A Need for Nappies

I think I am OK. I mean, I have cried lots today, but I have laughed and the fuzz is finally clearing. Maybe that is because today I found out that this evening is the last time I have to inject myself. It is very weird, all this time I have felt utter shit, I actually think, as it has become such a habit, I will miss them. Did I just say that? I think I did. So Friday we visited Bourne, they internally scanned me, which is always an uncomfortable process, but it is pretty cool having a little guided tour of your womb and ovaries. The nurse was lovely, as always and gave me a good look round my ovaries and took all the measurements of the follicles. She was very pleased with the way they were and the way my womb lining looked. I was advised to go home and continue with my dosage over the weekend and I would be rescanned today and hopefully my left ovary had found some energy and become less lazy and played catch up by then. The weekend hit us, Saturday I felt sickie and had a

Why do I write this? Why do I tell all and sundry how shit I am feeling? I do it because, believe it or not, it helps me. Writing down all the emotions I have been through and am constantly battling make a little more sense to me when I can get it out into words. It is not a 'oh woe is me; It is not a 'I am so hard done by, and if you think that, believe me, you do not know me at all, I love drama, I am the QUEEN of drama, but Not this. This is something I am dealing with because the end goal is to give me something I have always wanted and to make us a family. That is what keeps me going. Funny thing emotions, especially when you can not get them out exactly how they are in your head. I have spent the last 24 hours pretending everything is fine, everything is better, when in actual fact I have had the biggest knot in my stomach, the constant feeling of sickness and sheer disbelief at how many people come forward and offer support and love, those near to you, those you

Well this is fun! Said no one ever on this dose of drugs I am sure! Since I last wrote, I think I have experienced every form of emotion, every expression from horror to sheer delight has past my face and every possible thought has run through my mind a thousand times. But Here I am today, Wednesday, HUMP day and I may have been forced into being OK as The Beard is down with Man Flu.  Poor old boy, hardly makes a fuss, I mean that is clear that is my role in this Marriage, I nailed that early on in our relationship and he knows the score, but when he grumbled of a sore throat Monday evening, whilst I laid in a massive blanket of self pity and selfishness, I realised he must be feeling it to mention it. He had a restless sleep, I had very little, and he left for work at 5.30am and to be honest, he looked bloody awful, I couldn't get back to sleep, I was hell bent on getting out of the house yesterday, I mean the day before had been a wash out, I cried, I screamed, I broke down

So it has been a mad week. Emotions running high, patience growing thinner by the minute, the feeling of sadness is constantly glued to my insides and all the while I am trying to stay focused on the greater good. I thought by now I would be feeling different, happier even. I have started the Gonal F injections, so now I have to stick myself in my fat belly with 2 big ass needles, but I thought it would start to perk me up. If anything, the last 2 days, I  have felt worse. Last Wednesday I left my job, my friends and my 9-5 sanity. Thursday I headed off with my pillow and snuggle blanket and sat in the back of a car for 7 hours as I travelled with The Beard and Big Brother to Glasgow for a funeral. The funeral was that of Uncle Davy. Uncle Davy was a true hero and legend of a man, a decorated war hero at 97 years old, we expected a small affair. Well we was wrong. 400 people, including 2 supporter busses from Celtic, being the oldest season ticket holder, he was well loved and

Sorry I have been quiet for a few days. It has been testing and miserable, and I just have kept myself to myself! Friday, I was off work, had a nice day planned, ended up doing none of it and being ill all day and night, joy. So that was a waste of a day’s holiday, although that is irrelevant now as it turns out tomorrow is my last day in my job anyway. I have been in my role a year and a bit, I love my job, love the guys I work with and I am going to be very sad to go, but I decided to take that option, as the stress and changes would not be right for my current, emotionally unstable mind and right now it is all about me and operation baby Leeke.  So Back to the weekend, Saturday was The Beautiful Niece Number one’s baby shower. An event planned for weeks, and one very much looking forward too, up till about Friday afternoon when the panic stated to set in.  I had the worst panic attack, over what I can only explain as nothing and yet it felt like everything. Anyw

The misery continued, the spots grew, the sweating is immense and unbearable but today is not so bad. I didn’t  write yesterday because I had a really bad day, the worst so far and once again I didn’t want to write about it. Or relive it.   It has basically been so disgusting I have hid away at work and then driven straight home, barely remembering how I got there and hid away there.   The want of having a baby has always been in me, and only my nearest and dearest know just how much, I know to most I'm a crazy, happy person, often in a pub,behind the bar or in front of the bar, but all I ever wanted to be growing up was a wife and a mother. To find out at 21 after a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, this would be a struggle, |I felt empty. I was heart broken. Then to have another ectopic, then miscarriages, just a constant feel of utter uselessness. Then to go through such terrible hormones and periods every month, and not to even be able get the end result that you go

I am literally counting the days down to when I can start bringing myself out of menopause. I figured being so hormonal, literally and having a high level, that I would be OK at this stage. This was/is not the case. I wake up opposite a huge mirror and immediately see my fat, spotty, sweaty self and the day starts bad. I have tried to paint my smile on, again literally, but it just is an utter waste of time. So instead for the first time ever, I have become ‘The Quiet’ one. I know right, that is a shock, a turn around, but it has happened.  It is far easier to sit miserably, keep myself to myself and that way people are safe, I am safe and I can try to process things. The day went fairly smoothly, I was tired, hot, my back was niggling and I was so miserable. No matter how many times I told myself it was my hormones niggling and not my head, I could not snap out of it. So, I plod on with my day, looking forward to my first reflexology treatment in the evening. The day

So! Fairly uneventful weekend, apart from sickness, mood swings, hating on life and many movies and being a superhero. Friday evening was lovely, after work I popped to love Muffins house, Love muffin is the sister of Penfold. She has 2 beautiful little babies and it was lovely to spend time with them. I had been explaining to her how I was struggling with injecting in my belly as it hurt and bruised me. She had previously told me that I could inject into my leg. I was worried about doing this without guidance, so I had my jab with me, and asked her to show me. Love muffin went one better, she bloody did it for me, with ease, no sting, no pain. Was this the way forward? I could not believe the difference. The Beard came over to meet me, as Did Penfold and Smithers and we had a lovely evening. Saturday I woke feeling, let me just open one eye and see…..OK.  I was finally seeing my Superhairwizardess today and getting my grey covered and hopefully, that would make me feel better, as