I started my course of IVF by going on the pill. Yes, that's right, the contraceptive pill. They put you on that to stop you ovulating and get your cycle in synch with the laboratory. I was on the pill for 21 days. I started taking it on 13 October (2nd day of my cycle) and took the last one on 3 November, as per instructions from the clinic.
On 28 October, I started injecting myself with 40ml of Buserelin each morning. This drug is designed to "down-regulate" my system. In other words, shut down my reproductive system and put me into chemically-induced menopause. Sure enough, I've been having hot flushes and crying a lot. I think the reason for down-regulating me is so that I don't ovulate before the time they want me to. Some of this stuff is really confusing and I still haven't got my head around it.
Anyway, last night I started another injection. It's called Gonal F and what it does is start stimulating the hormones that will make my ovaries produce follicles with eggs in them. Usually every month a woman produces one egg. This Gonal F is supposed to make me produce more than one. The more the better as far as I know, because the more eggs you've got the more chance of getting an embryo in the end when you mix it up with the sperm.
So from now on I'm having two injections a day. Buserelin in the morning and Gonal F at night. I had a blood test the other day which showed that the Buserelin is doing what it's supposed to. My system is down-regulated. I've got another blood test coming up this Tuesday to see if the Gonal F is working. I have no reason to think it isn't, so I should be on track for egg collection, which is scheduled for the week beginning 26 November. Nobody knows the date for sure. I suppose it will depend on the results of blood tests and scans. The eggs have to be collected when they're ripe, but before they burst from their follicles and are lost forever.
My word, this is tricky. I can only hope the experts at the clinic know what they're doing.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Starting IVF at 38
I might as well start somewhere. I've been meaning to start a blog about this for some time - but I just haven't felt like facing it. Coming to grips with my infertility has been hard. Deciding to give up my power to a bunch of embriologists in a lab has been harder.
I'm 38 now. My husband and I have been trying to start a family since we got married, when I was 32 and he was 36. It seemed like the perfect time to start, even though to some people it might seem like we'd left it a bit too long already.
My mother was 39 when she had me. I always said I wouldn't be an "old" mother like her. 32 would have been a good age to have the first child, then the next one, we figured, at 34. We set to work straight away, charting ovulation, taking temperatures, eating well, getting plenty of sleep and exercise, taking folic acid supplements and timing everything just right.
When a couple of years went by and we still hadn't conceived, I was getting concerned. In fact, I was getting concerned after the first year - but I think subconciously neither of us wanted to admit that we suspected there might be a problem. It's a pretty scary thing to think about.
In the end, though, we decided we'd better consult someone. First port of call, I figured, was my GP. I had a new GP who I'd never seen before. I live in rural Far North New Zealand and we have a rural medical clinic that a GP visits once a week. I made an appointment to see him.
He was American. That's only significant because when looking back I suspect that he was on one of those "work experience" jobs where you go to far-reaching parts of the world and work in small medical centres as part of your training. Anyway, I went to this guy and told him we'd been trying to conceive for two years without success. He told me that what I needed to do was relax. He suggested I buy a juicer, as juice is healthy and if I'm healthy and relaxed I'll be fine. He also mentioned that even if there was some physical reason for my inability to conceive, there'd be nothing I could do about anyway it unless I moved to a city where options were available. What a wally. As it turned out, his advice was old-fashioned, uninformed and just simply ridiculous. Unfortunately, I didn't realise that at the time and took his word for it. He left soon after and went back to America.
Three years later, having still not conceived despite trying every month and doing everything correctly, in desparation we decided I should go back to the doctor. This time there was a new doctor at the clinic. This doctor was young, local and competent. When I told him I'd been trying to conceive for five years, he immediately referred me to a gynaecologist to have some tests done. The test resulsts (which took two months to arrive) revealed that both my fallopian tubes were blocked. There was no way I would have been able to conceive naturally. This news was devastating. The news, by the way, was not revealed to me by the gynaecologist who originally did the test, but by a trainee gynaecologist from England. This person, after giving me the diagnosis, told me that there were two options now open to me. First option: I could have an operation to attempt to open the tubes. This operation may or may not be successful. If the operation is successful, that doesn't mean the tubes will stay open. The only other option would be IVF, but, the trainee gynaecologist told me, I wouldn't be eligible for public funding because of my age (I was now 37) and the cost of having IVF privately would be prohibitive. What I didn't know was that this trainee from another country had no clue about public funding in New Zealand and was mistaken. It took me another year to approach a fertility specialist and find out I that was, in fact, most certainly eligible for public funding. The ironic thing is that by this time the public funding list was so long that the reality now is that by the time my name comes to the top of the list I might no longer be eligible for public funding due to my age.
Anyway, not knowing this at the time and, once again, trusting a professional, I opted for the operation to try to open my tubes. I had that operation in June 2007. We tried again to conceive in the months of July, August, September and October and decided it wasn't working, time was running out and we needed to move on to IVF, even if it meant using up all our savings. We made an appointment with Dr Richard Fisher at Fertlity Associates in Auckland. This guy is the "grandfather of IVF in New Zealand". He and his colleagues at Fertility Associates apparently founded IVF treatment in this country. Immediately upon meeting him it became obvious that he knew what he was doing. After asking a few questions he told me that I was, indeed, eligible for public funding of one, if not two, cycles of IVF. The only catch was that the waiting list was over a year (I found out later close to two years) long.
My feelings at this stage are bordering on a kind of bitter resentment. I don't feel good about having those feelings and I'm going to try to get over it because bitterness and resentment aren't good for anybody. It's just that I can't help thinking about what might have happened if, back when I was still 34, that American doctor had sent me for tests instead of saying there was nothing he could do to help me. I would have definitely been eligible for public funding of IVF at that age. Not only that, but the chances of IVF succeeding for a 34-year-old are infinitely better than for a 38-year-old. Anyway it doesn't matter now. I can't turn back the clock and things are what they are.
I'm 38 now. My husband and I have been trying to start a family since we got married, when I was 32 and he was 36. It seemed like the perfect time to start, even though to some people it might seem like we'd left it a bit too long already.
My mother was 39 when she had me. I always said I wouldn't be an "old" mother like her. 32 would have been a good age to have the first child, then the next one, we figured, at 34. We set to work straight away, charting ovulation, taking temperatures, eating well, getting plenty of sleep and exercise, taking folic acid supplements and timing everything just right.
When a couple of years went by and we still hadn't conceived, I was getting concerned. In fact, I was getting concerned after the first year - but I think subconciously neither of us wanted to admit that we suspected there might be a problem. It's a pretty scary thing to think about.
In the end, though, we decided we'd better consult someone. First port of call, I figured, was my GP. I had a new GP who I'd never seen before. I live in rural Far North New Zealand and we have a rural medical clinic that a GP visits once a week. I made an appointment to see him.
He was American. That's only significant because when looking back I suspect that he was on one of those "work experience" jobs where you go to far-reaching parts of the world and work in small medical centres as part of your training. Anyway, I went to this guy and told him we'd been trying to conceive for two years without success. He told me that what I needed to do was relax. He suggested I buy a juicer, as juice is healthy and if I'm healthy and relaxed I'll be fine. He also mentioned that even if there was some physical reason for my inability to conceive, there'd be nothing I could do about anyway it unless I moved to a city where options were available. What a wally. As it turned out, his advice was old-fashioned, uninformed and just simply ridiculous. Unfortunately, I didn't realise that at the time and took his word for it. He left soon after and went back to America.
Three years later, having still not conceived despite trying every month and doing everything correctly, in desparation we decided I should go back to the doctor. This time there was a new doctor at the clinic. This doctor was young, local and competent. When I told him I'd been trying to conceive for five years, he immediately referred me to a gynaecologist to have some tests done. The test resulsts (which took two months to arrive) revealed that both my fallopian tubes were blocked. There was no way I would have been able to conceive naturally. This news was devastating. The news, by the way, was not revealed to me by the gynaecologist who originally did the test, but by a trainee gynaecologist from England. This person, after giving me the diagnosis, told me that there were two options now open to me. First option: I could have an operation to attempt to open the tubes. This operation may or may not be successful. If the operation is successful, that doesn't mean the tubes will stay open. The only other option would be IVF, but, the trainee gynaecologist told me, I wouldn't be eligible for public funding because of my age (I was now 37) and the cost of having IVF privately would be prohibitive. What I didn't know was that this trainee from another country had no clue about public funding in New Zealand and was mistaken. It took me another year to approach a fertility specialist and find out I that was, in fact, most certainly eligible for public funding. The ironic thing is that by this time the public funding list was so long that the reality now is that by the time my name comes to the top of the list I might no longer be eligible for public funding due to my age.
Anyway, not knowing this at the time and, once again, trusting a professional, I opted for the operation to try to open my tubes. I had that operation in June 2007. We tried again to conceive in the months of July, August, September and October and decided it wasn't working, time was running out and we needed to move on to IVF, even if it meant using up all our savings. We made an appointment with Dr Richard Fisher at Fertlity Associates in Auckland. This guy is the "grandfather of IVF in New Zealand". He and his colleagues at Fertility Associates apparently founded IVF treatment in this country. Immediately upon meeting him it became obvious that he knew what he was doing. After asking a few questions he told me that I was, indeed, eligible for public funding of one, if not two, cycles of IVF. The only catch was that the waiting list was over a year (I found out later close to two years) long.
My feelings at this stage are bordering on a kind of bitter resentment. I don't feel good about having those feelings and I'm going to try to get over it because bitterness and resentment aren't good for anybody. It's just that I can't help thinking about what might have happened if, back when I was still 34, that American doctor had sent me for tests instead of saying there was nothing he could do to help me. I would have definitely been eligible for public funding of IVF at that age. Not only that, but the chances of IVF succeeding for a 34-year-old are infinitely better than for a 38-year-old. Anyway it doesn't matter now. I can't turn back the clock and things are what they are.
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