that inbetweeny bit....

You know, the odd bit in the middle of Christmas and the new year, strange old time that it is....

My clever hubby brought this for me for Christmas with no prompting or assistance. I love it.

So, we have our private appointment booked for the 8th of Jan, whoop whoop! And it seems as though there is a possibility we will still be able to access some funding through the NHS if this is unsuccessful but I am unclear at the moment how much that would be and what we could use it for. I am going to try to get that clarified at my app. In theory we could be getting treatment by February. You could knock me down with a feather.

Remus's bestie's second baby was born two days ago and we are in the process of processing that. I hate so much when it is hard to find the joy for others. We will get there, but it is taking time.

There were no bump bombs at the cousinly and it was wonderful to see all the family. I had an immensely enjoyable time, parlor games a-go-go. Luckily the only cousin who has reproduced lives in Ireland so the get together is still an adults only event, although we all regress to childhood anyway as we grew up together. So much fun.

What are all your plans for new years eve? I have none as yet and I am trying to work out what we are going to do.

Blinking, she steps back into the light...

Well hello hello. I hope all of your Christmases were relatively merry and your merry relations kept their opinions, platitudes, bumps and spawn well under control. No bump bombs dropped here yet, although we go to the huge cousinly get together tomorrow which could change that.

Today's blogs will be brought to you sponsored by the soundtracks of Sweeny Todd and Wicked (bestest Chrimbo prezzies). I cooked Christmas dinner to wicked and sang loudly the whole time. T'was a site to see I promise you.

So, how was the Christmas time in the Moon household? Well, not too bad. After the rather disappointing early Christmas present of withheld funding on Christmas eve things mostly improved. There was only one moment when I had a hit of 'the sad'. My adopted sister, who has a two year old, was remarking on the fact he was born on the 11.11.11. and that there would be no more of those this century after 12.12.12. She said that she and her other half should have got a move on and had the second one on that date. It was an off the cuff joke and she meant nothing by it, but it hit home so hard to me that she really has all of this control over things. Her son was conceived the first month they tried (and yes, she has said to me 'I know how you feel, I remember how sad I felt that first month when I thought it hadn't worked').

I know of course she couldn't plan the actual day, but she can decide to have a baby, and bam, have one. I want that control. I struggle so hard with the lack of control. Anyway, I had a sad moment about that and then got on with things.

We had a crazy Christmas morning at my dads surrounded by family, noise and bustle. Then Remus and I went back to our house and had a very quiet and chilled meal with my real sister and my mum. I have always been at others houses for the Christmas meal but this year I really enjoyed being the chef. I felt a real sense of satisfaction at a job well done. That was my favorite part of the day and I actually managed to enjoy that it was just adults and therefore totally calm and relaxed. It was a rare moment when I manage to remember there are perks to childlessness. The in-laws came over in the evening and we watched 'White Christmas' in all it's silliness.

Remus brought me a beautiful necklace all by himself which I love and all in all it was a good Christmas after all.

I hope all of your holidays were bearable, and I will look forward to catching up with you all soon. I have not had much time for blogging so after the new year I will have to set aside a day for a jolly good catch up.

With love and hugs and wishes for an amazing new year for all of us. Lets hope there are many 2013 babies in the making for this community. Unlucky for some, but in my opinion this community has had it's share of bad luck so I think it will bring us all good luck. That is my theory and I am sticking to it!

Merry Christmas!

Posting from phone so I will be brief. I don't have time to blog properly but I wanted to update you.

Firstly, a very merry Christmas to you all. I have a million posts on my Christmas prep for you in the new year.

Secondly we had our funding letter from the NHS this morning. Basically they have agreed our funding BUT they won't release the funds until at least four months from now at which point we will still have to wait for an appointment with the clinic and then wait for my cycle. So it could be six months.

We have decided to pay privately and get things moving much sooner. Like next month.

I will blog about my feelings and emotions around this soon. Surface to say it was not a letter I particularly wanted on Christmas eve. However, now the decision has been made I am going to allow myself to get excited. Things are going to happen, and soon, anxious we will be paying so they will have to treat us nicely.

Have a wonderful Christmas my wonderful friends. I am thinking of you all x x x

Luna Geeks Out...

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Firstly, sorry for going dark. Life has been hectic and a half over the last week and I have barely had time for vital nourishment and elimination functions let alone blogging. Christmas is happening, despite my Grinchiness and I need to be ready.

Now a warning, I am about to write an unashamedly geeky and filmbuffy post. Feel free to flee whist you can.

Yesterday I went to see The Hobbit. I loved it, LOVED IT, but as an uber film fan part of  my enjoyment of a film is the deconstruction afterwards. So, possible spoilers for the film and book ahead.

Here goes:

• Martin Freeman nailed it. He nailed it hard and I love him and all his quirky no-verbal communication. He was the perfect choice for this role and it was an understated and subtle performance. 
• Serena McKellan, *that thing the French do when they snack their lips and kiss their fingers, that*
• Hummm, Peter Jackson said he wished he could have done CGI orcs in the LOTR and was glad he could do them this time. I am not sure Peter. I liked the 'real' orcs in LOTR. I find it harder to suspend my disbelief for CGI. Also, not sure about the king of the goblins, bit too cartoonesque for me. Again, my disbelief was not suspended. A smaller realer goblin king would have been more believable.
• Action - dare I say there was a tidly bit too much. Plus, when the action moves so fast my brain can't actually keep up with what is going on the whole point of the action is lost, no? I would rather have had fewer, clearer and less frenetic action bits. But that is just me, Remus came out saying, 'I liked that, it wasn't as slow as LOTR'. If things are not being blown up of heads chopped off he gets a little bored. I think I just wanted a bit more clarity and subtlety. Sometimes the camera moves so fast it is all just a blur, how is my brain supposed to enjoy and process that? 
• Radagast the Brown. Flash backs to my childhood and a Dr Who with the best scarf ever made. Good old Sylvester McCoy. He, incidentally, has, without doubt, the best line in the film. It is to do with Rabbits, watch out for it. Perfect example of an addition that really worked. 
• Andy Serkis is perfection. That is all. 
• The dwarves were great, although even the younger ones really ought to have had slightly longer beards. Some looked more dwarvish and some more manlike, but I liked that they managed to give them all separate characters. 
• Did anyone else notice that the attention to height difference was not as consistent as in LOTR. At times Bilbo looked as large as the dwarves and Gandalf was not as tall as I remember. Just a niggle.
• I loved that they gave the whole film a very different feel from LOTR whilst keeping true to its heart. The comic bits, the party at the beginning and the witty lines Tolkien wrote were handled with skill and a really gentle touch. Fabulous.
• Great building up of the darkness that is coming.
• The soundtrack kicks butt, I loved all the echos to LOTR and the new bits. I was wondering how they would do the dwarvish singing and it was perfect. I came out humming the song.
• Who knew I would come out fancying Thorin Oakenshield. Oh Richard, Mr Armitage, I have loved you since North and South and the Vicar of Dibley. Swoon.
• I can't wait for the next one. 

So, anyone else seen it? Anything I have missed? What do you all think?

Right, I am all geeked out and am off to wrap more prezzies. 

Heart to Heart

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Last night Remus and I had an accidental heart to heart. I had not intended to at all, but suddenly, there we were, getting into the serious stuff. It started because I was feeling a little saucy when I got into bed, but then when we actually started 'doin' stuff', we both realised neither of us really truly felt like it and it petered out. As stated in the previous post, we are both so exhausted at the moment. Plus, I have neglected my lady like primping and preening for a week or two too many and he has not worn anything but combats and fleece jumpers for months. Man, we are a sexy couple.  His beard was tickling my nose and I was aware that it was all a bit 70's in the downstairs department. We looked like an illustration from the original 'Joy of Sex'.

I lay there for a while tying to work out what was wrong. In the end I came to the conclusion that I just don't think either of us is trying hard enough. We are both a little (or a lot) depressed, we both know we love each other and want to be together, we both know that an unshaven face here and a pajamas all day there is not going to ruin us and so we just fudge along everyday, plod plod plod. But the thing is, there is no romance. Non. Zero. Nill. Zilch. Nada. We are romanceless. We are letting life slip into the boggiest of ruts, both standing still in our funk whilst the rest of the world speeds on past us. 

I found it hard at first to tell Remus what I was thinking, because I did not want him to think I was putting all this at his door. I know it is absolutely 50/50. I take as much responsibility for the hole we are in as I am handing to him. So, first of all I tried to explain I was not attacking him or blaming him, and once I had done that I told him I was feeling a little forgotten about and taken for granted. I have asked that we have a few 'date nights' and worry a little less about blowing a few pounds here and there on doing fun things together. I want to eat more meals with a candle at the table instead of in front of the TV and I want to dress up for each other now and then. I want to remember why we started going out in the first place. 

He listened and agreed with everything I said and I hope it went in. He did ask me today what I wanted for Christmas so something seems to have clicked. I am going to start thinking of nice ways to surprise him over the Christmas period, a meal here, an outfit there, a homemade card etc. 

I also want to do a few things to treat myself. 

Today I brought myself a few new clothes online and I also booked a full waxing session and a hair cut. I am even thinking of getting it dyed. 

Oh, and in case you were wondering, after the heart to heart we had another crack at it..... and this time all was well! 70's beards and bushes notwithstanding. 

strap on the smile

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Smiling used to be my favorite. We watched this wonderful film the other night ( I managed to convince Remus to watch it with me by telling him Zooey was in it -  naked in the shower no less). Man alive I love Christmas Movies, no matter how grinchy I feel I am a sucker for a Crimbo flick. And once upon a time I used to be just like Buddy, and smiling really was my favorite. 

My nickname when I was a waitress (oh so many years ago) was Tigger, because I was always so bouncy and cheerful. Now, don't get me wrong, I have not always been happy all the time. Oh no, I have had my sad times. But no matter my mood I have always worn my emotions on my sleeve and been proud of that fact whether happy or sad. If I felt sad I was sad and if I felt happy I was happy and I never made much attempt, with family and friends at least, to hide what was going on for me. I have found this honestly with my emotions has served me well. It has helped me access the support I needed from loves ones and it has helped me feel like I am true to my own inner self. 

However....

I am finding that way of existing very hard these days. My usual honesty about my emotional state is disappearing. More and more I am finding myself strapping on the smile, strapping on the 'I'm OK face'. Because I am sad most of the time. Not all of the time, no, but most. I am acutely aware that for everyone else, the 'Luna is sad that she can't get pregnant' stuff is getting rather old. I feel like I have to ration the sympathy I elicit from my caring wonderful family. Not because I am worried it will get used up, but because if it is exhausting me then it must be exhausting them too. And it is EXHAUSTING me. I am so weary of this sadness. This angry, frustrated unfair sadness. 

I have happy moments, like my very rewarding working day last Friday which was wonderful. I felt like myself, like my happy old self. But they seem to be getting further and further apart. Most of the time there is this underlying layer of constant sadness. The last thing I want to do is lay all that on Remus all the time, although it is harder to hide from him than from anyone else. I have had a couple of mega sobbing sessions with him recently, poor boy. 

Yesterday I spent the day looking after a friends two year old boy because she was sick. I did this alongside three other folks in my family. In some ways it was a lovely day, he was cute as a pie and we all did lovely things together. But I know that I plastered on the smile and faked a good time. We were at an event with many children and babies, and there I was being mistaken for a mum at every turn. It was hard. But I smiled through it and jollied along. Today I am wiped out. So tired. Far more exhausted than I should be from half a day out. 

Oh, and then I went to my mums for supper and she god dam did it again!!!!!! Seriously mother. Engage brain before speaking. I was fading fast by about nine thirty, bearing in mind I was recovering from a bad back and a sick bed last week, and I complained of feeling very tired....

Mum - perhaps you are pregnant.

Me - I am not pregnant. (through the gritted teeth in my head I say 'I only ovulated about two days ago and in the illness induced funk of our house last week we will be lucky if we timed one baby making session right')

Oh Sweet Bicycling Hey-Zuse she said it again. Seriously, it is like an illness. My mother then preceded to tell me all about her colleague who is pregnant and hating it. Hating how it is changing her body as she is a super fit gym bunny and hating that she is going to have to take time off work and who complains about being pregnant constantly. Um, what? Why on Earth do you think I would want to here about her? Tell her to invest in a condom next time. Stupid cow (the co-worker, not my mum). I love my mum but holy moly mother of a hat stand she has a mouth on her. I have given up getting angry or upset about these things, I just go quiet or change the subject. 

It feels like my mother just cannot accept that Remus and I will probably need medical intervention. I feel like she thinks if we try each month we are sure to catch. She still sees pregnancy as something that just happens. She cannot get her head round the fact that for us it most likely wont. Seventeen months mum.... three on clomid......timed perfectly every time..... No, I am not pregnant. I am just not. I am tired because infertility is the most horrendous thing I have ever faced in my life and being sad every single day, no matter how much of a happy mask I put on, is exhausting. 

I promise I am not usually this morose and depressing. I do realise this blog has been nothing but down in the dumps. I will try to up my game and get some funnies up on here soon. Thanks for sticking with me my dears.

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Selfish Cow

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Mooooo.

That is me this year. I am feeling like a big old selfish cow-bag.

I love Christmas. I adore it. It has always been one of my favorite times of year. In years past I have got so very excited about buying just exactly the right thing for everyone and have scoured every shop in existence, I have got carried away and ended up spending far too much because I keep spotting the 'perfect' gift so someone gets three, I have spent hours handcrafting beautiful personal items for loved ones as well as handmade cards for my whole address book.

If truth be told I prefer giving presents to getting them. With the exception of some wonderful things a couple of people who know me really well have given me, I always find that the gifts I am given are not really as exciting as the buzz I get from getting it just right when I present my carefully chosen item. I am a giver, what can I say.

Well, that is until this year. This year I don't think I am a giver at all. I am utterly uninspired. I am not feeling the love or the urge to give.

I don't know if it is because all my energy is being drained by the infertility pit, or if I have pulled the covers so far over my head I am in a totally self-involved place but I am just feeling so grinchy. Although that is not entirely true. I am sort of enjoying the Christmas build up, it is just every time I try to get some Christmas shopping done I end up just buying things for me to 'cheer myself up' (or things for future Moon babies). I just don't feel very givey. I don't feel like I have anything to give.

We are on an economy drive anyway and my plan was to make gifts for everyone. Guess how far I have got with that so far... nowhere. I have done the grand total of nothing. Good grief I feel so useless. I am hoping that during the next few days I can summon up a little Christmassy giving spirit and get going on my festive preparations.

Bah humbug.

In other news, Remus has the norovirus. Lucky boy. So I have morphed from patient to nurse. I think we are better at it the other way around. He is a terrible patient because he refuses to actually give in and BE poorly.  He just came out of the bathroom after heaving his guts out and said to me, 'I need some lunch, and then I have to walk the dog...' I have put him to bed with a cup of hot water at his side instead, that seemed to me to be a better idea. Men are so silly. I am not a very patient nurse like he is, more of a pushy matron.

Poor pups has the shortest end of the stick. I am still not feeling 100% so it is a short walk for her today.

No Mum. Just no.

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 I love my mother, don't get me wrong. She and I have had a tempestuous past, particularly during my teenage years, but we have got over all that now and have a great relationship.

The problem is, when it comes to infertility, she just does not get it. I think she tries, and she is obviously sad for us and understands that what we are facing is hard, but she does not 'get it'.

Mum was 27 when she had me and I was conceived no trouble at all, she then sadly had one miscarriage before conceiving my sister at 30. All three pregnancies were planned and happened within a month or two of trying. I think if we got to the point of a pregnancy that failed she might have a better reference point, but this not being able to get pregnant at all seems to be something she finds really hard to compute.

Bless her heart, she tries really really really dam hard to get it and to say the right thing but she has officially exhausted ALL the classics. Every single bloody one. Phrases that are I am able to laugh off or ignore when coming from a friend seem much harder to take when they are coming from my mother. I am afraid she has made me cry on more than one occasion and Remus (the husband) has had to jump in and explain why that is hard to hear.

To be honest, over the last few months she has got much better. I have not had a platitude launched at me for ages. There was even a moment when some granny friends of hers were talking babies and she felt the pain of second generation infertility and I though we had had a real breakthrough. They were totally dismissive of my infertility and my mums sadness at not being a granny yet. I thought at last she had understood. And then, yesterday, she launched a doozie.

Oh dear mother. Your foot and your mouth seem to have such an affinity.

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Basically, I caught the lurgy. And possibly the plague too. There has been a particularly virulent norovirus making the rounds of the UK catching people unawares. I have been avoiding most of these things this year as I have not been out and about with large groups of people much, I have been holed up at home writing.

Anyhoo, I went out to an event on Saturday. An event that contained those carriers of disease, those diminutive pox monkeys: little children. By lunch time I was feeling strange and I was at least an hour and a half from home. I got in the car, drove like hell, and used up my last reserves of energy to get myself back home.

As I came in the door I burst into tears, collapsed on the sofa and was immovable for the rest of the evening. Remus was running round after me like the lovely fella that he is and by night time it was (too much information is possibly about to follow) coming out both ends. And that is all you need to know about that.

So on Sunday morning I rang my mummy for some sympathy. Which I did get, she was very sweet and kind and mumsy, wishing she had time to come over and look after me. Until she said it. Yup, she actually said it. Can you believe it? I imagine any infertile lady reading this is going to know exactly the phrase to which I am referring....

My mum said to me, as I was lying on my back feeling ill as feck, having just spewed and shat my guts out....

"You never know love, maybe it's morning sickness!"

"No mum, just no. NO. It is not morning sickness. It would be unlikely to be morning sickness in two and a half weeks time when I am on cycle day 28 or so, seeing as the chances of us conceiving naturally are incredibly low after 17 months of well times sex has failed. I am, however, only on cycle day 12 at the moment, and seeing as I never ovulate until cycle day 15, and I, without a shadow of doubt, had a perfectly respectable period twelve days ago, I am about as unlikely to have morning sickness as you are. In fact, you are possibly more likely too, despite your menopause, seeing as we know you have had it before."

Of course I did not actually say that, although a few months ago I would have. I just sighed, and said...

"No, it's not."

And changed the subject.

I love her, and her heart is in the right place. I genuinely think it is just a case that her mouth says things before her brain can catch up. But seriously mum, no. Just no.


*oh, and I have been fiddling with the design - I rather like so far*

Well, hello there.

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How very nice to meet you. I am over the moon that you have dropped by.

Well, one has to start somewhere, so this is it.

Welcome to my humble corner of the blogesphere. Pull up a chair, get cosy, and tell me all about it, as Frasier would say, 'I'm listening'. I want to make some new friends, have some laughs, swap some stories and generally share the love.

This rollercoaster ride we call infertility is a big old grotbag of horrid. Help me laugh through the stupid days, enjoy the good days, winge and moan about the bad days and scrape me up off the floor and put me back together after the worst of the worst days. I promise I will do the same for you! Pinky swear promise with a cherry on the top.

I am living in limbo land currently, awaiting the go ahead for our first IUI. I am Mrs inpatient pants and so all of this waiting is driving me up the wall and down again. Limbo land is boring boring boring.

So, tips from those who have been through the wait please... What can I do to stay sane while I wait it out?

And welcome, do come back and visit again.