AUTISM ALERT - free printable

I am blessed that in our home autism has not significantly compromised the safety of our family members, but many families with an autistic loved one have to make plans for emergencies.

One thing I'd not really thought about was alerting emergency responders to the fact that a person with autism is present.

The more I think about it, the more I can see how essential it would be to be able to let a police officer entering your home know that a person with autism lives there. That they may not respond to verbal commands. They may be non-compliant THROUGH NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN.

I think about the urgency of letting responders to a car accident know that an  person with autism may have been in the car. That they may resist help, or they might have run away and be hiding in nearby bushes or buildings.

I have seen alerts available, most requiring ordering ( & payment) and shipping.

I have made a free printable and I am more than happy for you to share it far and wide, sharing is caring xxx

CLICK HERE to go to the free PDF download, hosted through a safe file storage Mediafire. ( the pic here is just to show you what it looks like, not high enough resolution for printing) 

I have made two sizes, one that is about half the size of a piece of A4 paper, perfect for putting at the front door to alert visitors and a smaller version that could go in a car window without obstructing driving vision. Print them out and laminate them. 

Given with love x

Happy Birthday to our sweet girl

In a totally self indulgent photograph heavy Thankful Thursday Post , I am THANKFUL today for my beautiful daughter who turns 18 today.

From the minute we knew she was on her way, she has been the softest whisper in my heart, a gentle and forgiving soul.

She has been the sweetest smile on my saddest day and she never ceases to amaze me with her creativity and her kindness.

I look at the woman she is today and it just takes my breath away, that this lovely young lady has grown from our bumbling attempts at parenthood.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET GIRL.

May all your dreams come true, just like ours did.

 XXX

Thankful Thursday xx

Loving the creative process - Easter Swag Printable

Once upon a time, I made timber buttons for the crafting world. hundreds and thousands of buttons. I designed them, cut them out with my laser machine and then handpainted them.

My favouritest thing of all was the design process. Getting a spark of an idea, planning and drawing, and tweaking it until I had a final product that I loved. I would get butterflies in my tummy, be so very excited and do little happy dances when a new idea worked out into something really cool.

Last year, for several reasons, I closed down my little Button world. 

I don't miss the marketing, the advertising or the demands for MORE! I don't miss the pressure to stay 'on-trend' or to stay one step ahead of my competition. I don't miss the mess, the paints, the smell of burning timber. I don't miss customers who wanted to pay $1 for an intricately handpainted angel, and then complained that they could have gone to Spotlight ( for a cheap, mass produced plastic something).

What I miss is the design process. Time playing with my art program. Fine tuning a design until it is good or even great.

I miss giving stuff away, I love that feeling. I loved saying "Take it, have it, I want you to have this".

So today I am very thankful to have rediscovered that spark. The fun.

In a very basic way, I get to have all the fun of designing with none of the pressure. My art program is run off its feet and my brain is once again swirling with ideas.

On Monday I made a Printable, as a bit of a personal challenge. A little Easter holiday plan, for anyone who might like to plan some fun times over these school holidays. 

You can download it here for free - Yay!

On Tuesday I made an Easter Egg swag with Miss 9, pretty simple but also PRETTY!

So I made that into a printable. Because I can.

It's cute, prints out on A4 paper and is a super simple project to do with your little kiddly-winks over the school holidays.

Click here to for the free Swag printable with simple instructions :-)

(Super simple = print and cut out, punch some holes, thread them on and hang !)

Yesterday, I had more fun with my designing... that idea needs a little fine tuning but stay tuned... I sense a storm of printables is on it's way.

I have that buzz back. The butterflies are dancing. I am feeling the happy. Yay 

Thankful Thursday xx with Lovely Rhi

I'm Loving This.

So there's been a bit of a blogging slump for me... too much to say that I can't really say out here in blog world and yet the mundane is just so... mundane.

But today I read THIS POST from Mrs BC's House of Chaos and I thought, that's an awesome start.

A snap shot of ten things I'm loving right now.

1.RUNNING. It's freeing. It's empowering. It's bloody exhausting. But I love it. I love knowing that I've put a few kilometres under my feet. I love the endorphin rush. I love the fact that my butt is now smaller and that I'm not gasping for air when I have to chase the puppy. 

Most of all, I love the zone I get in, where I can't think about anything other than breathing in and out, and where my feet are heading. It's enforced meditation, a compulsory clearing of the mind. Breathe In Breathe Out. That is all.

2. MY IPAD MINI. At Christmas by a freakish but fortunate set of circumstances my husband brought home a brand new Ipad Mini. He already has an Ipad so I claimed it he very generously gifted it to me.

AWESOMENESS!

As a night shift nurse who often gets to work to discover I am destined spend the next 10 hrs sitting at the bedside of a delirious patient, this little gadget of wonder is my new night companion. From banking to games, to blogging and reading via the Kindle App, this little dude does everything except make me coffee. LOVE LOVE LOVE

3. BUNNY RABBITS. Oh yes, we are a newly converted bunny friendly household now. If you caught my post where we gave Miss 16 her rabbit, you'll know this was something she wanted for a REAAAALLLLLLLY long time. 

Like, forever. 

We already have 2 small puppydogs and a rather cross cat, but Gimli the bunny has settled in nicely and has made best buddies with Teddy. Teddy is taking his role of big brother and protector very seriously and his favourite thing to do in the whole wide world is to lick Gimli's ears til they flutter like a helicopter. So much cuteness.

4. CHERRY TOMATOES. They are tomatoes, they are like cherries. What is not to love? I'm snacking on a punnet a day. I could blarb on about the vitamin C boost, making healthy choices,  blarb...blarb...blarb  but you know what, I actually never think of those reasons. I just love the way the skin pops and the juice flows out. Tasty.

5.Re-READING. It's so easy to flop on the couch and let the Television take you and your brain cells on a little holiday, but since I started doing exclusively night shifts, I have lost touch with all those series that seemed so important before. I never watched the end of Offspring, I have no idea what happened in Homeland. I have only seen ads for the INXS story and for Love Child. The noise of the voices and constant harsh jarring advertising makes me cringe. 

So I read. I am re-reading my lovely Marian Keyes novels, And having a wander with Jodi Piccoult. I have read and reread Any McNabb's autobiographies. There is something truly blissful about opening the pages of a loved book. The familiarity and certainty of where the story will travel allows you to sink into the story fully and enjoy the journey. 

6. WALKING MY MUM'S DOG. I mentioned earlier that we have two small puppy dogs. Neither of them are particularly enthusiastic about walking. Teddy (laid back hippy cavoodle love child) humours me and waddles around the block. Abby ( paranoid schizo crazy poodle girl) spends every second of a walk trying to convince me she is dying a horridly painful death. She cries, yelps, lies down on her back and refuses to walk. She runs ahead and turns around trying to jump up into my arms. Anything she can do to get out of this crazy 'exercise' business.

My Mum and Dad have had to go away for a couple of weeks and I have been babysitting their dog Billy. He's a tough wiry boy, with some Jack Russell and a whole lot of bitza. He's strong as an ox, and he adores going for a walk. He grins as he leads the way, sniffing and weeing on every tree, stick and dainty flower he can get close to. He likes to say hello to every dog, cat or snail he discovers and he can walk for miles. Yesterday we got close to the little creek near their house and he took off racing along the bank, under the low hanging branches, through the reeds. He discovered some ducks and considered having a swim with them. He was so joyful and happy and In The Moment. 

7. J-MAN GOING TO WORK. I can't say much as it is early days. But.... J-man is trialling with a local builder/joiner with the idea that if all goes well he'll be taken on as an apprentice. Anyone who read my RANT about the stupid Unemployment system in Australia knows this is a big deal. Huge. Enormous.  Fingers, toes and eyeballs crossed that it continues.

8. WHITE GOODS. Weird choice perhaps but here's the thing, I am so bloody grateful for my washing machine and my dishwasher right now. Between J-man's dirty work gear, all the school uniforms, work uniforms, ballet/jazz/hiphop gear, teenage " I wore it for 5 minutes so now I need to change my outfit" clothes plus towels, sheets and underpants, I firmly believe that the washing machine, not diamonds, are a girls best friend. 

Second to that is the dishwasher. I know I am very lucky to have a dishwasher and yes, we can survive just fine doing our dishes by hand, but guys, it just makes mornings and evenings so much easier. 

9. COOLER EVENINGS. I can handle the heat in the middle of the day, but there is something exhausting about a hot night. You can't sleep well, you feel like you need a shower, even when you just got out of the shower, your pillow is too hot and for some reason all the animals can't respect personal space. Finally we have a few cooler nights, and we are all much better rested. Well rested means no grumpy teenagers in the morning (who am I kidding, one of them is always grumpy!) and energy to get through the next day.

10. BANJO KAZOOIE. Little secret I need to share with you. I'm a complete dork. A nerd. I am happily living in the 90's with my Nintendo 64. Yes blog readers. I love my games. I am the master of the early editions of Spyro The Dragon on Playstation and on Nintendo 64 I am quite partial to Banjo Kazooie. It's okay if you don't know the game. Just know that this weekend, I'll probably be kicking back with a glass of wine, a bowl of chips, control stick in hand showing my kids how to defeat Gruntilda like a boss. Because deep inside I'm actually twelve.

What are you loving right now? 

Linking up with Jess for I Blog On Tuesdays

2014 - and so it begins

Last year on New Years Day I wrote a post, and here's what I wrote for my plans for 2013:

"I think this year will be a year of absorbing and embracing, learning and growing and appreciating everything that I have .
I hope that I have an open and willing heart, the energy, and the grace to accept the lessons that come my way."

Turns out, those lessons were sucky, delivered unpleasantly and actually crippling.

It's a lovely notion to "embrace life's lessons" but the fact is, when you feel under threat you don't want to embrace anything or sing Kum-Bay-Ah while some anonymous spirit plucks the guitar. 

You run for cover, you protect your vulnerable places and you become hyper aware of danger, threat and attack.
No sane person willingly accepts a nasty attack or a threat to their world, and frankly if I seem ungracious and defiant, it's because I believe the attacks were unkind and unnecessary.

However, I did throw it out there in writing to the universe and to blog-land that I wanted to Embrace and Learn and Grow.

So....

For 2014

I hope there is a meal on the table each night and that my kids feel safe and loved within our home. 

I hope for smoother waters, a calmer existence.

I hope that those people who are not working to help and encourage my family stay away and find something else to do with their time. 

I also no longer plan to calmly and serenely embrace the lesson,I plan to fight to the end, no holds barred, taking happy snaps for my blog along the way.

No mega plans for fitness or eating 7 vegetables a day, no plans for daily blogging, no plan for finding my 'authentic self' or for sitting on a beach making sea shell necklaces while I find spiritual balance.

Nope, my basic plan is to meet the day head on, knowing that I am a good person, and that I am loved by those who are important. Every once in a while, I will be awesome. Because I can.

What was your new year resolution ( if you had one?) And were you as happy as I am to wave goodbye to 2013?

Do you deliver?

The truth is, I'm quite lazy and impatient when it comes to getting rid of clutter around the house.

Some people take photos and write great descriptions and sell items on Ebay auctions.

I can't be bothered.

So I turn to something guaranteed to move stuff out the door faster than a speeding train.

Facebook "Free stuff" Groups.

In my area there are a couple of Free Items pages, The idea is you just take a picture and let the first person who says "Mine" have it. They collect it, it's gone. Happy Days.

Yesterday I put a bag on there.. I put up two pictures and described it.

Free : "Large bag with shoulder strap, in new condition, perfect size for laptop, but can also be used for craft stuff, scrapbooking... two large inner pockets. MUST COLLECT today."

Pretty clear I would have thought.

So within 2 minutes a woman messaged me. 

"What else can it be used for?"

I wrote back "Umm, it's a bag. So bag-gy things. Put stuff in it. "

She replies. "Oh Okay. Can I pick it up on Friday?"

I reply "I would like it collected today, like I said in the ad."

She writes "Can you please deliver it to me? I live out of town."

Sigh. Lady, it's a free, 'as new' bag. Free, I'm giving it. Now you want me to use my petrol to bring it to you too?

There is a bit of a "Give an inch, take a mile" attitude going on there and although I realise she was asking politely , I can't help but roll my eyes and wonder. 

Maybe there has been too much Christmas spirit consuming, maybe it's the end of year crazy, maybe I just don't tolerate 'stupid' very well.

What do you do with clutter? 

The end of Santa

"Mum, is Santa real ?"

My nine year old sits cross legged on my bed, head cocked to one side and she gazes at me, waiting for an answer. 
I gulp, I hedge, I distract.

"Well, is he ?"

She waits on my reply and the longer I delay, the more insistent she becomes on a straight answer.

I'm looking into her eyes and honestly my heart is breaking. 
Big fat tears roll down my cheeks and I am trembling. 

Crashing around in my head, as I try to catch up with the transition is a running line of "Not yet, not yet, I'm not ready, I'm just not ready".

But she is trusting me to tell her the truth and with a few questions, I know she knows, I know it is time. 

Through tears I confirm her suspicion and with that, we reach the end.

The end of Santa, of the mystery and the childish stories. The end of little ones imagining reindeer flying through the sky. It's the end of milk and cookies, and reindeer food, of listening for sleigh-bells. The end of trying to stay awake to maybe catch a glimpse of Santa creeping through the house.

I know there is still fun, still presents and decorating, and anticipation of Christmas morning, but it's with a wiser view, a more mature understanding. 

I am still sad. Selfishly I hoped for another year or two before the magic disappeared. 

She asks why I am crying and I can't even put it all into words. How can you explain to your baby that she is still your baby even when she is big and smart and clever. How can you explain that even though you are delighted at the wonderful girl she is becoming, part of you longs for the simplicity of babyhood, and the days when your 3 year old simply believed everything you told them because you were their world. 

This morning I lay down on her bed beside her, and watched as she woke up. I explained to her that even though she now knows the truth about Santa, lots of kids in her class still believe in him, and that its important to keep the secret going for them. It's important that they find out in their own way, in their own time.

She just shrugged and smiled. "It's okay Mum. I won't spoil it for the little ones."

Another step towards grown up.


Have you faced this question? Did you bawl like baby too?

Unbalanced

Once again I have got myself out of balance.
Working too hard, working too many night shifts. Saying "Yes" to everyone at work.

I've let my time and energy get spread so thin at work that I'm not being the parent I want to be.

Yesterday morning, I came home from my 8th night shift in the fortnight to find Miss 9 sitting at the table eating breakfast.
Her hair was fuzzy, fresh from bed. She had just pulled it back in a hairband without brushing it.

I was tired, so tired. I just wanted to fall into bed. 
I didn't say hello, or kiss her good morning.

I grabbed a hair brush and BRUSHED that hair, quickly, careless of knots that pulled at her little head. She just sat there quietly while her head got yanked around and I made it neat.

I didn't kiss my husband "hello". I didn't cuddle my dog. I didn't tell my kids to have a good day, or that I loved them as they walked out the door to school.

I haven't blogged in 3 weeks, even though I love it, I haven't seen my friends for ages. I haven't returned phone calls ( or library books) and I haven't cooked properly for days

I am out of balance.

I cancelled last nights shift.
I have given myself a few days off. 

I need to set some rules that I stick to, so that I can be the Mum I want to be.

How do you keep the work/family balance? 

Linking with Jess for  I Blog On Tuesdays xxx


 

Bad Mother

This morning as I dropped my sweet 9 year old daughter at school, I got a lecture about healthy eating habits for children.

Hahahhhaaa.

Today Miss 9's class is making smoothies, with yogurt, berries and milk, and of course all ingredients had to be brought from home. As I helped my child with bags etc another Mum, a very efficient, focused and authorative Mum bailed me up near the classroom. She was there to help the class make smoothies, a noble act because , frankly, I'd rather staple my head to the carpet. 

She was watching all the children as they milled around. Frowned at any child who didn't have fresh fruit to put on their snack table, and down right outraged by any poor sod who didn't even have a box of sultanas.

One little boy's lunchbox fell open as he hung his bag up and basically the entire cookie aisle of Safeways tumbled out. That kid had everything going on, from Chocolate Oreos to Tiny Teddies. His sandwich, snuggled in the corner of the box (fighting for room) was a squished up Jam & White Bread mess.

After the kids had disappeared to play, she came to me and rolled her eyes.

"Can you believe Johnny's lunchbox?? I mean... OMG all that sugar. How hard is it for a mother to pack healthy options for their child? I pack salad rolls every single day for my Timmy. Salad and fruit. There is no excuse for such lazy parenting, Did you see how big that kid is, he doesn't need any extra carbs I can tell you ......."

....
....

( I listened as I watched as her little Timmy, her eldest child,  took a swing at one kid, a kick at another, then launched himself over the railing like a kamikaze ninja on speed... looks like little Timmy is a handful.)
.....
"Sugar is evil, my child is a saint, I'm perfect, I know it all" ... or words to that effect.

.... 

"Only LAZY mothers just pack jam or Nutella sandwiches. Sugar has no place in a child's diet Blaggggggg Blaaahhhhgggg Blaaaggghhh......... cookies are food of the devil.........................harp harp harp ............. something something............ blah"

I smiled sweetly, nodded thoughtfully, and moved off toward my car.

My 9 year old blessing has fairy bread in her lunch box today.

BAD MOTHER 

LAZY MOTHER

In the car, I chuckled. I can't wait for her to hit the teenage years and discover that no matter how tightly you lock Little Timmy down, he is going to toss her salad roll and carrot sticks in the bin and buy himself a big bottle of coke and a hotdog.

I look forward to the day when she realises that if you lined up every child in the school, you actually can't tell which ones eat home made bircher muesli at the carefully set dinner table for breakfast and which one snacked on Fruit Loops in front of the TV.

I didn't tell her that once or twice I have actually served Apple Pie and Ice Cream for dinner to my children - (fruit, carbs, dairy protein = winning!)

And just like that, there is a spring in my step, because I know, for certain, that I am a bad, lazy mother. And my kids are thriving on it.

Weed Whacking - I Must Confess

I Must Confess... I am not ready for Spring.

There is nothing as pretty or as uplifting as the first few days of spring. Warm air, blue skies and freshly burst blossoms.
Ahh .. the serenity.

At this time of year I am overwhelmed by the urge to kiss the baby blossoms,  race to the chemist for Zyrtec and then the supermarket for extra strength wax .

It's time for the annual spring clean.

Not of the house mind you. Nope, the house has been just fine all winter. Floors mopped, bathrooms cleaned, kitchen sorted.
No, the spring clean I'm talking about is the Annual Weed-whacking, fake tanning, Get-ready-to-bare-your-skin event that takes place in the first week of September across our fine nation.

It's all very well, while snuggled in the Blue Jeans, woollen jackets and Ugg boots of Winter, to imagine that your lily-white shoulders and bikini line will never see the light of day.
But ,with the first warm days of Spring comes the realisation that there is maintenance to be done. In fact,  maintenance should have been done over winter and now we are looking at a total rebuild. A PAINFUL rebuild.

I prefer the  D.I.Y. approach to the great Winter Weed Whacking, because, lets face it, getting your girlie bits out in a beauty salon and hearing shocked gasps is not pleasant. Nor is it fun when your freshly graduated beauty therapist tells you she is going to have to ask for a Senior Consultation on this tricky job. Why show one stranger your Lady Garden when you can have a room full of strangers discussing the best plan of attack?

The D.I.Y. version is a private undertaking, usually aided with a couple glasses of whatever is available in the alcohol cabinet. Because ripping pubes out hurts. Those ads showing some tanned beauty smiling serenely as she Epilady's her hairs away are a crock of Sh*t. The ads where a pretty young thing whisks her (non-existent)  underarm hair away as she laughs into the camera are telling great big whopping lies.

Trust me when I tell you NO-ONE laughs as 500 hairs are simultaneously ripped out of their armpit. That is just not a funny thing. Watching someone else have it done- Hil-ar-ious!! Experiencing it yourself... not so hilarious.

DIY waxing comes with it's own special dilemmas. Sure, no-one is there to judge or gasp, but this also means no-one is there to reach the tricky bits. It takes some fortitude and brashness to apply a wax strip to an area of VERY delicate and sensitive skin and then willingly rip it away. The fact that the puppy dog is lying on the other side of the bathroom door, howling in unison with you, is a very good indication that THIS was not a good idea.

Grand ideas of a full Brazillian get rapidly down-scaled to being a minimal tidy up of any area outside the bikini zone.

And then once finished, you discover that instead of a silky smooth "Lets go to Bondi" Bikini Bod, you now have a spotty, red, angry plucked chicken effect going on.

 Very alluring !

Luckily, given the fickle weather in my part of Australia, the sunny Spring skies will give way to more rain and there will be time for the redness and plucked-chickenness to go away, before I am really expected to bare all in a bathing suit.

Are you ready for Spring?

Linking with Kirsty for I Must Confess On Mondays at My Home Truths

How To IVF

I'm suspended 2 metres above the ground between cold metal stirrups and a blue vinyl seat. The paper sheet across my legs hides nothing as his head pops up into view.
The headlight on his forehead is bright as he asks me "Do you play Golf?"
Ummmm, No!
 
His head disappears between my thighs and I start my meditative chant again.
 

 
"You are not here. This is not happening. This is a tropical beach paradise. You are lying on a beach Lisa. Breathe Lisa Breathe. "
 
There is prodding and poking. The room smiles and several heads nod as the 'right place' is chosen.
 
 
 
IVF is not for the faint-hearted and it certainly is not for those without their sense of humour.
Amongst the driving desperate yearning for a baby comes moments of sheer absurd hilarity.
 
Our Miss 9 is an IVF blessing.
 
I had my tubes cut, burnt and tied at the ripe old age of 25, thinking I would not want any more children. I was wrong.
For the next five years I cried whenever I passed through the baby aisles in Target or Kmart. I craved a baby, even as I watched my other children grow.
The Man I Married resisted and hedged but eventually agreed to follow the IVF route to have our sweet girl.
 
IVF is a weird hormone driven beast that can take you from high to low in a heartbeat.
 
First of all there are appointments and blood tests, counselling and assessments to decide if you are a suitable candidate.
In our case, the swimmers were swimming, the eggs were hatching and for some reason they decided we were sane enough to parent another child.
 
Next came sprays up my nose to make my schedule match the schedule of the doctors clinic. Everything needs to happen Monday to Friday between the hours of 8 and 5 and they make that happen with a nose spray.

 
It was time for injections in the belly.
At this point many readers might wince but I've had worse mosquito bites and the endlessly dangling carrot of a baby just makes it not so bad. It's not fun, but not bad.
 
 
I remember one night when I'd gone to the celebration dinner of a friends Yr 10 hospitality class.
I ate, I clapped but always on my mind was the deadline - 9 pm = needle time.
There I was in a high-school toilet cubicle, having just injected my daily dose of hormones, when I dropped the syringe.
 

 
 
In slow motion, I watched it drop and roll out into the main bathroom area, where it came to rest against a beautiful 5 inch cream suede heel.
"Oh, for god sake" I heard the owner of the shoe mutter, and she turned on her gorgeous heels and marched out.
Emerging from my cubicle I picked my syringe up and felt strangely guilty for absolutely no reason at all. 
I didn't re-enter the dining room. I went home with a big bag of chips and climbed into my comfy PJ's. I didn't want to know who owned the cream shoes. I just wanted a baby.
 
My ovaries did what they are supposed to do for IVF and instead of producing the usual one follicle for the month they produced 15. Yay!

You know that full, off-colour feeling you get a few days before a period? Multiply that feeling by 1000 and that is what it feels like to have 15 + follicles swelling in your ovary. Jeans didn't do up, elastic pants felt too tight, for a while I considered wearing a Muumuu.
The idea of a baby made it okay
 
Every couple of days I would drive 80 km to the clinic where a nurse would stick an ultrasound wand up my Hoo-hah to count and measure the diameter of the follicles. This was great social event every time with random nurses popping in throughout the exam to discuss progress, the weather and the perfect way to poach an egg while I laid back and smiled.

 
Two days before the determined collection date I was instructed to give myself Trigger injections to tell my ovaries it was time to Set Them Free.
On Collection day we arrived at the clinic and I changed into another paper gown, while hubby wandered down the hall and tried to pretend he wasn't about to have an intimate relationship with a paper cup. I went to sleep and woke up feeling as though a small alien space ship may or may not have run me over.
 

 
Then came what we like to refer to as The Long Wait.
 
The 3 days when you wait to see if anything, anyone, fertilised.
Do you remember, back when you were a kid, on the night before Christmas. You were waiting, on the brink of something good, but the anticipation and the underlying fear of complete disappointment was enough to have you bouncing around like a cat on Crack. It feels like that. But worse.
 

 
 
We were lucky enough to have 7 fertilised eggs, and so the time was scheduled for a transfer.
 
Which brings me back to my opening , legs in the air,  a mining helmet and me trying to think of witty comments about golf while the Doctor held in his hand the most precious little bundle of cells I have ever known.
I would have laughed at anything at that moment, paid for 100 lessons with Greg Norman. I would have agreed to a Saturday morning 6am Golf game every week for the next 50 years if only good Karma and luck could tell me this little bundle of cells were going to stay put. Guided by ultrasound, the good Doc selects the best place in the uterus to place the bundle and oh-so-gently, releases it into the world.
 
The bundle of cells transferred, I was sent away and told to carry on with normal life ( which I took to mean go immediately to bed and don't move unless the house is on fire).
 
This led to my "Addiction to testing". Those readers who have been in a similar situation may know what I mean. 
I became hyper-aware of the pregnancy tests in the toiletry aisle of the supermarket. I could spend an hour reading them all, and deciding which one was the most reliable. Which one could give the earliest prediction of success or failure. I knew them by size, colour, days before period, lines or dots or +'s.
I must have bought every Clear-Blue, Pregnosis, Crystal Clear and 1st Response pregnancy test within a 15 km radius of our home.

 
 
I peed on every stick, analysed the varied shades of white, almost white, off white and "if I put my head on the side and screw my eyes up I can almost imagine a second pink line" white.
  
Even now, passing the tests in the supermarket is a sombre moment as we carefully nod to each other and avert our eyes.
 
The first transfer result was amazingly positive but I knew almost from the start that something didn't feel right. At 9 weeks we returned to the IVF clinic for a scan where they told us that there was no heartbeat. The little bundle of cells had implanted and tried very hard to grow but for some reason it just couldn't keep developing. We were so very sad, heartbroken and generally ripped-off. I probably could have dealt with a no-pregnancy result , but to get a positive result only to have that squashed was hard. Of course my body doesn't do things easily so I ended up having a curette.. some drama.. another curette... drama....
 
A few months later after A LOT OF DRAMA that is far too complicated to explain, I found myself back on that blue vinyl chair, two metres above the ground. Two little embryos had been thawed and one of them had successfully defrosted. Doc still had his headlight on and once again we were discussing Golf. I zoned out. I breathed.

This one stayed!
Even now, nine years later, I sometimes look at her in amazement and say "You were frozen. How can that be?"

The best Icypole ever -

I know we were ridiculously lucky, that we are blessed beyond measure. I don't take any of this for granted. I promise.
We donated our remaining embryos to a couple, but sadly they did not result in a positive pregnancy. I feel so sad for that couple and yet I know we tried.
Many readers also know I donated eggs, a couple of years after our darling girl was born, to a couple who had no hope without donated eggs. You can read about their story here. (It ends very happily :-)

For those who have questions, I am an open book, ask away. If you are considering donating eggs, or wondering how your body will cope, all I can say is the horror stories in the movies are not always a true reflection of how it will be. IVF is not on my top 10 list of fun things to do, but it certainly isn't on my worst either. xxx



Time to link up for the Weekend Writer Blog Link-up

 

 

Please add your weekend post to the linky below, if you blogged Saturday and Sunday you can add each post separately.

Happy Blogging xx 

For the rules and hints visit this page