bastard bastard bastard

I’ve not quite kept up the detailed and informative chronicle I planned of this year’s IVF fandango, so here’s a snapshot of the last 3-4 weeks in an attractive summary format:

No. of buserelin induced tantrums (“BITs”)


Common triggers of BITs

H breathing, H speaking, H doing nothing, H doing anything, H failing to wipe down Nipper’s bib, H looking at me, H not looking at me, H doing things to help, H not doing things to help, H going to sleep, H not going to sleep, any event or circumstance after 9.30pm.

Items thrown, hit or broken during BITs

Mug, tray, dishcloth, scrubbing brush, washing up bowl, bin, bucket, broom, hoover, dog bowl, hairbrush, hair straighteners, clothes, mattress, pillows, phone, glasses, chair, tube of toothpaste (beaten violently against sink for its crimes)

Injuries and damage sustained during BITs

Cut hand (on broken chair), burnt hand (hair straighteners), poss. broken finger (beating toothpaste against sink), large quantities of toothpaste on clothes and bathroom walls (ibid.)

Positive thoughts about buserelin generally


No. of days completed of health eating and exercise


Slices of toast consumed to date during treatment


Anxiety levels about a) failure of frosties to thaw b) failure of frosties to implant c) general level of insanity surrounding what is almost certainly our last IVF attempt whilst simultaneously dealing with sea of shit at work, general career crisis, and caring for deranged (but perfect) Nipper


I can’t say I’m having a lot of fun this time round. Mind you, I can’t say last time was a lot of fun either, but the side effects seem a lot worse this time and positivity levels feel very low.

Down-reg scan was fine though, and v. sensible nurse has persuaded us that we would be insane and irresponsible to put back both blastocysts. I know she’s right, and I’m certain that we will only go with one, but it is much harder this time to think of the other all alone in the freezer, lost and lonely amongst the peas and fish fingers.

Also, quite anxious about some of the nebulous hypotheses that have been floated as to what we do if the first frostie defrosted suffers cell loss, i.e. do we defrost the second, pick the best, and toss the other? I am forever indebted to the scientific advances that gave us our little Nipper, but I have mixed feelings to say the least about having to make this kind of decision. I really hope we don’t have to.