Tuesday, 24 February 2015


I was grinning as I left the clinic this morning.

My scan showed everything is good. My ovaries are quiet and womb lining thin. Great for now, I have no doubt in about two weeks time I'll be on here bemoaning the fact that my womb lining is still thin and failed to plump up - but for the time being this is a good thing.

As I left clutching my next set of instructions (start the blood thinners and oestrogen) I felt overwhelmingly positive about this cycle.

In fact I was so up beat with the nurse this morning I behaved like an utter tool. I whipped out my phone, showed her a picture of Olive and said "If you could sort me out another one like that, that'd be perfect."

I know.

What a dick!

I was trying to workout why I am so positive.

Admittedly, in the past, I've had the best possible result. But prior to that I've had masses of failures. Forgetting the months when I've ovulated, sexed (yes it's a real word) and not got pregnant, and the IUIs where I've failed to become enpregulated (also a real word, trust me), I've have three fresh rounds of IVF and two frozen embryo transfers. I've had nine viable-looking embryos put back in to an environment where they should thrive and have just one prime specimen snuffling away in her sleep upstairs as I write.

But it all feels so possible.

So exciting.

I've booked in for my magic intralipid drip next week and the embryo - conceived at the same time as Olive - is the same grade that she was should be put back in two weeks.

If a Postive Mental Attitude was all that was required I'd be about to give octomom a run for her money.


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