Searching for My Rogue Duck – Has Anyone Seen It?!

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If you spot a rogue duck waddling around looking suspiciously smug, do me a favour—chase the little shit home. I’m serious. We’re on Day 10 of stimulation meds for IVF, and this duck keeps running off with my plans like it’s in a comedy skit I didn’t sign up for.

I’m due for a scan on Wednesday. Bloods last week looked good, and egg collection is booked for Friday. Sounds promising, right? Well, I’m still bloody sick. Spent the entire morning coughing like a dying tractor, my throat’s raw from it, and I managed to bring up a charming blob of green phlegm (just one, but still… lovely). Did a RAT to be sure it’s not COVID—thankfully negative.

Rang the IVF nurse to check the protocol if I’m still unwell by Friday. She said a sore throat could be an issue with the general anaesthetic tubing, so now we’re in limbo. I’ll be calling back in the morning to talk to my doctor and figure out where we stand.

And honestly? I’m ready to wring that duck’s neck. Over the weekend, I started to feel a little better—just enough to get my hopes up. I felt a flicker of excitement that maybe, just maybe, our baby journey was becoming real. Now? The meds are turning my emotions into a rollercoaster from hell. I want to scream. I want to cry until the cows come home. I want to crawl into a hole and disappear for a while.

But I’m trying—trying so hard—to stay positive. Trying to believe this round will go ahead. But this morning, with barely any sleep and a sore throat that feels like I swallowed gravel, I’m struggling. It’s hard. It’s bloody hard.

And I know I’m not the only one. I know others have walked longer roads, harder paths. But this is my hard right now. And the truth is—you don’t really know your limits until you smash right into them.

Here’s hoping tomorrow brings better news… and that someone finds that damn duck.

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