lifeslurper

What day is it? Is it Wednesday?

This has truly been a surreal few days. The good news is that the Wobbles has survived his medical emergency and is now back home.

Alas, as expected, he is already working. That annoys me so much, but the desire to punch him in the stomach is over ridden by the knowledge that such an action would cause my loved one much pain right now. Continue reading The All New Wobbles AGB

The experience of infertility has long felt just like another in a life-long succession of failures. It is hard to get beyond the idea that I wear this special ‘tag’ because of yet another thing I cannot do. Infertility means not having a baby, and in our house ART and IVF normally mean waiting for the next step to collapse into another steaming pile of personal failure.

After events last year, I began a slow process of trying to reclaim a few things for myself. This has sometimes been an arduous task, and as it has been such a tiny, personal endeavour, efforts have easily been swallowed up in the day-to-day grind of living, surviving and hoping for baby success. We have our own measures for things, but sometimes we need external recognition for our efforts. In keeping eyes firmly on the Big Prize: the delivery of a Take Home Baby, it is easy to lose sight of how far we have actually come. Continue reading Making a friend of IVF failure

Deformed Slurper

What is it about infertility that allows us as women to throw all caution to the wind, or at least to the door of our nearest fertility clinic?

There is something about the constant medical intervention of ART that makes us become somewhat fearless in the face of repeated surgery, anaesthetic and medication taking.

Continue reading Lifeslurper by a crooked nose