nokids

Enough of being maudlin! At least for the time being… And the question of whether my style should be Mills & Boon or sturm and drang, or preferably somewhere in the middle, I will leave to work itself out as I go on…

I pulled myself together again after the disastrous interview with the dismal and prejudiced BUPA consultant, and decided to get practical. I obtained a booklet from the HFEA setting out details and statistics of all fertility clinics in the UK and I got writing. I quizzed them on their policies with regard to single women and in particular single women over 40.

Eventually, I decided to go to the top – in other words, the most famous and most controversial clinic - and not surprisingly, the most expensive. I was lucky – if you can call it that – as both my parents had died and I had the money (via my inheritance) to make this choice.

I turned up for my first appointment at the very elegant offices of the clinic in central London. Apart from a few obvious additions, it could still have been mistaken for the 19th century private residence of a gentleman of leisure.

The doctor that I saw was a tiny woman behind an enormous desk. She reassured me that she had warmed the speculum beforehand so that her examination would not be too uncomfortable for me – however, she had placed it on the fender near the gas fare – so it was too hot! Ouch!

The radiographer quickly put me at my ease for the scan. It did seem odd undergoing this in what seemed to be a beautifully decorated drawing room!

When I was fully clothed again and back before the diminutive doctor, she considered my situation.

Her medical advice was that I should go straight to IVF treatment, given my age. I was happy to accept that.

Her medical advice was also that I should use an egg donor. I was not happy to accept that – I was still living my fantasy of agelessness. The doctor was happy to proceed in line with my wishes and use my eggs, now that she had warned me about my chances.

We discussed my need for a sperm donor. (I had retired my previous sperm donor!) The clinic had links with a sperm bank. I explained rather diffidently what my requirements were – intelligence, height, background etc. This seemed more intrusive than undergoing a scan and an intimate examination. The doctor quickly made a telephone call, and after a few moments, she interrupted her conversation with the sperm bank to give me some details of a sperm donor that seemed to be what I was looking for – would I like to go ahead with him? I was appalled that I was expected to make such a life-changing decision on the basis of so little information and so quickly – so I said I would have to think about it.

The day had been an ordeal – yet strangely satisfying. At long last I felt I was on my way.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS