Anyway, to finish off the story from yesterday – we arrived at the Clinic, and everything with R’s test was fine. Then we had the discussion with the doctor about what would happen next, and what blood tests we needed to have done again, etc., because it had been so long since we were first seen.
Then came the dreaded moment – downstairs to the ultrasound room. R and I sat outside in a queue of women, and had our discussion. We had to accept the fact that, if there was any problem that needed sorting, there would not be enough time.
It was with some trepidation, I can tell you, that I entered that room. It was like being at a crossroads but having no choice as to which way I would be going.
The screen flickered into life, and I waited for the verdict. The remains of the fibroid was still there, but not interfering with the space that an embryo would need. The lining was thin, which was as it should be, so that was fine. One ovary could be seen; that was fine, but the other could not. I said that it was probably because of scar tissue from my first operation in 1987, or whenever it was.
So that was it – All OK, and ready to proceed!
I remained calm, but was really pleased – inside I was doing cartwheels of joy!
We came outside and I felt as though I had been reborn. It was as though a huge load had been taken from me, and I pledged there and then that from now until the time of embryo transfer – that is, if our donor stays with us and all goes well (I mustn’t assume) – I am going to look after myself.
I’d tried to lose a bit of weight, as you know, but somehow, and these last few weeks especially, my heart was not in it. I’d come home from work not hungry, but head straight for the biscuit barrel. I’d sit here typing this blog and wander back into the kitchen for a choc bar.
I tried to be good, and bought some malt loaf to eat instead – and then promptly spread the slices with butter, and ate three of them! I’d convinced myself that it was all utterly hopeless, and that there was no point, because we’d be turned down for treatment.
Now I know that will not be, and I must be in the best possible shape and health and fitness now. Well I’m fit because of the allotment, but do need to lose about half a stone, or more if I can manage it, between now and whenever the donor is ready to start.
Now I have the perfect incentive, and I will be able to stick to the WeightWatchers Points system; just you watch this space!