Impasse

I'm shit at updating blogs.

I'm tentatively emerging from a pretty crap couple of weeks, it has to be said, where i feared I was heading for a meltdown of epic proportions again. I put my feelings down to a number of things:

- A letter from the fertility clinic explaining just how bad DH's sperm analysis was... less than 1% morphology, only 1.6 million sperm per 10ml when the average is 40 million.
- A sudden flurry of pregnancies at work. I mean, literally every woman of child bearing age in that place is waving a bump in my face, it seems!
- My blood results came back satisfactory, or normal.
- I've started to work out just how long i've been trying, and how many people who started trying a looooong time after i did, are now pregnant.
- DH decided that, because DD is at a 'difficult' age, the 2 mcs were probably blessings in disguise, and that actually, he isnt sure he wants another child.

DH is being very defensive, now telling me that as my blood results are normal, i'm 'obviously' going to blame him for my mcs...I've never blamed him, just encouraged him to take multi vits (this is a guy who works night shifts, doesnt eat fruit OR veg, doesn't exercise; in fact the only thing going for his sperm is that he doesnt drink or smoke!)

So it's been a period of uncertainty to say the least. Friends are starting to ask where we are going from here. The answer is, i just don't know. This year is a huge stumbling block to begin with...i dont want to make any decisions until 2013 has safely fucked off for good. Start to finish its been sullied with horrible memories.

Suffice to say, we reached a fairly mutual decision that at 32, i have a little time on my side, and a good idea would be to stop ttc for a few months, then see how i feel about carrying on ttc, or sticking with one child. This decision hasnt been easy, and i still feel stabs of envy at seeing other pregnant women, and the friends surrounding me who are pregnant. One day at a time.

Shite couple of days

I should know not to speak too soon.

After being pleasantly surprised that I was feeling 'normal' (as per my last post), the last few days have been pretty shitty to say the least, and have started to sour my good mood somewhat. It all started with a letter from the private fertility clinic that had started to run tests before my last bfp and subsequent MMC. DH did a sperm test a few days before our good news, and it was last week we got, in writing, the bad results. So how the hell i've been managing to get pregnant is a mystery to me.   It's like 2 miracles happened and then my body decided to fuck it all up. We've been recommended to freeze DH's sperm 'just in case' it deteriorates further, but this assumes we will want to pursue ICSI or IVF, and y'know, i'm just not sure i'm up for that.

Then, on the very same letter, a big list of all the possible tests i need for recurrent MC. Some will (hopefully) be done by the NHS, but if you've been reading my last few posts, you'll know how useless my doctor is, and, it seems he can't even get my blood over to be tested at the hospital without it clotting en route. So, that's where we stand at the moment.

Added to all that bullshit, my work is like Preggo fucking city. I spend my days furtively glancing round corners and rushing from one spot to the next in the hope I don't have to bump (scuse the pun) into any of them, and/or overhear any of their bollocks. Don't ask me why, but in the midst of all this pissedoffness, I decided it was a good idea to log back into my Facebook after a two month break 'just to see the gossip'. BIG FUCKING MISTAKE. Not only were the same people banging on about the same old shit, but literally EVERYONE is pregnant. EVERYONE! So I quickly deactivated my account yet again after a few moments of sado masochism.

In another fantastic example of self love, I went to a family party I promised myself I wouldn't (because DH's heavily pregnant cousin, who conveniently got pregnant at the time of my first mc, would be there). Luckily I was saved somewhat by my skinny SIL, who proceeded to mention (with genuine disgust) at every given opportunity how 'hideously fat' DH's cousin now was. Cruel I know, but I needed the laugh. Upon leaving the party, DH's cousin came over to say goodbye and I managed to somehow escape without having to go near her. Although, in hindsight, she will probably have noticed that it was quite deliberate. Ah well.

Feel better already for my mega bitch rant. This has to be a record for how many swear words I can get into a blog post. Merry fucking Christmas!