That time of the month

Wondering why I don’t upload more photos? Well, I don’t really document that I can’t get pregnant. Plus, what on earth would I take photos of? Ovulation sticks I’ve peed on? Pregnancy tests I’ve also peed on? Doctors’ letters with test results? My calendar where I write down period days and temperature? No, let’s just stick with the baby picture and focus on how cute I was.

Now, from the title of this page, it’s probably easy to guess what I’m going to be writing about. Well done, you’ve guessed it correctly, my period!!!

When you start trying to get pregnant, nothing phases you anymore. Words like “sperm count”, “sperm viscocity”, “ovaries”, “ovulation” and “fallopian tubes” all become part of daily talk. And “period” is no exception.

My period is a huge part of my life at the moment. I think about it constantly. When I’m not on my period, I worry about how many days after my period I should be having sex, when I’m coming up to my period I’m paranoid I’m going to get my period and I’m upset, and finally on the first day of my period, I cry and cry and cry.

This is currently the first day of my period, so due to form I am balling my eyes out. Not sexy.

Plus, my period is so painful I have to take paracetamol regularly on the first day, I go up a size because I bloat like crazy and I’m super sensitive and angry.

What I regularly cry out on the first day of my period, while shaking my fist up at the sky (I’m not that religious but when you’re going through something like this it’s good to be able to blame something):


– “I deserve a child more than these bastards who abuse their children!”


– “I hate anyone who has kids right now”

– “I hate all pregnant women”

– “What’s wrong with me?”

– “Why can’t I do the one thing a women is meant to be able to do?”

All these thoughts go round and round in my head and then the bottle of wine gets opened and the pot of nutella comes out of the cupboard. I grab a glass and a spoon and I wallow.

*sip. “WHYYYYYY?” *sip. “I hate myself. I’m now going to put lots of weight on.” *sip, sip, sip. *sound of glass being refilled. “What have I done to deserve this?” *sip. “I hate myself even more now” *sip, sip, sip. *sound of glass being refilled. “I’m drunk.” *sip. “Let’s write down the first day of the period on the calendar and start counting” *sip, sip, sip. *sound of glass being refilled. Text to my husband: We need to have sex on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday next week”. *sip. *sob.

Great life, isn’t it?


My journey so far (2)

So, a year in, still not pregnant, we had moved into our own 2 bed flat, work was going good, hubby and I were going on nice holidays, but one thing was missing.

I decided to go to the doctor’s to see if there was something wrong.

Luckily, he referred us straight away. I was excited to have an appointment with a specialist and hopefully see if there was anything that we could do.

5 months later, I got an appointment. 5 MONTHS!!!!!! That was a long wait. Clearly many ladies out there are dealing with what I’m dealing with.

Saw an emotionless doctor who is clearly blase about these situations. Got a blood test, got a HyCoSy, hubby did a sperm test.

Apparently, all good.

Apparently, I’m ovulating normally.

Apparently, hubby’s sperm has a decent count.

Apparently, there are no blockages in my tubes.

Apparently there is no evidence of anything that would stop us getting pregnant.


Two years into the process, this is the most frustrating news EVER. If there was something wrong then at least we could fix it!

And don’t fucking say it’s due to stress because I am not fucking stressed, ok?


My journey so far

I’ve been trying to get pregnant for 3 years now. I know it doesn’t seem like that long, but trust me, it’s fucking long. Anyone who says it’s not a long time has clearly not gone through this process. And they should shut it.

Never in a million years did I think that I would ever struggle to get pregnant. Ever.

Both my mum and gran got pregnant super young (20 and 23 respectively) and had to have a shotgun wedding. My mum is 21 on that picture on the main page, and the cute little baby is me.

Clearly, I come from a long line of super fertility, so I thought, when I’m ready, there would be no problems! Why would there be?

Actually, once I started dating, my main thought was: “wear a condom, don’t get pregnant”, “wear a condom, don’t get pregnant”, “wear a condom, don’t get pregnant”. I basically didn’t want to end up like mum and gran and having to get married too soon or dropping out of Uni.

When I started Uni, all I could think of was: “finish your studies, don’t get pregnant”, “finish your studies, don’t get pregnant”, “finish your studies, don’t get pregnant”.

At Uni, I met my amazing hubby (you need an amazing partner if you’re going to get through it all, can’t do it alone!).

I finished my degree and teacher training (yes, I’m a teacher and surrounded by kids every day, that helps soooooo  much) and my first comment to my mum was “I didn’t get pregnant and I’ve now got a degree!” She was proud as she could never achieve what I did (because of me).

Again, I thought, when I am ready, it’s going to happen on it’s own.

After Uni, my main thought was “don’t get pregnant, get career sorted first”, “don’t get pregnant, get career sorted first”, “don’t get pregnant, get career sorted first”.

I then got married and by the age of 28, I had my career sorted. After 4 years, I got a promotion as Head of Department. We were earning a decent amount, we were going on nice holidays, we were going to buy a 2 bed flat and it was time to start trying for a baby.

Again, I thought it would be a matter of months.

A year later, I was like: WTF? my mum and gran got pregnant straight away, why not me? did I leave it too late?

All this time, I was trying not to and now that I wanted to it was not happening.