Back to the start

My blog is a deserted wasteland. The grass has dried. The air is thick with dust. People have littered the ground with empty crisp packets and used cans. Torn and faded pictures of Henry Cavill are scattered around. There is a run down shack that used to be a smart, tidy little place where I used to live with my friends Bottle of Gin and iPad. Now there is nothing. Well, almost nothing, because I am back to visit with a little tent and a fancy new macbook no less. I hope I can find some gin around here somewhere.

Having skipped out of my clinic doors 21 months ago, I believe I said “hopefully forever” (to the tune of Skinny Love making my ears bleed), I found myself back there last week. That 21 months went surprisingly quickly. Nothing much had changed. Same old downcast faces in the waiting room, eyes glued to the floor. Same old fake flowers. Same old (actually they are not old) receptionists full of happy beans, blowing me kisses and waving.  I handed over more money; they gave me some tablets. The Scientist by Coldplay was playing.

Things chez Betty are good. We have moved to a shiny new house. My little bb embryo can now run, shout, and as of last week I discovered can eat dead flies. I have been increasingly thinking about our miracle frosties and I feel that now is the right time to arrange a FET. I’m ready to draw a line under fertility treatments and move on. If it all goes to plan (haha) I should be able to have a transfer in mid-October. I have decided to pay for embryo glue this time since it’s something new my clinic are offering and I’m inclined to throw everything at this final cycle. Has anyone else used embryo glue? Any pearls of wisdom you can throw my way? I am half intending to have a scratch. I’ve been pregnant with scratches, pregnant without, as well as having BFNs with scratches. Hmm. I am also undecided about acupuncture. Hang on, that isn’t throwing everything at it is it? Oh god I don’t know. Can someone just tell me what to do?

In other news, I have just read that one of my all-time best fancies Joshua Jackson is back on the market. Yesssss!!!!

I hope you are all keeping well. Please fill me in.

BB xx

bb

Well guys this update has been a long time coming. I’ve had it in drafts forever* and it went along the lines of: everything is normal blah blah, something about planting two different types of potato, a story about a box of pencils and a special sharpener Mr B bought, etc etc. Baby bb was breech until the day before my 36 week appointment but she flipped in the nick of time. The most dramatic part of my pregnancy has been anaemia. It really has been one lovely long period of normal boring. Magic.
(*not forever)

So yes, that was the update I drafted on the eve of 36 weeks. Thanks to you all who have checked in on me and the lovely Single Motherhood By Choice who pointed me in the way of this for breech babies.

Well turns out everything wasn’t quite the normal I thought it was because I was reacquainted with my old enemy Red at 36+2. Red. The colour I used to love but love no more. I hadn’t seen that bitch since the first trimester, and she was back with a vengeance.

I won’t go into detail but after a short blind panic and trip to the hospital in the wee early hours my little bb embryo, all grown up, was in my arms. According to my notes, in a record breaking 1h 47m labour. I don’t know what time warp they operate in because it was 3 hours by my watch.

I am eternally grateful that she is here safe. The bleeding was likely the placenta beginning to separate and for a short while things became a little scary. But she is here. After almost 5 years, several operations, a bajillion tears, miscarriage, 4 cycles of IVF, and the other miserable cycles that were cancelled, my baby is finally home.

BB xx

Normal

I am not sure why I even have this blog anymore since my commitment to updating it regularly appears to have disappeared along with my glasses which I have not seen since well before Christmas.

I have been contacted by a few people asking for an update on my pregnancy and there really isn’t much to update on. Everything is normal so far, and come Friday this week I will hit the big 2-4, viability. Everything is so normal in fact that I have been discharged from consultant care back to the midwife. I don’t think I’ve once been referred to as ‘normal’ during the last few years – suboptimal response, yes, abnormal anatomy, yes, disappointing, poor quality, damaged, yes, yes, yes. I’ll take any normal label anybody wants to give me.

I feel strange writing about pregnancy on an infertility blog, even if that has been the goal all along. Whatever I have to say seems trivial and I can’t help but think about people reading who had their cycles with me in September and are now just staring down the barrel of another go, or giving up entirely. I think about the blogs I followed a couple of years ago when I started blogging and although the majority now have babies, it’s not everyone. I think about friends who have had multiple cycles and multiple failures and I know the desperate, empty sadness so well. I think about how I felt after my first IVF cycle ended with a miscarriage and the subsequent disastrous cycles and BFNs. I think about how never ending the process can feel (and be) and I feel sad for my friends still getting smashed and bashed by that bitch infertility. So every time I sit down to blog I just think about those things and all of a sudden I have nothing to say again. Well, nothing except posts about making felt out of cat hair, taxidermy or Henry Cavill.

I’m not sure about continuing this blog anymore.

Makes me a bit sad after almost 2 years.

BB xx

P.s. I saw the worst taxidermy of a fox last week in a second hand furniture shop that had squiffy eyes and buck teeth, and I didn’t even take a picture of it. I could worry about myself some days.

Cats are naturally ego friendly and so are cat hair crafts

I know a lot of us here (me excluded since my entire family and husband are all allergic to fur, sensitive souls) have fur babies. I also know from reading your blogs, as well more generally sensing it through the interwaves, that you are a crafty bunch. Well ladies you can thank me later, I found you this.

How did I live 31 years and 352 days (yes this is a hint for presents) and not know that crafting with cat hair was a thing?

Reading reviews on Amazon is one of my favourite past times. Here are some of my favourite reviews from Crafting with Cat Hair:

“I thought this was disappointing and wondered why there weren’t more “real” cat hair projects (like rings, bracelets and other small items)”

I don’t know girls, maybe the more serious cat lovers out there can shed some light on this, but cat fur jewellery? I remain unconvinced and slightly itchy at the thought.

Great book but my wife didn’t appreciate it as a birthday present and hasn’t made me anything.”

Oh Derek, this is sad. I bet Derek spent years surrounded by malting cats, fur piling up around his chair. He would pick up the fur balls and let them run through his fingers, shivering with cold from the draughty windows in his ineffectual, fraying aged cardigan. He would huddle round his small coal fire and shake his head at the waste of all that lovely cosy cat fur. Then finally, FINALLY he finds this book and buys it for his dear wife for her birthday. Shame on you Derek’s wife. Shame. On. You.

“‘Crafting with Cat Hair’ was originally written in Japanese. It is therefore the product of another culture, and this should be taken into account before laughing at it… In a Western context, then, this book might best be viewed as providing an insight into Japanese feminine crafting traditions rather than an introduction to a hobby that anyone would seriously consider taking up.”

Okay, I feel bad now. I am also judging Japanese feminine crafters which is making me feel even worse.

A happy story to end on:

“Now I fill my days creating wonderful finger puppets from genuine cat fur and I have the pleasure of sharing my hobby with the world. I show my creations to strangers on the bus (although I’m quite unlucky in that I always decide to show my puppets to people who are getting off at the next stop)”

Melts my heart. After my crafting with cat hair revelation, I went down the internet rabbit hole and ended up at taxidermy. Taxidermy is officially my new favourite thing. Gonna put this bad boy on my birthday list.

I don’t want to leave those of you with fur baby pooches out, so here you go.

According to the latest happy owner of Knitting with Dog Hair: Better a Sweater from a Dog You Know and Love Than from a Sheep You’ll Never Meet, “this is a fantastic book for all those people who prefer their own ‘home-grown’ products”. Now as you know, I have an allotment and am all about growing my own fruit and veg. I am not so sure about growing my own dog hair for clothes. What about you?

BB xx

Belated Christmas review

Our car wouldn’t start on Christmas Eve. If you have ever seen our car this may not come as a surprise to you. Last time we went to the IVF clinic the exhaust pipe fell off, the indicator box is currently held in place with duct tape, it only has 1 hub cap left, the AC is broken/never worked in the first place and the heater only works on one setting (The Sun). For reasons unknown it didn’t used to go into third gear but this has mysteriously resolved itself. It also doesn’t have a boot shelf anymore because we accidentally left it in a car park once (long story).

You know those people who say “don’t put off ’til tomorrow things that you can do today”? We laugh in the face of those people, so when we needed to leave on the morning of Christmas Eve we still had to finish the mince pies we had been tasked with baking as well as wrap presents and pack. So of course, in the way these things tend to go, the car wouldn’t start.

Then you guys, two Christmas miracles happened.

1. A neighbour filled with the Christmas spirit came forth from their house and jump started our car… and it worked! Christmas Miracle Number One! The bad news was that this meant Mr B had to drive around aimlessly to charge the battery.

2. This further meant I had to finish the mince pies on my own… and they looked like mince pies. Another Christmas miracle! (Side note, the Christmas cake was cut and people ate it. Actually, now I come to think of it, the only people I had visual confirmation of were my Mum and Mr B. Maybe I won’t audition for Bake Off just yet).

One of the best presents I received for Christmas was a telescopic back scratcher*. Behold:

And fully extended:

image

*incidentally, I get an itchy back every time I look at the back scratcher. Does it have that power through the internet? OOH, I KNOW, I will do a poll. This is my first ever poll. I’m glad it is for something so important.

My feet looking like sexy beasts in my new slippers:

My Christmas review has a sad ending this year as our car never made it back home again. Bye bye rust bucket, sorry I left mouldy bread in the door for the last 3 months.

I know well that Christmas is not a fun holiday for an infertile. It certainly never has been for me. I reached breaking point last Christmas and refused to do anything or see anyone I didn’t want to (everything, everyone) and spent the entire duration drunk and sad. Looking back to my blog post last year I described myself as in hell with my arse glued to the floor. (Reading it back there is also a medium to high chance I was drunk at the time.) So to all my infertility sisters who ended this year still stuck in the trenches with no end in sight, I am sending you some love and wine, and flipping the bird to 2014 for you. May 2015 show us all some love.

BB xx

We haven’t talked about Henry Cavill in a while

Exciting acupuncture update of the week… I have been entrusted with my very own moxa stick. I am to warm my belly button with it every other day. I haven’t unwrapped it yet and it looks like a tampon. Behold:

At the end of last week I “booked in” with the midwife (that sounds like checking in at the airport and it took about as long) and today I have had my NT scan…

…and I don’t want to write a pregnancy blog. I know, I know. No headless bump pics, no musings on my symptoms to feast your hungry infertile eyes on. You won’t know if my wedding ring is on or off or how many pounds I’ve gained. I am so sorry. I think this is it in the way of pregnancy updates from me.

Wait. There was one exciting moment during the scan where I was asked to go and “almost” empty my bladder, but not quite. I weed hard for a solid 30 seconds. My bladder was still full. Mysterious.

Okay, now I’m done.

If I carry on blogging I can see where this is going and it ends in lots of posts about ways to catch and deport all the fat bastard rabbits who gorge themselves at my allotment, ways to have people who annoy me in the swimming pool arrested and pictures of signs I like* (and I fear even more rocks/crisps/clouds/trees that look like penises). As much as I love myself, I’m really not sure it’s a blog worthy life.

*This is from the hotel toilet of the mini break I went on before my viability scan. I had a whole blog post planned… then I had heavy bleeding and forgot all about it. Behold the sign in the toilets:

Who doesn’t post hand towels through letter boxes? I didn’t need a sign to tell me that.

The main thing I wanted to write about during our mini break was that I found the place I am going to hide when the world goes to shit and I am the leader of rebels in the post apocalyptic dystopian future. I have a picture of it, but maybe I shouldn’t show you incase you follow me there. Or maybe I should so that you can meet me there and join my army. Ok, I’ll show you, but remember that I am the leader**.

Behold, base camp (there is a cave to the right slightly camouflaged by foliage that will be my headquarters:

**Also, two hot men will fight over me and one will look like Henry Cavill and one will be look like Eric Bana. I will (obviously) be unable to choose between them, partly due to them being hot and partly because I am very busy being the leader of the rebels. I am also deep and mysterious which further adds to the problem and confuses everyone because nobody knows what I am really thinking. I will probably end up (accidently, also probably without realising it myself) making them both fall in love with me. (I also don’t realise how beautiful I am, even though it is dead obvious to everyone else around me.) When I realise what I have done, I will probably question who I am and leave on a long trip of self discovery to find myself and reconnect with my purpose in life. I will probably get captured and Henry and Eric will have to join forces to come and rescue me and maybe one of them will nearly die.

OH GOD STOP ME. THIS IS WHY I NEED TO STOP BLOGGING.

BB xx

P.s. I watched the film “Last Night” last night. Shite. It did however draw my attention to Guillaume Canet who is my new current fancy. At least he was hot in that film, but less so when I googled how to spell Guillaume just now. Anyone else on your radars this week?

Christmas cake update & even more

Yo babes.

I’ve done loads of cleaning this last week. The fact that this is news is an indication of the level of clean my house usually enjoys. Other things:

1. Christmas “cake” update: I have attempted to deflect attention from the undercooked “cake” with an intricate marzipan decoration. We will see how this pans out probably in January when someone gets round to releasing it from its greaseproof paper and foil chamber.

2. I bought Mr B some new work shirts. Here are a couple of my favourite reviews during my research (review reading is fast becoming my new favourite hobby):

“I can say that the shirts have not lasted well. When the sleeves have been folded up in the summer due to the heat, if you are not careful you can easily put your elbow through the fabric and tear it – as others have said – … Be very careful if folding the sleeves up.”

Those damn shirts with weak elbows. I’ll have to remember to tell Mr B to be careful when rolling his sleeves up. It’s *so* annoying when your man comes home with holes in his shirt because his elbows bust out of them *again*.

“The shirt is lovely but all the buttons fell off within 20 minutes. This resulted in me spending an hour in the bathroom of the office trying to sew them back on.”

If all the buttons fell off my new shirt in 20 minutes I would not describe the shirt as “lovely”, I would describe it as “shit”.

3. For the first time in my life I have used vacuum packed bags for storage. Oh my days. How did I not discover these sooner? They vacuum stuff, like, well small. What was once a mountain of spare bedding is now a shiny, rock hard, 2 ton nugget under my bed.

4. Amazon prime. You order stuff one day and it arrives the next day… even on a Sunday. Amazon prime has a lot to answer for (vacuum pack bags, a bumper pack of magic erasers and several packages for Mr B which I strongly suspect are Playstation games and CDs, to name a few).

5. Magic erasers. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. You need them in your life. Those bitches are MAGIC.

6. I couldn’t sleep last night and I decided to get up and measure the circumference of my head. According to FACT (google), the average human head circumference is 53 cm in females and 57 cm in males. My head circumference is 57cm. The fuck.

BB xx