The Very Beginning

Ahhh my very own blog. A fairly scary prospect, putting my thoughts, fears, hopes and dreams out into the midst of the interweb for any old person to read. But also very exciting, controlling my own space, getting some of the things that burn a hole in my brain out, and by putting them into words, hopefully understanding myself and others more. 


But make no mistake, this isn't some random, thoughts-plucked-out-of-the-air, "what has annoyed me today?" type blog. My poor other half has to cope with all of that. No - this is very specific, on a topic I can't discuss with many people:

Infertility.


Not the sort (touch wood) where I have been told I can never have children. That would be a very different blog. I am not at that point. There is hope for me but fertility is not one of my strong points. 


When I first got my period at age 11, it was the worst moment of my life. I suddenly felt very alone, not knowing anyone else in my peer group who had, and felt marginally disgusted by my body doing this vile thing. This disgust and horror continued for a few years, not helped by very heavy periods, horrendous cramps and feeling I had lost control of myself.

It wasn't until I was 15 that I began to suspect something was wrong. Where other friends were by now used to their monthly visitor, I was still wary, and I realised it was because it wasn't happening monthly. Two might happen consecutively then nothing for three months, nothing for six months. My GP batted away my concerns like a predictable bowl - it was nothing worth worrying about until I was ready to conceive and would likely be resolved by going on the pill.


Mostly I was relieved that it was nothing "serious" but underneath a tiny pair of teeth started to gently bite something is wrong, a gnawing that would grow over the years.


Simultaneously I started to dream about the future, as teenagers are occasionally known to do, and in my blissful ignorance I would tell anyone who cared to listen how I hoped to have 8 children, a nice big family where something was always going on. Having come from a small and somewhat cold family myself this seemed the perfect aspiration. And of course you are flippant at that age. Children were something for the future, sure, but what really mattered was education and a good job and prospects. Children were the easy option for those who failed, a natural, biological process as old as time (and a little bit older). How little I knew.


And so we spring forward to now. I am approaching 28 and have never been pregnant. I have been trying to achieve this magical, elusive state since March 2009 with my lovely Bubble (since February 2007 with a previous partner). I have poly-cystic ovary syndrome. I am about to start fertility treatment.


The end of the post, but this is only the beginning...