Friday, 26 October 2012

Today

My laparoscopy to check my right ovary was on this day a year ago. This was when they told me that the cells had spread and that I would have to have my remaining ovary removed.
This time last year I thought I wouldn't have children.
Today, I am +1 day over my due date and can't help feeling that she will come today.

So much is about to change.

From today, I will be with Carl always. No more goodnights over FaceTime, no more 'Morning.. I am awake' texts, no more struggling on our own.

We will become a team - how a husband and wife should be as we start our next chapter together and raise our little family.

I can't believe how fast 12 months have passed by, but finally, we are on the edge of what we have wanted for so long.

Tuesday, 16 October 2012

Birthday wishes

Ever since I was little, I always said that my ideal age to have children would be 33. I don't know where this came from, whether it was a random age I picked from the clouds or whether something influenced me at a young age. But I always had an idea that by the age of 33, I would like to be married and that children would come during my thirty-third year.

Today is my birthday and today I turn 33.

In the last year, I have got married and in (hopefully) 10 days time, our little miracle will have arrived and I will become a mother.

Now I don't know whether my life is following some kind of plan, I don't really believe in destinies or fate. But I do know that things can happen quickly when it is absolutely right, when we accept and are open to ourselves and others, life has a way of rewarding us.

I remember saying to mum each birthday as I approached today's age and whilst single, that it is and would be possible to meet someone, marry them and have a baby all within a year - as long as it was right. And this is what has happened, OK it has been a little longer than a year but still, it goes to show, when it is right and you know - life is on your side and good things happen.



Saturday, 13 October 2012

Autumn Reflections

Sometimes it feels like I have already gone.
Like the summer that flew by without a hint of what used to be.
No warmth is left just lazy sunshine clinging to the last hours.
I feel avoided.
Like the clocks changing, I am the bearer of long periods of darkness that nobody likes to talk about.
The white elephant in the corner of the room.
As leaves turn and eventually fall, leaving landscapes vulnerable and empty.
I wonder how my new surroundings will welcome me or whether I will be left in the whiteness of winter.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thursday, 7 June 2012

365 Days

This time last year, it was the eve of my operation.
I was scared and anxious of the unknown.
I can't remember if I slept well, probably not.
This time last year my thoughts were on whether I had cancer and whether I would ever be able to have children.
I thought, probably not.

Tomorrow I will be back at the hospital where it all began.
A year of appointments, procedures... tears
Tomorrow we get to see our tiny miracle, 20 weeks old.
The 8th June will always be a day I remember
And a reminder to never give up
That everything always comes right in the end.

Thursday, 26 April 2012

My Story



I had wanted to move away from blogging about my life and back to some creative writing but so much has happened in the last few month I thought I would share some more.... and it does make a good story!

I have been quite open about my various operations and heath problems over the last year. It was last April (practically to the day) that the journey of endless hospital visits, tests and scans started, then the operations, more scans and tests and finally the fertility treatment this January so that in a few years time, we could have children despite me having both my ovaries removed. 

The treatment finished at the end of January and soon after I had my next operation date - the 29th February to have my left ovary and various bits removed. I was nervous and anxious the night before; there wasn't much that Carl could to do reassure and comfort me. My stomach cramping with IBS (or so I thought at the time) and on the morning of the operation, a migraine erupted.

Carl couldn't stay with me because of it being a women only hospital, so I was shown to a bed given a cocktail of strong painkillers for the migraine and told to wait. I slept a bit, cried a bit and just waited whilst at least 8 women were wheeled off the ward and take into theatre. 

My nurse Evie was ditsy. Lovely, but all over the place. She kept forgetting what she was doing with me and I waved my little pot of urine a few times to remind her that she hadn't taken it to wherever it needed to go. At 12.30pm, she went off for lunch - she said goodbye and good luck and again I pointed out that my pee pot was still on the window.

Almost an hour later, an anaesthetist nurse came to get me to take me to theatre. I answered the same questions I have been answering all morning… name, date of birth. She asked if I had provided a sample because the relevant box hadn't been ticked, I told her that Evie had taken it to which she replied that we would find out the result on the way round to theatre.

So off I go on my bed, deep breaths and thinking I CAN do this again; I get wheeled in the to white room where they send you off into lovely sleeps. The nurse (who I remember from my laparoscopy) asked lots of questions about what I do… I know she sees hundreds of people a month so of course she can't remember me, but I couldn't help be impatient that I had told her all this before.

A man came in and introduced himself and the medical student he is with. He started getting the cannula into my hand whilst the nurse hooks me up to the sticky pads for monitoring.  Two more people came into the room and the anaesthetist explains about me having a spinal as well as general.

Then Evie appeared...

Everyone shuffled whilst they were talking behind me and Evie asked if I can do another urine sample. I told her I have just been, they all asked me to try and suggested that they stand outside the room whilst I pee into one of the card sick bowls. I explained that I can't and then the anaesthetist asked when my last period was. I told them it was the end of January and that I knew I was late but i was putting it down to the hormones I was pumped with during January and that my cycle has probably been affected.

Everyone was smiling and saying what good news. No one said, "Jo, you are pregnant" They just beamed with smiles and say what wonderful news. Mr Metcalf, my consultant came through from the theatre room and told me that I like to complicate things and that he won't be performing the operation… All I could say was that I was getting married in September and how was I meant to fit into my dress! They told me I went pale… and then flushed as I was wheeled back to the ward so I could go for another wee to confirm and to wait for a slot up in early pregnancy for a scan and blood test.

My second wee confirmed everything and I was left on the ward on my own with 'OH MY GOD' going over and over in my head. I called Carl and told him they had cancelled my operation and the reason why… more "OH MY GODs' and asked him to come back asap. I called mum and told her, she cried and screamed down the phone and says she has made a cake.

I had pretty much accepted that I may not be able to have children after all my 'problems'. Yes, we had 'back-up' with the frozen ones but with a 30% success rate of IVF, I wasn't getting my hopes up. I think back to the ultrasound I had in September where the women told me I would never fall pregnant with my uterus the way it was and all the things that went against us and thinking that we would ever be able to have children. 

I guess when you stop and accept things as they are - little miracles can happen.

So that is my story….

Oh and to ensure I fit in my wedding dress, a bigger size was ordered and the date moved to the end of June.  So marriage, baby and moving all in one year - 2012 is certainly going to be interesting!

Monday, 9 April 2012

Remembering

Smells can transport you
back to a place
or time of yesterday
a facewash soap took me
back to hospital
the smells of cleanliness
and routine
green fairy liquid made me smile
as the memories of summer
in Nanny's garden washing dolly's hair
So many memories forgotten
until the scent of past overwhelms

Monday, 5 March 2012

A different journey

If you believe, You will get to the end destination no matter what, even if it is on a different route.

This was said to me this morning as I travelled across country on numerous trains instead of the two I was due to be on.

Life can be so strange at times. We all have ideas and plans in our heads as to how things are meant to be or how they are meant to turn out. Sometimes we are told that somethings are just not for us and no matter how hard we try, the result is always the same. We can fight against it, complain that life isn't fair but all it does is take vital energy that could be used to focus on something else - something more positive and rewarding. However, every now and then, when we accept things as they are and stop trying to achieve a certain state of mind or to gain something, a miracle can happen.

It may not be as we expected it, or as we planned but it is there in arms reach and ready for the taking. This is when we count ourselves very lucky and whilst we never gave up hope, the key to fulfilment and making our dreams come true is acceptance.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thursday, 23 February 2012

The Assessed

A few forms
The same questions
Address. Postcode. Date of birth.
A leaflet to read, a booklet, the instructions
Height, weight
Give us your blood
Wash in this. Make sure you drink these, don't forget those
Last time this was all novelty
The unknown
I was The Unprepared. How could I be?
This time I have memories.
I know the truth and the 'real pain'
Icy hands and long goodbyes
A deep sleep
This time I know
Today it has hit me
This time I am scared


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, 29 January 2012

Flossy

I cried when you were born
I had never cried happy tears
never understood
but when I saw you, happiness took over
You were perfect.

As you grew and your personality revealed
the little girl with the curls
with princess tantrums
all sugar and spice
You became Flossy

Growing up was so much fun
shopping, concerts, sleep-overs and treats
being stuck in the rain and wearing my clothes
Stories, games and secrets
You were my sunshine

A performer at school
You tried everything once
So many concerts and shows
your confidence beaming
You made me so proud

Into teens and so we grow
so many changes, life is unfair
a cycle repeats
and I am always there to hold your hand
You are so strong

And now an adult
Beautiful in every way
confident and and caring
we are as close as they come
You are my sister - and I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy 18th Birthday Flossy xx

Monday, 2 January 2012

Day One

Today was day one of my IVF treatment and a few things are hitting home. Firstly, what a lot of responsibility this is for someone to take on. Not only is there the injections full of hormones to stimulate the ovaries in order to produce more eggs, but there are the side effects to prepare for.
I feel that I am going to need a sign around my neck for the next few weeks stating: 'Hormonal Nightmare.. handle with care'. I haven't read too much about the side effects - part of me wants to join forums but then I am sure I will convince myself that I have every side effect going, I figure it is best to not know and to ride with it.

Whilst sat in the consultation room, after my scan and the news that I can start, I held the needle in my hand, pinched a good bit of fat on my tummy (which I have been building over Christmas... great excuse to eat more!) and then said 'I don't think I can do it', for a good few moments, I looked at Carl and the nurse and then back to the sharp scary needle and really thought that I couldn't do it but with some encouragement from Carl and praise from the nurse, I slowly stuck the needle into my tummy, clicked the button and gave myself my first injection.

I felt proud of myself and confirmed that I can do this - there isn't really an option of not doing it. It is my only chance. I have no idea what the next few weeks hold and being without Carl is going to make it even more difficult. I am pretty sure there will be plenty of tears; I am an emotional person at the best of times so fill me with hormones and goodness only knows.
I just hope I don't grow a beard and turn into a dragon.