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Saturday, 14 July 2012

I just don't know what to do with myself.

A few years ago, after lots of trips to doctors and hospitals, lots of poking, prodding, scanning, jabbing and pain, I was told I would never have children naturally. PCOS, endometriosis and general unexplained nonsense combined to make me fully infertile.

I think it was four days after being told that I would need medical assistance to have babies that I fell pregnant with Jellybean, aged 24, 5 months after meeting my now husband. Which was a bit of a surprise. 

After Jellybean I had the magical, glorious, wonderful months and months of feeding him and not having a period - then when it came back I had to decide what contraceptive method to opt for. I went for the mirena. It was fitted terribly, it was agony, constantly, and I bled for months. 

The week of our honeymoon it finally felt a little better, the pain was less, the bleeding stopped. It turns out that it had dislodged - which we realised when I got pregnant on honeymoon. Which was, to say the least, a little unexpected. 

So when Jellybean was just 22 months old we also had a tiny Midget Gem.

The first pregnancy was pretty rough towards the end - I had terrible pain in my pelvis and my hips became very loose, I swayed painfully when I walked, and giving birth to a 9lb 9oz baby who is facing the wrong way is pretty difficult - so the rather forcible assistance I got from the midwives caused some fairly nasty damage to that whole pelvis area. 

I was still seeing the physiotherapist when I got pregnant the second time. By 8 weeks I was struggling with the pain. At 11 I got crutches. By 17 I was housebound and I spend the last few weeks in a wheelchair after the midwife watched me through the window take ten minutes to cross the room when she popped over for a surprise visit. A consultant visit led to a c-section just before 37 weeks pregnant (and a healthy 8lb 12oz monster baby!)

I had some quite intensive physio after the c-section and had a support belt for months. I asked there whether it would be wise to have another baby. "Don't even think about it, unless you think it's ok to not walk again" was basically the response. 

I struggle with this. 

This time when the time came to think about contraception I went with the pill. I bled for five months and turned into Satan. So I stopped taking it. 

I am now opting for "GET OFF ME" as a method of avoiding pregnancy. 

I don't want more hormones messing with my own. I don't want a coil, because I don't trust it. I don't want the patches or implants, they are the same hormones as the pill. I don't know what to do.

I think the only real option for us is steralisation - for one or both of us (you know, just to be sure, look at our track record!) but we both balk a little because I'm only 28, he is only 30. That's pretty young to say 'never ever again'. 

Only I also know I don't want to be pregnant again. I mean, I do, it is amazing, but I don't want to be in a wheelchair, wondering whether I could ever get out of it again. I just starting running again - there was a time we wondered if I'd ever be able to. I can wear heels again. That was a big no no for many months after having my boys. 

I don't want to go through the pain, the fear, of all that.

But I do want more children.

We've spoken a lot about fostering and adoption, and are both keen to look into those areas in a couple of years. I would love to adopt a child or two to join our family, but wonder how it would work, and whether we'd be allowed, whether we would ever succeed. 

I don't know what to do. Do I bite the bullet and get my innards knotted up? Do I make him? Do I stick with "GET OFF ME" and hope for the best? 

There are only so many answers

Jellybean has been talking about his willy a lot this week. 


Like when he was in the bath and washing his 'bits and pieces' and laughing, because we call the brio train track 'pieces'. Then he said that there was a ball in his bottom. Then, gleefully, that he has TWO BALLS in his bottom. We explained that all men have a willy and two balls and that's what their bits and pieces are.


Jellybean said he likes balls, because they are fun to play with, and that he likes kicking balls, and asked very politely if Daddy wanted to kick his balls?


Then we had a chat about boys bits and girls bits, and how we should never kick anyone in their bits and pieces. 


The next morning Jellybean popped in to use the loo whilst I was showering; this led to yet another chat about where my willy has gone.


I keep trying to explain that ladies don't have willies, they have front bottoms. Then explain that the front bottom isn't for poo. And then I had to explain that no, I hadn't washed my willy off in the bath, and it was nothing to do with being kicked. 


Jellybean still thinks the whole idea is HILARIOUS. Almost as hilarious as the look on Daddy's face when Jellybean marched into the room, dropped his pants and shouted 'LOOK Daddy, my willy is BIG and STRONG!'


Oh my!

Sunday, 8 July 2012

Silent Sunday


Visitors visited

This week some visitors visited - the best friend kind, plus additional family.


My super brilliant best friend Mollinda and her sister came, along with small human Baby A, who is AMAZING. 


I have spent my evenings all week laughing ridiculously hard at very, very silly things - things like grumpy boobs, mipple meep, banoffee pie and bad murders.


I love my friends - and Mollinda gives the greatest presents!



She is also a super brilliant awesome artist - these photos are not great quality, but her drawings of us are! These are going in frames and being added to the Molly Wall where other things she's drawn or painted for me are.