Hi guys, and welcome :) Thanks for reading my Blog. Not sure what to make of this and how to go about it really but I thought I'd give it a good try!
I'm an avid reader of all manner of blogs related to trying to concieve and fertility problems ever since I got married 3 and a half years ago. Admittedly back then I was only a young naive 23 yr old girl who saw life through rose tinted glasses and absurdly thought life would be a breeze.
Now a few years later, still very much in love and married to my seriously saint of a hubby, but life has not taken the route we expected, reality is we have no child of our own to make our lives complete.
Let me be honest, since day 1 of my marriage, i have never taken any form of contraception whatsoever (an endless source of amusement to my mates and 3 sisters) and myself and hubby certainly enjoyed all the many many what we thought 'practice' sessions leading up to now.
All this time later, Hubby enjoys the 'practising' whilst myself on the other hand, i feel as if i am just going through the motions, as if it is a chore, which i hate admitting, but its true, i just mentally image the months passing by and all our futile attempts, the wonder of guessing whether this time Hubbys sperm and my eggs will result in something spectacular is like a bad taste in my mouth.
I have to admit, i can't stand having calenders in my home now, the very thought of seeing time pass by, months and years rolling by terrifies me. Hubby is the one non crazy person in my life who can calm me down and say all the right things but thats just the blokes way, they cannot possibly think and plan for the future like us....i fret about becoming too old to have a child (i'm 27 going on 57),
i lay awake at nights worrying my frazzled brain to death. I've lost count of the many attempts i've tried to wake up Hubby from his blissful slumber to tell me im the fountain of youth and time is on my side. To his credit he has the sleep talking of that down to a Tee i tell you.
About over a year ago my GP confirmed after many blood tests that i do in fact have PCO and consequently put me on a course of Metformin medication twice a day every day.
The GP i first had on my first appointment there was a tall posh Eton-esque of a man who i insisted later on
to Hubby was patronising me. Eton-esque would simply stare at me with his probing eyes and his mouth turned downwards grimacing. Several appointments later it was all i could do from smacking him in the face (and i am not a violent girl i tell you!).
Prior to me being diagnosed with PCO, Eton-esque requested all the usual blood tests and an abdomonal and transvaginal scan at our local hospital which terrified me.
Let me inform you that prior to this i had never been to a doctor or hospital in my life, so for me, the very thought of someone sticking something that looks like a big shower head down below had me permanently blushing and nervous as hell. Me thinking that is fine, but i despised Eton-esque irrationally for also thinking the same (really should have worked on not flushing bright red whenever he mentioned the transvaginal scan but Hubby drew the line there and would not practice that conversation with me).
I recall wailing irrationally to Hubby on the drive home that a GP man cannot possibly be as sympathetic or can relate to my worries and queries as a woman, as i woke the next morning after a fitfull sleep Hubby rang the GP practice and arranged another appointment with a female GP.
Now she was a million times better than Eton-esque, she i felt at ease with at once, despite the fact that she resembled Nicole Scherzinger. She listened and understood my gibberish, my 1 thousand questions and made me not feel like a public school girl.
'Nicole' was the one i had an appointment booked with for the results of the transvaginal scan which i somehow got through (forgive me for sounding like a prude, im really not, just completely naive and dumb in a way). I thanked the lucky stars that they had dim lighting in the scanning room and thought about how i really wasted my time in the shower that morning shaving and waxing every part of me to within an inch of their life. Nicole confirmed the PCO diagnosis and upped my daily amounts to 3 a day to try and regulate my periods, which is a whole damn different story.
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