Thanks for all your comments.  I am still around and very well, thank you for asking.

I have really been on a journey of discovery in the last year, and have realised a few things.  The one thing that has really stood out to me is that while I was burying myself in my “infertility” and anguishing about my demise, the rest of the world carried on living.  (part of that has been this blog, which, whilst it has been a source of great support and healing, has also been a crutch that has not aided my “healing” as much as I thought) 

Life was happening while I was trying to get mine started.  I said things to myself internally like, “I’ll be happy when I fall pregnant” or “All I need is a family to make my life complete” or “I’ll start living when my IVF finally works.”  What I didn’t realise is that life does not come with a pause button. 

It’s like stepping out of the movie midway to buy popcorn.  You stand in the queue, waiting.  When you finally get back into the movie, you have missed some really important bits and the rest of the viewing audience have moved on without you, nary an explanation of what you didn’t get to see.

This little eye-opener was responsible for my last post about adoption.  I realised that while I sit on the side line waiting for things to go my way, life is merrily passing me by, like a frivolous child on a merry-go-round, laughing joyfully as it passes. 

So I have started living.  I have taken up golf lessons, which were a blast by the way!  And I have started learning to play the guitar, something I have wanted to do since sitting at my dad’s feet as he played when I was growing up. 

I have finally got my genetics tests back and it looks like the Hoff and I have very similar-looking DNA.  This means that with my upcoming FET I will be doing IVIg.  I am going in for my first scan on Monday and then we are on the bicycle again, so to speak. 

The outcome of the FET is entirely in God’s hands - I am relinquishing all control.  If it works I will be over the moon.  If not, I will embark on a new journey to “find” the baby that has been set aside for me.  Either way I am very excited about what life has in store for me.  I am not going to waste a minute worrying about an outcome I have no influence over.  The best I can do is be thankful each day for my present blessings.

Thanks to Natalie for all her advice and adoption story.  Thanks to everyone else for your encouragement and care.  The adoption route may mean that we will be a mixed race family and that is a big deal in a country that has been torn apart by racial hatred in the past.  We are prepared for this, and we know that the people that mean the most to us will support us no matter which way our journey takes us.

I have just watched the Carte Blanche story about the abused and abandoned children that end up in our welfare system.  What a wake up call.  There are so many children out there in need of homes and loving parents.

I have contacted the welfare and I am hoping to have had some sort of response by tomorrow morning.  For the first time in six years I can see light at the end of this tunnel.

Anyone (Preferrably South African) who has adopted recently and has contacts or helpful advice, please leave a comment with your contact details or blog name so that we can get in touch. 

Am I giving up on having my own children?  Of course not.  Am I going to delay having a family for another year in favour of treatments that may or may not work?  Definitely not.  I am ready for parenthood.  Bring it on.

I close my eyes… I am in an empty room with high pressed ceilings and dusty lace curtains.  The floorboards creak beneath my feet, and a swirl of dust floats up like a ghost with every step I take.  I feel a little chill run through my spine, and an uneasy feeling of not belonging here seeps through me. On the floor I see torn, faded motifs and pictures that could have come from a nursery - but there was never a cause for that. The pale pink paint is now grey and patchy and bits of it lie in little heaps on the floor.  Suddenly it occurs to me… I am back in my blog.

The last few months have felt like an eternity.  I have shunned everything infertility related.  I have been surrounded by pregnancy and birth, as well as loss and  I have managed to keep a respectable distance from all of it.  I have done a fabulous job of seperating myself from the feelings I have carried with me for so long, that now I almost feel normal. Almost.

Yet there are still questions swilling in my head. Do I go ahead with lap no. 4?  Do I skip begin and just do the FET?  Or should I jump right ahead to adoption….   aaaaah, so many questions and no-one can tell me which adventure will end happily.

Stay tuned for the next gripping episode - which path will I choose?  No-one can possibly know how this will end.

BTW:  This place could use a bit of renovation.

It has been an early winter in a lot of ways.  The failure of my second IVF heralded the leaves turning gold and crimson in February already.  Losing my little doggy Amber saw them breaking loose and floating to the ground, leaving the grand old trees naked in the wind by April. 

And it really has been an early winter.  It got cold rather suddenly. Before we had a chance to shop for leggings and leather jackets, there was a distinct bite in the air.

I haven’t had a lot to say recently either.  After my own personal early winter, I was rather unsure of my next move.  I was reading at Mel’s post about a favourite book of hers.  She read all but the last page, fearing that after the last page was read, the book would be over for her forever. ”I loved this book so much that I always refused to read the last page because I thought that if I didn’t read it, the book didn’t end. I am terrible with endings.”

I suppose I feel the same about treatment at the moment.  The longer I leave it the longer it won’t be “the end” for me either.  The idea that I still may be a mom is more appealing to me than reality at the moment.  I am getting plans together rather slowly for blood tests and such, but drawing it out as long as I can.  I am delaying the inevitable, really.  I mean the outcome is the outcome, whether now or in six months.

I am just enjoying not thinking about it, is all.  I guess I didn’t want to bore you either with the non event that is my life at the moment.  I am not one of those people that fills the awkward silences.  I am ususally the person that creates them.

The good news is that we got a new puppy so that Jasmine wouldn’t be the only four-legged ”person” in the house.  Our new addition, Emma, is a chocolate mini dachshund, and she has already stolen our hearts.  She is cheeky and confident, unlike Amber who was timid and so gentle.  I am glad they are so different because it helps me to remember Amber for her own special qualities. 

I will post some pics soon, and keep you updated on the progression of my eternal blood tests.

I have been slow to comment - although I have been reading your posts. So I don’t expect a flood of comments.  If you read and move on, that’s okay with me.  As long as you’re still out there.

I am so overwhelmed by all the love and compassion in the comments to my last post, about my precious little “fur”baby Amber, who died suddenly and without cause on the 2nd April.  As with all of the sad and difficult times, it was you who got me through it.  When I felt completely gutted by life, you sent me a gentle hug or a prayer.  I am “surrounded” by some very special people, and I am eternally grateful that you share my story and my life, though we have never met.  Thank you for checking back here as often as you do, and for being a constant in my journey.

Life without Amber has been an adjustment.  They say that times heals all wounds, and that is true.  It gets a little easier day by day, although there is a scar, not visible, but as painful as all the others I bear.  We planted a tree of remembrance, so that Amber won’t be forgotten.  Although seemingly cruel, life goes on, and it must.  Life is crazy, it is painful and it is the most beautiful gift.  I have heard it described as a large jar of marbles, each marble representing a day.  Every day we take out a marble and throw it away, it cannot be regained.  And life is like that. Once the sun has set on a day, it is gone forever.  We need to really live each and every day and make the most of the “marbles” we have been given.  Look at the clouds as you drive, enjoy the music, smell the flowers, breathe with purpose. 

We are so lucky to have each other (fellow IF’ers), our spouses, our family, our pets, our neighbours (however annoying), our domestic workers, our colleagues, our friends, our acquaintances.  Everyday that we connect with someone we are blessed. 

We become so wrapped up in our problems that we miss the bigger picture.  I see poverty every day.  The lady who sits on the side of the road and cooks corn in a drum over a fire, with her toddler sitting by her side.  She is there when I drive by early in the morning, and still there when I drive home in the afternoon.  There are people all around me who will never own a car or a real house.  They have to walk across town to use the toilets, or walk 4 or 5 kilometres from the taxi rank to work, and yet we get upset when they are twenty minutes late.  These people greet me with smiles, they never complain.  I am so fortunate, and I am only starting to really appreciate my life for what it is, and what I do have as oppposed to what I don’t.

Amber has indeed left a very large empty space despite her size, but she has opened my eyes to the possibilities rather than the obstacles, and for that I am very grateful.  They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and now I realise how full and happy my life has been despite all the accompanying disappointments.  Thank you Amber, my sweet little dog, for all the good times.  I won’t forget you.

fam·i·ly [fam-uh-lee, fam-lee] –noun

Family can also be construed as a group who have very close bonds and perhaps live under the same roof.  We might regard some of our blogging sistas as family.  Close friends, servants, even pets can be family.

This week I lost one of my family.

She came to us in the autumn of 2005.  She was no bigger than my hand, bony and shivering.  The runt of the litter, I have to admit that I had no idea what to do with such a tiny bundle of fur.

With lots of love and nurturing she grew stronger. Her little body filled out and her personality emerged.  She was in love with kitty, following her around everywhere and giving her lots of kisses.  She and Jasmine became firm friends despite their size difference.  She crept into our hearts and that is where she has remained.  She loved to be cuddled and was very affectionate.  She warmed the hearts of everyone who knew her, children and adults alike.

Being as small as she was, she could be exceptionally nervous. At least once each year she suffered a serious bout of gastro enteritus, which landed her up in hospital.  She always got better fairly quickly and life went on.

Which is why, when she got a rash on her tummy last Saturday, we didn’t worry too much.  Then her heart started to beat really hard and her face started to swell slightly.  Despite these symptoms she was her usual spritely self, chasing Jasmine around the garden and full of beans.  We took her for a check up just in case, and she was admitted for some basic treatment.  That was the last time we saw her well. 

In the days that followed, her body and face swelled to twice the size, she had to have a feeding tube, drip and a catheter to help her function.  We went and sat with her so she could sleep peacefully (knowing we were there was comforting to her) and massaged her swollen body to try and reduce the swelling.  When we said goodnight to her on Tuesday I was sure I would wake up to good news that she was on the mend and almost ready to come home.  The Hoff and I went to work as usual with a view to visiting her at lunchtime when they were finished with the blood tests.  (We figured that the more we visited her, the quicker she would heal) I got a call at about 9:30am to say that her blood pressure had dropped and she was getting cold.  We rushed back home.

Upon arriving, we were told to wait.  After about a ten minute wait, we were ushered into a room where we were told the bad news.  Our little Amber was gone.  After attempts to save her, her little body gave up and she closed her beautiful brown eyes for the last time.  Our baby had died without reasonable explanation.  When got to see her, she was lying peacefully with a blankie over her.  It looked like she was sleeping.  It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, leaving her there.  It just felt wrong.

Rest in peace little one - I look forward to seeing you again one day, to hold you and rub your tummy and kiss the top of your head.  You went too soon, we weren’t ready and our hearts are heavy and aching.  Our home is empty without you in it.

Amber 2005-2008

I am the gentle showers of rain;
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush;
I am in the graceful rush.

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.

I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

It’s been hard to think about coming here.  I have so many thoughts and none at all.  Surrogacy, adoption, donor sperm…  FET, a third IVF, life after all of this….. with a baby…. without.  It’s mind-numbing.

I finally had to face my demons on Easter Friday whilst walking through the mall looking for someplace to have breakfast.  Coming towards us from the opposite side was… wait for it… my neighbour!  And her new baby!  I choked, my chest started to close and my mouth went dry.  I cracked a sheepish smile and squeaked a hello.  And you’ll never believe it: the baby wasn’t half as scary as I had made him in my mind.  He was cute and tiny and sleeping angelically in his pram (stroller).  It was almost nice.  The weird thing is that these people are blissfully unaware of all the emotional baggage that comes with struggling for years to conceive, so the conversation was light and whimsical.  Which was fine.  Really.

On the IF front, I have re-checked my thyroid and prolactin, for a laugh.  (Still waiting on the results)  I am still undecided about the FET, and I am taking my time deciding when we will do it.  I guess you could say that I am prolonging it so I won’t have to feel sad again so soon.  Not ready for that yet.  Also, once the FET is done and dusted, and is hasn’t worked (hypothetically) I am not ready for a future with no Lucrin, stims or daily scans.  I am not ready to just fly by the seat of my pants with no big expensive Plan D, E or F in the curtains.  So I am delaying the FET for as long as possible right now. Maybe May or June or even July - when I am good and ready. 

Please pray for Charne, who got one embie and is hoping for a 5 day transfer.  Also Annie, who has lost her baby at 7 weeks.  These girls are both South African as far as I can tell, so they are my homegirls, and they both need your prayers right now. 

That’s where I have been flying lately.  I am still not sure how I am feeling about everything.  I still have not plucked up the courage to go and see my neighbour’s new baby.  I just can’t do it.  I am not good at hiding my feelings and I am afraid that if I pop over there all cooey and gooey, she will see right through me. 

As I was driving into our complex a few days ago, there were two moms sitting on the grass with their flocks of babies and toddlers around them.  When I drove through the gate one of the moms jumped up and rushed to her toddler, who was on a push bike, to usher him to the safety of the curb.  I felt a stab.  I should be sitting there too, making small talk and discussing how little sleep I get etc etc.  And yet I was in my car, driving down to my house where I would be greeted by my dogs.  I have become that woman with the dogs. 

Like I said in my previous post, I am okay.  I just have bouts of sadness.  They come and go - and then come again.  And then go again.  You get the idea.

I have halted adoption and surrogacy investigations for now.  I realised that I was gathering the troops for a war that may or may not occur.  For now I am going to focus on my impending FET (whenever that may be) and should that fail, I know I can start on plan B or C.  I have also realised that when the Hoff has had enough of IF, he switches off completely, whilst I go on a crazy baby acquiring mission.  He starts to withdraw from the process the more involved I become.  So once again I am thinking that just laying off for a while would be ideal for both of us. 

As soon as we have figured out how we will be financing the FET, we will start the proceedings.  It is fruitless for me to torment about my age and the fact that I may only have children well into my 30’s.  That just gives me a feeling of panic and impending doom.  You know how it is, you rush to fall pregnant by December, so that at least it is still in the same year.  When that doesn’t happen, you figure that at least if we conceive in January or February it’ll be a late 2008 baby.  When that doesn’t happen, you panic because the chances of having a live baby in the same year start to dwindle.  You panic because you can see another birthday looming with a barren womb, an empty home and an even emptier pocket. That’s right about where I stand at the moment, and yet I know that no amount of obsessing is going to change things. 

So we’ll take it a day at a time.  See where this crazy path leads us next. To those of you who have “stayed tuned” - thank you - it means the world.

My session with the hypno was a mixed bag.  She is a lovely woman, and we had a really funny conversation about what fertility treatment does to the ol’ sex life. (We’ll keep that between her and I)

The first time she tried to “put me under” I had a panic attack due to the fact that I couldn’t breathe. I have had a chest cold for the last week, but didn’t want to miss the appointment! So when she started with the guided meditation I was breathing through my nose, rather inefficiently.  I was trying so hard to concentrate on what she was saying but all I could think about was the fact that I was busy suffocating!

After much heaving and coughing I calmed down and we got on with it.  It was very relaxing and she basically just talked me through some of the ideas I have about myself which are untrue or distorted.  Such as the fact that I doubt my body’s ability to cope with pregnancy.  Don’t ask me where this idea comes from but it is there.  She also gave me a technique to help me to get to sleep quicker, and it actually worked.  (Very similar to the Body Brilliance CD that I already listen to)

On the fertility front - I am in limbo right now.  I am looking into adoption and surrogacy in the meantime.  Call it my plan B in the event that my FET doesn’t work.  It’s too hard being absolutely positive about a cycle when deep down you know that it may or may not work.  For me it is emotionally safer to go into a treatment with a backup plan than to just assume that I won’t be needing one (mistake in IVF 2).  For now I am just enjoying not doing anything, and living a little.  You forget what it’s like to have a normal day without watching everything you eat and drink, or living in constant uncertainty about the outcome of a cycle.  And it’s quite refreshing not to.

***

Congratulations to Dawn at Nearly Dawn on her little Jim; and Seussgirl at One Day Two Day with little Nathaniel and Joseph.  In the dark that is infertility, these ladies are our glimmer of hope.   There are a few more of you out there about to “pop” - I wish you safe and wonderful birth experiences.  My condolences to those who have lost their precious babies - my thoughts and prayers are with you during this time. 

Sorry about that last post - I wanted to see what that was all about and had to post it in order to gain access.  It looks quite good actually, it is a course about having more energy and getting what you want out of life, your job etc.

I am back to not sleeping - I think the work side of things is playing on my mind.  I lay in bed last night until 2:30 going over the work for this week.  Eventually I listened to some wacko CD which is supposed to lull you to sleep, but they have this crazy bell which “DINGS” every 5 seconds.  So even if it was working, the bell wakes you up.  I ended up listening to a meditation CD called Body Brilliance and that seemed to do the trick.

I still stand by what I said in my previous post about control.  But in life, everything is easier said than done, so I regard myself as a work in progress.

I am going through a forum-stalker phase, where I spend most waking moments on the net waiting for someone to post something new.  I am travelling other people’s IF journeys as I am unable to travel my own right now.  I get a lot of comfort from hearing about their daily injections, scans, follie updates etc. I know, I am a sad example of a human being.  You know what they say - whatever gets you through the day.

As unstable as I am sounding at the moment I am actually okay.  (Besides not sleeping and obsessing about work)  I am very excited to tell you that I have an appointment to see the Hypnotherapist on Wednesday and I can’t wait to hear what she has to say.  I will keep you posted.  Apparently it’s not that scary hypno that takes over your mind and makes you cluck like a chicken - you are very lucid and aware the whole time, it’s a sort of deep meditation from what I can gather.  The other kind is against my religion, so we’ll be doing none of that!

Other than that, I’ve got a nasty cold.  Please post something *someone* so that I can go and stalk you. Thanks. ‘Preciate it.