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.

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....

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

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

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.

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.

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.