Charlie's Bird
living the dream with Charlie and Thandi and chirping all the way back to the nest.Archive for infertility
Back again
…I had all sorts of intentions to write while I was await, but alas, we all know that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
So, on Friday, a road trip. We hit the road, arrived in Gqebereha, checked in on a work duty for Charlie, and then hit the cycling stores. While most things were totally out of my price range, it was nice to see what things are out there and to see a slightly wider range of stuff. We did manage to find some mountain biking pants for Charlie and I got some cold weather gear. And then we were off again. Travelling along the incredible R62 towards the Meiringspoort and Prince Albert.
The Meiringspoort is an incredible pass, and is completely breathtaking, (cape fold) mountains tower above, and the road wends its way essentially along a river course. It is just incredible! And as we drove through a small lump in my throat exploded out of my eyes, as I was overwhelmed with memories of the last road trip I did with my parents (at the age of 30!). Unrealised by me at the time, I had plotted a similar trip to that one. Recalling their awe, remembering being a kid in the car with them again… The sorrow and grief was strong. But in a good way. Even arriving in Prince Albert had tears flooding again. Ah, how my dad loved a road trip… on that last trip I did with them, we left home and our route was Addo Elephant Park – Prince Albert – Sutherland – Tulbagh – Franschoek – Hermanus. I left them at that stage as I had to get back to work, but they continued their holiday in Hermanus with my brother for another week. Good memories, that make me even more determined to make lasting ones with Thandi.
We stayed at the Yellow House in Prince Albert, owned by ex home town friends of ours – rustic, homely and warm! Ah, what a treat. It was lovely to catch up with them and to see what they are getting up to there. A small farm, cottages and plans for a restaurant and a deli and a boutique! The only negative was that on Saturday night the power went down in the town, and we were without for more than 24 hours. In the Karoo, in winter – not the best. But, we made do with a roaring fire and lots of card games! Since the whole country was on level 4 lockdown things were a bit sad – restaurants were obviously all closed to sit down meals, the Saturday market was markedly diminished and there was a hint of desperation around. The poverty in some of the surrounding areas is palpable.
Anyway, so what did we do while we were there – not a whole lot. I ran and cycled and read my book. We walked the town on Saturday, popping in at little shops, explored the (slightly sad and dusty) market, picked up some delicious lamb from the local butchery for a braai that evening. We had sundowners in the Swartberg Mountains, watched the town from the water reservoir and just enjoyed each others company. In the crazy of our normal life we don’t often get a chance to do that. We ate well, drank some good wine and recharged those batteries.
All too soon, our time was up, and we climbed into the car and headed east again, back towards Addo. I negotiated a chance to cycle through that Meiringpoort again – a complete adrenalin rush. I loved it, although it was freezing!!!!
Then we wended our way to Addo. There is a little road that heads east from Willowmore – it is a strip road – a small strip of concrete, enough for only one car. Thankfully it is a long straight road and you can see for miles ahead, so no real surprises, but when a car approaches (or a truck thunders towards you), each vehicle moves to its left, keeping one set of wheels on the strip and the other goes into the dirt alongside and then once you’ve passed one another, back onto the single strip. Quite a novel experience! (by the way, if you ever find yourself in Willowmore, there is a lovely shop of all trades in the main road (there aren’t many more roads) – restaurant, takeaway, bar, wool and haberdashery shop, handbags, pet shop, a few bits of clothing, children’s toys, home decor, odds and sods – we had a good browse and a heavenly toasted sarmie from them with some seriously strong coffee for our breakfast break)
Addo never fails to delight! We arrived at our guest house quite late and then quickly shot into the park for an hour and a bit of a drive – we didn’t see too many animals, but caught a large bull elephant on his way to the watering hole, so accompanied him for a bit. The sun was setting, the views were incredible! After a quick dinner (thankfully restaurants were now open) we hunkered down as a cold front hit the Eastern Cape. The next morning was fresh, and after a lovely breakfast we headed back to the park – the park has northern and southern part – the last time we visited the southern part was not open to the elephants yet, and so was quite overgrown and quiet. Now (more than 10 years later) the southern part is where all the action is! Elephants, buffalo, antelope, zebras… Just awesome! We didn’t manage to spot the lions, but, who knows, we possibly drove past them and just didn’t spot them. Thandi enjoyed the action of seeing the animals, not so much the hours of driving around in between… Ah, well, kids these days need to learn to be a bit bored, don’t they?
And before we knew it we were home again. And another weekend of running and cycling, seeing friends and eating too much good food!
Mixed weekend
…from highs to lows, my daughter had them all this weekend. So we had arranged that our Noxy’s daughter came to spend the weekend with us – it had been her birthday this last week, so it was for a bit of a celebration for the 2 of them. We wrapped her present up, I made some quick party packs, and on Saturday morning (after buying a new oven – more on that later…) we fetched her from the taxi rank. Oh, what excitement, what a cute reunion. They really are a bit like sisters, Litha and Thandi – having lived together for 3 years! And they had a fabulous day – colouring in tackies (have you seen them, so cool!), watching the ballet show on DVD, playing, building, colouring, pizza with friends… so much fun. Sunday started somewhat subdued, I think they both knew what was coming – after breakfast, we dropped Litha back off with her mum. They seemed ok, I guess, at that stage the high of the visit was still there; but by last night, oh dear, the tears, and the heartache. I sobbed with my little lady. It is so hard to watch her experience the loss again – and now with more understanding – in the morning Litha would be heading off to her own school, and it will be many weeks before they see each other again. Oh, my poor girl.
It’s at times like this that I think about how different my little family would look with another child; and then my heart aches all over again…
Revisiting old feelings
…so last year when we decided to put a hold on trying for a second babe and focus on the running, the plan always was to review where we found ourselves after the marathon.
And I’m here now, and I’m not quite sure where I stand. Realistically I know it’s over, but the heart doesn’t always listen to logic…
Watching Thandi on holiday, so desperate for the French kids to notice her and play with her. Seeing her follow other children around in Disneyland, copying them, hoping they would just interact, my heart crumbled a little more. Do I owe her one more shot? Can I do it? Do I have it in me? I think I know the answer…
The longing will never go away, I suspect.
Thandi’s cycle tour
…was so sweet! She was entered in a 1.5km cycle on Saturday afternoon, but given that she is really not a very confidant cyclist, it was quite a thing. Charlie and I had to run along with her, and most of the time I had to steer to keep her out of the gutter. But despite coming second last, she is so pleased that she ‘won’ and got a medal. Sweet girl!
Before the race, getting ready.
Posing with her friend Charlotte. (Charlotte is nearly 6, so had a fast easier ride than T)
With her Daddy, pedalling away! (with no one really visible around her anymore…)
So Saturday really was quite a day, a half marathon for me, a cycle tour for T. I even posed the question on Twitter that evening, if I took a bath, would it count as a triathlon? We finished the evening with a delicious dinner out with our friends, as we were all loadshat, A really fun filled busy day!
So tired
I am so tired. Tired of being sad, tired of feeling like something is missing, tired of this brokenness in me…
I miss the second child I will never have, and I am overwhelming sad for Thandi. She of course doesn’t know what she is missing. I don’t really know what she is missing, my brothers were at boarding school when I was born, and were out the house growing up, being soldiers and students when I was starting out at school, but I know she is missing something good. Knowing how much joy Thandi has given me, how she has filled my heart to overflowing, I am so sad I don’t get more of that. I’m still fairly pissed off with the cards life has dealt me. I mean, an OBGYN with infertility – come on! Most days I am able to make my peace. Today I am just too tired.
I don’t think it will ever go away entirely, the longing, but I can come to terms with the fact that I gave motherhood a hell of a shot. I did more than many woman can or would do. I am, as always, very aware of how blessed I am to have my Thandigirl (before anyone accuses me of not counting my blessings). I just wish I could shake that tired old sad feeling deep within…
Journey’s end
…yesterday marked the end of my journey to baby number 2. I am strangely devastated. For a long time I have really struggled with my menstrual cycle, and yesterday, after too many days of pain, too many interrupted night’s sleep, I have had a mir*ena fitted, in the hopes that it slows down the progression of the endometriosis and adenomyosis. But what it also means is that any further attempts at a pregnancy are over.
I thought I would ok, I know the fabulous Dr DB had said come for one more IVF that I was very reluctant to undertake, but the door was still open. I knew I couldn’t go through that door at the moment – the September run in Cape Town, our holiday at Umngazi, my dad’s scheduled hip replacement (next week) and the clinic’s Christmas break had all meant that this year was probably a non starter. And then there was Paris to consider… So I have to say, honestly my head knew I probably wasn’t going to get to that last IVF. But my heart could still dream a little dream. But that’s over now; with a swoop of a speculum and a pinch of a tenaculum, the dream bubble has popped…
I vacillate between absolutely fine about my 1 child family, to a tearing desperation that threatens to rip my heart wide open. And I am so very afraid of decisions that I may regret. I have never felt more isolated by this decision.
I understand given time I will be just fine, but right now it hurts unspeakably.
Post operative musings
…so my recovery has been fairly smooth. Today I went to gym, managed 20 minutes on the treadmill (was a bit uncomfortable though) and it felt great to get the heart rate up and use the legs. I don’t recall how much info I have given, so here we go, I’ll rehash it all. In 2010 I had a laparoscopy as part of my infertility work up. At the time I was diagnosed with grade 2 endometriosis, involving my uterus and ovaries, bladder, ureter (pipe between kidney and bladder) and my colon, mainly on the right. Obviously after that we went ahead with numerous IVF’s and had a Caesar for Thandi, so lots more interventions; finishing off with that spectacular haemtoma after my last attempted IVF cycle last year. Since then I have struggled with significant pain and things have been definitely ‘not well’ in my pelvis. Eventually the decision was taken (and definitely not lightly) to have another look at things. I managed to convince my doctor to wait until after Knysna, and so last Tuesday, off we went, back to hospital.
So this time last week(+ 1 day) I awoke to the news that there was more endometriosis, involving mainly the left, and sitting in areas which would have made me sore, and that there was a lot of scar tissue, from all the IVF treatments, from the haematoma, from the endometriosis itself… My doctor has now cleaned things up again, so hopefully I improve. But, he has planted a seed… He reckons 1 more cycle, 1 more chance, a teensy bit of hope… And I just don’t know if I can do that to myself again…
Tick tock
…as the clock runs out on this deadline we set for a pregnancy, I’ve had a lot of thoughts about it all lately. I guess the overriding emotion I have is gratitude. Gratitude for the thing of perfection that climbs onto my lap after a long day, and tells me she loves me, that I mustn’t be sad, that I’m her best mommy. But there is a little part of me that is so damn tired of trying to justify why I want another.
Yesterday I was in the difficult position of having to deliver an unwanted child. Initially the mom-to-be considered a termination of pregnancy, but the idea didn’t sit comfortably with her. Then she considered adoption, but that flew in the face of her partner’s beliefs. So now, this little baby has been born into an uncertain situation, with no one really wanting him, but no one brave enough to make a decision. At the same time, I have a patient going through a terrible pregnancy loss at the age of 40 with probably not enough time to consider another. Fucking hell, it’s all a little unfair.
How damaged we are at the end of these journeys we are on… each of them is unique, but we emerge battle scarred and bruised. I’m almost ready to retire injured, my heart is sore today.
And it rains!
…and it’s cooler, thank heavens! After 2 weeks of ridiculous heat and humidity – how we functioned and slept, I’m not sure, it has now cooled down. The rain began yesterday afternoon and hasn’t really stopped. What a pleasure! It’s also means we are going to have a lovely cool weekend in the mountains. I am looking forward to that!
In other news, my body continues to flummox me and my doctor. Day 1 arrived a week early this month, and my scan does not correlate with this event, so we are stumped. I’ve had to do blood tests to try to figure it all out. All this confusion in the body is, as they say is the best of British reality TV, ‘doing my ‘ed in’. I, obviously, still believe in miracles and wonder, and honestly believe that it is possible for me to become pregnant again; but (and it’s a big but) I’m beginning to wonder if the cost – emotional and physical – is now getting to high. I have been a very good patient over the last 4 years, but I am really battling now. I really am tired of this feeling of dread and stress that I am forced to live with – dread because of what complications will I go through this month, stress because I am battling to plan anything – weekends away, runs, family time – and I am a control freak, I need to be in control. I’m also really tired of trying to justify why I want another child. I just do. Normally fertile people never have to justify these things, why should I? And I know, believe me, quite how blessed I am to have Thandipants in my world. She rocks!
Ai, another whiny whingey post, sorry, I am so damn frustrated…
Damn ovaries
…that don’t want to play ball anymore! I’ve sneakily been stimulating since day 2, and have hit that proverbial wall again – I had a few eggs, they started to grow, and then they quit on me. So there we go – cancelled again.
Charlie's Bird 