The 1 where I’m rambling on about IVF…



So I’ve sat looking at the screen whilst eating chocolate for the last 20 mins not sure how to start.

I’ve realised our frozen IVF cycle may be happening next month. I think I’ve been in complete and utter denial. I spent the whole of yesterday writing the complete wrong date in work (on all our banking too) then missed a couple of zeros off some figures which resulted in me wondering how I’d managed to loose 2.5k in a locked room?!?!

It’s been 18 months since we decided to ‘try’ for our second. We pushed IVF back from March to April due to timings and funds. We didn’t want to scrimp on Daniels 2nd birthday to make another baby. My big fear is that I’m taking money away from him to try and make another baby, and nothing is guaranteed. I fear he’ll see me stressed, tired and emotional. And that’s not what I want. If it works and he has a sibling then it’s all worth it. If it doesn’t work….

Everytime we’ve had the conversation and discussion over IVF ive been in tears within 60 seconds. I can’t help it. I was so calm first time around, but this time around isn’t sitting so smoothly with me. I’ve kept thinking “I’m ready” and I’m clearly really not! First time around I threw myself into crafts, and I guess I’m trying to throw myself into this in my spare time? Does that make sense?

We have 4 embryos in storage which is up in July and we know that we would only be transferring 1. We’re just wanting 1 shot as we can’t afford to spend thousands on this. Ideally I’d love to be pregnant and past 12 weeks before I can let our unused embryos go. Extending our storage is £400+ for 1 year so it’s not an ideal option. My husbands job isn’t as secure as we’d like and that’s hassling me more than it should and it’s simply due to IVF costing between £1,400- £1,600.  I can’t  bring myself to donate our embryos to another couple either. It sound horrible I know, but I can’t handle the thought of a baby like my Daniel somewhere else. Donate  eggs? Yes. Embryos? No.

I put so much pressure on myself. I’m sat here feeling uber guilty now as I’ve got a glass of wine and I’ve eaten chocolate instead of a soy latte and a handful of kale. People ask me when we are doing the cycle, and I brush them off but they follow that up with “ahh it will work”. And my husband will tell e to stop beating myself up about it and the circle goes on.

**ive just thrown my chocolate across the room to stop me eating more!**

I think I need a note book to make notes to help me structure my blog a little better as I really do just pour the words straight from my brain with no filter.

Thanks for reading C x




Snuggling my newborn.

When we were TTC I had an idea of the type of Mum I woud be. I would be up with the birds like Cinderella and dressed and ready for the day before baby woke up. My house would be organised and tidy, and I would cook from scratch daily. We would have organised fun, and amazing family days out. Kind of like Monica Gellar from Friends.

Ha. Who was I kidding?

As Daniel was an emergency section it took me a while before I was up on my feet, pottering around. And in that time I snuggled  with my newborn, constantly. Im guilty of that. I struggled to stand from the sofa when holding him for the 1st couple of weeks. So I’d make myself a cup of tea, get the bottle ready, and change his bum, then get comfortable on the sofa or on the bed and feed him. When he fell asleep I’d just sit and watch him. Listening to all of the beautiful noises he’d make and just sniff him, soak him all up. It was amazing. When my husband finished work he’d take over. He’d sit and snuggle him whilst I pottered around and made us tea. It gave us both that essential time with him.

My husband was working crazy shifts at the time. He ran his own business 9-5 for 6 days a week, then would have an evening job 6-2 for 2-3 evenings. Why? Because the business had become quiet. He wanted to ensure there was always money coming in, when deep down he hate hated working for himself and worrying about the bills.

**apologies for blabbering on. Still finding my writing style, thanks for reading**

When Daniel was 3 months old, we made the decision to close down. That was a Sunday. On the Monday the closing down sale began. Now, we had a family and we needed to put that 1st.

So my routine was whatever worked around my family. Daniel was a good sleeper, so I woke when he woke in a morning. For a while this was a 6am wake, and he was napping by 9am. That’s when I would shower. When he napped after lunch that’s when I’d clean or prep tea. He fed through the night until he was 18 months. He’d wake at around 4am for a bottle, then he’d sleep until around 7.30am. Nothing was set in stone. I’d love to say I slept when he did, but I didn’t. I did go to bed early and watch him sleeping in the crib next to me. I was like every other Mum. I was winging it. And I still am.

Hes still a really good sleeper and loves a good 14 hour snooze, going to bed at 8pm. So yes, I sleep when he sleeps now If we have no plans that day. And that’s our issue. We say we’ll be up and out early, and we never are. But hubbys shifts have now changed so I’ve challenged us to become ‘morning people‘. For us to get a good sleep, and be up early so we can have a family breakfast before work. That might sound cliche but if myslef or Craig are only getting 90 mins a day with Daniel around work, it needs to be done.

I watch vlogs on YouTube of other Mums and ‘a day in the life‘ or ‘week in the life‘ routines, and I really do wonder ‘do they manage it everyday even without filming?’ as some of it looks idyllic. I’ll keep watching as it’s my guilty pleasure and Im super nosey,and I’ll pick up tips and tricks where I can. I want to have a good, standard morning routine to set up the day. We can’t pop a routine onto the rest of the day such as meal times as my hours change each week and I can finish work at 3pm, 7pm or 10pm so for now we’ll just wing that bit.

Days 1 & 2 have gone well so far, so I’ll update in the near future.

Thanks for reading, C x

YouTube channels I enjoy watching are;

Jules Furness

Charlotte Taylor

Emily Norris

Mrs Meldrum

If you have any suggestions of videos to watch of blogs to read please let me know.


The 1 where i yap on about our routine (or lack of)…

Our birth story…

imageThis post is a little reflection back on the birth of my son and having a newborn. An open letter shared by another Mum blogger, was honest and hit home. I shared the post on my personal account and its hit home with lots of other Mums I know.

Daniel was a IVF baby. He’s our little miracle who took us 4.5 years. I dreamed of a natural water birth, breast feeding, being a stay at home Mum. That was everything I read in the books and magazines. Why wouldn’t I want that?

That isn’t what we got. Daniel arrived by an emergency ceserean section at 37 weeks (technically 36 weeks as we know exact conception date. But they dated me a week ahead on our scan) after a week of reduced movement episodes. Starting at exactly 36 weeks. An emergency scan was requested after our 1st episode as my bump had shrunk. I’d also had the norovirus just days before and hadn’t eaten a stitch for 4 days. But bump had shrunk by 2.5cm. The scan showed a perfectly healthy, but small baby. They estimated around 5lb. We were exactly 37 weeks when we went in with reduced movements again. I’d only had monitoring that morning and everything was fine. Before they did anything they told me they were inducing me.

Our induction began at 3am on 15th March 2015. I struggled to sleep. As soon as breakfast hit….I was on it. I was thinking about keeping my strength up. They  hooked me up to the monitor and Daniel wasn’t happy, his heart rate was all over the place, so they removed the pessary and put me nil by mouth. They began mumbling C section, and a consultant  was called. I was taken up to the labour ward around 11am and hooked up to a drip and my waters broken. Contractions soon kicked in. Really mild to begin with, similar to the cramps I get each month. I wasn’t allowed off the bed as they were monitoring him closely. It wasn’t what I’d imagined. My bag was full of snacks to give me energy for birth, and drinks to sip on. I wasn’t allowed a single thing. I was pleased I’d had tea and toast for breakfast. I panicked a little that I would get tired not even being allowed to sip on water.

By 5.30pm I was asking for some pain relief like paracetamol. I’d had gas and air all afternoon and I was feeling naff. The midwife offered me something stronger and I remember jumping and asking for an epidural so I could sleep as I was only 1cm dialated. Then things got weird, the midwife went to request an epidural for me, but the contractions were coming thick and fast and I remember thinking “this isn’t how it on on OBEM!” I wasn’t dialated, why was this happening? Then Daniels heart rate dropped. Massively. We buzzed and the midwife came in. All was ok again as he had recovered quickly. She left the room and said to buzz if it happened again.

She cant have even got back to her station when we hit the buzzer again. I remember coming around from my gas and air watching his heart rate drop on the monitor and panicking trying to find my buzzer. I felt like a lifetime. I hit the buzzer and I heard the footsteps of the midwife running to our room followed by a Consultant. They stood and assessed the situation. The Consultant said observe for 30 mins. The midwife glared at her along with my husband. I then remember waking up with an oxygen mask on my face (can only assume I passed out) and they were asking me to scribble my signature on a form, whipping my vest off and throwing scrubs at my husband.

I was whizzed off to theatre for an emergency section.

Daniel was born at 19.12, perfectly healthy and weighing 6lb 4oz. He was perfect.

Craig held him and everything was perfect. The baby we longed for was here safe and well. We were a family.

I didn’t arrive into recovery until shortly after 9pm. I was shaking uncontrollably from the spinal. It made it difficult when I first held him, I couldn’t get him to latch as I couldn’t hold him still. I was wired up. It was impossible. His first feed was formula.

The midwife that evening helped me try and get comfortable with him to feed him. No luck. She provided me with syringes to collect my colostrum. This was a success and I felt useful (after all I was bed bound and needed help getting him from the crib).

The following days they gave me more pointers and advice on feeding him. When I was home I persevered between formula and expressed milk. I tried him at the breast with each feed. I was promised a home visit from a breast feeding group. That never happened. Then when they finally called I was quizzed as to why I was offering formula and not just exclusively breast milk or breast feeding. I felt like I’d done wrong by him. But my instinct was to feed him. How was I doing wrong? Thus the Breastfeeding Mafia being launched (named by my husband lol) .

I tried every feed for 2 weeks and it wasn’t happening  he couldn’t latch. It was exhausting me. I felt guilty. I felt terrible that I couldn’t feed my own son like my sister and my best friend had fed their babies. I beat myself up terribly and I was envious of other mums who could do it.

I got over my guilt and jealousy when he hit the weaning stage. My husband gave me pep talks and told me to stop being silly and stop putting pressure on myself. He told me that every choice I had made as a mother, was the correct choice. The correct choice for our son, and for us. He was thriving, he was cheeky, he was perfect and he was ours. So nobody’s opinion mattered.

And do you know what. He’s not even 2 yet and he’s had a Macdonalds. So nerr!



Why I’m here…

lets go back 7 years. Febuary 14th. My period was due. We had been trying for a baby for 1 whole month. It felt like forever, but it was so exciting. We had moved into our own home in the December and decided…..lets do it. There is never a ‘perfect’ time.

Little did I know, it would take us 4.5 years to fall pregnant. I would undergo 1 HyCosy to check my tubes were clear, 1 laparoscopy to diagnose Endometriosis, 1 minor surgery to drain a cyst the size of an orange, 8 rounds of Clomid, 3 IUI cycles, countless scans and injections, blood tests, and finally embark upon IVF in 2014.

Over our time TTC I was part of a forum It was a place where I could vent, help, discuss and debate. I made some lovely friends, and I felt someone always had my back. When I fell pregnant I moved onto a different section of the forum. I missed my LTTTC buddies, I was in a group with a mix of people. People who had fallen pregnant so easily, some who were on their 2nd & 3rd children, I felt out of place. I felt like a veteran! When my son was born I took myself away from the forum. I didn’t have the time to reply. I was in my own happy bubble and I didn’t want to step out of it.

Now im 19 months into trying for our 2nd child and approaching a frozen IVF cycle and I’m feeling like I need to talk. I need to write my thoughts down and just natter on. It helps.

Ive also been following some Mummy bloggers and vloggers, and they have inspired me. So here I am. I want to reflect on our time TTC, because as hard as it was. I wouldn’t change it for the world. It made us who we are. C x