guys! It's been a LONG while!'

Ah...yeah. Like 6 years. But we never told anybody we were actively trying. We kept our IVF journey to ourselves (apart from some understanding friends and workmates). And if anybody was nosey enough to keep asking, we simply reply with a curt `We're not ready to have children'. Didn't realise people were putting a timer on us.

But the rest of the reactions were nice. My grandma was really happy for me. I said I feel so bad that it happened only after my grandpa passed away, because I still miss him daily. Grandma said she will let Grandpa know, he will be so happy.

Physically-wise, I am looking a little rounder in the stomach at 12.5 weeks, a bit like the stomach I get after a big meal. But it is definitely noticably rounder just under the belly-button. I am also a littler clingier to Apeman....always wondering what he is doing and getting shitty about it. Apeman thought that was pretty amusing. He said I am a nag now.

About a year ago I was on vacation overseas and a girl at the make-up counter (from which I was buying something from), asked how far long was I. I then realised I was resting my contented stomach (from a big meal) on the counter whilst fumbling for my purse. I felt I had no choice but to admit (happily) that I was indeed pregnant. She said ahhhh congratulations I bet you are 3 months worth. It was so embarrassing and I went back to the hotel and did some stomach crunches immediately.

Today, after a big meal at a local cafe (cravings for eggs and bacon), the cafe owner came by and said - I bet you are having a girl. I was shocked to see he can actually see my belly - hidden under a loose top. I smiled and he told me he had three sons, so he can tell.

It was my first `pregnancy tag'. It was very nice for a change.

Saturday, September 23, 2006


This is not a post about hygiene... but about something that is lower than the lowest form of scum.

Maybe a year ago or so, I mentioned in one of my post about one of Apeman's cousin-in-law - a man in his late thirties, who shouldn't be referred to as a man because he isn't. The biggest chauvinistic egotistic person I had ever known.

This person, I will call him Cousin J - was supposed to be happily married to Apeman's cousin for 14 years. They were childhood sweethearts, and because both were happy enough to not carry on with further education, they had decided to marry young and started a business in a small country town.

The business flourished, but there were rumours of fertility problems because the family chatters about it all the time. (You see my problem?). Six years later they decided to close down the business and move back to the city. A year later their first daughter was born under relatively stress free conditions (well, he didn't work).

Cousin J started to whinge to the Alpha Males of the family, about the importance of having a male `heir' (oh puuuuulease!), and how girls will eventually marry off and is worth nothing to her own family except to be fertility slaves to their husbands. This man clearly is from another century and probably should stay there.

Rumours of fertility problems kicked up again, this time it was secondary infertility for them. Everybody knew he was keen to have another child. Three and a half years later, the wife was finally pregnant again.

A scan was conducted at five months - the couple found out about the sex of the baby but kept to themselves. Things started to travel downhill from here. As the delivery date approaches, family and friends congratulated the couple for a job well done, it so happens one day my sister in law bumped into Cousin J at the shops, he was hanging out with mates whilst his heavily pregnant wife was at home tending to their daughter. My sister in law later recounted this conversation to me.

`Hey J, congratulations!'
`So you excited about the baby? It's due anyday now!'
`So that's it hey? Your wife must be stoked'
`Yeah well, you know, I want more children, I love kids so much I would love to have another one real soon.'
`....But you are having one real soon already? Isn't your wife due next week?'

He did not mention about the impending birth, nor did he show any excitement once the baby was born - another girl. The poor girl didn't have a name for a month because he was so disinterested in naming her.

Even before the forceps were packed away, and before the stitches were healed, Cousin J annouced the couple's third pregnancy a few months later. And probably with a sigh of relief from all - mostly from his wife, the third child was a boy. I saw the wife soon after the birth of their third child, she looked like mess trying to tend to three children on her own most times, and looked far older than her 36 years.

Interestingly, even with the birth of his famliy `heir', Cousin J showed very little emotion, and we saw even less of him. And even less of his children, we still aren't sure if the second child has a name.

It came to his wife's attention several months ago that, apparently Cousin J had fathered two children during his overseas visits (all conducted during his wife's pregnancies), and was (and still is) sleeping with a third girl who works with him. After months of trying to get her husband to go on a much needed holiday with her, his wife decided she had enough and went alone, only to discover that the same day she flew out of town he left his three kids with a friend and booked a romantic stay at a local holiday resort with his lover. The rest of the can of worms reviewed themselves soon after.

Divorce proceedings had been filed. Cousin J swears he will use his new found hobby (black magic) to hurt anybody who dares interferes with his marital and personal business.

Writing this post gives me a bad taste in my mouth. He is trully foul. He needs to be deported from this planet.

Friday, September 22, 2006

I am officially a stalker

What do I do, when two days in a row I had stomach cramps, the boobs have gone done in size, and I don't `feel' pregnant anymore? I am no longer bloated either. No nausea in two weeks, only a slight sickly feeling at night time after dinner.

I go straight to the hospital again and scratched on their doors. I am officially their stalker of the year.

I went in there with a thick face - shyly (not slyly) checking myself in with the Triage nurse, then I sat down quietly in my corner to wait for a midwife to see me, whilst sneaking little looks at the nurse who was registering my details using the computer, just to make sure they hadn't posted my photo up on the `Dangerous - Do Not Admit' notice board.

I feel so embarrassed. But I guess it's okay to post this story here because you don't know how I look like.

Just happy to say, the cramps were due to my pelvic adhesions - a leftover gift from my previous operations, and possibly due to nerves. Not sure about the boobs and nausea - probably because the hormones have calmed already, I think. The uterus is already large enough to be scanned on the abdomen (instead of the pelvis). My little 12 week old wriggled, jerked, bounced and generally moved so much that the doctor had problems giving he/she the head to rump measurements - it is roughly 6cm. A little low on the amnionic fluids because I had been so nervously dehydrated - that's probably why my little one is jumping up and down!

I will try not to make another visit to the hospital - for as long as I can, unless I absolutely have to, spoken like a true stalker.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

A Moment In Ape

During a commercial break....

Apeman: 'Babe, why don't we go buy an ultrasound machine?'
Drew (choking): `Oh that's just so Tom and Katie.'
Ape: `Who's Tom and Katie?'
D: `Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. They had a baby girl you know.'
Ape: `Who's Katie Holmes?'
D: `Tom's fiance, "Joey" from Dawson's Creek.'
Ape: `Never heard of her.'
D: `She flashed her tits in that `Gift' movie about a clairvoyant.'
Ape: `Aw yeah, I know her. Why don't you say so in the first place. Still, an ultrasound machine would be good, you can see the baby everyday.'
D: `You can't just ultrasound yourself everyday, it can be dangerous, plus what the hell are you going to do with the machine once you are done with it?'
Ape: `I will give it to my brother.'

Thanks to everybody who dropped by with their congratulations. I am slowly getting used to the idea of being `pregnant' now. Yesterday I celebrated my 11 week milestone lying in bed because the uterus must be leaning on a nerve close to where my left ovary used to be. I have been getting these mind numbing pains all the way up my spine through to the tops of my left thigh. I asked Apeman is it too obsessive complusive to go straight to the emergency hospital for some answers. He calmly explained to me that it is probably the stomach ligaments stretching to accomodate the growing baby. So I should relax and focus on something else. He is amazing but I have to wonder where he got that bit of information from.

Monday, September 11, 2006


I hope this doesn't read like one of those ungrateful, self-absorbed, smug-pregnant post. That is not my intention and I am never that type of girl. I am so incredibly humbled by what has happened to me and I still wake up every morning feeling incredibly grateful and in disbelieve.


You waited patiently for years for a miracle to happen, and would give anything to have a little life growing inside you - and to feel you are just as normal as the neighbours next door who said they wanted to conceive a baby by July and did - almost without effort.

Then the miracle happened. Or rather - like I used to say to girlfriends who are trying for a baby too - my number came up.

And then with every waking hour you spent checking for bleeding and assessing stomach twinges. Even during night time. When I wake up from my restless sleep I feel I need to wipe myself just to check. It's crazy.

It is so insane that yesterday, because I drank a little too much water in the morning, I ended up peeing every 10 minute or so. Plus these days the bladder doesn't work as well as it used to - it takes up to three or more trips to the toilet just to empty my bladder. So obviously I spent a little too much time wiping.

Then the next wipe I see faint spots of blood.

I shit myself. I couldn't breathe. I stopped doing everything. I took a shower and went to bed straight away. Apeman came home from hunting (he doesn't hunt for real, but he goes off and do things like move furniture for mates or bricks or what not all the time), and asked what's wrong babe.

`I think I am bleeding oh fuck.'

`Just calm yourself down, it will be okay.'

Then suddenly I realise I have been suppressing a light stinging sensation in my nether regions. I checked again. The bleeding came from the skin because I was WIPING MYSELF SO FREAKING MUCH!

You dopehead. I said to myself.

Just sleep because you are stressing yourself out and the baby. Just sleep.

And I did.

I confided in my sister-in-law about my pregnancy a few days ago, she had three kids and I figured I need to speak to somebody who had children more recent than my mom. She told me to relax, think happy thoughts for the baby. I said some days I really am happy - I think nursery, baby blues and pinks, I think about finally being able to hold my baby for the first time and kissing the baby multiple times on the cheek just like I do with Apeman when I am feeling lovable. Then there are the dark days - when I am feeling down and pessimistic. Sister in law reckons its the hormones - she said it often fluctuates and you can have very extreme moods.

I put it down to the hang-ups of being an infertile for so many years. I recently realise that my mother in law no longer talks to me about children (if somebody in the family has fallen pregnant, she tells everyone else but me). She won't even let me hold on to Apeman's niece's hand when we are out on the street - I don't know if she is being possessive of the child or maybe she thinks I must be some sort of anti-christ feminist who couldn't fall pregnant like everyone else in the family so all children must stay away from Aunty Drew. (She doesn't know about our pregnancy yet). And not just my mother in law - some friends are like that too.

I have to laugh - thinking that a couple of weeks ago I was asked by the sweet nurses from the fertility centre (who, bless them, circled me like I am the most popular girl in school), asked me if I have chosen an obs doctor yet and have I decided which hospital to give birth in. I stared at them blankly and said, `Really?'. It almost feel like they are talking to somebody behind me rather than me.

Okay - now that I have dumped all my hang-ups here, I feel much better.

Apart from this bonus of having a baby in my belly finally, I am also pleased to say I have also been blessed with a great set of boobs. Definitely an upgrade from my usual A-cup variety.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

10 week scan

We went to our 10 week scan yesterday. I woke up feeling edgy. I ate my lunch feeling edgy. I got dressed at 1pm when the appointment was for 4pm. Because I was feeling anxious, and edgy. So I try to relax and read some of the information leaflets Apeman brought home from the maternity hospital a few weeks ago (I checked myself in at 7 weeks due to minor bleeding).

Apeman got me the following pregnancy related information pamplets:
1. Eating for two
2. Thrush
3. Pre-menstrual Syndrome (??) Apparently Apeman thought PMS is a type of pregnancy symptom.

I am one of those really annoying people who turn up half an hour early for their appointments - even for waxing. So as usual I was half an hour early.

Fortunately my doctor was happy to see me (because he had a gap in appointments yesterday) so he ushered me into his office as soon as I walked into his practice. Initially he said why don't we try to do a pelvic scan, maybe we can see something there instead of having to go vaginally. I said okay. He rolled the scan across my pelvic region over and over again - nothing. Just masses of muscle can be seen on the screen - no gestational sac. No baby.

I panicked.

The doctor explained to me that it is because I have a big pelvic scar that was in the way (from my ovary exitus surgery) - so he didn't want to press any harder to get the picture. Let's go vaginal probe. He said remove your pants and we will try again.

Like my life depended on it, I pulled off my pants and panties in a hurry as soon as the doctor walked away.

My sweet Apeman came to help me.

`Don't worry babe, slow down, it's okay'.

Doctor came back - the vaginal probe feels alot larger than my scan at 8 weeks, or maybe because I am so swollen inside it seems to take ages for him gently ease the probe to the right spot.

Suddenly on the screen we see a blob. A small blob. Smaller than the image we saw during our 8 week scan. I was told to use my hands to support my buttocks so they can be lifted up slightly. It seemed to help a little.

`Ah...there's the little one, and there's the heartbeat'.

Apeman giggled a little upon seeing his unborn's heartbeat.

`How come it seemed so small?' I asked.

`It's because the baby is sitting at angle to us this time, so you are looking down at the baby's head or rump'.

Suddenly - on the screen I see something jerked. I saw a tiny little `branch' jerked outwards suddenly and then retreated.

`That's either the arm or leg, most probably the arm because they are longer than the legs at the moment.' Explained doc.

I started to tear up and smiled for the first time that day.

Doc tapped on the screen and said to my sweet little bub - `Come on, do it again for mom and dad.'

As if the baby heard him, one of the limbs jerked out again - this time a little wave, then retreated.

I thought I died and went to heaven. Last night I told Apeman the day we had today was one the happiest days of my life - so far.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

In Silence

In case if any of you had been dropping by and wondering what the hell happened to me. Well I have two good reasons:

1. My laptop got hijacked. Brother in law decided that he is better off taking MY laptop with him for his business holiday - that was a month ago. I got my laptop back today - completely scratched beyond recognition (my first reaction was - what is this piece of shit?) and missing the most important part - THE FREAKING POWER CONNECTION LEAD. Fuck's sake. He left it in China. Not sure if I will be getting a replacement back either.

2. I am pregnant. Petrified. Numb. Weeing up to 20 twenty times a day due to compressed bladder and anxious.

The number two statement is not a joke (neither was the first). I am still trying to come to terms with it and wake up daily thinking the worst is still to come because I am un-derserving. I am not shitting you. My doctor TOLD me I have no chance. It is not physically possible. Here's what happened.

Since coming back from my US holiday early July - I had been patiently waiting for my period to show up. I saw the doctor - he said you might as well think about alternative options because so far everything he throws in my direction is not working. I carried on my life as per normal - with no expectations and no regrets.

I honestly have no expectations.

Day 42 into my cycle and still no period. I rang the clinic and whinged - complaining that my ovary is playing up again and had lost the will to ovulate. The kind nurse said why don't you come in for a blood test to check for ovulation.

I did, and I have already ruled out a possible pregnancy because that sort of stories only happen to good and lucky people. Not me. Me with the inpenetrable endometrium. In saying that - this cycle I had carried out two ovulation tests and a pregnancy test at various times and were all negative. So that was that.

I didn't hear from the clinic that afternoon so eventually I called them for my results. I didn't want to sit through a sulky sunday contemplating surgery options and wondering why I cannot just ovulate like other women.

The nurse apologised for the late results, and told me the results were looking good so far(progesterone at 78), but they are still working on my pregnancy test. I was deliriously happy - "Does that mean I ovulated this cycle?", the nurse promptly replied, "Oh yes Drew you definitely did". I was happy as pie. I am normal. I went back to help Apeman with moving some 10 kg bags of cement from his truck.

Five minutes later. I got a call. It was nurse. She started off sounding all secretive. Then she told me she's got a positive on my pregnancy test.

I lost the ability to stand and speak English. I started to repeat `Wha..wha..wha?'. I was trying to ask her HOW, and WHY, and for how long. She must have been used to these type of reactions, so she told me my HCG was 12,500, and I am more than likely to be six weeks along. Apeman came from nowhere because he heard my wailing and hugged me tight.

I had been in a state of shock since then. I still cannot believe it. I haven't been able to verbalise my fear and cry tears of happiness since then. Except for sad movies, Australian Idol selection and some good advertisements showcasing babies and puppies.

I was discharged at 7 weeks from my fertility centre. Everybody contragulated my spontaneous pregnancy.

I had my 8 week scan. My bub was kicking and moving already and the little heart beating happily away. Not to mention the right dimensions for its age too.

On friday I will have my 10 week scan.

Nausea came in a hurry soon after I discovered my pregnancy, everything I eat comes out straight away. Fortunately nausea has stopped pretty much after 9 weeks, and now I am stuck with a sick feeling at night and can only be comforted through eating. (I hate a whole cake - please forgive me).

I am completely petrified and not able to explain what happened. I cannot even remember having sex and did not even know I ovulated and worried this maybe one of those immaculate conception. I didn't know I can do it naturally - after all those years of getting the best laboratory and technical help. I am the human walking and talking contraception and here I am, writing about my newfound pregnancy.

I have not told a soul. Only my mother knows. Because I am dead scared. I am trying to stay hopeful and be positive.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Mute is the Game

Just dropping by to say thanks to all who left lovely, lovely comments for me. It is really nice to know that I have friends from the cyber-space who are so genuinely nice. I wish I can meet all of you and give you those hugs. Not cyber hugs - real, bear hugs.

Also want to let you know that my review appointment went pretty crap. I was told by my doc the following hard facts:

1. So far I had collected 13 IVF cycles, on top of that there were 4 cancelled cycles, numerous clomid cycles, injections cycles, tracking (non-medicated) cycles - over a span of 6 years. (Pffft...)
2. The final cycle was a PGD cycle, and achieved 11 follicles.
3. Only 8 made it to fertilisation.
4. Only 6 made it to blastocyst stage.
5. Only 1 out of 6 is classified normal.
6. Despite PGD results indicated that I indeed had a`normal' embryo to implant, the actual PGD screening in fact only screens for 13 known abnormalities. There are still hundreds which cannot be screened due to lack in technology. So the chances of my `normal' embryo been REALLY NORMAL is not exactly 100%. I almost snorted in front of the doctor at the remoteness of this conversation.

This is bullshit.

7. I asked a final question - what are my real chances? (If there is a time I wish to hear something positive, even bullshit lines like if I relax I can get pregnant, is right now). Instead he asked have I considered donor eggs? Have I got a sister who wants to lend me her eggs? What about a good friend? Have you considered adoption even? I said what do you mean doctor? He said Drew your chances of ever getting pregnant is looking GRIM. Yes - he said the bad word. GRIM.

And that was 3 weeks ago. I walked out of the clinic feeling like shit, but excited at the same time. I SOOOO want to prove him wrong. Instead of considering his `options', I asked to be monitored for an IUI cycle next time. I want to do something less invasive. He said Drew you are probably better off doing another PGD cycle - that is the only way you can ever conceive. I said no thanks doctor. Not until my next birthday. Please sign me up for an IUI. He reluctantly sent me off to the nurse to discuss IUI procedures.

But things are looking up. I promise. I will post again soon. I believe that this whole baby thing is all about timing. Not some tit-bit itsy bitsy bullshit screening that costs a shit load.

Watch this spot.

And whilst you are watching - you ladies out there who share my dream hang in there. It's worth the wait.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

New Me

So here I am - back from my long break. Spent a week in Hong Kong, then four weeks stumbling abouts with bad maps and bad driving in the US/Canada. It was wonderful to say the least. Oh we had lots of sex. Unprotected sex in various hotels around America. Nice ones with crisp 600 thread count sheets, dingy ones faintly smell of cigarettes and urine. And before anybody say anything about holiday lucky pregnancy.... (Snort). As if.

The propects of having no REAL job to go back to is scary. More on that later.

I went to check on my friend Thalia - and oh dear God. Oh Thalia. I am so sorry.

I was in Vancouver when my workmate informed us that his wife is pregnant after their second attempt at IVF. I was happy for them because I had the pleasure to bump into his wife at a local diner just before we left - and she is absolutely lovely. She has `new mom' written all over her. But by the time we reached LA a few weeks later - I got a sad email from him informing me that the pregnancy was tragically ectopic - and she had to be scheduled in for emergency surgery to `cut out the live embryo'. My heart broke on the spot. Oh dear God.

So after much soul searching during my holiday past month - and considered the fact that I actually enjoyed having sex the last few weeks without consciously thinking about getting pregnant, I figured, WHAT IS THE PURPOSE IN ALL OF THESE?

I spent enough time the past 6 years doing the IVF dance - fucking around with various expensive techniques and engaged in hardcore hormone experimentations, had tried to overcome my fear of injections and bloodtests, and spent weeks moaning about another IVF failure, and why couldn't I get pregnant just like Britney Spears, in the end what do I get out of it?

I just got older. And a little broke.

So in the light of all that positivity - I now am happy to say I am relatively content with my life. Just happy to be around, able to type, able to take time of work and just chill for a bit, and do some thinking.

For now anyway. Until the next hormone meltdown, I am happy to say I am A-okay.

Am having a review meeting with the big-Doc on Thursday to discuss my last failed cycle. He is probably going to say, blah blah, blah blah blah, your chances are slimmer now that you have done so many IVF cycles... but for an extra $4000 we can try this technique....

Friday, June 02, 2006

Last Day Charlie

45 minutes to go.  Till freedom – freedom from my day job.


I am feeling quite sad actually – because this is all I know – getting dressed in the morning, curling my eyelashes, trying to work out what to wear.  Last minute ironing.  Feed my poor dog who looks totally heartbroken every morning when we leave for work.  Rush through peak hour traffic, then stagger into work in complete disarray and with mad hair. 


Then a FULL day of waiting for the clock to tick away.  Sometimes the excitement gets a bit too much for me because I have to wait for a blood test result or beta result.  Those days are the absolute worst.


Dickwit just came by and made an attempt to look at the subject of this email (I am posting using work email) whilst pretending to ask me a question.  I coolly waved him off. This is not the right time to ask me about a number I made up three months ago for some random calculation based on assumptions.  Spare me the drama please.


42 minutes to go. 

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Against My Own Sane Will

In my own little geek world (ie. my engineering department), we have a team of four people. I am the only girl (whoopie to that - because this means I am the resident secretary, minute-taker, computer expert, gofer, relationship analyst and social planner), the other two guys are married and are in their mid thirties, and another guy who is probably the luckiest of us all because he is a bachelor in his fourties and has an amazing bachelor pad complete with a personally designed and self built pergola and a custom ordered telescope. Oh, and no fertility problems.

By accident, whilst chatting to one of the married guys a few weeks ago, I discovered about his fertility problems - and realise him and his wife had just undergone their first IVF treatment just a month before my PGD cycle. Unfortunately for them, the result was a negative.

He was one of the people I let in about my PGD cycle, and he was one of the first person to ask me how did it go.

So anyway - today, as in right now, he is waiting for the beta result of their second cycle. He is so excited about it that he took the day off so he can wait by the phone with his wife. He told me yesterday that he is very optimistic that this is going to work for them, and in three months time when his wife is three months into her pregnancy, they will most likely sell their current house and buy a slightly bigger house to welcome the new baby - and if they couldn't find anything decent to buy, he might just put an extension to the house to accomodate a nursery. Then it will be more kids for them soon after the first one is born because they don't want to wait.

It's all very good and well, except this morning I arrived at work feeling like shit. It's as if I am going through the whole 2 week wait and beta result again. I feel lousy because it seems everybody else is getting pregnant after undergoing between 1 to 5 cycles and I am still pathetically charging on to double digits in IVF cycles undertaken.

My painful day got worse because some irritating shithead keeps popping by my workstation to check out what I have on screen but pretend he wasn't really looking at my screen by generating some mindless conversation about microsoft word printing or some shit like that. And when I quickly minimise my webpage he giggled and said oh what were you looking at? Is there something you don't want to share? He he he. Show us show us.

Oh yes dickwit, its my blog on infertility about vaginal ultrasounds, heavy periods and passing of clots. You want to have a read?

If I am an alcoholic - this will be the day I break the spell and drink myself stupid.

But I will settle with a piece of black forrest cake. Just one piece.

Monday, May 29, 2006

Perky Perky

This morning, and just another day at my other office (a.k.a. fertility clinic), I was asked how I was feeling this lovely wet Monday (Mundane) morning.

Perky, feeling quite perky actually.

Really? What sort of word is that?

A new word – that’s what it is. I am feeling perky. I am feeling okay. Okay happy. Probably a word not appropriate for a place like this but it is better than `I’m feeling like crap because I can’t get pregnant.

  1. A list of things that makes me just a little more excited than usual:
    Weeding. Not the recreational drug kind but the actual acts of pulling weeds from the ground. I discovered this fine sport on the weekend because after reading the Dian Mills book – I realised in order to beat this endometriosis/fertility problem – I first need to look after myself and wind down. After much weeding and winding down I now have a lovely garden, a very relaxed state of mind this morning (despite the fact that I woke up with bad hair – like wearing a bad wig), and mighty sore thighs. Better than yoga methinks. My doggie thinks mommy has gone mad, he sat quietly and watched me wedding for hours.
  2. Fish and chips. Yes it was deep fried. Yes it’s bad for you because the oil they use is most definitely not cold pressed olive oil but 3 week old lard but hey, its fish – and fish has good oils in them so its good for you. Once in a wee while is okay. Yummy.
  3. Planning and packing for a holiday. The best part of a holiday is not the actual going part; it’s the part between packing and standing at the customs waiting for that immigration stamp on my passport. Apeman and I are two strange souls – we always hold hands and giggle like teenagers at the airport – for as long as I can remember.
  4. Trying on shoes. Enough said. I worn my Keds on the weekend and they gave me throbbing red ankles - but it’s totally worth it when I see the cute black flats on my feet with the little pink dots and a black bow on them.
  5. Ovulation. Not the drug induced ones –but au naturale. According to a scan this morning I have one coming up – accompanied by en entourage of 15 little cystic follicles. Ah….the joys of polycystic syndrome. If they can’t get you with one thing (i.e. endometriosis) they get you with another.

That’s enough for one week I think.

Perky Perky

This morning, and just another day at my other office (a.k.a. fertility clinic), I was asked how I was feeling this lovely wet Monday (Mundane) morning.

Perky, feeling quite perky actually.

Really? What sort of word is that?

A new word – that’s what it is. I am feeling perky. I am feeling okay. Okay happy. Probably a word not appropriate for a place like this but it is better than `I’m feeling like crap because I can’t get pregnant.

  1. A list of things that makes me just a little more excited than usual:
    Weeding. Not the recreational drug kind but the actual acts of pulling weeds from the ground. I discovered this fine sport on the weekend because after reading the Dian Mills book – I realised in order to beat this endometriosis/fertility problem – I first need to look after myself and wind down. After much weeding and winding down I now have a lovely garden, a very relaxed state of mind this morning (despite the fact that I woke up with bad hair – like wearing a bad wig), and mighty sore thighs. Better than yoga methinks. My doggie thinks mommy has gone mad, he sat quietly and watched me wedding for hours.
  2. Fish and chips. Yes it was deep fried. Yes it’s bad for you because the oil they use is most definitely not cold pressed olive oil but 3 week old lard but hey, its fish – and fish has good oils in them so its good for you. Once in a wee while is okay. Yummy.
  3. Planning and packing for a holiday. The best part of a holiday is not the actual going part; it’s the part between packing and standing at the customs waiting for that immigration stamp on my passport. Apeman and I are two strange souls – we always hold hands and giggle like teenagers at the airport – for as long as I can remember.
  4. Trying on shoes. Enough said. I worn my Keds on the weekend and they gave me throbbing red ankles - but it’s totally worth it when I see the cute black flats on my feet with the little pink dots and a black bow on them.
  5. Ovulation. Not the drug induced ones –but au naturale. According to a scan this morning I have one coming up – accompanied by en entourage of 15 little cystic follicles. Ah….the joys of polycystic syndrome. If they can’t get you with one thing (i.e. endometriosis) they get you with another.

That’s enough for one week I think.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Two Sour Face in a Pod

Firstly, I want to say thank you for dropping by to read my blog of ramblings. You ladies are so incredibly amazing and full of spirit. A few of you made me cry with what you wrote. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

It is comforting (and sad at the same time) to know that there are people out there who is going through the same thing and understands you and know what it feels like. Apeman is a nice boy but he is not as accomodating as I would like him to be. Thank you cyber friends.

On Monday I did a bit of a big walk around town during lunch time. Partly because I need a breather from neon bright computer glare, but most importantly I need a quick fix so I walked to my favourite shoe shop and have a sniff of their new leather boots.

Like any other day, fertility issues were on my mind. I think at that exact moment I was thinking about the pros and cons of possibly doing an IUI cycle when I return from my long holiday in July (because with IUI - it is less invasive - no drugs no nothing). To match the occasion, I have an equally sour expression on my face (head down, mouth twisted to one side, screwed up forehead..etc - much like a constipated alien).

Suddenly face up and I saw a familiar face. A very well dressed, slim and attractive woman in a perfect pencil skirt was walking towards me. She had a similar expression to mine - sour looking, a questionable look, sad? Maybe a little. She looked a little sad to me.

Then I realise who she was. A woman I used to spend maybe hours watching when I was doing IVF at my previous clinic. We must be in sync with our hormonal pattern - so we have a similar timetable for bloodwork and ultrasounds and always end up sitting in the waiting room together. Sometimes I smile and nod and she did the same. Sometimes I just sit and check out her shoes. Her shoe collection is as good as mine. I think we did this synchronised cycling for maybe half a year.

She didn't recognise me. But I did. Even though it was a year further down the track since I last saw her.

And I felt sad straightaway. For both of us.

I want to go up to her and hug her and say, it's been a long road hasn't it?

But at the same time, as twisted as it may sound, I feel comforted. Knowing that I am not alone, and even as I walk down the crowded terrace in search for a leather fix I can still bump into people who has fertility problems just like me.

Tis a small and twisted world afterall. I wish you luck too Miss Hot Shoes Collection 2005.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Start Again

  1. Instead of resigning, I have decided to take `unspecified terms unpaid leave’ – did not state when I will return to work or IF I will return to work.  It kind of take the edge off my sudden departure – soften the blow for my boss and particularly for myself.  Apeman stood by me 100% - he thinks I should just take a break and join the gym and work on being healthy and happy.  My career has been in tatters ever since three years ago when things were starting to look bad.  My career has undergone a lot of pain and suffering – I feel it everyday.  It’s quite sad that I had let this whole IVF thing get to my head – but it happened and I am trying to turn things around. 
  2. Bought a book from the Dummy Series on fertility – it looked ridiculous initially but it really helped reading something that brings me down to earth.  I am treating it as a refresher course.  Amazingly after so many cycles there are still things I don’t know.  Loved the pictures.  They tell you everything about what goes on during the 2ww and why embryo glue shouldn’t be used.  Etc etc.
  3. Bought another book about mind over matter in relation to fertility issues.  It also sounds ridiculous but hey I am going to have A BIT OF spare time so might as well do something useful and get some alternative help.
  4. After a few hiccups during, and after this past cycle, have decided to stop all IVF treatment at least for a few months and maybe try something a bit less invasive like IUI / naturally ttc.  Am very conscious about what the meds are doing to my body – and am seriously, SERIOUSLY in need of a mini break from the whole needle / blood-taking / Day 5 transfer / stirrups / 2ww / I am sorry it’s a negative again deal – if my mind is getting a rest so shall my body.
  5. Am going travelling with the Ape – would be nice to get knocked up during the trip but am not and will not be holding my breath.
  6. Have already started on a diet loosely based on the Dian Mills diet.  Basically cut out caffeine and diary L and wheat from my life.  So far I have cheated maybe about 7 times but hey, a start is a start.   
  7. Am going to, and will, stay happy.  Regardless of whatever will happen.  I hope nothing will change this positive frame of mind.  With or without child I am determined to stay happy and be content with what I’ve already got.  Otherwise healthy, and be able to do what I want to do.

So that’s the plan so far.  If somebody is kind enough to upgrade me to the bare feet and pregnant option I am more than willing to oblige.  But I am not going to trade my soul for it.  Not like before.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Passing Time

Went to work today - as usual and carried on like any other day.

I find, if there is anything I am good at, is to pretend it was no big deal and carry on.

So, nursing a massive menstrual cramp, packed with a box of tampons and extra pads and my new book - a Dalai Lama masterpiece on The Art of Happiness, I wandered off to work, just like any other day. On my way from the carpark I bought a soya-chino and a piece of black forrest cake. Fuck it days cannot be worse than the one like today. Double up on the cake thanks.

Got stuck into work. Bullshit really. Chasing people up so THEY can do their jobs properly. Spending time crunching numbers for something unimportant and probably non-billable, watching people sneaking out of the office so they can have a smoke at 30-minute intervals. Listening to my workmate talking about his wife - again. Waiting for emails to come - something interesting, mind shattering enough to bring a little joy in my life. I laughed heartedly at a joke somebody sent me - and somebody gave me shit because I was such a retard and walked into one of the doors - again.

I laughed too. It was pretty funny.

Because, I feel, that you cannot get your eggs collected on the day your project has a team celebration luncheon, that I had decided to tell a few people about my IVF plans. What the heck - it is an interesting non-work topic with a socialogical flavour to it, plus at most times that's all I think about so might as well verbalise it.

So in the end, the result is I got a few people (who underwent my personal screening in order to be a part of my IVF syndicate) dropping by and asking me how did it go.

I smiled and said expected. What the fuck.

Oh. Do you want to talk about it?

Nah fuck it, don't worry about it. It's all good. See? I am not even crying anymore.

By about midday I called my boss into the a meeting room to discuss some work I have prepared earlier. Before the meeting commenced I asked him, I have something personal to discuss with you, do you want to do the personal stuff first, or discuss the work first.

He looked at me a little worried. And said don't keep me in suspense, let's do the personal first.

I would like to resign.


Yes I would like to resign. Want to do a little travelling because my lovely Ape has decided to cheer me up with a little holiday planned, we are going to VEGAS. We are going to hamp it up there, then after that I would like to settle back home, rest for a little while, take some time off to hug trees, have lots of unprotected sex (snort, as if that works), and hopefully work on expanding that family of ours.

I didn't say anything about the unprotected sex or the tree hugging but I did say everything else.

He was reluctant to let me go because I am his Cad Monkey, but we are working on a date which he can release me from my job.

So that was that. We got on with more work. Then in the afternoon he rewarded me with a 4 hour meeting - I was beyond painful and was nearly in tears trying to mentally suppress my period pain, and running out of the meeting room every half hour to replace tampon/check if there is a pool of blood on my skirt because I was bleeding so damn much. I wasn't released from jail until very late into the evening.

On my way home, I switched on the CD and it came to Song 20. It was The Banana Boat Song, the song me and Apeman listened to when we took our embryo home two weeks ago. This is my happy song, when I was younger I loved watching Beetlejuice the movie, and my favourite part of the movie was watching Winona Ryder dancing to this song. For some reason a few weeks ago I was once again aquainted with this song because it is a part of a new CD I bought...something to do with the 80's music. I remember driving and listening to the song and started to cry. Really crying. It is my baby's song. So when we had our transfer I asked Apeman to pop on the CD so our little embryo can listen to it too, to be a part of our world. My happy world with the promise of all things special and beautiful.

I cried so much tonight on my way home the tears blurred my vision.