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Pink's Diary
Introducing Pink

Hi, I'm Pink. I'm completely nuts and you might start to ask yourself why on earth I would be choosing to procreate when I am so clearly unbalanced. Well .... it wasn't always like that. I used to be a sane person, but then we decided that the time was right; we were trying for a baby. Now I'm not the obsessive type - never have been, never thought I would be. Wrong! Everyone who tries for a baby becomes obsessed, if not purely because they become obsessed with not being obsessed. I'm waffling.

We got married in the summer of 2000 and we started TTC in September of 2000. I guess I already knew that I had "Women's" problems because in the last 15 years, I'd been off the pill twice and both times, I had no periods at all. Not quite right. So, in October I approached my GP with three months' worth of chart data (I'd been charting for three months before we started TTC) and told her that I was pretty convinced that I wasn't ovulating. Only 3 periods, 37 Blood tests, 3 scans, 3 different Gynaecologists, lots of support from my friends on the BGUK forum and an impending laparoscopy later, I bring you my monthly journal in our quest to get pregnant.

I post regularly on the forum, so please don't be afraid to post me a message if you have any questions or feedback.

Pink's Diary: June 2001

Number of obsessive baby thoughts this month: 9,832 (and a half)
Number of hours spent on BGUK: 10 (x8)
Number of pregnancy symptoms imagined: 2
Number of symptoms DEFINITELY not imagined: 35

Week One:
Why am I having so many obsessive thoughts about a drug called Clomid? Those six letters are what I eat, sleep, breathe and dream at the moment. I think I'm setting myself up for a fall, as it is only the very first rung on the fertility ladder. I've been pretty good this week - trying not to obsess so much - but then I have got a nice week in the sun with one of my girlfriends to look forward to this month.

I have my next Gynae appt next week, just before I go on holiday, but that's just to get Mr.. Pink's sperm tests results (we call them his "little swimmers"). Hope that's all ok, otherwise we might not be considered for Clomid. Fingers crossed girls ....

Week Two:
Oh the great NHS. It sounds like the title of a depressive Morrissey song and to be honest ... I feel a bit that way too. Why, oh why does it all have to be so complex? I went to my next Gynae appt which was just to check that Hubby's little swimmers hit the mark (or so I thought) ... They gave us the great news that his sperm were "above normal" in quantity and quality and we were ecstatic. As we got up to leave, the Gynae looked strangely at me and asked if we wanted to stay for the rest of my appointment. What appointment? It was just test results... right?

Wrong! They then proceeded to tell me that the Laparoscopy (internal examination done under a general anaesthetic) which I was told would be a six week wait was now in fact a six month wait. Then, they disclosed that after Clomid, they couldn't offer any further fertility treatment locally and that I would have to go onto a three year waiting list for one of the London hospitals. I wanted to scream... instead I just cried. I think the nurse took pity on me, because she then got some details for me of a consultant who used to work at the hospital, but who was now private and working locally. I got home, cried my eyes out, posted a message on BGUK, took strength in the number of supportive replies, phoned the private consultant and made an appointment for when I came back from holiday. Not the best start to a relaxing week in the sun, I'll grant you.

Week Three:
Blissful holiday with girlfriend, let's call her 'Sunshine' because she managed to cheer me up so much. She's in the medical profession, which is handy for me because she understand the in-depth details of my TTC issues. We had a lovely relaxing week in the sun and came to a few decisions about me. I would go back, have my appointment with the specialist and tell her to put me on Clomid straight away. Then I would wait for my Laparoscopy, but hopefully by then, I wouldn't need one because Clomid would have worked. Two fingers up to the NHS. Hurrah. I was in control again and as I walked back onto Terra Firma at London Heathrow, I was a girl with the power to get pregnant.

Week Four:
Well - that blew that theory straight out of the water. I got home, opened my mail and there it was ..... lurking at the bottom of the pile of endless mail that awaits when you get back from holiday... a date for my laparoscopy next week. NEXT WEEK?!!! I couldn't, I wouldn't, I had plans ... didn't they know? I was that girl who landed at Heathrow only five hours ago. I was in control again. So then it hit me I wasn't. Oh my goodness. What now?

More diary entries from Pink coming to BabyGuide soon...


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