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Adoption Course

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Whilst I was waiting for my result from the embryo adoption, a very old friend called me and said

“Look I am sure it will work but if it doesn’t one of the Mum’s at Holly’s school is a social worker and I told her about you and she said that she can get you a baby.”

As I recovered from the surgery I remembered what my friend had said so I called her.

“Mandy will sort you out, give her a call, you’ll have to go to one of those information evenings, but she said if you apply through her borough she can oversee your case and get you a baby without any problems.” she said.

Could we really get this lucky?

“All that crap about there’s no babies, it’s a lie! call her”

I spoke to Lee, after the last experience he was reluctant but I persuaded him and we put our names down for the information event.

The day arrived, my friend had told us not to mention or make it obvious that we had been introduced via a friend, they’re weird about that sort of stuff she said. Now we had never met her in person, we just had a description, Mandy was easy to find as they all had name badges on. There were lots of tables with information on them and social worker’s taking the details from interested couples. It was fairly painless compared to the last one we went to. we just had to wait now for someone to contact us.

A few weeks later we got a call from one of the social works arranging to come and see us in our home. The date was fixed we were going on holiday the following day so it felt good that something was happening before we left.

I cleaned the house from top to bottom. God we had a lot of crap! Lee’s office was worse than mine perhaps we could skip showing her that room.

I remember a friend telling me about someone she knew who was thinking of adopting, they had the home visit and were turned down because they had a pond and they didn’t like their windows. I was a little worried as Lee was a Stand Up Comedian and I was an Actress/Comedian/jack of all trade’s, not sure what they were going to make of that. Being self-employed could be an issue. So I had a quick look at the criteria and was really surprised to see that they had relaxed it since the last time I looked a few years ago. They had changed the age limit and you didn’t even need to be in employment.

She looked around the house asked us some obvious questions. She wrote in her book a lot and talked about a course that we would have to go on if we were going to be considered as prospective adopters. A four-day course, Lee’s face dropped, I gave him a look. The September course was happening while we were on holiday, but they were running another one in December, but she was concerned that I had not had enough time between that and my ectopic pregnancy. I tried to reassure her that we were ready, she said that she would consult with the rest of the social workers on the team and get back to us, but she felt that it might be better for us to wait another year. She left and I was disappointed but hopeful that we would get a place on the next course. If we waited another year we would be too old, feel too old at least.

Whilst away on holiday I got a message from my friend saying that there was some objection to us being put on the December course. However that had been over ruled by Mandy who had insisted we be invited to attend. So we had insider information, was this orthodox? Probably not, did I care? I am going to say this loud so you can hear me………………… NO! Because for once we had someone in our corner and it felt good.

December came around really quickly.

Lee flew back from America the night before so was sleep deprived. It was snowing so I drove part of the way. There were 4 couples on the course, we had to do the introduction games as you would expect on one of these courses. I remember one of the social workers running the session got the instructions to the exercise wrong confusing the whole group, I put it down to nerves.

They talked about the process. Interviewing family and friends and any previous partners that you had lived with, which again horrified the majority of people in the room. Financial investigations would be done criminal checks, finger prints, your whole life up to this point would be scrutinized and you would have to talk about your past no matter how painful that might be. One guy kept shaking his head and said

“What if I don’t want to talk about all that stuff?”

One particular social worker (who I was growing to dislike) said “Well you better get used to the idea because we have to look into everything!”

I over heard this particular social worker talking to one of her colleagues in the break, she said

“That couple are not right for adoption, they always touching each other.”

I walked into the room unexpectedly another time and caught her talking about Lee, “He thinks he knows everything”

How can you judge people so harshly when you have known them for such a short amount of time?

I later got a text message which read:

“Tell Lee to rein it in!”

I was told that evening by my friend that they had been talking about him upstairs, Mandy overheard, hence the text. He had just challenged them on a few things and I don’t think they liked it.

That afternoon they shared some case studies with us. The picture was bleak, they talked of children who hit, bit and threw stuff, shit! Now I don’t mean shit, as in this is terrible but actual shit.

“How often do they throw excrement? Asked the very middle class older lady with the ugly shoes.

I couldn’t believe she asked that, how could they possibly know the answer. Did she expect them to have a chart of all the London boroughs indicating where the most prolific shit throws and biter’s were.

“It’s not a common problem, but some children will display these kinds of behaviors” said the social worker.

This was the last thing that was talked about before we all left for the day, everyone left the room in silence.

“I can’t wait to hear what they’re going to come out with tomorrow” said the partner of the middle-aged women with the ugly shoes.

The next morning we were asked to work together as a couple to write down our ideal child, dream child! Is there such a thing?

“What do you want your child to look like? Think about your dream child! Write down the color of their hair, eyes, how old do you want them to be? Think about their personality.”

Did she think we had images of babies swimming towards us like in the Evian adverts!!

Lee and I just looked at each other in disbelief, we did not have an image of a child in mind, so we voiced this.

One of the social workers promptly said.

“When asked this question, some couples say that they want their adopted child to look just like them”

We thought that was nuts how can you think that you would find a child that looks exactly like you and your partner when you did not give birth to the child.

What we wrote on our piece of paper was, we want our child to be cheeky and have curly hair, as she was not going to let us get away with out writing anything. Lee put down one eye, I think he’d watched futurama the night before.

You could see the other couples around the room talking to each other quite intently and taking a lot of time to get this right, I am not belittling them in any way it’s just Lee and I did not have an ideal child in mind, we did not have a picture of what our child should look like.

So after about 15 minutes she told us to stop writing and then she said.

“Now (everyone looked up at her) are you sure you have put all your thoughts and dreams down described your child clearly so that if I read it I would have a picture in my mind of what you really want?”

Everyone nodded.

“Good now read it one more time and make sure you haven’t left anything out.”

Heads went down one more time and then she said.

“Now tear that up!”

The whole group looked at each other in bewilderment, what the hell was she asking us to do, one bloke got really angry.

“You heard me tear it up, because you are never going to get your dream child”

You could see some of the people crumble and get smaller, It was hard to witness.

They called a break, and she left the room, I could see one couple close to tears. Didn’t she understand that most of the couples in the room were all for one reason or another unable to have their own children, could she not comprehend that this was a hard pill to swallow without being told that, hey guess what the fantasy you have in your mind of a small boy or girl with the curly hair and the cheeky grin, running towards you call out Mummy, feeling their hand in yours, not going to happen!!! Fuck you bitch, guess what! No one in this room likes you, not even the people you work with, anyone can see that. I had the feeling that one couple really thought that this was a sort of fact-finding exercise regarding the child and it was going to be put into their profile and used as a blueprint when social workers were looking for a suitable match. Instead it was a very cruel reality check.

Later on as we were all standing around in silence having a cup of tea I got talking to the only single woman on the course.

“Have you subscribed to any of the publications?” she said

“No”

I knew the ones she was talking about, it was a little early for that wasn’t it?

“I’ve signed up for be my parent, I want to start looking for children now”

I was a little bit shocked, she wasn’t even approved as an adopter and she was already looking for children, insane! I looked through those magazines when we went to the first adoption evening in Wandsworth. Didn’t she know that most of those kids would be matched by the time she’d got approval, and no borough will even consider your enquiry before that.

“I saw a little boy yesterday and he’d be perfect for me he even has the same color hair”

Well that’s all sorted then. She was who the social workers were talking about when she referred to some people searching for a child who looked like exactly like them.

I had to walk away, I sort refuge in the toilet but as I entered I saw one of the other women from the course crying in front of the mirror.

“Sorry!” I felt bad for intruding.

“Sorry, I’m just so pissed off! My sister has had 3 abortions and now she pregnant again, she’s keeping this one of course!! She didn’t give a shit about kids until I wanted one, now she’s 3 months gone. She doesn’t even know who the father is, Christ! We had 5 rounds of IVF, could have done the loft with the money we’ve spent not to mention getting fired from job because allegedly I rammed into by bosses car in the car park, he said I wasn’t hitting my targets. Sorry did you need the loo? that ones blocked.”

“No, I just wanted to wash my hands”

“These social workers have got no idea who we are, they’re treating us like idiots, it just makes me laugh, all of us here seem like reasonable educated people, meanwhile there are thousands of children out there being neglected by their birth parents. How many more hoops do we have to jump through in order to prove that we’re worthy!!”

She had a point, I know that they had to do their checks but some of the stuff they were putting us through seemed a little unnecessary.

That afternoon they asked us all sorts of questions. Would we smack our non-existent children? Agree to sibling contact, letterbox contact or in some cases visits with the birth parents. Then the subject of names came up and the big debate of whether or not we would feel the need to change the child’s birth name. It felt like we were being marked against each other.

“Why would you change a child’s name?” said one of the social workers

We all sat in silence for fear of getting the answer wrong.

“As a rule we would advise that the forever family keep the child’s birth name unless it’s a security risk some names have to be changed to protect the child. Also some names are just unsuitable for a child”

“What like Derek or Tinkerbell” said one of the men in the group.

Two of the social worker’s looked at each other.

“No, like Master Lucifer Demon”

“What that’s ridiculous no one would call a child that!” said the lady with the ugly shoes

“There is a child with that name, unfortunately the registrar didn’t feel the need to challenge this so it is the child’s legal name.”

On the last day they brought in some people who were fostering and two of who had adopted children. The women next to me asked if she could see a photo of them. Every one just stared at her, had she not listened to a word being said regarding the identity of the children. It was what everyone else was thinking. They had painted such a bleak picture, we wanted to see photos to see for ourselves that there were children out there living with their adopted families and that they weren’t all face biter’s and shit throwers.

We finished a little early on the last day and they sent us away with the obligatory feedback forms and an application pack. They told us to go away and think about all the stuff we had talked about over the last week and if we felt that we would like to go ahead then we need to fill out the application form and send it in.

We were leaving on the 22nd December and I wanted to get the application form in before we left, so I talked to Lee and he said go ahead fill it in, so I did and I drove it there and handed it in myself. I wanted to know in my mind that it had actually got there. It felt like things were finally moving and that felt really really good!

PS: At the top of the page is the picture of our dream child

 

Embryo Adoption

Photo foe EDTo Spain

From an outside perspective we were just a couple going off to Spain for a long weekend. Looking back now, I don’t think I really cared what anyone else thought. I was doing this now no mater what. I was in this kind of madness, obsessed by one thing and driven by the desire to get knocked up!

We got to Spain on the Sunday afternoon some friends of ours were also there, pure coincidence, a birthday trip.  Sitting in the sun with them the day before they all drank wine while I sipped water, we all laughed and joked about how our lives would be so different in a few weeks time.

The hotel we were staying at was recommended by the clinic, it was nice enough. The morning of our appointment we sat in the breakfast area and I looked around at some of the other people sipping coffee and reading the newspaper’s. Trying to guess who else had come to here to adopt and embryo, and then surge of panic ran through me. What do you tell a child born from embryo adoption? do you just not bother? seeing as none of the donors details would be made available. Maybe I should have thought about this before now! It didn’t even occur to me.

The clinic was better than I’d expected, it felt clean and well organised, lots of people coming and going. We checked in and sat in the waiting room. One of the ladies that we’d met at the fertility fair come out to greet us, it was reassuring to see a familiar face.

“How are you?” she said

Er… actually I am suddenly having a moral crisis! to tell or not to tell? what to tell? HELL!

So do you:

  1. Not tell the child and hope that no one blurts it out? Let’s face it, one big-mouthed family member is bound let it slip. (I’m guessing Norman, AKA Brian, my eldest brother who we fondly named after the character in Psycho, only he’s far more loveable than my brother.)
  2. Tell them that you adopted them as a frozen embryo, and then show them some random pictures of good-looking Spanish couples.
  3. Run now and never have to deal with this moral and ethical dilemma. 

“Yes fine?” What else could I say. 

“Good, ok so we’re preparing everything for you so if you can take a seat and drink some water as we need you to have a full bladder to do the procedure. Please do NOT empty your bladder, we will call you once everything is set up.”

I had downed so much orange juice at the hotel my tongue was starting to swell up (greedy cow!) I already had a full bladder and needed the loo so I was hoping that it wasn’t going to take too long as I wasn’t very good at holding on. Our appointment was for 12.00 it was 11.55, so not long now.

12.35, still waiting and I was getting really uncomfortable, it didn’t help that we were sitting really close to a toilet and there was a large clock on the wall, time was dragging and I could feel myself starting to sweat. I undid my trousers. How much longer were we going to have to wait. 1.00 what was going on? I was starting to lose my nerve, when finally we were called. We had to walk outside the building and down the road a few yards to a set of automatic doors. Inside we were led to a room where I was asked to get undressed and into a hospital gown. Lee had to wear scrubs we were looking at each other in surprise. They didn’t do this at the Lister. I was then led into a sterile room and got into the chair with my legs in the stirrups. The procedure began and I was so desperate to go to the toilet it was now becoming really painful. Just as they were about to insert the catheter the nurse spoke.

“The embryos we had selected for you did not defrost properly”

“Don’t you hate it when that happens!” said Lee

We all gave his a hard stare.

“What!” said Lee

“It’s ok we always have a back up and we are going to insert those now”

“Who donated these? a couple of mutant ninja turtles!”

The nurse looked at Lee with confusion, it had been lost in translation thank God! Although he had a point they could have told us this information before I was lying with my legs in stirrups, we didn’t really have much choice at this point.

It reminded me of the time my friend went to a slimming clinic. After they’d extorted bundles of cash they handed over a minuscule packet of pills that promised to remove the fat from the food when she ate it.

As she was leaving the surgery the doctor said “Oh, a warning!”

” WHAT! AND NOW A WARNING.

“Do not eat any fat whilst taking these pills!” “What happens if you do that?” she said

“You will not get the desired results.”

She crapped herself in the changing room of British home stores. I’m pretty sure that was not her desired result. Don’t eat fat won’t get fat you TWIT!

INFORMATION UP FRONT PEOPLE!

Back to me…

After much gouging and poking they managed to get them in. Two little embryos, they showed us them on the screen. They did look a bit like turtles.

“There we are, we have placed them nice and high, so you just relax for a while and when you’re ready you can get dressed and go back to your hotel. These embryos matched the criteria, there were just a few differences”

I was a little bit concerned when she said this.

“What differences?” I said

“The female donor was younger than the last one and the male donor was taller and the eye colour was green not blue.”

“Green, are you ok with that?” said Lee

I couldn’t give a shit at this point, all I heard was that they had eyes, so great that fine! eyes are good!

I got dressed and we said goodbye, got in a cab and went back to the hotel.

Lee went out to buy us some food and I lay on the bed and tried to get my head around what had just happened. Now we just had to wait for two weeks to see if this had all been worth it.

I took it easy for the next two weeks Lee was away working for part of the time so I amused myself with the popular TV series the Wire, getting completely obsessed with “Stringer Bell” they told me after 14 days to take a blood test this would determine the result, they don’t recommend a pregnancy test with this type of procedure as it can give you an incorrect outcome.

Waiting for the result to come through was agonising, as so much was ridding on it to work.

Doctor calling

“Hello Miss O’Reilly, yes I can confirm that the result from the blood test is positive.”

“What? Does that mean I’m pregnant?”

“Yes, it means you’re pregnant………….are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry I just can’t believe it”

“Congratulations, make an appointment to come in and we can get your delivery date confirmed and look at your birthing plan”

“Thank you”

I sat on the sofa with the phone pressed against my ear for a few minutes before I was able to think about what to do next. I called Lee.

“It’s positive, I’m pregnant.”

There was silence and I heard him sigh.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, you don’t sound very happy?”

“I don’t know, I’m just trying to take it in.”

The phone went dead. It was a bit of an anticlimax, was he hoping it wasn’t going to work? was he just going along with me not really thinking that this was going to be a reality.  I called one of my really good friends and she drove over to see me, she was more emotional than I was.

The next few weeks were a bit surreal, I wanted to go out and buy things but I stopped by self. I couldn’t tell too many people until I got passed the 12 weeks. I was doing things slowly and not pushing myself too much. Lee came home and we just took things one day at a time. I had a few days work and then we had the May bank holiday weekend. Sunday I started to spot, I looked it up on the Internet and some of the fertility websites talked about implantation bleeding so I was reassured at first but then the pain kick in, a bit like menstrual cramps, then bleeding got much worse. Monday morning it was clear that something was not right, so Lee took me straight to the hospital; we didn’t have to wait long. The Doctor gave me an internal and removed the rest of what ever was left of my pregnancy, I had suffered a miscarriage. I felt a bit sore and yes I was disappointed but I thought you know what, we could do it again. I went home, had a bath and glass of wine for the first time in ages.

They did a blood test whilst I was at the hospital and it indicated that my HCG (human chorionic gonadotropin) levels were really high, having suffered a miscarriage it would now decline. I was called by the Doctor and Instructed to go to my GP and have another blood test, I did this, this was now the middle of the week.

I was called on Friday night by the on call Doctor at the hospital.

“Hello is that Miss O’Reilly?”

“Yes.”

“Dr Stratos here, on call gynaecologist Kingston hospital, how are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Now, your HCG levels are still rising, so we need to just keep an eye on you for the next 24 hrs, the last blood test is still at the lab, that should be back by the morning, I need you to stay home this evening and if you do feel unwell come straight in to the hospital.”

“I don’t understand what this means.”

“You had a miscarriage last week, so you HCG levels should be going down, but they’re not. How many embryos did you have implanted?”

“Two, does this mean I could still be pregnant?”

“It’s difficult to say at this stage until we do some further investigation, so can you please stay at home and we’ll know more once the test result come back.”

“Ok, thank you.”

I put the phone down, I couldn’t help fantasising that one of the little embryo’s had clung in there, and was determined to take root. I went to bed feeling really hopeful.

The next morning I got up and as I hadn’t heard from the hospital  I got dressed and was just about to get in the car when the phone rang it was 7.30.

“Hello Dr Stratos here, can you bring your husband and come to the hospital right away.”

“But I feel fine.”

“ Your HCG scores are still rising and we need to find out why, please come in immediately, it’s really important that you do.”

I woke Lee up, and we walked to the hospital it was a beautiful sunny day. When we arrived they made us sit out side the ward until the on call gynaecologist came to see us.

“Hello, I’m Helen McCarty consultant gynaecologist can you follow me I want to do an internal scan to see if we can ascertain exactly what’s going on”

We followed her up to the floor above she unlocked the room with the large dildo machine resided. It was Saturday so it was cold in the room and there was a silence you don’t normally hear in hospitals. It took her a few minutes to warm up the machine and get in position.

“Ok, so if you can remove your lower garments and slide your bottom down as far a possible”

It funny after the miscarriage I had my hair done and painted my hands and toes, I guess I was just trying to cheer my self up. As I lay there I looked at my toenails, that’s when I realised that I’d forget to paint the big toe on my right foot, LOON!

“Ok, so just relax.”

She was much better at this that the last one. After about 2 minutes of fiddling and poking she turned to us and said.

“It’s as I thought I’m afraid, you have an ectopic pregnancy, I’m so sorry but we are going to have to take you down to surgery asap?”

I looked at Lee in disbelief, this had not even occurred to me, I had no clue that something like this could happen. I was slightly confused. How could I have an ectopic pregnancy, it wasn’t my egg that came down the tube, this made no sense to me, I expressed this to the doctor.

“Your tube has sucked the embryo up, we see quite a high rate of this with IVF.”

Not one person throughout this whole process ever mentioned the possibility of this happening.

“Have you eaten anything this morning? Said the Doctor

“She had an egg, ha ha, sorry I can’t believe I said that.”

The Doctor and I looked at Lee with contempt, she just ignored him.

“Right well let’s get back down to the ward and get you gowned up. I’m going to perform a procedure called a hysteroscopy it…”

“I know what it is. I have already had one of these, it was done in 2012, to remove a cyst on my tube.”

“Oh, well I’m really sorry but were going to have to do it all over again”

We walked in silence, I was feeling bad, I felt like I had brought this on myself and I was so fucked off that I had to have the same procedure again. No driving for two weeks, no running, no work, no strenuous anything. I had a job I would have to cancel and quick. It was bad enough that the bloody thing didn’t work, now this, I was just so pissed off. I was absolutely fine with it not working, but this, I felt like I was being punished, some higher power really didn’t want me to have a child, I felt fine all I wanted to do was leave the hospital and go home.

“Can’t you just give me an injection, I read somewhere that you could do that, can’t you do that?”

“It’s too late for that I’m afraid, the embryo has a heat beat, the only solution is surgery”

A heart beat, I felt completely sick, like I’d been hit with something sharp and heavy. It had a heart beat, it was alive and growing in my tube and the only alternative was to cut it out of me. It’s heart was beating, I really didn’t need to hear that, we were so close, it was living with a beating heart and there was nothing anyone could do to save it. I was so fucking mad! So I went back to the room and they prepped me for surgery and down I went.

I woke up a few hours later in a lot of pain, I was feeling so sad. I looked out of the window and saw two women walking down the road pushing baby buggies, now what? I remembered what my little nephews had told me (You can never have a baby because you’ve got white walls) turns out they were right.

“Hello” the consultant pushed the door open and came in.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore”

“That’s to be expected, I can’t believe how unlucky you’ve been, I have never seen anyone have a miscarriage and then an ectopic pregnancy in the same week. You really have had the worst possible outcome, I am so sorry.”

She put her hand on mine, I was still taking it all in, I couldn’t believe it either. I had never been spoken to like that by a Doctor, it was unexpected, kind, I will never forget it.

The next two weeks were a blur of TV and Tramadol the doctor gave me a huge batch. So I sat drugged up to my eyeballs in front of the tele, watching crap with my cat on my lap. Thanks Betty x

 

 

NUTS

IMG_1348
‘You can’t have kids!’ yells my nephew ‘Oh yeah why’s that then?’I reply ‘Cos you’ve got white walls.’ Why the F***K didn’t anyone tell me this before!

Sometimes you’ll do anything to get what you want, but when you find yourself lying to the STD clinic just to get a few tests done, you know you’re officially a Psycho!

Lee was happy to pursue treatment at the clinic in Spain. I think he was doing it for me more than anything else. We talked about using his onward christian soldiers, but he said ‘If we can’t use your eggs then we should just go straight for the embryo adoption.’  YES!!!!! I was over the moon a baby’s a baby right? plus it did make things less complicated and much less expensive!

We had a skype call with the clinic in Spain, they went through the process and all the tests and paper work that needed to be completed before we could make the trip.

So I went to see my GP and she was not very happy about doing any tests in-fact she refused to do do them altogether. I couldn’t believe it because when she stood up you could clearly see she was about 6 months pregnant but felt it was ok to refuse me some blood tests that could help to the do the same, I thought pregnancy was supposed to make you all serene, not her she was mean!

So I left her surgery and then had an epiphany, we could go to the GUM clinic, they don’t ask questions there, well they do but they’re not going to say no! We needed HIV, Hep B, Hep C and Chlamydia. We would have to tell a white lie at the clinic otherwise they wouldn’t do the tests.

So I went home told Lee and I marched him straight to the clinic. What a bitch!

I haven’t been to one of those places for about 20 years so I was expecting it to be a bit demeaning as I’d certainly felt that the last time I been, with a friend of course!  Not the case here, we walked in, the place looked brand new there was a handful of people  sitting in the waiting room. Two obligatory teenagers looking guilty and terrified, a gay guy and an old lady who I think came in to get out of the cold, she was clearly confused as she kept asking for a cup of Earl Grey. The walls were full of posters depicting the risks of unsafe sex describing some of the unpronounceable sexually transmitted diseases. Blimey I don’t remember that one in my day! As I looked at the other people sitting there in the waiting I couldn’t help but wonder how many of those would be diagnosed with something. I don’t remember them being so complicated when I was a teenager. No wonder everyone was looking so perplexed.

‘Hi there, how can we help you?’

‘We’ve been traveling and we’d really like to get some test done now that were back just for peace of mind.’

‘Where have you been traveling?’

‘All over the planet, er everywhere really, we’ve been gone ages.’

‘Did you visit Africa?’

“Yep I am pretty sure we did, we were a bit messed up, you know how it is, it’s hard to remember!’

Lee looked away in embarrassment, I have always been a good liar it’s the Catholic up bringing.

‘Ok if you can fill out theses forms, and well see what we can do.’

So we sat down and waded through the forms stating our sexual orientation how many sexual partners we’d had, if we’d taken drugs, had anal sex or eaten bush meat, what?

‘Lee!’

‘What!’

‘We have to say that we have done everthing on this list otherwise they won’t do all the tests we need.’

‘This is fucking humilatating!’

‘Look, it’s good acting practice, get into character.’

We took the forms back up to the counter.

‘Ok if you can come with me.’ she indicated to me.

I followed the nurse down the corridor leaving Lee behind in the waiting area.

I had my list of tests I needed to get done but I couldn’t let them know that, so I just waited with patience as she looked through my forms.

‘So you’ve been traveling that’s nice! Where did you go?’

‘We travelled all over?’

‘Africa?’

‘Yes!’

‘Where in Africa?’

‘Wow where didn’t we go, all over.’

‘Ok so there are some standard tests we can do when you’ve been traveling to that part of the world. Have you been having unsafe sex?’

‘Yes.’ I said very emphatically

She raised an eyebrow, I don’t think she even realised that she did it. Well she had seen me in the waiting room with Lee.

‘I would like to have HIV, Hep B, Hep C and Chlamydia.’ I said it very casually.

‘We don’t do Hep B unless you’ve been having sex with intravenous drug users?’

‘I have been doing that.’

‘I’m sorry I’m a bit confused?’

‘Me too, I mean, I was.’

She looked at me as if to say ‘Really?’

Oh for Fuck sake, make it hard why don’t you! Yes I was in Africa with my husband and we were having sex with all sorts of people. Who may have been gay straight by-sexual HIV positive and yes I did take it up the arse whilst eating bush meat! And one did look a bit like Chewbacca from Starwars…Now will you do the tests I need……

‘What!’ she said

That’s when I realised the only part I actually said out loud was ‘Make it hard.’

‘What was that?.’ she said

‘Sorry I’m a bit nervous.’

She got up and went over to the drawer and got all the paraphernalia to do the blood tests, plus a speculum.

‘Well need to do an internal.’

‘Oh is it ok if I come back for that as Aunt flow has just arrived.’

She nodded, she didn’t believe but what could she do. She did all the tests and I left feeling victorious, Lee on the other hand was looking very traumatised.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘They stuck a steel rod up my Johnson!’

‘Jesus, why do you let the do that?’

‘Because you said they wouldn’t have done all the test if I’d said no!’

We walked home in silence but we’d done what we’d set out to do.

Sometimes you have to sacrifice one for the good of many!

Sorry Lee!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Olympia

 

 

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‘Do you need sperm? We have very good strong sperm! Or maybe you need egg? We have a very exclusive list of donors, anything from ballet dancers to astronauts.’

December 2011 Jackie and I were still in the same position. So I turned once again to the Oracle, when I say oracle I’m mean of course the Metro, at the back, these things were always at the back. There was a huge advertisement for The Fertility fair! To be held at Olympia, wow! Fertility fair, like a wedding fair, only I have never been to a wedding fair or any other fair of this nature. My Sister went to the cat show once and went completely demented and came home with all sorts of useless cat paraphernalia, which I believe she is still paying off.

I tore out the advertisement and looked it up on-line when I got home, the tickets were unsurprisingly inexpensive so I called Jackie and suggested we go.

I bought three tickets as another friend Jules had expressed a desire to join us, even through she had managed to have her child, she thought it would be a good idea to have a least one stable person in the group in case Jackie or I became unhinged and tried to mount the driver of the night bus on the way home because it was obvious that there would be some drinking involved at some point if not all points during the day.

I didn’t really know what to expect and as we approached the main entrance we were bombarded by several promotion people giving out products. This very polite young guy handed us all a pen, which we all grabbed because who doesn’t like free stuff, plus you can never find a pen when you need one, but on closer inspection this was no ordinary pen, it reminded me of a lava lamp only instead of bright-colored blob’s moving slowly up and down, it had 5 little sperm and if you turned the pen up side down they were in hot pursuit of an egg. I love this pen so much I still have it, this was a promotion for the magazine The Fertility Road, me and Jackie looked at each other and telepathically acknowledged that is was going to be a long one.

Once inside it was set up like any other fair, stands with people promoting their particular part in this license to print money event. IVF clinics from all over the world, Pharmaceutical companies, sperm banks, nutritionists, Chinese medicine, Adoption agencies, complementary medicines and hockey cocky salesman, not to mention thousands of tortured men and women who are willing to buy, try, and believe anything in order to have a small human being, that they were going to, let’s face it, probably fuck up!

As we walked around it was patiently obvious that there were a lot more women here than men. One of the stands we wandered past had tall blond women in white uniforms manning it, on closer inspection we realized that it was the Russians, who waisted no time.

‘Come sit please!’

Jackie and I obeyed of course and before we knew it we were sitting in two chairs inside the stand.

‘Tell me what your problem, is it your eggs?’

Blimey we hadn’t even had a cup of coffee yet I was thinking we might start with a bit of Aromatherapy, or a free stress ball!

‘Do you need sperm? We have very good strong sperm! Or maybe you need egg? We have a very exclusive list of donors, anything from ballet dancers to astronauts.’

Jackie and I looked at each other in disbelief but we were too scared to get up.

‘Ok you fill out this form, you pay today and when you come for treatment we put you up in 5 star hotel, you come, spend a week see sights, have treatment, we take care of you.’

I was starting to feel weird.

‘We have a seminar to go to, but we’ll come back after.’

We got up so quickly I knocked the chair over, and we walked as quickly as possible to the furthest end of the exhibition centre.

There were seminars going all over the place and we decided that we would sit in on a few of them to see if we could learn anything that may help us in our quest.

The first one was a very distinguished looking Doctor talking about the reproductive system in both men and women. He said something that all three of us could not believe. That woman were born with millions of eggs that disappear with increasing frequency, in-fact it declines so rapidly that after 30 she will barely have an eighth left. After 40 it’s very bleak having only 3% of her ovarian reserve left! We all looked at each other, in shock, I think we knew that the longer you left it the harder it would be, but sitting here hearing the cold hard facts made me feel really bloody stupid, why did we not pay attention to this? It made me want to go outside and yell it in the street.

‘You, put a baby in that women!’

‘But there are things we can do.’ said the Doc

‘We have been using pioneering treatment and the oldest women we have assisted in getting pregnant is a 72-year-old women in India.’

I burst out laughing, the whole room turned and looked at the three of us sitting there, Jackie and Jules were giggling too, but I was almost hysterical. Jules grabbed me and pulled me out of the seminar. ‘Go the toilet!’

So I ran into the nearest loo, laughing like a mad woman, I was laughing so much I could hardly catch my breath I was bent over the sink almost convulsing. Then I heard the door and then suddenly I felt an arm around me, I knew it wasn’t either of my friends because of the strange perfume I could smell.

‘It’s ok.’ said the voice

I glanced up and saw a strange women in the mirror.

‘It’s ok, I know exactly how you feel.’ she started to cry, that’s when I realised that she thought I was crying not laughing, so I played along, feeling terrible as I didn’t want her to think I was making fun of the situation, as I really wasn’t I think it was a defense mechanism, I tend to try to see the funny side of everything, even if sometimes some might think it inappropriate.

‘Thank you.’ I said and broke away from her and ran into a cubical, I waited for her to leave before I came out. I looked at my self in the mirror and it did look as if I’d been crying, but I think the laughter was just a way for me to release some tension. Once out of the toilet I found Jackie and Jules having a foot massage.

I had done some research on-line before I’d booked our tickets to see who would be at the event and I’d found a Spanish company offering IVF but they we also offering embryo adoption. Frozen embryo’s that are donated by couples that have had their children and were willing to give their spare embryos to people who had not managed to achieve this. When you think about it, it’s pretty amazing, so what they’re doing is essentially giving away a dream for someone else to grab. It was also very inexpensive compared to IVF. We went over and had a chat with them. They were very nice not loud and pushy like the Russian’s. They explained the process all the tests you needed to have done before they would accept you as candidates. The problem was that a lot of the tests we’d had done were now all out of date, so they would have to be repeated all over again, and I couldn’t see my GP agreeing to do them all again, I would need another mammogram and Leigh and I would have to have a full sexual heath screening done again, this was going to cost! The woman we talked to said that they try to match blood type and physical characteristics, Jackie and I looked and each other and we were thinking the same thing, when can we go!

As we left the Exhibition centre we walked past the Lister Hospital stand and I saw the Doctor who had failed to listen to me talking to a young couple, I wanted to kick her up her hoop! I had such loathing for her, thinking back to the first time we meet her, I don’t remember her writing an awful lot down, she never gave me any documentation to check or confirm our understanding that what we had decided was what we actually wanted, she just didn’t listen.

We walked outside it was dark, we went to the nearest pub ordered a bottle of red wine and had a good laugh about what we had just witnessed. I was already thinking about the Spanish clinic and embryo adoption, but I would have to convince Lee first.

Let’s go get a bambino!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lister

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You’re not doing it properly!!! (no shit)… says the friend with 4 kids. Did I say kids? I meant vampires, vampires with no manners, she looked as if they’d been sucking the life force out of her all night, her eyes had hollowed out and I thought she was going to disintegrate in front of me any moment. These kid’s were devoid of manners or any self-awareness? I went to their house for dinner recently and they could barely hold a knife and fork. If you sit anywhere near them you need a golf umbrella to repel all debris that gets spat from one side of the table to the other as they talked with their mouths stuffed full of chicken drum sticks.

So do I still want to have a kid? I must do other wise I wouldn’t have just put my self through this last ordeal. We went to one of the most well-known fertility clinics in London. Feeling the need to take that next step and do something about the situation we were in. There are various options you can take depending on your test scores and financial position. I chose to go for maximum follicle stimulation; I thought this was the smart thing to do. I thought that this would cover all the bases. If I produced more follicle’s then we would opt for IVF, because you need at least 6 eggs to be able to go down that route, if I only produced a few follicle’s we would go for IUI (Intrauterine insemination) with this procedure they don’t really want you to do it if you produce any more than 3 follicle’s, for fear of multiple pregnancies’.

I had to wait for a couple of test results to arrive before I made my final decision. The doctor told me that she would email me these results the following Monday it was Thursday. Monday arrived and there was no email, so I waited but I really needed to know the results as my cycle had started and the instructions were that I was to call the nurse for a scan between day 1-4 of my cycle. I emailed the Doctor and asked her for the results, I waited for another day still nothing. In the end I called the nurse and explained that I needed the results to make that final decision as one of the tests was to check my AMH levels, as I had scored quite low on a previous test and I had made the decision that if the score came in any lower than the last one then it might not be worth going ahead with either option. The nurse gave me the results over the phone and it was a better score than I’d had before, it still wasn’t great but it hadn’t dropped so I had decided to go ahead and booked in for the scan to get the treatment going. The Doctor took a whole week to get back to me with those results, not what I was expecting when your paying a significant amount of money and time is of the essence. Not impressed!

So I went in for the first scan, and to get my fertility drugs. The Doctor prescribed Gonel F. When the nurse sat me down to instruct me how to inject the drug she asked me if I was getting my drugs from this clinic, I thought where else would I be getting them, the last time I checked the dealer on the corner wasn’t selling fertility drugs, but if he’s smart and he wants to widen his market share they are certainly the drugs to start selling, the mark up on these drugs is phenomenal. I have since read that ASDA sells some fertility drugs and they are selling them for no profit, whether this is true or not I don’t know I have yet to ask for a six-pack of Gonal F while picking up my weekly shop, but you know what, they sold cock rings at one point so who knows?

Whilst you’re doing this you have to go in every other day for a scan to monitor the progression of the developing follicles. This really does take over your life. The scan in question has been nick named the dildo machine by myself and many of my friends, as it resembles a large black dildo. NO we don’t enjoy it! They count and measure the follicles, and try to predict ovulation so that they can either harvest the eggs or time the insemination just right. So you rarely see the same technician, after a while you get used to exposing yourself to a complete stranger and just hope that if they bump into you at a dinner party you’ll look familiar, but they won’t quite be able to remember where from.

Now I know they probably do hundreds of these scans over the course of their career and looking at that part of the female anatomy becomes just second nature to the point they could probably do this examination in their sleep, just a figure of speech, or is it? I was called into the exam room by a man who may as well have shouted, fanny 633.

“If you can slip off your panties and hop on the bed”

I nearly puked at that turn of phrase! So I did what I was asked and watched him sheaf up the policeman’s truncheon and slaver it in KY jelly. So I lay their with my legs open and he stared at the screen fiddled with the knob on the complicated looking machine, waved the dildo dripping in KY around in the air like a light sabre, as I screamed in my head “Help me Obi -Wan Kenobi you’re my only hope” then nothing he just stopped, head down staring at the screen, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was checking Facebook. Then without warning and without looking he came at me with it at ramming speed, a bit of warning would have been nice, and then he proceeded to try to jab it up my arse, I tried to wriggle into a different position to guide the bloody thing into the right spot.

“Please can you keep still” He said, again not even looking at me.

I will I thought if you stop trying to poke it up my arse, I was quite upset because I have never had anything up my arse and as a rule I try to avoid it and I’d managed to achieve it UP to this point. He then managed to find the spot between the two entry points, Jabbing at it as if he was trying to see if it was still alive! which was debatable at this point. I lost my temper grabbed the bloody thing and pointed it in the right direction. I left feeling slightly assaulted and to top it all I had to pay £120. Next time I will illuminate it with fairy lights, so it’s easier to locate. Fuck me!

Now I thought as I said they were prepping me for either option turns out that the Doctor had not listened to what I had ask for. Now I don’t know what I don’t know, and I put my trust in the hands of the experts. They had only put me on the course for IUI (insemination), I didn’t know this not having had anything like this done before. I just went along with the procedure, because I had put my trust in them 100% and believed that they had understood what I had asked for. IS ANYONE LISTENING! So they hadn’t given me enough drugs for IVF which meant that I had only produced two eggs, which is fine for IUI, my two eggs were the same size looking mature which is what you want, and the lining of my womb was looking very good.

So the day came to inseminate and I went along, with my husband. He delivered his swimmers which they wash and select the most active to use in the procedure. You are then taken into a room with a nurse and she gets you ready for the insemination. It’s like having a smear test, so we know the drill. So I’m lying on the bed again with my legs open and I notice that there’s one of those hatches in the wall you know like the one’s they have in restaurants that they pass food through. Food great I wonder what’s on the menu. There was a knock and the hatch flew open to reveal a lab technician, in blue scrubs and a hair net. Great, not that I’m counting but she’s probably 23rd person to have seen my exposed bits. She hands over the sperm, which is in a test tube, and she turns to me to double-check the name of my husband, which is vital to make sure you’re not getting someone else’s protein shake. Incidentally a few weeks ago Lee went along to have some sperm frozen, as he’s away a lot and we thought this would be a  back up plan. The nurse that took his sample got his name wrong!!!! Now there are many occasions when spelling someone’s name wrong is not a big deal, labelling sperm is certainly not one of them. So in goes the speculum and the nurse prepares to inseminate only she couldn’t get the catheter in the right position. Now it’s not painful as such but it’s very very uncomfortable. She takes the speculum out and puts it in again, tries once more to insert the catheter, but she still can’t get it in the right place.. To be honest at this point I was starting to lose confidence in the nurse. She then takes the speculum out again and tells me that she will have to go and get another nurse to help. Please do I’m thinking, and this time can you bring someone in who knows what the Fuck they’re doing! As she gets up she knocks over the tray and instruments and the test tube carrying the sperm falls to the floor, along with speculum and some other bit and pieces. I was distraught,  all I could visualise was hundreds of sperm lying dead in the test tube, having just had their heads bashed in!!!! She returns with another nurse, who explains that I have tilted cervix, that’s right blame me!! And that sometimes it can be a little tricky getting the catheter in, at this point I’m thinking that I would have had better luck with a turkey baster, which incidentally you really shouldn’t use, I have been told that you are much better off doing it with a syringe, having removed the needle first of course.

She returns with another nurse who is slightly older and I think thank Good she’ll know what to do, but alas she doesn’t, she then tells the first nurse to go and get a doctor, she leaves. I’m am now starting to feel really uncomfortable, as I am about to have a yet person gaze into that part of my body that I generally like to keep to a solo show.

Suddenly the door opens and in walks Ryan Gosling’s twin brother, I closed my eyes and pray for a power cut, and just as he walks toward me the nurse who face was so close to my Hoo-ha I could feel her breathing on it!!! Said “It’s ok I got it” he then turned and left the room. THANK FUCK!

After this most uncomfortable, unforgettable experience they allow you to lie on the bed to recover and then you are set free in the hope that after all that the sperm will find the egg and then like it enough to embed it’s self and grow another human being.

It did not work! I would say a complete waste of time and money!! NOW WHAT?

Adoption at the Holiday Inn

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I was reading the Metro on a very over-crowed tube. I’d finished the article about Naomi Campbell’s over sized ET shaped toe, which was strangely gratifying as I knew that something like this would bother her far more than the story breaking about her accepting blood diamonds. I got to the classified section, which I’ve never read before, where I saw an advert for adoption. I guess you don’t notice these things until it’s relevant to you. There was an advert inviting people to an open evening to find out more about adoption. I called the number as soon as I got home and put our names down for the meeting.

I have to say, as the time drew nearer I was apprehensive, I suppose that was to be expected. It was at a Holiday Inn hotel in London. It was one of those hazy summer evenings and as we walked to the hotel I felt a sudden rush of hope, maybe we would be able to adopt a child, after all lot’s of other people do it right?

When we got inside there was a sign on the door of one of the meeting rooms in big letters that said ‘Adoption Evening.’  You had to go through the bar area to get to it. When I saw this my stomach turned over, for some reason I felt ashamed, embarrassed, I hated that I felt this way but I did, it was the same feeling I used to get when my name was called out for free dinners at school. It made me feel like I had failed in someway, I guess being labeled sub fertile had more of an effect than I’d realised.

There were three social workers and an adoptive parent who had adopted three children,  he was there to speak about his experience. The head of the social workers department talked first about the adoption process, what it involved and the time it was likely to take, usually about a year from the beginning to end of the approval process and then how ever long it took to find you the right match. He also drew our attention to the table where there were lots of information about adoption, as well as the magazine’s where they advertise children who were looking for families. He then handed over to another social worker, who talked us through a couple of case histories.

She began by telling us that these were real children. I don’t want to repeat what she said in too much detail because it was too horrific, needless to say several women in the room started to cry, I could not allow myself to do this, had I, I would not have been able to stop. I do remember someone getting up to refill their tea, bad move, we where not watching the TV! The children in question were from horrendous situations, and both had what the social worker referred to as ‘Global development delay’ I still don’t know what this means. I heard one man whisper to his wife ‘Let’s just get a dog’

The social worker then went on to say that they were looking for a families who were willing to take more than one child and that if you were white then the likelihood of you being able to adopt a baby was non-existent, they would encourage you to think about adopting an older child, or three.

In the break the magazines advertising children were passed around, again I felt shame for wanting to look but I just couldn’t help my self.

“Let’s go, these kids all have funny shaped heads” said the man with weirdest shaped head I have ever seen. His wife look mortified, she hit him with the magazine and they left the room. What a prick!

I remember seeing one lovely little boy who I would have taken home in a heat beat but that wasn’t going to happen because I was the wrong colour. Don’t they have an order form at the back so I can get the colour that they would prefer me to have!

We then heard from the guy who’d adopted three, I thought to my self now this makes sense, they probably told him if he wants one, he’ll have to wait, but take three and you can have them next week. His story was a happyish one apart from the bit when he talked about one of the kids, scratching their neck until it bleed and how sometimes he had to sit on top of the child to stop him from harming himself.

So once you’d navigated your way through the process and bared your soul to the social services, badgered your friends to write nice things about you, decorated you’re spare room with Nemo the clown fish with the gimpy fin. You’re almost there right? Not so fast! Because after all that let’s say you do finally find a child in one of those magazine’s or the social worker thinks they have found you a match, there’s still no guarantee, chances are you might get gazumped by another family. Yes my friends, now starts the competition! It’s a word they used. So having waited a year and had meeting after meeting regarding the child, you may have to make that agonising trip home once again with out a nipper. I know they have the child’s best interest at heart, but Christ have a little bit of consideration for the people going through this Crap!

Oh and one more thing, this borough wanted us to consider the child having contact with the birth parents. So even though little Jonny’s Mother kept him locked in a shed while she conducted her business in the house. It a possibility they will insist on contact now and then…..That was it for me!

So I’m sorry if this paints a bleak picture, this was our first experience. Perhaps we were not ready to take this step just yet. Has it put me off? No! Because I still hope that somewhere out there, there is a little person who needs a family and I live in hope that one day we will all find each other. I can feel it!

It’s Time!

Doctors surgery age 14

Me: ‘Can you take my womb out please, it’s really irritating me!’

Doc: ‘NO.’

Me: ‘Dick Head!’

Doc: ‘Please leave.’

Me: ‘Fine! I’ll sniff some glue and suck it out with the vacuum cleaner!’

December 2010ish

I can honestly say that I have never been one of those women who longed for a baby. Small fury creatures were always much more appealing to me. Then something shifted.

It all started with a phone call to a friend.

‘Happy Birthday Jackie, do you fancy meeting for lunch?’

‘I am going to the hospital to get some more test results.’ she said

‘Is everything OK?’ I suddenly felt guilty, as we hadn’t seen each other for months.

‘My AMH levels are very low and I am scared that I might just have left it too late.’

‘What?’

‘So I’m telling all my friends to go and get tested.’

Tested!

‘Jack you’re scaring me, what’s AMH?’

‘It’s a test that lets you know how many eggs you have left in your ovarian reserve, my FSH levels are rubbish too.’

‘FSH? what the hell is that?’

‘It’s the follicle stimulating hormone, it’s the hormone you need to produce eggs.’

WTF…..HEAD EXPLODING!!!!!!!! make it go away… I just wanted to go out for a drink.

‘I feel like such an idiot, I was so arrogant, I just thought I’d get pregnant as soon as I decided I wanted to, but it’s not happening, I’m terrified I’ve left it too late.’

I didn’t know what to say, did I want to have kids? Maybe? We’d talked about it and then we’d forgotten about it, no real urgency but we were getting on a bit!!!!!!

For me it was all about getting the facts, I didn’t want to look back with regret, wishing that I’d done something about it, be reduced to dressing my cat up in baby clothes and pushing him around in a second-hand pram. My thinking was that knowing whether I could or couldn’t have a child would be a hell of a lot healthier in the long run than just wondering.  I was about to discover that I should have done it a little bit sooner. YOU THINK!

NHS hospital somewhere or other

So you sit for two hours in the waiting room, which is shared with the antenatal clinic, except that we are instructed to sit under a sign that reads:

chairs

I was a bit put out by this, as we hadn’t even had our results yet.

The women on my left looked at the sign and burst into tears. I picked up one of those overpriced toxic women’s magazines which was full of women of a certain age (Bloody hell that’s my age!) pouring their hearts out about how worthless they felt because they hadn’t Fucking got on with it!

When we finally got to see the consultant, it’s not the person we saw before. We could only under stand 20% of what she was saying … So we just caught the odd word like… ‘Large’ and ‘Surgery’ oh and ‘Cancer’ She can’t find my blood test results, which by the way is a test for ‘Cancer’ so she mumbles something about calling back in a week to get those, bearing in mind we had already waited 4 weeks not to mention the 6 months it took to get the Doctor to refer us in the first place… So give her a look that says ‘You better find them or I’ll shit in your handbag’ Thank God for body language. So she gets the hint leaves the room, comes back and then blames it on you because you have an apostrophe in your name, which is causing all manner of problems. ‘How about using my hospital number!’ I yell. So you sit there for another 20 minutes wishing you’d watched more Charlie brown then maybe your ear would perhaps be a bit more accommodating. Then she says you only have two options, ‘egg and spoon race’ or ‘crop rotation..…At least that’s what you think she said. We asked several questions but to no avail, as we couldn’t decipher her reply. We left feeling really helpless and frustrated. Good job there was a pub on the corner and look, it’s karaoke night!

Doctor’s surgery age 40ish 

Once upon a time I had the perfect NHS GP, he was down to earth, friendly, he got things done and quickly, he was always available. Things have changed, in the last few years since expanding his practice if you want to get an appointment with him on the NHS you either have to sleep in the rose-bush by the entrance the night before, or go in that morning without an appointment and feign a seizer. I am remarkably good at fainting on command I mastered it at school during tedious RE lessons. There’s only so many times you can empathise with that poor bloke being nailed to the cross, Jesus!

I prefered seeing him because I have had some less than ideal experiences with a lot of the other doctors at the practice.. I once went in to have a lump in my breast examined and the doctor I saw, rested his warm flabby stomach on my knees while he examined me, Yummy! That same doctor took a call on his mobile in the middle of my appointment and then waved me out of his surgery, saying ‘Don’t worry you’ll be fine.’ Oh I feel so much better now, I’m so glad I dragged my arse all the way here for that piece of wisdom.

After our disastrous experience getting the test results at the NHS sub-fertility clinic, I went to see my GP and explained to him that I couldn’t understand the consultant and he looked at me and said ‘Your not the first person to say this.’ he sat in front of me and wrote an email requesting the results so he could go through them with me.

Another 4 weeks later I called the surgery to see if the report was back… The insidious old hag on reception proceeded to tell me that they had come in 2 weeks ago.

WHAT! AND NOBODY CALLED ME!!

She said she would get the doctor to call me on Monday as he would be back from his holiday by then.

Monday came, I waited till 6pm that night, so after having waited 6 weeks for my initial results which were delivered by a consultant who quite frankly should have had subtitles appear beneath her, another 4 weeks to get the results back to my Doctor to be translated, I finally get the call from my Doctor, who said to me and I quote. ‘Dr Harris here what can I do for you?’ I was very angry by this stage, what could he do for me! Why don’t they read your file before they call you up. So I said  ‘I don’t know if you remember’…and I explained my situation once again… ‘Oh yes he said let me see, here it is, PAUSE………… your only option is egg donation or adoption, so now you know’ I was speechless, there was no compassion, no would you like to come in and discuss some options, nothing, and then he hung up.

So there we have it, we may never have a child, not one that we baked ourselves from our own ingredients; not even Jamie Oliver can help cook up this one!!

I would have been given more attention had I been an over weight smoker or a heroin addict, so I’m exploring the latter! I always wanted to try it I was just waiting for the right time, that time has come. Suddenly the incomprehensible consultant wasn’t looking so bad.

So I decided that if I couldn’t have a kid then a micro-pig would be an acceptable option. Your whole family decides to hold a meeting to address the situation, (in America they call it an intervention). They come over, bring food, talk about you like you’re not there, deciding what would be a fitting hobby for you to take up now that your life is going to be devoid of parent’s evening’s, extracting Lego parts from your kids nasal passages and removing porridge from the DVD box

So if you want to avoid the above.. Get on with it!

Next stop adoption!