wibbly wobbly...here come the tears!

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...

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

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!

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

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....

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...

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!