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Hi. Welcome to my "taboo" blog. My name is Steph, and when I first started this, I was still in my thirties. In 2017, I switch decades! I am a Christian, so underlying everything I do and say is the Word of God, and the foundational truths I have learnt over the years. This doesn't mean I'm perfect - I am human. It just means I recognise I need God's help to live this life and try to live out His way, as best I can. So that's me in a nutshell. Thanks for taking the time to read through my blog, I hope you draw strength, hope or encouragement from what you read.

Thursday, September 26, 2013


I have just come had an appointment with one of my Consultant's team. I wasn't sure what to expect, really - I thought he might want to check my scars from the op and talk about the options open to us, or something. Hubby couldn't make it, as the appointment was brought forward a week following a cancellation, and neither could my Sis-in Law.  So I went alone.

Actually, when I was ushered into the room, the junior doctor seemed to have an agenda... He told me that there is nothing more the NHS can do for me, and my only option is IVF (although he was supposed to have read my notes prior to me walking into the room; if he had, he'd have known IVF is not an an option for me, following the severe reaction to Clomid), and asking me about egg sharing or egg donation, and would I consider it if I pursued IVF.

I politely explained IVF wasn't an option for me. It turns out he's misunderstood the Consultant's notes when he'd read "possible referral to CARE" thinking this meant IVF, when it actually had been in reference to a discussion I'd had with my Consultant about Natural IVF... he stopped talking about egg sharing!

He then told me that as the NHS had nothing more they could do for me, I was being discharged. His nurse handed me a leaflet on CARE, in case I did want to look into Natural IVF later down the line, then he told me to "take care".

I was so glad I had my heels on, there's just something about a good pair of high - skyscraper high - heels to make you walk tall after a blow like that. Being discharged brought home the reality of the chapter closing. The door slamming in my face. While I was still "on the books" (so to speak), it felt like there had still been a glimmer of something being left open for me... somehow... even though I knew in reality there wasn't. Daft, I know!

I reckon when I left the room, the consultant and the nurse looked at each other like, "why was she so calm??" OK, so it wasn't just the shoes... The shalom of Jesus kept me from bursting into tears at that moment. Knowing that God has spoken to me, that He will make a way for Bubba, where science and medicine has fallen short, that's what held me together when I left the hospital.

I treated myself to a Costa coffee and muffin and left... this is the last appointment I will have in relation to the fertility problems I have been having. Hopefully the next time I enter, will be as the Journey for Bubba ends and the Journey with Bubba begins...

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