First, an apology
I signed up to ICLW for the first time this month. I had the best intentions but H and I have been away for the last 2 days and I haven’t commented at all during that time. I didn’t even log in! However I did manage to make my quota on the other days, and I ‘met’ some nice new bloggers, so I’m really pleased I took part.
Second, I thought I’d give you a quick run down on our little holiday
H had to work Christmas this year but when we found out that we were both off work for the following three days we decided to make the most of such a rare occurrence and head out of the city for some R&R. I was able to find a B&B with a vacancy in a seaside town we have previously visited on a day trip. The town Sorrento is located on a peninsula so we were literally surrounded by beaches.
The B&B was a beautiful quaint cottage from the 1800s and it had been beautifully restored. Check out the photos – particularly the huge bath tub!
It would have been a great place for some serious baby-making but the timing meant we had to find other ways to occupy our time. Not difficult!
On Day One we relaxed, had a beer at the local pub, ate dinner outside in the lovely garden, and fell asleep before the sun went down!
Day Two consisted of a visit to the rough beaches on the eastern side, a coffee with the view of the ocean (well, chai latte for me since I’m avoiding caffeine), and a short walk up to an observation point. Then we headed down the road to the next town where we had been told there was an amazing pub. We found the pub, and sat in the fabulous back garden with a view of the ocean. I read my book and H did the crossword with the help of a beer. The rest of the day consisted of some quality time with my towel and my book at the inner beach followed by dinner at a local restaurant.
I had a little ‘IF moment’ while lying on the beach. There were lots of families on the beach, and there was one particular family nearby with two aborable toddlers. I was watching them play in the sea, and I was struck (as I often am) by how much genuine enjoyment children get out of life. These kids were ecstatically happy splashing in the water while mum and dad looked on. And I so badly wanted to see our kids doing that. I wanted to be like all those other families at the beach. I got a bit teary and H noticed and without having to ask he knew why I was upset. He quickly got me smiling and some time later – stating he’d had too much sun for one day – he took himself off for a walk in town. Later that day when we were back in our room, H presented me with a white box. I opened it to find the most adorable little baby shirt. He’s bought it on his walk so that I had something tangible to remind me that we will have a child.
On Day Three we headed checked out of the B&B at about 10am, and toured around the peninsula for the day. We stopped at a boutique brewery so H could try the beer (are you sensing a theme here?) and then had a picnic lunch before heading back to the city.
The highlights? The croissants at the B&B – as good as any I’ve had in France; and the Pizza at the local restaurant – better than any I’ve ever had in Italy!
Third, a TTC update
I’m thinking about my ovaries. In fact, I think about them quite a lot. I wonder if, after so many months – perhaps years – of sitting dormant, they will know what to do in response to the Clomid. Can old ovaries learn new tricks? Or is it a case of ‘once a dumb ovary, always a dumb ovary’? Hm, I can just picture my lumpy little ovary sitting sullenly in the corner of my pelvis wearing a dunce cap on his lumpy little head. (I’m not sure why I picture my ovaries as male, it seems counter-intuitive. Maybe because I think a well-raised female ovary would have the good manners to ovulate on time, as scheduled).
Today is CD5 and so far my body hasn’t dared to utter the slightest complaint about the 50mg of Clomid I have been consuming every night. Maybe my body hasn’t even noticed. Long may it continue, I say, just as long as I actually ovulate.
In good news, the long and frustrating 8 day wait for CD1 after stopping Provera has actually worked out quite nicely, thank you. It means that my MRI scan is scheduled for CD11, and even if my body turns into an overachiever and I manage to both ovulate and fertilise by CD11, there’s no way in hell that the little blastocyst will have implanted. This means I can get my shot of MRI contrast without fretting about giving birth to a two-headed baby with a voice like Fran Drescher. Thank God, because I really wasn’t looking forward to those nightmares.