My Rainbow Baby

Well my lovely bloglets,

I’ve been sitting on this post for a while. Not that I’ve actually written it. Well I have in my head, numerous times, but haven’t sat down to type until now. And I’m not sure why. It’s such amazing and wonderful news. But part of it also wants to keep it for me. Because it’s been so longed for. For such a long time. And now it’s my reality. And it’s amazing. But it’s also surreal. 

My rainbow baby. Because my fertility is fucked according to the hospital. Well. Compromised is the nice way of saying it. With a very low egg count. 14 and a half years of chemo has definitely made its mark. But that didn’t matter. I have 22 year old eggs frozen and I was getting my body ready for IVF regardless. And who knew that ALL those hundreds of pounds spent on functional medicine tests and supplements with a couple of tweaks to my diet meant that IVF wouldn’t be needed. 

And then there was the agonising 8 and a bit week wait for my first scan after having a positive pregnancy test to check that all was ok. And that there was a baby in there! I did think just before the sonographer put the gel on my abdomen. What if this is the most epic phantom pregnancy ever?!?!? But no. A baby appeared. Doing what it should be doing with development and growth on track. A huge sigh of relief. And now a much shorter wait to the next scan and the ‘half way point’ (because due dates are a load of bollocks). 

So no need for IVF. No need for the Hopeful Baby Diary - I’ve deleted the Instagram and that blog will be going soon as well. 

I don’t think it’s coming across. I’m beyond excited about this! I actually loving all the body changes, and completely in awe as to what’s going on. Which is good as I started showing around week 6. And yes. Granny did comment in how fat I was getting.

 C. L. A. S. S. I. C. 

I was also very good earlier in the week and didn’t cry when a pair of size 10 maternity jeans didn’t fit. I also didn’t completely freak out, although my blood pressure shot up, lolz, when I put on 5 kilos in the first 10 weeks. And yes. Yes I did genuinely wonder if it was twins. But I couldn’t give a flying fuck. I was told this couldn’t happen. I was going to be doing this on my own. And I did it and I’m not. I also don’t think I’ll be allowed another year off treatment so this is it. My, well, our baby. The little determined miracle who really wanted to be. God. If they are this determined already, I dread to think what’s in store!

I’m not going to go crazy with sharing everything about this. I now have others to think about and how much I want to share about them, especially when they can’t speak for themselves yet. I will update on my haematology stuff though. So far all good! Leukaemic rate hasn’t budged after 2 months off treatment which is also pretty epic. Let’s just send all the good thoughts it stays like that!

So until next time... I’m not sure I need to sign off with love and hope anymore. Because for once. Things are actually pretty perfect. 

XxX

More Processing and a Plan

Well I was going to write yesterday but my tube journey instead of being a long one ended up being broken up into two and when I write I like to do it in one hit as things change and breaking the writing impacts on the post. I like to be in the zone continuously even if it’s just to ramble shite that no one really cares about. But it’s important for me. To process. To get it out of my head. To stop it circulating. Anyways. 

So yesterday I was going to write about my recent appointment which I have also put in my Hopeful Baby Diary blog so maybe I’ll just stick the link in and keep this more about how I really am rather than the slightly tempered version I put in that because of clients reading it etc. https://thehopefulbabydiary.wordpress.com/2021/03/20/funding-clarification-and-obstetrics-referral/

In summary if you can’t be fucked to read the link it is that the consultant I saw helped me get a plan in place. Funding appeal is going in. It might take months. It might still be a no. So whilst I decide what to do in terms of waiting or just sticking it on my credit cards, is to pick the sperm donor as I have to pay for that regardless and get it to The Hammersmith. Well. Actually The Queen Charlotte’s. But anyways. They sit on the same site. And I just call it The Hammersmith as that’s where my Haematology care is. And now I’m questioning if the fertility clinic is actually The Hammersmith. Anyways. Completely irrelevant. So buy the sperm and then it’s there with my eggs. I’ve been referred to the obstetrics team to discuss my treatment plan. And ‘the impact of the disease on pregnancy and the child’ and other fun things. 

It’s when I read things like that it really brings home how serious CML actually is untreated and the pre the oral chemos it really was a killer. Not that I’m concerned about coming off treatment. If my haematology consultant thought I was in any danger no fucking way would this happen. It’s why it’s taken 14 fucking years to get here. So anyways. Really looking forward to that conversation!

This past week has been really fucking hard. I’m not going to lie. It’s so much better today. As I lost my bubble 10 days ago, haven’t been in my sister's child care bubble since the first week of January, and I had a negative Rona test yesterday morning I saw my brother, sister in law and niece yesterday and had a hug. For the first time in 12 days from a human. Last dog cuddle with ‘my dog’ was 8 days ago. And it has made such a difference. I can’t imagine how it’s been for others who live on their own who haven’t had access to anyone for a hug. I’m so tactile and to not have that whilst dealing with all this fertility fuckery with funding and all the dog owner shit which all came to a head 10 days ago has been pretty horrific. 

So basically I feel like I’ve turned a bit of a corner in the last 24 hours. Yesterday morning I had one of my (legally allowed) home visits and the talk therapist who is part of the care team asked me if I was ok because of how my eyes looked. (The rest of my face was covered by a mask) And he could see how sad I was and the impact of the burden I’m carrying. 

I’m also tired. My energy levels are shot to shit. 2 and a half years of the trial drug and I’ve hit that sweet point of my body saying. No. Fuck this. I’ve had enough. 

God this is a real ramble today. 

Should I set up a just giving page? Quite a few people have asked and said they would donate. I just. I don’t know. Whilst this isn’t my choice it’s also my choice. I don’t know what to do. 

I’m allowing myself another week off fertility stuff. To get my head back to where it was. When I was excited. When it wasn’t all another fucking car crash. Oh and I’ve requested my notes so I can complain to the general medical council about IVF consultant number one. Just to see exactly what they did/didn’t do. I might be nice and smiley but you don’t fuck with me. I will retaliate. 

So in a nutshell. Today is better. I saw some of my family. And my brother who is my nearly twin. Ish. 13 months younger than me. I’m not great when I don’t see him. And now I’ve gone into complete babble mode. Enough. 

As always. With hope. 

XxX

Another set back

 Well my lovely boglets,

For those of you who follow my IVF-specific blog (www.thehopefulbabydiary.wordpress.com) you will already know this, but I wanted to write on here too.  Although if you can believe it, I'm even more pissed off today than I was when I wrote last night on my other blog.

There's been another bump in the road.  Another hurdle to get over. Another battle to fight. And I'm so fucked off and fed up of it all.

Basically, my fertility funding has been denied because they haven't stated it as an issue with my fertility, because I'm not technically infertile or have a condition like PCOS etc even though I'm doing this because I live with a fucking chronic cancer and only get a year off treatment and it's taken 14 fucking years to get to a point where I can do this.

And the fucking IVF consultant who I saw in the summer who told me he was sure it would be covered didn't actually fucking check or apply for funding like he should have done, so I found this out yesterday.  When I should have known last fucking August.  So I'm lodging a formal complaint against him because once again he didn't do his job.  When I had my eggs frozen under his 'care' 14 years ago he also didn't apply for funding and just put me through as a private patient.  So I'm absolutely LIVID with him about this.  I wish I had recorded that conversation.  And I am SO tempted to name him but I won't.  But I want the GMC to know because he's now at a new hospital so complaining to mine will do sweet fuck all.

ARGHHHHHH.  It would be SO nice if something went my way for a change.  

So I'm feeling very sorry for myself today.  And had an argument with the dogs owner so he can fuck off too.  And I suspect he might read this or my hopeful baby diary blog.  So enjoy reading this is if you are.

Doing this on my own is so much fun.  I know children are expensive but I really hoped I would be going into it without loading up my credit cards and owing around £8,000 if I'm lucky and it's only one round.

It's times like this that I really wish my life was the parallel life that I should have got. That wasn't fucked over by a chronic cancer diagnosis. That meant I did all that I was going to. I met someone in my 20s who wasn't put off by my health and all it entails and not drinking because none of that happened or existed.  That I didn't meet someone so perfect but it could never be because of life stuff and then I met the dogs' owner and thought that finally I might get the happiness that I deserve. Maybe, maybe it's the dogs owner I should be with.  Who doesn't care about my cancer. Who likes the fact that I don't drink. That we share so much in common. That we work together as a couple.  But no.  A big fat solid fucking resounding no.  Because I am destined to be alone and unloved because in so many ways my life is completely and utterly fucked. Because of a non-lifestyle-related genetic mutation that my body couldn't deal with.

I am so fucking tempted to start drinking again.

So yet more FUN TIMES in this life of mine. Not that it's much of a life to be honest.  It's really shit actually.  And I want to bring a child into it. Picking the father from a list on a website.

God I'm so bored of myself and this self-pity. Right. I'm off.  And if you have gotten this far, well done you.  You deserve a reward.