Phew, done and dusted

... it's been a while since my last post, but I'm pleased to report that the nastiness is mostly over with. Things finally started kicking off last Wednesday, and proceeded with alacrity to a state where even an experienced m/c'er like me felt that a trip to the hospital might be in order. Seriously, the amount of washing that was being generated was untrue, even with the giant knicker-mattresses. It was like being a young girl again coping with your first periods. Sigh. Luckily my good friend Mel was around to give me good warning of when a chagne of wardrobe would be needed, and hubby can always be relied on to stop me from wadering around the shops with a crimson tide in evidence.

So, all done, as my daughter would say. And moving on to try for pg #5, this time with added baby aspirin, you never know, it might work.

We've just spent a lovely week on the IOW with my parents and sister, plus visit from Mel too. We went to the church fete in the village I grew up in and ran into our playschool teacher Mrs Bull. At 30 years old Mel and I are still scared of her, a truly formidable woman!

In two weeks we are heading off for a four day cruise on the Aurora out of Southampton. I am really looking forward to it.

Still waiting...

Yes, still waiting to m/c properly. It's the "life is on hold" of it all that gets me. I couldn't be less pregnant if I tried. I am the complete opposite of pregnant. There is no potential at the moment and nothing I can do about it but wait. I suppose I should be grateful that I "tend" to m/c naturally and fairly painlessly - certainly most women have probably had period pains worse than what I'll get, but it's a small comfort. A bit of drama would at least make me feel more worthy of wallowing in gloom. Things are beginning to happen though, so I must just be patient, and keep a "padwatch" going - soaking more than a pad an hour and it's off to casualty for me - unlikely though!

I do tend to approach life with a "there are lots of people with bigger problems than yours" sort of perspective, and there have been many occasions over the last few weeks when I have realised that this suffering is nothing compared to that which I know about. From the close to home - the death on Sunday morning of our vicar's father, to tragedies such as the Twin Cities bridge, and the ever-enduring agony of the McCann family. I haven't felt able to cry this time, as I have so many wonderful people in my life, not least E and M, and it would seem cheap.

When I'm with my family I am fine, but when I am at work I could curl up sometimes. I know (hope?) this agony is only temporary. Soon we will be able to move on, and we have managed it once. I know that for me, a successful pregnancy cancels out the agony of trying and failing, even though it is necessarily an excruciatingly anxious time. It is not like that for everyone, and I don't believe that my experiences of early miscarriage can compare with some of the awful tragedies that mothers suffer in the pursuit of a baby.

But! There's always some good news, and this week's good news is that my brother-in-law and his girlfiriend are getting married! They have been together longer than E and me, so about time! They are coming down on Thursday and we are going out for a meal to celebrate. What with that, a V1rgin Vie party on Wednesday and another trip to the Island on Friday, things are looking up.

Weddings, Baptisms and other less happy events

Well, in the grand tradition of the (in)fertility blogger (unless you're a really good one like Julie http://www.alittlepregnant.com/ or Julia http://julia.typepad.com/ ) a long silence usually means bad news. Actually that's not strictly true; sometimes it means that you've had the long awaited baby and are using blogging time to catch up on sleep. Anyway, in this case it's the former. The bean measured only 6 weeks or so, and two subsequent blood tests showed falling HCG levels, so all over bar the shouting really. Unfortunately the "shouting" has not yet begun, so I am effectively waiting to miscarry. It will add another dimension of terror to furture pregnancies, as before I could relax as long as there wasn't any bleeding , whereas now I'm 9 or so weeks in with no bleeding, but I know it's all wrong. The waiting is hard to bear, as I like to move on as quickly as possible, and I'm in limbo at the moment. I'm seeing Dr G on Monday, and will be asking him what the options are. I'm not really keen to have a D&C, especially as it's unlikely he'll send any results for testing anyway, but I'm not sure what the alternatives are.

At least I'm not blithely skipping along to the 12 week scan thinking everything is fine, that would have been awful.

In better news, although all rather overshadowed by my own misery. Our friends Jenny and James tied the knot last Saturday, so congratulations Mr and Mrs W.

Also, our good friends had all three of their children baptised last Sunday. We had a lovely barbecue afterwards and the sun even deigned to shine.

This weekend we've had visitors in the form of Michael and Kirsten, who are expecting their first baby. It was lovely and nostalgic re-living all of the excitement of first being pregnant. Little M had a joint birthday party to attend and then today we've been doing odd jobs, punctuated with a bit of a shopping spree and lunch at Pizza Express, mmmm.

Slacker

See, I started all enthusiastic and then "poof" gone! Well, I've been busy, and lazy, getting worked up about work and then going on holiday in a desperate attempt to relax on behalf of... well, more on that later...

Work saw the unholy juxtaposition of a major conference/survey announcement/fight with the market leader over false advertising. The boss actually told me to "unleash hell" in a very Gladiator stylee, but seeing as I'm so genteel, I simply unleashed PC Pro, trustedreviews.com and the channel magazines. Still, I officially provoked "no comment" with my actions, so can't complain.

Then it was off to the merry old Isle of Wight to give my parents some quality granddaughter time. Can I just officially BLESS MY MUM who got up every morning to give M her breakfast, thus leaving E and me to enjoy the unique wonder of a nice lie in. Grandad did sterling work also, and Great Grandnana kept little M entertained and only freaked her out once when setting her hair in green and blue rollers!

While we were down on the IOW we had a visit from a friend who lives in Sydney. It was great to see Helen Melon again and find out that she hasn't changed a bit.

The reason for the vain attempts at relaxation is the continued absence - so far - of a girl's worst friend. Now this would have some ladies whooping with glee and rushing out to buy the latest Bugaboo designer pram. However, in this household, such tidings are greeted with typical Northern gloom and a fatalistic attitude that reckons "things'll get worse before they get better". Such is my pessimism surrounding all things reproductive that two friends who I mentioned it to had to remind themselves to say "congratulations", such was my dour presentation of the news.

This would be pregnancy number 4 you see, which doesn't exactly tally with the one little treasure of a darling who has just woken up for a wail upstairs. The other two were early miscarriages, which mean that I refuse to get excited about anything until at least 10 weeks. Even seeing a hearbeat isn't good enough for me, as we had that with #2 and it still fizzled out.

By this stage with M I'd already had spotting, two blood tests and two ultrasounds, and it worked out fine. With the ones that went wrong, I had no spotting until about 8 weeks, and then it all went wrong. I am in the latter camnp at the moment, so on Thursday morning it's off to Dr G to beg a ride on his lovely ultrasound machine where, if there is anything to see at 7.5 weeks, we should see it. If it measures wrong, we are scr3wed. Ho hum. Unfortunately despite my attempts to stay emotionally detached from it, its pretty hard, and as I said to a friend just after I had M, you don't know how much you wanted a baby until it is taken away from you.

My fabulous friend Liz, who has sufered the joy of 2 m/cs herself, has a great way of looking at it though: If I had had either of the other two babies, little M wouldn't be here (I kept trying to conceive very quickly after the m/cs) and she is the light of my life right now.

Poor little M though, had to have her MMR and PCV injections yesterday. She did cry, but just for a couple of minutes. She seems OK but just has a little red area on one of her arms.

Well I'll update with news post Thursday.

Birthdays and winkies

A great weekend followed by a hectic week. Friday - my birthday - saw a trip to work for a meeting that couldn't wait, and then I spent the afteroon with Mum, Dad and M choosing a new sewing machine. Got a lovely Pfaff model which I tried out making a pair of trousers last night - it sews like a dream.

Friday night Ed and I headed out to Mari e Monti for dinner. It was delicious and we had a lovely surprise as friends had arranged a bottle of wine for us. We went to the new microbrewery after that and drank some very fruity lager. Bumped into a friend who is hoping to ski for the British Paralympic Team - go James go!

Saturday Mum and Dad set off for Sheffield and Ed, me, M and friend Sarah drove down to Brighton for Jen's hen do. We said farewell to Ed and M and joined the hen crew. Lunch at a Morrocan bar was followed by a recording session where Jen laid down the Shoop shoop song and Girls just wanna have fun with us all on backing vocals. What a top idea for a hen do! The evening was spent in the company of the Adonis Cabaret - need I say more. Check out the 23/6/07 pictures on www.adoniscabaret.co.uk

Sunday morning dawned relatively clearheaded for me - I think I had reached my beer limit after Wednesday's excesses. Sarah wasn't feeling so good though!

This week has been manic, with preparations for a seminar and the dreaded ring round to do. Unfortunately there seems to be a rash of holidays at the moment - or maybe I'm just not persuasive enough... the paranoia of the PR bunny... but I've got a couple attending, and a few pre-briefings etc.

Being in house, but not having an agency, does rather mean you have to do everything, from identifying the story, drafting all collateral, setting up briefings, arranging a venue, briefing the spokespeople and occasionally BEING the spokesperson - which I only tend to do over email actually, as I can't think on my feet fast enough! It has its benefits, as I reckon we can react faster than those working through agencies, but 3.5 days per week is not a lot of time each week to do this, plus all the internal comms stuff.

Oh well, holiday week after next. Marvellous.

Hats, hangovers and turning 30

It's funny how free booze seems to turn even the most sensible of us into teenagers. I was invited to Ascot with the boss and a colleague by our esteemed partners at the football club. We were treated to full hospitality and as much champagne as we could put away. Not terribly sensible of me to drink quite so much of it though... The boss is fairly easygoing, and advised my slightly nervous new colleague that the only rules on a corporate social are not to shag anyone you shouldn't, and don't drink so much you throw up. Hmm, I'd say overall a 50% success rate for me then, although I didn't disgrace myself in public, but the joy of having a hangover the same day as the drinking is one I'll be trying not to repeat in a hurry.

Still, my hat was marvellous, and although I didn't win on the geegees, I still had a lovely day. The Queen and her party looked well, and we were sitting near Dennis Wise in our marquee, much to the scorn of our football colleague.

A visit to a friend with a new baby today offered me the opportunity to pass on some of the knowledge I've gleaned in the past 14 months as mother to M. It was amazing to think that just a short time ago I had so much to learn. I was glad to be able help C. out and have a good old cuddle with her little boy.

Mind you, for all my worldly wisdom about newborns, I'm still learning every day when it comes to little M. On Tuesday I learned not to give her the keys to play with and then shut the car door. She promptly hit the central lock button and we coudln' get her to hit the "open" button on the key fob. An hour later with our neighbours searching fruitlessly for the spare keys in our sideboard and E. banging on the door to the nearby fire station to no avail, and there was nothing for it but to call 999. The girls from the nursery (where I'd just picked her up from) did a sterling job trying to keep Millie distracted, but she was rather distressed and couldn't understand why we weren't getting into the car. We did try to call the AA, but they put us in a queue, so 999 it was. They turned up after just a few minutes and it was decided to break the front passenger window. Just as they were about to do it Millie picked up the keys and started playing with them again. Cue all the firemen, nursery girls and us cajoling her to hit the unlock button, but to no avail. Smashed window it was. The little sweetheart was wet through when I get hold of her, but no harm done and she was right as rain in no time. We were very lucky actually, as ten minutes after we got the cars home the biggest thunderstorm I've ever seen/heard struck, and M would have been terrified, and us soaking wet, if we'd been any later.

Birthday tomorrow, although spoiled slightly by having to go into work for a meeting. But apart from that I'm looking forward to a nice day with Mum and Dad and then a meal out with E. in the evening.

Row the boat

A weekend of regattas for us then as we met friends to celebrate a 30th birthday in Marlow. The bad weather just about held off, and our canny friends had had the foresight to nab a picnic spot under a large tree in any case. The most amusing spectacle was observing the boys in blue gleefully confiscating booze from underage lads and pouring it away onto the grass in front of them... ah fond memories of misspent youth! Most people seemed to have had less trouble accessing the fruits of the vine, however, and it looked as though it was only going to get messier as the evening wore on.

We had the opportunity for a bit of vicarious excitement as Ed's cousin, who lives in Bisham, had been to England football captain John Terry's wedding on Friday. We heard all about it and saw the menu cards and order of service - it all sounded very romantic.

Church this morning was enlivened somewhat by the entrance, just before communion, of a rather interesting gentleman,who immediately started kissing a young chap who had come to our church for the first time. On being dissuaded from this, he then made a beeline for poor Marion, who had to endure his close (and I do mean close) attention for the rest of the service. Luckily Marion bore the situation very stoicly and managed to wrest the chalice from the chap's grasp as I was serving it. It's not the first time that we've been joined by some of Reading's less fortunate citizens - a couple of homeless chaps joined for the communion and th tea afterwards a few months ago - but it's always a tricky one. Christian duty means that of course we should welcome all through the doors of the church, and with a congregation as small as ours we need all the support we can get, but I don't think it really extends to allowing people to come in a nd snog us! Anyway, in the end the chap had his cup of tea and talk with the vicar, and then headed off, leaving a rather relieved Marion slightly higher on the ladder to sainthood!!

At lunchtime we took a trip down the Thames on the Caversham Princess to check out our future Thames-side mansion. There was a regatta on here too and we had a good view of the rowers coming down the course.

Got that Sunday feeling now, work again tomorrow. I'll be spending the next couple of weeks trying to garner interest in a major press conference that we are holding on the environment, with a little recreation in the form of a trip to Ascot with the lovely chaps at Reading FC on Wednesday.