On your marks …

get set … Go!

Good news.  In fact, wonderful news!  I received the results of my smear last week, and I am all clear, cancerless and ready for IVF.  I have been discharged back to the GP.

I wish they hadn’t used the word ‘discharge’ on a letter headed with the word ‘Gynaecology’.  Blegh.

So, 1 week and 3 days until our appointment at the clinic.  Wicked!

Also have to admit to freaking out a little bit.  I might be pregnant this year.  Crazy, that.

Positively beaming -our wedding.

Let me tell you something.  Our wedding was amazing.  Weddings generally are – but ours really was.

It’s hard to know how genuinely amazing your wedding was – because you’re always going to look at it like you might look upon your own child and think they are the most beautiful child you ever saw.  Others will coo and nod along with you but you’ll never really know how it looks from an outsiders point of view.

So, when we received notification that our Humanist Minister had written an article about our wedding, we could not have been more proud:

Click me

Oh go on then, if you insist, here’s the highlights video, too 🙂

 

The very scary embryo

Here’s a little bit too much information:  I’m not very keen on smear tests.  In fact I find them quite painful.  I’m not very good at them at all.  For this reason, I feel anxious about when it’s my turn to step up and do my bit in the IVF process, and have the emryo transferred for (hopefully!) safe keeping.  I have a list of questions I want to ask of the consultant when we have our appointment.  Yesterday, I added these to the list: 

  • Will it hurt?
  • If so will you give me a tablet to make it all a bit calmer because I don’t want the embryo to land inside a stressed out body.

Last night I had a dream that I was going in for the procedure, alone.  But it wasn’t a hospital, it was more like a bedsit or a motel.  And they were going to use a drill.  That’s right, they were going to access my womb with a drill.  From the downstairs region (I need to man up when it comes to being such a prude about mentioning unmentionables.)

I didn’t realise this until I was in the necessary compromising position and they switched the drill on.  I panicked and kept flinching out of their way.  There was a jar on the side filled with liquid which contained our embryo.  I could see it, it was a little speck of light, floating about.

Eventually the light began to flicker and I realised this was the only way, that our embryo wouldn’t survive much longer in the liquid.  I told him to just do it.  He started taking his gloves off and said “Sorry, you’re out of time, we’re closed now” while the embryo continued to flicker.

I then had to explain to Bec that I had wasted her emryo (wasted is not the first word that comes to mind but I don’t like to use the other word) and she was really, really mad at me, saying “That was my baby.”

I woke up in tearful this morning and told her about it.  She said “It’s OK my love, I wouldn’t blame you for being scared of a drill.  In fact, if it were true, I would punch the doctor in the face.  Really, really hard.”

My wife’s ace.

So those are the two things I’m currently feeling most anxiety about.  The embryo transfer, and having the Bec’s poor defenceless embryo inside me and the responsibility that comes with that flickering light.  And that if it doesn’t stick, she might feel a little bit of resentment towards me.  Even if she won’t admit it.

I seem to have forgotten about the fact that we don’t have the smear results/go ahead for IVF yet.  Still, we’ve made the first appointment with the clinic anyway.  It’s in 2 weeks and 6 days.

Aaaand breathe.