Thursday, 23 March 2017

Life Through A Lens

I don't normally say much about current events on the blog. That's not to say I don't pay attention to the News. I do. I devour it, from as many different sources as I can. I never used to be hugely interested in politics until a few years ago and now I'll pay as much attention to that as I used to pay to the Entertainment section as a teenager.

I don't usually bring it up on the blog, because this just isn't that sort of place. I talk about it in real life, I don't need to talk about it here.

But walking Tara yesterday, I was playing things round in my head, and I realised that there was something that I wanted to say, and my blog is as good a place as any for that.

Yesterday at work we watched the awful events unfolding at Westminster on Sky News. First there was the Breaking News banner which flashed up on the screen announcing that gunshots had been heard outside the Parliament building. Then there was some more information about a stabbing. Then the news about the car being used to attack people on Westminster Bridger.

We continued with our work, of course, but there was discussion of the events and we kept an eye on what the latest news was saying, trying make sense of what was going on.

Gradually the picture of the events came together and while we still didn't truly know or understand what was going on, the media gave us a sense that we were there in the event.

On the one hand, I think this was a useful thing. When big events like this happen, it's very easy for fact and rumours to get confused. I think that having the media on the ground, reporting events as they happen, is probably a good thing. Having multiple media outlets covering the same event means that you can switch between the different sources of information and get a different perspective, which is useful, especially if you're somewhat able to filter out the bias.

On the other hand, I have to disagree with the way that Sky News was reporting on the attack.

I don't know exactly when the image of the person lying on the ground, face blurred but body clearly in an unnatural position, lying where they had landed where they were thrown by the car, but it proceeded to be shown again and again over the course of the afternoon.

At first that was the only picture of a victim which they shared. Then later there was some blurry footage of a blurry shape lying on the road with some equally blurry people rushing towards them. Then a photo of a man in a suit, seated on the ground at Westminster Bridge; his face was blurred out but his hands, outstretched to the people around him, were bloody.

There was also the footage from the helicopter circling over the bridge. Down below tiny paramedics could be seen working on equally tiny shapes, manoeuvring them onto little trolleys and wheeling them towards ambulances.

And I couldn't watch it. It was macabre. When did other people's pain and suffering turn into a spectator sport?

I hurt for the people who were involved in the trauma of the event who would later find themselves splashed across newspapers and social media. For the people who might be turning on the TV because they knew a friend or relative was in the area, finding themselves squinting at a half blurred photo of someone they might know. For the people who could potentially learn from someone's photo on TV that a loved one is seriously injured.

And I couldn't help but be torn about who to get annoyed with. Sky News for showing these photos, or the people who see an awful scene like this and decide to whip out the camera.

I think it's wonderful that modern technology allows us to record our lives the way we do. I enjoy going places, safe in the knowledge that with one swipe of my phone I can snap a photo for posterity. I'm even aware that the police are asking members of the public to pass on any recordings or photos of what happened to help them build up a broader picture of just what went on. A digital recording is a whole lot more reliable than a human memory. I get that.

But I like to think that most of us, when faced with a person injured or bleeding on the ground, would think twice about pulling out that phone camera and taking a photo.

Sadly, yesterday's news demonstrated that there are more than a few people who don't share that attitude.

Wednesday, 22 March 2017


... in the middle of charger central.

To my left is my phone, charging after I was playing with it at work today and then used it to track my evening walk with Tara. On the left hand side of my laptop is my Fitbit, on the right is my powerbank.

I'm charging everything up ready for a trip to the mainland tomorrow. We're off on a shopping expedition (and for the car to be MOT'd).

... to buy a printer.

I got £31 worth of vouchers at work a few months ago so I've been planning on putting them towards a printer. I'm fairly certain that I know which one I'm going to get and hopefully with the vouchers it'll cost me less than a tenner as well. Bargain!

... The Young Ones.

Well, not right this minute, but as soon as I'm done with this post and head to bed. Since we've finished watching The Muppet Show The Young Ones has become our bedtime viewing. I wasn't too keen on the first episode, but three episodes in and I think I'm liking it a little more.

... to bed. Early.

We've had a few late nights. Well, I say we, I mean me. I've been staying up far too late reading for far too long and we have an early start in the morning, so I should really stop here and head for bed.


Tuesday, 21 March 2017

Books 35 & 36 of 2016: His Other Lover by Lucy Dawson & A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens

After reading some relatively highbrow collections of essays I moved on to some lighter material (and almost instantly regretted it).

His Other Lover by Lucy Dawson came to me in a big bag of books given to me by a family member and I figured it looked like just the right sort of fluff to follow up the heavier stuff I'd been reading. Also it was next on my bookshelf to read, and I like to follow the order of the books on my shelf, so it was an easy choice.

Things seem to be pretty good for Mia and Pete. They live together with their dog Gloria and everything is good. Except Mia begins to suspect that her boyfriend is having an affair after seeing a text on his phone. Faced with this shocking news, she decides to track down the other woman and exact revenge.

The book is written in first person point of view, from Mia's perspective, and I didn't really like her. Honestly, I felt bad that her boyfriend was cheating on her but her response was so crazy that I couldn't help but root for Pete and Liz. She would have been so much better just to call Pete on the text and his behaviour and then just leave him, since as the book went on I just got the impression that she pretty much wanted Pete so that Liz (and anyone else) couldn't have him and didn't actually care about him all that much.

It took me a ridiculously long time to read this book (given the fact it's only 262 pages long). It was over a week. I think some of this was because I was just so annoyed by Mia! It took me a while to get a grip on the story as well because in the beginning it felt as though it jumped around a bit and then I kept on stopping and not feeling like going on because Mia just wound me up so much.

And don't get me started on the ending. It just made the whole thing feel sort of pointless. Nothing changes. I'd have liked to have seen Mia decide to leave and realise she can be happy without Pete, or Pete reveal that he's definitely not been seeing Liz and Mia was being totally paranoid. Neither of these things happened and it disappointed me.

After this I decided I needed something completely different so turned to my Kindle and pulled up the most different book I could find: A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens.

This is exactly what it says on the tin. A complete history of England, written for English schoolchildren, by Charles Dickens.

I found this to be really interesting, if somewhat slow at times. I started it towards the end of August and I finished it on my work awards trip when I read over 30% of the book. Because what better way to spent your time travelling across Scotland?

It was admittedly written in a way was blatantly biased towards some historical figures and very much in favour of others. Other writings that I've read have suggested different viewpoints for certain monarchs so it was interesting to see a different perspective.

I also felt like it went into loads of details for some eras or royals, but then less for others. Presumably this was to do with what information was available for Dickens himself but that didn't make it any less frustrating. The fact he was able to go into such detail in those areas made me expect that level of detail for everything.

I really liked the fact that it quite literally covered everything. It went right back to the Angles, Saxons and Jutes, then worked forwards to Queen Victoria. Even though that's where it stops, I still found it a really interesting history book and I'd recommend it to anyone, but especially those who might have a slightly shaky grasp on English history.

Monday, 20 March 2017

#atozchallenge: Theme Reveal

Today is an important day in the A to Z Challenge calendar, it's Theme Reveal Day!

Not everyone who takes part in the A to Z Challenge adopts a theme, I'm sure that a number of people who will be blogging every day in April (except Sunday, except for the last one) will simply be revealing today that they have no theme, but I've always found that having a theme actually makes it easier to come up with topics for my posts (and keeps me from writing about completely random stuff that I know nothing about for X, Xylophones and xylocarp anyone?) so here I am!

In the past I've blogged about Infertility (2013), favourite songs (2014), and IVF treatment (2015). I'll admit, my 2013 and 2015 attempts have been my favourites, I got a fantastic response to them and looking back at them (especially 2013) shows how much I've learned myself. There wasn't really any question about what I was going to write about this time, but I wanted to avoid rehashing ground I've already covered as much as possible.

This year my focus is going to be on the embryos we were able to create during our most recent round of IVF with the posts taking the format of:

Letters to my Embryos

That probably sounds a little weird, but work with me here. I'm optimistic that one of these little bubbles currently in the freezer might one day be an actual person who will be able to read these posts and will get some idea of just how loved and wanted they have been since before they even first drew breath.

I've got about 20 posts planned so far, including all of my posts for the first week.

Check back on April 1st to see what I've got to say to my little bubblesicles.

Are you taking part in the A to Z Challenge? Have you got a theme? If you have, feel free to link to your theme reveal post in the comments.

Saturday, 18 March 2017

TV Series Review: The Muppet Show

Many years ago we picked up the first and second series of The Muppet Show and started watching it. At some point we stopped and never actually got any further through the series but a little while ago we decided to pick up the third series on DVD and start over.

Seventy-two episodes later and we've finally watched the last episode available on DVD (sadly series four and five have never materialised on DVD). And I'm really going miss our bedtime viewing.

If you've never had the pleasure of watching The Muppet Show, you don't know what you've missed. It's basically a variety show, hosted by Kermit the Frog and his crew of *ahem* interesting individuals. Oh, and they're all Muppets. Together they put on skits, shows, perform songs and generally entertain everyone (with the exception of Statler and Waldorf, the two theatre hecklers).

Each episode has a guest star paying them a visit and there are some real gems here. Everyone from Peter Ustinov to Julie Andrews, from Bruce Forsyth to Sylvester Stallone. There's really no guessing who will turn up next on the show. I actually got to the point where I wasn't letting myself look ahead on the DVD because I didn't want to spoil the surprise of what was coming next!

Honestly I couldn't pick just one episode as my favourite. There were so many bits in each episode which were funny and enjoyable which I could probably watch the complete series over again and would pick out totally different bits as my favourites. One of my favourite episodes was the one with Julie Andrews, primarily because what is better than Julie Andrews singing The Lonely Goatherd with a bunch of Muppets?

I will say that I thought the second two series were better than the first because they seemed to have found their feet and were more confident in the format of the show. I think there were more people I actually recognised or knew of in the two later series.

I do think that a special mention should go to Alice Cooper as well. I think he's probably top on my list of people you don't expect to see on The Muppet Show:

One of Mr Click's favourite episodes was the one with Sylvestor Stallone because he went all out with the singing, which neither of us were expecting:

What's kind of funny is the fact that you sort of forget that you're watching a bunch of puppets and get sucked into their world and all the goings on in The Muppet Theatre. Even when everyone starts turning into chickens, it's not really that weird.

I couldn't help but think about who I'd want to see on a modern version of The Muppet Show. I think it's a format that would still work today because there's jokes and things for the kids but there's also more adult one-liners for the adults too.

It's definitely worth watching. And our bedtime routine just isn't going to be the same now we're done with it.

Friday, 17 March 2017

Word of the Year: Succeed

I thought I'd blogged about this before, but I've had a scan back through my past posts and it turns out that I didn't ever get around to it. Oops. This is why I should keep a record of what I'm blogging about. Anyway, I planned to blog about my alternative approach to New Year's Resolutions way back in January and I'm finally getting to it now. At least I'm still getting to it before halfway through the year!

Last year I noticed that a popular theme in the Bullet Journal community is to select a 'Word of the Year' to work towards. As someone who likes setting challenges for themselves, but struggles to stick with resolutions, this seemed like a good idea.

It's kind of tricky to find a word which you want to inspire you throughout the year. I wanted something which would resonate with me and I knew I wanted one which had a positive sort of feeling, but other than that, I wasn't sure which word would be the right one for me.

As it happened, my word came to me quite easily. I thought about the sorts of things that I wanted to happen in the coming year. The big one was the IVF treatment, I wanted that to be successful, obviously. I wanted to achieve certain things at work. I had some personal stuff I wanted to work on, like taking care of myself physically, mentally and emotionally.

The immediate word which sprang to mind for all of this was Success; since I wanted success in all these areas. It was after rolling this word around in my brain a little that I realised that perhaps Success was a little too passive, that's what happens afterwards rather than what I was working on.

Succeed seemed like the natural, active, version to work towards. Succeed felt like something I could do, rather than just sit and wait for. So that became my word for the year.

I've blurred out some of the text on the page above because some of the stuff I'm working on is kind of personal (ironic, I know, considering some of the stuff I share on this blog).

While I've not given myself any specific resolutions, I've highlighted some of the things I'm hoping to succeed in and made some notes on what that might look like, for example for IVF my notes look like this:
Successful IVF/ICSI
Healthy baby in 2017
Frozen embryos for the future

Three months into the year and I've already succeeded in one and a half of those! So far, so good.

I've set myself a couple of targets for work, but these just take the form of:
Set achievable targets at work
Achieve them

That's mainly because I'm using a similar approach in my work diary. I've put a big quote on the front page of my work diary and under January 1st I wrote down a similar list of areas I'd like to succeed in at work. I don't take my bullet journal into work so it seemed kind of pointless to duplicate those in this one.

I'm enjoying this approach because it's giving me measurable goals but they're a lot more flexible than a hard resolution. The most concrete targets are the ones I set for the IVF, others are a lot more general, like using colouring in to relax, or finish some knitting projects.

But you're probably wondering how just picking a word is going to change anything, well it's pretty simple.

Whenever I'm considering something, I try to ask myself 'will this help me succeed in [whatever area it would be classed as]?' It's not a foolproof method, but I do feel like it's changing the way I think about things.

So for example, when I was waiting to find out how our embryos were doing, I basically spend the full five days doing nothing but knitting. This probably wasn't the best way to spend my time, but in terms of my emotions and physical state at the time, this was exactly what I needed. I asked myself 'will this help me succeed in healing?' and the answer was most definitely yes!

Asking whether all that knitting was going to help me succeed with work or household stuff or my blog, the answer would probably have been no, but at that time the priority was focusing on myself so in the future I would be well enough to focus on all the other stuff.

And that's why it's helped change the way I think about things. Because whenever I'm considering my options in different areas I'm having to think about my priorities. And sometimes I'm coming to the realisation that something I thought was high on my list of priorities just isn't, and that's useful too.

Do you pick a word for the year? What's your focus this year?

Thursday, 16 March 2017

How Many Rats Can You Fit In A Hammock?

More specifically, a baby rat hammock?

How many rats can you see in this picture?

If you said four, you would be correct.

Normally the hammock is Fezzi and Jingle's domain:

Dodger gets up there with them fairly often as well, he likes to snuggle in for cuddles with his bigger brothers. But normally Pocket hangs out in the grass house. He's never been much of a one for hammocks and he's quite a solitary ratty:

And of course that's not to say that he doesn't have a brother or two in there to cuddle as well when he needs to (I think that's Dodger cuddling him in the picture above).

But yesterday evening Pocket evidently decided that he needed to join in on the hammock loving, so he sort of propped himself up on the grass house and stretched across the hammock with his brothers. None of them looked particularly comfortable, but they stayed all snuggled together for a pretty long time, so who knows.

Ratties are funny little creatures.

Wednesday, 15 March 2017


... posts for the A to Z Challenge.

After my post on Monday I decided I would go ahead with the challenge. I figure it's a good way to get ahead of myself on my blog posts, and since Sundays are free I can still do my Silent Sunday posts. That might just mean skipping out on a few book review posts along the way but I don't mind missing those.

I drew up a double page spread in my bullet journal, and I've got a spreadsheet on my computer as well, which I'm using to plan out the words I'll base my posts around. I'll admit that X is becoming a bit of a sticking point (alarmingly enough, this hasn't really been a problem in the past), but I'm sure I'll get there, even if I have to get a little bit creative with it.

Check back next Monday to see what I'm planning to blog about during April.

... Zen Culture by Thomas Hoover.

It's a free ebook which I picked up about five years ago (when I first got my Kindle) mainly because it mentioned the influence of Zen culture in Japan on literature and poetry. I thought that sounded interesting. And it has been, though it's taking me a while to get through because there are a lot of Japanese names and terms which I'm muddling through.

It's an interesting read though and I'm definitely learning a lot from it. It is making me feel like writing haiku again which I've not done since my OU Creative Writing course.

... the very last episode of 24, series 5. We'll be moving on to series 6 tomorrow.

Sadly we're also coming to the end of The Muppet Show episodes that we have on DVD. Getting towards time to pick what we'll watch next. I'm really going to miss The Muppet Show, it's perfect bedtime viewing.

What entertainments are occupying you this week?

Tuesday, 14 March 2017

Books 33 & 34 of 2016: Traffic by John Ruskin & Memories and Portraits by Robert Louis Stevenson

Tuesday means it's time to revisit some of the books I read last year and sadly at the beginning of August 2016, my reading material was slightly disappointing.

First up is Traffic by John Ruskin. This is a book from the Penguin Little Black Classics collection and features two essays; the first, the titular 'Traffic', the second 'The Roots of Honour'.

I struggled to follow both of these essays at times. The first essay begins with Ruskin being invited to speak about the new Exchange being built in Yorkshire, and he opens his speech by telling the people assembled that he doesn't actually care about their Exchange and launches off into his own speech about... well, something, it was a little tricky to keep up with the gist of it.

'The Roots of Honour' felt like it had more that I could relate to. There was stuff in there about paying people a fair wage which was interesting given all the talk about the Living Wage at the time.

On the whole, this was a fairly short read (only 58 pages) but it took me two days to get through because it was a tough read. I didn't really enjoy it but it was an interesting read nonetheless. And I would've liked to have seen the audience's reaction to Ruskin when he announced that he wasn't in fact there to talk about the Exchange.

I followed Traffic with a Robert Louis Stevenson ebook, Memories and Portraits as I discovered I enjoyed Stevenson's writing style some time ago and felt this would be a good follow up.

This is another collection of essays, this time on a whole host of topics from everything from books, to dogs and his own contributions to College Magazine.

Despite being a far longer book than Traffic, I got through it very quickly. The topics in the book don't really follow on from one another so it feels a bit higgledy piggledy. You don't know what to expect between one ending and the next one beginning.

My favourite essays were the ones about reading and books. I felt like he said things that I could relate to. The essay about dogs was pretty good too. He also mentioned places in Edinburgh which I'm familiar with so that was interesting too.

Of the two, Memories and Portraits is probably the book I'm most likely to reread again in the future.

Monday, 13 March 2017

A to Z Challenge? Maybe...

April is fast approaching which means a number of things. The weather is getting warmer, the days are getting longer, Mr Click has started making noises about what I want to do for my birthday this year, and I've started updating my Amazon Wishlist with the sort of gusto normally reserved for kids with a highlighter pen and the Argos catalogue at Christmas.

But it means something else too.

The A to Z Challenge is coming up.

And after sitting the last one out, I'm seriously considering joining in for the next one.

For those not in the know, the A to Z Challenge is a blogging challenge where you blog almost every day in April (you're allowed Sundays off for good behaviour), each post follows the letters from A to Z; so on the 1st your blog post is inspired by the letter A, the 2nd is inspired by the letter B, and so on all the way through to Z.

I've taken part in the challenge three times and have blogged about IVF/infertility treatment twice and an A to Z of my favourite songs once. It turned out that after doing the first load of IVF posts before starting treatment, I then found a whole lot more to say about it after a failed round and a fresh round.

Next Monday is the A to Z theme reveal, so I've pretty much got a week to decide whether I want to do the challenge again or not. Right now I'm leaning towards yes and I've got a couple of themes in mind (of course, if you're thinking of joining up, the theme isn't absolutely necessary but it is a useful way to structure your posts to help you come up with things to write about).

Are you thinking about taking part in the A to Z Challenge? Will you be doing a theme reveal next week?

Saturday, 11 March 2017

Walking to Lothlorien, Progress Update

Last year I sent myself a challenge to walk from Bag End to Rivendell; the first part of Frodo's journey across Middle-earth. Frodo did it within a month but it took me from the 1st of January to halfway through December.

I was so impressed with the fact that I'd gone from walking sporadically to walking virtually every day (including some days when I managed around 18 miles in a day) that I decided to keep going once I arrived at Rivendell. Unlike Frodo, I didn't rest up for very long and I got straight on with my walk from Rivendell to Lothlorien.

Of course I've had a month off with the IVF treatment so I'm just now getting back to it. Aside from a few occasional walks, I really did no walking (or rather, no tracked walking) throughout February. On Runkeeper I only logged two walks (though there were a couple of walks which I forgot to track along the way).

Last weekend I decided that it was time to start walking again and after having a pretty easy weekend I dragged myself (and Mr Click) out of bed and out the door with Tara for a 7am walk. Since then I've been aiming to walk roughly 1.5 miles per day in the hopes that it'll get me to Lothlorien before the end of the year.

Less than a week later and I'm up to 38.8 miles on my way towards Lothlorien, which puts me in the early stages of Day 3 of the Fellowship's journey. I've got 423.2 miles still to go which means I need to get in 1.43 miles per day to hit my target on schedule.

Hopefully I'll be able to get some longer walks in between now and the end of December to help me reduce the number of miles I need to travel. Today I've walked 1.80 miles so I'd say I'm doing pretty well for restarting my journey, I just wish I'd not taken so long before getting back into my walking routine.

Friday, 10 March 2017

Little Love Hearts

One thing anyone with rats will be familiar with will be the little messages of love one finds throughout the day.

These can take various shapes and forms, but I think that they do it because they want us to remember them when we're away from them. And what do we always have when we're away from our pets? Why, clothes of course!

So that's where they leave their little messages.

To this day I have dozens of tops with Nero Nibbles in them. My personal favourite is long gone, but it took the shape of a 'N' carefully nibbled into a nearly new set of curtains! The majority of the Nero Nibbles are in the hoods of the hoodies which he used to ride around in.

Not a terribly long time after I graduated and got my OU hoodie, Yoda (who liked to sit in the pocket) left me a little memento of himself by nibbling the stitching at the edge of the front pocket. I remember being quite upset and not knowing how I could fix my ruined hoodie.

Though Yoda's been gone for four months now, every time I wear it my fingers wander to that frayed little patch which is barely noticeable to everyone else and remember my little old man rat. I don't feel angry about that hole any more.

So I'm sure that with time the frustration at finding a hole in the pair of jeans I wore to work today will lessen. Of course these were my best pair of jeans, the only ones which haven't been consigned to the dog walking or slobbing around the house drawer (owing to existing stains and holes).

This hole does of course mean that I'm going to have to do some shopping and buy myself some more jeans because I now own exactly zero pairs of blue jeans without holes and/or stains in them. Shopping's not such a bad thing really, I'll use it as an excuse to pick up some nice new things for work, so in that respect it's almost a good thing.

And I'm not actually sure who this little nibble was from, so I don't know which ratty in the Mischief I should get mad at. But I definitely think they were trying to tell me they love me.

It is vaguely heart shaped after all!

Thursday, 9 March 2017

The (Second) Call

On Tuesday the 14th of February, when other couples were celebrating Valentine's Day, Mr Click and I were making an important decision about the lives of our potential offspring. We ultimately went with the option to let them grow on to Day 5 in the hopes that we would know what we had to work with when we came to begin our frozen transfer, but despite knowing that this was the best thing to do, it was still a decision fraught with anxiety. I pretty much started second guessing our decision the minute we hung up the phone from the Embryologist.

Now if you've read my posts from the days following our second call from the Embryologist, you'll know that there was a happy ending to this choice. But at the time we didn't know which way it was going to go.

I spent the days that following playing a careful balancing game, searching for invisible signs which would tell me one way or the other which way the results were going to go. I saw a single magpie, that must mean we'd lost one; I saw a bunch of seals on the beach, that means they're all okay; there was something that may have been a roadkill rabbit at the side of the room, that's an embryo gone.

Somewhere in the back of my brain I kept a running tally of how many I suspected we would have by that date. I was optimistically thinking that we would maybe lose one a day, that seemed like a reasonable number and would leave us with five by Day 5. That would be one more than we'd had last time and it seemed like a good number to hope for. Each day, if my mental tally tied up with what I was expecting by that day then I would be happy, if not I would worry that we weren't going to have anything by the time Saturday rolled around.

I got into a routine as well. Each day I would load up the Advanced Fertility website and send Mr Click a picture message of what our Little Bubbles should be looking like that day. Then I would commit that image to memory and concentrate on it through the day, in the hopes that I could somehow send a message to my embryos that this was what they were supposed to look like.

I suppose that concentrating on the Bubbles the way I did helped me to feel like I was doing something to help. In reality there wasn't much I could do, and that made this one of the most difficult bits of the process so far. In a normal cycle you'd be preparing yourself for the transfer, but as we wouldn't be doing that so it kind of felt like waiting for an even longer wait.

I'd originally planned to go back to work on the Thursday, figuring that would give me plenty of time to recover from the op and would give me something to focus on, but by the time Thursday rolled around I was still walking as though I was about 80.

The cold I'd caught had me coughing and sneezing so everything was feeling uncomfortable, not only from the op but also from feeling pulled each time I coughed or sneezed. Sitting upright was pretty uncomfortable so I spent all my time sort of slouched down with my jeans unbuttoned, or wearing jammy bottoms. I was a very pretty sight and I spent most of the time knitting because all of my other hobbies (playing on the computer, letter writing, colouring in) all required the ability to sit upright or hunched over and that was just not happening!

I spent the whole day on Thursday in a state of nervous tension because I was convinced we would get the call to say they had all arrested. In a normal cycle, if they weren't doing so well in the incubator, you might get called back to do a Day 3 transfer. In a freeze all cycle this just is not an option.

In hindsight they probably didn't check them until Day 5 because there was no need to. They were confident that with ten embryos we would have something on Day 5, even if we did lose a number of them. Ten is a fantastic number to be going on with and there's bound to be a drop off along the way. But that didn't stop me from being nervous and jumping every time my phone made a noise!

On Saturday I really wanted a lie in and, despite the fact that the hospital said they would probably be calling in the afternoon, I insisted on us getting up early just in case they phoned.

Once again I was a big ball of nervous energy. I struggled to settle to anything and kept trying to find ways to distract myself. I'd sit next to my phone for ages, despite needing the loo, just in case we got the call.

And then as the day wore on without a phone call I started to panic.

The Embryologist had told me on the first call that if any of them were a little slow to develop then they might let them go on into Sunday before they attempted to freeze them, just in case they needed another day to catch up. So as lunch time approached, and passed, I started wondering if perhaps they were all really slow and they were going to phone us on Sunday instead. Perhaps none had made it and they saved those phone calls for 4pm (I don't know why, I think all sorts of crazy things when I'm anxious about my Bubbles).

I had a pretty comprehensive meltdown about this to Mr Click shortly before 2pm. Went back through to the living room, sat down and the phone rang.

My hands were shaking so much I almost hit the hang up button instead of answering.

The Embryologist confirmed who she was speaking to and immediately said 'first of all, it's good news', then went through all the details she needed to take from me before she could actually give me the good news. My first thought was 'phew! We must have five!'

Then she ran down our numbers, like we were on Top of the Pops or something: 'You had 19 eggs collected. 12 were mature. Ten fertilised. And you have nine fabulous embryos!'

I think I repeated 'nine' a couple of times because I couldn't quite believe it. I also felt a tinge of sadness for that little tenth one which didn't make it for whatever reason. It's kind of a silly thing to focus on because we've got nine but I still feel sad for the little one that didn't make it.

The Embryologist went on to let me know that all nine had been frozen for us, but also that she'd checked them against our last embryos and they were all better quality that what we had before! This is a massive deal. Our best one last time was the first one we transferred and was graded as a 5BB (they're given a number from 1-6 which is their stage of development, 6 being the highest; the letters denote the inner and outer cells and are graded from A-C). 5BB is good but that means that these must be 5AB/5BA or higher. I'm so hopeful that this means we're going to get a sticky one this time.

What was lovely was that I could tell how happy the Embryologist was on the phone. I guess they sometimes have to phone with not so nice news, letting people know they have no embryos or that they're poor quality, or that there's nothing to freeze. Letting someone know that 90% of their embryos have made it to Day 5 for freezing, when last time only 57% of them made it that far is probably a pretty nice call to make.

So that's where we're currently at.

I'm half hoping that someone at some point will ask me how many children I have so I can say 'none yet, but I have nine in the freezer' because these are the jokes that you make when you have IVF treatment and you're waiting to defrost your future children.

Because we've got to wait.

I can't believe we've been waiting two and a half weeks since then already. The time has both flown by and dragged. Hopefully in another couple of weeks I can start playing phone tag with the hospital and trying to arrange defrosting at least one of the little guys.

And then the angsting can start all over again. Will I respond to the drugs properly? Will my lining be alright? Will they thaw? Will they continue to expand? Will they implant? Will it stick?

I'll let you know how that goes when we get there.

Wednesday, 8 March 2017


... a bleeding hand.

It's entirely my fault.

I was lifting Fezziwig out the big cage to put him into the small cage, only to have him struggle to get back into the big cage. Normally if you hold Fez tight he'll stop the struggle, but this time it just made him struggle more. And ratties can have pretty sharp claws, so I got scratched.

It's a good job he's so cute.

... to walking.

We had lovely weather on Saturday and Sunday but I didn't get out at all, which I felt really guilty about. What with the stims, the op and then the cold/virus/flu I just wasn't up to walking for a long time and each day I could feel my chances of getting to Lothlorien slipping away.

So Sunday night I made the decision that I was going to walk on Monday morning. And walk we did. Since Monday I've been managing to get out morning and evening with Tara and I've been doing roughly 1.5 miles so as long as I keep this up I'm still on track to finish on the 31st of December.

And I've been able to see an old friend again too:

It's Billy Big Pig.

He's not actually forgiven me for abandoning him for over a month though. Both times I've been up to visit him he's had his nose stuck in his dinner and despite looking up and snuffling at me, I'm losing out to the food right now. Hopefully in another day or so we'll be on speaking terms at the gate again.

... Welsh.

And doing pretty well at it too.

I'm using Duolingo and I've joined a club on the app so I'm in direct competition with other Welsh learners. Within a couple of hours of joining the group I'd worked my way up to third in the rankings and since then I've climbed to first place. I'm terribly competitive and I have no intentions of relinquishing my top spot, so it's definitely keeping me motivated.

What've you been up to this week?

Tuesday, 7 March 2017

Books 30 & 32 of 2016: Serpent Tide by K.L. Fogg & Saucerers and Gondoliers by Dominic Green

The books I'm reviewing today were both ones which I grabbed from my Kindle. Both came to me as free Kindle downloads on Amazon (I regularly scout out the freebies and download them while I can but don't often get around to reading them very quickly). They'd been on my Kindle probably since I got my first one way back in 2012 so last year I decided that the time had come to give them a go.

In Serpent Tide by K.L. Fogg, a young rich boy named Wesley Vandergrift lives with his highly protective mother in a mansion. Everything is provided for him but he is deeply unhappy, especially as his mother won't allow him the pets he desires. It's his greatest wish to be like his TV hero Jack Mackey, a sort of Steve Urwin character.

When Wesley meets someone who knows Jack everything starts to unravel and Wesley learns that he might not be who he was raised to be.

I'll wholeheartedly admit that I picked this book up because of the cover. It was in the Children's & Young Adult's section of Amazon and the cover image reminded me of the illustrations from A Series of Unfortunate Events. I'm a big fan of those books, and Brett Helquist's illustrations in general, so I added this to my virtual bookshelf.

I was kind of expecting a fantasy book with a cover like this. It is not a fantasy book. It's set in a thoroughly non-fantasy setting, but I felt like it required an equal measure of belief suspension as a fantasy book because everything was just so convenient. Imogene's money got her EVERYTHING! There were a very high number of contrived coincidences. I suspect that it wouldn't bother a younger reader but it frustrated me no end.

I also don't feel like the religious stuff really added anything to the story. There was a character who I think had been raised Catholic but had converted to Mormonism and she occasionally made comments but I don't see why that needed to be there. She could have been Jewish or an Atheist for all the difference it made to the story. It felt like a convenient way to explain why her family didn't get on with her but it wasn't necessary.

I read afterwards that the character was added in to help get the story published (with a Mormon publisher, I suspect) and that this is the author's religion also. I think if that was the angle they wanted to go down then they should've committed to it fully and made it an actual key part of the story, or just left it out all together, rather than the way it was done where it came across as an afterthought.

I'm sure that younger kids will lap up this series, but I don't feel the need to read on to the next book.

I followed this up by Dominic Green's Saucerers and Gondoliers. A little while ago I read another book by Dominic Green called Smallworld which was an interesting look at the sci-fi genre, with a hint of Terry Pratchett to his style.

This is the first in the Ant and Cleo book series. The two main characters happen to stumble across a flying saucer in the middle of an English park. And so it transpires that there's actually been a top secret space colony out in, well, space, for many years. The kids end up there embroiled in an intergalactic war between America, Britain and the United States of the Zodiac.

I couldn't help but be reminded of Terry Pratchett's foray into sci-fi writing in The Dark Side of the Sun and Strata. I did enjoy the start of Saucerers and Gondoliers but (not unlike my attempts at reading Sir Pterry's sci-fi offerings) I struggled to keep my focus when I was reading as the book went on.

I don't think this was just me though. The book began very strong but it seemed to wander a bit in the middle and I couldn't help but struggle to follow what was going on after that. The general idea was a good one though and I enjoyed the premise.

I did also like that fact that the hidden British space colony was called Gondolin. I felt like that was a little nod to Tolkien fans.

It has a fairly open-ended resolution which I guess allows it to follow on into the next book in the series. I think there are at least four of them in the Ant and Cleo series. But it's unlikely that I'll be picking any of those up. I have to admit that I kept falling asleep reading this one which was probably a combination of trying to read too late at night and also struggling to follow the story.

That said, Dominic Green's books are fun for a bit of lighthearted sci-fi escapism, so are probably worth picking up if that's your kind of thing.

Monday, 6 March 2017

The (First) Call & A Big Decision

After our egg collection and the news that we had 19 eggs, I was hoping for an easy night because I wanted to be up early for the call from the hospital to let us know what we had to work with. Of course eggs don't equal embryos or babies, so you're still having to spend some time in that limbo that's so familiar during IVF treatment while you wait to find out how the next step of the process has gone.

Immediately after the collection, while I was recovering, getting my shiny new Flow Book For Paper Lovers as a gift from Mr Click, and we were travelling home, a highly skilled professional was washing Mr Click's contribution to our future and stripping the outer cells off of my eggs. Once this was done they would be able to see how many mature eggs we had and for each egg a single sperm would be caught (they immobilise the poor things by whacking their tails!) then injected directly into the egg.

After this they're left in an incubator overnight to be checked the following morning to see if fertilisation has occurred. It's a bit of a nerve-wracking time because things could go either way at this point.

We were having ICSI treatment at this stage as opposed to traditional IVF. The difference being that instead of letting things happen 'naturally' with the eggs and sperm being allowed to get it on in a petri dish, we knew that none of our IVF eggs fertilised last time, so we're using the more invasive method. I was cautiously optimistic that since we had a very good rate of ICSI fertilisation last time that this time would be just as good. But there's no way of knowing until you actually get the call.

Last time we got the call at about 10:30am so I was expecting a similar time frame for the call this time. We planned to be up at 9am to allow us time for a bit of a lie-in. It was much needed because I had a pretty terrible night's sleep. I was uncomfortable from the egg retrieval and in my fragile state I had caught Mr Click's cold so I was snuffly and sneezy and coughy all night (which did just about zero to make me feel more comfortable, as you can imagine).

When we got up and made our way through to the living room (our phones don't get a signal in the bedroom) and I discovered I had a missed call from around 8:30am. I immediately felt like the worse parent in the world, not there to answer the phone when my potential babies were there in Glasgow and their babysitter was trying to get in touch with me.

Luckily she phoned back very soon after we got the message and it was with really good news:

The Embryologist let us know that of the 19 eggs collected, 12 of them were mature and suitable for injecting (immature eggs won't fertilise so they don't inject those ones). By that morning ten of them had successfully fertilised.

And so we had a choice to make.

The original plan had been to freeze everything we had on Day 1 (that day) but we had so many embryos that we were being given another option. We could allow them to grow on to Day 5 (blastocysts) and freeze them then. There's pros and cons to both options.

Freezing on Day 1 would mean we would know we had ten embryos, but we wouldn't know what quality they were. They could be potentially fantastic embryos, or they might not make it past Day 1. From what I understand they also use a slightly different technique for freezing them at that stage. When we came to use them they would defrost roughly half of them and try to bring them all on to Day 5. The bonus would be that if it looked like they were struggling we could do a Day 3 transfer.

The other problem with freezing on Day 1 is that they only have two cells. When an embryo is thawed it can lose cells and losing a cell when you have only two is pretty problematic (though an embryo can regenerate its cells). By Day 5 they can have 30-40 cells so losing a cell is less of a big deal.

Of course, taking the embryos to Day 5 isn't without its problems as well.

One thing in our favour was that we had successfully taken embryos to blastocyst stage before. The risk was that last time we'd been on alert to go in for transfer on Day 3 if they had started to struggle; this time that wasn't an option because we couldn't do a fresh transfer. So you could leave them all to grow for five days and end up with nothing at the end of it.

The pro to going to Day 5 is that it allows the Embryologist to identify the quality of the embryos. When they are only two cells there's not much to go on so they are (in her words) 'freezing blind'; they might be great or they might not, the only way to tell is to let them grow.

Mr Click and I hadn't really discussed this too much beforehand and there was a bit of pressure to make a decision with the Embryologist on the phone (I don't doubt that if I'd asked for a little bit of time we could've called back a short while later to let her know our choice). I'd kind of made up might mind of what I wanted to do while she was explaining our options, but of course they're Mr Click's embryos too and I needed to let him hear the options and have a say in what we did too.

So I laid it out for him and he straight away came to the same decision as me. We had to give them a chance to get to Day 5. It would be heartbreaking to lose any of them, but it would be more heartbreaking to freeze them, go through all the process for a frozen transfer and then not have anything to work with. At least letting them grow for five days would allow us to know where we stood (more or less, since there's still the risk of the thaw failing) by the end of the week.

With that I gave the word to the Embryologist and rang off.

And it was time to wait a little longer and wonder if we'd made the right decision.

Saturday, 4 March 2017

The Egg Collection Saga: Day 3 (Part 2), Monday 13th February

I left off on Thursday with Mr Click and I going our separate ways; him to do his bit of the whole process and me preparing to meet with the Anesthetist before my op.

The Embryologist took me along to the Post Op Waiting Room. This is where you wait both before and after your op. There was one other woman waiting in there who was off for her egg retrieval before me. Up ahead of us at the end of the ward was another woman as well.

There was a rather awkward wait. The other woman in the waiting room bit and I exchanged glances but neither of us spoke. One of the nurses did come along and make a comment about the two of us sitting there in silence, in a valiant attempt to get us talking. But I think we were both too nervous about what was to come to strike up a conversation.

The wait was broken up by the Anesthetist coming along to run over the details for my sedation. It was relatively straightforward since I've had it done before. He checked that I'd not had a reaction to a sedative before, went through what the process would be (a line put into the back of my hand, two different drugs would be administered and that it wouldn't take too long to come round from it afterwards), and he also checked my mouth just in case I needed a full anesthetic. Since I broke the bottom off of one of my front teeth and had to have it reconstructed with a white filling, I told him about that and he made a note.

He told me that he's only ever knocked one person's tooth out and it was one which was already lose, they just didn't tell him about it, but he felt horribly guilty when it happened.

A bit of chit chat and then through for some more waiting in the waiting room. The woman ahead of me was called through to the ward and I saw her in her dressing gown heading out through the doors at the other end, off for her retrieval.

It seemed like a really, truly long wait when in reality it was less than an hour, but I couldn't help but worry a little bit. My belly felt really full and heavy and I was convinced that I was ovulating and would lose all my eggs before they could get in to collect them.

Then I was moved up to the ward, into my little cubicle. I was given my gown to change into, put on my pink fluffy dressing gown and unicorn slippers, and then sat to wait for the next bit. I could hear the first woman on the ward, who was in recovery, chatting to one of the nurses. She'd gotten nine eggs and by the sounds of things she was an egg donor. Part of me was thinking that nine eggs was a good number, but the other part of me was hoping against all hope I would get more than that especially as we were going to be freezing everything so I wanted as much to work with as possible.

A little more waiting and a trip to the loo (which I was glad of because despite only having a tiny mouthful of water, I had realised I was getting kind of to the point of needing to pee). And then the woman who had been ahead of me was wheeled back into recovery.

Being the nosy person that I am, I was listening out to see if anyone mentioned to her the number of eggs that was retrieved. Part of it is because you can't help but compare yourself to others ('if she got ten, then perhaps I'll get ten too') but it's also because you're rooting for the other people going through what you're going through ('did they just say three? oh, I hope she got more than three'). I didn't get to hear though, for one thing, they'd had to use a full anesthetic on her so she was still out of it and also because that was when I was called through for my turn.

I paused outside the door to theatre to put on my sexy hospital hat and to shed my dressing gown, then was ushered in to the room.

It looked much as I remembered it. White walls with lots of metal trays dotted around. Big bed thing in the centre of the room. And a hatch in the wall to the left hand side that I was guided over to.

Back when we met the doctor and the embryologist I was given a card with both mine and Mr Click's details on it. At every step of the process there's a lot of checking your name and your date of birth so they can make sure that Mr Click's sperm and my eggs are the ones being paired up. At the hatch I handed over my card which would be scanned into the system so everything retrieved from me would be tagged as being Click produce.

Then it was over to the table.

There was a sort of puppy training pad on the edge of it which I sat on once my gown had been unfastened at the back. Then I lay back, put my feet into the stirrups and someone took off my slippers. I was complimented on them and there was a fair bit of chatter going on around me as things were set up ready to begin.

A woman stuck on some heart monitor things on my chest (which I didn't realise were still there until the following day when I took a shower and they are now stuck to the side of my craft drawers because they're kind of a cool souvenir of the day, since I've not yet been able to bring an embryo home with me).

Then it was time to say hi to the anesthetist again as he tried to get the canula into the back of my hand. I'm pretty brave when it comes to having things stuck in my veins, but this one really hurt. I ended up with a woman holding my other hand and chafing it between hers, chatting to me the whole time, which I was grateful for because getting that needle in was really uncomfortable.

I'd got a mask on my face by the time the first lot of stuff started to go in. I was warned it might make my arm feel a bit funny but I can't say it did. It did make me feel like the head of the bed had suddenly dropped and I was going to tip off it head first. But then the next lot of stuff started going in and I don't remember anything else after that.

Until I was coming round in recovery.

I remember feeling pretty sore and uncomfortable but I also had that sensation of trying to catch just a few more seconds of sleep. It was such hard work to open my eyes that it was almost easier not to bother. Then I kind of remembered where I was and what was going on and I thought 'I need to know how many eggs I got' and forced myself awake.

There was a nurse sitting beside my bed and I wish I'd made a note of her name because she was just fantastic.

The first thing I asked was how it went and she told me straight away that it went really well. I felt kind of shaky when I came to so she got me an extra blanket and I took a peak at the notes beside the bed to see if I could see how many eggs I had. I couldn't but it did say that I was extremely sleepy when I went back in to recovery. The nurse also asked me how I was feeling and I promptly burst into tears and said 'a bit emotional' but it was cool, she was on hand with tissues.

Then it was time for tea and toast, but as I was waiting for it the doctor came, which is what I'd been waiting for all along. I'd been told by the doctor when I came round before but part of me was nervous in case they couldn't say anything this time. I needn't have worried. I got 19 eggs, exactly the same as before. I'm nothing if not consistent.

After a little while I was allowed up to get dressed and Mr Click was brought through to meet me in the Post-Op Waiting Room. It was wonderful to see him again, even though we'd only been apart for about three hours.

I wasn't allowed to be discharged until I'd peed which was tricky because all I'd had to drink that morning was a mouthful of water and some tea. Once I'd satisfied the nurse that I was able to pee I was allowed to have the canula in my hand removed. And promptly bled all over my sleeve and trouser leg (thank goodness for having a change of clothes in the car).

And then it was home to recover. I was so relieved to get back to my own bed at home.

Friday, 3 March 2017

Introducing Pocket

At last!

Poor Pocket's been waiting for his blog introduction for a couple of weeks now but I kept on putting it off. I feel bad as though he's been sort of forgotten. Trust me, though, you cannot forget Pocket.

He's my Pocket-rat (quite literally, the very first time we got him out he climbed into Mr Click's pocket and took an extended nap), he's Pocky Rat, my Big Squish, and the Wet Noodle Rat.

He's a gorgeous little Himalayan marked rat. When we first got him he had the faintest little grey marks on his nose and bum which are fully dark grey now. His nose markings stretch up his face towards his eyes and forehead, like he's wearing a little mask.

It's less noticeable now that he's grown but one of his eyes is actually slightly smaller than the other. I did a bit of research when we got him and it can be a common defect (for want of a better word) in dumbo rats (Pocket's a dumbo cutie). It's actually caused because his eye socket on one side is smaller so the eye there is smaller too. He's the only one of the four with pink eyes too, so his eyesight isn't great. I think that's why he's less inclined to jump than his brothers.

I'm fairly certain he was the first ratty to come out of the cage when we picked up the boys and he's been a 'people rat' ever since. He's the one who will come up to the front of the cage to talk to us, he wants attention all the time and would be perfectly happy to snuggle up next to us on the sofa or bed all day if we were to let him.

That photo above is from the day after we got him, when Pocket climbed out onto my lap, curled up on my arm and fell asleep. He was totally zonked out. It's hard work being this cute!

Pocket and Fezziwig are sort of polar opposites in our Mischief. Where Fezziwig is a muscular chunk, Pocket is a squishy noodle. The other boys have some muscle to them which goes sort of rigid when you pick them up; Pocket, on the other hand, sort of sags. He's a floppy rat who is perfectly happy to be picked up.

For the longest time he would climb when we moved them into the big cage. He very rarely gets into the hammock with his brothers (it's a notable occasion when he does and whoever spots him in there has to call the other to come and see, it's that unusual). We have a shredder bin in the bottom of the cage which is Pocket's bedroom. He took almost a week before he would venture up to the first shelf (though he did climb up the bars on the first day, he just didn't actually go anywhere) after we first moved them in to the grown up rat cage.

Now that he's three months old, he's actually one of our biggest boys. He's as big as Fez and I can see him getting even bigger still. He's sort of the oddball of our Mischief. He often snuggles up to Dodger and he regularly plays games of chase with Jingle. You'd think they hate one another from the way that they squeak and flip one another, but it's actually all one big game for them.

He's a tricky rat to get a good photo of though. For one thing, he's still in that speedy young rat phase (one minute he's got his nose in Mr Click's ear, the next he's dashing across the bathroom floor, the next he's pouncing on one of his brothers, the next he's heading back up onto Mr Click's shoulder). Plus he's which which means the flash tends to blow out many photos of him. But I'm gradually filling up my Instagram with photos of Pocket sleeping in all his weird and wonderful ways:


He definitely keeps us entertained!

Thursday, 2 March 2017

The Egg Collection Saga: Day 3 (Part 1), Monday 13th February

On Monday I posted about our rather long journey into Glasgow and eventual check in at the hotel the day before the egg retrieval op.

Monday morning was a VERY early start. We had to be at the hospital by 7:45am and although we were about ten minutes down the road we were aware that we would have to negotiate city traffic and bits of road we weren't familiar with, so had planned to leave the hotel by about 7am.

I think the alarm went off at something ridiculous like 5am. In hindsight this was far too early. I'd gotten a bit hot in the night so I took myself off to the bathroom for soap and shampoo-free shower. Strong scents like perfume, deodorants and other toiletries can affect your embryos so you're not allowed to wear them to procedures at the hospital. I was convinced that I smelled sweaty and that the medical staff would all be talking about how gross I was while I was unconscious, hehe.

I was also nil by mouth that morning. Not even water was allowed to pass my lips. So I made Mr Click make a cup of my peppermint tea and then while he drank it, I sniffed it! It smelt lovely. The early start and the nerves about what was to come meant that I didn't really miss breakfast at all.

I'd already packed my hospital bag the night before, so there was quite a lot of just waiting around before it was a realistic time to check out of the hotel. The drive to the hospital was smooth as well, apart from the slightly hair-raising bit of the journey where we got onto the motorway at one junction, then had to cross four lanes of traffic to come off at the very next junction on the 'wrong side' of the motorway.

Once we reached the hospital we followed another couple to the ACS Unit. We were there before the staff and one of the nurses let us in, even though we were a wee bit early. We couldn't even check in at the desk because they weren't actually ready for us.

The waiting room filled up very quickly. As we're always there for appointments around 9:30am or later I kind of forgot that the clinic actually runs appointments from 8am. I started to panic as all these people came in because I couldn't see how they were going to get through eight or nine egg collections that morning! Then a woman strolled in with hair and make up all perfect and massive fake nails so I knew she wasn't there for egg collection and I realised that perhaps some of the others weren't either.

I was right.

The nurses started calling people in for scans or blood tests or whatever and soon a couple were taken through to the other waiting area. A few more minutes passed and then it was our turn too. I was quite pleased about this because after a couple of days when my full ovaries had gone quiet, I was starting to feel very full again.

There seemed to be less waiting around this time compared to last time. I know last time around I was about fourth on the list, whereas this time there were three of us having egg collection.

First up Mr Click and I were taken to a little couples waiting room. We're very familiar with Waiting Room 2 (we've used Waiting Room 1 before as well, but Waiting Room 2 is our usual haunt with its friendly little daisy picture on the wall). First up we saw the doctor who went through the procedure, risks and things, then got us to sign our consent forms. It was here that I was finally allowed a lovely sip of water and two tasty paracetamol to help ward off the oncoming discomfort.

Next up was a visit from the Embryologist. She walked us through the Freeze-All protocol explaining that what would happen is that day our eggs would be collected and we would have ICSI done on all mature eggs (that's where the sperm is injected directly into the egg, rather than letting them find their own way there as in conventional IVF). The following day they would then let us know how many we had, then they'd be frozen and in a couple of months time, depending on how many embryos we had, they would thaw about half of them and let them culture on to Day 3 or Day 5 (you might be noticing that this is slightly different to what actually happened, I'll come on to that in a future post).

Then she said to Mr Click that she would take him away to do his one and only bit in the whole process (aside from hand holding, transporting, feeding and general looking after, of course). She stepped outside to give us a moment together but Mr Click was raring to go and I actually had to call him back to get a kiss and a good luck from him!

I sat alone for another couple of minutes and then I was taken away to await the third and final meeting of the morning; the Anesthetist.

Wednesday, 1 March 2017


... in laundry.

My pets are out to get me.

I've got a fairly good laundry routine but since I spent last weekend actually dying, there wasn't a huge amount of laundry done. Mr Click helpfully put on a load for us on Sunday and so we started to claw back control. Until Monday when Fezziwig helpfully threw a spanner in the works.

I let the Mischief run around the bathroom while I shower. It's a fairly well-contained room so they can run and play and chase to their hearts' content and I don't have to worry about losing anyone. Except Fezziwig has learned to climb. A couple of weeks ago he ended up on top of the toilet cistern!

While I was in the shower, he decided to jump up on top of the toilet brush and holder. It wobbled for a fraction of a second, I realised what he was doing, barked at him just as it started to topple then Fez, the container and the loo brush fell over. We keep some bleachy water in the bottom of our toilet brush so that promptly spilled out all over the floor where four crazy rats (who were just recently introduced to the Fishing For Peas game) were having a ball.

I flew out of the shower, dripping all over the floor, fending off ratbags from the rapidly moving puddle and grabbing a wadge of toilet paper to mop it up. It quickly became clear that the paper was good for absolutely nothing in this situation so, still pushing away rats coming at me from all directions, I grabbed the bath mat and mopped it up with that.

So that then had to go into the wash.

It's all okay though, a slight delay on my catch up on the laundry, but I can cope with that. Until a Tara-related incident meant that the throw on our bed also needed to be washed today. The other laundry is going to have to wait another day or two to go in the machine.

And at least there were no ratties or labradorks injured in the making of this laundry!