Don’t tell the, er, parents…

So, as you might have guessed from my previous post, it’s full steam ahead, all guns blazing, let’s try and get pregnant on my own. Project Faberge is GO. Well, sort of. I’ve booked the appointment to talk to my consultant about IUI, IVF, donors and all that, and I’ve joined the Donor Conception Network, and I’m all set to work out the protocol, pick my donor and all that. But I’m not planning on actually starting the process until after Christmas. Continue reading

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A sober wedding

So I went to the wedding, and I didn’t drink. In fact in one of those beautiful/tragi-comic ironies, I actually drank less than the pregnant women at the wedding. While I watched them treat themselves to a glass or two of champagne, I barely had a token sip during the speeches to avoid looking conspicuous. Looking like you’re drinking when you’re not is hard. Although sparkling water with ice and lemon does a mean imitation of gin and tonic. And it helps if you volunteer to go to the bar – or if one of your friends in the know kindly offers to get you a ‘gin and tonic’ when they go to the bar.

But you know what? Having dated sober, Continue reading