Running to Stand Still

I drove down for my embryo transfer by myself, on the 1st September. When I got back, Mr TC had gone to the nursery and bought a beautiful spring blossom. Here he is planting it on that day, he told me that "It can implant, the same day you can," or something equally romantic. Such a lovely gesture - I love him so, so much. He has no idea of the existence of this blog.

I only have one prayer to Universe lately - that my baby doesn't miscarry from the amnio. I've always been freaked about amnios. Here I sit, nearing the end of a torturous two-week wait of a different kind, counting down the sleeps to go. (2). Just bring it on already. I have made myself quite comfortable in my bed of fear, grown used to feeling the panic and worry rise in me every morning I get up. That's all very familiar to me, from when I lived my different life many moons ago, but it's interesting to see how easy it is living with shit feelings all the time again.

I saw a new, improved, different doctor yesterday, for a routine appointment at the maternity clinic. He was really lovely, and actually listened to me talk. He told me to try not to worry so much; that the stats for m/c after amnio are much lower now; that there really is a small chance that something may be wrong. He booked me in to see him in three weeks, and was so certain about it that I felt certain too. Until I looked at my yellow appointment card later, to see he had written HIGH RISK TRISONOMY 21 in big, big letters right at the top of it. I am planning on scribbling that out next week, once I get the all clear. But, we can plan on many things, can't we?

Thing about stats is, someone has to be on the wrong side of them. I don't think it will be me - but why not me? Why anyone? I wish I had never done the nuchal scan. There's something to be said for having too much information. Because now I am faced with such big decisions. And is it not selfish of me to put my baby at risk, just to put my fears to rest? Just so I know? I feel like running into the woods and living there for the next 6 months, and giving birth alone in the forest (a VBAC, no less!!) with only the wild animals baying at the moon to keep me company. I feel like shouting at all of the male dickheads in the medical profession I have met so far "Pregnancy is not a disease to be treated!!" I feel like jumping up and down and getting people to realise how much stress and worry false positive results can be. If men gave birth, I bet a whole lot of tests and statistics would be upgraded - or non-existent.

During a freakout moment, Mr TC was *trying* to make me feel better, dismissing all of my fears as bullshit. I wasn't cranky - I just said "Ok hon, let's see. I wonder how you would feel if you had all the hormones swirling around? If it was your body this was happening to? If you went through all the crap of IVF, only to be labelled high risk just after the first trimester when you were feeling great for the first time in ages? How do you think you would feel?"

Next week I'm going to see the film "The Business of Being Born", which I think Rikki Lake made. Even though it will have an American perspective, I'm sure Aussies down here can relate to a lot of things. I still can't quite believe that my local hospital don't do VBACs, and if I chose to try to deliver a VBAC I'd have to travel to a hospital over an hour away. Where they would "allow" me to labour for 3 hours - and then perform a caesar anyway! All this intervention - but then again, isn't IVF the biggest intervention of all?

Phew. I will post again after the amnio. (Ohhh - deja vu!) Let's hope this time they actually do the freakin procedure this time and don't tell me to come back again next week.

See you on the other side xoxoxxo