H and I are not very good at holidays. When we take them, they're usually great, but we are in the extremely lucky position of having plenty of choice, and this perplexes us. We discuss all the possibilities, feel overwhelmed, then decide to think about it, and meanwhile I'm getting booked up at work and tickets are getting more expensive. When we were in the middle of primary infertility, this confusion was compounded by not knowing when the next cycle would be, when the blood test would be, whether or not I'd be pregnant. We didn't take many holidays while we were trying to get pregnant with Pob, and one of them in particular was crap.
Things should be easier now, but we don't seem to have become any more decisive. Of course now we have a bunch of restrictions on what we (mostly I) think is a good holiday choice. Italy - superb choice. Fairly reliably good weather, people love babies, delicious food, fascinating things to see. What's not to like. H? Not so keen. We went there, you see, so now he wants to be off to one of the 1000 places to see before he dies. Like Victoria Falls (malaria), the Masai Mara (malaria), the Pyramids (bloody hot), Bali (20 hours on a plane with a baby, are you kidding me? Not to mention the 11 hour time difference), New Zealand (see above). Or he wants to go out into the wilderness and do some serious fishing and hiking and mountain climbing. While Pob and I stay at the hotel I think - not that he doesn't want to spend time with us, it's just that his hunting/shooting/fishing fantasy doesn't really have passengers - or shouty babies - in it.
I suggested a range of options. Mountain walking in Austria. Friends in Vermont or Cape Cod. Northern England, Italy (see above), Portugal, Madeira, a bigger holiday later in the year. None of them seemed to bite. Eventually we were down to a week when we could be away given work commitments I'd stupidly agreed to (covering for colleagues who are better than we are at carving out holiday). So we decided to pull our fingers out and book something. We settled on a week at a nice hotel near Cork, with good facilities, overlooking a beautiful beach, etc.
The only challenge? It would involve flying off on 12 August, the day of my scheduled beta. Now you know I will POAS before that, so I'll know what the story is, but I need to have that blood test for my own sanity and for the clinic to prescribe me any follow-up meds I might be lucky enough to need. So I suggested to Dr Not My Favourite on Friday that I could come in the day before. He initially told me this wasn't possible, but eventually said it was ok to have the test that day he supposed (let's face it, whether I'm pregnant or not, a beta on day 13 is going to be perfectly clear). However, he told me he would not advise flying in early pregnancy (should we be so lucky).
This seemed odd given the fact I've flown plenty in pregnancy before, and Dr Candour has never seemed concerned, although he did gently dissuade me from going to California when I was 5 weeks pregnant with Pob. But Ireland and California are not really comparable journeys. So I followed my usual strategy and emailed Dr Candour, who just replied to say he thought a day 13 blood test was fine, and Ireland was fine, although if we got a low positive we might have to change plans so that I stayed near a hospital in case it was an ectopic.
So that's ok then.
What I hadn't really considered is my addiction to betas. Although my clinic, like most in the UK, doesn't usually do repeat betas, Dr Candour has always pandered to me and allowed me to come in whenever I want for a follow-up. If we go away for a week, that's not going to be so feasible.
But this is all ridiculous, because the chances are that I won't be pregnant so all of this will be moot, and I"ll feel really silly about this post. And that's the ridiculousness of planning. We have to plan for these eventualities, no matter how silly they turn out to be. But this time we won't let that need to plan defeat us. We're booking the hotel and the flights tomorrow. We'll see if there's a problem when that problem shows up.