IVF fun

So imperfect am I that it's taken me five years to write the next blog. Five years! Luckily for me I'm so OCD that I have only 3 possible passwords for any of my accounts. Which is how I managed to get back on this old one-post blog. Phew!

Update: my miracle ivf/icsi twins are now 5 years old. Actually, on precisely eight days they will be six. (They really are miraculous- they were conceived using spermatid and not sperm! Msg me for more info. It's a looooong story!)

Hubs, who I have taken to calling Jar over the years- it's a play on his name. He loves it - and I decided to try for a last time for more kids.

We have our miracles so I wasn't too stressed as I was the first time round. But it's still nerve-wracking.
We started the whole ICSI/IVF process in April. We are now in June. Two months. And the Clear Blue test says pregnant 1-2 weeks! The word "pregnant" only stays for 24 hours and I did the test two nights ago. I really should throw it away. But I can't.  Because it once said "pregnant". Although now it's just blank. But i know it once said pregnant 😏 According to the package insert this means I am 3-4 weeks along. Apparently with IVF you have to add two weeks to the implantation date. But it's still terrifying.
I don't think I really believe that I'm pregnant. I don't feel any differently. No nausea. No sore boobs.  The only thing is that I don't need to suck in my belly in because I'm "pregnant"...though technically I wouldn't start to show till 4 months or so. Haha! But I do feel very bloated. I read online that it's from all the Progesterone pessaries I have to take.

 I think im also not believing it because I've been spotting. I didn't spot like this last time. So I'm making the cross-border drive to my fertility clinic tomorrow. It's a long journey. Eight hours, with a stop halfway through, to see my mum before I actually cross the border. There they'll do all the necessary blood tests and perhaps a scan. Why don't I just do everything in my home town, you may wonder? Because bitter experience has taught me that whatever you do, don't get sick or need a doctor here. The word "butchers" comes to mind.

I'm terrified out of my mind. But I need to know that everything is OK. I don't want to even go to the loo because I can't bear to see any red. I don't even want to fart! So I need to just know. Although today when I phoned the clinic to tell them I am spotting and worried, the nurse told me to start putting the pessaries in my bum. Joy! Just when I thought it couldn't get any more charming.

I'm not going with Jar because the kids have school and Jar has work. It's only me and a driver. We'll be travelling in my bus though...lots of stretching room. I'll be lying down most of the time reading my book and napping. With lots of snacks. I somehow feel better going on my own. Much as I love Jar, I'll be tripping over him if he were to come with me. No, best he stay at home and man the fort.