Pay It Forward

It has been a strange week. One filled with good news and bad news and other bits of news in between.

First the good news. After 4 months of trying my wife has managed to find a part time job. It's just around the corner from our house, the hours are pretty much exactly what we were after and hopefully it will hopefully give her a chance to once again become someone other than mother and wife. It's not that she doesn't enjoy looking after the boys. She does. But a full time mum is not who she is and, while she loves her sons very much, she simply needs more. Some may criticise it, some may understand it and others may be totally indifferent. Nevertheless we're pleased and I'm proud of her.
I'm also pleased that I'm no longer the sole earner in our household. It is difficult to explain how much pressure is placed on a person when they become the sole earner in a family of four. Even if half of her earnings will go on childcare, it is still a huge relief that we once again share the burden.

Now the bad news. Today we heard from the clinic where we donated our embryos that none resulted in a successful outcome. The sadness is mixed. We're sad that what were once our little seeds of hope never got the chance to become the lives they might have been, but the success rates of IVF with frozen embryos and the fact that people receiving donated embryos tend to be tough cases meant that the odds were definitely stacked against them.
But for me the greatest sadness is the thought that two couples had their hopes lifted and then dashed by our desire to help them. I know that they are grateful for the chance our gift gave them. You don't deal with the issues donor conception throws in your path without an undying gratitude for the help that all donors give. And yet, as a 'donor' who has also experienced the pain of failed treatment, their trying and failing has a certain poignancy I had not predicted. We had prepared ourselves with how to handle their success. We were not prepared for their failure.

But that failure has also made me more determined. For some time now I have been nudging for more publicity to ask successful recipients to consider donating eggs, sperm or the embryos they have left to other couples in need. It has been an idea that I have been pondering over for some time and now I finally have a plan. With the friends and contacts I have, making a difference should be a piece of cake. All I have to do is formalise my plan and push to get it enacted.

And perhaps, through my actions, hope can be returned to those two couples we tried to help before and plenty of other people besides. So, to use a phrase that is no doubt copyrighted, if any of you have had help from others in your path to parenthood then please 'Pay it Forward' and give to others the hope and the chance that someone else so kindly gave you.

Alternative Writing

As I mentioned in my last post, I'm now a trustee of the National Gamete Donation Trust and, as part of our plans to raise awareness of gamete donation in general, we have a blog to which I've just made my first post. If anyone is interested (and I'll grant you that my first post is not exactly inspiring) you'll find it here:

http://gametedonation.wordpress.com/

TTFN

Richard

Day 736 in the Woolven house

Wow. Two years old. My boys were 2 on Monday. That means it's been 2 years since they were born (obviously) and 3 years since we were in the thick of treatment. The boys now walk and talk and are the most wonderful people I have ever known. Nothing beats the joy of a cheeky smile followed by being headbutted in the testes by a cuddle. The laughs, the giggles, the running around the room making train noises while doing the locomotion, the dancing, the terrible renditions of twinkle, twinkle little star. Each and every one of them on its own is worth the money, the pain and the intrusion of treatment. All of these things I want you to know are fully appreciated for their wonderfulness.

The fact that they are twins, and yet so very different to one another, means that watching them grow is a fascinating experience. There are, in my opinion, only two types of people that will ever understand the bond between twins. People who are twins themselves and people that have raised them. Watching them give each other a cuddle, pass each other a biscuit or give each other a kiss is the most amazing thing in the world.
Like all children they still fight and hit and push and shout, especially now they are able to talk and make themselves understood, but they love each other in such a special way that it's impossible to understand unless you've experienced it.

Nevertheless, raising twins is by no means an easy task and I'm beginning to fully appreciate how old people end up looking, well, old. It's certainly no longer like it was with the sleepless nights and the constant crying, but I wouldn't say it's easier, only different. My wife and I are both permanently exhausted, money is a constant worry (what with the cost of putting two children into childcare prohibitively expensive) and there are days when it's hard to see how you're going to get through the day without locking them both in a cuppboard and going out for a while. Still we plod on through daily life, appreciating the highs and coping with the lows.

My wife is now officially my number one hero in the world (pushing Spiderman into a distant second place) as she spends almost her entire day looking after the boys and yet still has more energy to do the things that need to be done after they've gone to bed. What with all of the birthdays, relatives visiting and parties to organise over the last 4 weeks I have no idea how she is currently still functioning, let alone how she continues to have the patience of a saint with the 3 men in her life. Mrs Woolven, I salute you.

Along the way there have been a couple of surprises. I always thought that talking to a 1 year old about donor conception would be easy. It's not like they're going to judge you after all. And yet finding the right place to bring the subject into conversation is surprisingly difficult. Certainly this year we'll be looking to attend a DCN meeting where hopefully I can find someone to give me some pointers.

I have also ended up as a member of a board of trustees for a donor related organisation. The information is in the public domain so I shall refrain from repeating it here, but it is nice to have somewhere worthwhile to channel some of the little energy that I have left at the end of the day.

The final surprise is that I thought getting over the scars of treatment would be easier. Let me state once again that I would not want any other children in the world and I would go through it all again if it meant ending up back here. But still the wounds that the treatment inflicted on me seem very fresh. Perhaps, as someone who has had to come to terms with living life in the shadow of a cloud of melancholy, some of the problem is that I don't want to let them heal but, whatever the reason, they remain painful at times. That said, remembering what treatment is like allows me to better represent those people still going through it so, in that sense, I think it helps me do my job better.

At the end of it all I recognise how lucky I am in all of this. I have a wonderful family, we're all healthy, have enough money to get by and the support of some pretty wonderful people, including each other. If I could ask for anything it would be that each of you are granted the same.
At this point my mind obviously wanders to Max and Vee who, despite the joy of their pregnancy, are suffering with Max's cancer and the nightmare of all of the decisions, fears and choices that that brings. My thoughts are with you both and I wish you all the luck and strength that exists in the world.

Good luck to you all.

Richard

Changing Feet

My boys will soon have their first birthday. It has been the most wonderful year of my life and, despite all of the pain that came before I would do it all again if I had to. Today one of my boys stood on his own, without support, perfectly balanced in the middle of the room for a good 30 seconds or so. He looked like he could have stood there all day except that once he realised he was standing without support he broke into a fit of giggles and shifted his centre of gravity. We were all so taken aback that he could do it that we kept on trying it, which led to more giggles and sillyness. It was a wonderful end to a very eventful and significant day.


Today was significant for a number of reasons. The first was that we visited the clinic where our donor made his donation. We were given more information about his job, his hobbies and his reasons for starting and continuing to donate. It is amazing how much of an effect such a small piece of information can have on how you feel. He loves drawing and painting, reads the same kinds of books that I do and has a keen interest in history and politics. I had no idea that he and I would share so many things.

Our second discovery was related to our boys genetic siblings. The donor has two children of his own and has donations have led to the creation of another two babies (one of each sex) with a third one on the way. Somehow it was nice to realise that the boys are not alone in this and that one day they may well get the chance to meet some of them. It was a comforting thought.

Finally, today was the day that we gave something back. We delivered our four remaining embryos to a clinic in Manchester for donation to other couples needing treatment. It wasn't the easiest decision in the world to make. We both want more children at some point. But we've agreed that we will adopt when the time is right and it seemed wrong not to let others have the chance that has been afforded to us. It was a strange role reversal to go from recipient to donor and the idea of my boys having full genetic siblings out there is slightly strange but I am glad we have done it and I hope that the end result is two more couples experiencing the level of joy that our boys have brought us.

My parting thoughts are again with Max and Vee today. By now Max will have started his chemo and I hope for both their sakes that they experience nothing but success from here on in. Good luck and be strong guys. You have shown incredible strength up to this stage and I know that everyone here wishes you all the best of luck. Give it hell and never stop fighting.

Richard

Pictures...

It's been too long between posts. I've tried to post four times since the last time but each time the thought has been interrupted and then broken, so instead I have some pictures for you. I said there would be no pictures. I lied.




My thoughts are with Max and Vee, wishing them the best of luck and hoping that everything turns out ok in the end.

Questions

It has been a long time since I last wrote. Longer since my boys came into the world. They are now over five months old and are the as much the centre of my world as I am theirs. But it occurred to me that I have not taken the chance to address the fears that I had before they were born and that I know those of you still struggling with the pursuit of the DI route are still fearful of.

I remember things that, at the time, seemed so important that I thought they would never go away. Questions that I would ask over and over in my head, that would keep me awake at night, would pop into my thoughts the moment I woke. How would I feel about the children that I was claiming that were mine but in some way were not? How would I cope with looking at them and not seeing myself looking back? How would I manage when people remarked that they looked like me? How would I cope when people said that they didn't look like me? Would they somehow know that I was a kind of fraud and react to me differently as a result?

In truth, they have not really passed into my head at all since I became a dad. Of course my boys have no idea that, by blood, they and I are unrelated, but they are too young to care or even understand. How do I feel? I feel great. I have no qualms about claiming my boys as my own because they are mine in every sense of the word, just as I am theirs. How do I feel about not seeing myself in them? Well I do see myself in them. You'd be surprised how many character traits everyone shares and how easy it is to spot behaviour and physical characteristics that we share. How do I cope when people say they don't look like me? Well noone ever has because, at least one of them looks a lot like me and people see what they want to. Some people have remarked on how the elder one looks like his dad or his grandad (my father) and it would be wrong for me to tell them that they're wrong because he does. I remember worrying about what to say or how it would feel when someone commented on their looks but now I'm here I really don't care.

I guess more than anything what makes a dad is what you do and how you do it. Getting involved and dealing with the day to day makes you realise that all of the other stuff was just the 'what if' that will only come to be if you make it. What really matters is how you feel and, once the babies are born and your life changes forever, all you can feel is love and a contented exhaustion.

People can say what they like about what makes a dad but the truth is love, hard work and frame of mind. Love really does conquer all.

Welcome to the World

You will have noticed by their absence the number of posts I have made since my boys were born. The reason for this is that for 90% of the time I am busy and for the remaining 10% of the time I am busy. But today is a special day. Today a new, very important person came to join us.

At 3.20 am today my best friend gave birth to her firstborn son, Alexander James. Their story to parenthood is not one of IF or anything of that kind, but it is still one of trials, tribulations, sadness and joy. Their story is theirs and theirs alone and is not mine to tell but here and now is my opportunity to congratulate them and share their joy. So congratulations Mr and Mrs F and welcome to the world beanie. My boys look forward to meeting their new playmate and, in the meantime, be good for your mum. She is a wonderful woman and the best mum you could ask for.

On a different note, life as a father flies by with things changing all of the time. The boys are wonderful and I have taken a new stance in things. Where my boys come from is not important to me. It may be to them but right here and right now, it doesn't matter to me. There are thousands of people out there in our exact situation for whom this stuff is just not a big deal.

The quiet one is a picture of sweetness and smiles, with an air of cunning and intelligence about him. The loud one is outgoing, gregarious and great fun, if a little short tempered at times. I blame his mother ;-) Still it is very obvious that their mum and I are their world. Often they will only feed from me. We have bitten the bullet and moved to washable nappies and, after some guidance from my brother (long story) everything is going very smoothly. Mostly I would say that life is just great. The four of us are happy, the boys now sleep from 11 until 6ish most nights and parenthood is great fun.

The only downside has been financial. We discovered the other day that my salary does not cover our outgoings. We live a very frugal lifestyle, have no debts to service and only buy what we can afford and yet still things are very tight. I have more or less demanded a pay rise at work or I will be forced to find something else better paid. We shall see what happens.

Anyway, my congrats to Max and Vee on their latest news. I will keep everything crossed for you both. I truly hope that this is your time.

Until I next get the chance to post, take care all.

Richard