Is the third time a charm?

Wow, we’ve started IVF #3. It’s hard to believe after 9 months of prep and planning it’s finally here! It’s hard to believe that it could actually work, but it’s possible, presumably even more possible than the last two because this time we’re using someone else’s eggs, this could give us the Bumble we’ve been waiting for. Our beautiful donor has come through the barrage of tests with flying colours, except for perhaps a slightly low hormone test, but certainly nothing to be concerned about, and after too many months sitting on red, the light is suddenly green.

It’s very strange playing no part in this process until near the end. It’s bizarre to think that right now the precursor to our little Bumble could be growing away in someone else’s tummy. Crazy to be going through an IVF cycle without the daily injections and follicle scans but I’m jumping the gun, we’re not even at that stage yet. And I’m not entirely off the hook. Here’s how things have gone down so far.

Just over a month ago we got the call to say our next cycle was going ahead in September, WOOHOO! I get to start my down-reg drugs mid-August and my donor starts her stims in September in line with her cycle. A quick yet disorganised trip to the clinic for injection instructions, a stop at the chemist for drugs, and I’m good to go. Only one injection to start with for me as, unlike my last cycle where I was doing daily Lucrin injections to shut down my natural cycle, this injection lasts a whole month. I’m prepared for the worst as this is the drug I reacted badly to last time – lucky-dip Lucrin I called it, with a new side-effect every day – and now I’m taking a whole month’s worth in one hit, eek.

What’s worse I realise on the way home, is that the date I’m to start the injection is the one weekend this winter that we’re away…..and not just away the two of us hiding out, but away snowboarding with a whole heap of work colleagues (my husband and I work in the same place) who don’t know about our infertility struggles. As I’ve said before I’m all for letting people know about what we’re going through but my hubs was, until recently, on a different wave-length. By the time he’d got his head around telling his team at work, it seemed a bit awkward to bring up; I mean it’s not exactly your run-of-the-mill morning coffee conversation, “Morning guys! Hey guess what, you know how my wife has been a withdrawn yet emotionally crazy person for most of the time you’ve known her, well it turns out we’ve been battling infertility for the last three and half years. Can you pass the sugar?”

So I spent a good couple of weeks stressing about the various scenarios that could arise. What if I accidentally let something slip and there’s the whole depressing explanation of our infertile lives while everyone is supposed to be chilling and having a good time? What if someone walks in on me doing my injection? What if the side effects hit hard and I flip out for no apparent reason? What if I end up with vertigo again and can’t partake in the weekend activities? Now I know this may seem silly but bear in mind these guys are kinda the cool kids (if there is still such a thing at this age) – they’re really lovely, fun, friendly, gorgeous people but let’s just say I feel like the hick hillbilly cousin next to them. I’m shy and quiet, am hopeless with make-up or anything girly, and at the moment don’t drink. Add to that the nervousness of IVF and I feel even more dull than normal.

Eventually I decide whatever will be will be and I just need to have a good time regardless. Turns out I worried needlessly. It was an absolutely awesome weekend. I got to know the group a little better and had a great time without too much (other than a little on the first day) fretting about my injection or feeling sad about our situation. And it transpired that some of them knew anyway. Apparently my silly husband had spilled the beans….he just didn’t remember who he’d told! It’s so much easier not having to pretend any more. It’s exhausting trying to make out that everything’s fine when you just want to curl up and cry. Oh, yeah, and side-effects? None. At all. Even two and a half weeks on. Pfft.

Anyway, I’ve digressed. After two weeks of no side-effects, of being ‘normal’ and sane, it’s time for my blood test to check that this stuff is actually working, because you know, the way things happen in our life, no side-effects probably means not working. Again, why was I worrying?! Despite now looking like a complete junkie due to the nurse not being able to find my vein, everything is progressing as it’s supposed to and we await our donor’s day one. That’s when all the real excitement begins.


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