Wagon wheels (of doom)

I had a dream last night about Wagon Wheels and now I really want one. Wagon Wheels are the worst biscuit ever aren’t they? The sensible part of my head knows that this is true, but I can’t for the life of me remember what they taste like. They taste bad don’t they? It’s like eating chocolate in America isn’t it, apart from it’s globbed round a soggy biscuit and marshmallow? The other thing that bugs me about Wagon Wheels is the name. They are called Wagon Wheels because they look like the wheels of a wagon…. just like nearly every other biscuit, yo. I’m not sure why I am telling you this, but it seemed very important in the night so I will record it just incase the significance comes back to me.

Also, one more thing about Wagon Wheels. They are big, so as a greedy child I would always choose one because they were the biggest biscuit. Then I’d have to eat it and I would look around in envy at all the other kids scoffing good biscuits, real biscuits, like custard creams and bourbons, party rings and jammy dodgers. My other mistake as a greedy child was the dreaded “tea cake”, which isn’t a tea cake but a marshmallow ball on a biscuit with chocolate on top. I should write “marshmallow” because that stuff is more like marshmallow diarrhea.

Ok, I’ve googled the teacakes and apparently it is not marshmallow, it is meringue. It is not meringue.

The other thing I feel I need to get off my chest is how much I hate, HATE, Utrogestan. How I miss the sweet bum bullet cyclogest. Utrogestan looks innocuous enough. Small little pessaries. A seasoned IVFer would laugh in the face of Utrogestan, but the joke would be on them. A few hours after the Utrogestan is in place, you will awake from your slumber convinced you have accidentally wet the bed. But no, no what is this? This is not right… you appear to be weeing hot, malten, PVC glue. You will probably ignore it, because you’re asleep and everything, and then you will wake up welded like cement to your bed sheet. That mo fo sets like concrete. It’s worse than when you leave the dregs of Weetabix in the cereal bowl and it doesn’t come off even after 10 goes in the dishwasher.

Grossed out? You’re all welcome.

With my BFN last cycle I started spotting at something stupid like 6dp3dt, with full on AF by 8dp3dt. By the time my OTD arrived, the clinic had already had the audit review of my cycle and my period was a distant memory. My first cycle last summer that worked, then ended horribly, I had a positive HPT on 8dp2dt.

Today, at a grand total of 7dp2dt I have horrendous, truly horrendous cramp, and spotting. Is my period is doing it’s usual and turning up uninvited to the party early? It certainly feels that way. I am really not hopeful.


BB xx


17 thoughts on “Wagon wheels (of doom)

  1. myhopejar

    I haven’t had a Wagon Wheel in years! I agree, they’re not really that good, but now I totally want one too! Hoping this random dream is a good sign and that the evil witch stays far, far away!

  2. Lisette

    Oh BB I’m so desperately hoping that’s not AF and that this cycle is golden, so sorry you’re going thru this crap. I must say also, I do love your way with words xx

  3. kiftsgate

    Wagon wheels don’t reach my top ten of british cookies.. But I do agree on American chocolate.. you know I’m still hopeful for you!! These stupid miracles have to come our way at some point. Now would be a good time! xx

  4. NotSoNewtoIVF

    Oh my love I hate this so much xx
    However I do love your review of 80s style biscuits and wheatabix knickers…how do you manage to still be hilarious?! All I manage is depressing moaning!
    So much love and hope for you xx

  5. The infernal infertile

    Oh Betty… I really hope it’s not AF. It’s such a bitch of a time, progesterone fakes every symptom of both pregnancy and AF. Hang in there… When’s your OTD?

    I have no idea what a wagon wheel is… But I was the greedy child that used to steal the packet of biscuits out of the pantry and hide somewhere and scoff the whole lot. My Mum used to track me down by following the rustling sound and the sighs of happiness…

    1. barrenbetty Post author

      Nah, it’s my period. Definitely confirmed today. Fucking hell 😦 I’m too fed up to blog but I guess I will next week. I’m so tired of this stupid shit, I don’t think I can do anymore. I’m starting to hate babies and families. I want a life of quiet and cocktails and holidays.

      I used to do that too! Lol. I vaguely remember being told off for milky bar wrappers squirrelled away down the side of my bed!!

      1. The infernal infertile

        Fuck. I’m sorry you’ve been handed the shit sandwich again.

        I totally get the fed up with it thing… Even though we’re on the DE train I keep catching myself thinking… Really? Are you sure? Can you really be bothered with all that bullshit for the inevitable outcome?

        Cocktails and holidays are awesome. And chocolate biscuits behind the sofa and Milky Bars in bed…

      2. barrenbetty Post author

        I really hate shit sandwiches 😦 I bet you hate them too. WE HAVE EATEN TOO MANY SHIT SANDWICHES GODDAMIT!! I hope the DE train is going well… I am rooting for you big time, you are well, well overdue some good news!

        I would spend the whole weekend in bed eating biscuits, drinking and crying but we have guests and their twin babies coming to stay. Need to suck it up and be brave. Then get royally shit faced xxx

      3. The infernal infertile

        Oh my god… Just what you need. Salt in those wounds at all?

        DE train is ridiculously slow. Because we’re sharing a donor we have to wait for another couple to pick her. It’s been a month so far… Why doesn’t anyone else want her? Do they know something we don’t? Did we pick the nerdy donor?

        I’ll hold the getting royally shitfaced fort for you in the meantime. You can tag in once the guests clear out.

        Totally sick of this whole “body is a temple” thing. I haven’t had caffeinated tea in almost two years… I’m bordering on homicidal!

  6. Pingback: I Heart Barren Betty | the pursuit of motherhood

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