Talking and telling…

Now that I’m at the point where, despite what I thought was clever dressing to conceal my bump, I am very obviously, it appears, pregnant, I am confronted by yet another issue. How much do I say about our baby’s origins?

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What happens next…

It’s hard to know what this blog – which has been all about trying to get pregnant – should be about now I’m actually pregnant. And I suppose that sentence alone is something that speaks volumes. I didn’t start this as a blog about trying to get pregnant. When I started it, it was a blog about freezing my eggs. And when, later, I came back to it, I thought it was going to be a blog about being a solo mother. But life has other plans. And so I suppose now it’s a blog about being pregnant with a donor egg after trying to get pregnant for so long.

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When you’re making other plans…

It was John Lennon who apparently said that “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans” and Woody Allen’s credited with saying “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans” — even though my suspicion is that Jewish grandmothers have been saying it for millennia. Undoubtedly there’s a bunch of other quotes from various wise civilisations that say pretty much the same thing. The bottom line is that you can do everything in your power to create a certain outcome, but it turns out that “everything in your power” is pretty much the square root of fuck all.

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Time and time and time…

Time and time and time…. simultaneously like a winged chariot and like a Southern Train (topical reference there — basically read “slower than slow”). Honestly, when I was looking for a quote about time passing slowly (something that would have been slightly more erudite than a Southern Trains reference) I found one attributed to Alice Walker that said: Continue reading

The result…

So I got the results of the ERA test… and they were normal. Basically my endometrium was receptive on the standard day. I’m not one of the 25 per cent of women who should have their embryo transferred before or after the standard day. And I don’t need to pay £1200 to have another test to narrow down the window of receptivity. Which should make me feel delighted. But weirdly left me feeling rather flat.

I guess I was hoping that this was going to give me The Answer. This was going to tell me 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

Perspective – and weather

Perspective – like hindsight – is a wonderful thing. I’m frequently lacking in it. But then I rather think that we all are. It’s just very easy to get so wrapped up in our own worlds and our own worries, and our own mini dramas that we can’t see anything but that. And I am abso-fucking-lutely not recommending a hierarchy of misery where you make yourself feel like shit because not only have you been dumped or not managed to get pregnant, but you feel like you shouldn’t Continue reading