Drought

I treat readers of this blog in the same way I treat houseplants: I like having them a good deal, but my ultimate contract of care concerning them seems to primarily feature neglect. I always intend to water them, mind you. My Cactus plants thrive, but the tender, fragile little delicates slump, quick or slow, into sad, inescapable decay.

Greetings, my dear Cacti! We are the prickly rare-bloomers who can hold our drink!

And I do like this blog. Love this blog, in fact. I’ve clung onto it in the chilly face of spousal opposition, counsellor criticism, and enough personal outings to fill an entire Enid Blyton book. I have to choose my subject matter rather more cautiously these days, which is, admittedly, a right-royal pair of hair knickers to wear; yet I would pay a higher price than a little sticky-tape to the cake hole in order to secure my conduit to you, my fine, proud, rigidly upstanding Cacti readers (I will cease the analogising soon, I promise. I shall submit my pet cactus to AccidentalDong.com and have done.)

Accidental Dong contender

whose words, however spikey, I value.

I have not, as it happens, been moping. I made a decision vis a vis further offspring, treated myself in delicious fashion to a long (long!)-delayed read of Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond chronicles – and that lost me a week’s sleep that I didn’t begrudge a single wink of – and went on a little holiday.

John's teeth departed his jaw courtesy of a hockey ball, btw. I haven't clobbered him with the frying pan lately.

Yes. My hair really does look like this in the morning.

I had hoped that Harry, knocked about from his bout of ‘flu, would revive a little, but we’ve brought him home as hard to handle and exhaustion-prone as when we left. I console myself, grimly, that downward spikes in behaviour with Harry often presage a development surge – and try to ignore the fact that John and I have been seething subjects of a succession of tiresomely jejune envelope-pushing swipes, for comically trivial parental transgressions against the toddler code, such as daring to proffer a sandwich containing the incorrect filling or placing the CD player on the wrong shelf.  

Enlarging, no pun intended, on the offspring topic: all systems are go for the great Yes. If I sound brief and jaunty, it’s in painful contrast to the actuality of my torturous sorry-I-could-not-travel-both thought processes, but I feel you’ve suffered enough thousands of words. My final cogitations can be loosely summed up, albeit untidily, by the Buddhist parable of Krisha Gotami (also referenced recently in a post at Glow In The Woods, an excellent website that I feel everyone should know of, at least.) which I hope I shall not be telling with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence.

Onwards. Our IF clinic demands that you have to go and watch a video about it, as well as having your photo taken before being allowed to be infertile these days. I protested, avec sharp expletives, that I have had 6 rounds of clomid, 2 rounds of IUI, 2 rounds of IVF and 4 miscarriages under my ample belt, as well as something a little livelier than a mole between my ears. I have, damn and blast it, their bloody t-shirt; I require no video-showings. Protested; to no avail. We have our Introduction to Infertility (or, whatever) video showing and an IUI cycle to look forward to in a couple of weeks. Hubba hubba.

John is particularly irked by my insistence on starting with an assisted cycle because, as he rightly says, we are not, in fact, infertile, and could likely manage an organic pregnancy all by ourselves, given a year or so. I agree: we might. We probably would. But I am nearly 36, congenitally impatient, a habitual aborter, possibly anovulatory, and all my instincts concerning Project Pregnancy scream blitzkreig

So. If I jump in: I jump.

You will, of course, my rare desert blooms, see me both before and after the flipside.

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22 Responses

  1. Oh my! How exciting…will be waiting with baited breath to see how this goes and crossing all crossables!

  2. Your accidental dong qualifies, I think, as an accidental dickhead, due to the very cute planter!

    Much luck with the intended cycle…and on dealing with the toddler. We have daily battles in our house…we have left the irrational arguments behind, fortunately, but have moved on to the little one completely ignoring us.

  3. Bagsie be a mistletoe cactus.

    Surely, yes, start IUI, in for a penny, in for a pound. See how the ovaries respond to a little light poking before hammering them with The Almighty Stimuli. My fingers are very very crossed.

    As for the video, you are entitled to talk, loudly, throughout, about all the things they are getting wrong or skimming over.

    The holiday looks very jolly indeed. The photo of the three of you swimming is JUST SO LOVELY. As are you in Morning Hair.

    Very much hoping Harry is being grumpy-pants because he is about to Spring Forth with something that shall get him nominated for a Nobel or something. Ahhh, toddlers. Diva used to demand food, only to fling it to the floor because she wanted MORE FOOD. Which was… difficult…

  4. Brilliant and exciting news!

  5. Oh crossing e erything!!!

    Fab photos of your holiday!!!

  6. This cactus says hurray!

  7. I will seize on something inconsequential in your post and say I am THRILLED you read Lymond. Did you love it as you ought?

  8. But when you post, you water me to the brim with exciting news! (That just doesn’t sound right, does it?….)

    Delighted to hear about the Big Yes and wishing you the very best. The vacation looks like it was wonderful. And our almost-4 went through a HORRID period when he was about 3.5, same as when he was about 2.5. I am still not sure if it is just that he is rotten with transitions/changes to routine (we also verified that during our just-finished vacation of our own) or whether it really is true that kids go through a yearly cycle of awfulness/not-so-awfulness. Hoping Harry’s cranky period passes swiftly (the worst of ours took a couple months, I’d say, then the phase dies down to regular tetchiness but not horridness).

    Please let us know how it goes. Oh, I am hoping.

  9. I love being one of your cacti.

  10. I’m so glad you are having another try at a successful pregnancy, as I’m sure you would have always wondered if you had taken the other option. Wishing you lots of luck and beaming positive thoughts all the way from Oz. Can you take popcorn etc to the IF movie?

    And the toddler wrangling? Those little personalities at the imperious dictator phase? You’ll all survive it – just as the rest of us did. Your sanity is, of course, another matter entirely 😉

  11. No posts for weeks, and then you surprise us with this! I’m not sure myearly morning brain can take it!

  12. Oh great… watching a film about infertility when you probably know more about it than those who made it! I dare you to sing loudly and out of tune all the way through it.
    Lovely photos, I am very jealous.
    As for the big yes – I will wish you the best of British luck, and keep all fingers crossed until further notice.

  13. Wonderful – oh the clarity and purposefulness of a plan! I am so happy you are Decided. Good on you, I say! Leap, brave Ann! I have great confidence in you.

    My cactus fingers are crossed.

    Lovely photos, btw. Aaaaw!

  14. “…counsellor criticism…”. Sorry. I don’t get that. (a) counsellors aren’t meant to criticise, and (b) blogging is good for the soul, mind, heart, etc etc, we all know that, in fact it’s often called “free therapy”… oh… hang on a minute… free therapy… *penny slowly drops*… that’s why a counsellor wouldn’t like a client to be blogging.

    Congrats not only on the impressive accidental dong, but also on being the only blog I’ve ever come across which has used the word “of” for a weblink. You are nothing if not impressive.

    • I don’t get either… the counsellors I’ve met have been of the (right) opinion that writing can be very therapeutic…

    • Well, blogging is enormously therapeutic for half of the family, yes, but not the other half. Counsellor criticism was as a result of spousal opposition.

  15. Good luck with not making rude noises at the movie. Can you bring popcorn to throw at the screen?

    Also, thank you for reminding me to water my droopy houseplant.

  16. I’m going to ask what is probably a slightly dumb question. Why the step back to IUI from IVF? If age and success rates matter?

    Is it yet another piece of NHS silly?

    I am going to cross my crossables on your behalf because one of us needs to succeed and at this rate it shan’t be I!

    G

  17. I have found that orchids enjoy being neglected too, and in fact prefer it. For a hothouse flower, dehydration really seems to be their thing. The big advantage of cacti, however, is that their spininess makes them decidedly more toddler-proof and therefore a better bet for home use.

    Happy harriedness, in general!

  18. I’m glad to hear you’re committing optimism. And personally, I think that ploughing ahead and grasping the proverbial nettle is far less painful than grabbing a literal cactus.

    And the holiday swimming looks better than what our summer is offering up.

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