this is a) deep, or b) bullshit

LH surge on Monday, August 17, insemination that morning and on Saturday the 15th, the latter being a COMPLETE waste of time because I would have ovulated on Wednesday the 19th.

So Saturday's didn't count for shit, and there should have been a third insemination on the Tuesday but the nurse in charge was all "she's had her two inseminations..." when I went asked "What, no follow up tomorrow? But we ALWAYS do one the day AFTER that surge.", which is HOW IT'S MEANT TO GO, and how MY SPECIALIST says it should go.

But I'm probably get pregnant this month anyway, because I've been doing everything wrong too, because fuckit, you know?

Progesterone was 47 on Wednesday, which is a good number, just like all the other months have been. Huzzah, bla *yawn*.

If I'm NOT pregnant (which, yeah), then we're going in with a camera to check for scar tissue in mah ute Friday week, because my periods have changed A LOT since the D&C last year, and I don't want some doctor say to me in several year's time, "whoa, scar tissue. LOTS of it. No wonder you got pregnant SO EASILY the first two times and then...*crickets*" (because my age has NOTHING to do with it, OBV) when we could find it NOW, if it exists, and DO SOMETHING about it while there's still time.

Because I really HAVE got pregnant easily in the past. Daniel? *Wham*, pregnant, without even trying, and then I beat the odds and fell into the 2% of Women Of A Certain Age who conceive twins on a two embryo transfer.

Which is why this is so hard to give up.

I've given myself until the end of the year, with a grey area from then to the end of February, when I turn *mumblemumblerhymeswithdoortydoor* years old ie When I am Officially Over The Hill.

Anyway.

I'm at the end of fertility, I know that, and the choice to have a baby or not is pretty much out of my grasp.

Even from here, though, I still believe that if you have a dream, even if the odds are absolutely against it, go for it. Do whatever it takes because it IS the journey, it's not JUST the destination that satisfies. And one day the opportunity will be gone and you have the rest of your life to wonder "what if...?".

I'm not a big advice giver becasue seriously, live your life how you see fit, and if I think you're doing it wrong, it's YOUR life, and who says I'm right anyway?

(Well, I do, but whatevs. Live, learn, enjoy the fallout from your exceptionally bad man choices!)

(what?)

But in this instance, take my advice, or I'll smack you around a bit until you see the light because a lifetime is a long, long to time feel regret. Don't let the want for something bigger than yourself float through time until your ability to choose is gone. Don't let that time pass without knowing what you can and what you're willing to do to make it happen. Whatever you choose to do, MAKE it a choice, because to paraphrase the Rolling Stones, even if you never get what you want, you will inevitably get what you need.

from when the internet was new. Ish.

alternate title: Post old shit (with photos!) and call it "A Blog Entry".

On 22/06/2007, at 11:39 AM, aibee* wrote:

Hi Tina It's been ages since we've caught up so here's the latest news:

Daniel is eighteen months old now and has been walking since February. We were at my brother's house and he just stood up and walked across the yard - and that as that. No more crawling.

He's talking a lot too, and has a whole range of sounds that I recognise as words.
"mi" for milk
"mama" for shower (I don't quite get that one either)
"hungy" is hungry
"ow sigh" outside
"bee" is bin
"sid dow" sitdown
"dee" is drink
"wow wee" is wow wee. That one's so cute!
"happy"
he asks for a "cud deh" when he wants a cuddle, and of course, there's "ub" when he wants to be picked up.
"cah" car, "ba" bus, and when a train comes he gets so excited he about has a fit before calling it a "cah" which, yeah....

He understand SO much though, and is constantly amazing me. Things he doesn't understand include the phrases "come here", "don't put your cereal up your nose", and "quit putting my toothbrush in the toilet", but for the most part, you tell him something and he'll go ahead and do it. I'm having trouble using this technique to get the vacuuming done, but with perseverance, I'm sure that one day I'll have my own personal valet. Ahem.

Yes. To continue.

He also put his own nappies in the bin. Now, before you go "eww!", they get wrapped up in a little bag first, so he takes the bag by the handle and trots off to the front door saying" ow sigh, bee!", then we go ow sigh and he hands me the bag while he wanders off and sticks his nose in the lavender bush. Boy loves him some lavender, and he's pretty keen on the rosemary too. He often walks up to the car too, then bangs the door and reaches for the handle before demanding "cah! cah!" because he loves sitting in his car seat and going for a drive.


He stamps his feet when he's happy, and he squeals when he's happy too. Loudly.

I often show him the photos I took of you both when you came here for Daniel's birthday. I point to you and tell him your name and explain who you are to him, and this morning when he saw your photo, he said "tee-ya". Not bad, eh? :) And he calls himself "da-do", sometimes while pointing a chubby little finger into his chest.

As I type this, he's sitting in his high chair next to me pouring his water into his porridge and is making the biggest mess. And squealing. He squeals at such a high pitch that my eardrums hurt. I like it though, because it shows what a happy little boy he is.

Among the several million things he likes to do, including but not limited to stashing plastic crap in the printer, pulling out the contents of my purse, showering, "sidding" down on his personal sofa, reading, pouring his totally watered down porridge onto the floor (eek!), shoving stuff under the fridge, pushing every. Single. Button he can find, he likes to 'talk' on the phone. Unfortunately for my budget, he's sent like, a billion video message around the world.

Here's a few pictures of his gorgeous self.

I hope you're well, and remember, you're always welcome here. :)

love,
aibee* (and Daniel xx)














*not my real name (you all: [shockface] REALLY? [/shockface])

ducks&bread&ducks&bread, etc

Daniel is THERE because we're going to feed the ducks. The DUCKS, y'all, the DUCKS.

Then we got to the pond
(or as the council would have us believe, the "billabong", to which I say "Ha ha. Good one.")
and there were ducks.

Over There.

"DUCK!" Daniel said, and they did.



and Daniel was all "I meant the NOUN, homies, not the VERB."



And the ducks were all "Check out the BACK OF ME".




"Dudes. BREAD!", said Daniel, and the ducks said "The BACK! Of ME!".

Meanwhile, I was daydreaming: "...L'Orange, Crispy Skin, Peking...".




and then ducks kept at it, all "We're WALKIN' AWAY", and Daniel was all "You're WADDLING.", and I was all "And you're FOOD.".

They wouldn't even SWIM.




Memo to the ducks: what the fuck, duck?

So we're heading out to feed the ducks again this morning. We're hoping the little fuckers haven't eaten in a week and will be a little more appreciative of our bread tossing skills today.

And.

That's about it really. Ducks. And bread. A pictorial essay. I don't know how I keep up with it all.

this time, last year

Not just a day in the life