Just the Four of Us

Today, yesterday and the last few weeks have been a struggle. But today more so than anything. No particular reason, I am sure it’s just a build-up of everything. Isn’t it awful when life knocks you down and makes you feel like giving up.

As you have read over the last few months I have been struggling with fertility. I have mentioned the big dark cloud that looms as things keep getting progressively worse with disappointment after disappointment. Well this is different. I can’t even describe how I am feeling, I am fine one minute and then angry, upset, inconsolable, or just plain crazy the next. My need to control things has increased and my anxiety is through the roof.

This is not a call for sympathy or I am not trying to dwell on things to be a martyr, it is just a lot to digest and I feel like I am mourning. I am mourning the life that I thought I was going to have and the baby that I was going to love with all my heart.

I have received conflicting reports from Doctors, all helping to mess with my head even further. When we met with my Gynaecologist, who did the procedure, on the day my stitches were being removed, she gave us hope. It was more the delivery of the news than the words themselves as she delivered them with a smile and optimism. Sean came out of the meeting with a sigh of relief and said that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. To which my reaction was – “Were we in the same room?”.

She explained that during the hysteroscopy there would have been an element of fluid and there was no spillage from my tubes. The D and C went ok and she was happy enough with her findings and she even showed us pictures of my womb and tubes. From these pictures, she was able to show me the opening to my tubes which were in fact open and not in spasm. However, during the laparoscopy instead of using 10ml of fluid she used 50ml and there was no spill into my abdomen. She explained that during the procedure my tubes might go into spasm but that it was unlikely that this would happen for the length of time that she was doing her investigations. She then explained that my left tube had attached itself to the wall of my bowel with adhesions and that surgery to remove it and free it up may not be successful.

There was so much to take in and she was very understanding and kind, but also said that with the art of making babies anything goes, that although things don’t look or sound great that miracles happen and people have proved her wrong in the past. I am not feeling miracles at the moment. I don’t want to give myself anymore false hope. The last few months have been all about the science and through no fault of my own miracles have not helped. I have done everything I could. I have pumped my body with so many hormones and drugs. I have put my life on hold and I have been borderline insane at times. But no miracles.

I want to believe that everything will be ok and that things are the way they are meant to be, but am I really meant to be this unhappy and this broken. Am I really meant to feel guilty that it’s all my fault that I can’t give Sean another child or my children another sibling. I understand that things happen in life to make you stronger and that you will see down the road why it happened or the greater good that has come from this experience. But this is going on for nearly three years, I would rather just know why I feel like I am being tortured.

My consultant in the fertility clinic in Dublin told me that my tubes are more than likely fine and that they were just in spasm. It was very blasé on the phone and there was no consideration of my feelings. He hadn’t seen the scans, he hadn’t done the procedure, he was just giving me the numbers. He told me he would see me for my next appointment (which was meant to be this week and we would talk about it then). He said to arrange to get another HSG scan done, which I had. This would hopefully show that my tubes were ok and if not, I would have to consider more surgery or IVF. I postponed my appointment with him. What was the point in paying out 200.00 when I had no more information for him. I need to wait to have the next HSG scan done and also be back on treatment to have some blood results to review.

I am afraid to even try for a baby at the moment because I am at risk of ectopic pregnancy and losing my tubes altogether. If I was to fall pregnant I would need an early scan to rule it out. Imagine finding out your pregnant and feeling the excitement that it has finally happened and then living with the worry for a few weeks that it may be ectopic and not viable.

I brought Nathan, my oldest boy to an appointment last night with a craniosacral therapist last night, which is another day’s work. But this woman was able to read me, and not in a physic sort of way. She asked me if I was ok, she said that she could feel that I was holding a lot of upset on my chest. I told her that I was grand and she said that “Mammy’s always are, for the sake of their kids”. Am I that transparent, besides that fact that I am spilling my guts to all of you. But can I not even put on a fake smile and pretend to be ok in public anymore?

Another way of looking at it is why should I have to pretend to be ok? Why can’t I just be a mess all the time? I haven’t slept since the 30th of June, I am exhausted, both mentally and physically, I am trying to put on a brave face for my kids all the time and I am just tired. On the rare occasion that they find me upset I just tell them that I have banged my toe or have a pain in my belly. They have asked a few times in the last few weeks when Holy God is going to give us a baby and I have had to try hold my SHIT together and tell them that there will be no baby for a while and that we are happy, just the four of us……………………………..

To be continued

The Lights Went Out

It’s with a broken heart that I write this post. And while you are reading it, I am sitting with the Doctor waiting for her to say out loud what I already know in my gut to my true.

Friday morning, I went to hospital early, nervous but full of hope. We checked in and made our way to the Day Ward. After meeting my nurse and being shown to my bed I waited patiently to be called for my turn to go to theatre. The nurse went through questions with me, took my weight and then the Doctor came to insert the cannula and take some bloods. I was told that a section had gone in first and I would be next. This wasn’t the case and I was waiting around until 12 to be called.

The anesthetist came around to go through a few things and then I was asked to get into my gown. It was time to go. I had butterflies in my stomach and as Sean kissed me good bye I knew I needed to be strong and just get through the next few hours alone. I was wheeled down to theatre on the bed as I was on a drip to keep my fluids up. I was waiting in the corridor outside of theatre to be called in. My theatre nurse was the same one I had when I was having Jacob. It was familiar space but this time I wasn’t getting the baby I desired so much.

The doctor came out to me before surgery and said that she was going to do the laparoscopy and that if she needed to do any work while inside that I would have to stay overnight. It was time, I was wheeled in and helped from my bed to the operating table. Bright lights and the sterile smell and soon I was under after breathing in gas through the mask.

I woke up nearly three hours later in recovery with the theatre nurse calling my name. I was tired and didn’t want to wake up. There were nurses coming in and out and then my nurse from the day ward arrived. Then in walked my Doctor/Surgeon. I wasn’t fully coherent but I remember everything she said. She told me that she did not do any work during the laparoscopy. She told me I had a lot of adhesions and that my tubes were blocked, especially my left. She told me that she pumped me with blue dye and that it kept pouring out of me and not to be alarmed if there was blue appearing for the next few days. She said that she was checking for endometriosis and I didn’t have it. She said that I wasn’t to go back to work for a while and she gave me a prescription for pain relief. She also mentioned that she needed to check my scans from November as my tubed were not blocked then. She told me to come to see her on Thursday to get my stitches out and to go through the operation. Then she left and my nurse followed her. She was gone about ten or fifteen minutes and I spent that time yapping to the nurses. Coming out of the anaesthetic made me hyper and I couldn’t stop talking.

When my nurse returned, her and the theatre nurse wheeled me back to my room. We met Sean coming out of the theatre doors and he said he had been pacing for an hour and a half. Poor Sean he must have been beside himself with worry. When we got back to the room I asked Sean to dress me, the gown is horrible and sweaty and I was feeling disgusting after the surgery. Poor Sean saw some things that I am sure he wishes he could un-see but he was a trouper. He was an amazing help all day and looked after me the best he could. The nurse told him to go to the car and have a snooze to let me rest and to come back in an hour or so. I couldn’t sleep, I had the urge to pee and eventually called the nurse to help me to the bathroom. My nurse was gone to do another job so there was another lady with me. She was lovely and heavily pregnant with only 10 weeks left.

I was very unsteady on my feet and she propped me up on the way to the bathroom. I got myself onto the toilet and ten minutes later nothing was happening. I had to call out to reassure the nurse I was ok. I eventually squeezed out the tiniest drop and got back into bed. Sean came back soon after that and kept me company. I was so naive and just so delighted to finally know why I wasn’t getting pregnant. I thought that now we knew we could fix it and just unblock my tubes.

It was nearly time to go home and the nurse was in with me checking my wound. It was oozing a bit but nothing to be worried about. She took out my cannula and was talking to me about how attentive Sean had been all day and how we were an amazing couple. Then she started to get upset. The conversation moved on to whether I could remember what the Doctor had said to me earlier as she didn’t want me to get upset on Thursday if I was hearing it for the first time, that my tubes were blocked. She asked me if we had thought of any other options like IVF or adoption and I think she knew by my face that we hadn’t. None of this conversation registered with me as being strange until the next day and I just continued as my happy little self, glad to be finally getting out of hospital.

I got home and my sister had Jacob, I came in and put my feet up waiting for Jacob to get some cuddles. I face-timed Nathan to reassure him I was home and ok and had a quick chat with my sister when she called over, then It was off to bed. That night Jacob slept with me and although it was lovely to have him there, I was in a lot of pain. Sean had to work the next day so Jacob and I got up around 8:30 and I made him some brekkie. Soon afterwards alarm bells started going off.

I remembered that my tubes weren’t blocked in November and this was one of the first things to be checked in the fertility process. Then I thought it was strange that if there were adhesions there and she was already working on me why she hadn’t dissected them. Then the nurse came to mind and how she got upset and asked me had I thought of any other options. It was time to use Dr Google. It was confirmed, blocked tubes are nearly impossible to unblock if there are adhesions and scar tissue. I would never conceive naturally again. My whole world crumbled and my heart began to race. I lay on the couch barely able to move, screaming with the physical pain of heart break. How could this be happening. Months of torture all for nothing. I didn’t mind doing it as there was light at the end of the tunnel. Now the lights had gone out.

I text my fertility advisor to call me when she was free. I needed to hear it from a professional. The rest of the day was a blur. I told my Mam but she didn’t want to believe it and told me to wait until Thursday when I met my Doctor. I told Sean and my sister and each time my heart broke a little more. Saying it out loud made it real. My dreams were crushed. And I know a few of you might be saying – but you have two beautiful boys. Although I cherish them and love them with every ounce of me, when you long for a baby and then find out that your body has failed you, it’s heart breaking beyond belief. I feel like I am in mourning, I feel guilty as it’s my body that has failed and I am denying Sean anymore children, I feel so angry that this has happened and I am sure there will be no real explanation as to why. Why is the big question? Why me? ………..

To be continued

Welcome Distractions

It was the week leading up to the procedure and I was distracted with Birthday parties, football matches, training and other kids related stuff. The weekend started with Jacob graduating from Montessori on Thursday. It was an emotional day and both Sean and I were bursting with pride, our baby was finally finished creche and ready for big school. On Friday, after school Nathan attended a joint party for two of his friends and of course Jacob tagged along and then after that they had a match and I had dinner with a friend. The next morning was a breakfast birthday party at 10am, which they both attended and we were meant to go back that afternoon for the older brother’s party but poor Jacob was wrecked and fell asleep. He was all partied out.

I spent Saturday afternoon scrubbing the house trying to get on top of the house work for the following weekend as I knew I would be out of action. In between scrubbing and cooking I went outside to chat to one of the neighbour’s. It was an overcast day with a lovely breeze but still warm. I didn’t see the sun pop out at all that day but Mr Sun definitely saw me. I got the worst burn of my life all over my chest and down my arms as far as the inside of my elbows. And course I had a shiny Rudolf nose. I didn’t notice it till that evening until it started to get sore and turn purple. I am usually so careful wearing factor 50 to avoid these situations. I was so annoyed with myself but at the same time confused as it wasn’t overly sunny.

Saturday night in all my shinny sun burnt glory I had a ladies’ night organized out the back. We put up a gazebo and we all had our blankets to snuggle as the night went on. It was a well needed escape from the stress that I was facing with the impending operation. We laughed until the early hours of the morning and I enjoyed a jug on Pimm’s. Of course, I over stocked for the night, preparing freshly cut orange, lemon and lime slices, sliced strawberries and some mint to spice up the drinks. There were jars of sweets, pringles, doritos and pretzels a plenty. I thoroughly enjoyed the release and the company and of course paid for it the next morning.

Sunday was a quiet day by all accounts, we took turns getting some sleep and about 4pm I got the bright idea to go to Portlaoise. I wanted to get some leggings and a loose top for the hospital as it was a day procedure and a jammies wasn’t necessary. Much to everyone’s dismay we all headed to Portlaoise. It was a quick visit, in and out of Shaws sorted the clothes and I ran into Boots with ten minutes to spare to get some Aloe Vera for my burns. Boys got a cheeky McDonalds and everyone was happy going home. I packed my bag that night and everyone got into our bed at eight o’clock to watch some America’s Got Talent.

Like the weekend, the week was as busy. Monday Nathan got his school report and to treat him and celebrate I brought him to the cinema. We were like the CIA trying to get out of the house without telling Jacob. Nathan was dying to get his hair cut so we went there first. Blade 3, a comb over and two lines shaved in his head later we were on route to Portlaoise. Much to his disappointment I stopped in Shaws first. I wanted to see if I could get a soft wireless sports bra that I could wear under my clothes at night-time and specifically for the hospital. I wanted something that separates the to footballs attached to my chest but without any wires. Such a thing doesn’t exist and after trying on a few Granny bra’s we bolted.

A quick feed in SuperMacs and then off to the cinema to see “The Diary of a Whimpy kid – The Long Haul”. I booked the tickets online and luckily got them for half price with the June offer. We had a great time and it was nice to have Nathan to myself. Jacob is two years younger but still considers himself a baby at times. He monopolizes me and poor Nathan doesn’t get a look in. I think he does it to get a rise out of Nathan most of the time and then I have to explain that there is plenty of me to share. Nathan enjoyed himself and that’s what mattered. I was so proud of his good report.

Tuesday was one of the neighbour’s birthdays. When I got home from work they were already there and I happened to get an appointment with the nail technician to fix my nails. The top coat on a few of them had cracked and I was embarrassed about going to hospital with them that way. Sean was off early on Tuesday so it worked out well and he was able to pick them up from the party and I followed home.

Wednesday night was training in the rain, I had to wet boys jump into the car afterwards. Home for a bath and some super and then bed. Sean was working late both Wednesday and Thursday night so he could be off Friday so I was running around after the monkeys by myself. I left Thursday night free so I could get myself ready.

I took a long time to settle the boys to bed Thursday night. I had to explain to them that I may not be there when they woke the next morning as I was leaving early to go to the hospital. Their childminder was coming over to get them out of bed and ready. It was Nathan’s last day of school and he was going for a sleepover in a friend’s after school so I didn’t need to worry about him the next day.

However, that night he was very unsettled. He kept getting out of bed and I had so much to do. At first, I was getting annoyed with him and telling him to go back to bed. But then I realised he just needed some reassurance. I realised this when I was having a shower and a tiny person appeared and frightened the life out of me. I followed him back into his room when I was dressed and gave him loads of cuddles. I explained that I was going to hospital in the morning to get my tummy checked to make sure it was ok and that I would be home the same day. He was going to have his iPad with him in his friends and at any time all he had to do was Face Time Daddy to check on me. He seemed happy with that and turned out to go asleep. As I was walking out of the room he called me back and asked, as he always does, “When is Holy God going to give us a baby Mammy?” And I replied as I always do, “Soon baby, very soon”.

Or so I thought………………………………………

To be continued

Internal Combustion

To all my wonderful followers, sorry I have disappeared for a while. When you are exposing yourself, and sharing your inner thoughts and feelings it can be very draining. Don’t get me wrong I am really enjoying it and find it very therapeutic, but at the same time it’s very hard to be so vulnerable.

During my last post, I talked about waiting for my blood results. I received the phone call from the GP and they said that my progesterone was not tested, however my oestrogen levels were at 871. A huge jump from my highest ever reading. However, I was gutted that my progesterone had not come back, this was the tell all result that I needed and it wasn’t good enough. I called back to the doctor’s and happened to get the lady on the phone who took my bloods. She said that she definitely requested for progesterone and said that the results were in fact back. I asked her to get the GP to phone me back.

Shock to the system! My progesterone had reached 116. I couldn’t believe it. I was so thrilled. This had to be it. I called the clinic and they said that they were happy with the results and no change to treatment. I also spoke to my fertility advisor and told all my nearest and dearest. We were all so optimistic and praying that it had eventually worked. I was feeling sick, tired, and suffering terrible with indigestion. My breasts were really tender and I was delighted. All signs that I was pregnant.

My periods were late by not one, but two days. This was it. I was so excited. I even looked up my due date. I was due on my birthday. All the signs were pointing in the right direction and I was thrilled. Day three late and I got out of bed. I knew before I even went to the toilet, my dreams were crushed. My periods came and were heavier than ever. Probably due to my progesterone levels, meaning my lining was thicker. It was now the 1st of June and I had a choice to make.

I was devastated to say the least. I think what made it worse was that my results were where they needed to be. I was finally reacting to the medication and I was so optimistic that it had finally started to work. It was not a good day but as I said decisions had to be made. I called the clinic and told them. They said that because I was getting the procedure done at the end of June that I should stay off all medication for June and try avoiding fertile days. That’s it I was on holidays.

Officially I couldn’t try this month. If I did by some miracle conceive, it would be too early to tell when I was going for my procedure and I could potentially, accidentally abort the baby. I couldn’t take the chance so the chastity belt went on 😊. Nathan had his school tour the next day so it was easy to focus on his excitement. I also had to pack for our holidays as we were heading off early on Saturday morning. That evening I had a hair appointment. I hadn’t got my hair done in ages and fancied a change. Probably not the right day to go, being so hormonal. I sat down for my consultation and said I wanted to go back blonde and I wanted to cut it. I have been dying it brown for a year or two now and it doesn’t last very long. My own natural tones are so warm that cool tones won’t stick. Blonde it was.

I sat in the chair with all the packets in my hair thinking what have I done, am I brave enough for this huge change. Will I like it? I am very attached to my hair and when it doesn’t work out how I envisage it I get very upset. I didn’t need any more upset today, why did I do this to myself. Suck it up, Dawn. It will be grand, I kept telling myself. It was the hormones. I was like a crazy lady in my head, talking to myself 😊. I had planned on get waxed but my periods ruined that too so I decided to get my eyebrows and eyelashes tinted. The beauty therapist told me that she could help me fill out my brows if I give her a few months. This was music to my ears as I often look like I have no eyebrows, they are so light and so thin. With all this going on you can only imagine was I looked like. The tint was put in and the packets removed. A treatment was put in my hair and I was left to return to my seat. Once I sat down I got an awful fright. The state of me. My eyebrows were so bushy and my hair slicked off my face. I looked like a man. That’s it, there was internal combustion going on. I had exploded inside. Nobody approach me, nobody even look at me, I needed to pull myself together. Help! Crazy person trying to escape.

I thought they would never remove me from in front of the mirror, oh good god, hide my reflection. The treatment was removed and my brows were waxed, the excess tint was removed and the two hairy-mollies across my forehead were reduced to slightly thicker darker brows than I had before. Phew, I could look in the mirror again without repulsing. My hair was still wet though and I wasn’t sure how I was going to react. Oh, the torture. Hurry up and cut it, I have no patience. The inner dialogue was on over drive tonight. Luckily my hair was ok, it was a shock to the system and was going to take some getting used to but I didn’t hate it. What made my day was when I went to pay, Mammy had gotten there before me. I was delighted, such a kind and generous gesture. It was now time for bed, woah! I was tired, time to switch off the brain.

Nathan loved his school tour on the Friday and as I waved him off that morning I decided that June was going to be all about the kids, about me and about Sean. We had our holidays to look forward to, a concert in Cork, I had planned dinner with an old friend and a cocktail night with my neighbours. Sometimes I think we spend so much time in our heads, overthinking and worrying that sometimes we feel like we are going to explode. I know that this is true for me and I need to remember that I have loads to look forward to and so much to be thankful for………………………………………….

To be continued

Back to Square One

As I sit here today, sick to my stomach, waiting on my blood results I look back over the last six weeks and I honestly don’t know what end of me is up. I feel like giving up and over the last week or two have decided on an end date. It’s not set in stone, but something has to give. Feeling sick, not sleeping, nauseous with worry, having anxiety attacks; it’s no way to live. It’s not fair on my heart or my head, or my poor stomach.

After Nathan got better in April I was coming up to ovulation. My mucus started to appear and I had a perfect score for April. I was optimistic and excited because last month’s results were so good, with progesterone of 50. I took all my meds and injection as I was supposed to and went for my bloods on peak plus 7. Two days later I got my results. My oestrogen was fine at 500+ but my progesterone had plummeted to 25. This means I didn’t ovulated and thinking about it more, I am on progesterone top ups every month so therefore my real result would have been much lower than this again. I felt like I was back at square one and that the last couple of months taking medication was for nothing.

What more can I do, how much more of me can I give. My whole life is consumed by infertility. I can’t get away from it. Sometimes I have outer body experiences and look down at my tired broken self and wonder is it worth it. Every month when I get bad news something dies inside of me. I can’t forget about it, I can’t just try and relax or enjoy myself as I am constantly tracking each day of my cycle. My stomach is always bloated, my moods swing all month with the hormones. I am trying to remain grounded and keep my crazy for Sean but that doesn’t always work. I just keep asking myself – WHY ME, WHY NOW??

I got the results in work on a Wednesday afternoon at the end of April and to say I was broken is an understatement. I was in the office on my own thank god, as I broke down. I thought the day would never be over. I had to pull myself together in work but once I got in the car, I broke down again. I cried all the way home, big elephant size tears, I was drowned, my sunglasses kept sliding off my face. I had to pick the kids up from the childminder and I looked terrible. I tried to disguise my upset but when she asked me if I had a headache I broke down again.

The rest of the day was a blur and I took to the bed, typical Irish person, but sometimes its essential. I had no choice, I couldn’t be social able or pleasant, I just needed to process. When I get upset or anxious I have to keep occupied, I can’t sit because my thoughts consume me. So, for the days to follow I started to paint, I painted all the new fences out the back, all three coats. I power hosed and planted up a storm. Then I moved onto the front of the house and started painting all my flower boxes and arranged to have the house painted. I had to put my energy into something other than me.

I got my periods the May Bank Holiday weekend, I knew they were coming so on the Saturday night I enjoyed a few glasses of wine in my parents’ house for my sisters going away party. She moved to London to start her career and I couldn’t be prouder of her. She had an early start on the Sunday morning so it was early home for everyone. When I got home, Sean was going next door to watch a fight, so I grabbed one of the girls and we had a few drinks and a chat while the fight was on.  It was well needed and I enjoyed relaxing for a few hours. The next day was a write off. Sean was very understanding, I wasn’t hungover, I was exhausted. My bones couldn’t hold me. I got up for breakfast and went back to bed. The boys had a birthday party so Sean brought them and left me alone for the day. I got up while they were gone and cleaned up and did some washing, but it was straight back to bed for me. It was a day of rest I needed and when I got up on Monday morning my periods came.

I made a conscious effort to eat healthily, when I could. I went to see a dietician for meal ideas but I honestly didn’t find it any good. The suggestions were a lot of food I didn’t like, I know you are meant to try new things but I am 32 and I know what tastes I enjoy. I felt the meeting was more geared to exercise and he told me that I needed to be active 7 days a week. I explained that I have two kids and that this is an un-realistic expectation, but I felt like he was patronising me telling me that if I really wanted to I would and that I need to set myself an exercise goal and that should motivate me. I wasn’t there for exercise advise and nor was I really interested. The whole idea was to get suggestion of foods and meals so that I could avoid mainly dairy and wheat as they have been found to be fertility blockers. I was really disappointed with the meeting and felt it was €80.00 wasted. To top it off the meeting was Friday morning and he didn’t send me my meal plans until late Sunday night. I’m sure all of you who have young children know the stress of bringing them to the supermarket. I try avoiding it at all costs, so my window of getting to the shops that week was gone.

I decided to buy loads of the Paleo Ireland meals and cut carbs out completely, bar rice. I don’t know whether it was stress or the change of diet but my stomach got very sick. I had chronic diarrhoea for days and the pains in my stomach got so bad that I thought it was appendicitis. At this stage, it was time for me to take sight of the situation and deal with what had happened – how I was feeling and to breath for 5 minutes. It’s when you stop for a minute your brain kicks back in and what your avoiding comes to the surface.

I called the Gynaecologists office and requested follicle tracking for this month. I needed to know what was happening in my body and which side was active this month. I strongly believe that it was my left side in April and that’s why I didn’t ovulate. I also called the hospital to find out when I was scheduled in for a DandC and Laparoscopy. I had to take action. Follicle tracking was organised for Day 9 of my cycle, unfortunately my right side could not be seen due to having a distended bowel. This was as a result of being so sick. There were 2 x 11mm follicles in my left ovary and on day 12 this increased to 4 x 11mm and 1 x 9mm. Between Days 9 and 12 was when I made the decision to put a date on it. Not an exact date but a month. I had to create a finish line for my sanity.

On Day 12 my right ovary could barely be made out, after what seemed like half an hour of searching, a shadowed sight appeared and I had a follicle of approximately 18mm. It could have been bigger but with the restricted view, we couldn’t be sure. I also had a positive LH surge on my ovulation kit that morning.

I phoned the clinic with the results and they suggested that I take the HCG injection the following night. Following their orders, I did just that. I arranged with my fertility advisor to administer the injection and I was back to hoping again. This month my progesterone intake was increased. As well as the pessary’s. I also had to take three extra injections of HCG at a lower dose on Peak +3, 5 and 7. I didn’t want to impose on my fertility advisor on all of these days so I asked my sister to give them to me. She seemed way to happy to inflict pain (only kidding), she was happy to help.

On Peak +3 we were both standing in my kitchen, I knew how to mix the liquid with the powder and get the needle ready for her, but there was no way in hell I was doing it to myself. I gave her the needle and I knew she was nervous too. I told her what she needed to do and when she approached me with the needle I reversed. Instinct 😊!!! Eventually we pulled ourselves together and the injection was administered. It was fine. It doesn’t hurt going in but it stings when the liquid is pushed in and I think it has something to do with applying pressure to the needle as you push it in. All over and Peak plus 5 and 7 to look forward to.

I was given a date at the end of June for my procedure, which means I will have another full cycle before then. My understanding with a DandC I will have to wait a month or two to try again as I will have no lining on my womb. With no lining, an embryo would not be able to implant and if it did, there is risk of miscarrying. So, in my head, July and August are out.  I made the decision to enjoy my summer with the boys and Sean. No point investing my energy into a lost cause – once I have given it two cycles we can try again. Giving us time to reflect on what’s important and all the emotional torture we have been through for the last two and a half years.

On a plus note the house is looking great. I have put so much energy into getting it looking good we are nearly there …………………………………

To be continued

Kids Come First

April was a new month; my positivity was oozing. I was so excited. Then reality hits and these things that consume you don’t seem so important anymore when your child gets sick. Easter was approaching and the kids were bursting with excitement. The thoughts of all those Easter eggs. On the Thursday before the Easter holidays I collected Nathan from my Mam’s as normal. He was complaining of a headache and was very sheepish when I picked him up. In the ten minutes, it took me to drive home he couldn’t open his eyes as the light was hurting him. I told him to go straight upstairs when we got home and go to bed.

Nathan is not a child to give in easily, there is always a row in the evenings when it is time for him to come in off the road and get ready for bed so for him to get out of the car that evening, go straight upstairs, close his shutters and get into bed was so unusual. He got into bed fully clothed with his shoes on and by the time I had unloaded the car and got into the house his temperature had soared and he was shaking in the bed. I helped take his shoes off and gave him some calpol to try get his temperature down. All the while he was crying cause the door was slightly ajar so I could see what I was doing. He fell asleep soon afterwards and I checked on him occasionally.

Sean came home at 6ish and I filled him in, I had an appointment in Portlaoise so I rushed off, keeping in contact with him over the phone to get updates on Nathan. My appointment lasted an hour or so and when I got back to the car I saw a missed called from Sean. Nathan had woken up and got sick and he was still very hot. I knew in my gut when I saw the call that Nathan had been sick, I could just feel it. I was home soon after that and checked on him. As Sean was filling me in we could hear someone up and Nathan had stumbled into the bathroom and was crying because of the light, trying to go to the toilet. He was very disorientated and wobbly on his feet. I helped him get back into bed and gave him some Neurofen to help with his temperature.

After I settled him I called the VHI 24-hour nurse-line. I went through all his symptoms and she stopped me and said, “Mammy you need to bring him straight to A&E”. I knew I would have to, but sometimes you need a professional’s opinion to let you know you’re not overreacting. Poor Nathan, I had to get him out of bed and into the car, trying to keep his eyes covered at all times. The drive to Portlaoise in the dark must have helped him or the medicine must have kicked in because when we got to Portlaoise he had cooled down and cheered up a bit. It’s always the way when you bring your kids to the doctors they make a liar out of you. I remember as a child myself being very sick and lying in Mammy’s bed. It was late at night and before the Midoc and out of hours Doctor’s services that are available these days. Mam called our doctor at the time as she must have been worried about me and he came out to the house. When he was gone, I can remember her giving out, messing, that all I did was smile when the doctor was there and made her feel like a liar. Ooops!

Anyway, back to Nathan, we had to check in downstairs and I swear the receptionist thought I was a hypochondriac. She let us in and we made our way upstairs. It was 10ish and there were two babies ahead of us. Nathan was wrecked so he fell asleep on the couch, thank god, he did as we were waiting hours before we even got seen. I couldn’t understand the wait with only two ahead. While we were waiting a couple with a seven-week-old baby came in. Baby was crying and Mam was too, on and off. Baby had been crying all day and they were worried about him. They had forgotten to bring any bottles with them, probably not knowing how long you can be held up as it was their first. A nurse went to get them a bottle to feed him to see if that would help with the crying. As she was gone to get it, Mam was getting very frustrated and started to cry again. I really felt for her, as I know how it feels not knowing what to do to help your baby and then the guilt of feeling that you are doing something wrong.

The nurse came with the bottle and baby started to drink it. However, the teeth were too big and he was gulping. I was sitting there and I could hear him filling with wind as he gulped and his poor tummy was rumbling. I was toying with the idea of saying something, will I, won’t I. Well I did. He was crying as he drank and it was obviously so uncomfortable for him. I had to interrupt and I just explained that he was filling with air and that he was going to be in a lot of pain, the teeth were too big. She agreed and decided to fly home to get him his own bottle. I think she needed the break.

While she was gone, I offered to take the baby from her husband, I really just wanted a cuddle for myself 😊 He was so cute and tiny. Poor pet had colic and was full of air. As I held him in my arms and rubbed his back he got up loads of wind. He eventually settled and drifted off to sleep. As he was quite I was talking to the dad and subtly tried to tell him to keep an eye on his wife as she seemed to be struggling. I knew her pain, I suffered through it, and getting on top of it early and getting support and help from your loved ones is so important. He seemed like a really nice and genuine guy and was all about his wife, which was lovely to see. But something he said shocked me. I mentioned Post Natal Depression and that I had suffered with it after my boys and he said that people are talking about it too much, its everywhere. He said that people are too quick to jump to it and that in his case his wife just needed her Mam and she would be ok. He didn’t have an attitude, he was just matter of fact and that’s what he thought. It threw me really, as the whole problem is women don’t talk about it as much as they should and they suffer in silence until the problem consumes them. It needs to be more acceptable to talk about and to ask for help.

Besides that, he was a lovely guy and was asking me all about Nathan and was very kind and polite. When his wife came back, the Doctor happened to call me at the same time. Nathan was still asleep so I told them to go ahead first, they were worried and distraught and Nathan’s symptoms had subsided to an extent. They happily took the offer and we were called soon afterwards.

I went through all of Nathan’s symptoms with the doctor and he felt it was important to get a sample of Nathan’s blood to test. Poor Nathan doesn’t do pain, bit like his Daddy. I had to restrain him while they inserted the cannula. He is so dramatic at the best of times and was sweating and screaming at the thoughts of the inserting the needle. He also needs to know exactly what is happening at all time and needs to watch so that didn’t help matters. I remember about a year ago he got a splinter in his finger. It was hurting him and he wanted it out. That day will be engrained into my memory forever. I sat him on the kitchen counter and although he wanted it out, he didn’t want me to look at it, let alone touch it. That was proving to be difficult because without super powers I wasn’t going to be able to get it out. He screamed and shouting and sweated for a solid hour. He jumped down off the counter so many times and pulled his hand out of mine every time I was close to getting it out. Two people called to the door that evening to what I am sure they thought was a torture house. I was shouting at him to stay still, he was shouting at me to take it out, don’t touch, stop, ouch it hurts and then Sean was there trying to calm us both down. It was like a comedy show on TV.

So, you can only imagine what he was like when they were trying to put the cannula in. They got it in eventually. He is allergic to the numbing cream so they used a spray, but even that wasn’t welcomed. They took a sample of his blood and told us to wait in the waiting room until the results came in. At this stage I was getting tired and so was he. I thought they were going to send us home as he wasn’t symptomatic anymore. The couple with the baby came out while we were waiting and they were given the all clear with baby. He had colic and that’s why he was screaming all day. I suggested they get him tested for intolerance to dairy and also look for some alternative remedies that might help him. As they left the doctor approached me and took me by surprise. He told me Nathan’s white blood cell count was alarmingly high and they were admitting him. They were worried about Meningitis and wanted to get him on very strong antibiotics asap.

I called Sean to tell him and asked that he get some clothes ready for us. Then I called Daddy to see if he would bring them over. I felt terrible as it was 3am before we got admitted so he had to get out of bed. Sean fell back to sleep, the big dope 😊 I had to ring him again to wake him up. Once Dad had gone I was able to lie down on the extra comfortable chair bed and close my eyes for a while. On the rounds the next morning the doctors explained that they were worried about meningitis and that they wanted to send bloods to Temple Street and run their own bloods cultures. They also wanted to do a lumbar puncture – I said no, not unless it was completely necessary and wanted to wait for the blood results first. Nathan was spiking a temperature for a few hours but it was soon controlled with medication and the nurses were in every few hours to administer antibiotics into his cannula.

Its gas, kids are so funny. Nathan was upset as he was missing his last day of school – seriously! It was more like missing out on the party in school. He had loads of visitors that day and was delighted with all the match attacks he got, spoilt rotten. The boredom was starting to set in and he was in isolation so couldn’t leave his room. Either could I as he didn’t want to let me out of his sight. When Dad came over late I ran out when he was going to get something to eat and left Nathan with Sean. When I got back he was asleep and I followed soon afterwards. The next morning when he woke up he was as bright as a button and that was heightened when Nanny arrived with the white and grey united kit. He was made up. Had to get dressed straight away. He was running around the room and dancing. After Nanny left for work we got some breakfast and he wolfed it down. All we needed now was the doctors to come around to discharge us, we had cabin fever.

The night before we got the all clear for meningitis. I had to chase them for the results as no one told us. With those results and the fact that Nathan hadn’t spiked a temperature since the day before and he was in flying form, I wanted to go home and keep an eye on him myself. He didn’t need round the clock medical attention anymore. The doctor came in and he was lovely. He got Nathan to do some jumps and tests and Nathan was loving the attention. He had young kids himself and was chatting football with Nathan as he was all kitted out. I asked for him to be discharged and eventually got around him. They wanted us to stay for the week, but I had Jacob to think of, my job and also Nathan’s sanity. He wasn’t feeling sick anymore, if he was I would be the first to stay. They let us home on the condition that we came back daily for IV antibiotics and therefore the cannula had to stay in. It was a compromise we could accept.

Nathan was delighted to get out and he strolled out on top of the world. He insisted on going straight to the barbers to get his hair cut. He’s gas. Dad met us there with Jacob and he was thrilled to see us both. It was a beautiful day and Nathan was glad to get home to his own house and see his friends outside. He sat on the bench first talking to them and he even snuck in some football.

The next few days we went back to the hospital each day for IV antibiotics. After a few days though his fingers were very cold and his arm too. He was uncomfortable and had pins and needles. I called the hospital and they said they would probably have to redo the cannula in the order hand when he came in the next day. That was not the case. They removed it completely and he was reassessed. The doctor had a team of student doctors with him and nurses and on review of Nathan’s file wanted to re-admit him. I refused, he was only covering himself I think and we negotiated to get oral antibiotics instead. We were free, Nathan was thrilled. He had to get repeat bloods the following week but besides that he could start enjoying his Easter holidays.

We never found out exactly what was wrong with him but was glad it didn’t manifest into something serious. With all this going on you can only imagine I completely forgot about myself. I didn’t get a chance to arrange follicle tracking and I sure wasn’t thinking about ovulation. Luckily I was only at the beginning of my cycle and didn’t miss any of the important days…………………………….

To be continued

March – The Month of Many Weathers

I started into March down in the dumps and just heartbroken. But as I said before I had to pick myself up and look forward to the next month. I think a positive attitude helps things along. I started my new cycle on March 2nd and on day three and four I took my fermara x 5 on each day. I called the OBGYN to arrange follicle tracking for day 9. This has become so important to me as it helps me understand what is happening inside. How my body is responding to the hormones and if this month is looking good. Well it was all good news this month with my results, things were looking up. But don’t get too excited – no pregnancy yet.

On Day 9, I went for follicle tracking, Aideen greeted a very upset me. I found it hard to hold back my disappointment of last month and getting my periods. I wear my heart on my sleeve and am always hoping for the best and miracles so that when it doesn’t happen the disappointment is huge. Aideen could see that I was upset and explained a few things. My scan showed that I had a follicle 17.9mm – this was a good size for day 9 but not ready to rupture yet. The scan also showed the many follicles or cysts in my left ovary. Aideen asked me out of the blue “what do you do to be creative”. I thought I misheard her at first and asked her to repeat herself. She put me on the spot. I couldn’t think of anything off hand and just replied that I don’t really take much time to myself for anything. Aideen explained that in Chinese medicine your left side is your female side and your creative side. By being creative you are forcing your left side to work and this may help it to be more functional.

This is where “Get Creative” came from. Aideen told me to go home and even if I just did some art with the boys or found a hobby for myself this would help. When I thought about it afterwards, although I don’t sit down with the kids for art time as they are so busy, I am very creative in my own ways. I love to partake in interior design, I think I have a good eye for it, I am also very creative in the garden and love putting together plants and colours and creating a calming space. I love to bake and decorate cakes and buns and there are loads of different ideas rolling around in my head at any given time. So, although I am not obviously creative, I am definitely not without creativity.

I was scheduled back in for another appointment a few days later, on day 12. This time the follicle had grown to a juicy size of 24mm, it was ready to pop. I arranged for my HCG injection to be given that night as advised by the fertility clinic and then the next morning I got a positive result on the ovulation tests. Everything was looking good. I had a few days of good mucus and from this I was able to calculate my peak day. My review appointment was the 20th and I was full of hope going up there. I met with Dr. Michelle and we went through my charts briefly and then discussed changing my medication going forward. I also told her what Aideen had suggested about taking Co-Enzyme’s and Exputex – she agreed and included them on my updated medication list. Then she suggested the Food Intolerance test. This was quick and simple and a whopping €135.00 on top of the consultation fee. But as you can see from my previous post about the results it is worth it to find out.

A few days passed and on peak plus seven I got my bloods done – Progesterone and Oestrodial. I was optimistic this month and couldn’t wait to get the results a few days later. I remember ringing the nurse and it felt like I was getting my leaving cert results all over again. The butterflies in my tummy were flying all over the place. The nurse nearly knows me at this stage and when she gave me my Progerterone result I had a little screech of excitement. It was 50.4. Such a huge jump from last month and I was thrilled. The Oestrogen was also good at 537. I felt so positive this month and of course was wishing and hoping that this was it.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be this month either and although getting my periods upset me I was so hopeful as the results were finally looking up. April, this was going to be the month………………………………

To be continued

 

Unanswered Prayers

My birthday was finally here, I was awoken like most mornings with a smile and a squeeze from Nathan, he is always the first up in the mornings. Jacob was soon to follow. Sean got up and got my presents and the boys were full of excitement giving them to me. We put on Bruno Mars “Perm” and had a little disco in the bed. The opening line is “It’s my birthday (No it’s not) ……”. After our sing song and the boys shaking there moves, it was time to get up and get organised. Bathroom first and then……. My periods had arrived. As prepared as you are for them to come, there is always disappointment. It hit me like a blow to the chest and I was crying uncontrollably in the bathroom. Sean came to see what was the matter, the boys were down stairs having their breakfast. He hugged me and told me everything was going to be ok and it will happen when it’s supposed to and all the usual things a man says when he really has no clue how their wife is feeling at that moment but is instinct is to make it better. I was inconsolable.

Tears as big as golf balls streamed down my face for what seemed like hours, I felt drained and my heart was hurting. I had to pull myself together. It was my birthday, I had to go to work. I had so much to be thankful for. I got ready and set off, on the way I called the chemist and ordered my medication for this cycle, I am always worried to order it before I get my periods in case I am giving up hope and with that maybe brings bad luck. Always stay positive until reality hits. Work wasn’t too bad. I work with my Dad so I got a big birthday hug when I arrived. His business partner heard me talking about buying a BBQ and gave me one of the commercial ones we have on sale in the showrooms. The day was starting to look up.

I called my gynaecologist that I visited in January to arrange follicle tracking for February. She too prescribed me hormones to take at the beginning of each cycle but I decided to stay with the medication from the clinic in Dublin as it was a full treatment of each cycle from start to finish. I was booked in for Day 9, which to me was too early and I explained that I don’t usually ovulate until day 15/16. No it was Day 9 and that was it. This worked out to be a Friday and as I only work a half day on a Friday I decided to book the day off.

In a bid to cheer me up Sean booked Kelly’s Steakhouse for dinner that night and I organised my sister to babysit. The food was fabulous as usual and we had a great evening. I even treated myself to some wine. It was straight to bed after dinner. Friday was a busy day. I had work for a few hours and then off to the local GAA Dinner Dance. When I got home it was off to the blow dry bar for GHD curls and then to get my make-up done. My neighbour is a make-up artist and she is amazing. She always makes me look and feel great. I wore a black jumpsuit from Joanna Hope purchased from the Simply Be website. It was bedazzled and very flattering.

It was a great night and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I was able to relax and unwind. I met the midwife from the clinics that we attended during both pregnancies and she was always so good to us. I told her my situation briefly and she said to hang in there, to continue taking the metformin and it should start to work in the next couple of months. I needed to hear that and get her reassurance. I was obviously meant to go to the Dinner Dance and meet her that night.

The month continued and I took the hormones on day three and day four. This month they had been increased to ten from seven to see if this had any affect. I went for my follicle tracking in the early pregnancy unit in Portlaoise on day nine of my cycle. It was great to go as it gives you some indication of what’s happening on the inside and if your body is responding well to the drugs. The lady who did it for me was amazing, she was so kind and helpful and had great advice for me that I had never heard before. She suggested taking Exputex as this would help me produce more mucus each cycle. You should take it in the days coming up to ovulation. She also suggested that both Sean and I start taking Co-Enzyme Q10 as it helps strengthen the head of the sperm to aid penetrating the hard exterior of the egg and also should help me produce better quality eggs. There are loads of more reasons why to use these supplements but they are the main ones.

That day my largest follicle on my right-side measured 21mm. This was a big improvement to last cycle and I was over the moon. I went out to the car and called my fertility advisor straight away. She suggested calling the clinic, which I did next. They wanted me to take the HCG injection the next day. A mature follicle that is due to rupture usually reaches 24mm, on their advice, so I was very close. Once the injection is given, it causes the follicle to rupture within 36 hours and then ovulation occurs. The reason behind the injections is to ensure that the follicles rupture as sometimes this process doesn’t occur. As it happened the next morning I got a smiley face on my ovulation test which indicated an LH surge. I was good to go. I called Mary and made arrangements to see her that evening.

This cycle progressed normally, the progesterone was not really affecting me as badly anymore and I started taking Femtab this cycle to bring up my Oestrogen levels. On day twenty (peak plus seven) I got my bloods done and the results came back a few days later. My Oestrogen levels had come back up to 605, I was thrilled but the progesterone was still low at 42.6. It’s so frustrating, one without the other is no good and I had to prepare myself for disappointment again this month.

As it happened my periods were late, I got very excited and was praying for a miracle. In the back of my mind I was excited. A year previous I had lost a very special uncle and I pray to him and Nana all the time to send me a baby, put a good word in. It was coming up to his 1st year anniversary and my periods were nowhere to be seen, I thought my prayers had been answered. But it was not meant to be. They came a few days later and again I went through the same emotions as last month. I felt myself slipping under the dark cloud again, I thought this month was it, I felt like I was being teased with them being late. It’s not fair. I would love that baby so much and I honestly considered giving up treatment. I had a review appointment with the clinic in Dublin that I made in November and I postponed it. I couldn’t face it, it wasn’t going to affect this cycle regardless as it had begun already, so what was the point until I figured things out in my own head.

It’s so hard every day to face infertility issues. I know I have my beautiful boys and they are what keep me going. However, they are constantly asking for a new baby, especially my oldest boy, he loves kids and is so kind and gentle with them. He likes to talk before bed every night and have cuddles and asks when Holy God is going to send us a baby. He plans if it’s a girl or a boy depending on his mood that day and he picks out the baby’s name. He tells me he wants the baby to sleep with him and we laugh and joke about him changing dirty nappies. He refers to the spare room as the baby’s room and we have all got into that habit now. I always tell him our baby is not ready yet but Holy God will put it into Mammy’s belly as soon as he/she is. Kids are so accepting, this is all he needs to hear and off he goes to bed. Kids are so resilient, there innocence to the big bad world is something to cherish. Keep the problems away and let them just enjoy their childhood.

Oh to be a child again ……………………………………

To be continued

January Blues

Christmas came and went and there was great excitement in our house, the boys were thrilled and totally spoilt as per usual. I didn’t have a drink Christmas day as I had entered the second half of my cycle and didn’t want to take any chances. I usually allow myself to have a night out or a few drinks around the beginning of each cycle to wind down and drown my sorrows. I started the progesterone again this month and they were not agreeing with me. I had heartburn constantly and was living on gaviscon. I couldn’t enjoy food at all and felt nauseous for the whole week. Instead of a night out in the pub Sean and I went to the cinema and then to Kelly’s Steakhouse to for something to eat. It was our first time there since it reopened. The meal was amazing, eyes were way bigger than my belly and I suffered for it afterwards.

I was optimistic this month, naive really to think it would happen as soon as I started the hormones. But my emotions took over. A late Christmas present from Santa. We had a quite night in for New Years and I got my results from my blood test a few days into the New Year. They weren’t good. Oestradiol had gone down slightly from last month and my progesterone levels had plummeted. I was heartbroken. I knew my periods would be coming in the next day or two and I was trying to prepare myself.  A few days later I decided to email my consultant, I was confused and frustrated and needed some guidance.

In the email, I basically said that I wanted more information on how the whole process worked. I could not understand why my Oestradiol had halved since starting the medication and why my body was not reacting to the progesterone. I like to know what exactly is going on in my body and have all the information. The email I received back three days later was not helpful at all. It did not address any of my questions and basically suggested that I look into fertility counselling. I didn’t need counselling, I just needed answers. This upset me more.

I had booked follicle tracking for Day 12 as requested by the clinic and just focused on this for the following days. Day 12 was a Saturday morning. The boys had a birthday party in the local play zone for their cousin’s birthday and I went to get the tracking done. It was my left side that was active and there were two follicle’s 11mm each. This information was forwarded to my consultant in Dublin. I got all my answers from the Doctor that did my follicle tracking, she was very understanding and helpful and although I was upset leaving the clinic I had more information than before. I knew now that the progesterone levels were only being topped up by the medication I was taking. That if I had a result of 33 that this meant I probably only had somewhere in the region of the teens or twenties and the meds just topped it up to 33. Therefore, it indicated I had a poor ovulation or none at all the previous month. Knowledge is key and without it you are doing it blind.

My consultant in Dublin called me first thing on Monday morning and wanted me to go for another scan that day. Said that there were no dominant follicles and another scan would give her more information. At €100 per scan it wasn’t just as easy as of course no problem. I was annoyed and said no that I couldn’t go today and that I had one booked for Saturday. Curiosity got the better of me and I called the local clinic to see if they could fit me in. They squeezed me in for after work. This time it showed that both follicles had grown to just above 15mm. This information was also passed on to the clinic and I received a call the following morning. I was now on Day 15 of my cycle and was not testing positive for an LH surge on my ovulation indicators. I also had no mucus present to indicate ovulation. So frustrating! I couldn’t take the HCG injection without any clear indication of ovulation.

It got to Thursday and there was still no positive result. I called my fertility advisor for some advice. We both agreed that I should bring my Saturday appointment for follicle tracking back to today to see what’s going on. So, off I went again, another €100. This time the scan showed that the follicles had ruptured and that there was fluid in my pelvis. The doctor in the local clinic was happy with the cycle in her opinion but the clinic was not convinced. I suppose the blood tests would give a better picture of what was going on this month. They weren’t good, my progesterone was at 37, no move from last month and my Oestradiol had halved again. It started at 533 and was now at 156. What was going on? I rang the results into the clinic and they agreed to increase my Letrozole from 7 tablets to 10 and also to put be on Femtab which was to increase my oestrogen levels.

The end of the month was coming, January was nearly over. I can honestly say looking back it now I was so depressed for the whole month. I didn’t want to socialise, I barely wanted to get out of bed, I was struggling to hold back the tears most days and honestly questioned what was the point. My birthday was coming up at the beginning of February and as it happened by periods were due that day. Talk about trying to ruin the birthday buzz. I got a phone call from a friend to attend the local football club’s dinner dance. I gave myself a kick in the bum and tried to come out of my slump before my periods arrived. I figured if I didn’t take control not only would it ruin my birthday but it was going to be harder to dig myself out from under the cloud once I got my next periods. I started back at the gym and made plans to get out of the house. I got my nails done and bought a new outfit for the dinner dance. I put on a brave face and got on with it………

To be continued

Food Intolerance Test Results

As part of the fertility treatment the Neo Fertility Clinic suggested a Food Intolerance Test which I had done just over two weeks ago. The consultant took a vile of my blood and sent if off to be analysed. The reason behind this is that some foods can act as fertility blockages for example: wheat and dairy.

Well the results are in; my life is over 😊 Dramatic or what!! I have intolerances towards the following foods:

  • 95 Milk (cow)
  • 52 Potato
  • 51 Milk (Goat)
  • 50 Cashew Nut
  • 47 Corn (Maize)
  • 47 Yeast (Brewer’s)
  • 43 Barley
  • 41 Wheat
  • 40 Egg White
  • 39 Pistachio
  • 28 Oat
  • 28 Peanut
  • 26 Trout
  • 26 Yeast (Baker’s)

The numbers beside each food group indicates the level of intolerance. Borderline foods are between 24 and 29. The higher the number the worse the intolerance is. So now you can see why my life if over – no more chocolate and wine or any alcohol for that matter is out the window.

I know, I know, I know, it’s only a food intolerance test and not an allergy test and I can still eat the foods and suffer later but for the sake of getting healthier and for fertility reasons and I going to do my best to stick to it for now. Maybe introducing foods back in at a later date.

I just rang Sean and he told me he was going to divorce me if I give up chocolate, my boss told me to start working from home, I swear I am not a crazy person without chocolate, but I might get a little cranky!!

The next few days will be spent researching foods I can eat. It mostly eliminates processed foods and carbs. All fruit and Veg are ok, nuts are not a problem as I don’t like them. However, carbs are going to be an issue. This is where I need your help. If you have any suggestions or are in a similar situation please email or pm me with ideas or recipes.

I can’t believe I have an intolerance to potatoes – I’m Irish for goodness sake. Rice it is so – every night. Help!!!!!!!

I will be so skinny in a few weeks. I am going to weigh in this evening, start as I mean to go on. I will post weekly updates of weight loss and hopefully in a few weeks after cutting all this stuff out the results will be amazing – here’s hoping!

I already have lasagne ready for this evening so can’t help that but I have a really healthy lunch with me. Big changes, starting tomorrow……………………………………….

To be continued