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We got back late last night. My Blog was not accessible from China. Apparently my ramblings are of a highly sensitive anti-China tone, and I have to be censored.

I was ACHING to just smell and touch my children. Seven days too too long!

About to totally crash right now, two facts I have to share.

1. My cat (of non-existent mouse-catching fame) is pregnant. Theoretically, she is still a 'toddler'.

2. My long-awaited operation is scheduled for tommorrow evening at 7pm.

Full report on the past week to follow.

Too tired to blink. Hard, long emotional day. We had the 'shloshim' (Jewish mourning, one month following the passing, all the friends and relatives go back to the grave again) for our friend that died. I simply cannot beleive that it is a month already, I haven't even had time to actually let this sink in yet, and already a month.

This past week I got my first really ugly comment. I have not published the comment, I am still trying to figure out if I perhaps should.

I wonder how easy it is to 'lash' out at someone 'anonymously', someone who is a complete stranger. My first reaction was of real shock, as it was so clear to me in my head what I had written, what my intentions had been. I knew what I meant. It upset me to think that maybe I had offended someone so unwillingly, that through my words I had the 'means' to unintentionally cause such a reaction from a total stranger.

The people who know me who read this Blog know who I am. They know 'where I came from' and they know 'where I have been'. When complete strangers read my Blog they have a tiny window into my life, a tiny portion which I choose to reveal and therefore have no idea who the 'me' is other than the 'infertile me'. The other 'me' is a Mother (mostly single) who is daily thankful for having the life that lets me be a full-time Mother to my children. This is the 'job' that I waited for my whole life. I was born to be a Mother. Being a Secondary Infertile makes me MORE appreciative for what I have; for having two beautiful, healthy children.

The other 'me' is also a Wife. Wife to an insanely hard-working and permanently travelling man. A man who is my other half and best friend. A man who I seldom see for longer than 10 days at a time. A man who I miss terribly in my 'new immigrant' life in this strange and sometimes very foreign land.

We celebrated Adams' fifth birthday this past Wednesday. At his party last year, I remember being so overcome with sadness, it was two days before we left SA for good. What was supposed to be this great party celebrating his birthday, ended up being a farewell party for all of us. On Wednesday I took a minute, amidst all these new - and once -strange people, I felt very proud of myself. I did it. Through all those really black, sad moments of this past year, I made it to the other side. I have some amazing people in my 'new' life, people who I can really call friends. And I am grateful for being given a second chance. I said once a long time ago, "my children are happy, therefore I am okay", now I feel more like, 'my children are happy, and I am happy.

I am flying to China tommorrow for a week (Purim week), children-less. I did this once before two years ago, I remember the flight was great, I took a sleeping pill and slept the full 12 hours to Bangkok. The first 2/3 days felt so self-indulgent, I could sleep when I wanted to, could do just about anything when 'I wanted to'. By day 4, it started to get to me, every aeroplane that flew over, every jungle-gym, every new experience, all I wanted to do was to share it with the children that were NOT by my side. They were both having such a great time at my in-laws, that they did not evn want to speak to us when we called every day.

My operation is final and booked. We get back late on the 25th, then the 26th we have the 'Shloshim' for our friend that died, this means back to the Cemetery. More tears, more reminders and more sadness. Then on Thursday, the 27th I will have my operation, hopefully restoring me to a semi-fertile person. I can't wait.

Revised plans and new hopes.

Another week gone.

Death has an awful way of making you wake up a bit, and realising what you have. Being grateful and appreciative. Not 'sweating the small stuff'.

After much internal debate I have decided to postpone my operation and to go with The Donor to China. It is a work-related trip for around 7 days and the children will stay with my in-laws - they are happy as that means unlimited television.This was a gut-wrenching debate, I did NOT want to postpone this operation, I wanted to move on as quickly as possible, to remove/fix whatever is wrong with me and be moving on to my next IVF. There is this drive, almost an addictive need to start the 'next' IVF as soon as possible, clinging on to that Hope. I said a thoughtless thing the other day to my mother-in-law, I thought it over and realised that I had totally "missed the plot". I said that there was NO way I would be postponing, not by a week, not by a day, as this operation is the most important thing in my life right now. Thats' not true though. What I do NOT have is NOT the most important thing in my life, what I HAVE is the most important thing in my life. I have been truly blessed by having two healthy and amazing children, and I have a husband who loves me, and who at the moment would like nothing more than for his wife to come with him on this China trip. I have to re-focus, I want and need some time just with him. And I need to give my (lack of) fertility OBSESSION a break, even if it is just for 10 days. So, decided, done, we will fly around the 18th, be back in Israel around the 29/30th, and I will schedule the operation for the 31st.

My Profman is not actually going to do the operation, another doctor is. His expertise is Laparoscopic surgery, I met him last night. He wanted to meet me and get a case history from me and also do an Ultrasound for himself. My history is long and involved, I was scheduled for a quick "10 minute check", I don't think he was expecting what he actually got. The internal examination was the worst I have ever had, usually I can try and find things to laugh about in yukky/awkward situations, but there was nothing. It was just plain horrific. I kind-of went 'on him', then 'off him', then back 'on him' throughout the hour that I was with him. Two major 'on him' factors: 1. He promised me that under NO circumstances whatsoever would he perform a Laparotomy, it would ONLY be a Laparoscopy. And, 2. I asked him how my chances for falling pregnant would increase after the Laparoscopy, he answered that if he came to me after the operation and said that he was 'happy' with the outcome (meaning that he had been able to remove all the adhesions and Endometriosis, and fix/remove my Fallopian Tube) then he looked at my and said "You will be pregnant again!". Cool!!!

Death

What a horrific week.

I dealt with death, if that is possible, to actually 'deal' with death. I think it is more like 'feeling and breathing' death.

A very close family friend died of a heart attack early last Shabbat morning. He was in South Africa with his youngest daughter, and his wife was in Israel with the two elder daughters. His body had to be flown to Israel, he was buried on Monday evening on a cold and rainy night, close to midnight with close to 200 people saying their last goodbyes.

The most traumatic part of all of this has been watching people I love so much have to suffer and have this constant heartbreaking sadness with them. To see the wife totally broken, her lights out. To know that there is nothing I can do. Nothing anyone can do.

The Jewish faith has specific guidelines and rules of what to do in any situation, be it happy or sad. When someone dies the direct family members (parents, spouse, siblings and children) sit Shiva for 7 days from the funeral. This involves them doing nothing other than sitting on low chairs and 'receiving' people who have come to express their condolences and pay their last respects. A Shiva house is a very sad place.

The Shiva ends tommorrow night, and then we all go back to the grave again on Monday morning. I have no idea what to do afterwards. After the Shiva ends, after all the people go, when the mourners have to try and start piecing their shattered lives together.

How do you support someone who feels like she has nothing left to live for?

Almost pregnant

Just as I expected, it was all in vain. All the prayers, all the blessings, all the millions of injections, all the pills, all the pessaries, the anaesthetic, all the poking and prodding in my innards, all the loss of dignity, the praying and pleading at the Wailing Wall, all the stupid 'positive thinking' and all the hope. All in vain.

Negative. Again.

I really knew it, the urine sticks of the past week had already confirmed this fact. So no real shocker.

Just such a shame, also knowing that 'they' or one of 'them' really tried, but just couldn't quite make it.

So what does it mean, was I pregnant? Technically, yes, for all of 5 minutes. Does it mean I miscarry now? I really don't know. I think it is called a 'chemical pregnancy' or 'chemical miscarriage' or something like that.

I have spoken to the Profman now and he asked me to call again on Sunday to decide our next step, ie. Salpingectomy; complete tubal removal. I am doubling my chances by doing this.

So onward with the drama that has become my life.

Crap night, couldn't sleep. Husband snored all night. Succumbed to doing a home pregnancy test at 3 am this morning. Bad move. It was as negative as negative could be. So preparing myself for either low or nonexistent Beta.

And I have a stress-induced cold sore on my nose. Just wonderful. Ugly, un-pregnant, fat and red-nosed. And tired.

I just don't get God at all.

Tiny ray of sunshine

Got a tiny ray of sunshine today. A friend called this morning and told me that when she was pregnant with her twins, her day 12 Beta was in the 20's. Point being, that she then went on to have two beautiful and healthy twins. My day 13 Beta was 21, so there might just be something to get excited about here. I have to go for the next Beta on Thursday morning.

'slow' negative

Two things.

Firstly - I was blown away by the support from all the other 'infertiles' out there. I went into each commentors' Blog, and was humbled by everyone elses baggage, here I am with my issue and there are all these amazing strangers giving me this wonderful support and encouragement, while they are all having there own issues; heartbreaks and happinesses. How wonderful that we all share this common language. Thank you.

Secondly - I wish this agony would just be over already. I have done my homework, I know how this is probrably going to end. So just 'end' already, why drag this all out? Why couldn't it just have been a definitive negative, I would have had an immediate reply. A full-stop, and a 'next-step' already formulating in my head. Ok, I know there is an ounce of hope, it is just such a tiny little ounce. Still, right now this just feels like a really 'slow' negative.

This just gets weirder

Todays' Beta Hcg was 21. We were hoping for a nice doubling to 30.

So three possible scenarios:

1. It is a tubal pregnancy. Will only be able to confirm under ultrasound at 6 weeks.
2. It is not a viable pregnancy and will 'fall away' by itself.
3. It is one tough little fighter, hanging on for dear life.

I have to go for another Beta next Tursday. This will show if the levels are climbing appropriately or not.

Will take it from there, right now I am numb, I cannot allow myself any joy whatsoever. There is such a small chance though.

+/-

I had no internet connection yesterday.

So the results of my Beta were 14. In laymans' terms, it means that it was really low, it should have been around 80-ish. So I am neither positive, nor negative.

This agony is just being drawn out.

I have to go for another Beta tommorrow, hopefully it would have doubled to at least 30, if so, then that will be good news. If not, I just don't know.

That's it.

.....?

2ww
d8p3dt (Day 8 post 3-day transfer)

Three full days left till I have to do IT. Now I am just obsessing because I don't feel anything. Not an ounce of any nausea. I lay on my bed on my stomach last night misinterpreting a bit of indigestion for nausea, but that has been it. Nothing else.

My 'love, hope, courage' ring is permanently pointing itself to 'courage'. Why? Will I be needing 'courage' soon? Have my 3 transferred embryo's each split, and am I now expecting sextuplets. Oi, what a thought! No, I don't think it is anything as ambitious as that. Maybe I need courage for 'Plan B'. Removal of tubes? Dunno.

Good news

Still in my 2ww (two week wait)
d6pd3t (Day 6 post day three transfer)

I got the letter from the Hospital today saying that FOUR embryos were frozen from my last cycle. I am over the moon. This is really really good news.

So, all in all we have 5 frozen possible babies. 1 from my first IVF in Israel, Sept 2007, and now FOUR more.

Brilliant news.

Tribute to Sheldon Cohen by Steven Bacher

I just can't get these horrors out my head, this story haunts me. I think about his family sitting Shiva, about his wife and two sons. About his parents. I went to a wedding a few years back and was introduced to Sheldon's wife Leslie, the introducee used to work for Sheldon and knew the family very well. She told me something about him which sticks with me to this day, that once a week, he would have lunch with his sons. He would take time out of his madly chaotic business life, pick them up from school and give them perfect quality time. Come hell or high water he would do this weekly. What a wonderful gift he gave to his children. What a wonderful father.

His father, Jack, I see him crying. Apparently when he was shot he was on the phone with him, Jack then rushed to the scene and found him. How unbeleivably sad.

Does anyone know what is going on there? It is just one massive down-hill spiral. Johannesburg has become a gangland. I know. I lived there. I know how I lived. It is easier for me to look back now, big fancy house, beautiful garden, swimming pool, wanting for nothing, but awake at night listening for sounds, bolted doors, laser-beams in the garden, electric fence, industrial magnetic locks, armed response, pulling out of my driveway and back in, nightmares of all the terrifying possiblities. It was not real life.

That familiar fear sits in my throat as I type.

One of my best friends, tied up and robbed in her own home, the police said thank goodness she wasn't raped. Another friend murdered, shot point-blank in her head at work, for her worthless cell-phone. Another close friend, tied up, pistol whipped and robbed in his own home while his daughter slept upstairs, again the police said, well thank goodness she wasn't raped. A close friends' father-in-law tied to a chair at his work and then strangled to death with a wire hanger. Another friend, tortured with a stun-gun for hours along with his wife and children. Countless hi-jackings. And ofcourse us. My husband tied up, my tiny children witness to horror, guns and violence, and our only advice: 'Go and buy a gun'. A stranger murdered while mowing his front lawn, and thousands of other strangers whose lives are ended/shattered every minute of every day.

Now, as someone who has left, I feel this differently to when I lived there. I see the difference between my reactions and my friends and family who still live in South Africa. I feel it now, I understand the abnormality of it now. Then, I was totally de-sensitised, when you are surrounded by daily stories, daily headlines filled with those abominations - you cope. You have to, you cannot curl up and sit in a corner sobbing, you have to carry on. So the more death and violence you see, the more sensitivity you lose. You made it through another day, you have not joined the statistics yet. You are waiting your turn, and until it comes, you cope.

Like an ex-boyfriend who becomes a hopeless crack-addict, you still love them, but not what they have become. I am a South African and South Africa will continue to be my biggest love lost.

for Sheldon Cohen by Steven Bacher (thanks Lisa)

"There are days when I feel like getting on a plane and flying out of this country and never coming back to this murderous land.

Last night a close friend of mine and great South African, Sheldon Cohen was shot dead for no reason by scum of the earth robbers while waiting for his son to finish soccer training at Balfour Park. The bastards tried to rob a woman of her cell phone and for no reason ran past Sheldon and shot him in the neck. Sheldon was a great South African.

He was head of wits student magazine and an active member of Nusas in the eighties. He then went to study at Harvard University in the US and he obtained the best marks in the history of the illustrious university by a non American for the coveted Harvard MBA.

With job offers from any corporation in the world, he chose to come back to this country to make it better. He started the monitor group and then became a director of Amap formerly known as Tedelex.

He was compassionate, brilliant, generous, kind and hysterical at times, he was so talented in all he did. He is no longer with us. His two young boy's Zack and Noah don't have a father and his wife is a widow. And jack and Betty have lost a beautiful son.

He is just another of the 55 South Africans murdered every day of the year of every colour, the second highest murder rate in the world. We have become a sick nation whose leaders have no answer to the collapse of the moral fibre of filth that wait for us in every road and driveway.

They kill us, they kill our sons and daugthers , they kill our mothers, they kill our fathers .

They kill our spirit. And in the end they will kill us all. This is not socio -economic. This is evil personified.

Lucky Dube, Sheldon Cohen, it doesn't matter. I am becoming less and less proud to call myself a South African.

In fact I am becoming embarrassed to call myself one.

Just as much as I used to under Apartheid."

Jihadi's and sombre thoughts

I was a bit apprehensive about coming to stay at my in-laws, I am the kind of person who really likes my space, but I think I might just be getting used to this life of pampering. I almost feel like I am on holiday a bit. No dishes, no cooking, no cleaning, no washing, no folding, no floors, no bathing and no feeding. The hardest part of my day is deciding what I will eat next. This is Mauritius all over again! I am really honoured to have married into this wonderful, caring, and warm family. Nothing is too much trouble for them, all they want to do is help me.

Today so far I have Blooged-about and read. I am reading 'The Red Tent' by Anita Diamant, I started it a while back and then life caught up with me, but now I have unadulterated t.i.m.e on my hands, next book in line is 'The Book Thief'.

Yesterday two suicide bombers made their way into the city centre of Dimona in Israel and tried to blow themselves up, one succeeded, killing one Israeli woman, and the other was intercepted by a policeman. The footage on tv was real-life, in- your-face death, the second unsuccessful bomber lay on the ground wounded, trying repeatedly to reach inside his clothes to pull the trigger to blow himself up, he was shot dead by a policeman, before he could finish his little Jihadi-mission. Real life in Israel.

My heart goes out today for a devastated family who lost their triplet girls this past Saturday. You can contact them directly to offer your support or to read their story: http://maryellenandsteve.wordpress.com/

My world today seems to be filled with sad news, sad thoughts. Sadness about more horrific senseless murderous stories from South Africa. Sadness for a once beautiful country that had everything going for it, all the prospects of a bright and shiny future gone.

Horror...................and sandwhiches

In todays newspaper (Ha'aretz) was the most horrific story. An eighteen month old baby boy died in a Tirat Carmel hospital from an overdose of the heroin-replacement drug Methadone. The 27 year old mother along with her drug addict boyfriend are suspected. The police believe the boyfriend administered the drug to the baby with the mother's assistance.
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The extra line-spaces are there for a purpose ie, to let the above really sink-in.

Last night signalled the beginning of my self-imposed EXILED bed-rest until I do my bloods. The Donor flew back to South Africa last night and I have come for a bit of R & R at my in-laws. When I arrived here (sans children - they had arrived earlier), my mother-in-law (MIL)told me that she had had the following conversation with the children earlier:

Adam: I am the first-born (bit of a big deal in Judaism)
Noam: I am the second-born
Adam: No, you are the 'sandwhich'
MIL: What do you mean?
Adam: We will have a baby next year, so Noam will be the sandwhich (in-between).

Weird and totally freaky!