Category Archives: Bored

Baby Beat

So…

Baby heartbeat

I had my 16 week midwife appointment last week. It was wicked, I got to hear the heartbeat – and in fact I recorded it on my phone, and I am hoping that this works:

Hopefully that is an audio player that will play the heart beat! If so – enjoy 🙂

The appointment went swimmingly – all apart from the horrendous fact that – my midwife’s HOT… like really hot! I am going to be so so embarrassed when she comes to check on us the day after the babies born and she has to show me the ins and outs of breast feeding! or worst… has to check I’m ‘healing’ I am going to die!! lol. It really is going to be one of those “awkward moments when…”

Of course the wife found this all hilarious -and is now going book leave just to come to the next appointment so she can judge my taste!! haha.

Happy Birthday Sacha Black…

Happy-Birthday-children-celebration-photo

 

Ok so it’s not like it’s my actual birthday, that came and went in March. But WordPress just told me it’s my blogging anniversary….

What a lovely surprise, and oh how long ago a year feels, I wasn’t even married then! I will write a semi reflective post in light of this year anniversary. But for now, I am moving house – tomorrow, starting a new job on Monday, and all whilst being pregnant. I don’t have time to pee, let alone write a meaningful blog.

Just one thing i do want to say though. Obviously blogging must mean a lot to me, because I wasnt sure, if when I started it was something I would carry on… I think I have surprised myself that I have stuck with it for a whole year. I am sufficiently impressed with myself!!

Happy Birthday Sacha Black. 😀

Psycho Sach

1960, Psycho

 

Don’t feel like talking much, I am trying really hard to stay positive. I feel like a psycho. Up one minute down the next. Same shit as last time, think I am pregnant one minute, convinced I’m not the next.

Much less stressful this time, because pretending your positive eventually makes you feel temporarily positive. But the two weeks is taking an achingly long time to go.

In the morning I will be 4 Days post IUI, and 8 days till I am due on…

This time feels longer than the last.

I hate waiting.

Not only am I waiting to test, but I am also waiting for an appointment with the NHS again. It’s beyond frustrating, I am on a waiting list, for an appointment, just for a fucking appointment. During this appointment, I will just be referred to an IVF clinic. Which means I will go on another waiting list.

I wont get an appointment for the referral appointment until the end of April. Which means I wont go on a IVF waiting list till May at the earliest.

 

HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE WAITING

silently_waiting-t2

 

Why can’t I just be pregnant already?

I want to cry.

Tortuous Two Week Wait

2WW

So this is it.

The tortuous two week wait has started.

I had my first IUI on valentines day. Ironic hey?!

I know I am kidding myself, thinking I could get pregnant on my first IUI.

But I can’t help it. Bloody human nature to be hopeful. I am just terrified of setting myself up to fail.

I mean I KNOW the odds are against us. The chances are fairly slim even if you have no fertility issues. Most women take 3 – 4 IUIs before a successful pregnancy.

UGH.

I feel like the picture. The tests, in fact the whole process is waving a big fuck you in my face at the moment. Laughing at me, because theres nothing I can do but sit and wait for hours, days, weeks… ok just two weeks, but honestly, it feels like a lifetime. A full blown, eon of time before I can take a test!

I am slightly unsure of when to test too. I am due on, on the 27th Feb. But thats only 13 days after treatment, and usually your due 14 days after. So if I tested, I am not sure if I would get a false positive or vice a versa. The clinic said to wait 16 days. But that would be a few days after I was due on…. which might be a give away!

I have our NHS appointment on the 26th, so part of me wants to test then, and according to the clear blue tests I could test as early as the 24/5th but no point testing early.

I have cramps, supposedly you can get cramps after IUI and its normal, I had a minute amount of bleeding yesterday too. Again apparently thats normal. But cramps are still there on day 2.

They are off putting. My head knows they are IUI linked. But part of you, the irrational, illogical, emotional part of you wants desperately to cling to some shred, a sliver of hope that it might, just might be a sign.

I’m an idiot.

Mentally I keep slapping myself around the face, for being stupid, for clinging to any hope. I need to get real here. The odds are low. Plus this is my first time, I would have to have some serious luck to get pregnant first time.

The frustration I’m feeling has penetrated my skin, my cells, my every fibre. I woke up feeling irritable this morning, and exhausted.

The emotional journey we have been on since before Christmas, is draining my energy reserves to nil, in fact, I think I am in debt with myself!!

Whilst I might be able to see a light at the end of the tunnel. A tiny pee stick might ruin it all. Throw a big Fuck You my way, and thats it. All over for another month.

I suppose the one ‘small mercy’ I have at the moment, is my cycle is so short, that if I do get a BFN (Big fat negative) I only have 10 days to wait before I would go back to Denmark to try again…

I feel like irony is playing tricks on me, if I have to go back to Denmark, the next time will be on my birthday. What is it with me and dates?

If it does work this time, I will hit 12 weeks and be able to tell my friends whilst were all on holiday at Gran Canaria pride!

And there I go again, trying to piece tiny, insignificant nothings together to find some shred of ‘pregnancy’ or fate or anything.

Two Weeks… Two Weeks… Two Weeks… I hate two weeks.

Fortnights are not my friend any more.

I keep falling prey to ‘googling’

No woman trying to get pregnant should use google. It should be banned, locked down and banished from your life.

I am beginning to think its the ‘google of death.’ You end up in this vicious pattern, of googling one desperate question after the next. Getting more anxious and upset each time. One answer sends you flying on a blanket of elation, the next, down into a depressive tear ridden mess.

Everyone said it would be an emotional journey. It really is.

I have taken to wearing some Danish Kronor. I got these whilst over there, change for our train tickets I think. But now I’m wearing them round my neck… for luck I guess.

Another stupid made up superstition.

*slaps self mentally*

photo-1

How the hell am I going to get through the next 11 days?

This is pain.

But  pain of a whole different nature.

It’s pain you cant feel physically.

It’s a nasty squirming sensation. A plague that infects the veins in your brain. Wriggles its way around your cerebrum. Nudging and irritating you just often enough you don’t forget it is STILL 11 days…… or 264 hours, or 15,840 minutes.

Sounds like a lifetime.

Boredom is a virus

Boredom is like a virus.

 

It’s a disease.

 

It starts with a unitary cell and spreads slowly and calculatingly through your whole body, until your entire being is depressed.

 

One brain cell, followed by another, and another, and then it spreads to your blood stream and into your muscles. Fatigue swells through your limbs and fights the nodules of energy in your muscles; causing you to feel restless and itchy.

 

It makes your whole body ache with irritation. You want to resort to childhood tantrums, except you can’t because you’re at work and it’s not allowed. You can feel your soul wriggling around inside you tempting you to do something naughty or inappropriate, just to explode out of the boredom.

 

The problem is, boredom isn’t momentary. Once you are bored, it infects everything. Suffocating your motivation, and drains you of energy.

 

When I am busy, I get lots done I am efficient, effective, and creative. But when I don’t have enough to do, I get angry. My inner hulk, is awakening, I can feel the familiar burn of rage brewing deep in my gut. I want to lash out at everyone because I am frustrated, but I can’t. They haven’t done anything. It’s me. I am frustrated at my situation, I am unhappy, but worst, I am bored. Bored of the same 8 hours a day, miserable at the lack of challenge, and tired of being surrounded my uneducated, close minded idiots.

 

Boredom is a virus. I am infected. I am contagious.

 

Lesbian on Autopilot

Do you ever get that feeling that life is passing you by, and theres nothing you can do to engage or grab hold of it before it disappears?

I like to think of it as ‘autopilot’.

Its not really your friend, but sometimes you need it.

The irony is, hopefully this post written last night is on autopilot and will have posted automatically at some point around lunchtime tomorrow today.

As I have already established I am failing miserably at all aspects of my life at the moment!

I have mush for brains.

Anyone ever seen click? (the film) Essentially, he has a remote  control that controls his hole life and he can fast forward, pause, turn down etc etc parts of his life. He ends up wasting it and fast forwarding through all the goods bits as well as the bad.

I have way too much on. It’s stopping me being a friend, a daughter, a girlfriend, and a person.

Autopilot is also dangerous. I LITERALLY nearly killed my girlfriend last night.

We were trying to clean up the house after a weekend of wedding related shenanigans and for some reason I thought it was a really good idea to put three rolling pins on top of the highest cupboard in the kitchen.

Rolling pins roll.

Clearly didn’t think that one through.

The gf was sat on the floor doing girlfriend like things, and as I reached up to get something from behind the rolling pins I inadvertently knocked the rolling pins off.

With a disengaged brain I was unable to think of the word ‘move’ quick enough to scream it, so I just screamed some nonsensical gibberish word. Luckily enough she moved her head in time and only got her arm bashed.

But seriously what was I thinking?! Or not thinking more to the point.

Today I found myself having driven from one work location to another with literally no idea how I got there. More to the point I realised after I had just come off a roundabout, and I wasn’t even sure if I had looked in the right direction to check to see if anything was coming. I still couldn’t tell you if anything had been coming. Obviously not because I didn’t get hit. But not really the point

I must be on crack. I could have got myself killed!

I seriously need a metaphorical slap in the chops to snap out of autopilot. I might be having an existential crisis, but I sure as hell ain’t suicidal!

I am not sure where autopilot comes from, but I am going to blame mine on

a) the existential crisis

b) wedding brain. I liken this to something akin to baby brain. Clearly never having kids I have no evidence for this, however, I am emotionally unstable, practically senile, on autopilot, and lost any ounce of what little common sense I had.

c) the Molotov cocktail of painkillers (trying to numb the week long headache) and the glass of wine I keep necking when I get in from work.

Speaking of, I think its wine o’clock…

Existentially bored.

Forget mid life crisis, I am having a mid twenty something post university, pre marriage existential crisis.

This blog (and many more in the same vein to come I imagine) were always coming, and in some senses the probably the foundation for why I am writing in the first place.

I am lost.

There I said it.

Once upon a time… I wanted to be an actress, then a psychiatrist, then a psychologist, then a doctor, then an academic, then a Vice Chancellor, then a politician. Then I got lost.

I took so many turns I got lost and tangled up in a big mess of Sacha, then I stopped following my dream.

Now I have forgotten what it was. Literally.

Existential Crisis

I am not asking for sympathy. I don’t need it. I am lucky, I am employed for a start, with the British economic climate in the shit state that it is I should be thankful; and I am. I have food and a roof, a loving partner and two adorable baby substitutes in the form of cats! Thats an awful lot more than most people in the world. So I am not complaining. I am aware that this is a first world problem. But it’s my crisis, and I am working on it!

Beside this feels more like pondering.

Technically I ought to be fortunate and grateful for the position I am in. I am on a pretty prestigious scheme and work towards being a manager over a couple of years, jump several pay packets and get more qualifications.

Thats all great.

But I am STILL bored.

I don’t cope well bored. I turn into one of those really annoying disruptive kids in school that everyone hated despite secretly finding really funny.

annoying, you know you shouldn't laugh, but you just can't help it!

Technically I have a direction. A public sector direction. BORED

I am a hardworking  tortured public sector bureaucrat (PSB).  Theres always lots of work to do. I don’t think anyone is really ever sure what that work is, there seems to be a general vague malaise that follows us PSBs around. Most of the time no one can come up with a real answer as to why they are doing something, or who it is thats going to read their work.

Classic example I spent 3 and a half working days writing a board report. Took the report to board, spent approximately 1.5 minutes in the board room and left again. No one had read the paper and it got passed anyway. Shocking really. But this isn’t a rant about the public sector.

Theres work, lots of it. But its BORING; and this is really my point.

I am not sure how one finds their purpose? I seem to be questioning everything.

(God, I am so middle aged. Aren’t I supposed to be out getting pissed and doing irresponsible things at the weekends and not questioning life?)

Starting with the obvious ‘where do we come from?’ I set myself the challenge of reading, the bible, the Koran, the Torah, and Chariot of the Gods by Erich Von Daniken.

The latter being one of the books describing an alternate history linked to alien visits and one of the books behind the film prometheus.

Anyway, not having a direction fucks you up! It changes everything.

How am I supposed to get up in the morning and ‘do’ life without a serious direction. I am wasting precious minutes and seconds with no core purpose, no challenge, no direction and no goal.

I am BORED.

On the verge of mental anarchy and I pity the person I explode on.

I need a goal.

I am officially sending out an

S.O.S

I need to find a direction. It makes me want to vomit  and punch myself in the face to even say this; because I hate cliches, but, “I need to find myself”

vom.

Anyone with a quick fix will be my new have person! Answers on a postcard. Or alternatively posted below 😛