Sunday, August 26, 2012

4 months

Today my beautiful daughter is 4 months old. I have loved probably 90% of those 4 months, although some of it has been the hardest work I have ever done.
She arrived by scheduled C section at 8.40am and came out yelling. We had no idea whether she was a boy or a girl until she arrived, so we had 3 names for each just in case. She is Lily May Vera.

Lily is a name we both love, and it works with our surname. My grandfather was over the moon that we chose it, as he was brought up by his Auntie Lil and is sure we used the name because of her.

May is the name my great grandmother was called ever since my father couldn't say grandma. It is also my maternal grandmothers middle name. My great uncle, her only son (Jelly, your friends father), told me that her sisters name was Lil.

Vera is named after a wonderful lady who lived next door to me and was a surrogate grandmother. I still have a photo of her on my fridge wherever I live. Lily will inherit a lot of her collection of dolls when she is old enough.

 Lily will probably be our only child due to the roulette of IVF, my age, and several complications found during her birth. At least we have her to enjoy.

Friday, October 28, 2011

12 weeks and all is well

One very healthy baby growing inside me. No chromosomal abnormalities showing in any of the tests, and my risk of Downs Syndrome is 1:1210 - much better than my age risk of 1:128.

We are both in awe of this life forming. We are so very lucky to have had a successful IVF cycle, and so quickly.

We told Grandpa the other night. He said "Well done".

Friday, September 02, 2011


We had my blood test today. Then we tried to keep occupied. Husband went to the gym and did some cooking, I ran errands and had a massage. My phone rang while I was in the supermarket.




I'm stunned. And over the moon. And thrilled. Husband is still slightly in shock, but was trying to work out how to explain why he looked so happy if anyone asked him at work. We are both daunted too. We hoped for this result but have been preparing for the opposite.


We've got a long way to go, but it's a beginning.


Tuesday, August 23, 2011

When do you stop?

How do you know enough is enough?

I've been asking myself that since June 30th, the date of our first IVF pregnancy test. The negative one. The earth shattering one. The one which shook my world and left me shattered, wailing. I don't know how many times I can go through that. The depth of my reaction surprised me. I'd spent 2 weeks telling myself that it hadn't worked, and I wasn't pregnant, but that little kernel of hope was stronger than I knew, or had let myself believe.

When you have your mandatory pre IVF counselling appointment, when is enough enough is not something you talk about. You talk about what happens with any embryos if one of you dies while you still have some frozen, what do you do if you have finished your family and still have embryos, and the big one, how do you feel about being infertile. For the record, both of us left the decision to the survivor, I went with donate to an infertile couple or research, he went with research or destroy, and for me bereft, for him guilty.

We talked about enough before we started, and were feeling that one cycle was probably enough - use all embryos from the first harvest and leave it at that. We didn't base it on any specific logic, more around the unknown and a combination of money and my age. I don't know if that is right for me now.

I'm not the only person in this relationship. There are 2 of us in this marriage, and decisions like this cannot be made by only one. We are talking about it. The conversation happens at least once a week, and is still very much an exploration of ideas and what ifs. We don't have to decide yet, but it is there. Neither of us wants to close the door on having a family, but is this the only way?

All we can do for now is be the best aunt and uncle we can be to our gorgeous niece and nephew, the best big sister and brother in law to my 8 year old sister, the best surrogate aunt and uncle to other small people in our lives and hope that nature, my body and all the good wishes and prayers we have for us combine to make the current round a success.

Most importantly, we have each other.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Girding my loins

So round one didn't work. I wasn't prepared for how emotionally shattered I would be when I got the phone call telling me that I wasn't pregnant. I spent the day in 2 parts, the public robot manager, and the weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth hidden.

So now, we wait again. Time for a month off, and then back we go again, to see how we go with the second embryo.

Draining. So emotionally draining. We do a lot of talking. Thank goodness we have that.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Playing God

Today I've had 2 injections, one blood test, one internal ultrasound, and a bonding session with a speculum. Oddly enough, it was even less fun than it sounds.


All of this is working towards a Petri dish next week, which will hopefully be the beginning of our family. Samples from both of us, and the doctor using a needle to inject them together.

We are blessed to live in a time where we have these medical options, and I am thankful that we don't have to live through the agonising months of trying, never knowing why we are not successful.

At the same time I wonder, how does it feel to be that doctor? How does it feel to know that with every probe of the needle you are creating something which has the potential to be a life with all the possibilities that entails?

Tuesday, April 06, 2010


I got a text from one of my friends yesterday asking me to make some soup. Just simple vegetable soup for her sick boyfriend until they can work out what is wrong with his stomach.

I loved being able to help her out, and especially enjoyed being able to do something concrete. The simple physical actions of peeling and chopping the potatoes and carrots, picking and slicing the beans and then putting it in the pot with some vegetable stock, pasta and water was very satisfying. Stirring the soup gave my afternoon a soothing routine and smelling the soup throughout the house just made me happy.

There is something I've always loved about the community of cooking and eating together. Now I've learnt about the community of preparing food for others, and not needing to be there to eat with them. I didn't need to be there to watch him eat it, I'm happy that he managed to keep it down and it didn't add to his pain.