We have made an appointment at a fertility clinic.
Never in a bazillion years did I think I would ever say this. Hell, I don’t even know what on earth they might be able to do for us.
But time is ticking away – it’s been 27 months now. And I’m turning 40 in December. I’ve been trying for a third baby since I was 37 and although I’ve gotten pregnant five times, and said I’m going to stop trying way more than five times, we’re still here, still stuck, still hoping.
So, the date is August the 8th.
We’ll go in, we’ll talk to the consultant, and we’ll see what they say.
I’m kind of hoping that we can just speed things up – it’s not so much GETTING pregnant, it’s STAYING pregnant. But since my coeliac diagnosis, I have this weird feeling that I won’t miscarry any more.
But it could take 6 more months for a natural pregnancy to happen. I am thinking maybe IUI will give us a head start – the best sperm, a better chance. Then it’s up to my body to see if it will hold.
So there we go.
I’m CD5 at the moment, so we’ll fit another try in before we see anyone (and probably another try after that unless they move with lightning speed).
I feel a mixture of relief and trepidation. Relief at finally asking for help.
Trepidation that nothing and no one can help me.