Our First Round Of IVF Diary

It’s been a while since I wrote a post about what was happening fertility wise (or not as the case may be) I’ve not really felt like sharing every step of this journey, 1, because that would be rather boring and 2, because it’s hard enough dealing with it day by day, as well as writing it all down. It becomes a bit all consuming, the ever disappointing cycle so it’s good to not constantly be putting fingers to keyboard, writing about it as well. My last post back in April was about my husband and I having made the decision to start IVF. A lot has happened since then, lots of clinic appointments and so, so many injections. I’ve made a diary of sorts, talking about everything to date. This isn’t my usual post, it’s a little more erratic but hopefully conveys the crazy few weeks I’ve had.

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Raising A Strong Girl

Chatting to another mum in the park recently, we both recognised that we have already started to hear other children (generally older) telling our daughters, ‘No’. Little things like, you can’t come on the slide because ‘you’re a baby’ or ‘no you can’t play with us’. It seems that meanness starts to creep in, even at such a young age. Both my friend and I agreed of the importance of trying to raise our girls to be ‘strong’. And by strong, I don’t mean so that my daughter can physically fight back, windmill arms style (although occasionally this might be needed, see later point below), I mean that I want her to be able to stand up for herself, know when people are being mean or unfair and be able to hold her own.

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Taking The IVF Route

It’s happening. The road I never thought we’d have to go down, we’re on. We’re about to embark on IVF *pulls imaginary train whistle* After a fairly straightforward first pregnancy naturally I assumed I’d easily conceive again but since having a chemical pregnancy, things have gone doolally with my monthly cycle. And quite simply, nothing has or is working. Having IVF has obviously been talked about, it’s been in the back of my mind but I guess me and the husband both hoped that we wouldn’t get to that point. It’s been a possibility, something we may have to consider but I didn’t actually think we’d have to do it. Other people have IVF, I know so many that have had it, everyone knows someone whose had it these days, but I honestly thought it wouldn’t be me.

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On Giving Yourself Space

I’m into week two of the Easter Holidays and boy, am I finding it a little on the difficult side. See, the kids nursery stops for the holidays so that’s me out of my lovely day and a half that I have to myself and I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve found it really tough. That day and a half is when I ‘get shit done’. I write, I edit, I surf the net, I waste time on social media (obvs) I do admin, house-min and most importantly get the chance to sit in a coffee shop uninterrupted. It’s much needed time away from my sidekick, as much as I love her. She’s full speed my daughter, a bruiser in a princess dress, a Duracell bunny, she’s all go and no, I wouldn’t have her any other way. But, as we sidled into week two of the break, because she’s with me with 24/7, I’ve been reminded how incredibly moany, whiney, and three year old-esque she is. My patience has worn thin. I’ve uttered more empty threats in the last few days than I have in the last year. The only thing that has been giving me comfort is the amount of other parents I’ve seen muttering and shouting at their own children to, ‘WILL YOU JUST LISTEN!’. Thank god it’s not just me.

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Impossible Tasks With A Toddler

Toddlers, the mini tyrants of this world. They are the Kim Jong-un of the small people. We love them but toddlers are hard work, fact. Anyone saying otherwise is delusional, lying, or has help. And despite being so little, they contain a huge amount of energy that springs into action from the moment they open their eyes in the morning. I’ve yet to find an off-switch. Especially when mummy has a hangover. When I think back to those early hazy days with a new-born, they’re like the holy grail. Okay, okay so there are some sleep issues and you’re running on empty, but when you finally venture out of the house, leaky boobs strapped down and downstairs bits not aching anymore, you can generally sit (or do the manic rocking holding the baby) and drink coffee and talk to friends. And I mean, actually have a proper five minute conversation uninterrupted. You’re not having to physically grapple muffins you haven’t paid for or chase after your child whose legged it with the next tables pastries. These are some tasks that are utterly impossible with a smallie in tow. kindred-hues-photography-YTQQYQ6_g1s-unsplash

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