Call me ignorant but after months of worrying about not being about to get pregnant before the age of 40, I am not worried anymore.
A sure sign of this is that after months of procastinating with the Police Record Check forms so I can start IVF, I have finally sent my form in complete with cheque. Somehow I don’t think I will be getting it back in time for the 1st September deadline when the new laws take effect.
Apart from the fact that my husband’s form has not been sent in yet, I imagine there will be a backlog of applications from the late rush of couples who have also submitted their forms. Obviously, holding off like me in the hope that they won’t have to do another round of IVF. In any case, I guess it means we might start the next round a little later.
It’s strange but I am less perturbed by the later start this time. In the past, I have pushed my body so hard, doing IVF with only a month break in between cycles. Once, I did a cycle back to back with no break. Now that was hard. All of my attempts, of course, have been done in my futile attempt to racie against my biological clock.
But the truth is, I will be turning 40 at the end of September. I am already in the statistically significant, lower end of the IVF success bracket. A delay of one month is hardly going to make a big difference. I think my body also needs a break to get back to its natural rhythm. The scary thing is that I’ve been doing this so frequently that I don’t even know what my natural rhythm is.
Apart, from that IVF is hard – I am in no rush to start again only to get another negative result. I need emotional space to come to terms with the last seven failed attempts. Maybe my birthday this year will not be about trying to conceive – maybe it will be about relaxing and enjoying myself. Now that would be a nice change.