stormy weather

Thank you so much to those who commented on my last post, wishing me luck and giving me encouragement. I am a lot calmer now, thanks in no small part to those good wishes.

But it has been quite a week since that last post. I was recommended an online pharmacy by a friend who has already used them for IVF drugs. They are £700 cheaper than our clinic, and throw in extra needles, swabs, plasters and a sharps bin in for free. But a national postal strike meant that we had to have the prescription sent by courier and somehow, that small extra step threw poor Significant Other into a bit of a tailspin.

Suddenly it was of the utmost importance that he book himself into several work meetings and conferences that would take him out of London, the first starting on what looks likely to be the first day of injections and one, rather more worryingly, taking him to the other end of the country on what may potentially be retrieval day. I took a deep breath and agreed that of course he should go to all of the meetings, including the one that would keep him away for a week around and after potential transfer day BUT it was pretty important that he was in London for the day of collection. I think that my calm response calmed him a little, as he admitted that none of the meetings were mandatory and so of course he will wait until we know for sure before he books himself into the one which we think will fall on collection day.

Peace reigned for a day or so and then another wave of panic washed over him, this time about what would we do if I got pregnant and we lost the baby again. I wasn't able to answer this one any better than to say cope the best we can. That's the only thing to do, isn't it? It's what we've been doing after Starchild and Bean died, some days better than others, but coping nonetheless.

But the waves of panic kept rolling and this time washed him - and so me - on the shores of "and what if the IVF fails?" But this question Significant Other sort of answered himself (though I hope against hope that he didn't mean what it seems like he meant). He wants children so desperately. And he can have them, the problem here is mine and not his. He has super swimmers - billions of them, apparently, and all of Olympic gold standard. And he said that he wasn't sure if he could envision a life without children and for him, adopting is not an option.

So...

So...? I don't know. I don't know what is going to happen, and I can't really think about it right now or it all gets too overwhelming.

All I can do is to break everything down into bite-sized chunks and the mouthful for today is waiting in for the courier company to deliver the drugs.