Creation

"Your blog has been created"
Were ever more thrilling words ever written? Haha, I will try and suspend the melodramatic. Although, I must warn you all, I am currently on some wacky drugs designed to put my body in a menopausal state. So melodrama may in fact end up being the dominant theme of this little blog.

Hello, this is me.

I have just taken my first cautious steps aboard the IVF rollercoaster, although my female partner has been there are done that - the ups, the downs and the final spectacular, exhilirating rush to the finish that produced our little boy, Jay, who turned two last month.

Now it's my turn and I am 14 days into my first round of IVF treatment. That's 28 doses of a nasal spray called Synarel (cue the menopause and the homicidal thoughts) which helps prepare my ovaries for a round of stimulation injections. And they are now more imminent with the arrival of my period today.
Hang on.
What was that? I think I just heard all the men click out of this blog, right? Haha. If you had a penis and had already read the words "menopause", "ovaries" and "period" just five short pars into a blog, would you hang around? Really?

So, hello ladies, and hello to you, lone man who has stood tall in the face of judgment and hung in there, perhaps out of interest, or perhaps because his computer has frozen stuck on this page. In my mind, you are called Terry, you live in a garage above a kebab shop and maybe you are intrigued by this strange IVF process. I'm with you on that one.

I have started this blog to document my IVF...no, I refuse to say it. There will be no "journeys" here - in my mind, journeys should remain firmly confined to the realms of Idol, Biggest Loser and So You Think You Can Dance (and they shall be accompanied by fake tears and sob stories). This is my experience with IVF - it may be like yours, it may be like that of someone you know, or it may be completely different. But like Dr Phil...or someone, once said, "It's healthy to share". And now that I have joined a blogosphere that for better or worse doesn't seem to understand the concept of "too much information", here I go.

Feel that? Butterflies in your stomach, dry mouth and a whoosh of air as, thud!, into your body goes the bumper bar which has just lowered and clamped to your chest. It's meant to secure you snugly into your seat, but you are shit-scared you might fall out, that something will go wrong or it might not be as good as you'd hoped.
Ready? The rollercoaster has just taken off.
Click, click, click. Here we go.