A Need for Nappies

Wow, where has the time gone! It seems quite impossible that this time last year I had just started my jabs and for the first time in 36 years, I’d began to grown breasts! Now here we are a year later, a few thousand pound lighter, a couple of stone heavier (not all that is my boobs sadly) and finally, after all this time, ready to begin round two of IVF to hopefully create our dream of having our very own Baby Leeke.  So, for those of you that followed us during round one, will know the following, for those just starting to follow our journey... Round one was a challenge. Changed me inside and out and at some points I was ready to give up. Round one resulted in a suspected Ectopic. We then fell pregnant naturally but resulted in ectopic and losing my final Fallopian tube.  The Beard has been in the Sperm donation programme because he has good little swimmers and amazing has agreed his spent can be used to help up to 5 couples in our similar circumstance. That ...

I need some happiness, hence the picture above. Back when we was care free, felt like we had all the time in the world, and appear to both share a love of HUGE glasses. I am nearly a month down the line after the monster Monday from hell and to be honest, it is all kind of now feeling tough and sinking in. I think I was so preoccupied with what was happening with my Dad that I kinda just said "OK I have had another ectopic and I am now 'Infertile', How is Dad?' Now, as dad is home and recovering, and I can see him doing so, I can go visit him and he has his fantastic sense of humour slowly coming back, I am starting now think, probably over think, everything else. I can not seem to stop playing over the speech from my Dr when she came to do the rounds the morning after my surgery and inform me what had happened. I had hardly slept because I came out of surgery in the small hours, I had been looked after the sweetest guy in recovery who insisted I needed Vaseline...

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...

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...