Sunday, 3 October 2010

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

Regrets, I've had a few. Just few enough to mention:
  • Just about every haircut I have ever had. Luckily it grows, so no long term worries there.
  • Picking scabs on my legs as a child. I still have the scars - that, and my unfeasibly short legs, put an end to any ambitions I harboured as a leg model.
  • Not picking up on the small print about being liable for freeholder repairs when we purchased our flat - the eventual bill was the same as the price of my first flat. Literally. Gulp.
  • Staying at a job I hated for two years, rather than quitting it after 2 weeks when I realised it wasn't for me and if I stayed any longer I would be reduced to a weeping, quivering wreck. (I was, it wasn't pretty).
  • Picking the Etruscan module rather than Greek Literature in my final year at Uni. (No long term impact for this, but I'd already studied most of the texts for A Level, so missed an easy ride there).
  • Not asking my Mum how she made her lamb and mint casserole. I have never been able to recreate that dish.
All of these things I had absolute control over and I made a wrong decision. And I've regretted it. There are other worse things that have happened that were beyond my control, that I wish hadn't happened but I had no power over them, so therefore no regret.

Sorrow. But not regret.

It is for this reason that I am being so extreme about my pre-IVF plan. Realistically I don't think that the total abstinence of booze, or tea, is going to have a dramatic effect on my fertility. I am slightly dubious as to whether my weekly yoga class does anything other than hammer home just how unsupple I have become in the last ten years since I practiced yoga regularly. And I have to stifle a giggle sometimes, when my acupuncturist starts getting too overexcited about aligning energy or some such nonsense.

If, when the coil is removed in November, I am not deemed suitable for IVF, or have IVF and it fails, I don't want to be able to blame myself for any of it. I don't want to look back and wish I had done something differently.

And so far I feel relatively at ease with how I have played this hand I've been dealt. Sure, I wish I had pushed more for appointments and investigations and compressed the last four years into two. But generally I feel OK.

I don't even, not seriously, wish we had started trying for a child earlier. My infertility doesn't seem to be age related (yet). The husband and I have been together since we were teenagers, but we didn't rush into procreation, we started trying when we were both genuinely ready.

If we had started earlier I would have spent my twenties checking ovulation tests, abstaining from booze and saving for potential IVF. Instead my twenties were a time when I enjoyed living in London. I went out too late, I made friends who will be friends for life, I visited foreign countries, I clambered, in an ungainly manner, up the career ladder. And I had no idea that conception would prove so illusive.

Ignorance truly was bliss.

I don't regret that for a moment.

And I will do whatever I can to ensure that what comes next won't be a source of regret in the future.


15 comments:

  1. You'll be in my thoughts!!! This IF stuff is so frustrating because on one hand you feel like you have NO control over it, but on the other you beat yourself up over what you should or should not have done. It's all so frustrating! ((hugs))

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  2. er, precisely when did you stay out too late?? I have always been able to rely on you being ready for home/bed before me...(and I'm weak)

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  3. It is bliss indeed in so many situations. hugs

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  4. As a very late bloomer, I don't regret anything (well, except for wasting my 20s on a loser. That was unfortunate. I'm sure I learned something though). You've gotta take what you can get, when you can get it.

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  5. Moi aussi. I think anyway.

    Regret is such a gut-wrencher - it's really great you can be at peace with your choices. Good on you.

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  6. Here's hoping you have happines, and no regret.

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  8. Thanks for sharing this. It's a very good point actually... I do wonder whether the coffee is the reason. Not that I really believe it, but I've never looked at it from the "no regrets" point of view.
    Also, I need a haircut.

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  9. I went in to IVF with the exact same attitude. The acupuncture, the herbs, the abstinence of booze, caffeine (and fun in general, it seemed). I'm not convinced those things had any actual impact on the outcome, but I knew I couldn't look back and wonder, What if? Good luck in November!

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  10. You are taking the smartest possible approach to things. Who knows if tea and booze make a difference? I often wonder. But this way you know that you have covered every base you can. (And I have to believe that this does make an impact, both on body and head...which then impacts body all over again).

    Amen to enjoying one's twenties. A time for every season. Truly.

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  11. You have such willpower! I really admire that.

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  12. I found my critical faculties went a bit haywire during the ivf maelstrom. Someone on a message board said orange was a good colour to wear as it signified fertility to some culture or other. I almost bought an orange tshirt to wear for egg retrieval time before I came to my senses. Like you I did all the other things - copious water, acupuncture etc and down to one cup of coffee.

    I do still regret not starting a bit earlier but then again maybe we wouldn't have been able to take the strain in our twenties. We certainly couldn't have afforded it as easily.

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  13. I regret a lot of things in my past as well. Best wishes to you for November! Blessings!

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  14. I regret a great deal. I wish I had been wiser at 21. Hell, I wish I'd been wiser at 30. I totally understand the desire, the NEED, to be able to look back on this and be able to say 'well, I did my very best.'

    You know my fingers are always crossed for you.

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