Thalia's fertility journey

Back to the peesticks

About 2 weeks ago I noticed some signs of that lovely EWCM, you know, that stuff which means you're fertile. So I peed on an OPK, and after 3 days it turned positive. We used the opportunity to have some nookie on the relevant days, and then I got ridiculously excited. I seemed to have lost the infertile protective shield of pessimism. I knew it was a small chance, but I started to think about what it would be like to have babies 16 months apart (and was terrified at the prospect).

Those of you who have been around for a while will remember that I have known each time I was pregnant. The pullings and tuggings in my abdomen were utterly diagnostic. So I've been waiting for those tuggings, and a couple of times I've thought maybe, but in general my abdomen is just starting to feel heavy and full, as it does before a period.

Today is roughly 10dpo.I know it's early, but Pob and I are about to fly off on our travels, so I peed on another stick. And after three minutes it stared back at me. Snowy white. Although it's early, when I was pregnant with Pob I got such a strong positive on day 13 that I'm pretty sure I would have at least seen a whisper of a line on day 10. So the whiteness combined with the lack of clear symptoms means I'm 99% sure it's over.

I'm not really surprised, but I am ridiculously disappointed. I saw this cycle as another potential for a miracle baby, one conceived despite my endo and my age. I felt that if we got pregnant now, it would mean that infertility no longer had any hold on us (although I was also prepared for the terror of wondering if I'd miscarry again). Now that we've failed this cycle, I somehow feel we're right back in the middle of the drama, the waiting and longing and losing and all that sadness. That we're in for a year of not succeeding before we decide Pob isn't destined for a sibling.

Believe me, I know this is ridiculous. That I was ridiculous to hope, and that it's ridiculous to have lost all hope because it didn't work. But that's just where I am. It's an hour before we have to leave for the airport. We're packed, Pob is napping and I'm a bit sad.

The last time

On Sunday night, Pob's seven month birthday, we had our last breastfeed. I talked to her gently as she sucked away, and told her it was the last time. It was a lovely feed. I put her into bed after her story and her song, and came downstairs for dinner. H and I shared half a bottle of wine. It felt ok.

On Monday night I gave her her bottle. Throughout she kept diving for my boob, and whining. She drank the bottle ok, however, so I kept going with the routine, telling her the 'hippos go beserk' story and singing to her once she was in her swaddle in the cot. Then, as usual, I gave her her dummy and left the room. And she started crying. So I went back in, told her everything was ok, and left the room. And then she started crying again. Lather, rinse, repeat for 45 minutes before she eventually settled. I figured it was a bit of mourning for the boob, although I was surprised as she hadn't seemed to mind any of the previous feeds stopping.

On Tuesday we went through our usual routine. And this time it took 20 minutes to settle her. Better than last night, I thought. We're on the way up.

On Wednesday it took 30 minutes.

Tonight it took 1 hour 20 minutes, and she only settled in the end after H rocked her to sleep in the glider.

I dunno what to do. I don't want to go back to breastfeeding (oh I do I do, but I want to give my body some recovery time, not to mention the chance to get pregnant again), and let's face it, I'm sure there's not much milk in there for her right now. I don't want to have an unhappy baby, either. And I'm drawing a veil over the night time sleeping (ok, since you ask, last night I gave her a dream feed at 2230, then she woke at 215, settled on her own, 235, needed attention, 415, needed settling, 445, needed the dummy, 6am, was awake and didn't go back to sleep, although she was ok being entertained by her mobile for 20 minutes or so while I tried to pretend I was still sleeping). I'm worried that taking her away on Sunday is going to make it all worse, and worried about my mother looking after her all day - it turns out this training course I'm running is a very full agenda so I'm not sure I'll even be able to settle her each night.

Other than sleep things are wonderful. She naps beautifully during the day. She's really enjoying her solid food, and has become quite the roly poly baby. She tries to charm everyone she meets. She's gorgeous.

I just wish she'd sleep at night.

Back again

BT still sucks. Took several days longer than even a basic new connection to get our broadband reestablished. Despite the fact they all admitted it was their fault we got cut off in the first place. And we had to move the router to get the connection to work. So now it's under Pob's high chair which is not really ideal. But apparently the fact that the line in the study is not of sufficient quality for the router to be connected there is not their fault, either. I still want to kill someone as some kind of revenge for the hours I spent on the phone to them, the misery of talking to 17 different people, none of whom ever seemed to be able to access the records of our previous conversations, the people who made me cry...anyway, it was all rubbish and it's not over yet, but at least we're back on line. I hadn't consciously articulated the extent to which I depend on the internet(s) to keep me sane, to help me live my life.

Life is pretty hectic. We hired a nanny, neither of the two I wrote about before. She starts on 12 May. I'm going back to work 4 days a week (or 80%) on 19 May. Until then I'm working the equivalent of one day a week which is really cutting into my Pob time. We don't have any childcare set up but H is around some of the time, my mum has done some, and I've arranged telcos for when Pob is napping. I've been cooking all Pob's food, which takes quite a bit of time. Pob still isn't sleeping very well. I'm preparing to take Pob away for 2 weeks.The first to run a training course, my mum is coming to look after Pob so that I can work during the day. The second week Po and I will join H in Italy for a holiday. The amount of stuff I seem to need to take for her is quite extraordinary, I'm just glad mum doesn't think she needs to take much for herself. The trip is necessitating the purchase of a readily foldable stroller to get through customs. I really want a Bugaboo Bee, which is supposed to be foldable with one hand, but H and I tried it yesterday and it really isn't. The Maclaren techno is, but it's hideous, and doesn't look nearly as comfortable for Pob. But I should stop being such a fashion victim and just buy the Maclaren, yes?

I stopped pumping. I dropped the daytime pumps a few weeks ago, while we had visitors here from the US. After we stopped feeding Pob at 2230, I kept pumping at that time, partly in case we went back to doing that feed, partly to build a freezer stash for when I stopped breast feeding, so she could have breast milk for a bit longer. For the first few nights I got loads at this pump (for me) - around six or seven ounces (180-210ml). Then it started dropping, down to around 100mls. And looking thinner. It started to feel less important that I keep going. Last Saturday night was my last pump. Medela are coming to collect my Symphony on Tuesday. Today I threw away some of my more abused pumping equipment. Tomorrow I'm packing away the steriliser we kept in our bedroom for night time cleaning.

I don't miss the pumping (hahahaha) but I am finding it hard, and sad, to stop breast feeding. As expected, once I got down to two feeds a day, which is what I'm on now, my supply dropped fairly precipitously. Pob is still getting what she needs in the morning, as she has her porridge straight afterwards, but in the evening she has a bottle afterward the breast feed, and the amount she takes from the bottle has been steadily increasing over the last few days. I think in a week's time we'll be done with breast feeding. On the one hand, Yay us for keeping it up for so long after all the early misery, on the other hand, boo hoo for the loss of that physical relationship. I have too much to say on this to keep it to one paragraph, I'll try to write it another time.

In stopping pumping I've lost a couple of my opportunities to blog and comment. I no longer sit in bed in the middle of the night, with my lovely mac to keep me company, bottles attached to my boobs. I do miss that time, a bit. Well, I do and I don't. I wish I had not had to pump. I'm glad I did pump. I'm glad I had the internets to keep me going while I did. I miss the time I had to myself when I pumped while Pob and H slept. It was good and it was bad. It was.

BT - apparently lying to customers is just fine

Yes, as described in the title. Despite being promised twice that our broadband would be on within 24 hours, we still have no connection. When I call to ask why, their colleagues tell me they just lied to get me off the phone. And they say that with no sense of shame. I don't get it.

So sorry for no comments, neither wordpress nor blogger will let me comment from the blackberry. And Pob isn't about to let me sit in starbucks and blog, she's just allowed me to do a few work emails and that's it. Roll on next Monday, when it really may be switched on. Except that next Monday is the first day of the third week before I return to work. That is not exciting.