57 to Cowes: Procrastinating the day of my training...

 When we were packing to head south for the weekend I hesitated when it came to packing my training gear. Dave questioned me and I responded that it was a whole extra bag to pack and I might not get around to using it. He responded by reminding me that I'd been saying for a while that I wanted to go train on the bridge and this was my chance. So, I packed my gear.... and didn't use it. I should have gone out today, but I was so tired after arriving at 2am and by the time I dragged myself up, my mother in law was ready to go play! We got back, and the evening was beautiful but I still didn't go. And now, like always when this happens, I wish I had.

60 to Cowes: What I'm running to right now...

This one has been on my track list for a while and I absolutely LOVE it. On a tough run, it always seems to shift my focus somehow. I added it to the list back in the late summer of last year when we were making the transition from 10k to half marathon, meaning my track list suddenly needed to get a LOT longer. I'd heard of it first on the AMR podcasts and instantly identified with the message. Although I  only recently openly posted about our situation, the more perceptive among our friends may have harboured suspicions due to the fact that within an hour of heading to the start line of our first half marathon last year I decided to 'give it a meaning' and raise a bit of sponsorship for the Rachel Foundation.


Although I hadn't specifically said why I had chosen the cause I had I felt like people would probably put 2 and 2 together, which was partly the reason it had taken me until we were about to head to the start line to commit to it. By the time we reached the start I was wondering if I was going to regret it, but around 90 minutes later as I climbed the final hills to the sound of Sara Bareilles suggesting it was time to be 'Brave', I felt strangely calm. I think this song will forever transport me back to that moment when I took the first step towards owning and accepting my situation and trying to let it have a meaning.

And since your history of silence
Won’t do you any good,
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?

Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is

- Sara Barreilles. Brave

61 to Cowes: Feeling the Love

(Photo credit)

Since hitting 'publish' on this blog in general yesterday evening, particularly this post, Ive been feeling a little.... um.... funny. In many ways I think I'm still getting used to the fact that I did it. On one hand I felt a weight lifted knowing it was done, whilst at the same time it kind of feels like I've strapped myself into a roller coaster and its pulling away from the station. This isn't a new feeling, I've felt it many times already in relation to the process of the investigations and treatment I am going through.... only to find the ride suddenly parked up again a little down the way. What I do want to acknowledge is the out-pouring of messages of support and love we have received in the last 24 hours. We appreciate every one, thank you so much. Also a massive thank you to all who have gone on line already to sponsor us (you can do so here), we have been really touched by both the responses and sponsorship. We plan to message people personally, but those who know me well know that may be a few days ;).

Whatever happens, I'm pretty sure there will continue to be days when I feel like I need a sweater like the one above. Today happens to be one of those days... but as always, tomorrow is another day! If any one fancies knitting me one though, any shade of teal through to duck egg would be just lovely, or maybe yellow. 

.... actually, no! strike that! Yellow would just make me look like a minion! haha

Rae

P.S. I have also put up Dave's first guest post which was back onTuesday !3th May

62 to Cowes: Pushing the Button...

   So up to this point, the posts on this blog have been written at least in part and worked on (one for each day since May 9th) but not published. Today I am hitting publish on a good chunk. When I started this blog, I kept it in draft form, mainly due to the fact that although we intended to participate in the challenge, we didn't have our charity confirmed and so could not start fundraising until we did. I felt it would be better to put it out there properly once this had occurred. This happened on June 5th, but I then delayed this further due to a period of escalated work commitments.  But this is it, the most important posts from the last month or so are going up now, the rest will follow over the next week or so, but to simplify / summarise...

we are doing this

which involves this

because of this

Rae

71 to Cowes: Phase 3... the not-so-golden-ticket, aka Clomid

   It was with a certain sense of 'meh' that I returned to the Gynea clinic this time, in February of 2013, accompanied by Dave. I seem to remember it was the day after his birthday and valentines day. I was prepared. I felt like a bit of a veteran at this point, they couldn't have too many more nasty tricks up their sleeve to subject me to - I felt like a true warrior (albeit a slightly dis-enchanted one!). We were shown in and our consultant scanned my notes. I have to say I love the way they do this after you enter the room, as if to highlight that they are so busy they have had no time to acquaint themselves with who you are and what your problem might be before hand. In reality, it doesn't matter, the info is all there and I imagine most people don't even notice. In my case however I am always subjected to a look of bewilderment which quickly turns to amazement and some quick-fire questions about my medical history. This particular consultant, a cheery and friendly little chap who I was only lucky enough to encounter once, proceeded to tell Dave to be nice to me as I'd been through a lot and was lucky to have survived. I've always been quite matter of fact about what had happened so many years ago. Whilst I was aware of how precarious my situation had been, it was hearing him say that and his reaction of genuine wonder that I was even sitting before him that really brought it home. Anyway! We already knew the results of the Hysterosalpingogram were good and so he turned to the repeat blood tests. From what he could see they indicated that contrary to what we had been told after the last round I might not be ovulating, or at least only very rarely. You'd think that hearing something like that would maybe be upsetting, but to be honest, it felt like a glimmer of hope. I was tiring a bit of ace-ing tests. If I was truly ace-ing anything then we'd have at least two kids by now, so to actually find a problem was a relief. He suggested Clomid, a drug that jump starts ovulation by inhibiting oestrogen receptors causing a hormone surge that should cause the development of more than one follicle. In a normal cycle only one will develop and erupt at a time. He was careful to explain the potential side effects, which included at worst case scenario life threatening ones, before asking IF we were willing to try it. That really hit me... before whenever I've been prescribed anything, it has just been given, Ive never been asked if I would rather not. We looked at each other, we didn't need to talk about it, we both felt we were willing to try anything. As we exited his office, prescription in hand, I felt a little jittery. This could be it!... our golden ticket to parenthood. I didn't want to get my hopes up. I didn't want to hurt again and I told myself over and over that it was no big deal, it wouldn't work, and we'd be back for our next appointment to discuss the next move. But really, it was too late, and part of me dared to hope.

  We returned home with the drugs and awaited the appointed day. I researched, like crazy, the drug, the side effects, the success rates. I prepared as best I could, and most heart breakingly for me, I contacted a good friend of mine to explain that we would have to pass up on our last possible opportunity to visit her family in Hawaii before they moved on to their next posting. I was gutted. I'm an adventurer at heart and had longed to see the beautiful places she had photographed and described. The chance to do it whilst visiting wonderful friends that we missed so much was a once in a lifetime opportunity. All this came as we were literally on the brink of booking those flight, but when I did the maths (over and over again) it seemed to mean that we would be there during one of my cycles of Clomid and the risk just seemed to great. I mourned the loss of that trip for at least a week, but told myself that it would be worth it if we could be parents before the year was out...

72 to Cowes: Phase 2... getting serious (and a little unpleasant)

coming soon... this post is being proofed

73 to Cowes: Phase 1... preliminaries

coming soon... this post is being proofed...

78 to Cowes: the 'Fertility Closet'

In the run up to our charity selection being confirmed (see yesterday's post) Dave and I have spoken lots about how to handle this. The reality is, as I said previously, this isn't just about completing a new event or distance to us, but a chance to fund raise for a charity. We are both well aware that if we want friends and family to truly get behind us in this and support us, we need to express why this is important to us and be a little bit open about that. Dave commented to me the other day, that this would involve 'coming out of the closet' - not the usual closet people refer to when they use that term, but the 'fertility closet'. So, here we go...


The Rachel Foundation is a research-based charity that focuses on developing therapies for those who are rendered infertile as a side effect of medical treatment, as well as trying to improve treatment for infertile couples. The Rachel Foundation is committed to upholding the wishes of its donors.

The research undertaken by the foundation aims to create an understanding of more efficient and effective measures of fertility preservation and infertility management. The Rachel Foundation, established by CARE, is named after biblical Rachel, wife of Jacob, whose infertility gave the first recorded cry for help (Genesis chapter 30, verse 1).

1 in 6 couples in the UK have trouble conceiving and the number of couples seeking medical help has risen dramatically over recent years. Think about 6 couples you know.... we are that 6th couple. Chances are, you suspected as much, I have been aware for some considerable time that it had to be the worst kept secret going. To the point where it has been quite some time since I have really bothered to try and keep it as a secret. But even so, it is also not something I have been particularly open about. Mainly because it is hard! Ever since setting this blog up I have been aware that this was its purpose... to record not only our physical journey towards being ready to complete our first ultra, but to share our motivation and to ask for support,  and that is not something we can do without being honest about that motivation.

We are excited to take part in the Isle of Wight Challenge. We see it as an adventure, one that we expect to be tough, but that we know will have an end. After 106km we will cross the finish line and experience the elation connected with doing so, all being well. Whilst we don't know exactly what it will be like, we know there will be an end and we know how far we will need to travel to get there.  In our personal lives we are also on a journey with regards our fertility, but the sad truth is we cannot be sure if we will ever cross the 'finish line' we are striving for. It may never come, certainly not in the form we are seeking, we just don't know. And there are countless couples out there who are hurting, mostly in secret, just like us.

And so it would mean the world to us if you could donate to via our sponsorship page to help bring a better understanding of the causes of infertility and more effective treatments one step closer.

Rae

79 to Cowes: game ON!!

Fantastic news today, in that we got confirmation that the event organisers and our chosen charity, the Rachel Foundation, that everything is confirmed and in place for us to participate and raise money for them. In reality we had decided that we intended to go ahead with the challenge no matter what and could have picked another charity if necessary, but despite this there was just something about the whole thing still being a little up in the air that meant for me it didn't seem quite real. Not any more! It really hit me today all of a sudden what we are about to embark on and the amount of work that lies ahead both in terms of training and fundraising. I've been feeling a little jittery (in a good way) ever since... 80 days to go!

Rae