Baby love...

Alright! Here's some new pics. There's me at my NPQH graduation, my mum and me on mother's day, my family round at mine on mother's day, my family at my brother's and me and Tom and my brother's. God, they're hideous pictures of me but thought I'd share my graduation!

Well hello there. I would just like to officially announce that I am done with tweeting. I have tried my tweeting best for days but, just like my toad of an estranged husband, twitter seems to ignore my phone! Somewhere in cyberspace there is a whole flocks worth of tweets of mine but they do not want to appear on my site so I am giving up with the whole "connect from anywhere else in the world" and will therefore only be able to update from my laptop. Probably a good idea though as mist of the time i am utterly incomprehensible when away from a computer as it usually means I am at some sort of bar!

Anyway, thought I'd update with my latest shenanigans in a more traditional way on here so apologies to anyone who has had a fruitless search for my tweets. (is it only me that thinks that sounded a bit pervy???!!!))

I've had a pretty busy few days being a lady of leisure on school holidays - it really is exhausting with all that shopping to do, lunches to have and people to sip tea with. as if!!!

I've been run off my feet in actual fact, been wrangling with some major life decisions and also had my leg burnt off. So, inbetween all of that, I have actually managed to meet up with a load of my mates but it's all been a bit rushed and I'm actually whacked in all honesty.

Take yesterday for example... I had had yet another random day in my loft (I'm trying to clear it out before the rafters collapse due to there being too much junk up there). I had inadvertantly stumbled upon yet another bag of ST's general rubbish and have now come to the conclusion that he must have put loads of stuff up there that I didn't know about as I keep finding tonnes of it. In fact, it would be just like him to make my sodding roof fall down around my ears, destructive little weasel that he is!

Anyway, i found a load of his Uni tops, some rugby tracksuits, a load of clothes and some expensive looking cufflinks. So, I packed them all up into a suit bag that I found and struggled out of the loft with it all. My plan was to dump it on his mum's doorstep as they live really close to town and I was going in there to meet some mates for lunch. So, I wrestled the body bag style suit carrier out of the loft - christ it was heavy. Who on earth knew that rugby kit could be so flippin heavy. I had also tucked in a load of wedding stuff that I'd found, including the card he'd sent to me on the morning of the wedding which had the message "I'll love you forever, can't wait for you to be my bride. I'm so happy and can't wait for the rest of my life with you" blah blah blah etc etc. I had a snarly curled lip to rival Elvis' after reading that and was still snarling as I loaded up my car with the body/suit bag.

I drove to his parents' house and had a bit of a mare because even though I was on half term I had kind of forgotten that his mum would be too. So, I had a bit of a dilemma. Do I knock on the door and risk seeing her after over a year? Do I dump it and run? Do I take it home and have to drop it off another day?

I took the cowards option which was to haul the body bag out of my boot, dump it on their doorstep and ring the doorbell. The idea was that I'd jump back into my car and drive off before anyone saw me. Great plan.


WRONG!


I jumped back into my car to drive off and the flippin bin lorry had turned up. It had completely blocked the road and I was trapped outside their house, directly in line with front door and with nowhere at all to go. Iit didn't help that the neighbour at that moment decided to have a chat with the binman about her recycling crate.

I was in such a panic that I did what anyone woudl have done at this point.


I hid in the footwell.

It's not often you get up close to your car's pedals and the plus side was that I did find my favourite lip gloss that I thought I'd lost but it's no fun being wedged underneath a steering wheel in a sports car, especially when the bin man knocks on your window and gives you a wink.

Luckily, either ST's mum wasn't actually in, or had spotted me conducting a lone game of hide and seek in my own car but no one opened the door before the bin lorry had gone so I managed to make a hasty getaway. The bin man obviously thought I was a bit odd or a complete car thief as he started pointing me out to the other bin men. Lord knows why. I'm sure it's every day that a girl rocks up outside someone's house, drags what looks like a body bag out of the boot, dumps it on someone's doorstep, rings the bell, runs away and then hides in the footwell of their own vehicle.

After driving away like a madwoman, I arrived in town and did my usual "scratch my alloys on a bollard and park too far from the machine to reach the ticket so have to open the door" trick. I also had to park on the tenth floor which was so windy I almost took off. My barnet was very unforgiving and I spent the rest of the day looking as if someone had replaced my hair with fifteen fluffy easter chicks.
I had to dash as I needed to get to the jewellers before I met my mates. One of the girls I met on YAYW a long time ago gave me some advice about how to sell second hand jewellery. She had recommended a really posh jewellers in our town who sell it on a commission basis so i went there.

They were really nice to me in there and I had lovely cups of tea and everything whilst I was waiting but my top tip is to never rock up to an exclusive jewellers in tight jeans, stilletoes and a T-shirt which says, "Groupie looking for musicians". It's not really what Cartier envisioned when they supplied the shop I'm sure.
Despite looking like Amy Winehouse's blonde twin (my hair hadn't got any better), I was treated really nicely and managed to agree a commission of £1200 for the rings which I was really pleased with. Not sure when they'll sell but it'll be a nice phone call when they do.
However, it was a bit weird sitting in a jewellers with all these lovely couples all around me trying on wedding and engagement rings. There was so much hope and happiness in their faces and I felt like the evil divorce fairy sat amongst them under a little black cloud. I could also tell that the man really wanted to ask my why I was selling almost brand new rings but I resisted spilling the beans and tried to concentrate on losing my Elvis snarl and smiling nicely and sipping my tea whilst all the other couples cooed over diamonds and I tried to stop my thong poking out over the top of my jeans. (God I must have looked a right state).

Anyway, just as I thought it couldn't get any worse, I heard a voice that made me feel sick. No, it wasn't ST or anyone he knew. It was worse. It was a girl that I had once had to sack at work and who only knew me when I was engaged to ST. She had come in to have her engagement ring polished as she was getting married soon and was stood right behind me. So, for the second time in less than an hour I hid. I pulled a huge Cartier catalogue up over my face and sank down in my chair. The man must have thought I was nuts as I refused to reveal my face (Iwas opposite a mirrored cabinet) so conducted the rest of the transaction through 150 glossy pages of jewellery.

Luckily, she didn't see me and left before I had to sneak out with the catalogue. I arrived very stressed at the pub with my mates though and needed a large falafel wrap to steady my nerves!

Things are also mental in my private life and if I tell you, I'm sure you won't actually believe it...

I went to the doctors the other day to have a lump on my leg checked out. Appears it needed to come off which is why today I've had a very small op to remove it. It doesn't hurt at all which I'm pleased about and now I won't look like I've got a raspberry stuck to the top of my thigh either! However, whilst I was there the other week, I discussed my infertility with her and asked her what exactly was wrong with me. When I was diagnosed at 26 it sent me into a tailspin and although I was offered counselling, I never took it and so just lived with half a story and no hope. But, when I spoke to my GP, she explained that there was a 19% (very exact I know, how they calculate this I'm not sure) chance that a form of IVF might work for me but that if I wanted to qualify on the NHS I'd have to sign up there and then as I'd be 35 next year so wouldn't qualify. I'd always saved money for IVF in some sort of vain hope that medical science might catch up and be able to help me but I never truly believed it would - guess that's one of the reasons I spent my savings on my TT!!!!

I went home and was so stunned I could barely think. I've spent the last 7 years thinking there was 100% no chance (and my lack of contraception and lack of babies) had convinced me of this. However, here was my GP saying that there might be a chance.
After managing not to have a complete panic attack and to not be sick, I spoke to Tom later on. He was thrilled and said that we should sign up straight away. I was much more hesitant though and have spent the last couple of weeks mulling it over and talking to my family and friends about it.

They're all convinced that it's obviously fate that I asked on that day and that that would have been my last eligible date for my GP to refer me. They're also all convinced that if I have a chance, I should take it. Tom's 100% certain that it's the right thing to do and I have to admit that I feel like all the pieces might finally be slotting together.

He's said that I can give up work if I like so that I can concentrate on the treatment and not be stressed but I don't think that's what I'd want. My work has been my life for so long and I think I'd be lost without it.

My brother was worried that Tom might feel railroaded by the urgency of the timing but he's since been convinced that that's not the case at all.

My mum's delighted but concerned that the treatment might be traumatic or make me ill but she's so happy that there might be a chance for me.

I just can't seem to get my head around it. My divorce isn't even finalised and here I am planning a baby and a new life. On the one hand it's bonkers and on the other hand it's a dream come true. I never once thought I'd get another chance at happiness and now here is a whole new load of opportunity. It really is a complete life changing decision.

So, I'm booked into the doctors for some hormone tests and Tom's booked in to be tested too and we've been offered the first clinic date of 21st April. Unfortunately, this clashes with major work things that both neither me or Tom can get out of so looks like it'll be mid May before we see the consultant.

The thought of holding my own baby is an opportunity I never thought I'd get in my life. I've lived most of my adult life enjoying other people's children both at home and at work and I never thought I'd even have the chance to think about the possibility of stroking my own baby's hair, holding their hand or watching them sleep. It's a complete mind shift for me to even think about watching two pink lines appear on a pregnancy test and saying the words "I'm pregnant" to my partner. They were always meant to be things that happened to somebody else and now, all of a sudden, there's a tiny, tiny, tiny chance that these might be things that could one day happen to me.

Just as I thought it was impossible for ST to ever leave me, just as I couldn't comprehend just how much it hurt when he left me, now I equally cannot begin to get my head around the fact that my life might just be, completely and totally different in every way.

Tom has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. He makes me feel safe in a way that ST never did. It's like I've taken a huge deep breath since I met him and I've finally begun to relax. His arms are the gentlest place in the world to be and when he speaks to me to reassure me, to tell me off for worrying or simply to tell me that he loves me, it's as if all the hurt, the doubt, the self hatred and the panic just dissipates.

My parents say that I'm a much nicer person since he came along and that the constant worry face I had before with the furrowed brow and the twitchy hands has gone. Tom's helped to give me the strength to believe in myself again and now the doctor has given me a glimmer of hope of having the one thing I've always wanted but never believed I could have.

I'm fairly sure the IVF won't work as my condition is quite severe, but just the belief that one medical professional has in my chances has given me hope that there might just be another miracle waiting in the wings for me. Tom's changed my life totally and now, if there's any chance we, as a two, can become we as a three, there's no doubt that I'll jump at the chance.

So, I've been busy trying to sort my house out so that I can let it over the next few months as Tom has asked me to move in with him. I've said no for the moment as despite the IVF potential treatment, I want to take it slowly. So, I'm looking to move in with him in the Autumn and will spend the summer putting in a new kitchen, getting my house rewired and having a new boiler so that when i do let it, the tenants don't have to live like Scott of the Antarctic.

In the meantime though, I'm trying not to drink as much, I've been advised to put on half a stone by the doctor to increase my chances of conceiving and I'm trying to be all healthy. It's only one chance I have at this and I'm going to give it my best shot. as it says on the plaque in my room...

"Sometimes, on your way to a dream you get lost and find a better one"

Never a truer word spoken I do believe.

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