Following on from last weeks post, B is back to share with us her egg sharing IVF journey. To read last weeks post, please click here.
Well, today has been a pretty bad day. It started when I laddered my favourite tights whilst putting them on to get dressed. I am fighting back the tears writing this, I have had a UTI for the past few days, so this morning I made a doctor’s appointment and thought I might as well ask about them doing my screening blood tests for egg sharing. I explained to our GP that we had decided to do egg sharing. This is the GP that referred us to the NHS fertility specialist. I explained that I needed to have some blood tests done and showed him my list from the clinic. He started by saying he couldn’t do any and that I could get the STI ones done at the GUM clinic. He then went to say that he could not do the HIV test, as by law they have to do counselling before hand, then he said he could do the hepatitis and chlamydia ones there. He then told me point blank they would not do my blood type and if they did, I would not have the result and that the Karotyping (genetic) and the Cystic Fibrosis carrier testing could not be done at all, and would only be done if I had been referred to a genetics specialist for a genetics problem.
I just ended up sat in his office crying for about 30 minutes. Honestly, I cannot put into words how devastated I felt. I left crying. The GP genuinely felt bad and we even spoke about how much of a mess NHS funding is and how the priorities are so wrong sometimes.
When I got back to my car and text J to tell him what had happened, I then text my mum. I sat there, cried a little bit more then pulled myself together as I had to get back to work. I had already taken time out for my appointment.
When I got back to work, it was the last place I wanted to be so I painted on my brave face. I work with 20 men. I am one of three girls in the building. No one knows what I am going through; I can’t tell anyone why I was in such a miserable mood. My job is very customer facing. I cannot hide. I cannot ignore people. I have to deal with it and it’s hard on days like this. People come in huffing and puffing and complaining about tiny insignificant things. I want to do is scream at them: “I wish my problems were as tiny as yours.”
I finally got home and started making dinner but I messed up by pouring half the spaghetti into the dish water. I just snapped and broke down. Something so little and silly and I come crumbling down.
So that’s that. Basically we need £500 to pay for blood testing. Financially we aren’t great. We have enough to live and to be fed and keep a roof over our head, but not £500 to spend on blood testing. We are getting married in December but the majority of it has been funded by my family. We basically have to dress ourselves and pay for our registrar. I’m sat here thinking what I can sell, what I can do to make money.
It’s a horrible feeling when your dreams of having a family rely on money. I am not a material person, family means more than any possession ever will to me but now us having a family relies on money and it makes me feel sick. I hate myself right now for putting us through this, for being the infertile one. I’m 25, we have no children, we both work hard, we are healthy, we look after ourselves and all I can sit here and think is why us? It feels like we are being punished for something.
I don’t quite know when my next blog post will be as I don’t know what our next move is. Thanks for reading. I’ve started crying again now and can’t stop. It hurts so much and I had been doing so well at holding it all together or so I thought.