Tag Archives: baby

And on the seventh day…

… she created life. Hopefully.

Today I got impregnated, again. Two ice babies successfully made the short journey from the freezer to my uterus, stopping only to thaw nicely in the lab. Clever little dividing cells.

Let this be the one (or ones). This is either the start of an excellent new (and very intense) adventure, or the end of the road. It’s been a strange cycle this one. Not nearly as intense. It’s easy to forget that I’m doing it (well, almost). I even had wine, since I figured I wasn’t growing any eggs that would be useful, and any effects of the small glasses of wine would be metabolised quickly.

I tell you, it was pretty damn easy to fall off that wagon. You would think that after being practically teetotal for the first time in my adult life, it would be a) hard to give up in the first place, and b) having more or less given it up, that taking it up again I’d be like the Cadbury’s kid – a glass and a half would be more than enough. But I still have to stop myself at one (or two). Of course, that’s all over for the foreseeable future. The foreseeable future being the next two weeks.

Two weeks of Christmas parties, end-of-year lunches, silly season dinners. With nary a champagne bubble in sight for me.  I think for the sake of avoiding having to lie, I’ll be at those parties, lunches and get togethers with a glass of wine spritzer, rapidly warming in my hand.

I’m feeling confident and convinced of failure in equal measure. Today anyway, perhaps because the weather has turned arctic, blustery, grey and cold, despite it being day 4 of summer. Please come back sun. And please let me be pregnant – I’ll even take twins – insta-famiglia.

Namaste little baby/s. You’re very welcome here. I promise to provide a healthy and safe home for the next nine months, and for the rest of our time together in this dream.

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Baby, baby… how I got here

I thought it would happen. Like it happens for pretty much everyone on the planet. Sometimes not too successfully I realise, but still, by the amount of people in the world hooked up, married, partnered, or in any way together, just by sheer weight of numbers, it seems like an easy, natural … thing. People meet. They like each other, a lot. Hey, they may even be soul mates, or at the very least fall in love. Then that progresses, usually, into babies.

So I didn’t plan. I know some women plan, but I’m not a planner – though that is changing! Surely most people just meet someone, without a whole bunch of “goalsetting”, which sounds too life-coach-y. I didn’t plan, and I didn’t meet anyone either. .

Of course I’ve had my fair share of relationships, but to be honest they have usually been pretty short. I’ve tried internet dating, singles nights, bars, pubs, clubs. Work flings (bad idea). Holiday snogs (great idea!). One night stands (usually bad idea), and as previously mentioned, falling in love with someone who was otherwise engaged.

Over the years there have been some great guys, and some pretty ordinary ones. But the timing wasn’t right, or we didn’t click, or whatever and nothing really stuck. I have a range of “issues”, but don’t we all? I try not to make those issues into excuses and I don’t want to blame anyone else, because everyone has things they have to deal with, whether it’s absentee parents (me), childhood trauma (not me, unless you count emotional trauma – oh, ok, we will count that), abuse (thankfully, not me) and other things that happen.

When my 30s started to run out, I continued to think, oh, it’s all right, I’ll meet him. I’ll have kids. But I didn’t. And so here I am.

Then about three years ago, I started to think I could do it by myself, because before that I didn’t want to do it by myself. My very good friend has a child using a sperm donor, so I know the reality of it and it’s fantastic. She has a beautiful girl and they have such an amazing relationship. She is such an amazing mother. But I had thought – not for me. So when I started to think I could in fact do it, I finally started making plans.

Then the GFC (or GFFC as I like to call it) hit and I was made redundant. Pretty hard to pay for a baby when you are unemployed. Long story short, I wasn’t unemployed for long, just kind of temporarily employed, which was very unsecure. And now finally, after nearly three years, I have a job  which is secure, and pays pretty well. Of course, a couple of years had gone by, so I was a couple of years older, but I thought I should investigate.

I’ll go into more detail about that later. But here’s a teaser to keep you coming back! I went to the “best fertility doctor in Sydney” who basically told me there was no sperm, I was kinda, almost too old, and having “failed to establish a meaningful relationship” there might be something wrong with me, and that maybe my strategy should be to “look up those old uni friends”. I kid you not.

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I got a subscriber!

I have readers! Well, reader, singular. Thank you Rachel.

Everyone, please feel free to subscribe. In fact, please subscribe! Knowing I have readers will ensure I am diligent and post. As you can see from the inception of this blog, diligence is not one of my strong points. I plan to post twice a week, so your inbox won’t be crammed with me.

And if I have readers, then maybe this blog will become something else, like a book. Or a film, like Julie and Julia/The Julie/Julia Project. Who knows, though the film bit I’m not really bothered about. Though I wouldn’t say no, who am I kidding!

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