#6 Up's & (Mostly) Downs & up's again

03/09/2012
Sorry if I start (& end) with a bit of a rant today, things have been testing my patience & mostly winning.

Why is it, that when you have an appointment, the whole world decides to conspire against you?
Work, Public transport, & people in general just seem intent on not allowing me to get to Sheffield on time &   making sure I don't particularly enjoy the commute either.
What bugged me most is that i'm travelling to a clinic because of our fetility issues & i'm surrounded by people with kids, not just any people though, These are the kinda people who look like they can't look after themselves, never mind the children they have reared. Not that that I begrudge them the right to procreate, it just seems that their only purpose is to rub salt into my wounds.
To add insult to injury I seem to be surrounded by another pet hates. Lots of young girls in denim hotpants & a full face of make up. This look is fine for older teenagers & adults, but not 8 year olds for gods sake.  I hate the over-sexualisation of kids, it scares me to death, & it's certainly not a good look is it?. It actually puts me off wanting kids if they are going to be nothing more than a sex object, & what's even more worrying is... who is it for?
I just hope I can be a good dad & allow my kid(s) to have a proper childhood, like the ones we had as kids instead of being fast tracked to adolescence
(End of rant)

The appointment was relatively straight forward, just recapping on the previous meeting. plus some needle training. Which I can't bare to watch, I don't know what it is that freaks me out about them, I know that (most of the time) they don't really hurt all that much, it's just the though of anything penetrating the skin turns my stomach. Paul, do you wan't to have a go? Haha...er no, I'll pass thanks. Thank god that Libby's sister is a nurse, That'll come in handy so I don't have to assist in anything injection related should the need arise.
We spent the rest of the appointment chatting with our nurse about, what happens if this cycle is unsuccessful.
Because we are being funded by the NHS (tax funded health care - for non English readers) we are entitled to 2 fresh cycles &  1 or 2 attempts using frozen embryo's. So hopefully we stand quite a good chance of success. I just hope that we are successful first time, because the three month wait between attempts will seem like an eternity
We also got talking about us being foster carers, & the girl we care for. the nurse was quite inquisitive on the subject, asking about her mental well being & the health issues, which we were quite happy to discuss. (I can't actually go into specifics with you, because of confidentiality)
I didn't see the nurse's line in questioning actually had a point to it. As it turns out, they had serious concerns as to our as-yet unborn child's safety around a foster child that has a history of health & psychological issues  (the key word here is 'HISTORY' ....as in something that has past). This really didn't seem a problem until we got home & we received a call from the clinic saying that they couldn't allow the treatment to continue until they had written reassurances from social services that a child would be safe in our care with a potential threat from someone / something else under the same roof.
And now we have a welcome return the pessimist that likes to live in my pocket (I carry him around with me for when a stressful situation arises ...and out it comes)
It's times like this I wish I believed in a god, so I could ask him why he's such a vindictive bastard towards me & Libby. Nothing is straight forward, but i suppose if it was, life would be boring (But I'm starting to think that boring would be nice, if only once in a while)
Because of the arrival of Mr Pessimist, my already deep seated doubts in Social services & their ability to know the difference between their arse's & their elbows was suddenly intensified tenfold.
With the treatment now postponed, I had actually given up hope (on everything) I didn't know when the treatment would be able continue, if at all. It seemed like we we're being penalised for being good honest people. I didn't know if social services would hold up their side of the arrangement. Libby was in pieces, I was unbelievably angry (I broke a fan & kicked a wooden cake stand...which hurt) I needed to get away & the poor dog took all the flack, I picked up her lead & we walked for miles to the village where I used to live, probably about a 9 mile round trip. which I'm so glad I did, the fresh air & alone time was the perfect tonic. I got a lot of thinking done, & the main conclusion i drew was. I need to grow the fuck up, go home & apologise for being a dick & face this head on.

I was totally gobsmacked the next day to find social services had actually done a good job for once  & sorted the whole mess out by informing the clinic that we we're the right people to be caring for a foster child such as the one we have & that she is absolutely no threat to anyone & such a situation arise, we would know how to deal with it & we have social & support workers to aid us as a back up plan. Admittedly we did have to make a lot of noise & make threats to quit fostering if it meant we wouldn't be able to go through our treatment. Fostering is important to us but hopefully having a child that would be our flesh & blood is THE single most important thing in our lives
I was still expecting at least a months delay before treatment could start again, but thankfully we can continue on Friday as originally planned ...BRING ON THE INJECTIONS (evil grin)