How good it is to be naive…………… When I left school I seemed to spend the whole of my time worrying about getting pregnant. Had I taken the pill on time, would the injection really work and what about all of those horror stories that I had heard - could you really get pregnant whilst using condoms?
Along came prince charming…….
I met my husband when I was 18 and had a fantastic life together for three years before we decided that children was the inevitable next step. Although we weren’t using charts, thermometers or ovulation sticks (yet!) I stopped using any form of contraception and stuck to the ‘if it happens it happens’ method. Two years later and by now using the charts, thermometers and ovulation sticks it still hadn’t! Looking back we had both started to show signs of concern, we made comments in a jokey kind of way that nothing was happening and playfully blamed each other, but, when it comes down to it who really wants to be the first to admit that there may be a problem? (although my husband is very good at putting his head in the sand and still says to this day that if we had tried more then maybe we would not have had to have treatment, but then again he still believes in fairies!) Anyway, after gentle persuasion he finally agreed to accompany me to the doctors to see why I couldn’t get pregnant, god forbid it could be anything to do with him. The doctor agreed that we had been trying long enough and had carried out all of the normally prescribed methods so referred us on to a consultant at the local hospital.
THE NEXT COURSE OF EVENTS TOOK PLACE OVER THE FOLLOWING THREE YEARS
The dreaded day arrived…………..
As we sat in the hospital waiting room its surprising how well your imagination takes hold of you and you start thinking that everybody knows why you are there. Not only do they know why you are there, but, you yourself start to play the guessing game of why they are there, but always in the back of your mind your thinking thank goodness its not just me! After waiting ½ hour we were called into the consultants room and questioned about our sex life. How much, how often, treatments used, pains, sprains and shoe size (well it felt like it anyway). It was decided that from there I should be booked to have a laparoscopy due to my painful and irregular cycles and that my husband should have to perform the dreaded sperm test.
Off we went appointments in hand, smiles on our faces ready and willing to start the journey into parenthood. How exciting it was, a few tests, maybe some pills and baby Bowers would surely be on the way - little did we know.
What do you mean Endometriosis……..
I awoke from my anaesthetic in some degree of pain, but, comfortable in the knowledge that the worst must surely be over, my consultant came to give me the results. As I lay there waiting for him to tell me that everything was fine and that I could go home and start my new life as a mum the words coming from his mouth sounded very different. Whilst performing your laparoscopy we found some thickening and scaring and performed some laser treatment bla bla bla bla bla. I remember laying there afterwards thinking well at least they have cured me. I returned home later that day, recouped for another day and returned to work safe in the knowledge that I was fixed, now just my husband and off we go.
What do I do with it now………………….
With my tests and procedures out of the way it was now left to my husband to finalise our problems and put our infertility to rest. He was given a pot on the first day that we had left the hospital and a sheet explaining what he must do (as if he didn’t know, he has a degree in it!) After careful consideration he picked the best day for him, he wasn’t washing his hair or going to the gym and it meant that if he timed it right he could be back at work by lunchtime. The chosen morning arrived, I got ready for work, checked one last time that he understood the protocol, timings and importance of body temperatures whilst in transport and left.
(The following is my husbands recollection of events)
Right this is it, showered, dressed and ready to go, pot named, dated and time recorded to the second. After I did my thing I jumped in the car and headed straight to the hospital, we only lived about a five minute drive away, but, parking was always a nightmare and seen as I was on a deadline there was no time to lose. So with my pot placed carefully under my arm (I had been threatened by pain of death that if it got cold it would not only be my sperm that died) I rushed to the hospital. What a result every set of traffic lights was green, no one trying to cross at the crossings and yessssss a parking space directly outside pathology, it really was my lucky day. As I rushed into the reception, following the route planned a thousand times in my head, I glanced at the clock. What, how can it only have taken me three minutes to get here it must be a new world record, feeling thoroughly pleased with myself I continued towards the desk. Then it hit! as the woman behind the desk looked up at me thoughts rushed through my head, three minutes, she would know that from the time that I had carefully imprinted on the bottle, would she think that I had completed it in the hospital toilets, worst still the car park, should I make my apologies and leave, no that would look even more suspicious when I returned five minutes later to give in my sample, even worse what if it got cold. With that I muttered some inaudible words to the lady behind the desk, commented on the weather or some such and reached under my jumper to obtain the sample. After practically throwing it her I turned and left sharply I am sure she was telling me something about not being embarrassed, but it was hard to tell as I had at this point passed the speed of sound in the corridor - trust me women really do have it easy!
The results are in……………
I returned home later that week and knew straight away that the results were in. My husband who is usually in the bath, head in the fridge asking what’s for dinner or playing football on the computer when I get home (he really is good practice for my future as a mum with teenage children) was instead grinning from ear to ear at the top of the stairs performing what I could only presume was his version of the worlds strongest man. I didn’t have to ask as I knew it must be good news ,but, was told again and again and again - ‘ask me what the result was, ask me what the result was’. With this he proceeded to inform me that the women at the hospital had told him that even just a few drops of his sperm would be enough to populate a small island and that it was definitely not him that was the problem, he really was a full red blooded male! After I managed to get him to tell me what the results really were I too was pleased that his island populating sperm were ok.
Phase two over with, onto the next step…………
Well with the good news about my husband growing into a fable which I could only imagine would be the most popular story told to our friends at every available opportunity - weddings, christenings and even funerals if grieving permit our infertility was now to be labelled unexplained.
Unexplained what a ridiculous statement……………………….
What a stupid thing to call it of course it wasn’t unexplained I could explain it very well. My husbands sperm and my eggs were incompatible, did that mean that we to were incompatible? maybe someone was trying to tell us something - it’s a good job I am not a god fearing woman otherwise I may have just up and jumped ship that very day! Well with the past behind us I was determined that I wasn’t going to be left childless.
Clomid, IUI, IVF, ICSI - where was the menu, I must be in Chinese restaurant……….
Once the doctors had agreed that our infertility was not going away they also agreed that we should start on the first steps of the ‘treatment ladder’. Clomid - the doctor agreed with the nurse would be the next logical step and then seemed to explain the complications again and again. What did I care if I had a multiple birth - telling someone who couldn’t at present have children that they may fall pregnant with twins, even triplets was not a frightening prospect it instead thrilled me, even made me imagine what it could be like to have multiple children all at once. Painful was the first thing that sprung to mind, then how cute they would all be, then how great it would be shopping for their clothes - already I had my very own Walton household. Unfortunately three treatments in and nothing, they then told me that I had had my life’s quota of Clomid????? and sent me on my way to await my next appointment with a specialist to discuss my options and what the future would hold in store.
I left the hospital with all of the leaflets on fertility treatments they had available - if you have ever seen any of these leaflets you will understand what I mean when I say Chinese, Thai and Indian restaurants don’t have a patch on the menu for infertility patients. I would battle the western world of cuisine any day if it meant that I didn’t need to decipher which treatment would probably be best for us, thank god for doctors in the know.
Yipeeeeeeee finally I was going to get IVF - or so I thought......................
I returned to the Hospital some three months later for my referral consultation. I spent the first ten minutes of the appointment going through why it was that I was there and the next twenty minutes being told what I had already been told on every other appointment - this wasn't unusual, I dont think that I had ever seen the same doctor twice and to be fair to them why should they know who I was and why I was there - maybe because its their job!? I left shortly after being told that I would be referred, the doctor wasnt quite sure where or when or how long the waiting list was but assured me that I would have an answer shortly. I was at last feeling a bit more positive, I mean the doctor had said that it wouldn't be a long wait hadn't he!
A letter through my door..........................
To my amazement it was only a few weeks later that I received a letter through my door to say that I had been referred to a hospital in London and that I would be sent an appointment in the near future. As you can imagine I was over the moon, I phoned my husband immediately, checked his holiday availability and told him to warn his work that he may need to take days off here and there as required by the hospital. Then I phoned the family to tell them the good news, they all congratulated me and said 'see it won't be long now, I told you not to worry the doctors will sort you out'. I sat in the garden that afternoon in sheer euphoria, my prayers had been answered I really would be a mum soon.
Euphoria cut short...................................
Suddenly I realised a week or so later, how could I have been so stupid we had booked a holiday for two months time. It was only to be a short break away in England, but this could effect the schedule that I would be under, or I could miss a vital appointment - I better phone to check the progress of my appointment and inform them of the break to see if this would matter, besides we could always cancel! I came off the phone some ten minutes later, my world shattered and my only thoughts being that of utter dispair, I phoned my husband to tell him the news. Now my husband has never been one for dramatics and always seem to deal with things much better than I did but I think even he was devastated. I had been told on the phone that there would be no chance of me getting an appointment for atleast 6 - 9 months and when I say appointment I didn't mean starting treatment the lady had told me that at the moment they where seeing ladies that had already had their initial consultation 18mths before - in short I could expect atleast 2-3 yr wait, oh and I forgot, lucky me, because I was still young it could be longer as there are older ladies that may come on the list further down the line and take priority, how wonderful it is to be young, no offence to ladies that are older and in my situation as everybody deserves a chance, but to wait this long only to be told up to three years or more I am sorry but what about me!.
If you ask no I can't have children.........................
Don't you just love being asked, what seems to be everyday, the same questions 'so when are we going to hear the patter of tiny feet' or 'so now your married I suppose you will be starting a family?' or better still being told 'you'll never guess what I am pregnant, I can't believe it I wasn't even trying - I am really not sure if I want another child!' I came to the conclusion very early on, after my shock of the century and the thought of the marathon wait, that I would now tell people that I could not have children and that would be the end of it and it was. People don't tend to continue when you bark this at them, it seems to take them back a stride and they change the subject - why hadn't I thought of this before I could have had years of peace and save the embarrassment of both them and me when I tried to explain the unexplained and so life went on, me resigned to the fact that it would never happen and my husband still with his head firmly buried in the sand!
Fostering, Adoption, long term care - this would definitely be the answer...........
After a few more months and in the cold light of our despair I came across an add in a magazine. My husband had been fostered when he was a child and wanted to give something back and I had always wanted to help children in care after my previous employment within this sector, after long discussion we both agreed that we still had a lot to offer and that this may well be the answer. I signed up for the ten week course, filled in the personal questionaire and we where off. To my pleasure we where accepted and begun the course, I couldn't believe it, only three weeks in and we where called to the office. Fast track we where told, they had had a meeting previously and had decided that after the first few weeks of the course that they felt that we would be perfect, they even had a child in mind! They wanted us to fast track the course so that we would be ready earlier than planned, so that we could meet the child and progress, initially short term fostering and then who knows. We left the training that day so happy. All the way home from Kent we talked about the possibilities, what could happen in the future, how many children we would like to take on, we went to bed happy happier than I can remember for a long time, the thoughts of the past distant for once. Life really may go and get better, however, this was to be short lived.
One last ditch attempt I hear myself say......................................
A few days later reality again reared its ugly head, was I really ready to give up? to wait what seemed a life time for treatment on the NHS with a less than 25% chance of success? or did I want to take the bull by the horns one last time and fight for my chance to have a family? besides we could still foster even if the IVF worked, couldn't we?. I spoke to the Fostering agency and told them of my plans to fund my own treatment through re-mortgage and asked if we could still complete our training, they agreed. I told my husband of my plans to find the best clinic ever and fund it ourselves and after gentle, ok forceful combat, he agreed even if he thought we couldn't afford it and so the fight was back on!
How many clinics are there, how do I choose?.........................
When I first started looking into fertility clinics I wasn't as clued up on the internet as I am now, in fact we didn't even have connection at home! Instead I spent many a day looking through magazines and on the phone to directory enquiries looking for local clinics. I found a few and rang for their information leaflets, some offered open days which I took up and dragged my husband along to help change his mind (which was quite difficult what with the bag of sand that he still had his head in firmly attached!) - What was it going to take to get him to attack this in the same determined manner that I was?
However, I rapidly began to realise that the open days were in fact making things worse - not only did my husband still think with more trying we would succeed, it seemed that the fact that nobody would give us a straight answer as to how much it was going to cost was literally scaring him in the opposite direction - out the door and back to bed for more trying!!!!!!!!
I'm floundering...............................
Have you ever felt like you are fighting to walk through a crowd heading in the opposite direction? The more I spoke to clinics and the more information I received the less I wanted to make the most important decision as to where to have my treatment, I was confused to say the least. To start with I didn't understand the terminology and more so I was confused about which treatment I needed - IUI/IVF/ICSI?, how much the medication is going to cost? how many times I needed to see the consultant and could I limit it and there for the cost? Should I just go for statistics and forget about the costs - or do they just pluck them out of thin air?
Hang on does anybody actually care about me or is it all just about the money?????????
Light at the end of the tunnel...........................
I sat one afternoon in my brothers garden watching his children play and wondering if there would ever be cousins for them to play with, when my sister-in-law must have seen from the look on my face that all was not well in the Bowers camp. They where fully aware of the past years and their toll on our relationship and indeed our happiness and often tried to help boost our confidence and optimism, however this day was to boost my optimism in a way that I had not felt since they tattooed failure on my head some 6 years ago! She told me of a family member in Sweden who had just been referred to a hospital for treatment which was having fantastic results and pioneering new methods, did I want her to phone her and find out some more details?
Well what did we have to lose and besides you never know there could be some light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel!
Why hadn't I thought of this before......................
A few hours later we were sitting on the internet looking at the website for Falun Hospital, its a good job we where still at my brothers as my Swedish is limited to hello, goodbye and yes and No - not much use when you are trying to read about a fertility clinic! My sister-in-law translated it all for us and we went home to discuss the possibilities further. Well what was there to discuss, higher statistics, a set fee and a hospital that looked like something out of the future (equivalent to the top of the private health care tree!). I returned to my brothers the next morning so that they could phone the clinic, as I seemed stupidly scared at talking to them - what if they didn't understand me or I didn't understand them! I had spent quite a lot of time in Sweden before, but, maybe it was just luck that everybody that I hadn't spoken to on those occasions spoke English. My sister-in-law phoned the number and for some reason I held my breath as if my life depended upon that conversation. She said a few words looked at me and passed me the phone - sheer horror hit me!
I am so stupid at times.............
I can stand in front of thousands at conferences and talk till I am blue in the face, I can ask for condoms in the supermarket and not even blush, but why was talking to somebody in another country so daunting? I needn't have worried, I spoke at length to Maria the head nurse about my options, the statistics and how me coming to Sweden was going to work and then to my utter amazement she suggested that I phone back in the morning to speak to 'Urban', yes that's right Urban not Dr Urbanstrom or the consultant - Urban! I asked if she was sure and she then seemed to be the shocked one, "yes of course" she said "he would love to talk to you"!
The next morning again I held my breath as the phone seem to be saying England calling Sweden, England calling Sweden as it rang and sure enough Urban answered. "Urban Waldenstrom speaking" - my god it was him!
What a truly nice man.................
I have never felt such a feeling of calm after speaking to a doctor, usually it left me with more questions and confusion over the ones that I had asked. Urban (It still feels strange now to have such a good relationship with somebody who in this country we put on a pedestal and wouldn't dream of calling a friend!) Urban answered my list of questions, that I had made since the evening before, in a way that I could understand. His English was perfect, as had been all of those that I had spoken to at the hospital and his manner was both confidence boosting and instilled a level of optimism like I had never felt before. He was so sure that he could help and he really cared about me, yes me, not the money, the problems, where and what I had been through before, but how they could support me in the future, make the journey easier, make the treatment fit my needs perfectly and be there when ever I needed them. I left the phone that day with all of the information I needed, set costs, contact numbers and addresses, and even Urbans personal mobile number, in case it should be the weekend when they are closed and I was worried or had a problem!
I have never in my life been given a consultants personal number, it seems hard enough to get their secretaries office number, but here this is normal.
All arranged for me...............................
I spoke to Urban a number of times after this initial conversation discussing how to get my medication, schedules, scans, viral blood screening ect. It was only mentioned in passing that I was going to stay with my brothers family in Ostersund the following month that everything fell into place so neatly. Urban was good friends with a Gynaecologist, who also referred couples to him, based in Ostersund, this would be my pre-treatment doctor - Urban set the wheels in motion and I was contacted shortly after by the Gynaecologist. The plan would be that I would go and stay with family in Ostersund have my pre-treatment carried out and then attend Falun for the egg collection and implantation.
D Day..............................
The time passed quickly and I was soon on my way to Sweden, looking back now it seems a blur of tests, scans and medications. I stayed in Ostersund as planned until I was ready to go to Falun, having my pre care carried out whilst there. Andrew stayed in England until we where ready to go to Falun and then flew out the day before. I arranged our accommodation in Falun with the help of Maria and Urban (a beautiful river house). We then boarded a train direct into Falun, excited at the thought of the most important week of our life in front of us. We arrived in Falun, deep in snow, and sunshine.
Falun is a fantastic place, a large town, almost city on the edge of rivers, lakes and forests. It has everything you could possibly desire, including one of the largest hospitals in Sweden. Nestled in the heart of the hospital is IVF Falun, the place that would hold our dreams and expectations in its hands for the coming week and fingers crossed make our years of upset, anger and frustration vanish in the push of a needle plunger.
White stockings and hospital gowns, not really the way you imagine you will conceive your children...............................
I attended the hospital on the second day that we where in Falun to have my egg collection. I felt like a V.I.P! I entered the clinic and everybody welcomed me and my husband and introduced themselves. I was shown to a small ward (approx 6 beds) and was given my sexy clothes to wear for the collection. It was at this point that Andrew was told to follow the nurse and she would direct him to where he needed to go, so that he may carry out his 'job' for the day. I was left sitting on the bed looking at the beautiful breakfast laid out ready to be consumed after the egg collection (Andrew was actually told that he could eat as much as he wanted now, I think to build his strength! but, if I was going to be hungry so was he!!!!) Anyway five minutes passed and Andrew returned, he surely couldn't be done already?, no he had fallen at the first hurdle of 'what is your wife's date of birth and yours so that we can label the bottle'. My God if he had drawn a blank this early on I hope his sperm weren't going to do the same! Off he trotted, again, in the direction of the 'Mens sample room'. some time passed and he returned smirking as usual. What are you laughing at ( I really thought that this should be a more serious time in our relationship!) Well my husband, in true Andrew form, rein acted the whole time (well not the whole time!) in the sample room. The fact that he first considered how long he should take so as to be 'normal' as he knew the husband of the other couple would be waiting to be next and didn't want to seem to long (well then they would think he was there having treatment because it was his fault) or too short (as this could be seen to be the problem in the baby making thing as well), secondly, how he was amazed at the amount of different mens materials there where on the market and then how he had felt the need to tidy the magazine rack and alphabeticalize the video library for future users - well he didn't want the nurses to think he was disrespectful of their special room did he now! but thankfully he had managed to produce the sample and the wait was on to see if it could be used?
All standing to attention and ready for deployment..........................
It was so good to hear that the sample was ok and that we could move onto the egg collection, with that we were walked to the room a few doors away where Urban was waiting. The egg collection, as I remember, my god those drugs are handy! was pretty much pain free. Andrew sat at the top of the bed watching on the monitor and making smart comments, which he always does when he gets nervous, like 'oh my god is that your insides' and 'Oh you have really put me off my breakfast now' followed by 'don't you dare moan it hurt cos its nothing compared to what I have just been through'. Anyway egg collection over we returned to the ward to wait. An hour or so later Maria came in to tell us the news. We had 10 good eggs and they were being fertilised - they would phone us in the morning to let us know how many had taken and when to return for implantation.
The day of reckoning...........................
The following morning we both sat in our house waiting for the call, the phone rang and I was nominated, as always, to answer it. I spoke to Maria at length about the day before and the outcome of the eggs and the sperm. She told me that we had 6 fertilised eggs left, that they would take them through blastocyst and that we should return on Monday for reimplantation.
A contributing factor..............................
We spent the rest of that week mainly at the river house, reading, walking in the adjoining forest and being together. We never really got time to do much of this at home and it was so energising to have this time now. I still believe to this day that this week together in one of the most beautiful places in the world was a contributing factor to our treatment working. It had given us time to relax, unwind after our pre treatment and collection, prepare for the implantation and revaluate the future - which so far was looking rosey!
Monday was here and so were we..................
We arrived at the hospital, as agreed, on the Monday ready to find out if any of the eggs had made it through the week. We went into the room where the egg collection took place and was greeted by Urban. He told us that only two eggs had survived, a perfect grade A and one that had stopped dividing, but may continue if implanted into its natural environment. There was no discussion to be had, both eggs where returned and we left the hospital around an hour later.
Leaving the hospital was very strange, I felt that we where leaving behind true friends that we may never see again. Friends that had known our fears, our anxieties and our weaknesses and had responded with compassion, caring and optimism. I vowed to return to the clinic one day with our child and show them where they where made and introduce them to some of the most important people/friends we had ever met.
The dreaded two week wait.............
We returned home and spent the remainder of that week together, before we both returned to work. In some ways I think going back to work was good for me as it helped to pass the days (although the nights were endless). But, on the other hand it made me worry if I should be at home in bed holding onto dear life the eggs that had been implanted. I spoke to Urban that week and as always he reassured me that everything would be fine and that they could not 'just fall out', in fact nothing I did now, within reason of course which meant sky diving was out, would make any difference to the outcome.
Am I, aren't I, am I, aren't I.....................................
I never made it through the full two weeks before I could wait no longer, two days before I was due to test, I decided, that was going to be the day. I had felt so rough over the past few days and couldn't believe that only wanting to eat tin tomatoes and pancakes was down to the medication (it was according to my husband!) so while he watched TV I snuck off to the toilet to find out my fate?
Aim and fire........................
I should be an expert on pregnancy tests, I have carried out so many over the years, in fact I should have bought shares in them when I first started as I would then never have had to remortgage to pay for my treatment! So I opened the pack, aimed and fired ( I had also over the years perfected my aim so as to ensure it met with its target.) I waited and waited what seemed an eternity, but then the results where in.
Honey can I show you something........................
I had never thought about how I would tell my husband that I was pregnant as it had become something that I thought would never happen, I had never rehearsed it, thought of the right words, or where we should be, so this was truly off the cuff. I can honestly say I was embarrassed, It sounded so strange, almost alien to be saying what I had to say, so I went with 'what do you think of this'? (thrusting the wet stick in his hand). In true form he said what does it mean, so of course I explained, which was quite easy and only took two words I'M PREGNANT DUMMY (ok that's three).
The next few weeks were again a blur.....................
We did the phone calls and the visiting to tell everybody as you do that we had been successful and then settled back into normal life, well as normal as it now could be. Andrew spent most of the next few weeks telling me what I could and couldn't eat and generally mothering me to excess (which I moaned about of course, but actually was quite nice). Eventually I said that he needed to get out and start seeing his friends again, soon enough he would be stuck in for months with nothing but nappies for company! So off he went to the gym. I sat back ready for my relaxing evening with a twix and a cup of tea when something wasn't right?
Where the bloody hell are you?.........................
I left the sofa and headed for the kitchen, suddenly panic took hold, I knew something wasn't right, but couldn't put my finger on what it was. My brother lived in the next street so I phoned my sister in law so as not to feel like I was alone. I sat on the chair in the kitchen and spoke to her, as I did I suddenly was aware of a warm feeling on my chair and night dress, I stood up too afraid to look around and instead told my sister in law to come! when I put the phone down I turned to face my fears and sure enough there was blood on both my dress and the chair. I picked up the phone again and phoned Andrew, his phone went to answer machine and again the panic was suffocating.
You cannot be serious........................
The next 24hours truly were a nightmare, Andrew returned home some 30mins after I had phoned as he had returned to his locker, realised he had a missed call from me and knew there must be a problem. When he got there he found the night dress still in the kitchen where I got dressed for the hospital and feared the worse. He came straight to the hospital without bothering to check with the family as he was sure that was where I would be. We sat waiting all through the night till 9am the next morning when the lady to do the scan arrived. We had discussed, as directed by the staff, the possibility that this was 'almost definitely a miscarriage' but even worse 'maybe an ectopic' and when we would return to Sweden to try again.
As we sat trying to read every look on the ladies face as she carried out the scan Andrew could wait no longer, he sat forward to see the monitor and asked the lady if everything was ok. Abruptly she turned the screen away from him and told him she needed to concentrate. I began to cry sure that the news was not good and what seemed like an eternity later she turned the screen in our direction and showed us what she had been looking at. She explained that it had been very hard to locate the baby as I was early in my pregnancy and that she wanted to be sure that what she had seen was correct. Her words as I remember where something like the following " The baby is fine and what seems to have been the problem is a small area of bleeding, which looks like it is stopping and should cause no further problems, oh and by the way the baby has company!"
Life will never be the same again.................
When we had left Sweden we never thought again about the egg that had stopped dividing, but had still been implanted, thinking it would never survive and presuming it would be only one.
This reinforced to me the following:
Even when you think that things are at their worse, in the blink of any eye miracles can happen and life takes different path.
To the Reader
Whether you are just beginning, trying again or are unsure of the future, I wish you all the very best of luck and success and hope that my story can give you hope, encouragement and the strength to carry on.
Best Wishes
Tamsin
