You'll never guess from the picture............

HCG 257 'whatever it is'........

I am pregnant !!!!!! Bloody hell!!! It worked!!!

The embryos didn't slip out in the transfer room!

The high level of HGC could also mean that they might of both taken!

Can you believe it?

We can't!!!!

But I am allowing myself a couple of glasses of champers and a smile and then I am off the stuff until I know for sure in a couple of weeks when we see a heart beat (or two?).

As from tomorrow I am officially 4 weeks pregnant, weird how they work it out isn't it.

Am supposed to be planning tonight for work but can't think about anything................work has taken a back seat.

G asked me how long babies take to come out he thought it was a year, (Oh dear, poor man doesn't know what on earth is going to hit him)!

Hooray for everything xxxxx

Just a little prick!

Work was work and passed suitably quickly today. I raced out of the building casting a smiling glance to the groups of parents waiting outside a few little waves to the kids and I obeyed the 5mph as I drove out of the gates, then put my pedal to the metal and sped towards the WD's clinic.

This is partly IT, I mean really IT!

I got to the clinic and swooped through the iron gates and parked in an offensively bad way across the posh new drive and rang the doorbell trying to catch my breath, desperately trying to look professional and not like I have been crawling around on my hands and knees all day clearing up pooh and wee.

All excitedly I chirp that I am hear for my HCG test not realising the waiting room was full of people. I sat amongst the trendy lime sofas again and barely had a chance to open 'OK' when I was called by an old fashioned looking nurse in a sisters uniform. No blue pyjamas, (how disappointing).

I follow her through to a little ultrasound room.
'so this is exciting isn't it?' she said which I thought was a little odd,
'Well sort of' I replied, 'To be honest I expect the worse'
'Well you never know it could be twins' she smiled
'would be good though wouldn't it, if it was positive'
(what is this woman on?)
'Yes it would yes' OF COURSE IT BLOODY WOULD WE HAVE SPENT £5,000 TO BE UP THE DUFF IT IS NOT GOING TO BE A PROBLEM IF WE ARE PREGNANT!!
'I don't think it is going to happen, but who knows' I sighed,
'How do you feel do you feel any different?'
I really can't believe she is asking me this, on the positive side I would be all of two weeks pregnant, I am hardly going to be puking up my guts just yet, on the negative even if I do have sore breasts and have felt light headed it is more likely the vast quantities of hormones I am shoving in every crevice available.

This only makes me feel that I don't feel pregnant, bless her she didn't mean to confuse me she was probably just making conversation.
Needle went in quite painfully which is always a worry I don't mind needle pain, but this was sore. a couple of seconds later it is out, she pops a plaster on and I get up to go.

Just as I am asking her what happens about the results, I feel a warm trickly feeling and find my right arm is spilling out blood on to the floor (nice)
'Sorry' She said 'I used a rather large needle on you'
I make myself comfortable again and wait for my arm to regain colour.

Lunch time tomorrow 'The Finale' I phone the clinic, they tell me.

Could be curtain down, could be an encore, could be a standing ovation.

I took my prescription to the local pharmacy the girl asked me what the drugs were I said HRT,
'You're abit young for that' she said
I explained the IVF and told her
'I may be in tomorrow, I may not, I find out you see, whether I am pregnant or not, which means I may or may not need them'
'Thats fine' she said softly, 'Just give us a tinkle on the phone if you're not going to be in'................................................................

Baby boom

We went to see my friend yesterday, who had her baby boy a couple of weeks ago. he is tentatively being referred to as 'Milo' and they think they are going to stick with that.

At first all I could think of was the tweenies and a malt drink from New Zealand, but it has grown on me and it certainly suited the little man, he was absoloutely gorgeous.

Thankfully, I wasn't too weird, I was a little quiet I think and obviously felt a little bit uncomfortable as there wasn't just one baby but quite a few of varying sizes and ages up to 4. I went round hugging them all and cracking jokes about how fortunate I was to be able to have cuddles and hand them back.

Yes of course I am Jealous, but in a nice way.

Milo is beautiful and looks just like my friend.

'Modern British Barbie'

Sometimes I wonder if there is a God what his plan is?

This afternoon I went outside to tell some children ( girl 9 boy 5 or 6) to get off the bonnet of my car.

They apologised for playing round my car and buggered off.

I went back in and carried on chatting to my friend who had come over for coffee.

Later, he leaves, and says he thinks he can see a masssive scratch on the bonnet of my car.

I go down and sure enough a massive scratch is there, gauged into the front of my car. I am seething full of rage and march off into the local DSS Zone, on the otherside of our road.

I see the girl playing with some friends, I ask her who scratched my car,

'My bruvver' she said straight away and pointed down the road, I asked her where she lived and she told me without hesitation, I told her I would speak to her mum. I then found the little boy and asked him if he scratched my car. He said no a big boy did it, 'You know' he said 'the big boy with the yellow T shirt, Kyle'.

(by this time G and my friend had followed me to make sure I wasn't going to get bottled by a 5 year old.)

I went over to the 5 year olds house, broken toys littered the front garden/scrub land, plastic containers, tissue strewn everywhere, broken bottles fag butts , mum could here me coming and opened the window carrying a furrowed expression.

'Yes' she said blowing smoke into my face,

The house contained several children of various ages, a toddler was trying to look out the window saying 'hello' unaware of his siblings crime!

I explained I had spoken to two of her children already and that a child had scratched my car, she told me where this Kyle lived and then yelled for her 5 year old to come in.

'Liam get down here now'

She knows, it was her children that did it.

I march back to my house, life is so unfair, these children are vandalising before they are even in secondary school. You don't have to read papers, or watch the news, it is here on my doorstep, the lack of respect for adults, for property, for themselves. They have a whole wood to play in here and they choose to scratch my car for fun.

I can't stand this country sometimes, it is crumbling away into a pile of fag ends, useless lottery tickets and empty cans of super tenants.

Give me a home in Scandanavia any day.

Hopelessly Devoted....

I am hopelessly devoted to a child that I haven't got.

Driving through the country lanes to work I heard the latest Cheryl Crow song featuring sting, for some reason it started me off grizzling, (yes, most likely hormones I am sure!) I couldn't help it, I feel so hopeless at the moment, I just have this feeling that it hasn't worked, it's so hard doing this, fighting to get pregnant. I even woke up this morning and grizzled as soon as I opened my eye's. G didn't know what was wrong with me but hugged me anyway, he did know really, he just can't understand why I am so negative about it all.

I work with a lovely lady who told me she has had four miscarriages in her life, I disclosed my situation to her, explaining that they were two blobs in Spain and that was all I knew.

She said 'if it's succesful it will be such a long pregnancy!'

She's right, that is the other thing that worries me, if it has been successful it will be 3 months of sheer hell and worry before I can relax and tell yet more people!!

(Why can't I keep it to myself and save myself possible pain and a feeling of abnormality). It is such a big thing in my life, infact it is my life at the moment, it is all I can think about, so I guess I just need to talk about it.

I know I am lucky to of been given a chance, but I can't believe I can be that fortunate to carry a baby full term.

Anyway, I must try and get my life back and my brain. My work is suffering I need to focus.

I treated myself to a large bottle of wine which I am keeping in the cupboard for any negative outcome next week.

There is always a silver lining.

om

My solar plexus is squiffy annd my chakras are all out of sink....

I wish I could remain balanced and neutral, I just want to be away from work, I want to be able to just be, I can't do it at the moment.

I stupidly got the dates wrong regarding the HCG blood test ( down to my body weight in hormones I am taking) I booked a test for Tuesday when I could of had one on Monday, Bugger. I am going to the WD's clinic £30, but worth it to know it is a propar test.

Today at work I was a mess of tension and hormones, I just can't throw myself into it today. I even was quite brusk with a colleague who is always so nice. I feel out of control and wish I didn't have to think about having to be there and having to function, I feel like I am just getting these next few days out of the way, and the quicker I do it the better.

Sitting bathed in afternoon sun is where I want to be, making necklaces or something arty. I am a manager of a Pre-School and right now I want someone to be telling me what to do so I don't have to think, there is not enough space in my brain at the moment to do a job.

I stupidly did a pregnancy test today knowing full well it would be negative as it is too early, Monday is the earliest for blood, Urine would be Friday next week. I just want to get it over with, so I can get on with my life. I really don't feel pregnant though, my face has been dry with very pink cheeks since we got back from Spain but I think that is down to sitting in the sun and the bloody hormones again!! There is no difference other than that. It is all hormone induced which gives nothing away in my situation.

My friend who had the baby (as yet still unnamed!!) is down this weekend, I am going to handover the much loved Spanish Music box. I am so looking forward to seeing her and their new bundle but part of me is scared of how I might feel at this time. It shouldn't change anything I know that, but I am so emotional and coupled with the hormones I just hope I can be normal and enjoy the friends and the new baby without getting all deep and inside myself.

I had tears fill up in my eyes when I was talking to a colleague today, she is having a tough time with some of her parents (she is a teacher) and out of sheer empathy I could feel I was welling up, I am pathetic. I need more backbone, more oomf.

I am trying to be strong, I feel empty though, I keep trying to feel pregnant but something is telling me, is hasn't worked, I am sure I should feel something, the problem is I do(light headed, hot, all that stuff) but, jeesh, these are all side effects of Oestrogen which I shove down my neck everyday, it means nothing.

I could well be just an empty container with a wobbly jelly brain.

This time next week it could all be over the hormones will stop and that could be it, at least I will know.....

Working 9-5

So obviously we are back, Spain already feels like a distant memory, but a memory I revisit time and time again on a daily basis.

In some ways it has been good to get back to work, into a routine where I can forget what has happened and what could happen.

The last couple of days in Spain involved a lot of feet up time for me and indulging in nice food on our last night at a delicious restaurant called 'The Orange Tree'. (good job we didn't find it on our first night, it was pricey but worth it, I would of been wanting to go there every night!).

Anyway, the here and now is what I am trying to live in now, I feel aprehentious that the return to the UK could mean the end to it all, as our plane descended into the grey overcast sky of england, a feeling of dread came over me, as it is here we will get the result, on Tuesday 27th February 2007 I go for the Hcg blood test and on Wednesday 28th 2007 I will know whether all of the last year running up to going to Spain has been in vein or whether another hurdle has been jumped without any limbs being broken.

Not sure how I will cope if a negative outcome is the case, I am sure I will find it easier than I think, everyone has that built in strength to pick themselves up again don't they? I have read alsorts of terrible stories on the net of women doing IVF for 12 years until they get a positive outcome, don't know if I have the strength for that, but I do know that I want this and I want it bad!

The next week is going to go by with the enthusiasm and pace of a slug with flu I am sure.

Hx

The Slob and the Slave

Well they're in......

Thursday 15th was certainly a surreal experience. We arrived at the clinic 15 minutes early. Sitting in a small waiting area with one other Spanish couple and two ladies on their own. I sat wondering what they were all there for, were the two girls donors? Had they just donated? Why were the Spanish couple there were they having the same thing as us. I am so bloody nosey!

We all sat in silence regardless, even the mindlessness of 'Hello' couldn't lull me into a comatose boredom. I was anxious, the 4 sprays of rescue remedy before we left the hotel must of worn off.

Finally our turn came and we were taken into a windowless tiny room with a 'Klimt' picture of a mother and child on the wall, a rather haggard looking tv/monitor,a 1980's poofy black sofa thing and a skinny bed covered in paper upon which sat my sexy blue hospital gown and green feet cover things. The nurse had one of those white hospital hats on the lovely green foot cover things and a gown.
'So pop your bottmom half stuff off and then you can put on your sexy gown then the Dr will come and show you your embryo's on the monitor, the other two aren't as good as the two four cell embryo's we are putting back today, they have 7% and 10% framentation where as the others have a higher amount and are dividing at an abnormaly high rate, but we will monitor them over the next few days none the less and will see whether they would be up for freezing, but don't hold out hope for that. You do have some very good embryo's today though which is great.'
We feel a little disheartened but just have to hope for the best.
The nurse disappears back into the workings of the tiny clinic and I undress and gown up, I sit nervously perched on the edge of the bed G in the chair, we are left in there for what seems like an eternity, we amuse ourselves by taking photo's of me in my gown and G looking hungover. Finally the doctor enters and switches off the light, the monitor comes on.
'And here are your embryos'
The picture takes a while to focus, but yes, there they are, lit by a golden light, two little blobs.

The doctor points out the fragmentation,you can see that one embryo is definately better than the other, apparently it is great that they have divided to 4 cells on day 2 though. So the two little wobbly blobs are going to be re housed immenently.

Another nurse enters and escorts me into the room where the doctor potentially creates life on a daily basis.

I am a little shocked to see the lack of impressive equipment, all the programs I have seen show giant screens and things where you can watch the transfer, but all that can be seen is the famous stirruped bed, a rickety desk lamp poised at the end of the bed, and an unplugged heart monitor. I think the transfer is taking place in a spare room.

I am invited to mount the bed and place my legs in the stirrups, an embryologist peers through a tiny hatch from another room where she must get a ripe old view of my nether regions. The doctor enters and explains he will do a dummy run first and he seats himself in the appropriate area and draws the lamp towards him, the nurse is with me and casts me a smile, gently saying how lovely the embryos are.

It feels like a smear test as he cranks open the clamp thing that he has inserted, couple of slightly stingy sprays and he announces his first entry. The embryologist passes him a catheter and I look at the numerous black spots on the ceiling. There is what feels like an awkward silence, then he announces that he is now getting the embryos from the embryologist, who appears in the hatch and passes him the crucial implement, at this point as he is lining it all up I decide to break the awkward silence, by saying, 'I can't belive it is happening, I mean, it is hard to realise it is happening, it has taken us 3 years to get to this point'
The nurse says nothing. Just smiles.
'So how many embryos are the average for a cycle then?'
The doctor looks up at me probably in disbelief that I am chatting away to him at this crucial moment.
I then proceed to answer my own question.
'Well it probably depends on the quality of the sperm and the egg etc I suppose'
The nurse just smiles and agrees, then I notice she looks down at the doctor and he has his eyes closed, she says something and he shakes his head. It is all a blur really of what happened but I immediately panic that they haven't gone in and have slipped out or something or he missed because I distracted him.
He stands up.
'So we will now get the embryologist to check the catheter to confirm they are in'.
He disappears and the nurse looks awkward, I feel a little bit worried and have a bad feeling.

The embryologist pokes her head out of the hatch again and chirply announces.

'They have gone madam, good luck'

'Oh thankyou' I reply nervously,
The Doctor returns.
'So, they are in!' he exclaims,
I look at him.
'They are, they are in?'
Then he is gone.
The nurse gets G to sit with me while my uterus settles before I get dressed and can go back to the hotel.

We make our way back to the hotel via Simons car with Ruth cadging a lift home as she finishes her day at the clinic, we chat in the car about their life and what it's like working at the clinic, and then we arrive at our hotel, where we go to our room and I am to be waited on hand and foot! (it's a hard life!)

I rest for twenty fours, unable to think of anything else other than what was (hopefully) in my uterus and what would happen in the future, I listen to meditations, balance, crystals on my abdomen, all in the hope that there will be a positive outcome to all of this.

I have moments of ridiculous excitement and contentment to moments of sheer worry and concern that it will never happen to us, I couldn't be that lucky.

So I try and remain positive and upbeat.

If nothing else for the little blobs that are (hopefully) in my uterus.

Welcome to the Hotel California (well Kent actually)

We dined in an almost empty restaurant last night after consuming a bottle of Champagne between us and discussing the possibilities that the future holds, what our ideas of rearing a child are and my idea to start making a history box and book for any future resulting child, photo’s of us on the balcony, sipping champagne, photo’s of the street outside, the sea, the hotel, the clinic, the boats, trying to soak up as much information for them as possible, along with all the bumper pack of hospital correspondence and my medical history.
Family history is so important.

Seems so dangerous to be even thinking like this doesn’t it, to allow ourselves to think so positively, we do still have hope though, at least for now.

G has a hangover, thankfully after the champagne I moved on to water and then peppermint tea in the hotel bar as G tucked into a large beer after consuming half a bottle of red, while watching Flamenco last night. I am so tired in the evenings (which is nothing new) but I wish I could be in more of a holiday mode, to make the most of the facilities. I just want to sleep and not do much and be with my thoughts.

We awoke to an overcast day, which is good, today will be a day of rest for me so that the little tinkers can move in safely after they have been transferred.

My dreams consisted of rehearsing plays and learning lines last night. Unfortunately for me the director decided I wasn’t up to scratch and cast me in some lineless walk on part while everyone else around me had great dancing and singing parts with amazing costumes……..strange how my mind deals with things sometimes, my underlying fear of not being able to make the grade as a pregnant woman/mother is creeping into my psyche, a constant concern that ‘I am not good enough’, mixed with G’s lazy swimmers I guess it would be a miracle if we get a live birth from all of this!

I am a little worried my tummy is aching again, I am just hoping the my uterus is not going to mess about, it has such an important role now and is the star of the show, while I, perspiring with nerves, am in the proverbial wings shouting encouraging words.

The whole malarky of the progesterone pessary in the morning is not very pleasant really, I hope I am absorbing enough hormones.

After a shower I sit by ‘Mobile number 8’ waiting nervously to hear from the clinic, waiting for our allocated transfer slot. Finally it comes at about 11.am ‘Hi H, transfer will be today and your appointment is at 1.30pm, come a little earlier and I will give you the low down on everything’ (or gossip as she calls it, in an attempt to make things light and easy on the ear)
‘Ok see you then’
I can’t think of anything to say and can’t be bothered to make small talk anymore, I am now nervous and typing away at this diary to try and take my mind out of my body and onto the computer!

The phone goes again.

‘Hi H sorry to trouble you again, listen things are going to be a little delayed today, we have a specialist who has come in and is giving the low down on these new 3D 4D scanning machines that were delivered yesterday, so can you come half an hour later rather than you hanging around here you can relax at your place’
I am jittery and immediately feel there is a problem.
‘That’s fine, there isn’t a problem is there?’
‘No, God, no, no problem, we just wouldn’t have a doctor for that time, and I feel we need a doctor somehow, yes a doctor would be good’ she jokes.
‘Oh ok, no problem that’s fine, we’ll see you at 2pm then’
I can hear another phone going off in the background and immediately feel it is the other recipients who are getting the other half of the eggs. I feel slightly uneasy with the fact another couple are sharing our eggs, I wonder how many embryos they had etc, I know I shouldn’t think about it, but can’t help it. I wish they were all ours, imagine that, 16 eggs, think of the spare embryos that we could freeze for future attempts or siblings. Unfortunately for us I don’t think we are ever going to have that opportunity now, even if we manage to get a free go through the WD’s egg sharing scheme in our home town, we would still be doing exactly that, egg sharing.

Well what can we do? Well be thankful I suppose that we even have a chance.

I will be out of action as of 2pm today and may not update until we get home now which is Saturday 17th.

So start placing your bets now……………………..

Spanish Transfer -The diary from 10th -14th

Hola, I have managed to get myself wifi access to bring you the story so far.......

Saturday the 10th Feb

I woke early and drove into work determind to get some done, noone was there when I arrived the school was locked. I was secretly pleased that I could concentrate rather selfishly, on me and my naughty uterus and whether we were going to be going to Spain.
I refreshed my email as many times as I took an intake of breath, wondering whether Spain were going to enlighten me about the bleeding and cramps, instead I was invited to try Viagra and Cialis and meet my perfect love match online but no word from Spain.
G got busy packing and being organised, my energy levels were low (probably due to the immense lack of iron currently parting with my body).

‘Er hello yes I am phoning about some oestradiol results, my name is H’ I left my number on the answer machine, it was midday, I should have had the results, 15 minutes later, Fiona called, a chirpy voiced fertility lab person.
‘Hiya, yes it is 925 pmol-L’
‘Is that good?’
‘You’re a receipient aren’t you, I am afraid I don’t know I am used to stimulating follicles, sorry.’
‘oh ok then’
‘It would be about mid cycle if that is any help’
‘Ok thank you so much bye’
I email Spain and spend the rest of the day either clutching my abdomen or refreshing my inbox.
No word from them, we just have to go, we pack and I fall asleep infront of the tv after a couple of glasses of wine. The next day is going to come regardless.

Sunday 11th February 2007

I can’t sleep, I am awake pretty much most of the few hours before we have to get up. First thing I do is check the ‘under carriage’. Lighter, definitely lighter but the pain is still there. We rise, I am willing myself to be calm and for G to be calm, he panics more then I do, bless him, slightest potential problem and he goes into over drive. I manage to steer him away today by keeping myself serene but strong and cutting him off mid flap.Outside the dark, still night, is refreshing, both the beginning and the end of a long story in our lives. I pop cards in the neighbours’ door, announcing a number to call should our house be invaded by wilder beast while we are away (or something similar).

I stand and wait for G by the car, he, rather chivalrously, (and completely out of character) has offered to bring down my bags. I stand taking in the 4 am air, the sounds of the bird song lilting on the branches of trees. All are aleep, the world goes round and we are off to Spain with hopes and monumentos fears. I love this world though no matter what, the magic of early mornings, the splattering of light upstairs in houses, the routine for people and their lives, (hang on a minute it is Sunday, why are there still people getting up at 4 am)!!

My father drives us to Gatwick, South. The skiiers are out in force and there is a stampede of Ugg Boots. I give my Dad a lingering hug, he is an emotional stick and says in slightly wavering voice ‘We’ll be thinking of you’.

We slip through the terminal in what has to be the quickest check in, in the history of mind numbing check in ques, we swooped straight in and swooped out with some rather dandy seats to ourselves at the back of the plane.

A few arbitary glances at accesorize and a muffin with fruit smoothie later and we are boarding the Monarch flight to Malaga. I have read articles on people who have done exactly what we are doing so many times, re-read the text until my eyes went blurry and now here we are doing exactly what so many before us have done, we are living the dream (sounds awfully american does it not!)
In the airport I had a quick peek ‘downstairs’, suddenly it had stopped, I start to feel myself allowing the relief to creep in. I walk out of the toilets beaming, they must of wondered what on earth I had been doing in there.

‘Simon?’ I have spotted our travel co-ordinator (husband to the nurse at the IVF clinic conveniently enough).‘H’ we shook hands at Malaga arrivals lounge after so many conversations on the phone, ‘G’ he said extending his hand to my better half.

We weaved in and out of mostly Spanish travellers (relief) and hopped into the waiting carriage, which happened to be a very nice Jag. And RELAX.

The clinic are thinking of flying over english donors for IVF, paying them and giving them subsidised flights and hotel costs according to Simon. Seems mad doesn’t it, don’t think he appreciated my tale of the winking doctor and his summary of what is going on in the NHS and the fact he has a clinic down the road from us, famous case of my mouth talks and my brain switches off but I think Simon got the jist, all tha same, that we think the UK stinks at egg donation IVF through the NHS (fortunately for him and his Mrs I guess).

So here I am sitting on a balcony outside our double room, over looking a little mariner, with a collection of boats bobbing on the lazy Spanish waves, Sunshine, (about 21 degrees at some points today), the mountains a backdrop to the brilliant white cubes that disappear into the distance and look like blobs of snow on the hillside. People amble along the tasteful promenade arm in arm, sweater over their shoulders and in the distance I can here a crowd at the stadium, a bull fight (unfortunately but hey ho you can’t have everything). On a brief reccy we spy the clinic nestled opposite our four star hotel above a computer shop.
‘H hi I thought I would give you a ring to make sure you have got here safe and sound’
It’s the call I have been waiting for, Simon very kindly gave us a mobile to be contacted on and for UK people to contact us on which is far cheaper than our one. We need to be contactable at all times for obvious reasons.
Since my elation at Gatwick the cramps returned and I have slipped into blood loss again.
‘Listen I spoke to Dr B and he says the fluid on your scan is the scarring from the polyp removal, your uterine lining is great and your hormone levels are fantastic’
OH MY GOD!
‘But I am still bleeding is that ok?’‘Well it’s not ideal, but Dr B is going to Scan you to see for himself, but it could be that your body is asking for the Progesterone that you are going to start taking on Tuesday anyway’
‘Oh ok’
‘So you are going to be seeing me on Tuesday at 12.00, the eggs would have been taken from the donor and we shall scan you to see what is going, oh yes and bring the money as you will need to pay for the procedure too, any questions call me on the mobile Simon gave you’.
I feel happier, but still concerned we could part with all that money only for my naughty uterus to flush out the little embryos. Anyway in the words of a great risk taker......

‘ he who dares rodders, he who dares’.

Monday 12th February

The night was airless and I excaped to the balcony at 7am, wrapped in a blanket I watched the sunrise over the sea, the waning moon hung crescent shaped, in the sky with saturn and venus at it’s side (I have a nifty calender that tells me what is going on in the sky in the mornings, apparently Saturn and Venus will be buggering off out of view again soon so it was nice to witness their brief appearance). Can’t tell you how wonderful it is to be here (in the words of Otis) watching the boats come in and watch them roll away again. The hotel is fantastic, clean, modern with just enough chic to make you feel special, we were very lucky to get this place, with all it’s facilities, use of gym, spa (at a price), swimming pool etc. It is conveniently placed opposite the clinic too which is great.

I have finally stopped bleeding and all is well (apart from the dull ache I experience every so often).
‘Would madam like a juice?’ A smart looking waiter greeted us at breakfast, there was an array of freshly squeezed smoothie mixtures to welcome us.

As promised by Simon the whole breakfast experience was definitely a winner. The choice was amazing and I got my fresh melon and some juicy sweet fresh pineapple. Champagne was even an option if we wanted it. We were like a couple of cheshire cats, we were drinking in the holiday feeling, purely enjoying being away.We spent the morning by the pool, I did some work, and G slept, then we headed off into the ‘old town’ of Marbella, twisting Andalucian pathways and whitewashed Spanish churches making way to a superb old town square, filled with alfresco cafes and art galleries, we walked and ate and drank and walked and took photo’s we discussed getting a camper van and buggering off round europe in a couple of years time (probably in an attempt to forget what we are here for), 6 months travel, nice dream, maybe, we’ll see, we’ll get home and suddenly the priority will be the Sainsburys delivery.(although somehow I think not).

A great day of holidaying, I sit here on the balcony, tapping away on the laptop, thinking to myself this evening will be a pampering evening, a deep hot bubble bath with my travel candle, fake tan and a razor. Pluck, squeeze and moisturise ready for the IVF day tomorrow. I am being scanned and the eggs are being retrieved, part of me wants to camp outside the clinic to see the donor arrive, see what she looks like, is she like me? But part of me knows it would not be good idea.The romantic idea that we will meet the nurse tomorrow and she announces that the resemblence to the donor is uncanny and she has never before come across two people so similar that aren’t related, is a pretty unrealistic one. I have begun to formalise what will happen to our child if this is successful, they will learn Spanish at Pre-school age and I will go to evening Spanish lessons too, I have tried to pursuade G but that needs work. I realise as I type this it is foolish to even let myself think along such lines at this point, we still have such a long way to go. I do know though, that I won’t keep it from the child, they will be special and will have some roots here in Spain and I want them to have every opportunity to investigate what is part of them and who they are. If, of course, we get past the next million, gigantic mountain like hurdles.

Tuesday 13 February 2007

We indulged in Paella last night but I stupidly wouldn’t eat the crustations I had been looking forward to. I worried about the possibility of being ill, so now I am officially in panic mode, or at least overly worried mode. Despite this I managed to sleep last night and woke at about sunrise again, which is strange as I have an alarm clock at home that is a fake sunrise, it’s supposed to beat the winter blues, maybe I have tuned into being woken up by the chink of orange light coming through the curtains. If anything is going to beat the winter blues it is being here, how I envy the people that spend the winter in their Spanish apartments.Another feast of fresh melon this morning and a refreshing array of pleasant looking Spanish waiters, which is nice.G and I had very healthy options this morning, perhaps thinking it would make a difference to the day ahead, but in reality, was neither here nor there, what was going to be, was going to be, G’s little swimmers would have been manufactured 3 months ago anyway, just about the time he was getting pissed almost on a daily basis, eating copious amounts of rich food and smoking himself into oblivion over the festive season. So the lazy gits will probably be in a drunken heap at the bottom of his loins, desperately reaching for the alka seltzer, and suffering from hacking coughs, the idea of fighting to get into an egg is the last thing on their minds.

We mooch about in the morning, I plug into G’s PDA and listen to my relaxtion hypnosis MP3 while sitting in a comfy chair in the sunshine on the balcony . It makes me laugh at the beginning, the blokes voice sounds like a wide boy shouting across a bar, then all of sudden he goes all hypno, and before you know it you are melting into his soothing words, thinking of alsorts but in a nice way.
I am sure I had a visualisation meditation type thing, it was very soothing whatever it was.

After suitably forcing relaxtion on myself via the words of ‘Gordon’ Whatshisface, I shower. Then G showers, then we kiss and look at each other, ‘Lets get this show on the road’, and we amble over the road to the clinic, to meet our destiny.

‘You have 8 eggs and Dr B will be scanning you to make sure your lining is still ok and to find out where the bleeding is coming from’ She was a friendly faced nurse with a great reassuring light heartedness, she hugged me when we met, which was sort of what I needed although took me by surprise.
‘I have stopped’‘Fantastic, well he will scan you anyway to see how things are going, and I will take your blood to check the hormone levels again. G needs to do his bit today and then we will see how the development of the cell division is going and ascertain which are the strongest and haven’t fragmented, we are looking for transfer to be Thursday if we have definate strong ones if they are all strong then we will give them another day in which case it could be Friday’

8 eggs, that’s amazing, we are sharing eggs with another couple so the donor has done very well, weirdly enough 8 is my numerology number (I know I shall try and stop talking bollocks, but I believe in all that crap, or at least I try and cling to positives……. also we have the number 8 mobile for them to reach us on....spooky).

She talked for a while about what would be happening, but my brain is turning to jelly and I can’t for the life of me remember every detail(she says it is the hormones making my brain do this, I tell this to G every month so now I can get away with it officially)!, her mouth was moving but my mind was two steps behind.

Basically Thursday is Embryo Tranfer day, THE BIG ONE! As from tonight I will be shoving little bullets of Progesterone into my front bottom twice a day swallowing 2mg of Progynova 3 times a day and keeping myself as relaxed as possible which is not easy for me!

After the transfer I am to do nothing for 24 hours, literally, bed rest, while G becomes my Slave and I become his Slob as the nurse put it, I just hope it takes place on Thursday which means we can take the going home slowly, already I am worried about work and kids bashing into my precious cargo, will have to tell my colleague I had an operation or something and she will have to do heavy stuff.

Then the next hurdle is pregnancy test, blood test, to see what lies ahead, there are 4 types of pregnancy result (of course, how could we expect it to be straight forward), high – ‘Oh mama, you are going to be a BIG mama multiple birth type scenario’, positive – Yep, you are officially up the duff, medium – mmm well yes you are but perhaps have another test abit later on to make sure it is not an early miscarriage and negative. So what nail biting joy we have awaiting us in roughly 15 days time. Of course if I have the test done on the NHS we could be waiting 4 years for the result and so I wonder whether to go private again at the WD’s clinic for that bit. 15 days, will feel like 15 years.
‘Anything above 8mm is good’ said Dr B as he shoved his probe into my lady area. I had my first taste of the stirrups, legs a kimbo, not the most flattering pose. I look at the screening always expecting to see something but never understand what I am looking at. He highlighted my uterus and pointed out the lining to me.‘So, we go from there, to there’ and he drew a dotty line on the screen indicating the thickness of the lining.‘9mm’ ‘Oh good,’‘Yes that is good and now I will look at the ovaries……oh they are very small, yes the right is very small….and the left……oooh yes very small, they are tiny’(alright don’t rub it in)
‘That’s radiation for you’ I said sort of forgetting I was talking to a Dr, ‘and chemotherapy’
‘Yes, right’
He mentioned them no more, I always sort of hope that one day I will be scanned and they will say that there are some eggs and they are normal, or even ‘My god you are pregnant, well looks like you have healed yourself so you won’t be needing us anymore, congratulations’.

Maybe I should start wishing for world peace instead, there is more chance of that………

OK so I allow myself to feel slightly pleased, G on the other hand is not quite as pleased, apparently his sample was not great, he felt it wasn’t what it could be (too busy with their hangovers deep down in the depths of his dangly bits). Well we are having ICSI so the lazy gits don’t have to swim they just have to be good at fertilising. Fingers crossed, it is all in the lap of the gods or whatever now.

We part with the cash 4,770 euros, just like that, no wonder they are having new 3d 4d scanning machines delivered the day we arrive, oh well the money is going to a good place and to good people.

G said as we walked up the stairs he saw a young couple waiting to go home, he wondered if it was the donor, I wish I had seen, he said the girl was very pretty, I am sure he said it to make me feel good, who knows I doubt it could of been her in the same place as us at the same time who knows, best we don’t.

We left on a high, feeling like a honeymooning couple we don’t let go of each other for most of the day. Even if we are just slightly touching.
The mobile is charged waiting to hear the news of the cells and what they are up to, we should hear tomorrow.

We bought a token gift for the donor, a bracelet, with silver circles and crosses on, hugs and kisses, I put it in a heart shaped chocolate box and will take it to the clinic tomorrow or Thursday when we go in. The woman we bought it from had her baby in the shop (well she didn’t HAVE her baby in the shop, that would have been slightly unexpected), I couldn’t help but look at the little mite, fast asleep on it’s back in the pram, part of me wondering, well you know. Still a long road ahead, must remain strong and open minded.

Is it me or are there babies everywhere at the moment?

Wednesday 14th February 'Valentines Day' aaaaaaah

Awoke to a rosey fingered sunrise this morning, the pink and orange light was streaming through the open balcony door and the net curtain was idolly lolloping on the gentle breeze. I slipped in and out of consciousness and had a rather delicious dream about Jamie Oliver, how lovely he visits me in my dreams on valentines day.

I feel smug, so far things have surprised me in a good way, I am now on progesterone as well as oestrogen as well as folic acid, I am surprised I don't rattle.

Perhaps it is the hormones making me feel so good and so cheesily honeymoonish..... So what if I forget who I am sometimes.

We enjoyed another glorious breakfast although, my hunger was not as ferocoius as previous visits. We decided to shop for my friend who recently had a baby boy and Gs' friend who recently had a baby girl. We venture to the old town carrying the all important mobile that would tell us the embryonic score, which we got in the middle of a purchase in a beautiful shop selling colourful wooden toys which had a Spanish chic. (I purchased a rather lovely wooden music box that played Spanish music as two magnetic clowns clumsily bobbed in little dancing circles infront of a circus tent, the hormones are really kicking in I was besotted with it's cuteness I hope her baby likes it as much as me!)

'Well you have 4 good ones unfortunately 2 eggs were not mature enough to do ICSI, and 2 failed to meet the grade but it looks like we will be transferring tomorrow, the embryologists are pleased with the 4, but to be doubley sure we will leave them overnight and I will phone you first thing in the morning'.

I am extremely pleased initially but then ask about freezing two remaining,She tells me to just wait until tomorrow where we should get and idea of which two ae the best.

After my first feeling of elation I discuss with G and we suddenly realise we may not have a second chance with the frozen ones, they always put two back and the likely hood of two surviving the thawing process is unlikely. I like the idea of my donor now, the fact she is Spanish is interesting to me, I feel sad that we may have just one shot with this ladies eggs. I also wonder what happened to the immature eggs? I shall have to ask tomorrow. You really are in complete trust with the clinic.

So tomorrow is D day.

Tonight we shall drink champagne and go to a lovely seafood restaurant on the sea front, over looking the sea, still with hope in our hearts on valentines day, for the four little transformers eagerly multiplying in the petry dish, I just hope two of them will like their new environment!

X

The waiting room

Got a text message from my friend, she had a little baby boy at 5.05am this morning. 6lb's all is well. 5.05 that was just about the time I woke up with the mantra 'stop bleeding, stop bleeding, stop bleeding' going round in my head while I clenched my abdominal muscles nipping off to the loo to sort myself out and see how bad it was...... bad.

I cried going to work and I cried AT work today, a colleague was talking to me, I had confided our 'Spanish trip' with her a while back, she knew I was going off to be scanned and I explained that I felt it may not go ahead next week because of me losing the lining and the tears came, just as one of the children slipped over on some ice, I bent down and comforted them, secretly blubbing into their shoulder while they blubbed into mine. Then managed to gather myself and become 'Miss' again, asking them not to throw ice at each other, wipe their noses and line up at the gate to go in.

I went for my scan shortly after, I hate all this time off of work, I am sure they will get pissed off with me, but as I said before, hopefully they would of forgotten after half term. I sat in the first waiting room of the day. I watched all of the expectant mothers nervously carrying their 'pregnancy pack' being escorted with their partners into little rooms. A teenage mother came in with her 'fella' and her 'cousin' and her baby, patting her stomach, ''nuvver one on the way, I wanna have 4 you know, can't wait for this one to come......LILY GET YOUR ARSE OFFER THERE'.

I sat trying to stop what my uterus was doing 'Stop bleeding, stop bleeding, stop bleeding'.

My name was called after half an hour, I was dreading having to go through the whole story of why I was there again, facing the NHS riot act. I nervously went in. The lady smiled and I blurted it out my concerns and what I was doing and how I was worried and and...... She carried on smiling and seemed empathetic, 'You poor thing' she said 'Lets see whats going on' She popped the probe in 'It's fine' she said, but I don't think she understood what the situation was and how desperate I was that this cycle worked. She noticed a tiny little fluid thing on the picture and asked if I could be pregnant. I just tilted my head back and wanted to laugh like a mad person. 'No, I don't think so'.

The report was ok, not too worrying but then it didn't really tell me what I had to do next. I was so happy that she didn't judge me though, that she listened, felt sorry for me and said she would be thinking about me when I left. You see what does that cost? EXACTLY. It doesn't have to be about funding, it shouldn't be about funding, it should be about caring and making a difference to someones life if you can, making a hard situation easier if you can, not for grilling you and making you feel like a criminal, why do that? I felt better even though I had no answers and the lining was down to 8mm from the bleeding which is what it was before I started the hormones, so back at the beginning effectively with only a matter of days before Embryo Transfer.

She printed me a copy of the report and I made my way to the appointment I had made with the WD's Private Clinic for an oestradiol blood test, to check I am absorbing the hormones (as suggested by Spain).

I arrive slightly early to a newly decorated Victorian Palace, I ring the bell and a smartly dressed lady lets me in. A sweeping staircase is in the hallway, elegantly twisting its way up to the second floor. The floor was newly laminated and the whole place looked like a brand new Trendy London Lounge type affair. It was very impessive.

'I am afraid we are running late we have one nurse on today and she is doing bloods and scans take a sit in the waiting room' and she guided me through to an urban chic, living room area with fresh coffee to help yourself to and vast quantities of mineral water, the latest edition of 'Hello' and 'OK' neatly laid on the coffee table designed by Conran. Voluptiuous brown leather sofa's beckoning you to sit and pout on them with your clique of trendy pals, next to them the lime Green faux leather chairs, which added a plucky statement.

I felt I had stumbled into a London clinic to the stars. The only thing that let it down was the NHS'esque' one person manning the whole show type scenario, leaving paying customers with a 2 hour wait, not quite inkeeping with the ambient decor.

I parked myself on the lime green numbers, next to the coffee perculator and mineral water, there were some very well dressed couples and the odd woman alone, well dressed of course, except me who was covered in paint, glitter and splatters of mud up my trousers, hair a mess, face even worse. I reached for 'OK' and fixed my sights on the fact Jade was having a nervous breakdown.

We all sat there pretending not to sneak a peak at each other, all knowing why we were there but not daring to interact. Such a secret world we were probably all itching to find out each others stories, but noone did, noone ventured down the forbidden path that could quite possibly help us all.

A lady asked me when my appointment was.
'1pm' I said 'whens yours?'
'12.30'
'Is this your lunch break?'
'Oh I work from home today, but I am meeting someone at 2pm'
'oh hope you get there ok'
'yea'
And that was it, how terribly British is that, if I were anywhere else we would be discussing embryo transfers and the cryo genic process and whether my partners swimmers were up to the challenge.

Sad isn't it.

Time passed, inevitably and finally I was called by a young attractive lady in a pair of those ER blue pyjama's.

She seemed very rushed and couldn't wait to get the needle in and the vial filled. I discussed my endeavour but she wasn't interested, she knew the urgency and that was all that mattered, the emotional stuff was by the by, she had no time for that.

£25 later, the vial is full, and I am required to post it myself and hope that the results will be phoned through to me in the morning.

If I am not responding to hormones, I am buggered I think, so fingers very firmly crossed on that one.

It is either the polypectomy or the large amount of hormones that have caused this bleed I personally would say, but, one thing is definately for sure, I am bleeding and it seems to be stopping for noone. There is nothing I can do.

I get an email from Spain explaining the donor is responding well and is all on track, will know tomorrow date of transfer.

Yea thanks, typical donor is peachy, it is me that has f****d it up. I looked on internet, 8mm is not great and I am still bleeding.

Have stopped talking to the uterus now, very disappointing behaviour, I do wonder though whether Spain gave me too much hormone to take, I don't think I remember taking 6mg on my dummy run 3 years ago, maybe I did, I should of tried to find out and told them from the start, it's only a little uterus, mind you they knew that from my first scan result, they know what they are doing, my Uterus is just a little shit.

Well at least I can get drunk in Spain and eat Paella and Tapas if I don't get ET'd. Will definately try for funding for the local clinic if this goes tits up, you have got have a plan B, as long as I have a plan B my sanity will remain in tact.(I think).

x

Bleeding Hell.

I am bleeding.

You know that lovely uterus I was talking about a couple of blogs ago, well the cheeky monkey has turned against me, I am very cross with it. It has conformed for the last 3 years, merrily responding to hormones, bleeding when it should, bouncing about in my abdomen content to have cycles generated by horse wee and now, at this crucial time it decides to play silly buggers. 6mg I am on 6 WHOLE MG's of Oestradiol Valereate or whatever you call it, (ladies hormones) and my uterus should not, I reapeat NOT be shedding it's lovely satin sheets just yet, no, no no it should not be shedding at all. It hasn't done this when I was on 2mg for the last 3 years so why should it do it on 6? My uterus has turned against me, telling me who is in control and not to forget it.

Why has this happened? I email Spain from my work pretending to be looking up snowmen on the internet, one of my colleagues sits down next to me, she starts making small talk about planning and I am hoping she is not peering at the computer screen to see my frantic 'I am bleeding' messages to the nurse in Spain.

When I get the reply at home the Nurse just tells me to wait until the scan tomorrow and we can take it from there and then expects me to organise an oestrogen blood test through the NHS in the space of a day? (Er no chance) I leave a message on the WD's answer machine begging for a blood test at his private clinic to see if I am absorbing enough oestrogen.

I thought this was complicated.......it is now.

You got to laugh though haven't you, do you think someone is telling me I shouldn't have a baby? So much effort for just a GO at ED IVF. We haven't even tried yet and we might fail at the first bloody hurdle.

BLOODY, BLOODY HURDLE!

My tummy started cramping it felt like a propar period(I hate that word), the pain is easing slightly like it might twindle, I hope it does, I don't know whether I am delirious, insane, or just plain crazy but I have a sense of amusement about me, is it denial? Is it a nervous breakdown? why aren't I crying with despair at the unfortunate turn of fate that has just occured. I just feel happy not to be working next week, I am sure the pain will come if it does get cancelled, oh yes, it will come. Along with the realisation we have parted with £1,500 just for this to happen.

I just feel so tired of it all now, the battle, the up hill feeling, there never seems to be a summit in sight.

Scan tomorrow, work is covered I can take my time, I think the tears welling up in my eye's as I requested it from my Headmistress indicated to her that it was quite important (either that or I am having a nervous breakdown)

Come on uterus we can do this, WE CAN!

What is going on in the NHS? It is truly falling apart and I feel so guilty for asking to be scanned by my local hospital.

I left a training session early today having broken a tooth on one of the courtesy toffees available (typical), I exit in a sly way, my colleague probably thinking I am no longer interested in my job as I keep darting off all of the time. I went for my heart scan, I phone the receptionist who first of all thought I had missed the appointment the other day, then remembered I was that annoying b**** who kept changing her appointment. After entering the hospital car park, already 10 minutes late I am faced with a 5 mile tail back into the public car park. Sod that, perspiration forming on my brow I reverse frantically and head for the staff car park, getting doctors and surgeons to wait for me while I do, possibly the worse piece of parking in my life.

Abandoning my car balancing on a large curb, I race into the building. If Chemo and radiation didn't damage my heart all this IVF prep and organising will. I am cardiogrammed by a handsome doctor, from behind! So weird seeing your heart on a monitor, it looked like a floppy throat thing (the dangly bit at the back) or the valve I could see did, twitching like a fish out of water, amazing that it does that for so long, such dedication, I don't have to do anything, amazing piece of kit!

So my ticker is fine. I give thanks and praise to the doctor for his efforts and then apologise for my hasty exit but I had to rescue my car.

I arrive home frantic about my next dilemma, to get scanned on the 9th, I decide to give up going to my local hospital who's ultrasound department seems largely unmanned most of the time, I have phoned continuously, been there in person, everything it's like a 'ghost town'. I phone the WD's private clinic.

'Hi can I book an ultrasound scan for Friday?'

'Oh hi H yes I got your message of course would, you like to book 3 for £400 we do quite a few ladies who are being treated abroad?'

'Er, not thanks, how much is one?'

'£175'

Surely I should get a free massage with that or something, I book it anyway, and resign myself to the fact I have to go off sick on Friday, SHIT, really don't want to as was off last Friday, have to though, no way round it can't ask for more appointment time off.

Then I decide to give the 'ghost town' one last try. I get through and say how my doctor had referred me over two weeks ago and I still haven't got an appointment (which is true), inside I am feeling like an armed robber raiding two old ladies running a charity shop. I said how it had to be the 9th Feb. The lady apologised and she went to ask her senior

'Yes that's right Barbara, the ladies been waiting over two weeks to get the appointment through, yes, yes oh I see perhaps you could speak to her then'

An elderly lady came to the phone.

'Hello, the problem is you see you have had your appointment, we don't have funding for anymore, most people are allocated funding for one scan every 3 months, you had one on the 15th'

I am so evil, I feel so awful like I am turning off loads of ventilators all at the same time.

'Yes I know, the thing is I had one on the 9th and there was no record of the report that was made so I had another one on the 15th where they found a polyp, then I had a hysteroscopy and a polypectomy the following week' Suddenly I found myself confessing to a whole string of offences.

'This scan was for my lining'

'Yes but we don't have funding for egg donation IVF'

'I know I am sorry, I realise how things are and the lack of funding'

'Lack of, there is none'

'Should I call Dr W (WD) then to discuss it with him do you think?' The head honcho who winks.

'yes perhaps you should and see what he says, oh hang on..........let me have a look and see if you are in the diary'

Suddenly a shaft of light appears on the horizon like a Beacon of hope, her voice had changed to a helpful one.

'You see if you have had a procedure done, then thats different, you would be eligible for one as a follow up, that changes it you see'

OH MY GOODNESS ! I may be able to get an appointment.

'Yes if you come at 11.30am .......you will have to wait, there are only two members of staff scanning that day'

'I don't mind, really I don't mind, I will wait, I will take the day off of work' (bugger).

I thank her perhaps too much, then realise I will have to face an interrogation of the scanner person who will also treat me like a sponging no gooder and will stick the probe in extra hard, like she did last time. I feel so bad, like I am a real con artist.

G's sister is a nurse, she said the local NHS trust has been trying to get them to work a shift for nothing! What is happening to it all, I knew it was bad but not this bad.

I shall probably wake to my car splattered with eggs or something, UV jelly smeared on my windscreen.

Thankgoodness if I go sick Friday, it is half term and the teachers would arrive back in a hopefully, relaxed mood and will forget about my slacking!(as long as there is no more when I get back!!!!).

Sheesh, am looking forward to being able to put my feet up next week, albeit, in stirrups!

X

The Complex

I am not sure I am being the receipient I am supposed to be, drinking 3 glasses of wine and not really paying attention to my uterus and the vibes I should be sending it.




Today, the day after the night before, I topped up on hair of the dog, (not in a bad way) I just had a couple of glasses. I was so good last night and only drank guiness, for the iron content, it has lots, and so that is what I drank, I am sure it is good for you, my mum drank guiness a couple of times when she was actually pregnant with my brother. I am not obviously, pregnant, I am just preparing a little nook for something to start growing in. Should I be drinking?


Perhaps I should email Spain........again.


I am sure it is fine as long as I am looking after myself in every other way, ok, now I feel guilty.


I have one shot at this (for the time being) we have spent time and money getting to this point and I still can't give up the booze.


I have been drinking herbal tea like there is no tomorrow though too, eating all organic food. Surely the hospital should be advising me on what I should and shouldn't be doing, surely they should give out a little 'pack' explaining the do's and don'ts of looking after yourself in the run up to implantation. Sounds like something from 'Lost' doesn't it!



We told my closest best friend last night, what was going on, he was banging on at me to book a trip away to see a mutual friend in Lyon, and a trip to the Lake District. I had to tell him, to get him off my case, why we couldn't be tied to anything, he was trying not to be excited and assured us it would go no further. I just feel the more people know the less chance it will happen, how bloody weird is that, although I feel good he knows in a way then I can cry and be mad quite openly if things don't work out.



Another friend was up the pub for my partners birthday, she is about to give birth within the next few days, we grew up together, she is the same size as me, same age, we did drama together, she has a gorgeous neat bump, and her baby will be beautiful. I feel no jealousy when I am with her I just feel that I am behaving weirdly and everyone knows about what we are doing and are expecting me to act like a mad woman or something. I can't explain that I just don't feel like that, I feel as happy for her as I would do if I could have kids myself. When she announced her (publicly unplanned but secretly planned) pregnancy, I did have a twinge, a little pang of 'My god, it is happening they are all having babies, my girlfriends I grew up with, they have finally succombed and are doing it how am I supposed to behave' I knew the day would come, I knew it was inevitable, I did get a little upset initially, don't know why, well I do, but, it was because it was her, someone who was a bit like me, someone who fancied my boyfriends and was never allowed out too late and who's mum picked us up at 3am from night clubs, her who came on holiday with us to Cornwall, drank copious amounts of gin and always had a good tale, her who played a role with me at an Edinburgh Fringe Production when we were at school. She was having a baby and I blatently wasn't.



Time has proven a healer, and the more exposure I have to her bump the easier I find it. I stroke it, probably manically, when I see her, probably abit disconcerting if you are attached to the bump.


I probably have a weird grimace smile on my face the whole time, she probably can't wait to get away from me. She looks great, she is great, I hope she doesn't think I am weird!



Anyway, I came up to do some work on the computer after a day of eating pheasant and drinking wine. I feel relaxed, the woodburner is ....burning, and I want to get infront of it but I need to do work and instead I am blogging.



Well I am going to blog off now, 4mg now, I won't drink for the rest of the week I am on the middle layer of uterine lining I guess, I visualise it in my mind as a velvet layer in a little red lit silky chamber, like an exclusive lounge bar for the rich and famous, and because of my drinking this layer is going to be laced with alcohol so if anything bounces of it, it would have a little whoosh of 'Chablis'. Tuesday I will be working on the final layer, the top and so I make a promise to myself to provide nothing but good for that one so a visualisation of a bed of folic acid cushions and a stream of purified water, tibetan meditation bells ringing in the distance, red silk sheets and yoga.


Hey, you crazy uterus, I love you.

H x