Long time between drinks

I have been missing in action for a few weeks, but I think a complete mental breakdown is a mighty good excuse!

It all began at 4 in the morning on Sunday July 1st, DH and I were asleep, the two younger kids (Tiger and Rosie) were in their rooms asleep as well, while the oldest (Batman) and 2 friends were in the self-contained flat attached to the house. Batman came running into our room saying the flat was full of smoke. DH pulled on a pair of pants and ran outside, by which time there were flames shooting out of the door and the trees in the courtyard were on fire. Luckily all the boys were out.

The power went out with a bang, I rang for the fire brigade, woke Rosie and took her out on to the street. The skylights melted and the flames shot 30 metres high. More trees on fire. Neighbours came running and yelling. I ran back in to the main house and sent the older boys outside with Rosie, but Tiger refused to leave until his father did. The damn expensive 'non-kinking' garden hose had a kink in it and no water would come out, so DH was running in circles trying to the culprit, while Tiger bravely aimed the hose at the inferno.

We live in a country town, so our fire brigade is made up of volunteers. The fire captain lives just down the street and arrived on foot but it seemed to take such a long time for the trucks to arrive. When they did they arrived in force - 5 trucks, an incident van, breathing apparatus van, 4 police cars, red cross.

The fire captain soon got Tiger and DH out of the house, and so we all stood across the road in various states of undress and watched these huge flames leap into the sky. Those flames are coming from OUR HOUSE! It was so cold, so unreal. Neighbours brought over blankets and coats and offered hot drinks. DH rang the Screaming Banshee and asked her to come get the kids. Tiger refused, but the others all left. Gradually the flames died down, the mood became less agitated, neighbours wished as well and went back to bed.

Around 6am the fire captain told us we could come and look around. Only two rooms of the main house were damaged but the flat was completely gone, nothing was recognisable.

3 things saved our house:
1 - we have a flat tin roof so there was no roof cavity for the fire to travel into,
2 - the flat was a late addition to the house, so there is a double brick wall between them,
3 - the CFA had crews standing by the gas bottles (we don't have LPG here) and the gas tank in Batman's car in the flat's driveway.

Only 1 small thing saved our lives:
1 - the smoke alarm that woke one of the boys in the flat.

I am good in a crisis, level-headed and proactive, but crash really badly. Shock set in late Sunday afternoon after all the insurance workmen, fire investigation people, neighbours and family had gone. I think I cried for 4 days straight after that thinking of all the what if's (I hadn't unlocked the deadbolt on the front door of the flat - what if the fire had been at the back door! What if the smoke alarm hadn't worked. What if the hose had worked and DH had gone into the flat). Then the anxiety hit, a dead weight in my stomach, a feeling of dread that wouldn't go, hyper- alertness especially at night. The house stunk of toxic burnt plastic but I couldn't leave it, I would start to panic if the cats were late in at night. For the first few days we barely ate, barely slept. I am much better now, trying to act excited to the kids about getting a new flat screen tv and new couches and beds. The insurance company hasn't kicked in yet so the house still stinks and we have a fenced off pile of ashes and dead trees in our yard, but I care so much less now for materials comforts.

PS: Needless to say we are back to the IVF drawing board, the Clingons jumped ship the day of the fire (and I really thought that I was pregnant too).....

Waiting Game

The embryo transfer went as well as could be expected Saturday morning, 2 almost blastocysts were implanted. A full bladder is needed to help push the uterus forward so it can be better seen on the ultrasound, so you are told to drink 2 glasses of water 1 hour before the procedure. I can NEVER get this right, I always end up jiggling on the spot and terrified that I am going to embarrass myself [literally] in front of the doctor. One time I had to empty out and start again about 20 minutes before, this time I was next up but was so bursting that I had to empty a little just so that I could walk into theatre. I had heard of others having to do this but never thought it possible but there you go - it is. I must keep up those pelvic floor exercises!

After hospital we headed for the hills on our romantic weekend away. Which actually turned out to be an anti-romance weekend. It started with the notes the hospital gave us - no sex for 24 hours - no spa baths for at least a week. Naturally, sex was meant to be high on the agenda for a romantic night away, and of course our accommodation had a fantastic big spa bath and gorgeous log fire. The fact that DH kept calling our cute little self-contained cottage a 'flat' and asked me in the hospital waiting room if I was itchy because the [hormone-induced] acne on my pale and sickly face made me look like I had chicken pox just added to the anti-romantic feeling. The reason my face was/is pale and sickly is due to the cold I caught last week - the sneezing, runny nose, coughing my lungs up kind of cold. Nice.

Hence, these 2 embryos have been labeled 'clingons', in that hope that despite the violence of my cold they will grip their tiny cells into the sides of my warm and inviting womb and CLING ON for dear life. Well at least until February next year.

After being so good by not giving into stress-relieving, cold-curing sex or spa baths, we went wine-tasting on the way home on Sunday. St Huberts, Chandon, Yering Station and de Bertoli, wow isn't there some money in the Yarra Valley wine industry! The clingons enjoyed Chandon 2003 Vintage Brut and Yering Station 2006 Shiraz Viognier the best.

Pregnancy test on the 4th of July. I am hoping and praying that America's day of independence marks the end of mine. Sing with me now... O, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light...

Mother of 8

Well haven't I been a busy thing this past week. While on the nest brewing up a nice little pile of eggs, I have spring-cleaned my house (in mid-winter) hosted a first birthday party for my niece, looked after numerous overnight guests, had aforementioned eggs harvested and caught a cold!

The egg collection happened on Monday and netted a tidy 16 eggs. No wonder I couldn't fit into any of my clothes for the party. I felt like an absolute heffalump after the operation too and thought for sure that I would overstimulate but luckily haven't. DH is a bit disappointed that only 8 eggs fertilised [his usual success rate is close to 100%] but considering that I only got 5 last time and achieved a pregnancy with a 4-6 cell embryo transfer we should be over the moon. At least this time we should be guaranteed of at least one growing to a 5 day blastocyst, and hopefully a couple to freeze. My Dr tells me they are getting 60%+ success rates with blastocysts - I must admit this survival of the fittest theory makes me a little uncomfortable, but lets save the ethics of IVF for another day [like after it has worked for me]. I will find out tomorrow how many are still growing and what time the transfer will be on Saturday.

We are staying at a B&B this Saturday night so that should be nice. I don't think you are meant to have sex for 24 hours after an embryo transfer though so that may be a let down [literally] for DH. Most men get more sex when their wife wants to get pregnant but my poor baby gets less.

PS: DH has bought No.1 son a car - looks like No.1 daughter will soon get her pony! C'est la vie

7th Cycle

Well here we go again... We have started our 7th ART cycle this week. We are madly praying it will be successful and therefore our last cycle. Not being a religious person I have no idea of the origins of the term 7th Heaven, but that is what I am calling this cycle so I hope its a good thing. Maybe I should google it. Isn't it great that we don't have to have any general knowledge anymore - if you don't know what something is or where it is you just jump on the net and google it. DH's kids can't recall their school projects the day after they complete it because they have just copied all the info from internet sites without even bothering to read it. In my day we had to at least re-write it from a book...

Anyhoo, I am getting way off track again. This is a 'boost' cycle so its very short. We started Synarel nasal spray on last Thursday and injections last Friday, and today [Thursday 14th] "FannyCam" revealed 11 follicles on the right ovary and 15 on the left. [That sounds a lot I know but most are probably cysts, still I am hopeful that we should get 8-10 eggs.] Most were quite small <13mm, so I should be able to hold out until Monday or Tuesday next week for collection. I am worried about DH though - he has been sick over the last month or so, catching cold after cold, which is very unlike him - so I don't know what sort of state his swimmers will be in. The Dr says that his swimmers are 3 months old by the time they are needed so I hope he was looking after himself in March!

Awwww

DH has learnt his Mother's Day lesson. I got this card from the kids for my birthday this week. How gorgeous is it? Best birthday present ever! I feel so special....

Mother's Day

Mother's day - Schmother's Day

I hate mother's day, never used to but since the miscarriage I do. Tears made me feel a little better but confused the heck out of DH. I was meant to be able to enjoy the day as a mother-to-be, we could have shared a few special 'I know something you don't know' smirks over the family lunch, or we could even have announced our news as we would have been into the second trimester this week.

DH says I shouldn't look backwards. Yeah thanks honey, that makes everything okay! Oh and by the way, thanks for the acknowledgment of all I do for your children! I really must be evil....

What to do...?

I knew this time would come, but now it is here I don't know how to handle it.

13 year old Rose has hit puberty and has started battling with her mother (as we all did). Both of them are strong personalities with very low tolerance levels and extremely short-tempers so the battles are often and nastily fought. Rose speaks to her mother (the Banshee) as she is spoken to and her mother doesn't cope well will this. The Banshee seems to think that the winner of the argument is the one who comes up with the most hurtful comment, and the Banshee hates to lose.

So... she came to stay with us for a week. She did well to last that long with the Banshee calling every night to ask when she would be home, and her older brother conscripted to continue the guilt trip at school. She has gone back now but I think she has achieved some of what she wanted. Both she and the Banshee now know that she is stronger than her brothers and that if it gets too bad at home she will come to us. The power balance has shifted a little, which I suspect will only escalate the battle.

I know I sound cynical but I was a teenage girl once and lots of split families I know deal with these same issues. DH thinks that he is offering a 'safe haven' for the kids to come to because their home life is so difficult, but it is also a great tool for a teenage girl to get her way. The whole time she was here she was on the internet finding horses for her father to buy her, because "I would definitely live here all the time if I had a horse".

Naturally DH wants to buy the horse. Naturally I am not so sure.

The relationship between mother and daughter is a curious one - the ties are deceptively strong. Not to mention the force that is mother guilt. What happens to DH when she chooses her mother over the horse (and him)? What happens to DH and I if she does come here to live and starts battling with me?