If we’re looking for silver linings — which let’s be honest, we are, because otherwise it’s all one great big shitty grey cloud — phoning the clinic and telling them I was bleeding made them suggest I came in for an earlier blood test. So rather than spending the weekend knowing in my heart of hearts I wasn’t pregnant but having to wait for a blood test on the Monday to confirm it, I had the blood test on the Friday, Continue reading
Tag Archives: emotional fuckwittery
So that was 2017, and what have we learnt..
Ooops, just found this in my drafts, it’s only about 6 weeks too late – sorry….
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Sorry John Lennon for poorly appropriating your lyrics, but it kind of seemed appropriate, another year over, a new one just begun and all that. And this time last year, I was learning more than I ever imagined there was to know about sperm banks. As far as I was concerned, I’d made the decision that I was going to defrost those eggs and try to get pregnant on my own.
I saw 2017 as the year that was going to resolve a question that had been preoccupying my subconscious (and my conscious for that matter) for a long period of time: The Kid Thing. I even wrote… Continue reading
(That last post might have been a bit dramatic…)
… because obviously I haven’t fucked everything up. As Laura Jane Williams brilliantly put it once “none of us is fucking up like we think we are” — which is invariably true. So I thought I’d better just check in with a post to let you know that that was a low point and I have (for now, however temporarily) ascended from there.
On the one hand, I still haven’t got my period. I mean I’m pretty certain I’m not pregnant, Continue reading
What if I’ve fucked everything up…?
So last time I wrote about the fact that I was taking Microgynon to help get rid of the cysts on my ovaries, and the idea was that I’d stop taking it, have a period/withdrawal bleed a few days after that, go for a scan and start another cycle.
But I haven’t. I stopped taking Microgynon nearly a week ago having taken it for about 5 weeks back to back and although Continue reading
What’s going on…?
You’d be WELL within your rights to ask that. Because what are we? October 11th? And there hasn’t been a post since September 2nd. Well not a fat lot really. By which I mean not a fat lot of interest. By which I mean I’m not pregnant nor really any closer to being pregnant.
There’s been some more emotional fuckwittery — which I can’t be arsed to go into, explain, or justify to myself or anyone else right at this moment. Suffice it to say Continue reading
It’s all so quiet…
…because I’ve had nothing to say really.
As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve spent the last month at hen parties, weddings, birthday parties and trips away utterly unencumbered by thoughts of pregnancy. OK, that’s a total lie, I’m still not drinking so almost every time I’ve gone out it’s been on my mind in some way or other, but actually, you know what, it’s been fine. Suspiciously fine.
If you recall, last time I felt this fine, I did something totally fucking dumbass and realised I wasn’t as fine as I thought I was. (And big thanks to Continue reading
It’s not ideal…
Don’t panic, nothing’s gone wrong (that I know of anyway), there’s been no major setback or anything (as far as I’m aware) but do read on and the subject of this post will explain itself…
So I had the biopsy and now everything is just on hold while I wait for the results. I’m sure when we first discussed it the consultant told me that it was “like a smear test”. But then just as we were about to go in to theatre, she told me “it is quite painful” — I just laughed and said “well I’ll look forward to that.” And she quite rightly looked at me like I was mental.
I suppose what I meant was Continue reading
Emotional fuckwittery…
I promised you the headfuckery, the emotional fuckwittery, the messy lifeness, the mental rollercoaster. And what better day to write about all that than at the very end of the year? Here! Have it! My unburdening, so I can sally forth into 2017, lighter, happier, whatever, I don’t know.
In October I wrote that I had made a decision. I wrote that after
thinking, and dating, and sleeping with unsuitable people, and thinking that something might become A THING — and then realising that it wasn’t going to…
I had decided to try to get pregnant on my own. And making that decision was exciting, and terrifying, and empowering, and terrifying, and for a while it made me feel utterly invincible. Which sounds like a totally Continue reading
Egged On 