I can’t even remember when I last wrote something. I think we were heading straight into our second round of IVF, where we threw the kitchen sink / Amex at it and did everything possible to achieve a result.
We opted for IMSI (one level up from ICSI) and endometrial scratch…as our luxury add ons. The embryos they popped back in were the best possible grade. They have no idea why it didn’t work.
The follow up meeting with a different Dr (my choice) was both misleading and unsatisfying. They tried to suggest we spend several thousands of pounds on tests that are not proven. When challenged, we were rebutted and suggested that we “keep trying, it’s a numbers game”… what the actual f*ck… Yes, it’s a numbers game; more numbers for their P&L.
So here we are; surrounded by friends and family announcing their second pregnancies, people who weren’t even pregnant when we started this journey three years ago. To say it’s heartbreaking to see my friends on Instagram enjoying their Thirsty Thursday whilst on mat leave, is an understatement.
I’ve even stopped following some. I’ve never been on Facebook, so I avoid that constant rubbing in the face.
Where’s my head at? I’m sick of this holding pattern. I’m tired of being bitter and jealous. I’m exhausted with the energy it takes to try to remain positive. I’m bored with the emotions. I’m dreading my sister in law announcing her second pregnancy – they’re apparently trying.
I’ve quit caffeine, refined sugar and alcohol (almost). I refuse to quit the gym; exercise is the only thing that genuinely keeps me sane.
I’ve quit my job. I now work for myself. I’m stuck at home all day long with only the cat for company. With this comes a whole new level of emotions; fear, lack of confidence, crippling anxiety, boredom. But also freedom, on some level.
I can lie in bed until noon or watch Netflix all day, I can go to the gym anywhere in London, whenever I want. There are no deadlines, no meetings, no conference calls.
Yet, I’m struggling to adjust.
My life, up until now, has been a 6am wake up, in the office for 7:45am, breakfast and lunch at my desk, racing out at 6pm to catch a gym class, and back to back meetings and conference calls in-between. My boss pushed me to my absolute limits. His behaviour crushed my confidence so much I spent the last 12 months in a state of anxiety. And now I doubt every single thing I do.
I quit my job to be less stressed. In the vain hope that stress was stopping me from achieving pregnancy. And here I am, due to turn 40 next year, with no job. And a ridiculous doubt of my own ability.
I know I need to throw myself into my new business and clients, but I just don’t have the focus or the energy right now. I’d rather watch shit TV and empty my brain of any thoughts.
So what IS next? Every morning I wait for a letter from the NHS to say they will fund one round of IVF.
I am so very thankful that we have this opportunity, and that we had credit cards to pay for the two private rounds previously, but its taken us three years to even get here. And because it’s NHS we’re not in control of when it happens. And with every month, my eggs dwindle, and I creep more towards 40. I’m too scared to have another AMH test.