# Another interesting Article in the You Magazine



## pipkin (Jan 14, 2005)

Hi Girls

I know Irisheyes and I should take out shares in the You magazine  but there was an article in last Sunday's mag which you may find interesting. I thought it was a bit flippant at the end but it was overall in interesting read ..

_Infertile - but all is not lost
By GABRIELLE DONNELLY

They said our generation of women could have it all - love, sex, professional fulfillment, and the freedom to plan our families. 
They forgot to mention a little thing called the biological clock - and here's how I found out, the hard way, how very important that was.

I'd always wanted children, but only within a partnership.

Unfortunately, it took me an extraordinarily long time to find Mister Right, and by the time I reached my late thirties, well-meaning friends were urging me to go ahead and have a child on my own - an option which certainly works for some women, but which I knew would not for me.

Yes, I wanted a child, but not just any child. Call me romantic, but the only child I wanted was the child of the man I loved.

Anything else would seem second best; and I felt - and still feel - that starting a family was far too important for that.

When I was 41, I met Owen Bjornstad, and, for the first time, everything fell into place.

I was hesitant at first to fall in love with him, and it was precisely because of the baby issue - I knew that this might be my last chance at motherhood, and was terrified of seeing him as a potential father for my child rather than a mate for myself.

If I fell in love with him, I told him early on, it must be for the man he was, rather than for the child he might give me.

He agreed to wait until I was completely sure. I am now thankful that we did.

When we married, I was nearly 43, and Owen 39. I was old for a first-time mother, but - or so those same well-meaning friends assured me - it was far from impossible.

Women did it all the time, they said. Look at this actress, look at that singer. If they could do it, then surely I - blessed with superb health and coming from a fertile Irish family - would have no trouble.

My being over forty was nothing like it was in our mothers' day, they said. We were all so much younger these days, weren't we?

Three months after the wedding, I fell pregnant, and, oh, we were excited.

It had happened so easily, so naturally, and everything about it felt right.

We began to wonder about the sex - probably a boy, we agreed, as males do dominate in both of our families, but I secretly hoped for a girl.

We bickered, delightedly, over names. At just shy of three months, I miscarried.

Don't be disheartened, said my friends. First pregnancies often don't work out, but the second one should be fine.

It happened so quickly that first time, they promised, it'll happen again very soon.

Just wait for a few weeks to give your body a chance to heal, they said, and start again trying.

It'll happen in the first couple of months. Except that it didn't happen in the first couple of months.

Or in the couple of months after that. And one day I looked at the calendar, and suddenly, I was 44. Time was running out.

I had been unhappy with my gynaecologist for some time anyway, so decided to leave him and seek out a specialist.

The specialist looked at me and frowned. 'You're how old?' he said. 'This will be difficult,' he said.

'But we can give it a try.' It wasn't quite what my friends had led me to believe he might say - but it was all that was on offer, so I went with it.

I followed the directions he gave me and took the pills he prescribed. Nothing happened. A couple of months passed and his frown became heavier.

He said I needed to see someone who would treat me more 'aggressively.'

So I started again with someone else. Who also frowned when he heard my age, but prescribed a different regime and a stronger set of fertility pills.

Again nothing happened except that the months passed and my window of opportunity became more narrow.

We decided to look for another doctor, and while we were in between doctors, I got pregnant again, and miscarried again.

The next doctor - although still frowning - told me that the fact that I had recently got pregnant was a good sign, and prescribed a different set of fertility pills. Once again, nothing happened.

People can bankrupt themselves both financially and emotionally pursuing the dream of parenthood.

Owen and I had sat down at the outset and had a most serious discussion about how far we were prepared to go, both with treatments and with financial outlay - we would splash out on the pills, we said, and try artificial insemination (the not-affectionately known turkey baster method in which Owen's sperm was harvested, cleansed of the normal impurities that sperm apparently carries, and inserted into me by the doctor at my most fertile time - romantic, huh?), but would stop short of IVF.

I am now glad that we had the structure in place. But what no one had prepared us for was the emotional effect of the fertility pills.

During the process, I took two ovary-stimulating pills. Both reduced my emotions to a shipwreck.

Both times, I reported this to the doctor - not even as a complaint, because I understood why this was happening, and was prepared to live with it for the desired end, but simply as a point of information.

Both times I was told, firmly, "This drug has no effect on the emotions."

"Are you telling me," I asked one doctor, through gritted teeth, "that I am going insane?"

"Well, you're obviously upset," he replied reprovingly - apparently believing that most women who take fertility pills, do so for the joy of it.

Meanwhile, the months were ticking by, and I'd be lying if I said our marriage was not feeling the strain.

Owen had married a woman who made him laugh and told him often that she loved him; he was living with a harpy who cried into the night and lied about how much money she was spending on pregnancy tests.

On my side, I saw a man who was able to relegate this worry to the sidelines of his life, while I was constantly monitoring myself for pregnancy signs and spending hours lying with my legs in stirrups while yet another stranger looked, poked, and asked me, yet again, if I was aware of how few eggs I had left.

One thing that didn't suffer, curiously, was our sex life. There are only a few days a month when you can officially get pregnant, anyway, and for three weeks out of every four it was business as usual.

Of the crucial week, there was the occasional time when we weren't feeling sexy, or even particularly loving, but one advantage of being older is that we were able to put those times - and the process of lovemaking - into perspective.

We were never unable to make love. Unfortunately, it turned out that making love was never quite enough.

Looking back, it seems as if that time lasted for decades, but in fact we had only been married for two and a half years when I sat down and asked myself some hard questions.

I was 45 by now, and I had heard that at my age, the likelihood of getting pregnant with the fertility drugs was 2 % followed by a 50% chance of miscarriage.

We had money in the budget for one more round of drugs and insemination - but how responsible was it, I wondered, to spend this money on a fantasy when we could give it instead to a charity for real children?

With a heavy heart, we acknowledged that the family of our dreams was not to be.

If you are to be a childless couple, you need to look hard at the life you intend to lead.

Although many couples choose to adopt, that did not feel right for us; still we also both knew that a life that revolved solely around our own convenience was not enough.

Without children, we have extra time to spare and money to spend, and we consciously make an effort to share both commodities.

We entertain often, are attentive (and popular!) godparents, and let all of our loved ones know that, be they children, old folk, or weary adults in need of a break, we are there to help them.

And it works - we have a life that is rich in love and fulfillment. It's Plan B, but so is much of life - we're old enough to understand that.

To any woman who is trying for late motherhood, I would say this. Do be kind to yourself and to your partner - you are both entering what can be a horribly difficult, and sometimes heartbreaking, time.

Don't let anyone else dictate what you should do, or how you should feel - only you can know that.

Do set a budget - costs can mount up alarmingly. Do as much as you can to make it happen - if you don't, you might regret it afterwards - but don't assume that you will be successful.

The harsh biological fact is that it is extremely difficult to become a mother after 40, and while some women are successful, many more just aren't.

Do know that, even if you are not successful, you will survive; you will mourn, move on, and find another way to lead the life you want.

After all, isn't that what being grown-up is all about? _


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## jomac (Oct 27, 2006)

he pipkin
thanks for that. It's great. I'm going to print it off and share with DH (hope that's OK).
What is You magazine anyway? I've never seen it in shops here at the bottom of the world but it sounds thoughtful

Best wishes Jo


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## pipkin (Jan 14, 2005)

Hi Jo

Glad you enjoyed the read and are going to print it off!  To answer your question, the YOU magazine is a supplement which is found in one of the UK Sunday Papers (the Mail on Sunday).  

I don't think you would be able to get it where you are as I don't think it is sold separately but if you are interested in reading next Sunday's articles then type 'You magazine' into Google and it should come up with the mail on Sunday YOU mag web page..... I would give you the link but I don't think we are allowed to link on the site are we?!

Anyway, have a good weekend Jo and everyone else too.
Pipkin 
x


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## Bandicoot (Mar 8, 2007)

Thanks for sharing that, Pipkin. It's a great article and so true about the general perceptions out there that we can 'have it all' no matter what our age.

Love to all xxx


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## emcee (Apr 3, 2005)

What a great and honest article, you can tell it was written from the heart!That is one brave lady who has bared her soul and who will help many others through it - and hopefully make those who think all of this is 'dead simple' stop in their tracks for a while and *think*

I'm so glad she wrote this - its a message to many who don't get it out there!

Thank you for sharing Pip-pip!

Love
Emcee x


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## irisheyes (Feb 2, 2005)

Pipkin - i missed that article as i didnt get the paper last week. It was very sad and uplifting at the same time i thought.

I met a friend recently and she has had a hard time committing to people-even attends a therapist and feels she is finally coming to the end of a difficult patch as she is with her bf 9 mths now.They are finally talking about getting married but she will probably be 38 when they do.She has mentionned to him that it might be difficult to get pg(he is 4 yrs younger) and at first i was a bit dismayed with her news- being selfish- as i was the first of all my friends to settle down and here we are all these years later with no child together.I was a bit sad that she has " come in at the last post" so to speak and may get the one thing i hoped for.She was never particularly maternal and i think that may have been because she hadnt found the right man.Maybe i should feel more empathy now as she will be starting the pg journey 10 years older than i was.

If it works for her i should be happy i suppose(it will probably be less important than my sisters getting pg anyway which could happen any day).

Take care and think we should start getting paid for these promotions we do!!!


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