The last month I’ve had to surrender into some pretty poor mental health. It’s why I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been finding most things a struggle. Even having a finished article ready to share was an impossible task. The vulnerability needed to send it out into the world, a step too far in my fragile state.
I have been throwing everything at my new protocol of trying to conceive naturally with mild follicle stimulation and killer cell treatment but it’s not going well. The process is difficult with an irregular cycle, IV intralipids need to be given prior to ovulation, so it involves stressful long journeys to the clinic trying to catch the right time period and not miss that 24hr window.
It costs £1000 each month which would be ok if I had any faith that something good quality was being kicked out of my ovaries. But recent blood results show the hormonal signals from my body have ramped up in an attempt to make them work — when they are determined to not return to the office and be part of the ‘great resignation’.
It’s not premature menopause yet, but I’m on the road to that destination. It’s just so unpredictable at the moment. I had a 92 day cycle that needed a trigger injection to finally end, then my next cycle was the polar opposite and I ovulated before Day 6 and couldn’t try to conceive that month.
We are having to look long and hard at the evidence and let go of the ‘miracles happen’ mindset. We have concluded that continuing in our situation has very little chance of said miracle, but a huge chance of debilitating mental illness for me. Going into my current cycle after a big discussion with Joe, we decided this would be our last try naturally with the protocol, and that afterwards we will move on and transfer our embryo at some point this year. This means it is very likely be our last try naturally ever, because I will not risk conceiving without killer cell treatment.
What people forget is that we don’t have the luxury of just trying naturally because of the killer cells. It feels like I’m only ever deciding what type of miscarriage I want to experience next, not pregnancy or birth. I know I would not be able to forgive myself if I chanced natural conception without killer cell treatment and then miscarried again. But we also don’t have the luxury of spending £1000 a month and living life in two week blocks, whilst taking drugs that cause low mood, anxiety and constant fatigue. It is torture. We can’t live this life anymore. It’s too hard.
So this current cycle where all hope has been pinned was surprisingly normal for me with no early ovulation and a plan to trigger on Day 14. However, a few days before trigger we both came down with covid for the first time.
I spent three days in and out of fever dreams, completely devastated that my egg was being boiled like a lobster in a pot and that my body would not be wanting to take on any complex tasks, like conception, whilst being invaded by the virus of the century.
After three years of avoiding it, the timing was a cruel joke. I also wouldn’t recommend timed-must-have-intercourse-because-you’ve-spent-£1000-and-its-probably-the-last-time-you-will-try whilst both dog ill with coronavirus. There was so much pressure on this last hurrah and a very strange full circle fact that, if I did fall pregnant this time, I would have the exact same due date as my first pregnancy.
In that respect, this time of year is hard for me. As the sun starts to shine and I can spend time in the garden, I recall eating outside a breakfast of two boiled eggs when I was pregnant then because I was so hungry in the morning. The natural world was blooming whilst I did the same. Spring will always remind me of those magical weeks when I truly believed I was going to have a baby.
Now I am wondering what I believe anymore. I believe I’m at the beginning of saying goodbye to my genetics, a new type of grief to wade through. I believe that I’ve done all I can for now. I believe that I will feel a lot better once I get a few months clear of all the drugs. I believe I’m due some time off before we transfer our embryo. Time to find me again. Time to deeply consider what I want from life, how I might get there and what else I am prepared to put myself through to achieve it.
I recognise I am at the point where trying to have a child is becoming more painful than not. When I feel like this I know I need a break. I find when you feel completely lost on what to do next, it’s much better to just do nothing at all for a little while and let the truth gently nudge you in the right direction.
The truth for me right now, is that I am completely exhausted by making life-altering decisions on what feels like a daily basis. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a day where not much is a worry, everything feels okay, when there is no huge concern weighing down on me. We are going away to a favourite spot in Devon soon so that’s what I’m aiming for when I’m there. A few days where I can simply feel at peace with life instead of in conflict and to enjoy the sense that I’m actually living not just surviving.
Jade x
I’m sorry you’re going through something so difficult and hope your time in Devon is restorative. Thanks for sharing your story.
“I find when you feel completely lost on what to do next, it’s much better to just do nothing at all for a little while and let the truth gently nudge you in the right direction.” Wise words. Wishing you health and peace in the coming months.