Counting the days...

As the last days (hopefully days rather than weeks!) of this pregnancy slip away, I've had a realisation. But before I start, I want to be clear that I am not at all worried or stressed or pessimistic about the labour and birth - either the process or the outcome. Since getting upset talking to my doula, I'm feeling much calmer - I think I just needed her to know how we got to this point and, now she does, the stress has lifted. We also did another fear-release exercise at our meeting last week and I think that was useful.

But the realisation is that I still can't actually imagine having our own baby in my arms in the space of a few hours/days/weeks at the most.  I've thought about it and realised that the IF journey contained so many processes that had no 'outcomes', that I've got used to that.

We tried naturally - nothing happened.
We had testing - nothing happened.
We had IUI after IUI after IUI - nothing happened.
We had IVF - at last, something happened!

But though I've been enjoying this pregnancy immensely and feel so grateful to have that opportunity, I'm half expecting it to be another process which I go through and there is no 'result' at the end.  Like something to tick off the list - 'well, we've done that, what next?'...

I don't know if this will make sense to anyone else and it's hard for me to express without giving the impression that I'm worried about the arrival of our little guy, which I'm not. Maybe I'm just impatient to reach the end of this stage of our journey and meet the baby boy we've waited so long for (and I'm writing that with a smile and not a tear in sight!).

Worst pregnancy brain (and worst wife) ever

So, if forgetting my Bloke's birthday yesterday wasn't bad enough, I managed to forget despite:

• hearing the doorbell ring early (I was still asleep) & getting up in the morning to find a bottle of wine on the table (from my husband's driver) - then proceeding to ask my Bloke over email who woke me up ringing the bell and why is there a bottle of wine in the living room?
• scrolling past my phone calendar reminder of his birthday to check where I was meeting a new friend later that day...
• talking to him on the phone for 15 minutes and still not remembering...

I finally remembered at lunchtime and sent him a message.  

In my defence, my Bloke doesn't like to celebrate his birthday - he thinks greeting cards are a waste of money and paper (after 10 years together he has gradually come round to getting me a card, most years). We have also been in the midst of apartment/hospital/furniture-hunting chaos and my brain was fully occupied with finding us somewhere to live.

OK, there's really no excuse - he knew he probably wasn't getting a gift (he doesn't mind about this usually) but might have expected a 'Happy Birthday' at some point... what can I say? I'm the worst wife ever :(

Happy Birthday to me!

Before starting this post proper, I'd like to say that I am not usually an attention-seeker, at least as far as my birthday is concerned. I rarely do anything special and don't demand an array of presents, unlike some friends of mine!  But if I can't mention my birthday on a blog which is entirely about me and my life, where can I?!

So today I am 34. Birthday activities so far:

• Breakfast in bed (made myself as my Bloke is in Seoul) whilst opening a few cards
• Trip to clinic for injection
• Emergency visit to H&M to buy something that fits me... I am absurdly bloated, partly from the IVF and presumably from fluids/gas. Anyway, I have a couple of pairs of linen trousers and some skirts that I can get into, fine for the summer. But I woke up to a colder day today (temperature has dropped 20 degrees C in the last 3 days!) and realised I had no pants I could do up.  I managed to button some combat pants on the wrong button but couldn't zip them up, so had to cover and hold up with a long top. I'm reluctant to buy maternity pants - it just seems too early, both physically and mentally/emotionally. I'm still getting used to the idea that this pregnancy is real and hopefully here to stay... Anyway, in the end decided that a couple of long tops/shift dresses worn over leggings will probably be OK. Tried to stay away from anything too 'smock-like' as that is not my usual style and people could start getting suspicious!
• Lunch by myself at one of my favourite restaurants, having my absolute favourite greek sausage dish. I could eat it all over again just thinking about it :)
• Nap at home after lunch
• Now just waiting for the removals company to come round and assess how much crap we have to move to Seoul.

Hope that doesn't sound like a bit of a sad day!  I have a lunch with friends and book club evening planned for tomorrow and that's enough of a celebration for me.

Now back to something I mentioned in my last post... telling my siblings. I had decided not to tell my older sister and brother yet.. it's still so early and it seems too soon. My little sister lives with my Mum, so she knows, but will not say anything. They all know about our IVF, but only my Mum knew the schedule. Then I realised that my big sis usually calls me around my birthday. I remembered this when our home phone rang on Sunday night (a rare occurrence!) and I couldn't hear anything but echo when I picked up the phone. This could only be my sister having technical trouble! I panicked and turned off my mobile phone quickly as she was sure to try that next. I felt a bit stupid after in case it was just a cold call, but then the email arrived Monday morning - yes, it was her and which number should she try me on to wish me Happy Birthday?

That means I have a choice - lie or tell the truth, as she will inevitably ask about the IVF. This is a more complicated decision than it sounds (isn't anything involving family!). My sister is in her early 40s and single. It would be a cliche to say she's been unlucky in relationships... this is what I would've said in the past, but recently it's become clear that she is suffering from some level of depression and is struggling to come to terms with her life, both now and her past. Some of her angst is related to our childhood. That really is a saga long-enough for a week of posts and I can't be bothered going into it now. In a nutshell, we didn't suffer any hideous trauma, but my sisters and I are all in-fact half-sisters and we didn't have a stable father figure around for most of our childhood. I've dealt with my Daddy issues over the years and have realised that parents are just people, equally entitled to make mistakes as anyone else. But it seems my sister hasn't and still blames our Mum and her Dad for not having the picture-perfect upbringing. Somehow, she also seems to think that I had and have the perfect life. This despite the fact that her Dad is still in her life (however imperfect he may be), whereas I've had no contact with mine since I was 18 months old.

Imagine then her feelings as I met my Bloke, fell in love, moved overseas, found a vocation and eventually got married. Over the years I have faced some anger and resentment from her, sometimes hidden, sometimes more open as her mental status became more unstable. I have dealt with it, knowing I am lucky to have the life I do, though I have had my struggles to get here. In some ways, the infertility seemed to almost start to even things up between us - 'at last, something in my life wasn't perfect!'. But she wants children and is aware that her time is running out (her words, not mine). So, in the end, I still 'win' because at least I've got a husband to have fertility treatment with!

So how is she going to deal with my news? I had planned to tell her in an email, followed up by a phonecall once she had time to process. This is how I've liked to be told when a friend of mine got pregnant and I think the situation here is the same. But if she calls, I will have to be upfront. I can't lie. I would have to do it outright and there's no way I can do that. So I guess really, I have no choices. But that doesn't stop me being afraid of seeing her name come up on my mobile phone.