7 Quick Takes #28 x FTSF (and some truly awesome news)

— 1 —
Finish the Sentence Friday

This summer I plan to…

The other day my sister TOTALLY caught me out with a joke from a kids channel that Niece and Neff watch.
HER – “Pretend you’re in the jungle and you’re walking along past lovely tropical trees, flowers, butterflies everywhere, listening to the monkeys hooting up above your head, then all of a sudden you come to a swamp. In the middle of the swamp there’s a suspicious looking log. You stand and stare, then move a little closer and you realise the ‘log’ is looking back at you – it’s a crocodile, and suddenly, jaws agape (lined with hundreds of savage teeth) the croc jumps at you – what do you do?”
ME – “I dunno, grab a stick and jam it in between its teeth then run.”
HER – “You sure?”
ME – “Yeah well I’m sure that’d work – the croc would be distracted and would need to get rid of the stick before it could eat me. Why, what should I do?”
HER – “Stop pretending…”

I hope that my actual summer will be filled with work (full time, preferably one of the jobs I’ve already found to apply for, if I get to the next stage) but that’s dull and I don’t want to tell you about that. I’ll be earning, but nothing exciting will be going on.

So lets pretend that this summer, I have a million pounds to spend.

I’m going to buy our flat outright, for starters. I don’t want to move house again because it’s ridiculously stressful and I’ve had enough of that. I want to pay back what’s owed, I don’t want to pay rent each month and I want to know that my family are financially set up ok.

I’m going to go on holiday to Cornwall, which is one of the most beautiful places I know, and I’m going to learn to surf, buy original art pieces in their beautiful galleries and I’m going to learn how to BBQ.

I’m going to tithe some and save some and give some away, because it’s prudent, right and socially responsible to do so – Reece’s Rainbows would definitely get a decent hit, straight into the funds for my two darling girls, Violetta and Gretchen

I’m going to get driving lessons for Husby and pay the ‘through the nose’ rates for him to hold a licence and re-apply every three years, and be insured – just because he’s diabetic, why should he have to pay SO much more? It’s a little ridiculous!

I’d employ a personal trainer to get me fit and ready for fertility treatment (when that happens) and just to plain well feel amazing.

I’m going to go to San Francisco to visit my friends and drive mustangs and eat American Food a la Adam Richmond.

I’d buy these boots by Irregular Choice which I love, but cannot afford (and which are currently unavilable)

Sadly by the time autumn came around, I’d have to stop pretending, but at least I would’ve spent the summer in amazing footwear…

— 2 —

This week has been one hell of a ride.

A week ago we found out that we were infertile, 3 months ahead of Husby’s medical schedule.

I thought that was rock bottom (actually, I didn’t – it felt like rock bottom but I was sure it could get worse if it tried hard enough) and spent a lot of time hidden away moping and crying and trying to avoid life. As the week wore on, things settled into a little bit more perspective and I felt marginally less terrible, to the point where I even felt able to talk about it. And that was good, don’t get me wrong – talking about it and having people around me to sympathise and offer encouragements and advice has been so, SO helpful. And just knowing that people are there. That’s been great.

But no-one could do anything.

Or so I thought.

Husby called his endocrinologist yesterday (his next appointment was only next month, but I suggested that if anything could be done, surely it’d better be sooner than later) and she rang back today.

She has a treatment plan.

The plan should not only give him more energy and build on the medication which has already had some effect in that area, but she’s going to give him new, different meds which will specifically restore his fertility.

And if that doesn’t work, they’re going to stick a tube in him and aspirate the stuff out (hoping it doesn’t come to that – it sounds horrendous).

And we will get at LEAST three months.

So we’re at least back to where we were last Wednesday.

And although (once again) we’ve had the rug totally and utterly pulled out from under our feet and replaced, I am so glad to be back in the game for now!

Hallelujah!

— 3 —

No, I’m gonna give it a whole take just to bask in what #2 might mean.

For anyone who’s never suffered infertility or known anyone who has that problem, it’s big. It’s huge. It shakes the very foundations of your world, hurts to the core of your soul and undermines a large aspect of the whole reason you’re here in the first place.

And we have a reprieve.

Although, I’d like to point out that Husby’s calm ‘I’m not gonna bother getting too upset – it might all change’ attitude is not only annoying in the moment (when I’m freaking out and he’s not) but afterwards, when he was proven right and my expenditure of emotional energy measures somewhere near the top of the Richter scale and he’s still cool, calm and collected. Git.

— 4 —

Thinking of reprieves, I read about Save the Storks organisation today.

It’s a very cool idea – they’ve got a van kitted out with ultrasound equipment and are offering free ultrasounds and pregnancy tests to women who are about to enter whichever abortion clinic the van’s parked outside.

They don’t plead. They don’t condemn. They don’t wave pamphlets.

They offer help. Immediate, no-strings-attached help. And then, if the woman would prefer (having seen her baby in the scan) to discuss a different option than the one she thought was necessary, they call a taxi to take her to a pregnancy clinic run by Get Involved for Life.

Just awesome. And they’re on Facebook.

— 5 —

 On the fitness front (seeing as, in spite of my pipe dreams about employing a personal trainer, I am trying in real life to get fitter) I’m actually rather encouraged by how little there is to go to hit my target. Not my healthy weight target – the one which will render me eligible for infertility treatment (damn you NHS and your unhealthy obsession with BMI).

It’s 13lb away.

I have three months.

I’m already on the 5:2 diet and am doing more exercise.

Should be a cinch.

— 6 —

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand back to #2.

Seriously.

If anyone had told me 8 months ago that in the upcoming year, we’d eagerly try for children only to find that Husby had a really serious endocrine problem; that we were infertile; that we weren’t infertile; that we were going to be infertile (permanently) because of medication; that we were utterly infertile right now and (finally) that the current infertility could be fixed, I probably would’ve passed out from shock and trauma.

THIS is why God doesn’t clue us in as to what’ll happen in future – it’d likely be far too overwhelming.

For now, there is hope and the world has regained its shine, the sky is blue and I can hear birds singing again.

But part of me is poised for the next time the carpet’s ripped out from under us and we tumble back down into a heap.

I’m going to start checking for grey hairs.

— 7 —
I’ll leave you with my favourite song of the week – a rather tongue-in-cheek ditty about a particular class of woman extant in the UK at the moment.

I think the thing which I love most (apart from the awesome melody) is the delicious poetry in the line “The boys like ‘er; she’s all lycra and no class.”

 

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!
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28 thoughts on “7 Quick Takes #28 x FTSF (and some truly awesome news)

  1. Your pretend summer sounds just AWESOME! I really hope you can carry some of those things into effect! (FTSF)

    As for your infertility news I am very sorry about that. I am glad though that there is a treatment plan. A friend of mine had a treatment, too, and her case was almost hopeless. But today she is the mom of two adorable twins. I am praying for you! xo

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  2. oh SHUSH, you! That can't be right!

    Oh okaaaay.

    I'm trying to re-set my thinking about it after another epic late night last night.

    Glad you liked the song 🙂

    And yeah, if I weren't so thrilled that a difference can be made, I'd be writing strongly worded letters. The problem is with the clinic technicians passing information on before the specialists have had a chance to think about it.

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  3. I assume so, and I've told her (in comments) I'm not affiliated with them (or anything to do with them), but unless I figure out a way to email and let her down gently, I'm'a be Reece forever…

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  4. Mercy! If I weren't so happy for you, I'd be spittin' mad at doctors. This couldn't have been figured out before? I'm praying for you!
    Good luck with those last 13 pounds. I hear GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP helps with weight loss, too. 🙂
    That song is hilarious! I can always count on you to find off the wall, fun music.

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  5. I love your summer dreams! Live as much of them as you can! We had fertility issues too, it was hard to hear. But our struggles ended with the miracle of adoption and I couldn't be happier!

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  6. I am sorry that you've had to hear the news….I completely understand because I'm in that place too. Hugs.

    On a more positive note though, I'm so glad that you've managed to set up some really great goals there!

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  7. The Pretending story was pretty funny, since it was played on someone other than me. 🙂
    Glad to hear about the fertility meds. You're right – it does shake you to your core. It's the key to being human, and when someone tells you that you can't do it, well, you know.

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  8. Yeah it's ridiculous. The insurance is sky high and they have to re-apply (and pay for) a new licence every three years. I think it's less severe for epilepsy! And there's no individual stuff, so even if your control is really good (Husby's is) they err on the side of extreme caution.

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  9. That made me chuckle 🙂

    I think it's to do with the duality of being able to be completely swamped by something but also analyse it. And I think somehow words help me to organise my thoughts about it, so blogging it is quite theraputic in a way.

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  10. … it is not so much the roller coaster-ness of the year you describe, as it is your having the… ability/talent/character (whatever is the word I am going for) to stay centered through it all. That totally is what has me sitting back (as Reader following the tale through your blog) and saying 'wow! very impressive'
    And, it is not that responding emotionally to the bad news (or the good news) that is important (in my opinion), rather it is the quality that keeps your core balanced as the world around you does it's best to throw you down on the ground.
    hats off…. Considerer

    (I will say that this talent to endure/survive intact situations that would have most people under their beds refusing to come out is a trait of clark personality type. You do our people proud. lol )

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  11. Thank you – that really helps. One of the things I committed to doing when I first started this medical mess was to be utterly honest about it, because reading other people's experiences and their honesty about these things (miscarriage and infertility in particular) was just so helpful as I was beginning that path. I wanted to be able to 'give something back' as it were, and this was the best way I could think of for now.

    Many thanks for your kind words.

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  12. I shall keep pretending, and perhaps my alter-ego (Reece) will take over if things get too bad. I could make her the life that I wish I had (meantime, if you ever check back, my name's Lizzi, and I'm not sure where the lines got crossed). Take care x

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  13. I've re-told that joke SO many times this week and no-one gets it right (except the ever-literal Husby, who had it first time)

    Thanks for your prayers – I hope so too.

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  14. You have been through the wringer, wow. I just went back and re-read your last week of posts. I am so sorry you have been through all this, but my hat is off to you for writing about it so eloquently. Modern medicine can be a miracle in and of itself. I said this in an earlier comment (which I wrote before I had read the ending, so to speak, and came back to finish this post!) but thanks for so generously sharing your experience. It matters.

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  15. Oh please don't stop pretending and think your pretending sounds quite lovely. I truly wish you the best of luck with finding a full-time job Reece and sending good thoughts your way now!! Thanks as always for linking up with us and have a wonderful weekend!! 🙂

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  16. Love the “stop pretending” regarding the crocodile fantasy. I thought putting a stick in its mouth was quite brilliant, though…
    And congratulations on there being a treatment plan! My thoughts and prayers are with you – hoping that his infertility is remedied post-haste!

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