Firstly, before you wonder what the beans on toast photo means…read on. I promise it will become clear.
I try not to write my blog like a diary, but tonight I just can’t resist. Tomorrow is our long awaited first appointment at a private fertility clinic. It has been a long time coming and I’ll tell you why…
We have managed to have lots of the preliminary tests done, mainly because I’ve harassed the Doctors so much. I have been on the case about our fertility problems and my unusual cycles for while. I have been convinced that something hasn’t been quite right since we started ttc and it has kept me persevering and (I’m not ashamed to admit it) pestering. So when I say this is our first appointment, it’s our first with a fertility consultant at a fertility clinic about our fertility issues.
What’s been going on then?
We had our very first appointment with an NHS fertility clinic last year. We didn’t get to see a consultant, only a nurse who said we shouldn’t have been referred because we’d had a miscarriage in the time we’d been ttc. We were therefore NOT infertile. She also told me that any problems with my periods were for the gynaecology department to sort out. That told me then didn’t it!?! To be honest, it sounds worse in writing than it actually was, and at the time it gave me a lot of hope (which I needed since I was hitting rock bottom). Hubby backed the nurse up and later convinced me that it was only a matter of time; next time we’d be successful (as usual he was the calm voice of reason through all the noise).
A year later…
Skip to a year after the miscarriage and we were still not pregnant. We got referred again. A few months later and (typically) one week before our appointment I got pregnant (again). We were elated that we didn’t need the appointment and cancelled it. Two weeks later, we miscarried again. I wish we had kept the appointment and just changed the date, but hindsight is a great thing isn’t it? I knew that we’d have to head back to the GP to be referred for a third time and start it all over again.
In the meantime…
In the meantime, Hubby had convinced his GP to do some sperm tests. They came back with low morphology and he was referred to a urologist. A few weeks later he went for his appointment which was, in no uncertain terms, a joke! The consultant basically gave his balls a token prod (sorry TMI) and said we should have been referred to a fertility clinic and gave him a form to complete. Weeelllll, you don’t say!!!!! You can imagine our surprise to learn that we should have been seeing a fertility specialist…. NOT!!!!!!!
So what next?
So here we are! We’ve had enough of the referrals, the waiting and being passed from pillar to post; being referred to the wrong person at the wrong time blah blah blah. We’ve reached our limit. I’m not getting older and if I have to wait any longer, I might as well get out a frying pan and scramble my eggs myself.
We are lucky that we have a choice to abandon the NHS and are able to go private. I don’t want to sound like I’m a stuck up snob who is bragging that we are going private when loads of people don’t have a choice. Many couples use the NHS for fertility treatments and have great experiences. In fact, we have friends who are currently using them and friends who have been successful with them in the past. But given our experiences, you can probably see why we are moving away from them.
We must be rich then?
Sadly no, we are by no means rich. This has been a big decision. We have been saving towards buying bigger house (for when we have our family) and our parents have offered to help (probably because they want Grand-children almost as much as we want children). But we are prepared to pay whatever it takes and we know we are lucky that we have this choice. If we end up living in a tent, eating beans on toast for the rest of our lives, I don’t care, at least we’ll be a Mummy and Daddy at last! (See, I told you the beans on toast photo would be explained).
Watch this space
Watch this space for my next update, I have a lot of hope riding on this appointment tomorrow, so it could be tears of disappointment, sorrow or joy in 24 hours time.