Plagiarism is the highest form of flattery, right?!

Well, I’m not technically plagiarising as I am merely sharing this lovely lady’s writing rather than claiming it as my own! And I have said lady’s permission :) I’ve just had one of those moments when you read what someone else has written and think – jeez, that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling. The last point I make below especially ties in with my last blog post on ‘going public’. So, here goes.

First point of note, I’ve had a lot of people lately saying ‘oh, I just know it’ll happen when the time is right’. No, no you don’t. It may never happen, how can you be so sure it’ll happen when the medical experts aren’t?! Which is exactly what this post is about, how many people think they’re helping when they say ‘supportive’ things but are actually making you feel worse? Her second point in this post is another one I’ve had a lot from people ‘I know exactly how you feel’ – no, no you don’t.

http://saltinthewomb.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/when-in-doubt-dont-ask.html

This is another one I can sympathise with, although my HSG experience wasn’t as bad as the Endometrial Biopsy that she describes, I completely and utterly felt a lot of the same things about the experience rather than the ‘mild cramping’ that you’re supposed to get. Her doctor asking for forgiveness rather than permission, being glad hubby wasn’t actually there after all as no one wants to see their spouse go through that, and then finally – the realisation that actually, ladies, we are much much stronger than we think we are and we should damn well give ourselves the credit for it.

http://saltinthewomb.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/endometrial-biopsy-from-hell.html

Finally, this is something EVERYONE should read. It something we’ve struggled with – who do you tell? When do you tell? How much should you tell them? And not only that, remember that you can stop telling whenever you so wish. Sometimes I don’t want to talk about things, sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t want to answer all the questions people have and describe the procedure we’ve been through (that’s why I have my blog :D ), sometimes I want people to know everything to try and understand what’s going on.

I have friends, and relatives, who have tried to be too helpful – suggesting all manner of things and I just don’t have the time or energy to tell them I’d rather stick with what the docs are telling us thank you very much. Likewise there are times when all I want those that know to say is ‘you’ve been in my thoughts lately’ rather than ask a ton of probing questions.

http://saltinthewomb.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/to-tell-or-not-to-tell.html

So there you go. All this really does is reinforce the lovely feeling I have that I’m not alone going through this. There are others out there, they feel the same as I do about a lot of things and so it’s not strange to have these ups and downs and nor is it strange to want to tell those closest to you to leave you alone as you just can’t face another conversation. It’s all fantastic to know.

Pseudonyms and thinking about 'going public'....

Morning folks.

Before I update you all on what's happened in 2014 so far (apologies again for my distinct lack of blogs over the past seven months or so….) I wanted to share some thoughts I've been having. 

There are many of us in this wonderful TTC community that I have discovered on Twitter and through reading other blogs. It has been an incredible source of not only support but also information since I embarked on this journey almost three years ago. As with most of you, I write under a pseudonym and the vast majority of people in my life have no idea what's been going on let alone how I really feel about it. I have a regular twitter account as well as the one connected to this blog, but (I think…) the pseudonym I have is carefully chosen so I'm as sure as I can be that I'm very well hidden. 

But how would I feel if those people who really knew who I was found this blog and read it? I've not named any names and, aside from family members where it is blindingly obvious, there are only a few friends who I have described well enough for them (should they read it) to work out who I'm talking about. I don't believe I've been mean or malicious towards anyone. What I have been is very blunt and honest about how I've been feeling. It's very raw. Almost every time I write a blog post or go through the tweets of those I follow I well up and there have been many occasions I have cried as I've been typing/reading. This 'rawness' is another reason I prefer to stay anonymous. There's something about talking to strangers that makes it easier to open up and talk honestly. Without fear of judgement I guess.

However, I have a friend (who I intend to write more about) who has started writing her own blog about the struggles and thoughts she has had whilst bringing up her son who has cerebral palsy. She has been very honest about her journey (he is now about 8 months old I think) and she has shared it openly on her Facebook page. I think this is an incredibly brave thing to do. She has opened up about how she has found things and allowed others to read and comment. Until last week no one (not even hubby) knew I wrote this or had an alternative Twitter account. Her bravery led me to have a very honest text conversation with her and I admitted, as hers had moved me so much, that I wrote a blog too. I didn't tell her what it was about (she doesn't know anything, although she may well have guessed to be fair) but I think I would have done if she'd asked. I may yet let her know and send her a link, I may not. But the fact I'd told her kinda made me think I'd better tell hubby! Which I did. He said he didn't want to see it, or know where to look for it on Twitter, as it was mine and something to help me. Which I understand. But he did say he was pleased I was doing it and had such a supportive community around me. 

So, after discussions on Twitter about publishing with another Tweeter (is that the correct noun?!) and finally opening up to a couple of people that this exists, it kinda makes me wonder if I want to dip my toe into the waters of making this public.... Once I've done it I know I can't go back. It's an 'all or nothing' kinda decision! Part of me is scared, part of me wants the world to know exactly what's been going on behind closed doors.

The decision certainly needs a lot more thought. So for now, dear readers, I think I'll leave it between us. As for the future? Who knows.

Finally, the update from December 2013! I know it's now August 2014. What can I say?! Oops....

Well Hello. It’s been a while.

And for that I sincerely apologise. There’s no real decent explanation, other than the fact I’ve been really busy. I shall explain all shortly, but I guess I should catch you up from my last blog post in December last year! (December?! Jeez…).

First things first, I realise I’ve been incredibly tardy and not let you all know how our meeting with the consultant on 10^th December went. Interesting, I think is the way to put it. The consultant was lovely and said that all tests (even the dreaded HSG!!!) had come back absolutely fine, no issues at all. Just as a final double check they wanted to give me an x-ray. An internal x-ray. Dontcha just love it when they spring that on you?! So there I was again, knickers round my ankles with no prior warning, having a probe covered in a condom inserted. Yay. Still, they saw my ovaries clearly – to the point where they could see an egg just about to pop**! Blimey. It really is all ok then?! In which case why had it been (at that point) over 18 months with no success??

So the consultant discharged us, there was nothing more they could do. They don’t offer IVF on the NHS where we live (and we don’t fancy moving to the nearest NHS Trust to us that does) so she gave us a price list and said it was completely up to us how long we left it before we went down that route. We are officially diagnosed with ‘unexplained infertility’ – in that everything seems to be working, there is no reason why we shouldn’t be able to conceive, but for whatever reason we can’t. She also asked us about stress, which was an interesting conversation, as it is something both of us have wondered about. And it’s something I will come back to in more detail later. But there you go. For now at least; no more hospitals, no more drugs, no more prodding, poking and unplanned insertions.

December 2013 also gave us our final slap in the face of the year. Which is not a pleasant way of putting it, and I absolutely mean no ill will to those concerned, but that’s how it felt. Plain and simple. We are very lucky in that we have the most utterly gorgeous nephew and that we see my brother and sister-in-law as often as time allows (my brother works shifts, which makes finding a weekend we’re both free difficult). I was also very aware that they wanted another baby, they didn’t want their son to be an only child. Brilliant, I thought, I’m ok so if we can conceive within a cycle or two of each other the cousins will be about the same age and how fab would that be!

On 22^nd December they all came round to ours. They’d been with us a while, nephew had been out splashing in puddles, and then they dropped it on us. She was pregnant. And they hadn’t just found out – she was due to have a 12 week scan a week later. Holy cow the mixed emotions. So thrilled we would have another nephew or niece, wonderful our nephew would have a brother or sister. Stunned that the lovely little picture I’d had in my head of cousins together had just been torn up in to a hundred thousand little pieces right in front of me. I couldn’t cope. I excused myself and went and sobbed, whole-heartedly sobbed, in the bathroom.

What I must however state, despite all that, is just how incredibly touched we both were by my brother and sister-in-law telling us when they did. Just the five (altho I guess actually six!) of us together, before they had told any friends or either set of parents. We were second to know after the doctor. And for that I will be forever thankful. It did however present itself with a very interesting set of circumstances when all the parents found out a few days later as an extra Christmas present! I haven’t told her parents anything, although I guess she could have so they might know, but my parents were completely torn. Thrilled for them, but wanted to make sure we were ok.

So there you go. That’s all from December. Bye bye 2013 – you go down as truly one of the worst years I have ever known. F*ck off, and roll on 2014 J

**and yes, having seen an egg ready to pop we did indeed get to it for the next few days. Altho, as I’m pretty sure you can guess, it didn’t work.