My future counsellor will be driven into the ground on day one

Item: The people who know I have yet another degree now – you who read this. Some work colleagues. One good friend IRL. Some internet buddies elsewhere.

Item: The people who do not know I have yet another degree now – my mother. Anyone in my family at all, for that matter. H’s family. Some IRL friends.

Item: I have not, in fact,  spoken to my mother since the ‘As for getting pregnant, I can’t think of anything more exciting!’ email she sent in reply to H’s very carefully worded one about how, and why, Christmas would suck dirty great arse for us this year and so we were not Going Skiing with her, my sisters, their boyfriends and husbands, the niece, and one Monopoly board between us, thank you for asking.

Item: I haven’t spoken to my Dad either, but that is perfectly normal for us.

Item: I raised the subject of IVF with H. H not keen. May rather more keen, but not exactly gagging for it. If it turns out the One and Only Tube really has been summarily renamed World’s Worst Waterslide, the question of IVF, exactly when, how much, and who’s freakin’ paying will no doubt recrudesce.

Item: My mother has on many occasions announced her desire to help us out financially with something – a down-payment on a house, orthodontic work, private fertility clinics, two weeks in the Black Forest being whipped with birch twigs and lectured in German about oats and chakras, whatever we want. This has a lot to do with the fact she was well-off growing up, bone-achingly poor as a young mother, and now her kids have grown, well-off again (this all due to interesting (and multiple) marital choices, bless her). She just wants to give us stuff. So if we wanted £3000 for a private go, she would almost certainly shower us in banknotes.

Item: In fact, she’d probably get more gung-ho than I could and have me kidnapped and sent to Germany so a very serious hippy in a white lab-coat can sing to my uterus during the two-week-wait.

Item: Did I mention I am not speaking to her at the moment? I wonder if she has realised yet.

Item: If I now stiffen my upper lip and reopen communications, it will seem, to me, that I am doing it as an insurance policy in case World’s Worst Waterslide is a horrible reality. And not because I love my mother.

Item: I feel more like a blackbeetle than ever.

Item: Currently on antibiotics that threaten to burn my insides out like napalm if they feel so inclined, courtesy of the HSG – they’re prophylactics, you see, giggle giggle. So if Satsuma develops a spirit of devilment and pops one out in the next few days, should we let it float out to sea (or not, see possible WWW) unhindered? Or should we reason that the antibiotics will be out of system by implantation day and bang like barn doors in a gale? Why am I bothering to wonder about this? Since when will it become relevant? On Friday, Satsuma was fast asleep, remember?

Item: Given that WWW is an alarming possibility (oh God, roll on the counselling, I have run out of fingernails and the ends of my hair are starting to look upsettingly hay-like), should I ever have sex again ever under any circumstance? Is an unblocked hydrosalpinx a real absolute shit of a problem, or does it merely make things more unlikely, or is the faff all about the increased risk of ectopics, or what? Yes, I know, I must wait and hear what Miss Consultant says.

Item: See that four-letter-word there? The one beginning with ‘w’? Oh, do I have to spell it out again. W – A -I – T. That word and I have had it. I have ripped it out of the dictionary, along with everything from ‘waggon’ to ‘wake’.

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5 responses to “My future counsellor will be driven into the ground on day one

  • korechronicles

    Oh May, this is craptacularly complicated and I’m afraid I have absolutely no assvice to offer. And aren’t we all relieved about that.

    Can only say that I hope you get Dream Counsellor, with nerves of steel and a deft touch for speedy improvements. One who can help you untangle the total spaghetti bowl you’re thrashing around in.

    Or come for a short visit to my place. We could invoke the Green Fairy with a bottle of Moulin Rooz. That should give Satsuma a good kick in the arse.

  • MFA Mama a.k.a. "Eliza"

    Well, I don’t know anything about the WWW possibility but I CAN tell you that I was on Ciprofloxacin when I conceived my second child (had gotten a UTI from all the banging like barn doors in gale while trying to make that one). We thought we were taking a cycle off, and that I wasn’t going to ovulate for a couple more days, and I was flying halfway around the world to stay for two weeks, and so a “goodbye quickie” followed by a mad dash to the airport did what all sorts of careful timing and OPK-peeing and lying-with-the-legs-up did not. Hmph. Contrary innards! I was on the Ciprofloxacin for about five days after the “goodbye quickie” and when I found out I was pregnant, freaked out and ran to my OB/GYN in a panic. She said “well definitely no Ciprofloxacin now that you’re officially pregnant, but honestly the first week or two after conception and implantation the embryo isn’t complex enough to be harmed by much of anything short of chemotherapy or radiation–it hadn’t even tied into your bloodstream by implanting for two or three days after you had sex, and in the three more plus the time for the half-life of the drug to leave your system it didn’t have a heart or a brain, it was just cells dividing. We don’t exactly advertise that because we WANT people to abstain from alcohol and recreational drugs and prescriptions that aren’t advisable during pregnancy while they are TTC and in the first weeks of pregnancy, but really until the fourth of fifth week it doesn’t much matter.” So if I were you I’d say damn the torpedoes and commence barn-door-in-gale-style banging if Satsuma appears to be getting off her lazy arse. Dunno how much a hydrosalpynx impedes your chances at a pregnancy, but it would seem to me that if the tube is not blocked there is at least a CHANCE, and if I were you I’d cover all my bases, if you know what I mean *wink wink snigger*

  • Lesley

    Sorry about all you’re going through. IVF is so hellishly expensive. And no picnic either, even if you have the cash. On the other hand, sometimes it works. In a way that’s the worst part– that damned feeling of hope. (IVF vet here, can you tell?)
    Sorry, no advice from me, but do accept my well-wishes from across the ocean.

  • Xbox4NappyRash

    Jesus what a whole lot of ‘stuff’, I don;t think there’s any better collective noun for all this.

    Anything else aside, I know you’ll want to slap me for saying it, but I wish I had my old mam to talk to about all this from time to time. Even if she mightn’t understand fully.

    Best of luck.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    Oh dear. Filthy dirty lucre. I wouldn’t feel bad about taking any offered cash, if I were you though. Or if I were your Mum: I’d be mortally upset if money was the only problem and I wasn’t allowed to unbelt any. Of course, it isn’t the only problem, coz fertility treatments are all fraught with major emotional Ick, so I feel you could stay mad with your Mum a while longer if it pleases you. IVF starting gates are always 6 weeks away even if they tell you can start yesterday… so I reckon you can forgive her in your own time… unless she re-offends you this side of Christmas, of course! Which could be tricky! She does sound an emotional hair-shirt occasionally. Poor May.

    I feel you are right about the potential faff regarding the whole subject of ectopics. Given that Satsuma is now an Only Citrus, Consultant will doubtless feel, quite rightly, that no risks concerning her safety are to be taken. So yes, what she thinks about the possibility of it being a bit of a slalom course for the embryos is pretty important.

    Waiting sucks. Sucky sucky sucks. I’m on the edge of MY seat awaiting consultant’s verdict, so heaven alone knows what Maison Nuts is suffering.

    Sigh. Big sigh.

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