On Friday we went back to the IVF doctor for the final blood tests. I'd already been to get checked for gonorrhea and syphillis (despite an interesting university experience, I am pleased to say I am negative. All I have is a Weepy Eye and a cured case of Hand Herpes, neither of which disqualifies me from the fun-filled life of being a human pin cushion, it just means I need to lighten the fuck up.)

Last Friday's test were really the final pit stop before the whole thing could proceed. Angus needed a series of tests (HIV, hepatitis B and C) and I had two more final blood tests to add to my already exhaustive list of bloodwork I've had done-one of which is a very expensive chromosome typing that is done for women who donate their eggs. The tests take a while to get the results back and come in at over £1000, but since I am donating half of my eggs, the cost is free (there's a joke in there about counting babies before the egg hatches, only it's lost on me right now. Must have more coffee.)

Angus' tests have come back, and he has a spectacular group of swimmers. As a man it must suck to have to have stats on your boys read out. The form not only counts them, but includes the amount of "abnormal ones" (before you freak out boys, know this-all men have abnormally shaped swimmers. All of you! Now uncross your legs as I tell you the really interesting part-men can have up to 85% abnormal swimmers and still be considered a normal candidate! More beer, anyone?) Without going into detail, I can say that Angus' stats are exceptional and show that after washing out the unmotivated sperm who would rather channel surf on the sofa than get their hard hat out and head for Baby-Land (a normal process in IVF and yes, all of you men have some of those sperm as well) he has lots remaining and they mean business. Even after 24 hours, they are still chugging back their Gatorade and determinedly swimming upstream.

Superman Sperm if I ever heard of them.

When I was getting the Hello My Name Isn't STD tests last week, I had gone in alone. I waited and waited in the waiting room, my appointment getting later and later as the nurses were all occupied in another room by something. I was beginning to get pretty annoyed when the object of the nurses' attention came out-a woman about my age, with short brown hair. Her face was bright red and puffy, and a nurse held on to her shoulders as she continued to choke out sobs.

It has always been clear to me that an IVF unit is the place where dreams are made or broken, only I had never seen anyone else go through the broken bit before. While there were Kodak moments of dreams succeeding lining the walls, for every newborn set of eyes there were at least two women who wept bitter tears when their periods started. I remember sitting under a running shower and sobbing. No one saw my dreams bite the dust.

Sitting in that uncomfortable naughahyde chair, I saw hers.

And I was thus very patient as I continued to wait for my turn with the business end of a needle.

So Angus and I go to wait in the waiting room, and there amongst the two year old mound of Hello! magazines is a pregnant woman. She has one hand protectively wrapped around her stomach and she is laughing and talking with another woman waiting in the waiting room, a woman who bites her lip from time to time and looks with uncomfortable longing at the pregnant woman's stomach. She has the look of someone that has been in a lot of over-loaded Hello!-magazine waiting rooms and can rattle off the women Colin Farrell has been seen with, a distraction to a distracted mind.

Un-Pregnant Woman tells Pregnant Woman about a nice party they were at this weekend, in which she drank too much.

"I haven't had a drink in ages!" laughs Pregnant Woman. "You're so lucky! I would do anything to have a drink right now!"

Really? I want to shout. Seriously, would you? Because you're in a waiting room for woman for women that would gladly give up the bottle for as long as it takes to get where you are. You're in this room for what purpose, exactly? Your work on this ward is done. Go to the ob-gyn like a good girl now, would you, and leave the infertility to the rest of us.

Up-Pregnant Woman then talks about her treatment with Pregnant Woman. Pregnant Woman nods sympathetically. "I know, it's so hard. I remember all of that."

Do you? Then maybe you remember how you'd feel if a pregnant woman was sat in the middle of the waiting room with the rest of the Pathetically Un-Pregnants. It's bad enough the walls in this place are lined with pictures of newborn babies. How about you go wait in that other waiting room and leave the rest of us to our hopeful dreams, eh?

Life as an Un-Pregnant continues. I am on folic acid and pregnancy vitamins now as they say it's very helpful with IVF cases. Something about nuchal cords, or some other term that is uncomfortably like the word "belly button", and I never say the word "belly button" as I find that word to be the height of embarassing. Naturally the cover box of the pregnancy vitamins shows a happily pregnant woman dreamily rubbing her stomach, a mist of happy hazy mommy dreams. I keep the box face down in our junk drawer in the kitchen. Karma and all that.

We've decided to wait to start the process until after the New Year-not only would we not be able to start it before the holidays at this point (who knew chromosome typing took so long to kick off?) but reminders of losing Egg and Bacon in a hardware store toilet the day after New Years' has put me off of ever trying for a baby in the holiday time again.

I can just picture it.

Phwee! go those obnoxious New Years' noisemakers. Phwee! Rockets explode outside and people tipple their champagne glasses at each other. Angus kisses me and then looks down at the emerging puddle between my feet. "Umm...darling?" he asks, eyebrows raised. "You're bleeding."

"Oh damn it all to hell." I'll reply, reaching for the champagne bottle as it wouldn't matter anymore if I'm not drinking. "Miscarrying again at the New Year."

Or at Christmastime-I sit on Santa's lap with a cheeky grin.

"Have you been a good girl this year?" Santa asks.

"Define the elvish version of the word 'good' and I'll let you know, Nick." I reply. I can't recall the last time I was a good girl. At least I am wearing my most modest knickers, I suppose that helps.

"And what do you want for Christmas, young lady?" he'll ask.

"I want a lifetime supply of Sephora products, a puppy, and an end to fox hunting. I'd ask for world peace, too, but the Miss America pageant has really ruined it for all of us. Oh! And I want to have a baby, too."

Santa smiles and pats my head. "I'll see what I can do about those, only that sudden rush of hot liquid on my lap tells me that your baby dreams for Christmas are over. How about a lollipop instead?"

Yeah. So no baby attempts until the new year. We're looking at probably kicking it off in March-you can't fly long distance while going through the process and we'd already planned a long haul holiday with his kids in February. The baby dreams will wait for now, and in the meantime a machine somewhere whirrs a vial of my blood around to see what my chromosomes say about me. A computer is quietly clicking in the background, matching me with another prospective mommy-to-be. There's a collection of slender needles, just waiting to have my name on them.

We will see.

We will see.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 11:17 AM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
Post contains 1404 words, total size 8 kb.

1 Funny, happy, sad, serious and poignant - all in the same post. You never cease to amaze me, Helen. I love the line about the sperm in hard hats - very funny. I wish with all my heart that in the spring, your dreams will come true and the dream will stay in place until it is born.

Posted by: kenju at October 03, 2005 01:19 PM (+AT7Y)

2 Really...you are amazing. I believe your entries about fertility would not only make a fantastic book for anyone, but mothers struggling to have a baby would find your words comforting and encouraging. You may get frightened or frustrated, but you sure are strong. It seems you blog for yourself, but others could benefit from your wisdom, too... Plus, wouldn't it be nice to quit your job once your book becomes a best seller! All the best, Serena

Posted by: Serena at October 03, 2005 01:58 PM (C1IIN)

3 How you didn't smack the smug, preggers woman i will never know. Good luck in your quest.

Posted by: Steph at October 03, 2005 02:05 PM (4mFH7)

4 Spring is a time of renewal, and I am hoping a new chapter in your life will begin as well. I am so sorry about the inconsiderate pregnant women. Simply put, some people just don't have any class. Sometimes life seems so unfair, but I do believe that patience and determination are rewarded. That you are so aware of the whole process-what it does mentally and physically to a woman, I can't help but believe that writing about your experience and feelings helps so many women know they are not alone in their dreams. It also leaves me speechless that you are also helping another woman to realize her baby dreams as well. Talk about karma and all that. You are amazing-best of luck to you.

Posted by: Teresa at October 03, 2005 02:26 PM (zf0DB)

5 What a great post Helen. Spring sounds like a wonderful time! That could give you a late fall/early winter baby. Sagittarius people are just wonderful, um not that I am prejudice or anything lol.

Posted by: justme at October 03, 2005 03:24 PM (RPyFS)

6 Some of us aren't smug. Some of us would have a baby FOR you, my love. I hope you know that. No, I KNOW you know that. (I'd have smacked her myself.) P.S. This made me choke on my tea: "Even after 24 hours, they are still chugging back their Gatorade and determinedly swimming upstream." WOTTA visual! LOL) All my love,

Posted by: Margi at October 03, 2005 03:46 PM (nwEQH)

7 Good luck. You may want to consider that the pregnant woman was just trying to find some area of commonality and point out an advantage that a non-pregnant woman has. I agree, saying that anyone is "lucky" is condescending in the extreme. But weren't you thinking how lucky she was? I only say this from my perspective of carrying a child that they told me would most likely die within days of being born. While I carried him, I was mildly chastized by a friend of mine who has been trying for 3 years to get pregnant (she was unaware of the diagnosis). I dont think carrying Dead Baby Walking put me in any kind of lucky catagory, yet Im sure she envied me. Ha. One thing I did learn from this is that grief is isolating and personal. While you mourn your "un-pregnancy" I mourned my pregnancy and have nothing to say to my friend, diagnosed similarly, whose baby died 2 days after birth. We all mourn, we all are sad, and our public faces, pregnant or no, rarely reflect the reality of our lives.

Posted by: That Girl at October 03, 2005 04:06 PM (gu1Ur)

8 When my grandpa, the Baptist preacher, would hold communion, part of the drill was to quote Jesus as saying, "and this is my blood..." And then grampa would slam back a slug of wine. So maybe that's wine, not blood, you're leaking. I don't know if it would be as good as eis wein, but what the heck. Also, if you wait till March, you will have the baby around Christmas. Another good time to slam back some wine. You're a swell story teller, Helen. I am very glad to have found you.

Posted by: old horsetail snake at October 03, 2005 04:07 PM (acLa9)

9 I did think how lucky that other woman was, yes. But I also felt-Gee...you're a former patient here. You know what it was like to sit in these seats. How would you have felt when you were going through this if a very pregnant woman came in amongst you? How would you feel if a very pregnant woman had come in and talked about how lucky you were, even if you couldn't feel lucky in any way shape or form? I am sorry about your baby, ThatGirl. I really am. And I couldn't agree more that our public faces are never a mirror for what's inside.

Posted by: Helen at October 03, 2005 04:23 PM (Fpvv4)

10 Great good luck, Helen and Angus! :-) (And your swimmers story made Amber spit out her tea this morning) Now that's class! ;-)

Posted by: Amber at October 03, 2005 05:10 PM (zQE5D)

11 I agree that fall babies are the best, being one, and having married one I wish you much luck and love as you and Angus go forward with this new adventure.

Posted by: caltechgirl at October 03, 2005 10:59 PM (WfvM0)

12 It's gonna happen. It's gotta. Now enjoy your holidays and then get down to business...

Posted by: sue at October 03, 2005 11:33 PM (02K9y)

13 Sorry about the pregnant woman...just wondering..I'm sure you've probably seen it or read the book but the film "Maybe Baby" is about a couple's struggle with IVF and hits on the same feelings as you have. Just thought I'd suggest it..have a good week Helen.

Posted by: Juls at October 03, 2005 11:56 PM (SDeyC)

14 I wish I could just say, "Make it happen" for you, but my powers are not happening at the moment....I think it's good that you're protecting yourself against the potential holiday hurt. Just wait for the quiet time and grow that baby! I love your story telling and wish I could take this pain away. Thankfully I didn't have trouble having my children, but everyone has their own hearache, that's one thing I've learned. So smug preggers might be sailing through this part of her life, but maybe she had a horrible childhood, or will end up taking care of her incontinent mother for the rest of her life.... I'm just saying you don't know the pain that someone else is going through....but a good slapping might still be due her!

Posted by: Kathy at October 04, 2005 01:04 AM (flb/n)

15 I prefer to be a lurker rather than a poster but I hope one day you write a book as one person here suggested. Please, please, please. Is that enough begging? You write so well I cannot believe I get your life and thoughts all on the world wide web for free.

Posted by: Judi at October 04, 2005 01:39 AM (hC3ot)

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