I’ve mentioned on here before about the two somewhat disastrous holidays that we’ve had as a family. Not completely disastrous in the sense that one of us got incredibly sick, or we had to come home (although we nearly did) but in the sense that we miss-chose holidays, not thinking about the mini tyrant we were taking with us. Fast forward to November and we had an opportunity to take a last minute week away somewhere. We initially looked at Cape Verde. But after much Googling and deliberation we decided that six hours on a plane with the kid was a no, no and we read that there are strong waves and currents, and a constant wind around the island. So we settled for what seemed to be the easiest option for some November sun, Tenerife. Now to find a suitable hotel. This meant whittling down a shortlist of hundreds down to ten, then scouring Trip Adviser for hours, discounting favourites because Fred from Manchester hated the place. Ultimately the ones we were left with took kids in the kids club from age three. From these we chose the Bahia Del Durque Hotel in Costa Adeje. It ticked all the boxes really. It had four pools, was on the beach, had access to restaurants outside the complex if needed, a shopping centre nearby and most importantly, it had a kids club that would take Olivia. WIN.
What can you remember from your sex education at school? Do you remember anything specific? Can you remember any details? I have a vague recollection of being in a science lesson and the teacher trying to control a bunch of giggling girls, whilst talking about willies, lady bits and a baby in a tummy but this is about it. What I don’t recall however is really being taught periods, ovulation and fertility. Fast forward to now and I’m in a situation where I’ve had to become far more aware of what happens inside my body each month because my fertility is an issue. And this is something I’m only fully aware of in my (late) thirties. But what if this had been something I’d been aware of, from my teenage years onwards? Okay who knows what situation I’d be in now, but what if young girls were taught about fertility, alongside sex education from a young age, would that be a bad thing?
I was invited along to an event recently, which was a first birthday bash and a celebration of women in business. The day was about giving likeminded ladies a chance to come together, to eat wonderful food, to network and to listen to a panel of business women talk about how they’ve managed and made it in a sometimes male dominated world. Sounds pretty good, right? Hugely inspiring yes? On paper, yes. The problem was that I didn’t think too much before heading there and when I got there, I panicked. I felt like a total fraud.
We’re ten months down the line from when we made the final decision to go for IVF and whilst I’m no expert on it, I know a heck of a lot more about the whole process, than back when we started. It’s been a real learning curve for me and my husband. There’s so much you’re not aware of before you take the plunge, despite probably the majority of us knowing friends or family who have had to have IVF. Pre treatment, I somewhat naively just though you went in to your clinic and they magically did something with your sperm and egg, and VOILA!! OK maybe not quite but, I didn’t know about the daily injections, or having to have a general anaesthetic so they can collect your eggs, and I definitely didn’t know about the emotional roller-coaster that it all turns out to be. It’s IVF but so much more to boot. A lot of which you don’t or won’t have considered beforehand. Obviously I’ve learnt a whole load more, but here are ten main things for you.
Normal service is resuming here on the blog. My power is slowly returning after being sapped in the summer break. Now that it’s October, my holiday to France back in August seems like a lifetime ago, which is essentially what the previous month feels like when you get to my age. My holiday was with my family, and by ‘family’ I mean my husband, the kid, my parents, two older siblings, their respective husband, wife and kids (fourteen of us in total), not many people can say they’d holiday in such a way. It would, I imagine drive some of you bananas but we all get along really well (read as, not in a Waltons-esque way, but we all like a good laugh and a considerable amount of vino). I’ve written two previous posts about our holidays together but this time, having done an epic drive to and from France a few times now, I wanted to write about how we get through it semi-unscathed with the kid in tow.