Natural Products, Nasal Spray & Needles

The last few weeks have flown and I'm already roughly halfway through my five week protocol (originally six weeks but my stupid period had other ideas). I've been through quite a time of it in the three weeks since my last post, some of it completely unrelated to endometriosis or IVF.

I started taking the contraceptive pill in preparation for treatment, which allows the fertility consultant to have complete control over timings of my cycle. It is also said to help the ovaries respond better to the stimulation medication and to decrease the chances of cysts forming which could delay proceedings. It's common for ladies with endometriosis to have ovarian cysts, so while taking the pill seems counter-intuitive, I can kind of see the logic.

During the two weeks I was on the pill, I took the decision to inform my bosses about my IVF cycle. Initially, I thought I might try and go through the treatment without having to tell anyone at work, but after getting some positive experiences from ladies on a facebook group, I decided to bite the bullet. I have two bosses, one of each sex, so naturally I resolved to approach my manager, who is female. I'm not even sure why I was worried, I've been at the company for 11 years and I'm fortunate that Louise and I have a good relationship. I couldn't have asked for her to be more understanding and supportive and as soon as I'd blurted everything out to her, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders. I can't express what a relief it is to have her backing and she promised she would do everything to help make the next few weeks as painless as she could with regards to time off for appointments. She also said she would talk to our Head of Dept and I knew he would be as equally empathetic.

A couple of weeks ago I had an appointment at the ACU for my trial embryo transfer. Part of me was glad to be having this dummy run, obviously if there were complications I'd rather they were flagged now, but what if it was excruciatingly painful? I'd just be worrying and dreading the real thing the whole way through my treatment. As we all know and get told on a regular basis, stress is not good for the process of baby making. Relax and it'll happen! *rolls eyes*

Again, I had to wait an hour for my appointment at Kingston ACU. I appreciate it's an NHS clinic and they're busy but when you have to go into work afterwards and give an approximate time when you might be there, this is extremely frustrating. Especially as my bosses have been so understanding, I didn't want it to feel like I was already exploiting their kindness. While I was in the waiting room I observed a guy looking very uneasy as he walked out holding a metal box containing his partner's eggs, on his way to King's to (hopefully) add his part to the science. I have to admit, this did make me smile.

The procedure itself was like a more painful smear test, as opposed to the nightmare hysteroscopy I had gotten myself worked up about. Thankfully it was over relatively quickly and without complication so we're good to go.

One way I like to unwind and destress is by having a glass of wine (or three). Following on from my abstention of caffeine, I decided to set a date to forgo my beloved Sauv Blanc before I started my down-regulation drugs. I ringed the 8th November in my diary to start my dry couple of months (hopefully longer). We had tickets to see both Kevin Morby at the Electric Ballroom and Father John Misty at Hammersmith Apollo the week before so we earmarked the latter as our last hurrah! Jon has decided to join me in this period of detox, after all, the health of his swimmers is also vital and we're certainly in this as a partnership. We might as well throw everything at this cycle as we only have one shot at this.

I have also been reading the book 'It Starts with the Egg', which I'm sure every IVF couple must have on their bookshelves. Whilst I think it is unrealistic to cut out everything Rebecca Fett mentions, I've been trying to use more natural products in my already pretty basic beauty regime. I found the Faith In Nature range to be reasonably priced compared to a lot of other organic products. I also wanted a fragrance free shampoo, conditioner and body wash ready for egg collection which they also produce.

Last week, I started sniffing Suprecur (buserelin) nasal spray three times a day. I realise this sounds like I have a solvent abuse problem, but it is in fact the next rung on our IVF ladder, the down-regulation stage. It works by acting on the pituitary gland to stop the production of hormones that control the release of eggs from your ovaries. Buserelin is a GnRH agonist drug (alongside Zoladex, Lupron and Prostap to name a few) and because it suppresses oestrogen production, it is sometimes used to treat endometriosis. I was actually looking forward to this stage, to hopefully give my body a break from the pain and bloating if nothing else.

I have read that lot of women suffer with menopausal side-effects while taking buserelin. Apart from the vile aftertaste it leaves in the back of your throat, I haven't noticed too many grievances so far. I'm only a week in so I guess the night sweats won't be kicking in quite yet. I have, however, been experiencing extremely vivid dreams, every goddamn night. And that my friends is an understatement!

I've had issues with my wisdom teeth for the last twenty years. Four days ago I had my second operculectomy to try and solve the problem of constant infections and pericoronitis. I wasn't particularly worried as I've had the procedure before but this time was a whole new ball game! I was stuck in the chair for a whole hour while the dentist completely butchered my mouth. By the time I'd driven into work, the anaesthetic had worn off and the concoction of ibuprofen and paracetamol weren't touching the pain, I sat there drooling and wincing in agony, desperate to get home for a sympathetic hug.

The dentist has made such a mess of things, I inevitably got an infection and had to go back to the hospital the very next day. I've been on antibiotics and a liquid diet for the last few days, which has meant I've lost quite a lot of weight. The whole ordeal has stressed me out so much, I really wish I had waited until after my IVF cycle to go through with it. Hindsight is a wonderful thing!

On a positive note, I've booked my first acupuncture session next week with a lady called Victoria Busk in Kingston. Hopefully this will counterbalance the trauma of this week and normality will soon be restored.

Better Late Than Never

Cycle Day 1

The one time I actually wanted my period to show up so I can start my first IVF cycle, it goes AWOL. I'm usually a regular 28 days kinda gal so the fact that she was a week late was really out of character and quite frankly, bloody stressful! She finally decided to show her ugly face late yesterday, on a Sunday of all days, so I had to wait until this morning to phone the ACU for further instructions. The nurse said if it had been one day later, we would've had to postpone the round for another month, meaning EC would be pushed back until January. The reason being, I have to fit in two weeks of taking the contraceptive pill to regulate my cycle before starting down regulation drugs on the 13th November, if it's less than two weeks, the protocol won't work. I'm just relieved that we are still able to go ahead and have all the treatment before Christmas.

So what have we been doing since our initial consultation last month? Mission IVF is now in full flow and we have ticked off quite a few items of the agenda already.

We've ordered and picked up the drugs from Boots at Kingston Hospital - Maexeni contraceptive pill, Suprecur (buserelin) nasal sprays, Menopur injection vials (stims) and Cyclogest progesterone pessaries. Seeing all the boxes sitting on my kitchen table has definitely made it all seem very real. We've both had all our blood tests - HIV, Hepatitis B & C and Jon has dropped off yet another sperm sample, making sure to keep it warm during the journey! I actually joked about him falling off his bike on the way to the hospital and spilling his precious cargo all over the road, but it probably wouldn't have been that funny come to think of it. I've also booked in my trial embryo transfer for next week. I just assumed this was commonplace but after speaking to a few women online, it seems that this isn't the case. I'm now worrying whether it'll be painful, given my history with painful smear tests and hysteroscopies.

I've bought myself a beautiful IVF diary from Bearface Prints, as you can gather by now, I like to document things. I wrote a cringeworthy journal every day as a teenager and was mortified when one day my Mum found it under my bed when she was having a good tidy. I later found out that she also keeps a diary so I guess it must run in the family! There's space to record all the medication dates which is extremely useful for me, if I don't write everything down, I'll most certainly forget. There are also pages for you to log how you're feeling at certain times during the process. It came with a lovely personalised note from Natalie the store owner, who has obviously been through IVF herself. The diary has certainly been made with a lot of thought and love.

I have also given up caffeine, which has actually been a lot easier than I anticipated. I swapped the humble English Breakfast bag or BST (Bog Standard Tea as my mother-in-law calls it) for peppermint tea a few years ago due to my stomach issues, but I do love a good coffee, especially first thing in the morning. I would even go as far to say, like many of us these days, I'm a coffee snob. There is one brand of instant that I'm more than happy to drink and luckily it also comes in a decent decaffeinated form...

So there's my tip for anyone struggling to find a nice decaff. Nescafé Azera 'Barista Style' Instant Coffee is going to be my saviour over the next couple of months!

As much as I'd love to sit here and write an entire entry dedicated to coffee, there are more pressing matters presently at the forefront of my mind. As I mentioned at the start of the post, today is (finally) cycle day 1, which means the start my IVF protocol. Wish us luck!

First IVF Consultation

Tuesday 26th September 2017
Kingston ACU
Kingston Hospital, London

I was excited but a little nervous while we were waiting for our first IVF consultation at the same hospital I'd been treated at a number of times this year already. The clinic was running late and we had a long wait before we were called into the appointment, which didn't help the with the feeling of imbalance. I couldn't help but look at the other couples in the waiting room, I suddenly wanted to know all their stories. As you can imagine, the demographic was fairly predictable - couples in their late 30's to early 40's.

During the consultation with the Senior Fertility Specialist, Miss Despina Mavridou, we had a baseline scan, which is an internal ultrasound to determine my antral follicle count (AFC). The scan showed a very small number of follicles, two on each ovary to be precise, and my left ovary was tucked high up behind my uterus with little mobility. She discussed that it could potentially be difficult to access at egg collection. I started to feel like we were already fighting a losing battle and we hadn't even started the treatment yet - endometriosis has a lot to answer for! Due to the low AFC and previous blood test results detecting low AMH and elevated FSH levels (a good indication of a woman's ovarian reserve), they decided to put me on the very maximum dose of stimulation drugs. We then went through a number of things in detail, including the reasons treatment might fail, operative risks, side effects and the predicted percentage of success (20%), which I thought was quite high, all things considered.

I'd already started to feel very overwhelmed with information to process but this was nothing compared to how I felt after the second part of our appointment. After a further short wait we were ushered into another room to see lovely nurse Laura MacGreggor to go through a phone book worth of HFEA consent forms that we had to sign and date. This was in fact a contract between the two of us and the clinic outlining all kinds of morbid but necessary scenarios such as:

Do you consent to embryos created before your death being transferred to your partner after your death, and to being registered as the legal parent of any child born from your partner’s treatment after your death (ie, posthumous birth registration)?

We then went through our IVF protocol, highlighting key dates over the next three months. I was frantically trying to scribble everything down as I was so concerned I might mess things up if I had forgotten a vital piece of information (my short-term memory is non-existent). Key things I managed to scrawl on the back of the appointment letter were:

• Order the IVF medication from Boots
• Have blood tests (HIV, Hepatitis B & C)
• Jon to provide (yet another) sperm sample
• Ring clinic to book a trial embryo transfer (due to previous womb history)
• Start taking a birth control pill (they know I'm trying to get preggers right?)
• Start sniffing another drug to turn off my ovaries (see above)
• Phone in to book 1st scan (down regulation)
• Start injecting stimulation drugs
• Egg collection under sedation (preferably knocked out)

Laura then explained that the real embryo transfer would be at a different site at King's College Hospital in Denmark Hill. This means that within minutes of my egg collection, Jon will be handed a medical transportation box (fridge) containing my lovely eggs and he'll have to hotfoot it over to King's on the train where he'll then do his his part of the bargain. The following day, we'll hopefully get a call telling us the magic has happened and we have some beautiful little embryos in a petri dish.

Holy moly.


Guy's Hospital, London

As if my mind wasn't frazzled enough after our consultation, I decided to go to my first ever Endometriosis UK support meeting that evening at Guy's Hospital. I'd joined the London facebook group a few months previous and I'd already gained a lot of information but I wanted to meet ladies in the same position I now found myself in. Jon came with me for moral support as I was feeling very anxious about the session. I'm naturally very shy, especially in situations where I'd be meeting someone for the first time, so this was completely out of my comfort zone. Not one new person, but a whole room of new ladies all with one shared condition.

It turns out I had more than one thing in common with a couple of the ladies there that evening and towards the end of the discussion, a question about infertility and IVF was presented. At the end of the evening I got talking to Tijen and Kelda, both of whom were about to start the IVF process, we swapped email addresses to keep in contact over the next few months. I was aware I was talking really intensely as I blurted out my story to them, I'd had so much information to process that day, I was feeling extremely vulnerable and overwhelmed. On the way home, I had a chance to contemplate everything and I felt happy I had two people I could now talk to.

Back(side) Story

24 years ago at the age of 13, I started a challenging and complicated relationship with puberty. The enemy? My menarche, Aunt Flo.

I soon became well acquainted with my monthly cycles, and as much as I tried, they were certainly something I couldn't ignore. I was terribly anaemic, my periods became heavier and more painful and I was soon taking a day off school most months, paralysed with sickness, curled and cramped up in bed with a hot water bottle. The shooting pains down my legs were just another factor to add to my suffering. I found the thought of having to go through this torture every four weeks for the next 40 years quite harrowing. Mum discouraged me from taking time away from education, but some days were so unbearable, I just couldn't face the trauma of having to deal with dysmenorrhoea at school. Mum was even convinced I had appendicitis until the pain was apparently cyclical. This abhorrent monthly gift was making me extremely miserable and affecting my quality of life but I just assumed this was a completely normal. I was a girl and I was stuck with it.

I've had many traumatic menstrual experiences over the years but a couple in particular will be rooted in my memory forever. The first was on holiday, our first family trip abroad to France in the summer of 1994. I wasn't feeling well but my parents convinced me to join them and my brother on the beach. I spent an hour in a foetal position in the shade but the cramps and the sweltering heat combined made it unbearable. Dad helped me to the car but I remember passing out with the pain on the beach before we got there. Back at the tent, I spent the rest of the day on a flimsy, foam mattress bed and distracted myself from the discomfort by tuning in to TMS on Radio 4 (we won the third test at The Oval to draw the series against South Africa). The avuncular voice of Aggers undoubtedly helped me through that day! There was a further incident on holiday a couple of years later where again my Dad (my hero) got up and escorted me to the toilet block in the early hours of the morning when I was doubled over with stomach cramps. After the pain had eased, we sat up watching the sunrise over the fields, both convinced we saw a black panther in the distance. I think he was probably humouring me though.

Another occasion, while I was in the first year at sixth form, I was due to sit a French Oral exam and Aunt Flo had decided to make an early appearance. Horrified, I had no choice but to put up with the pain and go through with the exam. I made sure I was prepared just before I went in but half way through (it was only half an hour), I realised The Great Flood Had Cometh. Never again would I wear light coloured jeans.

Shortly after that, Mum took me to the doctors and I was prescribed Microgynon® - a brand of contraceptive combined pill. It meant my periods were more regular, less heavy and most importantly, less painful. It was such a relief to finally find a way of managing my monthly nemesis.

The years went by, I graduated from university, worked a ski season in Les Deux Alpes, France (where I met my husband Jon) and moved to London. During this time, I had several abnormal smear tests and I was referred for a colposcopy and cone biopsy. This referral just happened to come half way through my stint as a seasonaire en France and my doctor advised it was best to have the procedure sooner rather than later. I'd survived most things thrown my way throughout those four months - even the gastroenteritis pandemic which swept through the whole resort and beyond - but I found myself in a hospital in Grenoble with a gynecologist who didn't speak a word of English. It was a pretty petrifying experience. Fortunately for me, my hotel manager who speaks fluent French, accompanied me to the hospital. Unfortunately for her, she had to listen to the whole thing from the other side of the curtain, squeals and all (thank you Caroline).

After the ski season, we moved to London and it was around this time I started to notice I was suffering more and more with bloating, pelvic and rectal cramps, constipation and other gruesomeness (I won't elaborate at this point). These symptoms were a great deal worse just before and during my period. To cut a long story short (the long version will be in the next post), I tried various different diets and finally got diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome - the collective condition doctors seem to bestow when they don't really know how else to diagnose it. I wasn't convinced but I lived with it.

At the age of 33, in September 2013, I chose to come off the pill after 17 years of continuous use. Jon and I decided that we would now just wait and see what nature would throw at us. Neither of us were desperate to have children right at that moment (we'd already been married for six years), but we had stopped using contraception for a reason - to get pregnant. I'd always suffered with jealousy when friends announced their joyous news, even when I was in my twenties and it was the last thing on my mind. I had these confusing, deep-rooted feelings that I was being left behind, I guess very similar to FOMO. Seeing our friends and the wonderful relationships they had with their children certainly made me think about being a mother a lot; I didn't want to get to 45 and regret the decision if we had decided not to become parents. I guess I just took it for granted that it would happen one day, as most people do.

Three and a half years later, it turns out Mother Nature isn't that great at throwing, not in our direction anyway.

October 2016, Queen Mary's Hospital, Roehampton. I get my referral for a laparoscopy with suspected endometriosis. Endo what?!