Spending the entire day and evening all by myself leads to excess introspection (I’m grounded by the misbehaviour of my uterus. H is going to a work Christmas ‘do’ and won’t be back until midnight).
[OK, brief unpleasant interlude in which I realised I was leaking through my enormous sanitary towel and pyjamas onto the chair. Chair cushion had to be thoroughly sponged. Knickers and PJs rinsed in cold water and awaiting laundry. I am not happy about this. Really, I am not. Seriously, uterus, WTF?]
Where was I? Oh, yes. Introspecting.
See, I don’t know where I fit, anymore. (Apart from in the menstrual overachiever’s club). I used to be this PCOS girl with one ovary and anovulation. Given that Clomid not only stopped working but stopped my ovary from working, I thought I had a one-way ticket to IVF via the slow-route of weight-loss. I was told, I was told by medical professionals, that IVF was really my only hope. So, you know, anovulatory. Needs IVF. Has fat arse.
[Also, the cocodamol keeps wearing off an hour before I can take another dose. I am either off my face on opiates or in immense discomfort. Therefore I am not functioning brilliantly. This morning I carefully put a hot mug of tea in the fridge and took the milk carton back to bed with me. I only worked out this was a big hairy FAIL when I went to take a sip.]
And now, it appears, that I am not anovulatory. Erratically perhaps, but I do ovulate. My fallopian tube works beautifully, as all (yes, well, all is a big word for the count so far, I know) my pregnancies have landed, briefly, in the Cute Ute as per regulations. I can get pregnant, doing that old-fashioned sex thing they told us about in Biology lessons. I do get pregnant.
Do I still count as PCOS girl with anovulation? Is the PCOS irrelevant now that the only signs of it seem to be the size of my thighs, my upper-lip fuzz and Satsuma’s general inability to get it together before day 18 (though that may be within ‘normal’. Who knows? Who can be arsed to tell me?). Am I actually a habitual aborter now? (Charming phrase, eh? Bless the medical establishment and its boundless tact). Or is this a statistical glitch and I’m going right back to being a PCOS girl in a minute?
More pressingly, where does IVF fit in in all this? It it something I should still be doing? Can I rely on Satsuma to keep this rate of production up, and therefore will IVF be unnecessary? Will the NHS even do IVF on someone who can get pregnant on her own? Will they do it on someone who might keep on miscarrying?
I don’t know what the rules are any more. Or what I should be doing now, what my best chance of a healthy viable pregnancy would be, would involve. I know, I am supposed to ask Miss Consultant about that when I next see her, and she will have my blood-test results, and a medical professional will tell me what I should be doing next. Yeah, that really worked with her bright ideas about Clomid and (startling lack of) monitoring and communication last Spring. I harrumph in her general direction.
And you, Gentle Readers. Where do I fit with you-all? Stirrup Queens (hi, Mel!) has me filed in her super-wonderful list of blogs as PCOS, which is exactly right as that is what I exactly have. How do you file bad luck, anyway? Because, as Senior Doctor said, there rarely is an actual cause for miscarriages. My only actual diagnosis is PCOS, and chances are that is what it will remain.
It’s just, having miscarriages feels so different from PCOS and anovulation. I daren’t say it is worse. God knows how I’d feel if I’d never got pregnant at all in these four years of trying. But it feels worse right now.