a fertility journey

Off-grid living

2012-02-03T10:02:00.000-08:00

Never have R and I lived our lives so in tune with Nature. For years we’ve talked of living more closely with the seasons and with the changing moods of the weather, but so much of modern day life deadens or removes the experience, not least electric light. Now, we’re in a mad dash to get things done before the sun goes down, and as the last streaks of light stain the sky, you’re most likely to find us scurrying around making sure we can locate everything we need for the evening ahead. That’s not to say we need much! Our evenings are mostly spent reading and relaxing, and I now have two teetering towers of books by my bed. Getting into bed is the most productive use of warmth, especially with a hot water bottle. Any excuse to work my way through my favourite novels on a cold winter’s evening! The days are steadily lengthening and I never truly noticed these minute changes on a daily basis before.

These beautiful winter days take the breath away – literally! – but the lack of wind means our electricity supply has been erratic at best. Recently we’ve been lucky if we can run the computer for an hour or so each week. But the incredible tranquillity of a windless day more than makes up for it. Just before I sat down to write this (on what’s left of our laptop battery), I popped outside to see the moon. A few weeks after the magical first full moon of the year, the Wolf Moon, the now waxing moon is glowing with its own halo. The sky is littered with stars, I truly don’t think I’ve ever seen so many in my life. Little dots of light are reflected in the pools left by the retreating tide. I can see brightly lit boats strung along the indigo horizon like a glittering necklace – it seems the fishermen are making use of these calm seas. In the stillness, you can hear the gentle lapping of the waves and occasionally a bird-call from the rockpools.

Finally, the winter snap that everyone’s been talking about! Preceded by all those mild days when confused birds burst into spring chatter and bulbs edged experimentally to the surface of the soil, it’s always a bit surprising to have to root through the coats to find a really warm winter one, and a hat, scarf and gloves to boot. R and I have lived without central heating before so we’re accustomed to wrapping up warm indoors as well as out.

We went away with family for a week in January and stayed in a lovely country house in Somerset, complete with hot water on tap, hot baths and showers, a washing machine, electric light, a dishwasher, a stereo system, DVD players, heating…the list of luxuries was endless! And it was perfect to start the new year basking in the warmth of the family; laughing, eating, talking, walking, reading, relaxing and playing games. There was a big storm whilst we were away and we dreaded what we might find upon our return - the house blown away like Dorothy’s in the Wizard of Oz?! Though the friends who were looking after it had assured us all was well, we hardly dared believe them. When we got home, everything was fine. And the best welcome? The cats, all three of them, fluffy and warm and pleased to see us. What better way to stave off the winter’s chill than with a houseful of pets?

After all the home comforts and mod cons the holiday cottage provided, we wondered if it would be difficult to adjust back to our clifftop lifestyle. But one morning of waking to the pink and orange dawn, with the fiery globe of the sun bowling up merrily on the left, and the moon glowing white on the right, soon reminded us what an incredible blessing every day is here.

2012-01-24T06:51:00.001-08:00

We had our first adoption workshops last week, on Monday and Tuesday. Alongside eight other couples, we learnt about the kind of kids that need adopting, listened to some shocking case studies and found out ways in which we can parent children who have been through more in their short time here than most of us will go through in a lifetime. It was certainly food for thought.

Interestingly, half the couples already had children and two of those had chosen adoption for truly altruistic reasons. The rest of us had tried, and failed, to make biological families and were trying our luck with a different approach. There were some interesting people there - some I know will remain firm friends as our children grow, and some I felt we were singing from different parenting songsheets. My parenting choices and interest has always been in attachment parenting and I have reams of literature on the subject and have written about it for years. It's a whole new thing thinking about the different challenges adopted children face - the level of loss and trauma they have experienced - and how to parent them with love and consciousness through that. Sometimes it feels like it'll be a superhuman achievement and sometimes I think that staying present, staying aware and loving will guide us all along. A social worker said somewhere near the beginning of our process 'choose your battles wisely' and it seems to ring so true. When I imagine the scenarios we might be faced with as parents, I keep thinking of not sweating the small stuff and finding ways for our future kids to express the big stuff.

Both R and I had been slightly dreading the workshops. We'd been told that they would be hard work and harrowing, and whilst they certainly didn't hold back any punches in terms of the realities of these children's lives, both days left us feeling inspired and uplifted. It further cemented that this is something we want to do, even need to do. We've discussed several times what would happen if I got pregnant suddenly now. We'd be overjoyed, yes, but part of me feels we've embarked on this for a reason. Another part of me already feels like I'd be letting down a child whose life we have the opportunity to change. I keep thinking of 'parenting the child who hurts' as they call it, and my heart bursts with love...I feel overwhelmed with how much I want to hold this child who might already be in existance somewhere. It's almost impossible to explain, so I'll leave it at that.

It seems it might all happen much sooner than the doom merchants have lead us to believe (everyone, from co-workers to friends - even if they know nothing about adoption whatsoever - has felt the need to say to us 'well, it'll be a long, hard haul. It'll take ages' when we've told them of our adoption plan). The social worker believes we might go to panel by the summer holidays. This is crazily, almost unbelievably exciting...we might be parents at Christmas.

Yesterday, I learnt that one of my closest friends is pregnant, a complete surprise. I was bowled over when I read her email (she's overseas at the moment), crying tears of joy and shock and delight. She will be the best mother in the world, I genuinely don't know anyone who operates so fully from the heart. I felt almost as if I was pregnant, that's how close we are, and I know we will share the journey together. After I'd emailed her my happy response, I had some time to reflect last night. Will it be strange her going through pregnancy and me going through home study simultaneously? Will I find it difficult to cope emotionally? I'd offered my support and love to her wholeheartedly - and at the time I truly felt I was able to give that - but last night I retreated back into my snail shell a little and wondered about how it might all feel. Well, I guess we will find out! And there's no escaping the reality of it, so I will have to take great care to listen to my heart and allow myself time out if it becomes too much. Noone deserves the joy of parenthood more than my friend does, and there's a joy in the fact that we'll be parenting alongside one another - different situations, but ultimately the same goal, to mother with love and conscience.

Our new house and new plans!

2011-12-19T06:42:00.000-08:00

It's been so long since I wrote a post on here I toyed with not doing it at all. But I was reading my friend's new blog about bringing her adorable new daughter home from hospital and it reminded me how much I got out of writing my own blog. I started a few others over the last year but it was this one that provided an outlet for my feelings on all the ups and downs of the past five years. So I'm back!!

R and I have moved to the most incredible house - we're renting it from a dear friend who has gone travelling for several years and it has always been the house of our dreams... It is perched on the edge of a cliff, miles from anywhere, on an incredible nature reserve with panoramic views of the sea and some of the most famous cliffs in England. Truly an incredible place to wake up every day and we thank our lucky stars. It's not an easy kind of life - we don't have mains electricity so rely on sporadic wind and solar power and hundreds upon hundreds of candles! Which is rather romantic actually. And we don't have mains heating or hot water so we rely on a big old-fashioned coal-powered range and wood burner and freeze the rest of the time! When we wake in the morning, the cold takes your breath away. But then you go through to the kitchen and there's the sea, majestic and vast and too incredible for words. In stormy weather (of which there's been rather a lot lately!) the waves go up and over the house, and thump up against the sea wall, making the foundations of the house shake. It is truly elemental and like nothing I've ever experienced before. We've started working together too, running workshops here and all our guests have been exhilarated to be inside a famous cottage (it's often used as a film location). So the change in our lives has been extraordinary, and unexpected, and fun. We still have our beloved boat and are now renting it out to a lovely guy who is just as charmed as were to live there. But wow, the sense of space after living on a boat! Here we have so much room to spread out. We also have a spare bedroom which leads me on to my next piece of news...

We've - finally - started the adoption process! We attempted to start it last year just as we were moving onto the boat but were dropped like hot potatoes by our local authority when they found out about our new living arrangements. So, when we moved here in August, we got in touch with a new adoption agency and they conducted their first home study. We were nervous about what they would say about the house but they seemed confident we could make it a special place for a child to grow up. It's a slow process -we first got in touch in August and it took them until October to offer us a place on an introductory meeting. Then the first home visit, when we frantically cleaned and put up photos everywhere of us being super aunty and uncle with our nieces and also with our godchildren! After this meeting, they told us we would have to wait until Jan for the next adoption workshops to start and we were despondant and low after that. It took it out of us a bit, all the probing and questioning and the sense that, basically, they were looking for the stuff that was 'wrong' rather than what was right, going through our whole life histories up to this point and pulling apart episodes from tumultuous teen years. But I know we have to be prepared for that as that meeting was only the beginning and the home study will go in much deeper. And, shortly after, we received the initial meeting write-up which we had to check and send back and we were really touched by all the little things the social worker noticed about us as a couple and who we were. Yes, there's some big stuff from our pasts but they did temper it with all the things we have done since then and how close we are etc. We were ridiculously excited to get the report and have been so since then. It really feels like it's happening now and I have this crazy wild idea that I can't shake that somehow 2012 will be our year. Imagining being a parent this time next year, and preparing for Christmas, sends me into frenzies of excitement!

We're well aware that it won't neccessarily be an easy ride - they said to us that they're not just looking for parents, 'but special parents' and there are all the reasons why children need to be adopted - the abuse, neglect, drug problems etc. And then there's the interaction with the birth families and how that might feel, for both us and our child. But nonetheless, I feel like this will be the most wonderful journey and we will relish being parents so much after the ups and downs to get here - what an incredible blessing it will be when we finally get to bring our child home! My best friend is adopted and she sent me the most wonderful email from Africa, where she works running a children's hostel. This is a little bit of it that made my heart feel full:

'Even though that might seem very scary for you, I also know that you and R convey a strength that I don't think I see in anyone but my parents. Your relationship is built on an energy that reaches out to all around you. I'm in awe of the life you have made for yourselves, it's so intoxicating and full of happiness and health, in more ways that one. I don't just mean 'health' in its most obvious form, but god the laughter and the knowing-ness that you guys know whatever happens things will work out well. That's also health, a healthy approach to life. Your extended family too, will be a huge contribution to the whole decision and process. I love the connection you all have, and others see this too, just show them a few family videos! They will support this whole process and what joy it will bring everyone! I don't remember myself but I'm often told of what a joyous time it was when I suddenly arrived, so wanted, for all around my family it was apparently a time of huge happiness. You deserve this, and you'll make the most wonderful mum! O my gosh! Can I have some of that please! Your entire approach to life will rub off on those little souls, as it does to all around you, and they will bathe in that like happy little growing pockets of joy.'

On that beautiful note from a dear and special friend (thank you, D!) I'll end this post. I hope you're all doing well whatever is happening in your respective lives. I think I'll catch up on some of your blogs now! I'll keep you updated as we go along...watch this space!

The magic of Family Constellations

2011-02-18T06:17:00.000-08:00

So we're officially here and still alive! We've not fallen into the sea...yet. Happy new year one and all! I just wanted to write a quick post on the back of the most amazing weekend R and I shared. A year or so ago one of my clients went on a Healing the Ancestors shamanic course and, knowing mine and R's long journey to have babies, he discreetly recommended we do it. I forgot all about it until a while ago when on a whim I booked us on the course, balking a little at the cost but hoping it would be helpful.

Well....yowzers...powerful, mind-blowing stuff, my friends! It is based on family constellations (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Family_Constellations), work devised by psychotherapist Bert Hellinger to release and heal family patterns. There were about 23 of us in the group and we opened with some deep shamanic work and chanting so we were in quite powerful states when we began the constellations. Basically, you choose several members of the group to represent members of your family and our incredible healer group facillitator divined what was going on in each 'constellation' and found ways to resolve deep-rooted problems, some which went back many generations. I know I'm doing an awful job describing it and anyone who's done it is probably thinking 'what are you talking about it?!' but I think it is some of the most intense and powerful healing I have witnessed in my life (and hey, I've done a lot of courses, met many people in my line of work and experienced some lovely magic in my time). I can't recommend it highly enough.

R got to meet the spirits of his brother and sisters who were miscarried before he was born. He bent down to honour them and Jill, our magic-weaving facillitator, asked him to say to them 'I honour you as my brother/sister. Just because you died doesn't mean I can't have children.' I was awed by the fact this woman did not know us or our issues and yet had divined that this was the healing that needed doing. Needless to say, we cried buckets and R has been in a state of peace since - as an only child, he has alwasy felt an awful weight of responsibility which has now lifted.

Since the course, we have floated around, been thoughtful and peaceful and grateful. It seems that magic was abroad over that weekend and we must wait and see what happens. There is a sense of deep release.

Perhaps this all sounds a little mad and flakey to some. I know that there was a time when I just wasn't open to healing like this but now I just feel grateful that there are people like Jill willing to work on such a deep level to heal human consciousness and help us find ways to live more beautiful, aware and fulfilled lives. I thought I'd throw it out there anyway in case it resonates with anyone who has family stuff going on that might be affecting their potential to become parents. Happy seeking dear ones!

2010-12-20T14:11:00.000-08:00

Ah, that funny time of year again...Christmas is about kids and we don't have any. Been buying presents for all the god-children - we get them a special book each every year - and thinking about buying them for my own kids one year. Lots of my clients had babies in the last few weeks; the perfect Christmas present. They've been blissed out and exhausted and overwhelmed and joyful and sleepless and tearful. It is still a joy to share it all.

Planning a visit to see my beloved friend in Africa next year. I've been putting it off for so long in case I might be pregnant/breastfeeding etc. but there's a limit to how many years I can postpone a visit just in case! So I am going to book the tickets as a Christmas present to myself, to remind myself that every day is precious and fun and to be enjoyed and explored into each of its corners. This is my life and it is not on hold.

2010-12-15T03:53:00.000-08:00

Today I have a luxurious day off which I have so far spent doing very little - lying in bed with a magazine (crazy, the guilt kicks in and then I think, No! Relax and enjoy!), eating a leisurely breakfast and sitting here chatting with my R. Thinking back to those days at the cottage when R would dash out the door at 6.30am and we wouldn't see each other all day, makes me realise how far we have come in creating a more chilled and connected way of living - it's easy to forget when it becomes 'normal'! We talked so much in those days about finding a way we could be together more and R could stop commuting (and losing his hair from stress and lack of sleep!). And we found it. Though living on a boat was not exactly what I had in mind, it has proved to be a transformative time in which we both, but R in particular, have discovered a lot about what makes us tick. It's been a big year in that sense.

So today, before I go out and do (all - eek!) my Christmas shopping I just wanted to remember how happy it feels to be hanging out here on the boat with R. He is currently fitting a mini woodburner for our next predicted bout of snow so toasty evenings in by the fire here we come!

Winter musings....

2010-12-08T14:55:00.000-08:00

Wow...it's been so long since I posted. So long. Almost feels like a lifetime ago. I don't know why because nothing major has happened but things have been emotionally tumultuous.

Something I (finally) begun learning about was self-care. This has been a whole unfolding journey I am only just beginning to understand, but I started going to a natural nutrition course at the end of the summer which literally blew my mind. It gave me a lot of tools for bringing more light into the body, for nurturing and caring for myself throughout the seasons. It felt empowering.

And then came winter. I struggle with these darker contracted months so much. I can't tell you how lovely the summer months were; it felt like R and I had truly freed ourselves from something. We were blissful - long evenings walking along the seafront and watching the sea's changing moods; lots of social fun and laughter; time together despite busy schedules.

But these winter months bring up a mixed bag of blues and greys and sometimes blacks. In the Chinese five elements school of thought, winter is connected to the lungs and to grief. We found out in September that my mum has MS. She had known for along time but didn't feel ready to tell us until it really became obvious that something was wrong. She has been in denial for a long time. Her mum - my grandmother - had a very severe case of MS and was physically battered by it when she died in 2004. Since she told us, Mum has had two bad falls, breaking bones and shattering self confidence. She is getting around with a stick and starting to feel a little better....but oh, what a lot this brings up. It's like tilling the soil of an abandoned field of sadness. All of us remembering Nanny's illness and hoping this time it will be different. And sometimes I think I just can't reach in to Mum because this fear is hers alone...to lie with in the dawn hours. I think the cruellest thing about disease is how lonely it is. She is, as ever, keeping upbeat and positive in her warm sweet way. Nothing unfolds like you thought it would when you imagined your adulthood.

Work has been busier than ever. It has literally suddenly taken off - I was chuckling at my summer posts planning long days that R and I hung out together in our new boat life. I have been working long hours, late into the evening and coming back tired and crabby. R has been his beautiful, supportive self: cooking me nourishing meals, rubbing my feet, making me hot water bottles. I love him so much and sometimes I just forget it because I'm nagging him about where he stores his shoes or the fact he's left his towel on the bed etc. It has recently become clear to me that I tend to forget to look at what is beautiful in each moment - it gets lost in the cotton wool of life. In these crazy months of weird imbalance, his small kindnesses keep me stable. His love is a precious thing.

We are blessed to have a new little beacon of light in our lives - our new dog B (I accidentally wrote 'god' which isn't actually so far off the mark when it comes to worship!). She literally come into our lives and radiated her love into every corner (and after G's death, she had some big pawprints to fill...). Such a loving, exuberant little being - everyone here at the marina adores her. Having a puppy of course narrows down your options in some ways - no more popping out for an impromptu meal/cinema etc. - but in others just opens them up. Taking a long seaside stroll each morning does wonders to clear the mind and remind me to live in the now. Watching apricot strips of dawn sun streak experimentally across the icy clouds this morning was magic for the soul. We're also lucky that everyone seems to love B, our friends and family are only too happy to let her jump on their sofas just for a bit of that B blissed out companionship! It's cosy on the boat with her and Captain Cat but we muddle through. I've always loved a space filled with animals and think it is always warmer and good for the heart!

Writing this post made me reflect on the name of my blog - A Fertility Journey. Somehow, in the stress, overwhelm and emotional wobbly-ness of the last few months, trying to get pregnant has been the furthest thing from my mind. That's not to say it would not be the most incredible (unbelievable?! Gotta work with that deeply held idea) thing to happen ever, just that we haven't been making the time to love and connect with each other and so I think it's probably a good thing that we haven't conceived in this cold little chip of a time. I want our baby to feel the bliss from within our two bodies when he or she is conceived. We have both been tired and crabby and because my work is about looking after others all day, I really feel the need for my marriage, friendships and family relationships to be very nourishing and feel disillusioned when there is discord.

The funny thing is - I have created this reality for myself. I have chosen to spend my days rushing around, meeting the needs of others and feeling disconnected as a result. Writing this and writing in my journal has been the impetus I need to get back in touch with the light within, to stop expecting so much of myself and to make space to nurture. To be quiet and watch the sea. To light a candle and stare at the flame. To listen to the birds. To have a lovely long lie-in. Watch this space....

Alive

2010-07-30T13:22:00.000-07:00

I am alive in this moment, right here, right now. The rain is pattering on the wooden roof on the boat, it's cosy within with our new solar lighting (clever hubby is already spending his work-free days wisely!!). There are seabirds calling as they come in to roost on nearby rooftops. Our kitty, back from the brink of imagined impending doom by some overzealous vets, is eating chicken in our galley kitchen. He's fine and happy, loving his cuddles as ever. We went out to sea today for a crazy wild sail in a friend's boat - the sense of thrill and adrenalin is still within when I remember the boat ripping through the waves tilted on its side. Shit, I was scared!!! But I was also excited and felt completely, fully alive and alert. I felt/feel in awe of the vastness of the oceans, of their changing moods and colours, their drama and danger. How a beautiful calm blue sea can turn into a frenzied grey whirlpool in moments...

Sometimes, like just now, when I lie on my bed in the boat, I imagine all the creatures beneath me, right down to the murky depths. The sea pulsing her sweet rhythms on the underside of our boat, the fish moving as one beneath the hull.

I have been having a beautiful and weirdly wonderful connection with all the babies I've seen in the last few days. When I pass them in pushchairs and prams in the shops, we stare at one another for what feels like ages, their eyes following mine as we go our separate ways. I say weird simply because I thought a baby's range of vision didn't extend that far... But it feels special, sacred, as if they can sense something or know something I have lost a connection to. These wise souls just arrived, they know it all.

good conversation

2010-07-20T07:17:00.000-07:00

Two interesting conversations I had yesterday and today:

1). Yesterday, I saw a client who I have known and treated for nearly five years and who has now become a good friend as we both write. I started seeing her towards the end of her TTC journey four years ago when I didn't really understand (I also wrote an article on holistic health for fertility around this time that still makes me cringe!! - as with all things, you kinda have to experience it to get it!) but tried to treat her with love and compassion.

I didn't see her again until she was pregnant with her child who is now 2. I saw her yesterday and she is pregnant with her second. Although I don't usually tell clients about our journey, I recently told her because, as I say, we'd transcended some of the therapist/client boundaries by becoming friends anyway! She told me that she had tried EVERYTHING under the sun: acupuncture, nutrition, healing, reflexology (from me - eek!) and, finally, IVF. Eventually she decided to go back to university and study and set up a band. Within six months, she was pregnant (after a night out with a few drinks and unhealthy food!). The same happened with her second though this time they weren't really trying at all as they'd been told it was medically impossible. A birthday party with friends and whoops, along comes number two! True magical miracles. Her story really made me feel good.

2). A lady came up and chatted to me today when I was sat on the deck of the boat. Funnily enough, her friend subscribes to the magazine I edit so we were talking about that and then about her beautiful daughter asleep in her pushchair. She told me that she didn't think her daughter 'would have come along' unless they had moved to a boat and pursued a simpler, far less stressful life. Soon after they sold their house and downsized to a peaceful boat, they conceived. Well, you can imagine that was music to my ears!

Only 4 days until R leaves his job for good and we are together...I picture long cycle rides along the seafront, fish and chips on the beach, time to laugh and talk with one another, picnics in the park...we'll have much less cash but much more bliss. I can't wait.

2010-07-13T08:53:00.000-07:00

Really getting into the Abraham teachings channelled through Esther Hicks - books such as 'The Law of Attraction', 'Ask and it is Given' etc. If this all sounds a little loopy and not really me, it's not a cult or anything. I was hugely skeptical when my friend M got really into their stuff years ago and for a long time I tended to filter stuff out when clients raved about it. Eventually my sister (wise one, always gently pushing me forward on my path) was talking about some of the stuff she'd learnt from them and she bought me one of their books.

I was lying in the park having had a long conversation with a stranger about her not being able to have children. She was 51 and resigned to a childless life so we were talking about adoption and fostering and then we naturally moved on to our beloved pets and how much they mean in our lives. I was playing back all the things we had said to one another, all the ways in which we had affirmed our status in life as childless...our conversation, having sprung from nowhere really, made me very thoughtful. I pulled out the book my sister had given me ('Manifest Your Desires') and turned to the first page I was drawn to. This is what I read:

'If there is something that you desire that you currently do not have, you need only put your attention upon it, and, by the Law of Attraction, it will come to you. However, if there is something that you desire that you currently do not have, and you put your attention upon your current state of not-having-it, then the Law of Attraction will continue to match that not-having-it vibration, so you will continue to not have that which you desire.'

I knew this in my heart of hearts. I think that most of the time I live my truth, I think I fill my mind with positive, hopeful thoughts. I think. But there I was having a conversation with a perfect stranger about my not having children. I think about that far more than I think about a blissful future full of children. I was amazed that this lesson was thrown onto my path at this auspicious moment. I lay in stillness, watching sunlight reflect off the black feathers of a bird, smelling the rich brown earth and thinking 'wow, I am alive! In this moment!'

So I began listening to some of their CDs, I don't want to slavishly follow their stuff, I just love to accumulate more beautiful thoughts, ways of inspiring and uplifting myself and those around me... And it has reminded me to listen to my lovely fertility hypnosis CD which includes visualizing R and I and a baby, and a baby growing in my womb. It feels good to channel my energies into these pursuits rather than on feeling angry/sad/resentful for what hasn't yet manifest. That makes me feel stuck, depressed, heavy, grey.

I am learning to put my intentions out into the Universe and to trust that all will be okay. I needed that reminder to float into my life just now.

2010-07-12T02:08:00.000-07:00

So, I just cancelled my place on a baby massage instructor training course. I thought it would be the ideal thing to compliment my work as a pregnancy massage therapist as I tend to gradually lose touch with my clients after the babies are born. I so enjoy meeting their babies for the first time, holding them when I have come to know them so well in the womb and connected with their phenomenal wise energy. But at the weekend I suddenly just thought about being faced with a whole room of new mums and dads and their little people and realised I could not do it. Yes, business-wise, it'd be great. But emotionally I think it would be a step too far.

Somehow, without realising, we've entered a new phase of waiting to become a family. Moving onto the boat heralded a new chapter and all the immense changes and challenges it threw up meant our attentions were focused elsewhere. We did not chat about fertility so much, my fertility vitamins ran out and I forgot to buy new ones, the acupuncture petered out....

And here is the strangest part; family and friends seem to have accepted our childless status. When my cousin's wife became pregnant, my dad told me without the usual quiet acknowledgment of our own emptiness. Friends on their second and third pregnancies are no longer careful what they say. Hey, I'm not saying I want everyone tiptoeing around me but it seems so odd that it's been completely forgotten. As if R and I had said some time back we didn't want kids or something.

And around us, friends and family become pregnant, give birth, have houses full of toddlers, birthday parties are celebrated, the years keep on ticking by....

I feel strange today because an old client got in touch as she's in her last trimester and wanted to book pregnancy massage up until the due date and I thought 'hang on, when did that happen?!' With those first pregnancies of friends and clients, I was right on hand, massaging, allaying fears, supporting, sharing birth books, cooking nourishing food for new mum, rocking babies etc etc. I would bake cakes and draw pictures to decorate the nurseries and now...well, these days it seems babies pop out of nowhere - I'll bump into a non-pregnant friend and ten minutes later I'll see her again and she'll be 6 months gone. Hmmmm, know this says more about my general reclusiveness than anything else. But today I feel sad and that's just how it is.

goodbye to a dear animal spirit

2010-06-22T13:47:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I last posted but for very good reason. Our dearest beloved friend G the sausage dog passed into the Light at 8.40am on Sunday 13th June. We spent a week prior to that trying to make her life as peaceful and restful as it could be for a dog suffering from heart failure. I went to pick her up from our friend's house (or her 'other mum' as she was the original owner and we 'shared' the dog after she went travelling for several years) on Saturday 5th June and noticed that she was breathless and exhausted. Her other mum felt it would not be long and we nursed her through a long dark night, fearing the worst. After a visit to the vets in the morning, armed with heart drugs and a diagnosis we took her home with a 50/50 chance of survival.

I felt strange prolonging the inevitable - is it fair to fill our wise animals with drugs to prolong their lives if they are suffering? But the extra week it gave us filled our hearts with love and joy. We both took time off work to nurture and care for our little friend, spent time gazing at the clouds and lying in the grass asking the Goddess to protect and care for her. Friends visited and gave her reiki, she was surrounded by crystals donated by our neices who tenderly sang and cared for her, she nibbled on her favourite treats and slowly, slowly we came to realise it was the end of her time with us.

On the last night, she shared the bed with us (as she had done all week, we got minimal sleep!) and I stayed up with her and tried to help her on her Journey. I knew her time was coming, I did not want her to suffer but I also wanted to follow her lead. I pulled an Angel card earlier in the week - Listening - and in those final hours, when my heart filled with doubt and R thought we should call out a vet to put her down, I went on a journey to meet her Higher Self. There she was, on a woodland path, with a sparkle of circular light at the end, and in her endless generosity she was turning back to see that we were okay. I asked her if she needed help and from the look she gave me I knew I was in the presence of a wise, wise spirit and simply to trust with all my heart. We called her other mum in the morning to tell her that it would not be long and she wanted G to come to her beautiful peaceful seaside home to lie in the grass and feel the healing energies all around. She talked about getting a vet to help her 'over the bridge'. I whispered to G 'we're taking you home, my darling' and after R had got up to collect her things, she died. Beside me there on the bed, the light went out in her eyes. Wise wise soul, how blessed we were to be guardians of your sweet, bright spirit and to be recipients of your manifold gifts.

Through G, I came to understand the meaning of Unconditional Love, love given freely from the heart. She was always by our sides; gentle, centring, present. I witnessed awe at the mysteries of existence and came to realise how death is like birth...if we are able to step back and allow, if we let go of our need to control and completely surrender, then almighty Nature knows what to do. I know there will come a time when I am birthing alone, or just with R and my sister by my side, when I will call on the wisdom of those eyes, recall the beauty and truth of complete surrender. As the days become weeks without her here, I have come to know that we were gifted an enlightened spirit who gifted us great love, joy and wisdom.

On Saturday we are gathering with a group of G's favourite human companions to raise a glass, plant a tree, remember happy times and set off Chinese lanterns into the night sky....may she always know peace and light

Ahoy there!

2010-05-28T09:09:00.000-07:00

We're aboard! Officially aboard on our lovely, leaky, problematic but nonetheless adorable houseboat. Perhaps I will somehow get over my technophobia and share some pictures with you... I have started a new blog describing our life aboard http://seashantiesandsausages.blogspot.com which I hope you will visit. I know I am not always the most reliable of bloggers, but what with writing my journal and walking and working and eating and sleeping and loving my most loveable of husbands I kind of run out of time. I hope that time is something we'll have much more of here, without working slavishly to make ends meet.

R is giving up his job on 20th July and will officially be free, free, free! I'm so happy for him, feel that this de-institutionalisation (hey, that's a word and a half) will be what he needs to relax and revive him. And there's nothing quite so lovely as seeing him getting stuck in on deck, using his hands, being creative, not draining away in an office suffocated in a shirt and tie. I have yearned for this freedom for him for so long, want to see him become his true self again. I have taken another job so that we've got a bit of extra cash coming in and he doesn't have to worry financially ('cause it seems to me that's what men like to do).

The social worker didn't get back in touch with me. Perhaps she thought my email about living on a houseboat was mad? Well, her silence gave me pause for thought. Life has thrown up so many synchronisities of late that I'd be burying my head in the sand if I ignored them. Whisperings everywhere I turn, urging me to wait. Wait. Pause for a moment. So, I am going to enjoy the liberation of throwing away the charts and the thermometer and just enjoy a summer of relaxation, watching my lover mend the boat, singing sea shanties, that kinda thing. And we'll see what the future holds. I'm not going to get too hung up on the future just now, I want to be present IN THIS MOMENT and enjoy it. If, by some crazy chance, we did pregnant, I would still like to adopt one day, not least because we've done so much emotional preparation but also because it's always felt like a calling (if that doesn't sound too pompous), one I didn't know was that strong until the last few months.

Did you see the magical magnificent moon last night? She'd been up to all kinds of full moon mischief with things breaking, going missing, exploding (in the case of a boiler at work), blocking (in the case of my sister's drains - not her personal drains, mind) and leaking. What turmoil and havoc at play! And then there she was, casting a bright shimmering pathway across the sea, perfect and still in all her May glory. I made a wish and basked in her beauty.

packing, drumming, chanting...

2010-05-06T15:04:00.000-07:00

The day after our 3rd anniversary...but it's been 10 years since we met so a very special year all round. I still haven't heard back from our social worker after pouring my heart out to her in an email about why we were moving onto a houseboat. I so hope no news is good news. I'm kneeling on my slippers to write this because everything is either in boxes or going to charity (including the computer chair). Massive, massive purge today...my sister helped me let go of a huge amount of stuff, a lot of which we put outside the front of the house. It was gone in record time and it was great to think of it going to new homes where it will be loved and appreciated. This computer is on its way to charity and we've bought a second-hand laptop for our new tiny living space.

An uplifting day though - going to vote this morning made me think of all those women who fought with everything they had that we might have the privilege of choosing who governs our country. How far we have come as women. It gives me pause for thought and it was with gratitude in my heart that I cast my vote today. And yes, I voted Green! I think they stand a very good chance of getting in down here.

I spent a wonderful weekend with family. My sister treated me to a beautiful drumming day with a wise woman I have loved and respected for a long time: http://www.seventhwavemusic.co.uk/ to hear her magical voice. A circle of women drummed and sang, chanted, crafted, cried and laughed together and I came away feeling peaceful and strong. Then my sister, brother and I drove to Wales to spend a few days walking, talking and enjoying each other's fine company. We've found a huge family house with lots of different apartments that we want to buy together so we stayed there and marvelled at the views and the fantasticly sweet energy it exuded. Somehow we've just got to come up with the crazy amount of cash required but I'm sure we'll manifest it somehow - it just feels right.

I came home to find that R had done a massive chunk of the packing so I've been really knuckling down these last few days, making sure that we're free of clutter and full of bright anticipation as we move onward into our future together.

The adventure begins...

2010-04-29T02:30:00.000-07:00

There's so many things I should be doing....but I hate the word 'should'. Sitting here surrounded by boxes on the precipice of our next big adventure. Everything has happened so fast but I am humbled by how committed R is to living his dreams, to following his heart and I am following with my mind wide open. Getting snagged on the emotional stuff though. R found a little houseboat on Gumtree and we have - recklessly and impetuously - bought it with all our savings. When the survey came back depressingly realistic (more problems than I care to mention) we faltered and wondered what in the hell it was we were doing. But somehow, the magic of the sunsets on the water, the dream of living more simply and the pure history of our little 1920s cruising yacht has soothed us, rocked us back into believing. And I do believe! I believe this will be the beginning of something magical. A change is what we need.

We are packing up our beloved cottage, allocating one tiny box of 'stuff' for our new home which is, after all, only 30ft long and incredibly compact. All the furniture and accumulated clutter of our married life must go so I am sorting through things, laughing at memories and lighting paper fires in our woodburner. So freeing to let go of the things we think define us...but terrifying too - who am I if I am not my possessions? My photos, my books, my letters? (Okay, I'll admit it, the aforementioned items are going into my mother-in-law's loft until I can make firm decisions.)

The craziest and most emotionally dangerous decision is re-homing 2 of our beloved cats. Other TTC pet-owners will understand that deep connection we have with our animals, how truly they support our soul and pick us up from our darkest places. When I took our dearest feline friend M to my brother's house to live, I cried as if my heart would break. In those tears was all the frustrations and sadnesses of the last 3 years. I felt wracked with guilt, consumed with grief. The bed felt empty without her purring presence. And finding a home for our littlest cat has proved a journey in itself, fraught with anxiety. Many's the time I've thought 'can I do this?' Am I really the person I thought I was if I can re-home soul individuals who have loved me unconditionally through the turmoil of the last 3 years? M is happy, revelling in the attention of a full house at my brother's. Of course she is happy. This is my shit.

In the midst of the upheaval, we went to India and were seduced by the epic magic of the place; the sacred rituals, the beautiful people, the complete and utter culture shock that left us reeling for days on end. On a dusty 8-hour bus ride I conceived the idea that we might adopt from India, so saddened were we by the abject poverty some children live in. As breath-takingly beautiful children with kohl-painted eyes peeped surreptitiously at us over bus seats, we fantasised about bringing our child back to their homeland, immersing ourselves in the religious culture, taking her to bathe in the great Mother Ganges, learning Hindi....

On return to England, we were overwhelmed with the bureaucracy such an adoption would entail and the cost was far more than we could afford. So, we decided to adopt from home, from here so that our child might be able to have a relationship with their birth family if they chose to. We had always promised ourselves we'd give it 3 years and, like that, 3 years is up. It's not long by many's standards but we knew we couldn't take the uncertainty for much longer and it feels like we will finally get to live our dream of being parents. On Sunday, I suddenly realised my period was 3 days late (after deciding on adoption I gratefully put away the thermometer and the charts....freedom from their depressing tyranny) and urged R to buy a pregnancy test just so we could put that thought quickly from our minds. As he was in the shop and I was waiting in the car, I felt the low dull ache that signifies the beginning of my period, so as I saw him rushing back to the car I knew that dream was over as soon as it had begun (so funny how it happened just then). But it afforded us both brief, private moments of pure, delicious fantasy, imagining the little stick saying 'yes, against all odds and in the 11th hour, you are, indeed, going to grow a baby of your own!' Dreams....

Finally having something to tell all my postnatal and pregnant clients has been an enormous relief and wards off the endless questions of when we are going to start a family (people often erroneously believe that the reason we've delayed it is because I have witnessed what they perceive as the difficulties and struggles of early parenthood - the number of times I have had to feign laughter and change the subject are too numerous to count). I found myself blushing the first time I told a client as I saw her face registering the years I have supported her through both her pregnancies, but it was okay. For me, at least, but I hope it doesn't make people feel too awkward. Still, if people are going to ask blunt questions, finally I can give them blunt answers!

Down on the beach last night, with the glorious white moon's reflection dancing on the waves, I was filled with a sense of awe and wonderment. I had met up with some friends and told them of our plans but I found myself saying 'we've decided to adopt because we can't have children' and those words jarred like jagged glass. My friend T took me gently aside and reminded me that what I affirm becomes my reality. Of course, I know this. I've always tried to avoid saying 'we can't have kids' etc. because I know I'm putting down layers deep in my psyche but there it is, my deep belief, rearing its ugly head. The way T speaks is so wise and slow and gentle - she looked into my eyes and said 'I am going to be stern with you now, listen to what you are affirming,' and she told me again about friends of hers who have miraculously become pregnant from nowhere.... And in my heart I want to believe her, but then again I want to be a mother with my whole being and if adoption is a route to that reality, I wholeheartedly take it.

We are waiting for a call from our social worker. What he/she will make of our new living arrangements is anyone's guess but I'll keep you posted. When the process begins, I want to commit to it and not secretly be trying to conceive in a kind of back-handed manner. So, deep in my heart, I know that a chapter is coming to an end. In every sense as I sit here surrounded by boxes in our marital home. Things are ending, skins are being shed to make way for the new and I feel like an observer, watching it all. The calm abiding witness. Everything seems very dream-like as I pack up our things to go to charity and Freecycle. When I touch down into the real, the rawness of the rollercoaster ride overwhelms me and I can't stop crying. But not bad crying, just releasing, releasing, releasing crying. Letting go....

The adventure begins.....

pseudonym jitters

2010-01-07T10:31:00.000-08:00

And by the way...I decided to change my blogging name from Future Mum to Dream Seeker - I don't want to be a mum at some indeterminate time in the future...I want to affirm it as my reality NOW!! And I am a seeker of dreams in that I spend far FAR too much time lying in.

A spiritual adventure - I can't wait!

2010-01-07T10:22:00.000-08:00

R is taking me to India for my (big) birthday in April - yay, yay and more hoorays than it is possible to fit on a page! I have always always wanted to go (I'm sure I was even thinking about it in the womb)! And he tucked the tickets inside a book on India and it said 'Let's go on a spiritual adventure to the birthplace of tantra. I love you.' Could I love him any more than I do or would I spontaneously combust?! HOOOOOORAY!!!! And it's still snowing!!!! AND he's not going to work tomorrow! And he'll be home very soon!

an ode to cats and dogs...and snow

2010-01-06T03:02:00.000-08:00

It's snowing!! What could be more delicious than our chocolate-box village covered in virgin snow! My clients all cancelled so I went back to bed with a hot water bottle (period pains) and read a book then, ahem, drifted back asleep...oops. I love it when the world grinds to a halt like this; the park is suddenly full of families, mums and dads sledging with their kids, shrieks of delight because everyone has 'permission' to spend a day together. Noone can get anywhere here and there's a real comradeship and evident thrill in it.

A kind of freedom in calling up your boss and saying 'I can't come in today...' Yes, yes, yes!! No need to fake a dodgy throat before dashing out to gambol about in the snow and make snow angels. R and I had a ridiculous amount of fun burying ourselves in snow and videoing our sausage dog leaping about in it when it snowed before Christmas. Unfortunately the party-poopers have been moaning about the poor service of commuter trains when it snows so today they're running them. Altogether now...booooooooo. So R made it into work, although it took him 3.5 hours. Totally utterly pointless when he could be larking about in the snow with ME!! So, judging by news reports etc., snow is officially NO LONGER FUN (as in all the pics in the paper when it first snowed of aforementioned families etc.) but SERIOUSLY INCONVENIENT AND DANGEROUS (see scaremongering Tories trying to tell us we'll all be dead in our beds by the end of the week/'I can't get to work for one day' protests).

Well, well, I'm here to soak up the beautiful perfect silence that descends with a blanket of snow. Was dreaming again about Scotland (despite our deciding we're definitely not moving there now) and being holed-up in some remote house with a roaring fire - I love the wilderness of the Highlands. The utter escapism, the peace and solitude. The magic of hiking in silence for several hours and then coming face to face with a stag. It seems like another reality, transcending realms-especially when the stag meets your gaze for what seems like minutes on end before darting off. I like that a lot about Scotland.

R and I have had a funny week of people being surprised we don't have a TV. 'What do you do in the evenings?' is their plaintive cry...it really freaks people out. Some are anxious that we're missing such cultural milestones as 'The X Factor' and 'Strictly Come Dancing'. This worries them deeply. We usually say that we try and work our way through the book mountains that threaten to swallow up our teeny living space, book mountains which have only increased since Christmas with a vague promise from R that he's going to put up 'another shelf' -where I ask you?! We cook together, eat together, do puzzles together, sometimes play Scrabble together (but he always wins, grrrrr), sometimes watch a film together on the computer (yes, we are in the technological age!) but mostly we sit in front of the fire with our animals.

Which leads me to the point of this rambling post (you can tell it's a day off for me!) which is how great it is to have a menagerie of pets to welcome you home. Each of our three cats is uniquely different with their own quirky mannerisms, things that make us laugh until our sides ache. And as for the sausage dog, well, you can imagine how amusing and lovely she is. Our pets have brought an incredible amount of love into our lives. I simply cannot imagine life without their furry comfort, their beautiful wise feline/canine eyes, their ability to be completely in the moment, to take immense pleasure in just being near me and R. They all bundle into a pile by the fire and sleep with their arms and paws entwined (99% of the photos we take are of these moments!). They have, throughout the years, been an immense source of comfort and kindness. They seek us out when we are sad, our dog in particular comes rushing out if she hears crying and has been known to lick tears away. To R and I, they are our family and we are so blessed that these 4 little souls share our home. As I write, they're all curled up snoozing, blissfully aware that they're the most loved animal companions in the world.

2010-01-03T10:29:00.000-08:00

A very blissful new year celebration this year...

I enjoyed a deeply transformative, beautiful tantric ritual with my R - my god, my Shiva - in which we created a lovely temple in our bedroom with candles and music....

we lazed about then made a delicious (and crazily cheesy) 4 course meal. Which consisted of, um, crudites with home-made dips (one of them cream cheese and roasted red pepper), then a pasta dish with a rich creamy, er, cheesy, sauce and then a cheese course with lovely homemade bread (which had a dusting of, er, cheese on top) followed by - you guessed it - cheesecake! I turned into a total cheesemonster in the kitchen trying to use up all the leftover cheese from Christmas!

Then we lit a fire, did a meditation and wrote our wishes and intentions for the coming year. We read out what we intended to let go of in 2010 and burnt the pieces of paper afterwards. It felt very cleansing and we were totally buzzy and invigorated...

It was a truly magical evening together and we woke on New Year's Day with bright light hearts...
We wish,
We wish,
We wish....

And in the beautiful flow of things, everything is happening perfectly.

Happy 2010 x

Wishing all an abundant 2010

2009-12-31T10:38:00.000-08:00

When I started writing this blog, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted from it. My sister had a blog and I loved reading hers so I thought I’d have a go…it was just an extension of writing a journal (something that has been happening less and less since I had the blog I have to admit!). For a year or so I wrote irregularly on our quest to conceive naturally with as little help as we could. All that time, I had no idea that there were many other women out there writing about their own journeys, their ups and downs, their heartbreaks and joyful miracles. It was (and is) a slow realization that you are all there too. It’s been such a joy discovering other people’s stories. I love reading your words. It’s made me so grateful for the relative ease of our journey so far when I read how brave you beautiful women have been in your quest to hold a baby in your arms and feel completion, peace, boundless love.

It is so humbling to be welcomed into your lives and at times to hear the breaking of a heart.

A few days before Christmas, I found myself with a glass of wine in hand reading through the blogs I’d discovered in the last few months and I felt overwhelmed by the outpouring of feeling in them. I’m sure we’ve all sat at the computer screen and cried and cried for all our sisters in hope – tears of joy and tears of deep grief.

I think that women, in our connection to the Goddess and to the Earth Mother, have a bottomless well of unconditional love, support, kindness, nurturing and arms that enfold. Reading how you all hold each other reminds me that, whilst aspects of our lives are difficult, this beautiful radiance shines through. I think Shell summed this up so beautifully in her post about sisterhood in IVF, now that was a post that really had me crying!

And my gratitude to our menfolk who have to rise to this challenge too - find ways of relating and understanding. We all know the comfort of someone reaching out to encircle us in the darkness of the night. In the presence of R, I am truly blessed - my tantric god whose heart chakra resonates with mine and surrounds me with blissful protection.

Thank you for everything you have shared – I look forward to finding more of you as the year progresses. Wishing you all a 2010 in which dreams come true, in which our beautiful souls manifest in earthly bodies - we are waiting for you with open arms.

Happy New Year!

2009-12-30T03:10:00.000-08:00

What a wonderful festive season it's been. On Sunday 19th Dec my family and I went to my grandparents graves - they are buried in a natural burial ground on the North Downs Way in Surrey. The only grave markers are small trees or bird boxes and the graves are on a secluded woodland - it is the most beautiful place. And we lit candles and put them in the snow where they cast long shadows across the ground. We laid homemade garlands of winter greenery on the graves. We gathered round for warmth (a depleted party of 5 from our usual 11 because of the snow/car problems/illness) and sang as many carols as we could before our toes froze. It was magical; the stillness of the night, owls in the trees, our breath combining in a smoky fog above us and the heartfelt intention to share this Christmas with our beloved grandparents/parents/in-laws as we had done in years past.

On Solstice, we shelved our plans to go to the brilliant and dramatic 'Burning of the Clocks' (www.burningtheclocks.co.uk) and just stayed in (it WAS raining!), snuggled by the woodburner and reflecting on the year.

We had a rowdy, fun and joyful celebration of family at my aunt and uncle's on Christmas day and then at my sister's on Boxing Day. We've been given many lovely, thoughtful gifts (mainly books which have been the source of much fireside pleasure over the last two days!) but the emphasis as always was on time spent with loved ones, laughter, good food, silly games and yes, the usual ridiculous dancing/drum beating/singing madness that seems to descend Boxing Day evening!

I feel so blessed to have family who love me, to retreat into that safe haven and recharge, renew, refresh. I was overcome this year thinking of those who spend Christmas alone or on the streets - I know that I probably won't give my time over Christmas to help run shelters as I value my family time too much so I gave the next best thing - a bit of cash. It seemed to me a kind of madness that we were all running around like rats in the shops pre-Christmas buying landfill-destined, sweatshop-made stuff when the money could buy someone a warm bed/a belly warm with food/company and laughter at Christmas. So we went for locally-made gifts for our nearest and dearest- there is, after all, nothing quite like giving someone something special you've chosen just for them!

One of my favourite pressies is a beautiful ceramic mosaic my creative little neice made for R and I with 'Uncle' and 'Aunt' in coloured tiles - I cried when I opened it. My neices were at their most adorable and delectable at Christmas and their TV-free, home-educated, wild, free, outdoor selves shine through in their desire to give their homemade presents first, before carefully opening their own. They are so interested and satisfied with the most wonderfully innocent presents - in J's case (she's 10) a little patchwork dog she could make herself; essentially a bag of cloth pieces! I've overwhelmed with love for them and their enjoyment of the moment - they are so perfectly, wondrously present in all that they do and being with them it feels like I learn more than being with some Zen master!...

R and I have been cosied up at home the last few days enjoying the delicious decadence of lie-ins, too much chocolate and reading by the fire all day. Love it, love it, love it!
I hope everyone is enjoying their holidays; slowing down, savouring, nurturing, going into restful reflective quiet time...or partying the festive season away!!

In Dreamtime

2009-12-16T02:32:00.000-08:00

The strangest part of this whole rollercoaster ride is how some months my convictions are so strong I interpret every little twitch or tiny cramp in my belly to be a sign, every profound moment in the woods looking at the sunlight through the leaves to be a momentary connection between the realms and spend my time cataloguing the aching boobs, regular toilet trips and slight nausea/tiredness/elation as evidence that this time it really truly is happening.
And then of course, that dreaded moment when the heaviness of my belly gets heavier and I go to the toilet and find out that yes, that's the dream over for this month (mental calculations of birthdays over as well and I can let go of the fact it might be a starsign I don't get on with so well!!). And however many times it happens, years and years of those 'oh...' moments, there are still some months when you just feel CONVINCED!

And so it was with this month. Even R was feeling a strange secret connection and knowledge (we tend to keep them from each other for protection). Both of us were secretly convinced that the acupuncture would be like dah-dah! and magic us a pregnancy instantly! (I desperately wanted this to be the case anyway but particularly because R's mum told us it was all 'goobledegook' and a complete waste of our money, which hit me rather hard and surprised me by how wounded I felt - it somewhat negates my whole line of work if she feels that way. I thought it would be rather brill if we got pregnant straight away so we could be able to say 'yes, there is something in it'. But if she just did a bit of research she'd realise that soon enough.)

I've felt very insular this cycle and a little overwhelmed by the demands of my work - pregnant and new mums needing my support. Rather enjoying my dream time and spending lots of delicious hours in the Land of Nod. Had a wonderful dream last night that we had a little brown-haired baby girl with R's ridiculously long lashes. I was putting into practise a couple of things I'd learnt about just recently including baby-led breastfeeding (where the baby seeks out the breast and latches themselves) and it was all going perfectly and I felt blissed out on hormones then totally low on them but I think that was because I was trying to show my new baby to my family and Reality was crashing the party somewhat and revealing that she didn't yet exist....and then I woke up...

Every time I have one of these lucid dreams of our babylovedeliciousspiritbeing I feel a little closer, that they are communicating with us, getting nearer to us. I dreamt ('nightmared') a week ago about a mother having to give up her daughter for adoption because she couldn't care for her and in this frightened blonde child in my dream, I saw and heard lots of children who need love and tenderness and I wrote in my journal after that maybe that is a future child, however they may come to us....we're all on a journey somewhere and our paths cross in Dreamspace. I wonder how and when they will cross in 'Realtime'?

bruises

2009-11-27T07:16:00.000-08:00

I got knocked off my bike by a taxi crossing my lane on Wednesday. I went flying into the road but luckily have only got a few bumps and bruises and general stiffness - such a blessing. I pushed my bike for a while whilst I was still in shock and then got back on it and carried on to work where I did two massages. When I got home, I think I might have been in shock but I still can't believe how lucky I was not to have anything more serious happen - the car behind had plenty of time to slow down. It's made me count all my lucky stars and there were loads of those in the sky last night - a complete blanket of light pinpricks.

We went to see Lou Rhodes, of Lamb fame, on her acoustic tour on Wednesday evening. Her voice has been the soundtrack to so many big events in my life that I was completely bowled over to hear her live, crying quietly at the back! Why did I not go and see them live this year? My not noticing that the band had reformed and was touring completely baffles me. However, it was a wonderful thing to sit and absorb beautiful music, full of heart and light and soul, sung with love and passion, such a rareity in the music business these days. I closed my eyes and floated away to a dreamy place....one in which everything we wish for comes true...for everyone on this journey...

Fertility Buddha, work your magic!

2009-11-20T07:50:00.000-08:00

Feel inexplicably joyous today after yesterday's glum mood. Went to see a client this morning with her 4 month old son who is absolutely gorgeous - one of those babies you have no problem falling in love with. When I came home there was a little parcel there for me containing a letter (a proper hand-written, long letter - I love em!) and a beautiful little fertility Buddha. An old friend I have got back in touch with (thank you Facebook - probably one of the only times you'll receive gratitude from me!) was given the Buddha by a friend when she had concerns about conceiving and she conceived immediately - she is now waiting for labour to start, a few days over her due date. What a wonderful thing to receive (thank you so much, my lovely, you know who you are!) - it has filled me with a strange and blissful hope.

We were wondering how in the world we were going to afford having the acupuncture and herbs, looking at our meagre savings with heavy hearts, when my mum called this morning and said she would like to help us. So, with her and R's mum's generosity, we are going to commit to three months of acupuncture and herbal medicine to prepare our bodies holistically for this exciting adventure. With the combination of magic needles, herbs and fertility Buddhas, could 2010 be our lucky year? I so hope so....the oak tree we planted as a symbol of our hope 18months ago now is slowly, slowly reaching toward the winter sun....

The TCM lady and needle-magic

2009-11-19T04:26:00.000-08:00

So, the visit to the TCM lady was really interesting. She was hopeful and that made us hopeful. She gave me some acupuncture to help regulate my cycle and said in future I might need to think about having some tests done but not to worry about it too much now. She also explained how all the tests work so this doctor/drug/chemical-phobic girl could get her head around it. Thinking about the medical side of fertility problems just makes me so in awe of brave women and men who go through it - I have always been brought up totally alternative so it's completely mind-boggling and scary for me. I count my blessings that where we live there's so much alternative support available. So I don't know if I have a 'problem', if there are blocked tubes or whathaveyou from the infection in my teens...but I'm just going to keep the faith, keep on trusting that this will all work out and come good in the end.

R had some acupuncture too which was amazing as he has said in the past he's scared of needles, but he was totally chilled. The lovely lady also recommended he eat more MEAT as he lacks protein but you can bet his vegetarian wife won't be cooking that for him (for starters, I haven't got a clue where to begin)! I've always thought R is a sort of classic TCM case, as he has a crazy fast metabolism, and is always boiling hot, loads of energy and very slim. The TCM lady seemed confident she could help with his sperm count. TCM is reknowned for excellent results with male fertility; here's an article though it's not the most comprehensive one it gives an idea: http://website.lineone.net/~julie.neal/articles/male_infertility.htm

We left in high spirits, despite the wild and windy weather outside. It was fun cycling back through the park together in the dark, racing along, feeling like our energies were humming together again, rather than apart as they have been, with work and other engagements. I love R so much, I love his company and all the fun we have together and the incredible connection we have and the sensation of 'coming home' that being with him engenders. The last few nights we have been doing a big jigsaw puzzle together in the evenings - it gets dark so early so we get a fire going in the woodburner, get some good tunes on and get down to some puzzling - bliss!

Started my period straight after the TCM session, 5 days early, but it totally explained the vulnerable feelings. Have mostly felt like curling up with a hot water bottle and a book these last few days and not engaging with the outside world at all but work has picked up...for which I am grateful...really...

wibbly wobbly...here come the tears!

2009-11-17T06:44:00.001-08:00

Yowzers, all over the shop emotionally today...is it because my period is coming? Went out for tea with a friend who has 2 kids and was talking about how they drained all her energy and I felt really fragile - like someone was poking sticks up my nose or something. It reminded me of the huge divide there sometimes is between friends with kids and me (not always, I have some wonderful understanding friends who support me through this particular journey wholeheartedly) reminding me of one friend who almost fell off her chair when I started crying about not getting pregnant and looked at me like I was mad as a bag of badgers.

I felt really wobbly when I went to get my shopping and became convinced a security guard was following me around the shop - paranoid, moi? I hadn't actually done anything wrong but me and authority have never been a happy mix. Anyway, I was itching to get home, to wander through the sun-dappled trees and feel grounded. The outside world feels much too harsh and strange today. I came home and baked bread for a bit of connective creativity.

I told my friend that we were thinking of moving to Scotland; talking about it has made it real. We're completely in limbo land at the moment - R is looking for a job up there but thinking about the 600 mile move is mind-boggling. I seem to have lost sight of why I wanted to move so much in the first place - to start afresh, to connect with nature, to create a new adventure that might inspire a soul to join us. Having niggling doubts that I'm just running from our problems here and taking them all with us...

We're going to see the Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) lady this afternoon and I'm about to saddle up my bike and set off in the rain that has just started. In my insular mood, I feel anxious that she won't understand why I don't have a doctor, haven't had my fertility checked, why I have studiously avoided the medical profession for 10 years now. When I went to see a counsellor about our fertility problems, she was desperate for me to see a doctor (ostensibly because she thought I was loony but she diplomatically avoided saying this outright) and it made me feel really cornered. I know I'm probably just being wobbly, that the TCM lady will be supportive of my alternative choices. I hope this is a catalyst for change.

A knitted cat...

2009-11-15T10:04:00.000-08:00

I just changed the name of my previous post, having reflected on what I wrote... I think I have always tried to see the sunny side, the silver lining in this particular cloud but I confused even myself with what I wrote about our baby-less life being a blessing. Yes, being with my husband is wonderful, beautiful and delicious but our heart-felt wish and intention is to be parents and we hope that will happen for us soon. I think I might mean that each day hopefully takes us closer to that dream.

We just had two of our dear friends and their one year old daughter come for a leisurely Sunday walk through the autumn leaves and a big bowl of veggie chilli by the fire. We adore their little girl M so much and our friends have asked us to be her guardians - what an incredible blessing! We had a wonderful afternoon - they are very much attachment parents so we are totally singing from the same song sheet and sometimes we get really overexcited talking about 'extended' breastfeeding, bed-sharing, child-led weaning, organic food, home-schooling, Steiner schools and all the other joys of truly connecting with the soul children coming in now. It feels pretty lovely to share such important stuff with friends and warms my heart so much. When I am around friends like this, it feels like it won't be long for us. I'm not sure why but my friend winked at me in a way like she thought so too, so the energy just felt warm and happy.

We went to this second-hand warehouse of goodies yesterday managed and run by homeless people - Emmaus - to get some Christmas pressies. We came across this hand-knitted cat in a Robin Hood outfit complete with feathered hat and boots, made by a homeless woman in a cooperative. I fell in love with its quirkiness so bought it (£2.50!!!! Such incredible love and workmanship went into it but Emmaus always sells things so they're affordable for everyone) ostensibly to give to one of our godchildren. In the car on the way home I said to R that I kind of wanted to keep it for our child and he agreed with me. This is the first time we've ever bought something for our future child and felt a bit mad as if we were pinning our hopes on an unknown future but also really blissful somehow. It made me wonder if other TTC couples buy things for their as-yet-to-be-conceived children or does it just feel too dangerously hopeful? Well, we put the cat between us on the bed last night and when I woke in the night it just filled me with warm feelings imagining it being our child's first toy, already spreading a little love out there to a homeless cooperative....

We've given him a name already too! (the cat, but of course we've got a couple of baby names up our sleeves - who hasn't?)

Looking for the silver lining

2009-11-13T06:40:00.001-08:00

One of my clients had a beautiful baby yesterday and sent me a gorgeous photo of the two of them curled up in bed. It is so lovely to get this little window into my clients' blissful experiences and I do feel very blessed to have that bond with them. One of my friends sent me the photo of her 12 week scan which was exciting too. A day of babies - and all them other peoples' - always throws up interesting and challenging emotions for me. I've noticed that recently as we creep towards three years of trying, the intensity of my feelings has lessened and I feel much more at peace with things. But we're only human and sometimes it gets exhausting to listen to a group of friends talking about their second, third or fourth pregnancies or, worse still, complaining and moaning about pregnancy or their babies. I've learnt to be much more careful with myself on this one and just smile and either mentally disengage (basically stop listening!!), change the subject or if it's real grizzling, walk away in the politest way possible! I try to avoid situations where there are big groups of new mums or pregnant women meeting socially whereas I used to walk headlong into them and suffer the heartache.

Most of all, I have learnt to treat every day that I have with R just the two of us as a blessing (it seems to me we have a choice - we can either angst that it's another day without a baby or feel blessed it's a day we get to spend together). Yes, we want to have a baby with all our hearts but we also know that life will change completely when a baby does put in an appearance. So we enjoy our Sunday lie-ins, our leisurely evenings cooking and chatting, our freedom to go out of a night (not that we make use of this freedom much at all - being relatively boring old farts) and the long stretches of time spent relishing each other's company. I think we'll take to the whole parenting thing pretty easily having had lots of training with siblings, neices, godchildren and...pets...and having done loads of reading about attachment parenting and witnessing the incredible benefits in our family circle.

But nonetheless, if the cloud has a silver lining, it's that we got to work all this stuff out beforehand, rather than found out the hard way that we had differences in opinion. Which as far as I can tell, we don't...but I guess we'll have to wait to know for sure!

Out of the darkness comes light!

2009-11-12T05:36:00.001-08:00

Oooo, mulching through the wet autumn leaves this morning got me really excited about the seasons! All the leaves that were bright shades of red, yellow and orange are turning a mushy brown on the woodland floor - creating a rich fertile compost for next year's spring fiesta. The Celts used to celebrate Samhain (or Halloween) as the beginning of the new year, and sunset marked the beginning of a new day. This got me thinking about the darkness coming before the light, rather than the other way around, as we have become accustomed to thinking. Whilst the Earth is in apparent slumber, on dark winter days, new life is burgeoning under the wet soil, ready to burst forth.

Connecting with the Earth's cycles makes me more aware of my own - not just my moon cycle but all the little cycles that go on unheeded. Why is it at particular points I feel like nurturing myself and doing loads of yoga, eating well, getting fresh air and feeling BUZZY? Then there are times I just want to eat heaps and heaps of rubbish food, switch off with a film, laze on the sofa. It's quite fun to start to pick up on triggers and why we do our habitual things. I'd like to say that through observing my own patterns of behaviour I've got far better at not succumbing to a huge bar of chocolate (or 2) but not yet....all in good time.... (anyway, isn't chocolate supposed to be good for you?)

As we surrender to the darker months of the year, I get a bit excited at the prospect of quiet evenings by the fire and feel far less sociable than I do in the summer. I like to think that we're laying the foundations for our own spring fertility by nurturing ourselves with nourishing food and loads of rest in the winter. Fertility goes down in the winter months - definitely a sign that we need our sunshine to make babies! I've been getting my regular dose of sunshine by getting outside whatever the weather, with a less-than-eager dog (who, at 13, increasingly turns her nose up at rainy days!) and turning my face up to the sky!

We are going to see a Chinese medicine practitioner next week. She's skilled in both herbalism and acupuncture and has had good success judging by her testimonials so we'll see what happens... Though I was rather enjoying the process of letting go and trusting that the Universe will provide, I suddenly feel like 'doing' something again, hence booking the TCM lady. Is the quest a mixture of 'doing' and 'being' and not getting too fixed on anything? So far, that seems to have kept our spirits high and ensured we feel spiritually and physically relaxed.

Keep getting snatches of a song stuck in my head over and over; 'bless the day/you came to be/heavenly...' It's a song I've sort of pre-dedicated to our as yet unconceived child so it's lovely that it keeps popping into my head unbidden.

the turning of the leaves and the end of a life

2009-10-28T05:10:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am again...a little older and hopefully a little wiser and still waiting with open arms and an open heart for the beautiful soul we know is out there. We've put our desires out to the Universe and will await the magic... It's been nearly 3 years since we started 'trying' or rather put our intention out there. It's amazing how much you can grow and change in 3 long years!! Although the months whizz by, when I reflect on a passing year, it seems that everything we have been gifted on our paths has helped us grow enormously. I know R so much better than I did when I married him (or met him nearly 10 years ago!) and I know with my whole heart and soul that we want a baby!

We've had a rollercoaster of a month, with R's granny in Scotland being diagnosed with liver cancer, taking to her bed on hearing the news and leaving this life a few weeks later. We went up to see her when she was ill and I was amazed at the power of words or an idea. She was not in any pain, in fact, her symptoms were the same as before she got the diagnosis and included an upset tummy which she had had on and off for a while. It was really the words/idea of 'cancer' that made her turn away and wrap herself in the insular world of her bed. I thought that showed a kind of bravery too, but it seemed that others felt she 'should' have been 'fighting' as she was always such a strong woman - showing, I guess, their own fears of death and letting go. I thought that perhaps if you've always been 'strong', you might relish being vulnerable on your death bed and just allowing things to happen.

I was reminded how death is a rite of passage just like birth and mused to R that midwives used to deliver babies to life and the dying to death as part of their role in communities. This seemed particularly fitting when we were nursing and caring for R's lovely Granny, I watched him hold her, cradle her head and stroke her hair as tenderly as he would a child. There's something so like a newborn about a dying person, and they have the same needs of loving touch, gentleness and an awareness of their transition. I fell in love with R all over again as I saw him take care of his Granny. It reminded me why I chose this beautiful person to have children with. I know that that wonderful nurturing quality, that inherent warmth and gentleness, will be put to good use when he is a father.

We had both so wanted to have a baby whilst Granny was in this life, as she would have loved to be a great-grandmother. I even considered whispering to her that there was baby coming when she was drifting between states but I'm sure she'll know that better than we do now, maybe meeting them on the way in/out! My sister got pregnant shortly after our Grandpa died - I wonder if my neice and Grandpa met...

Granny was cremated on a crisp autumnal day, with golden leaves blowing from the trees like confetti. It was a beautiful service that reminded us of all of how much had happened in the 86 years of her life. I wanted there to be some peace in dying for her, but in the few words she uttered when she was ill, she simply said she was 'sad' or felt 'terrible'. So there was a sense of peace in the stillness of the day, on her release into what I hope proves to be an incredible sense of joy and abundance.

What a beautiful mystery death is though...and what an incredible gift life is! With many of my clients having their babies over the summer, I have been doing lots of home visits and getting to meet the most delicious little people who I knew in the womb when I was massaging their mums. Last night, I got to hold this sweet stargazer of a boy and instantly felt the warmth and connection between us - it is such an honour to connect with the incredible energies of these babies whilst I am treating their mums and then realise how in tune they are when they arrive earthside. Can't wait to hold our own little piece of magic....

2009-06-17T15:37:00.000-07:00

Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, it's been sooooo long! I'd like to be able to start this post by saying we have a bun cooking nicely in the oven....but not yet, dear readers, not yet....
All care, love and tenderness towards myself and my body that had stemmed from reading heaps of fertility literature has gone a little out the window, with bad eating habits and more partying than usual creeping back in. R's third fertility test results came back with the news there has been a slight improvement in his sperm count - up to 5million from 4million (with 20million considered 'normal'; but what's normal, eh?!) though 80% of the poor fellas were still unhealthy and unable to swim....
And yet...and yet...I know that our baby is on its way. Somewhere out there in the ether is our little soul just waiting for the right time. We just need to hold a safe space for when they are ready.

Full of good feelings...

2009-02-24T03:00:00.000-08:00

Have started the new year with a lovely buzzy feeling, a kind of release which became a kind of certainty that everything will be okay! It was a bit of a Eureka moment, when I lay in bed thinking that our baby already exists within us and the Universe, a true existential moment of total clarity. Our baby exists on some level, we exist, everything is fine. And I just completely stopped worrying. Stopped thinking about charting or friends getting pregnant or tests or reading more books. The overriding feeling is one of gratitude because I feel like this soul, wherever they are, has already taught us an amazing amount; about ourselves, each other, our relationship, Love, the Universe, the whole caboodle!! I finally began to understand what the healer I went to see had been trying to convey - that it's happening perfectly, this is all part of the journey.

A great great place to float around in for a while - it has been extending from my heart in long-reaching tentacles of compassion. A friend told me that she thought she might be pregnant (it turned out later to be a false alarm) and no kidding, I felt JOYFUL for her, no conditions, just a state of pleasure for another's happiness. This is what I have yearned to achieve - to be able to move away from the inherently selfish world of fertility when all I can think about is me and R and our baby and feel impatient - WHERE IS IT???!!!! - when others tell me their news.

I think the key has been this incredible trust that this soul has engendered in R and I. This has led to this beautiful, empowering and enlightening sensation of LETTING GO. The relief is enormous. Our baby will come. In their own sweet way.

I found before this Eureka moment I was increasingly stuck in a negative mind-set - 'we can't have children' or 'we've been having problems' or 'there's something wrong with R's sperm'. Where attention goes, energy flows. No wonder we were stuck! Without realising it, we'd almost become addicted to being infertile, confirming our status in every conversation about it. I think a lot of the current help and advice for couples with fertility problems (well, that word says it all really!) is rooted in this place of negativity, from which it becomes increasingly hard to get out of. If your brain is repeatedly told there is something wrong, the message floods your body, you remain stuck. Or in a perpetual state of 'trying', the dreaded word that fills your everyday life, rather than 'achieving', 'realising our dreams', 'letting go'.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying (like a well-meaning but skewed friend said to me a few months ago) 'just relax', because I know how unhelpful that can be when you're stressed and rightly concerned about the information thrown at you from doctors, friends and family. 'Just relax' kind of gets your hackles up! I think we all have to come to whatever source of comfort or release we find through our own paths and that is very much part of the journey to parenthood, particularly if ours is set to be a slightly, or much, longer route than others'.

For me, at the moment, it has been a wonderful sense of trusting the soul who wants to come into life through us. Trusting that they know when they want to arrive and that they will know when we are ready. Even though we feel so ready, we continue to learn new things about each other all the time and our relationship has unfolded and blossomed like an incredible flower since we embarked on this - dare I say it - life-enhancing ride. I know, controversial, calling fertility 'problems' a life-enhancing experience but it seems to me this is truly a time to see the silver lining, count our blessings and prepare ourselves with open hearts for the next stage...

Which in our case is our favourite tantra course in March - I can't wait!

a special meeting

2008-12-16T09:04:00.000-08:00

No pregnancy yet....a very long wait last cycle - 40 days - led us up the garden path a bit, especially when we finally caved and did a pregnancy test which resolutely remained blank in both little boxes despite me weeing all over it. We decided not to do another one, this was on day 36 I think, and just waited. Very gutted to get my period on day 40 but I do think each time it happens it gets easier - or our skins get thicker?! I don't know. What I do know is my cycle is all over the shop and I keep meaning to get acupuncture again to regulate it. I've stopped doing all the charting and temperature testing as I found it so emotionally draining - I know for some people it is a wonderful tool and I think it really empowers women, but I personally found it obsessive and that it got in the way of just having a good ol' love-in with R. I get up at a different time every day so taking my temperature was always erratic at best.

Big events like Christmas used to be 'markers' e.g. 'by this time next year we'll have a baby', or, in the case of holidays; 'I'll probably be about 7 months pregnant by then so I might want to take it easy on the walks' etc. It seems funny that we used to be so convinced that we'd either be pregnant or have a baby every Christmas and this year we haven't even really talked about it at all! I'm beginning to think that if we ever get pregnant it'll be the most surreal and unbelievable experience that I just won't be able to compute at all....

Met the most lovely lady a few weeks ago who had just had twins at the age of 46, having been trying for 20 years. She and her partner had nearly given up all hope when someone at a fertility clinic said 'hang on, one last try' and it worked. I don't know what she had been through over the years or how she achieved the pregnancy but she mentioned egg donation and also many sadnesses along the way. Yet she looked absolutely radiant - exhausted, shell-shocked, bleary-eyed - but completely over the moon, down to earth and back over the moon again. She said she was so surprised and overwhelmed when she woke up in the morning and realised she was a mum! I felt really privelged to spend some time with her and meet the twins, a week old and wrinkly like sweet little walnuts in blankets. What she must have been through - wow, but she kept her hope alive.

fertility plans a-gogo!

2008-11-17T08:18:00.000-08:00

Well, so much to write about as it has been a very long time since I last posted - what better time to get back into it than a wet and windy Monday afternoon?! It has been an eventful few months. R has been doing some incredible soul-searching regarding his relationship with his father and other men in his life. His dad left his mum when he was 11 and R and he met up for weekly 2 hour trips to the football/McDonalds/shopping centres and other soulless (not the football - I think R would be a little hurt if I called this soulless!) pursuits during which they never really got to know each other. Since we married a few years ago, their relationship has slowly been changing, based now on mutual respect and interest. It is very moving to watch them get to know each other after nearly three decades. I bought R a book called 'Manhood' by Steve Biddulp http://www.stevebiddulph.com/manhood.htm about 3 years ago and it was relegated to the bookshelf only partially digested. It sort of fell in to my hands when I was searching our 'library' (ha! I like to pretend it's a meditative reading room with dim lighting and ancient easy chairs and the faint smell of musty books and pipe tabacco, when really it's about 1000 higgeldy piggeldy scaffold board shelves in the living room) the other day and gave it to R to read again. It was the perfect time - as its auspicious twinkling on the bookshelf told me - and R has found it uplifting, inspiring and exciting. He's been talking about doing a 'man course' like The Mankind Project which runs Warrior Training http://www.mkp.org/. I found a course I really liked the look of here http://www.northerndrum.com/home.html - shamanic warrior training! Sounds amazing. It seems to me we are coming ever closer to our goal - and being led in the most exciting and fascinating ways to explore all aspects of ourselves. I'm glad R found something that resonated so strongly for him without me telling him what or how to think. It can sometimes feel that as the women in a partnership, we do a lot of the research and reading around fertility. I have pointed R in the direction of various interesting articles and we have spent many an hour discussing different ideas and theories but nothing has quite touched him like the realisation of a need to access his masculine energy and heal male relationships, going right back to his earliest male role model, his father. At a time when sperm counts are dropping dramatically in the western world, we also lack strong male role models for the generations of men growing up. There are no common initiation ceremonies into manhood as found in many indiginous cultures.

I think it would be REALLY interesting to do a pre- and post- Warrior Training sperm test, to see if all that testosterone and quality, healing 'male time' has an effect. Watch this space!...

For my part, I visited a wonderful healer, Shelley Lemaire http://www.incomingsouls.com/. The bad news is she has literally just jumped on a plane back to her homeland of New Zealand, the good news is that she plans to come back for a few months, maybe more, next summer. Shelley's work is quite unique in that she tunes in with the 'incoming soul'. I had a very restorative initial session with her, letting go of some shame, guilt and sadness in my womb and connecting with the very comforting and healing presence of the two souls I wasn't able to carry in my teens. The second session was opening my womb up to what was quite an incredible and light-filled presence. I was blown away and left feeling full of bliss and light. Shelley felt R's energy when she was working with me (describing us, in words that made my heart soar, as 'soul mates' who have known each other through many lifetimes) and since then, R and I have been consciously focusing our intention on creating a blissful, light space for this angelic being to settle in to. I feel increasingly aware that we have an intensely beautiful being floating about with a sure knowledge of when, how and where they want to be conceived, created and born into the world. Letting go and trusting this is incredibly peaceful.

Into this dreamy mix, I have stirred in the reading of some excellent books and consequent dietary changes. One I have been exploring for a while is the thought-provoking 'The Whole Person Fertility Program - a revolutionary mind-body process to help you conceive' by Niravi B. Payne http://www.niravi.com/. I have to admit I haven't dipped into this one for a while but every time I do I am reminded how important Payne's work is in reminding us of the link between mind and body and how powerful this can be in the quest to conceive. Payne comes across as a wise and gentle elder guiding us lovingly through our past, helping us let go of relationships and thought processes that don't serve us. There's lots of food for thought in here.

I've become a real advocate of Sarah Dobbyn's excellent book 'The Fertility Diet' http://sarahdobbyn.com/ - one I purchased doubtfully from Amazon only to be thoroughly and pleasantly surprised. She has a warm and friendly tone and has done a vast amount of research, making her book both easy to read and extremely helpful. There are many different ideas and thought-provoking tips throughout and she doesn't just concern herself with food, but takes a truly holistic approach, covering sleep through to sex and sunlight. As a result of burying my head in this fertility bible, R is taking a Vit C and zinc supplement and we are both gorging ourselves on seeds galore, oats, ginger etc. Luckily, most of the things she recommends are already familiar fare on our table but we have really upped our intake of seeds! I did a short 'lemonade cleanse' fast over the weekend to remove some of the accumulated toxins of the last ten years or so, and felt really grotty physically on day 2 and 3. I was surprised what came up emotionally too, and I was busy journalling away for most of the weekend (lucky R!). I finished off the cleanse with a colonic hydrotherapy session today with Alison MacDonald at The Andrew Kane Centre in Brighton http://www.andrewkanecentre.co.uk/ and though it is a rather weird and wonderful experience, I feel refreshed and light now. Alison was telling me that some of her clients who have had long-term trouble conceving, go on to get pregnant a month or so after a colonic. It makes sense on all levels - from a physical perspective: stagnant congestion blocking healthy organ functioning in the abdominal area; from an emotional perspective: a feeling of lightness, release and improved health and; from a spiritual perspective: clearing chakral blocks, pure release of being cleansed etc. So, I will now be standing on my soap-box telling all and sundry to 'clear out the poo!'. (R called me afterwards to find out what it was like and was MOST dubious when I suggested he have a go however - soap-box failure no. 1.)

Loads more to write but I should really be getting on with some other things too, so to end on a peaceful and sleepy note; I have become addicted to listening to story tapes to send me to sleep again! When I was younger, I would test my siblings' patience with a desire to listen to story tapes almost perpetually - now, with MP3 players replacing clunky old tape recorders, R doesn't have to indulge with me and the subject matter is a little different. Another dubious Amazon purchase (I spend FAR too long noodling about on Amazon) that turned into a real find was registered midwife and hypnotherapist Joanne Scurr's hypnosis CD 'Getting Pregnant - Hypnotherapy for fertility and conception' http://www.making-babies.co.uk/ . I was really skeptical at first and had a little titter when I initially played it on the CD player ( I think this can be excused because hypnotherapists' voices are often a bit gigglesome when you're not in the right state to absorb them) but have grown to find it immensely comforting and positive. Joanne's very gentle voice takes you on a soothing journey of relaxation, culminating in some powerful visualisations of your healthy womb, baby, pregnancy and parenthood. This is one woman I would love to have beside me during my labour! Perfect for listening to when you're lying in bed, I always find myself lying there with a huge smile on my face thinking about those blissful baby days to come...

Good news! Results are better!

2008-10-13T06:14:00.000-07:00

Hooray! Good news! R's results finally came back to us after his second test on September 18th. There is an improvement! Still not great and quite a few unhealthy swimmers but at least it shows that there is potential for change. We went away for a lovely uplifting holiday to refresh our spirits the day after he had his test so had to keep calling from abroad to see if they were ready. On about the fifth day away, the secretary at the GP surgery said that the doctor wanted to speak to R but wasn't available, could R call back tomorrow. R was very gloomy after this and expected the worst so I did everything to bolster his spirits. That evening we had a very involved conversation about adoption, we ended up getting very excited about it and preparing to start our home study (with social workers, first step of adoption process) as soon as we returned.

The next day when we got the results - that there was a marginal improvement from the completely non-existant sperm in the first test - we weren't quite sure what to do with ourselves! It was hard to know how we felt. Of course we were happy but it did mean that our journey was by no means over. No more cycling or even occasional drinking for R and a very healthy diet and supplementation for how long? We have decided to give ourselves a year and then if nothing has happened to start the adoption process. It's strange but as soon as we got the results I realised i had really squashed down a deep sadness about not carrying my own child, birthing it naturally, breastfeeding it, not vaccinating it etc., all decisions that would be taken away from me if we adopted. I had spent the day when we were talking about adoption with a tight chest and it was refreshing to be able to work out why.

A weekend in fine company

2008-09-07T14:13:00.001-07:00

Just had the most wonderful weekend away with our neices - proper soul food and feel refreshed and revitalised! They are just the most wonderful kids - funny, clever, warm, loving, totally unique and beautiful individuals... We revel in their company and the four of us always have such a giggly, brilliant time. After I have been renewed by them and their wisdom, I feel much better about things as I know they will get cousins one way or another - one day.

why not us?!!

2008-09-02T11:59:00.000-07:00

Lordy, today is one of those days, I think. We had a fabulous big BBQ/party for everyone in our village on Saturday with loads of people and loads of fun, going on until the early hours. We both had a great time, though we had to field the usual 'so when are you two going to hurry up and have babies?' questions. We have taken to telling everyone the truth, that we're trying (not to get desperate about it) and have been for a while. Lots of people get floored by that, most say 'oh, it'll definitely happen for you, I just know it will, you two will make the best parents' before changing the subject. Unfortunately making the best prospective parents doesn't seem to make a difference in this crazy game.

And today...R woke up very glum and I stirred sleepily to ask him if he was ok. He had had another dream that I was pregnant (a recurring theme for both of us) and was really devastated to wake up and find it was 'just a dream' - a bit like an adult version of those piles-of-Christmas-presents or massive-chocolate-cake dreams. This put me in a weirdish mood which followed me around a little on this wet and windy day. I went to see my godson this afternoon which cheered me up no end. When his mum was pregnant with him we kept saying we'd 'do pregnancy together', yet my baby bump failed to materialise. We both hoped I'd catch her up throughout the pregnancy, but the months went by. Now her little boy is approaching his first birthday and she's planning another!! This has happened with quite a few of my friends, some of who had been planning and some who had a serendipitous surprise arrive in their womb. What I have become a master at is having the right face for the occasion - whilst I am, truly and honestly, over the moon for my wonderful and deserving friends, I cry a little internal tear for us. Selfish? Maybe...I still can't work that one out.

Well, I was saved from the silly face this evening when some very good friends we've been out of touch with, emailed to say that they had a baby due in 2 months. I can't tell you how happy I am for them and we both laughed out loud with happiness as they will truly make the best parents - such warm-hearted and fun-loving souls they are. But we're sad and neither is quite voicing it to the other. R just said 'I so want a baby' which is a bit of a mantra chez us, and then he took the dog out for a walk for some quiet time. Facebook threw one at me too, with photos of my ex's beautiful new baby, his second child.

We had this conversation on Sunday, one we go over and over, about how easy making a baby seems for most people. The way people say 'straight after we married the kids came along' or 'they weren't planned but it just happened' or 'I stopped taking the Pill and next month I was pregnant!'. And we sometimes say 'why not us?!'. I think it is ok to be a little down about it now and then.

yoga positions and lovely husbands

2008-08-28T03:21:00.000-07:00

Lucky me - I had a visit from an amazing Scaravelli yoga teacher friend yesterday who came to my house to teach me some postures for opening up the pelvis (as this seems to be a running theme from all the alternative practitioners I have consulted). Lying on my horrifyingly grubby carpet aside (how could I not have realised how bad it is until I'm facedown on it?), it was a wonderful morning leaving me feeling restored and energised. I am going to practise some of the postures every day in an attempt to get energy flowing more freely throughout my pelvis. I keep promising myself I'll use the hula hoop R bought me to loosen up too but found it confoundingly difficult to keep the thing spinning around my waist (stuck, moi?). My neices took to it like a duck to water, reminding me how free and unfettered our childhood bodies are until we get them all locked and blocked with our stuff.

R's second sperm test is on September 18th - I am really holding out hope as I feel he has been amazingly committed to improving his testicular health. An avid cyclist, he used to cycle about 26 miles a day (a 13 mile commute to and from work) in all winds and weathers. He now sets off walking to the station every morning despite having to get up at the crack of dawn and has done for nearly 3 months now. Though not really a heavy drinker, he has cut drinking down to a sporadic ale with friends and I have admired his complete resolve when we have been at parties or festivals over the summer. He has also been taking a (very expensive - he nearly fell off his chair when he saw how much good supplements cost!) supplement that helps boost sperm health from Biocare. Surely all of this will have some kind of effect?

Even if it doesn't, and his sperm is still pretty poorly or non-existant, I'll be safe in the knowledge I have the most wonderful, caring husband who wants a baby with his whole heart (and not, as all the books tell me, just because I do) and is willing to change his life in order to maximise the chances of it happening. I am very blessed. Lucky me indeed!

Emotional health and fertility

2008-08-24T08:07:00.000-07:00

As someone who generally pursues the holistic approach to most things, I am very interested in how our mental health affects our ability to get pregnant. The current medical approach to infertility is the use of a lot of invasive tests and procedures that tend to leave couples feeling more isolated, depressed and useless than when they started. The terms used to describe individuals struggling with fertility problems, such as 'barren', chip away at already fragile self-esteem. I personally find that the medical approach to most things rarely takes into consideration the complex mind-body balance and this seems most vital when it comes to creating new life.

Take, for instance, 'unexplained' fertility problems when a couple cannot conceive for years despite nothing being 'medically' wrong with them. Sometimes, the partnership breaks down and they both go on to have children with other people (a celebrity example is Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman), indicating that they were both capable of having children but their bodies decided not to. For anyone struggling with unexplained fertility problems, I do not mean to belittle your experience or make you mistrust your body more than you may already do. What I am saying is that often there is something deep within us that we have to process, let go of or confront before we are ready to be parents.

I know I am pretty new to this fertility quest lark compared to some old-timers, but I am increasingly aware of the need to process some deep-seated guilt and sadness from my late teens before my womb is ready to carry a child. It is amazing what we can store on a cellular level in areas of our body. I have had clients who have really cried and released some deep, old emotions after deep-tissue massage - this kind of stuff can get trapped in the body and fester there, sometimes causing more serious problems like cancer. In most cases, people who come to me with bodies like rock are unable to let go of things and fear letting people get too close to them. They often have a jolly, bright facade that hides this deeper malaise but as soon as I touch their back, it tends to radiate trapped anger, resentment, grief or whatever they are holding on tight to.

So, back to getting pregnant. Girls (and boys) are generally brought up in our culture with only a fleeting education on their sexuality, mostly revolving around some product-pushing Tampax lady saying that the only option is to stick some bleached, chemical-ridden, TSS-causing, landfill-filling bit of tat up inside our bodies. We don't really have words that celebrate our burgeoning sexuality throughout our teens, instead we have words heavy with hatred to describe our most precious parts. Because we aren't taught how sacred our bodies are, and how beautiful, unique and vital our sexual organs should be, there's a tendency for teenagers to fall into bed at the first drunken opportunity. Talk to any adults about losing their virginity and it is pretty much an accepted norm for it to be an awful, embarrassing and at times, horrific, experience. Not just because of a fumbly condom-inside-out moment, but because emotionally they didn't feel ready, and somewhere deep down, on some subliminal level, they know that it should have been more special than that. Sharing our bodies with others should be special, should be sacred. Not that I'm advocating monogamous, wait-til-you're-married relationships for everyone by any means; sexual experimentation can be fun and exciting and can be a wonderful part of growing up if approached with a healthy love and respect for your own body and that of your partner. But too often it isn't - it's about sex with someone you just met at a party when you're off your head and feeling depressed and soulless after. Maybe our bodies remember these violations? And what about sexual abuse, incest and rape survivors too? These deep, deep sadnesses build up in certain parts of our bodies and sometimes it is hard and frightening to let them go.

This is a curious subject for me because I always felt certain that all of this ('this' being our current inability to get pregnant) is happening for a reason. I had a Eureka moment last night thinking about the things I needed to address and let go of emotionally before I really, truly am ready to carry a child in my womb. The tough bit is how to do it! I started having counselling for the first time in my life a few months back and was able to release lots of emotional stuff. In the end I finished my sessions because I found my counsellor's incessant requests that I get myself a GP in case I lost the plot a little off-putting. She simply couldn't understand that I don't want, or currently feel that I need, any intervention from a doctor. I want to search within and get some answers, not go seeking them elsewhere and absolve responsibility for the healthy working of my body. I have a few ideas I am ready to pursue so will post how I get on.

In this same vein though, I am interested whether we carry deep memory of events during our own conception, our mother's pregnancy and our birth? R's parents had a rocky and difficult relationship prior to his conception and she had several miscarriages. R seemed determined to stick around when she got pregnant with him but his birth was traumatic and did nothing to ease the difficulties in his parents' tumultuous marriage. They divorced, in a flurry of recrimination, when he was 11 and have not spoken since. I began to wonder, after his sperm tests came back, whether his body, on a cellular level, feared creating the same problems and refused to begin a new life until they are properly addressed (on an emotional level, by R dealing with his own grief at his parents' difficult marriage - going to an all-boys school meant he didn't tell anyone they'd divorced until he met me 7 years later). When I put this to him he looked at me as if I were a little mad, and maybe I am. Yet it seems to me we are a complex mix of our physical, emotional and spiritual selves and none exists in isolation.

To say we can fix infertility with drugs and surgery (our current medical model) seems to me to be looking at one piece of the jigsaw and wondering how to make a picture out of it.

On the plus side, however, R has taken to talking to anyone who will listen about his sperm tests which is great. If we can get people talking about fertility problems and it becomes less of a taboo subject, then we are a lot closer to looking at it through an holistic perspective.

Preparation for parenthood classes

2008-08-24T05:58:00.001-07:00

Had a wonderful day yesterday at my neice's birthday tea party - she has grown up so much in the last year and seems wiser than her seven years. What I love most about my neices is their amazing interaction with their worlds; having not had the excitement and zest for learning erased through intensive schooling, these home-educated girls are like sponges, absorbing, analysing, questioning, learning joyfully all the time. It is a very special gift my sister and brother-in-law share with them.

Woke up this morning to skies full of rain and a sofa covered in sick, an offering we presumed was from our littlest cat. Whilst we were arguing how to clean it up (R having found numerous websites saying use bicarb of soda), the dog heaved up another pile of sick on the carpet. So our morning was spent cleaning up sick and administering water, love and homeopathic remedies - if anything prepares you for parenthood, I'm sure having pets must be it!

Feeling lucky...

2008-08-22T15:04:00.001-07:00

I spent some time today with someone who had just had a miscarriage and my heart went out to her. She had been trying to get pregnant for some time and then lost her baby at about 11 weeks. In many ways, I feel very lucky that our fertility journey has so far been relatively short and pain-free. We all know someone for whom it has been a terrible long, drawn-out struggle. A friend of mine now has two children and is expecting her third; after thirteen years of unexplained infertility and 2 IVF attempts, she got pregnant naturally. Of course, after all that heartache she had almost given up and that was when her babies arrived. I believe that our children are souls waiting to make their appearance earthside and they choose the time they want to be born. At times I have doubted this and wondered if, like all religious ideas really, it is a way of making the unexplainable or unknown an understandable concept. This makes life easier to handle when we are faced with disappointment or misery. However, I personally feel that our fertility journey is a gift to us, as individuals and as a couple, to know ourselves and each other better. Whether we will get a baby at the end of it, I don't know, but we have learnt a lot trying.

I guess in terms of grieving or how difficult we find fertility problems depends on lots of factors and it's all relative. We have found not being able to have children very sad but of course there is still a lot of hope in our hearts and we have age on our side too. Nonetheless, I do now realise that fertility problems are something you have to go through to truly understand. The feeling that your body is failing you sets an atmosphere of mistrust within, something I have to battle with a lot. Although it is R's sperm count that is low, I know that there are factors that may affect my ability to get pregnant too, namely grieving for two abortions in my late teens. It's been an interestingly complex process; attempting to let go of the guilt and stop blaming myself for not taking the chance to be a parent at a time when I truly wasn't ready and was very confused. I have apologised from my deepest depths to the souls who chose me when I wasn't ready for them.

On the whole though, I feel that we are lucky. We have each other and a loving family and plan to adopt if we can't get pregnant soon.

Lack of awareness of male fertility issues

2008-08-21T05:31:00.000-07:00

I have increasingly found that the books we have bought and borrowed concerning natural fertility are aimed at women. As a feminist, this grates a little. Whilst I absolutely categorically disagree with either party being 'blamed' for fertility problems, there is a long history of women carrying this sadness alone. In many cultures, there is never even a question that the fertility problem might be down to the man, and women are beaten, disgraced and made to feel worthless for not 'producing' children. In order to protect male feelings about virility and masculinity, they are not getting treatment that could help them have children.

Whilst a couple is trying to conceive, it is often the women who give up alcohol, smoking, drugs, bad food or whatever. This is great, but what about the men? There is now more of move towards recognising the health and lifestyle of the male in conception and a healthy pregnancy and baby, but boy, has it been a long time coming! I have a friend whose partner gave up drinking and smoking weed for a month or so whilst they were trying to conceive - when they were unsuccessful he went straight back to it, saying it clearly didn't make a difference! The average sperm and egg take around three months to develop so laying off the booze/drugs/fags/cheeseburgers etc. for three months prior to conception should surely be what men are encouraged to do?!

I wish the books we have got would be more helpful with male fertility issues - with fertility problems in general being divided pretty equally between male, female and unknown, it seems odd that every book lists 101 things a woman should be doing to optimise her chances with maybe a page saying that men should avoid saunas or something. Come on, we can't make these babies on our own!

Thoughts on adoption

2008-08-21T04:51:00.000-07:00

We watched the film 'Raising Arizona' the other night, a Cohen brothers (love their films) comedy in which a childless couple - with no hope of adopting because of the man's chequered past - abduct a baby from a rich couple with quintuplets. They figure that the couple has plenty of babies already and won't mind losing one. Though it is all pretty light-hearted and mostly resolved at the end, it did make me think about the desperation of women who want a baby so badly they'll do anything to get one. I remember reading tales of abduction when babies were taken from prams outside shops or stolen from hospitals (and shortly after found and returned, not like recent media tales of abduction which appear more sinister) and I always felt sorry for the woman doing the abduction too as envariably she was mentally unstable after years of miscarriage or just the inability to conceive. Sometimes not fulfilling that primal urge can tip people over the edge.

At the end of the film there are scenes depicting an extended family sharing an afternoon together and I found myself crying, much to my surprise! I guess the idea of children and then grandchildren to share your life with, whilst it is idealised in the media, calls to something deep within us. The idea of the unknown - that certainty rocked by years of not conceiving - is shocking. Maybe my husband and I won't have a big extended family to share our later years with?

That led me on to adoption, which we have been thinking about a lot lately. Whilst I fully respect couples who pursue the dream of having their own family at all costs through IVF and other methods, my husband R and I really don't want to go down that route. I have seen people driven half mad by the hope, expectancy and disappointment, not to mention financial strain and physical invasion, for what are very slim odds. I don't want to be poked around by doctors, having studiously avoided them for so long. If R's sperm test results come back negative again on September 18th, we have built a barrier of protection around ourselves - we will go for adoption.

I have a mountain of books on adoption by my bed as I know it is not an easy choice, not just for us but for the child being adopted. They will have all sorts of grieving to do too. The process itself takes an average of 18 months so we're keen to get started as soon as possible if we're not going to make a baby ourselves.

I have started looking around our house and seeing it through the eyes of a social worker; uh oh...sink overflowing - check; animals everywhere - check; haphazard and sharp-cornered second-hand furniture - check; dust, fur and pawprints on every surface - check; just about enough room to squeeze in two people and four pets with none leftover - check. I have been having Home Improvement kind of dreams of creating a mezzanine in our tiny bedroom in order to squeeze another in. When we thought we were just going to get pregnant, easy-peasy, we planned to co-sleep and maybe wedge a basket in somewhere if R's flailing nighttime limbs got too much for the babe - the couple who used to live in our cottage had two babies here and managed ok, utilising the top drawer of their chest of drawers, pulled out of course! Something tells me a social worker isn't going to be that impressed by this particular idea - 'yes, we plan to pop 'em in here, next to my smalls'.

The beginning...

2008-08-19T12:14:00.000-07:00

I have been meaning to start this blog for so long and tonight feels as good a time as any. The following post is to give a picture of where we're currently at in our quest for a family.

The journey to parenthood begins long before the child is conceived

I have always wanted to be a mum. When my sister was 7 and I was 4, my brother was born and we spent many a happy hour dressing, bathing, cuddling and playing ‘mummy’ with him. We even cajoled my mum into letting us wheel him around the supermarket, reveling in delight and truly believing that other shoppers would think he was ours! My first niece, born when I was 19, brought back a flood of memories of the wonderment of the newborn. The smell of her skin; her wide, knowing eyes; the feeling of utter love she engendered – all these things are familiar territory for the new parent falling in love for what feels like the very first time.

My husband and I began thinking about children long before we got married. We stopped using protection a while before, with a sort of secret excitement about a hidden bump under my Oxfam dress. The May woodland wedding came in a flurry of bluebells, and then we whisked ourselves away for a magical honeymoon in Thailand, living the simple life in idyllic beach huts. I thought I was pregnant then, but wasn’t surprised to discover that food prepared ‘Thai spicy’ (the equivalent of the much more handleable ‘tourist spicy’), rather than morning sickness, had had an effect on my digestive system.

The months following our wedding were filled with a kind of anticipation. Friends and family knew how keen we were to have children and there were knowing smiles over happy meals shared. Not long now… My diary is filled with entries in the two weeks following ovulation predicting the presence of a new life. My husband and I honed our antennae, trying to sense the presence of another in our lives. We walked up to the ‘badger’ tree – a beautiful, striped oak tree under which he proposed to me years earlier – and, awed by its magnificence, asked to be blessed with a child. With the sun shining down on us and the leaves rustling conspiratorially, we felt filled with hope.

My sister gave us a book on spiritual conception and we began to fill notebooks with our wishes and hopes for our future children. We wrote letters to them. These secret beings grew in our hearts; they have names and futures we have dreamed about.

I began to follow Fertility Awareness Method or FAM, as it is known, a fabulous way to get intuitive with your body as it changes throughout your cycle. Wow! - is all I can say about the female body. So many messages and signals are given to us through our cervical positioning, fluids and body temperature. I am growing an ever-deeper respect for my body every day that I chart these things. I realised that no mechanised ‘fertility predictor kit’ was ever going to come close to watching and recording the private rhythms of my own body. No one knows your body like you do! My cycles changed according to external things – the myth of ovulation on day 14 that so many women have been spoonfed was out the window. I would urge every woman to get to know her cycles, to get pregnant or to avoid pregnancy – this is true girl power.

We went to see beautiful films about pregnancy and natural birth and sat crying together at the back, overwhelmed with the intensity and uniqueness of each birth. I was so happy to share these things with my husband – after each profound experience we became closer and closer.
During all this time, we had friends having their own pregnancy, birth and parenthood journeys, some wonderfully empowering, some devastatingly hard. We have been blessed with gorgeous god-children and watching them grow into delightful little people has been such a gift. I have always had a newborn in my life.

When the monthly anticipation became too much, we decided to ‘relax and stop worrying’ (words anyone who has been trying for a baby will recognize as those from well-meaning but completely unaware friends!). We planted an oak tree in our garden as a symbol of our hope – ‘no conditions’ my husband said, just hope for a child, however they choose to come into our lives.

Around this time, my husband went to the doctor for the first time in ten years to have a sperm test. Emotionally, lots of stuff was going on for me. I was peeling emotional layers back to my teens when I had a late, and confused, abortion, and then another about a year later. Familiar guilt was rearing its head and I went to an acupuncturist who intuitively began to work with stagnated energy around my pelvis. I bought a hula-hoop at his suggestion and found it a lot harder to master than it had been as a child. I decided to see a counsellor to talk about some of the grief I hadn’t spoken to anyone about. It felt like real progress.

My husband’s test results showed problems with his sperm. It was a real shock and we spent a day grieving - for what we weren’t actually sure, but the doctor had been so doom and gloom we felt hopeless. We retreated into a sorrowful little den to lick our wounds. A bright, sunshiney morning later, and a bit of research on the internet, plus lots of talking to friends and family reassured us that there was still plenty of hope. My husband has to give up cycling for a month – his absolute favourite pastime – meaning his daily commute is almost doubled but he’s giving it a go. The doctor’s other suggestions weren’t relevant to him as he hasn’t drunk in three months, has never smoked and eats a very healthy, mostly organic diet. We only ever use natural products for ourselves and our home, we even use fennel toothpaste so there’s no chemical nasties sneaking in behind our backs. My husband bemoaned the fact that plenty of fast-food-gorging, fag-chuffing, drug-addled men have no trouble conceiving but I am beginning to think this is somehow part of a bigger picture.

As I said to my husband last night, when we get past the stress and the sadness, this has been an illuminating eighteen months. It has brought us closer together than ever. It has made me so much more aware and empathetic with my clients who are struggling through invasive IVF or bereaved after miscarriages. One in three couples experience difficulty in conceiving. If our children choose us, and when they come to us, maybe they are setting us the ultimate challenge – to know ourselves, to peel back the layers and understand it all on a much deeper level. In these past few months I have felt a strong sense of being guided, when I let that feeling shine through it’s like a gift.

In the meantime, my husband and I are booked for counseling and I have encouraged him to face his fear of needles and try acupuncture, which research has shown to have a profound effect on fertility. Our little oak tree is growing handsomely…watch this space…