“Hope is a waking dream.”

Last night I dreamed I was pregnant. Or maybe it was early this morning… Whatever.

I was early pregnant. Positive pregnancy test pregnant. I could see every detail of the test itself, with its little blue lines. It had a blue lid.

It was an incredibly vivid, and typically disjointed dream.
We were out with friends at a place that required considerable bundu-bashing to get to the loo, including a shallow pond that had to be walked through, and I made the trip repeatedly, paranoid that I had started my period.
My sweet Glugster and I had agreed we wouldn’t tell anyone until after the first trimester (as we did in real life) even though I was dying to say something, and in my dream we even discussed how we were going to announce it to our parents in some special, elaborate, worthy-of-YouTube way. Several times in my dream I picked up my phone to call my mom and then put it down on the table again.

I woke up with the sads. Its no longer the ugly-crying-jag-use-up-half-a-box-of-tissues sads, its now just a small thing. Kinda like a bruise you forget about that hurts like hell when you bump it.

The passing of time certainly makes it a easier to deal with the sadness and the disappointment. And since I downloaded an app to my phone that even gives me a PMS warning I am a little less hopeful every month.

More than 6 years on, hope – that sonofabitch that can drive you quite insane – still holds out.

Even if its only with a pinkie finger now…

On The TTC* Front…

This may be a little TMI for some who read my blog…

I’m a lot better about it than I used to be. I really am.

I do still feel a pang of jealousy when I hear of someone else’s pregnancy, especially if its someone close to me. But I can talk to them about it and get genuinely excited about it without feeling like a complete fraud. I can handle baby showers now and seeing new babies no longer reduces me to tears… Though I can’t hold them or cuddle them without crying yet. And ultrasound pictures still tug at my heart strings.

I still ride the roller coaster that is hope-longing-what if-maybe-please-why me-disappointment every month.

Every fucking month.

But I no longer track my cycle which has helped me avoid the insane desperation that came with ovulation, and then the crazy hoping that this time my period won’t come. At one point I actually worried about the level of urgency I felt when I knew I was ovulating- or about to, the anxiousness to make sure we never missed an opportunity to try and conceive and the intense hope that perhaps this was the one time everything would go right!

Not that my hubby ever complained… And we’ve been very lucky in that our trying to get pregnant didn’t negatively affect our sex life.


A while ago I was chatting to ExMi and the tarot reading she did for me back in August 2008 came up in the conversation. The question I asked for the reading was whether or not my Glugster and I would have a baby together. We had decided that we liked the idea of having our baby but the time it was taking to happen was starting to concern me. The results of the reading were absolutely fascinating and were very positive in terms of babies! I’ve thought about it often, and I’m sure anyone who has or is battling fertility will know that grasping at straws almost becomes a normal state of mind. Then ExMi said she had since thought that perhaps the “babies” in the reading referred to there being lots of them “around” us, not necessarily for us… And that kinda makes sense. In the years since the reading there have been more than 30 babies born to friends, family and acquaintances and there are lots still “on the way”!!

Ah me.

So what this long ass ramble boils down to is that I am no longer in tears every other night. And whilst I do contemplate fertility treatment every few weeks and once in a blue moon wonder about adoption, I do like my life the way it is now. And my selfishness and being able to focus on me and my husband instead of math homework is gradually winning me over.

*Trying To Conceive

Baby Blues…

Yup. You guessed it. I’m having a whine about that again. Feel free to click away.

I remember baby blues… Mine set in when my darling knucklehead was three days old and the doctor laughed at my tears and told me it was normal. I wish someone had warned me.

I’m battling baby blues again. A different kind of baby blues. I am once again surrounded by baby bumps.

I find myself wondering “what if?” all over again…

Did you know that secondary infertility is very common? That having one child doesn’t mean you won’t battle to have another? Did you know that as you get older it gets harder to conceive? I adore my knucklehead. He is my son and my heir. Having my boy doesn’t mean my longing to give my Glugster a baby is any less painful though.

My darling Glugs and I know we won’t be having a child of our own. We’ve been through the tests and the appointments and the examinations and we know that our chances of conceiving are slim to none even with medical intervention. We both have physical issues that inhibit us from conceiving naturally (apart from my age) and we decided that we did not want to go through the expense, the stress and the heartache of fertility treatments when our chances were so low.

Even so, I get heart sore about it. I get angry at myself when I feel bitter. I found this poem…

I sit here and wonder
Is it ever to be?
Will I get to display
The mother in me?
Wonder in time
How the story will end,
Will they just be for others-
The showers I attend.
When’s it my turn
I ask God each day,
The only answer I get
Is, “Not today.”
I ask only to know
What my future might be,
To plan and prepare
God, please tell me.
I just need to know
How long to be strong,
For sometimes I question
my strength to go on.
I sit here and wonder
Is it ever to be?
Will I get to display
The mother in me?

I am getting better at coping with it. My Glugster is my rock.

Not Again…

A short while ago, my brain was again getting stuck in that fargin hamster wheel of babies and pregnancy.

I try to make sure I tell my Glugster when I start feeling like this again, because he can tell something is up and I we agreed that we will talk it out and not just ignore it… but its hard to tell him because I feel like I should have moved past this. I should have moved on by now.

Every month there’s still a tiny little spark of hope that some miracle has taken place, but its getting smaller. I am more and more able to deal with friends’ and family’s pregnancies without crying when I see ultrasound pictures. And I can shop for baby things- most of the time- without walking away from the shelves in tears with empty hands because I wish I was shopping for me.

But once in a while, when nothing has happened yet again, I start to think “but what if we tried such-and-such a treatment” and I imagine going through the procedures and the doctors visits and the possibility of holding my Glugster’s baby in my arms, and then I think of how I will be crushed if it doesn’t work and all that money was spent for naught, and then I’ll be all depressed and whiny again and I’m just better off not thinking about it and putting on a happy face.

Going round in circles much?