Today is our penultimate day here in beautiful Majorca. You know the one. The day where you realise you haven’t packed enough ‘evening clothes’ and knickers. I’m also on the penultimate chapter of a book called Wellth by Jason Wachob, founder of MindBodyGreen. This chapter is called Live and amongst other chapters like Eat, Believe and Connect, the books ultimate aim is to help the…
So, since the capers of the April ectopic pregnancy and going back to work and pulling myself together (caveat: ha! within reason) countless people have told me that I should be a writer. That I should maybe write a book. But I’m like, apart from being honest about the IVF, endometriosis and our cervical ectopic pregnancy, what else is there? I’m pretty sure I don’t…
Last week was my first week back at work. Well, no. The week before was, but for a whole week I had no email account so just sort of loitered and attended meetings and caught up with people face to face. And nothing much had changed. Apart from some of my favourite friendly faces having left the company, the deal was pretty much the same.…
Today is the last day before I go back to full time work after 3 months off. By the time I post this I’ll probably already be sat at my desk trying to figure out what my login is. Did I achieve what I ultimately dreamed of in this time off? No. See here about that. However, I have for the first time experienced the…
Firstly. PERIOD. Let’s all say it shall we? Out loud please. Men too. Especially men. PERIOD. PERIOD. PERIOD. Well done. Let’s try TAMPON. TAMPON. TAMPON. TAMPON. You’re doing great. I’m really not trying to be condescending. But why do we still have a problem with all this? Why can’t we ask men…our husbands, boyfriends, dads and brothers to pick us up some tampons from Tesco…
I swear there’s alcohol in 0.0% non alcoholic beer. Because I’m sat here on a Saturday night, home alone – bar the sausage dog – indulging in a Thai takeaway and said ‘beer’ and I’m all a bit…thinky. I don’t even like beer? The catalyst for the deep thoughts, aside from the ‘beer’ and the transition of them in to this here blog post, was…
I’ve been awake since 5.30am when I woke up crying from an unpleasant dream. Today I should be 9 weeks pregnant. And this happens every Thursday. I am reminded of the progress that my precious pregnancy isn’t making. I know the suspected due date of it too. Dec 21st. Readjusting to not being pregnant when you have finally accepted that, my god, you are, is…
However, let’s start with yesterday first. Yesterday was tough. Apart from seeing a chirpy and extremely pretty friend (hi Ange!) for a dog walk and a spot to eat in the morning, the rest of the day was a miserable struggle. You know when people explain that they can’t raise a smile? I now get that. I couldn’t. Apart from when John was giving me…
It’s 10am and I’m writing this as I wait in the Early Pregnancy Unit at my local hospital for hopefully my last blood test of this whole ordeal. We’re looking to see if my HCG level is low enough to return a NOT PREGNANT result because until then my body still in some capacity thinks it’s pregnant due to the hormone release that surged over the…
OH GOD. Oh god, oh god, oh god. What if I never get pregnant and have a baby? What then hey? Unthinkable. That can’t happen. It just can’t. I think I’d break if it did. My heart, my spirit. I’m 35 and you know what they say when a woman is 35. It’s all downhill from now on fertility wise. I can actually see me…
