how little I write a blog post, and how often it’s on the “to do” list, and yet it doesn’t get done. And then the other reason it’s a little embarrassing is that this post is possible my most personal.
Today marks day five of taking a type of HRT drug, that means I am well on my way to kick start our IVF journey. Jim (my wonderful husband and partner in crime) and I have been trying for a family for over 6 and a half years, and finally our IVF number has been called. Yes, you read that right, 6 and a half years, it’s been a test, a trial and all the other things in between, we sometimes gave up hope, we sometimes stopped trying for a month or two. We started investigations, we stopped investigations, and then we moved house a whole lot oh and there was a pandemic too! So you can see why its been awhile! But for the last bit, we’ve been sat on a waiting list for over 18 months for treatment, and riding that emotionally rollercoaster.
You’re possibly wondering why I am writing this and leaving it here, and what it has to do with you. Well if it’s not your bag, fear not, scroll on, I won’t go on an on. But I have also found that the more I talk about this topic, the easier sits with me, and the more people that come out of the woodwork and tell me about their own fertility journey. Some small part of me would be really happy if it spurred someone on, to seek some help, or strike a conversation. But also I feel the need to explain why I am laying low, and not sharing a rich and full calendar of Autumnal and Winter events. It doesn’t come naturally to me, to slow down, to be kind to myself and rest, but right now it is the one thing my head is telling me to do. I have been given the gift of hope, and I have to give this the very best chance. A dear friend of mine, whom was once in similar circumstances once said that it’s the eternal hope that’s exhausting . That sounds pretty bleak I know, but it’s sadly true. The eternal hope that this time it’s worked, that this time is different. Well this time is different, and I’m going with the weird sense of relief that it’s completely out of my control. All I can do is look after the vessel.
So there you have it, I will still be working, but just at a slower pace, and taking rest and breaks when necessary. There is still a collection for the festive season, and the website will be open, but apart from that, I’m taking it as easy as I can. I won’t be giving a running commentary throughout our treatment, I am inherently quite a private person. But I’m also open to that changing, so we shall see! One thing is for sure, it will be a journey and I’ll keep you posted.
