Chelle vs Real Life

When people ask me how I am feeling, I tell them I’m doing good. And I am. I have all the normal signs of early pregnancy: queasiness, tiredness, desire to eat anything in my path. They tell me these are positive signs.

I don’t tell them the other part. That being pregnant after all the fertility treatment is exhilarating and overwhelming and exciting. That it makes me feel so close to Tone that I want to cocoon us in a world of three, where no one can come in and disturb our peace and happiness.

I don’t tell them that I am scared. I am scared that I’m going through all of these physical and emotional highs to be told it’s over on the 25th. I’m scared that everything my body is doing isn’t enough. I’m scared that my bubble is about to burst.

I’ll just keep telling them a third of the truth. The third they want to hear. The middle third is for me. The final third I can suppress.


I already know I’m not pregnant. I don’t need Wednesday’s test to tell me that. Why would I be? Why should this time be any different? I’m impatient, irritable, prepared for Wednesday’s inevitable disappointment. Just get the day here quicker and put me out of this waiting misery.


For those of you who aren’t au fait with the jargon, 2WW is the two week wait after treatment. I have become well versed in the lingo and abbreviations after years of trawling fertility websites and TTC (trying to conceive) forums.

You can be 5 days ‘po’… 3 days ‘pt’… having ‘af’ or ‘ai’. Sometimes I have ‘bms’ with ‘dh’ if my ‘bbt’ is right. There is often talk of ‘dpt’ but I’m still concerned that it might be something to do with double penetration. Who knows!!

This 2WW is going sooooo sloooooowly. We are 8 days in and it feels like day 18, at least! It’s strange how time is such a strange perception. If you are enjoying something, the time goes quickly; if you are waiting for something, the time drags by.

I fluctuate between calmness and impatience, positive and negative, exhaustion and excitement. When put in perspective, it’s just two weeks. But when you are in the middle of it, it’s the weirdest, hardest and longest period ever.

News Night

My life has been rather busy but I’ve felt quite calm, like I’m standing in the very centre of the twister where the wind can’t touch me and everything else is swirling around me. Not in a detached from everything kind of way. Just in a chilled out taking it my stride kind of way.

In other news…
One family member has an issue with another family member. I was invited to the conflict. I declined. My kittens went to the vets for the day and arrived home minus some organs. I worried about them but I needn’t have. They came home stoned and happy. Our bank account is empty. We argued about it, then made up in minutes. There were vaginal probes and semen in a cup. Progress was made and we can now see IVF in the not so distant distance. I fell over the doorstep but didn’t drop my apple pie. I followed that up with a visit to A&E only to be reminded that our town is full of scum.

That’s all from us here at HQ. Tune in next time I have a moment before my pillow beckons and tiredness overcomes me.

Stay Classy San Diego.


When you’ve been in a relationship for a long time, and the relationship is a happy one, there’s contentment. A sense of calm pervades. That calm is full of love, friendship, happiness, solidity, contentment. It’s often taken for granted or just there in the background. That’s not a negative thing. It’s in the background helping everything tick along nicely, supporting the couple amidst their daily life. Always there.

After many years together, that contentment, that happiness can be it. It can be everything you need. You can think that that is the most you can feel for the other person because it IS the most. Without being flamboyant or flaunted, it is the most love you have had for that person.

And then something can happen. Something that catches you off guard. It’s a good something. It takes all the happiness and contentment you have accumulated, all the love, and compounds it. It pushes it all to the forefront of your already full heart. It’s so good it hurts. And what is so good about it is that you already felt the best you could feel in the relationship. Now, it’s even better.

Night Out Nostalgia

When we had a family celebration years ago, when I was a young teenager, maybe younger, I would always want to stay at the party until my grandparents left. My parents would go home, taking my siblings, and I would beg to stay with my grandparents. Part of the reason was that I wouldn’t want to miss out on more dancing and laughing with my auntie and uncle (who I thought were the coolest people in the world), but I knew that if I remained at the party, I would get to go home in a taxi with my grandparents to their house and stay the night.

Now, don’t get me wrong, at that age, I loved the staying out late bit and the taxi ride home, but it was the twenty minutes before bed that were the most fun.

We’d walk in the door and the routine would start. Nana would find me some pyjamas, make me wash my face and change my clothes. She would do the same. Dacs would be in the kitchen, making tea and toast. Once changed, the three of us would sit at the kitchen table and eat and drink our supper. It didn’t matter what time it was or how late. There wasn’t always lots of talking, usually some joking from Dacs and laughing from Nana. But I still remember that contentment I felt then, sitting with them, sharing those moments.

Looking back at it now, I know their relationship wasn’t always perfect (who’s is?), but there was love. In that routine, there was comfort and contentment and happiness. It was a good place to be and to share.

Last night, after a charity black tie event, we got home and slow danced in the living room. The venue hadn’t played any Sinatra and it would have been rude of us not to finish off the night with our tradition. Then we ate bagels and drank tea together before going to bed. It’s a nice family trait to keep going.