Haisla's Adventures in Endoland

I have gone incredibly quiet in the blogosphere and can only apologise. To those people whose blogs I read, I'm still around and reading, just don't always get a chance to comment. I apologise and will try to do better.

We are approaching our next FET and tomorrow is the D-day, or should I say T-day (for 'transfer').

In bullet points:
-This round is on us (or 'self-funded' as the clinic likes to call it) so we'll have to cough up £1,200 plus meds, which truth be told is much, much cheaper than I'd expected.

-The prep for this FET has been dead easy (and identical in terms of meds to the previous one). A week of nasal spray (Suprefact from 26/12/15), then approx three weeks of 6mg of oestrogen tables together with the spray (from 01/01/16) and then adding progesterone suppositories from 19/01/16 onwards (coupled with the oestrogen pills) up until pregnancy test (date of which TBA).

-We'll be transferring two embryos as we no longer are categorised as high risk for a twin pregnancy after two failed cycles (and thanks to my advanced maternal age).

-I've been diagnosed to possibly have some clotting issues, ie. (APS) or antiphospholipid syndrome. Full diagnosis would have required a follow-up blood test, but my doctor just recommended some extra meds (name of which escapes me), which I will be starting tomorrow.

-If this round fails I am going to look into getting some immunity testing done. I loath the thought of spending such amounts of money on something that isn't really scientifically recognised yet, but having managed to produce  eight 'high quality' blasts I struggle to understand how we have failed to get pregnant yet, unless there are some other as yet undiagnosed issues underlying.

-I have tried to boost my uterine lining this time around by drinking min 250ml of pomegranate juice daily since starting the oestrogen tablets and it seems to have worked - the nurses pronounced my uterine lining 'textbook perfect' at the scan on Tuesday.

Textbook perfect uterus prepare to receive your new guests and please, please remain hospitable for the next 8 or so months!!

I kind of knew this already on Sunday, as I peed on a stick to give us a bit of a heads up & time to process before the actual OTD on Tuesday, and it came back stark white. Not even a squinter was to be seen.

It turns out that at this stage in the game a BFN is far less devastating news than waking up to a failing pregnancy. Not being pregnant is the norm for us, so nothing's really changed. And after two weeks of being on hyper-alert about any potential symptoms (also known as the dreaded TWW) returning back to normal is actually quite a relief.

I think for some reason M. felt this failure far more acutely than I did. I guess I had the benefit of living in my body for the TWW and realising that I didn't really 'feel' pregnant. Not like I did last time. I mean I had symptoms and all, but none of them were really wholly convincing. Sure I felt nauseous, tired, etc, but I would like to have it here on record that they were just symptoms of the progesterone, should I ever come to wonder.

Anyway, I'm now waiting for a call-back from the clinic for our WTF appointment. This is the end of free treatments, so we need to talk game-plan. The guidelines recommend a two month wait between cycles, but unless there are very good medical grounds for that recommendation, I would like to (and M. agrees with me) to proceed with another FET as soon as possible (i.e. in December). Because it turns out that FET cycles are actually quite long. If I wait for one cycle (to help my body reset or whatever) and start a new FET cycle in December, the earliest we would transfer an embryo is mid-Jan. Waiting for two months would push things to Feb and we just haven't got that kind of time, thanks very much.

There's a list of questions I have for the Doc when we next see him/her (we don't have a regular RE at our clinic, but see a different doctor every time), one of them being about transferring two. Now that we've proven that perhaps the quality of our embryos is not quite as high as the doctors originally assumed, perhaps it'll be less risky to transfer two. Because again, I'm not sure we've got time to do 6 FETs in a row, in case it turns out that all of our embryos are bad. That would mean that by the time we get to do another fresh IVF cycle I'll be pushing 37 and M. his mid-40s. And as we all know what time does to egg quality, it's one of those things I'm not keen to take a gamble on.

So that's the plan, and just having a plan makes me feel so much better. I can wait one month to let my system recalibrate - I mean, after all,  I've become a bit of an expert on waiting. In December this year, I will have waited for 48 months in all. If anyone would have told me that in early 2012 I would have had a heart attack, and probably never had had the nerve to even start on this journey. Sometimes it's best not knowing what the future holds, eh.

Upwards and onwards, then. I'm dusting myself off and moving on.

Actually we had the FET on Friday and I am now 5dp5dt.

I've been feeling so hormonally unbalanced (i.e. going through the dreaded emotional rollercoaster) that I haven't even been able to bring myself to post about the transfer until today. I've just been feeling really negative & pessimistic, until yesterday, when at 4dp5dt I finally started having some 'symptoms' (nausea, sore boobs, ravenousness, knackeredness, the usual). That however was short lived and today I'm feeling absolutely fine and normal again.

What really gets me, though, is that last time (when I actually was pregnant) I had some very specific symptoms that stood out from the TWWs past: 1) I went completely off my sugar-free chocolate bars, which are normally my favourite treat (like I properly could not stomach them) and 2) I gagged at the very smell of my favourite perfume and had to use it very, very sparingly. Those were my tell-tale signs that something was going on. No such symptoms this time around. Food seems to smell amazing to me (even meat), but that could easily just be the progesterone talking.

Anyway, the FET itself (like so much of this cycle) was most uneventful. I wore my snowflake socks in honour of our 5 day frozen snowflake that got transferred into my ute. It was a bit more uncomfortable this time around, but the discomfort could have been due to a trainee nurse bursting into the room as they were doing the mock transfer to ask a question of the senior nurse who was pressing the ultrasound wand against my poor over extended bladder. The senior nurse seemed most displeased about the disruption, as was I. But I think it was an emergency of situation, so I'll let the trainee nurse off the hook.  Thankfully once that little episode was over they got on with the actual transfer and it went as smoothly as anything. We even got a little photo as a souvenir:

That little blip in the middle is our precious snowflake. I hope he / she is still there and nuzzling in. And if that's the case that she / he will send us some strong messages - nausea, vomiting, I'll take anything at the moment.

Well actually the scan itself went fine, with only one minor hiccup, to which I'll return later. More importably, the date for our transfer has been set for 23 October 2015.

I was given the choice to transfer on either Wednesday, Thursday or Friday, so I chose Friday. Even though I'm not looking forward to waiting even longer (and it is starting to feel like I've been waiting, like forever), it's great that we've now got the whole weekend to chill afterwards. I also wanted to make sure M. could take the time off work, as it would have really sucked if he hadn't been able to be there.

Re: hormones, I haven't had that many side effects from the meds since I started taking the little blue pills (no, not viagra) of oestrogen. The Buserelin on its own seems to send me bat s*it crazy, but the oestrogen balances it all out. The only side effects I've noticed are some mild nausea at night (I take the pills right before bed), feeling really hot (to the point of having to shed some layers) and having to get up to pee at least once a night (nothing new there, that will continue with the progesterone, too). Otherwise this combo of hormones seems to have suited me just fine. My endo symptoms have kept quiet, too, so I'm just hoping that means that these drugs have suppressed the beast.

Now to the scan(dal). I waited for what felt like an inordinate time for the scan (about 30 - 40 minutes, which for our clinic is quite unusual) only to find that they had lost our notes. Hmm.. what now? I thought that they had just been generally overbooked and running late, but I think they were actually just scrambling around looking for the missing file. That really didn't raise my confidence levels, even though so far I haven't had many complaints with the clinic. But instead of apologising and reassuring me that the notes would be found, the nurse kept on asking me whom I'd seen last time at the schedule appointment and whether they might still have our notes. Umm.. I don't know, I'm not a nurse, nor am I aware of your filing system.

Well, they had better find the file before next Friday and I certainly want them to find the right embryo (i.e. ours) to transfer into my uterus..

Anyway, the scan went ahead all the same and was mostly fine. The only minor concern (in my mind) was that my lining was only at 7.6mm. Even though the nurse said it was fine, in my mind it is a bit on the thin side. I'm sure during our last cycle it was around 9mm by now. It was triple layered, though, and the nurse called it beautiful, but I couldn't help feeling a little concerned.

I did some googling once I got home and found that different clinics have different standards regarding the thickness of the lining. The absolute minimum appears to be 6mm, some clinics want to ideally see it at 8, some at 10, some even 13.. I mean, I guess there's a few days for it to still thicken up, eh? If anyone's got any experience on this (esp. success stories are most welcome) I would appreciate any light you could shed on the matter. In the mean time I'm trying not to stress about any of the above. Zen is my aim.

In the next steps, I am to stop the nasal spray tomorrow (Sun) and start the progesterone suppositories twice a day, still continuing with the oestrogen pills until it's HPT time.

I'm just so sick of waiting now. Bring on Friday.

For some reason it's been really quite hard to find things to say in here lately..

Perhaps it's because I've actually been out there in the real world enjoying life. Which has been kind of different and nice and necessary after the past three and a half years. It's been exhilarating not to fret, or obsess, or spend every living, breathing moment thinking about infertility. It can kind of suck life right out of you.

The awful thing about infertility is that as soon as I've gotten myself back together after a setback (say a failed cycle, a miscarriage or whatever) and found my equilibrium, it's been time to face the music again. And whilst in the past I've been ready and rearing (almost desperate) to go after each failure, after the miscarriage things have changed. I'm far less eager to put myself back in the game. And yet I know that there's no time to waste. I can't stop this train now. Or if I did, I mightn't ever get back on it again, I'd lose my nerve. You just got to keep going.

Whilst I've often likened infertility to a roller coaster ride, these days it actually feels more like a brutal boxing match. You get in the ring, give it a shot, get knocked down, get back on your feet again, are just about to get back in the swing of things only to just get knocked back down again.. And every time you fall it seems to hurt that little bit more than it did before. I guess the aim should really be to beat the sh*t out of your opponent (i.e. infertility) but sometimes it just feels like they are way bigger and stronger and better at beating things into pulp than you are. And there only seem to be two ways that this game can go. Either I win by finding the one weak spot in infertility's armour (my silver bullet, to mix some metaphors here), or I get knocked back down enough times to decide that I haven't got it in me to get back on my feet again.. (I know, ever the optimist, I am).

But, for now, I'm back up on my feet. I've got my dainty boxing gloves all laced up again and my shiny satin shorts on.

What's helped me to get here, is that:

a) We've had a lovely holiday to France thanks to our friends who invited us to stay at their place near the sea:

Amazeballs, people. If I could, I would uproot in an instant and go live there. But alas, I don't speak French and there are hardly any jobs there, in the winter, so there's that. But anyway, a holiday was exactly what the doctor ordered and we both feel tons better for it. Thank you V&B!!



b) As well as holidaying, we've done a major clear out in our flat and got rid of a lot of junk (mainly 'faux-antique' furniture which we no longer use, but which we have been holding onto out of sheer stubbornness sentimentality). It was cluttering the 'baby room', which is now almost spacious enough to house a baby, should we be lucky enough to have one, one day.



c) We have also expanded our little family by adopting (and when I say adopting I, of course, mean purchasing from an aquatics shop) two lovely, little non-furbabies. Meet Bubbles & Stretch:

It's hard to tell which is which, I can only tell them apart by their tails..

They are darn cute. They've already learnt how to beg for food with their tiny, big round eyes and by flailing their paws excitedly whenever they see us. I'm learning to recognise my tendencies to be an indulgent and easily swayed parent.. Must do better and not succumb to their cuteness.

We've been desperate for pets for ages, but aren't allowed cats, dogs or any other creatures that might 'damage' the property that we rent. Hence the turtles. They are adorable and tiny and aquarium dwelling, which is perfect. They also come with a high risk of carrying salmonella, which is um.. awkward considering that we're hoping to get pregnant, soon. And if you believe anything written in the interweb about turtles, salmonella is like the WORST THING that you could possibly contract when pregnant. So instead of getting rid of the turtles, like, immediately, as the assvice on most online forums goes, we've opted for the slightly more measured approach (followed by people who actually own turtles), i.e. adopting a hand-washing regime that we follow after handling the turtles or their dwelling. And we'll be mindful of the risk should I get pregnant and should our home one day be inhabited by a small child. No kissing of turtles for our kids..

So for now, I am happy..

..which is nothing short of miraculous considering that I've been sniffing Buserelin for the past two weeks. Truth be told, this time around, hormonally, I have been far worsely (what do you mean that's not a word?!) affected, than I was when we were doing the Buserelin injections. Or maybe now that my work is not a crazy, stressful nightmare I've had more time to be aware of how the hormones are affecting me.. Or maybe I've just got incredibly short memory and it was just as bad last time. Hot flashes, immeasurable sadness, unaccountable rages. You name it, I've felt it. Thankfully, somehow, I've managed to remember that it's just the hormones, stupid. And M's done incredibly well to survive the madness.

So I've done two weeks of Buserelin sniffing (four times a day, no less) and yesterday was officially day #1 of our first FET cycle, when my period finally started four days late. I reduced Buserelin sniffing to mornings and evenings only and started taking 3 Progynova pills in the evenings. This is sooo much easier than IVF. I don't much care for the after-taste of the nasal spray, but I'll take it any day if it spares me from needles.

I'm having a scan on 15th October and hopefully, all being well, our transfer will take place a few days after that.


I can't believe this is happening again. Someone get my mouthguard already.

I can't believe how the time has flown.

This summer has literally just sped by.

I've started in my new job (after a very stressful three months of working long hours to try to bring my previous job to a tidy-ish conclusion) and have had the lowest stress levels in years. My new job is a doddle. For the first few weeks I felt like I was "cheating". It was all just way too easy. A nice office based job, enough time to do everything I was expected to do and (comparatively) short working hours. And I got paid for it..

I also had to make a major adjustment in terms of my identity, which for so many years had been tied up to my career. Who was I now that I wasn't that person who worked long hours, put up with a lot of cr*p, dealt with very difficult / dysfunctional people on a daily basis, all for a very worthy cause?

I had to get used to not being that very important person in the lives of many very unwell individuals, for not having to deal with their daily dramas and often self-inflicted emergencies. I had to realise that to quell my hunger for excitement I would now have to obtain my daily dose of drama from the TV, like normal people do. I thought I used to thrive on being the person who brought order to all that chaos, but I must say that I feel much happier working in a calmer environment. I can actually see my desk these days, a huge improvement from my previous job and hopefully reflective of my inner world, too.

I'm slowly learning what it feels like to have a work-life balance (yes, I know, it actually exists - for many years I thought it was one of those unicorn-like things). And in short, it's quite wonderful.

I'm sorry if this sounds boastful, but it's really not meant to be. I just feel like I was under some kind of a weird spell (call it workaholism if you will) and just couldn't see a way out - I thought it was normal. Which just goes to show what growing up in a dysfunctional environment can do to you - it warps your sense of normalcy. Now that I'm on the other side, I can only shake my head and wonder how I survived. I don't need to be Freud to realise that on some level I must have craved for the drama and chaos; it felt familiar, it felt safe. I was re-living my childhood, but this time I was in control. Perhaps I needed to prove something to myself. I'm sure my motivations weren't completely pure (as often is the case, - we want to rescue people, because ultimately we want to be rescued ourselves). I do hope (and I genuinely believe) that I must have done some small good in the last ten years. I don't think it was all wasted, but I did pay a heavy price, as did M.

It's only now that I've slowed down that I realise how much he did in terms of running our household. He did most of the cooking and grocery shopping. He did quite bit of the housework. I did some over the weekends, when I wasn't too floored with exhaustion. But in the evenings, because he always got home first, he would do what needed to be done. I feel really bad about this. I was just way too preoccupied with my work to see. M. would bring it up every now and then, but what could I do? I only had so many hours in the day. So I would just feel guilty. Not a great dynamic. But I married a good man, you know. Not many would have put up with such nonsense. But M. knew what he was getting into when he married me. He knew what my work meant to me and he was willing to make the sacrifice. So I'm grateful, so very grateful that our marriage has somehow remained more or less intact and I'm now catching up on being a better partner. And it's nice, it feels healthier. We're both contributing to our family life, no-one needs to carry most of the burden. And we have more time to have fun and just enjoy each others' company.

That all being said, I'm not surprised I couldn't get pregnant. All those stress hormones continually flowing around my body for so many years. Goodness knows what kind of long-term havoc they've wrecked on my system. Not that I believe in all that 'just relax' crap (advice so familiar to us in the IF community), but surely a constant cortisol overload is not beneficial for the body either.

Anyway, after a month of much lower stress levels and lots of dedicated baby-making (which is much easier when both of you are working 9-5, I must say!), we still didn't get pregnant. AF arrived today and with its appearance heralded the start of our first FET cycle.

So I'm finally getting to the title of this post; the one question that has been haunting me since my WTF appointment with our fertility doctor in July, namely how many embryos we should transfer.

I know that we are in a fortunate position to have any embryos to transfer at all and that in the greater scheme of things this is a frivolous first world problem. But frivolous or not, a decision has to be made and it could have some rather serious consequences..

The Dr seemed to be strongly of the opinion that since we had such high quality embryos (out of which one was transferred and seven frozen) and a successful outcome at our last transfer (i.e. a pregnancy, which sadly resulted in miscarriage) we should only transfer one.

I did point out to her, that however beautiful our previous blastocyst had been (at "five grade AA"), it had obviously still not been chromosomally normal as it had resulted in a miscarriage and not live birth. Ergo, we have no way of knowing (save for carrying out a PGD, which is way too late now) how many (if any) of those 7 frozen embryos are likely to be chromosomally normal. In fact even a PGD could not guarantee a 100% certainty as only a fraction of the chromosomes of each embryo are tested. She had to concede that this much was true. I also pointed out that since this was our last NHS funded cycle, we would have to take finances into consideration, too, when deciding on the number of embryos to transfer. Again she accepted that these were things we would have to think about, but warned that based on our previous cycle and my age, I would be at very high risk of becoming pregnant with multiples and due to the increased risks to mother and babies, she could only recommend a SET. She said that we do have the right to request for a double embryo transfer, as long as we are fully aware of the risks and make an informed decision.

One positive thing I took away from this conversation was that a FET at our current clinic (with our frozen embryos) only cost approx. £1,000 a pop, which is a fraction of what a fresh cycle would cost. I didn't think to ask whether that figure includes the meds, but all the same, it did make my heart feel a bit lighter.

No matter how cocky I may have sounded in pushing for a double embryo transfer, it doesn't mean that I feel by any means certain that that's the pathway we want to go down. In some ways I guess I just wanted to make sure that we have the choice.

I've researched the risks that come with twin pregnancies. I've researched the pregnancy rates between SETs and DETs. I've read all sorts of scientific articles, case studies etc and as a result of it all, I think I am slowly (and rather reluctantly I have to admit - I mean surely transferring two would double our chances!) veering towards a single embryo transfer.

I've had a few conversations with M. about this, too, and I think we are both pretty much on the same page. We'll do one more SET and then if this one fails or ends up in miscarriage, we'll do a FET privately (at the same clinic) and transfer two.. I think especially since we now know that the cost of a FET is fairly reasonable, we feel safer in the knowledge that we should be (financially) able to do quite a few of those if needed..  I'm just hoping that at least one of our frozen embies is chromosomally normal. I would hate to spend months and months doing FETs only to realise that we'll have to do yet another IVF on my even older eggies.

Another scary possibility (that has crossed my mind more than once) is that perhaps our embryos are perfectly fine and it is my uterus that is just immunologically hostile to anything attempting to implant in there. The Dr I had our WTF appt. was fairly dismissive about this theory (I know immunology-stuff is considered pretty 'out there' by mainstream docs, so I can understand her scepticism), so I'm only holding onto it ever so lightly. I guess we would need to suffer three or more miscarriages before the doctors at this clinic would even start investigating such avenues and I'd quite frankly rather not cross such bridges until we get there.

Maybe we'll consider some more testing should this FET fail, but again, I'd rather get through this first before starting to worry about such things.

All in all, things are therefore well.

I've emailed the clinic and am waiting for further instructions (I can't help but think of the 1980's series Mission Impossible - "Your mission, should you decide to accept it ... is to self-administer numerous subcutaneous injections, undertake much cloak and daggery, including secret / whispered phone conversations with your ER, attending many undignified appointments with a dildocam, all in the hopes of having a baby.." I almost wish they'd send us one of those little discs that self-destructs in 30 seconds with the instructions of what we are to do next. Receiving a voicemail / email just seems so very underwhelming for something as complicated and potentially life-altering as IVF/FET) ..

Anyway, I digress. As per our info leaflet, I'm expecting an appointment in the next two weeks, to start sniffing Buserelin on CD21 and to start taking oestradiol tablets approx. 26 days from today (on the next CD1). The transfer itself should then take place approx. 3 weeks later, in mid-October-ish. Much easier than a fresh cycle of IVF. I think there are one or two scans sprinkled in there, too, but that's about it.

Bring it on, I say, bring it on!

..had I not miscarried at 7wk4days.

As miscarriages go, it was actually fairly uneventful once it got started (as so many of you assured me in response to my last post).

For those looking for info on miscarriage experiences I will just do a short run down (this will contain some TMI content, so if you're easily repulsed, look away now) on how things unfolded. I know how horrible it is to stand at the brink of your very first miscarriage and not know what to expect. If you are here because of that, my heart goes out to you. This is my experience, yours may vary, but just know that you are not alone.

I had one final scan just before I had to make my way to the airport where M. was waiting with our luggage (we were flying to my native Finland the same day). Thankfully the Doc could not see anything untoward either in my uterus (i.e. baby hadn't really even got started developing before his/her demise) nor in my fallopian tubes or surrounding area, so I was sent off to catch our flight to Finland.

This was on Saturday. I had stopped progesterone on Wednesday and had started spotting on Friday.

On Monday morning the proper 'contractions' started. The worst of it only lasted about 5 minutes (although felt much, much longer). I was literally writhing on the bathroom floor white as paper and unsure whether I'd end up puking or pooping myself; I felt so shaky and weird I didn't know what to do with myself. Poor M was trying to get my hot water bottle done whilst frantically googling directions to the nearest hospital in case it was an ectopic bursting.

Thankfully it wasn't. It very much reminded me of my endo pain when it's at its worst. I haven't really suffered from that level of pain (thankfully) in years. The bleeding only started some hours later. I reckon, though, that the pain was more or less the endo being released from the placating grip of progesterone and rearing its ugly head again, as I've heard from others that miscarriages so early on in pregnancy are rarely that painful (I mean there's hardly anything to dispel at that stage).

The bleeding was moderate compared to my normal period, which surprised me. I sort of thought that since my womb lining had been unshed for longer than usual it would be released with greater vengeance. No such thing. Yes, I bled but it was fairly minor. The only difference was that it went on for longer than usual, approx. two weeks in total with all the spotting prior to and after.

It was horrible and sad, but at the same time I got to be with M. all that time and didn't need to worry about whether or not to take time off work. By the time I'd returned to work it was all over. I guess it's fair to say that I got off fairly easily.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Anyway, it took me this long to be ready to write about it. I have been too busy to think about it too much, which has been a blessing in disguise. I've shed some tears, but over all gotten quite swiftly over it. And the reason I've been so very, busy, is actually really quite brilliant...

It all happened quite spontaneously. I think I may have mentioned that I was going for an interview round about the time all the IVF stuff was going on.

Well, lo and behold, I got through to the second round of interviews and was eventually selected for the post. When I was offered the job, I decided to come clean about our IVF journey and the possibility that I could be pregnant by the time I started, or needing time off for further treatments. I wanted them to have a way out (even though it would have been legally dubious) but also to negotiate this stuff from the word go so that there would be no nasty surprises further down the line. Talk about an awkward conversation. With the Director. Who is considerably older than I and a man. It was like discussing my period with a male relative. Squirm-worthy but unavoidable. He said, he'd have to pass it by the Trustees. Two hours later I got a phone call back; they'd decided to hire me anyway. Yay! Go me for being all adult and putting my assertive pants on.

So I handed in my notice and have been working my little a*se off for the past two and a half months, trying to tie up all the loose (and man are there many loose ends). It has been exhausting. I don't think I could have done this whilst pregnant, or would have run myself to the ground trying.

The new job is lovely. Boring as heck, but lovely. It's a charity that deals with fuel poverty. My new colleagues are lovely (there's only three of us in the office), the office in itself is lovely (as in purpose built, air-conditioned, the works), my work journey is lovely (20 minutes by bus or 15 minutes cycling - no more hours long journeys to work!), the working hours are lovely (9am-4pm, except Fridays when we finish at 12noon!). Compared to my current job, it'll be a doddle. In fact my new employers said that they are a little concerned that I "may get bored". I tried to assure them that I don't mind a bit of bored-ness especially not after the madness that I have endured with my current job. "And especially if it'll give me a better chance to get and pregnant and remain so" (I said to myself, not aloud, mind, I'm not a complete fool). It's much lower paid than my current job, but I have come to the conclusion that money is not everything. I would rather retain my sanity than hold on to a big pay package.

In other good news, M. too, got offered a new job a couple of weeks after I got my job offer. He'll still be working for the same employer, but in a different, office-based capacity. As a bit of a back story, he's suffered from a back injury for the past three years now and has been unable to fulfil his frontline role. He's therefore been office based, but at the risk of redundancy or being moved to another borough in London, potentially far further away from home for the past two years. It's like we've been waiting for the axe to fall. This new job is literally like a lottery win in the context of his profession. A colleague of his left an office-based IT role in a rush without giving the organisation much notice. They needed someone with the skills to fulfil the role asap and M, with his reputation as a bit of a computer wizard and requirement to remain office based, was ideal for the role. He was told about the move on a Friday and was in the new role the following Monday. He remains in the same location, just one floor up. He is now working 9-5, Monday to Friday and gets to take his Christmases off. This is literally almost unheard of in his line of work. And his job is safe. No more risk of redundancy. That source of anxiety is suddenly gone.

I hope I don't sound too smug when I say, that this all feels like our stars may finally be aligning. I mean none of this was really our own doing. I randomly (and rather leisurely) applied for an ideal job and when was offered it had the courage to take the leap of faith and accept it. And meanwhile M. gets (totally randomly) offered a Monday-Friday 9-5 job within a couple of weeks of my job offer. I mean what the heck!!? I couldn't make it up if I tried.

All these things happening make me wonder whether "the universe is [just] unfolding as it should" (to quote the Desiderata). Perhaps this is God working in His mysterious ways. We got our little glimmer of hope in May with our first ever positive pregnancy test and although it wasn't to be, at least we got to learn that we can get pregnant. When we start our next FET cycle (hopefully in Sept) I feel like we will both finally be in much better place emotionally, physically and just mentally to welcome a new life into the world.

I'm ready and actually quite excited about the future again and just a teeny-tiny little bit hopefully, that all may work out well in the end after all..