The "I'm-too-lazy-to-think-of-a-title" post (34 weeks)

Well, it's six weeks to my due date; and whilst I am technically using my holiday hours up between now and Christmas, to all intents and purposes maternity leave has begun.  A is currently in Ireland for her sister's wedding and I am sitting in an empty flat, surrounded by newborn clothes and terry squares (not even born yet and all this washing!)

This week has passed by in that strange fashion of being both too fast and too slow, that anyone who has been in the position of 'use-your-holiday-hours-or-lose-them,' will be familiar with.  Days are mostly filled up with daily walks into town to stay limber (with lattes at the end, as a reward - decaf, of course) coming home to laundry and emails, wandering about the house doing nothing in particular and then in bed by 9:30 (mainly because I wake at 2am most days and can't get back to sleep)

At the start of the week, I was staying with my brothers whilst mum was at a wedding (so many in November) and I finally told them about the baby.  I arrived late to the house on the Thursday night and mum called my brothers into the front room saying there was something I would like to tell them.  When I said I wasn't sure where to start, my stepfather suggested I start where I was and go from there.  "About eight months, then?" I tried; immediately J, the older of the two, looked up at me with the beginnings of a grin.  M, I had to spell it out for, since he wasn't able to make the connection.  Like a number of children on the Autistic spectrum, M sometimes has difficulty with big changes but he took this news quite well, asking questions and thinking of activities he could do with his new niece once she's born.  J was obviously trying to play the cool teenager *insert eye-roll* but was actually quite attentive to me all weekend: sitting in the front room with me when he would usually skulk in his room, fetching drinks and snacks for me at regular intervals.  Lol, I called M over to feel baby kicking one evening, since he'd expressed an interest, and even though he didn't look up from his x-box game, J subtly shifted closer, just waiting for an invitation to take his turn.

My sister was with us for the weekend too.  She actually surprised me with the amount of interest she showed, not really being a baby person herself.  I think she may have bought up an entire branch of Mothercare, the number of vests, socks, muslins, and tiny two-piece outfits she presented me with on arrival.  She's always said that pregnant bellies freak her out (lol) but she seemed to be okay with my tiny bump.  I think it may have made a difference that I always turned away from her when baby's movements were becoming more visible and that because I've always taken care to stay hydrated and keep my skin moisturised*, I still don't have stretch marks.

At last appointment with the midwife, baby and I are both doing well.  My blood pressure is back up into 'normal' range, baby's heart rate is perfect and the fundus height (basically a measurement of the uterus, taken from top of the uterus to the pubic bone) is just right.  I was asked the usual questions for this stage of pregnancy: daily movement (oooh, yes!) swelling (nope) have we started a birth plan? (first draft done and it's getting reviewed regularly) anything else I'd like to talk about?
...Well, yes.  I've recently started wondering if the large itchy rash that I've been struggling with for the past month (that is slowly driving me crazy) could possibly be polymorphic eruption (some people may still know it as PUPPS)  Apparently, the midwife was stumped by that one.  She looked it up and agreed that it did sound like polymorphic eruption of pregnancy, which typically presents in the third trimester of first pregnancies, but that she'd never seen it before.  She says that if it's bothering me, I should talk to my GP about it. I'll see if I can get an appointment on Monday.
The last point we covered was that baby had not turned head down yet.  At this stage, it's not a big issue but the midwife says that if baby hasn't turned by our next appointment at the start of December, we will need to book in for a presentation scan to see what she's up to.  (I happen to know, based on her daily movements, that the little madam is still turning cartwheels in there; so it can't be obstruction.  She just doesn't feel like it yet.)

*in case you are interested btw, I've been using Cussons Mum and Me Bump Stretch Mark Cream twice daily, since week 20 - around the time my bump started to show and my skin first started getting dry and itchy.

Getting into the flow (24 weeks 6 days)

And wonder of wonders, we have a bump!

I discovered the evidence of an expanding tummy earlier this week.  Feeling hormonal from work stress and lack of sleep, I turned to A looking for love and sympathy.  Well, what I actually did was walk out of the bedroom, moaning "my zipper wont stay up.  I'm getting faaaatttt!"
And A - my wonderful, sensitive, loyal partner. The woman I plan to spend the rest of my days with and raise children with.  The love of my life - replied: "Don't complain.  You wanted a belly and now you have one."  Hands up.  Who can spot the clanger that set the hormonal pregnant lady off?
(For the record, A did later apologise and offer cheesecake in penance)
But to add insult to injury - later that day, the button holding up my trousers flew off and I was forced to suffer the indignity of asking the boss if he had a spare safety pin.

For the rest of the working week, I've had to make do with a pair of trousers from home that still fit me.  The maternity trousers our company provides are clearly designed by a man: they are basically regular size trousers with a ginormous non-elasticated waistband.  Even with the understanding that I'm going to get bigger, I think it's pretty clear by now that I'm never going to reach those proportions.  And even if I did, I would still want an elasticated waistband.
So far, it's only my work trousers that I have had to give up (thanks to a life-long preference for 'boys fit' clothes, I have plenty of room in most outfits) but as time marches on, I'm planning on buying belly bands to make my regular clothes last a bit longer.

In other news, we had an appointment with the midwife (W) on Tuesday.  We had to breeze through things as we had arrived late but we did get to hear baby's heartbeat for the first time.  We're starting to figure out that now she has full range of movement, she really doesn't like being spied on and will do everything she can to make it harder to check in on her.  The minute the Doppler hit my belly, she was twisting and turning cartwheels and kicking at the source of her frustration with everything she had.  We all had a laugh at how stubborn she could be.  Eventually, we got to hear a few moments of healthy heartbeat that satisfied W and left A and I in tears.
During that whistle-stop appointment, we had the usual urine and blood pressure checks, and W asked about fetal movement.  For the moment, all that is important is establishing that there is some daily movement, which we get plenty of.  Baby has recently graduated to hiccups, which means that she has started breathing and swallowing amniotic fluid in preparation for the outside world.  She gets them a lot and seems to blame me for them, as I get a tiny foot in my gut right after each one.  My blood pressure has changed from booking in: from 110/72 to 98/62, which is healthy but slightly low which may mean I'll be feeling light headed and/or dizzy and may lead to passing out.  This isn't a problem.  I've had periods of low blood pressure on account of my one kidney for as long as I can remember.  W (and mum) recommend I avoid taking long, warm baths on my own for a while (which is a shame, as it's something I've always enjoyed. Still, safety first.)
We also asked again about transferring to the birthing centre and were told that it would have to be reviewed further into third trimester (which is just around the corner!)

Here Comes the Sun

It's getting late and I'm sitting relaxed in the 'study' with a cup of tea, having put aside the sheet of irregular verbs I've been working on.  The flat is quiet - presumably the lodgers have gone out to eat - and I'm enjoying the moment of calm before A comes home from class, when bags will need unpacking, a fresh pot will need putting on and something will have to be done about dinner.

I've lost count of what cycle day I'm on, I believe it's thirty-five or somesuch, and since we started actively trying, this is the closest to relaxed and contented I have been.  I know that may change if this journey continues for a more prolonged period but right now, this home is balanced and happy.  This is the happy thought (rainbow) I'd like to give thanks for tonight and I'd like to send some positivity from this to everyone who needs it.

We've decided to put off testing until the weekend, when A doesn't have to get up at silly-o'clock and I can wait until a reasonable 6/7am to test with her there.  It makes sense to wait the extra couple days, since I tend to start bleeding two or three days after a negative result anyway; and in the last couple of days, I've been experiencing the dairy cravings and bloat that usually presages my period.  Whether the extent of my cravings - driving me out of the house right before dinner because the world will end if I don't have cheesecake - is reasonably explained by my being pre-menstrual, we shall have to wait and see.

Spring has sprung

Moving into Spring this week and life has taken on a strangely comfortable flow.  I'm susceptible to weather-triggered mood swings and with the mad-March weather, we were prepared for the usual irritability.  These last couple weeks however, I don't know if it's to do with the changing work situation or just the change in season but we've started feeling more like we've been coasting along, calm and contented.

During the last week, the wheel of the year has turned to spring and Oestara, the spring equinox, marked the change in season.  Among many other things, Oestara is a celebration of fertility, and I especially felt the need to connect with Goddess at this time.

A and I don't practice the same faith, though we take an interest in each other's beliefs, so I celebrated Oestara alone.  I walked the longer route into town, following the quiet cycle path that is bordered by trees and other plant life and just generally enjoying the evidence of Spring.  Eventually, the path lead into a wide grassy park where children like to play.  Oestara is a celebration of new life and childhood and those who celebrate the Goddess may choose to focus on her maiden aspect at this time. There was a time when I would celebrate this season in unabashed childishness - skipping, running, singing childhood songs - but instead, I chose to just sit and listen to the young children in the park and reflect on happy childhood memories and the memories A and I hope to create with our child/ren.

As I often do, I integrated my Oestara meditation and personal celebration ritual with baking cupcakes this year.  Baking always puts me in mind of happy times in my childhood and I love how well it expresses the creative energies of the new season.  I made some of them into butterfly cakes (just a couple though, diet and all...) and outlined little ducks and bunnies in green and yellow icing on a few others.  It made such a happy sight and our home smelled wonderful by the time A came home from work.

In other news, this try has been relatively symptom free; and with a testing date of Tuesday and no sign of the monthlies, this could really be the magic cycle.

Begining the home stretch

A belated happy valentines to those who celebrate ♥

A and I kept it low key this year in the interests of saving money for our various projects.  We still made it a pleasant day, proving that it really doesn't matter how much you spend as long as there's love at the heart of it.  On the day, I cooked us one of her favourite meals for lunch, made some cupcakes and cleaned the flat.  I had just enough time to call R for a quick chat (because Valentines is about love of all kinds - even friendship) before A came home from work.  Turns out, she'd saved some coupons and put aside a few pennies to take me out to dinner at a nice little restaurant down our street.  So we had a great time of it.

Yesterday, one of my cousins announced the birth of their new baby son.  It was a bit of a surprise, as we hadn't known she was pregnant but the pictures they posted on FB are gorgeous and we're looking forward to meeting the little lad.

In other news, both A and I have appointments for the next stage of our job applications, having received e-mails notifying us that we have been short-listed.  A already works in the NHS, which is how we heard of the vacancies, and she already performs many similar duties, so we feel confident about her chances.  One of A's supervisors heard of her application and seemed pretty supportive - if a little disappointed that A would no longer be working on her ward.  I'm glad that A has one less thing to worry about, should she get the position she has applied for.  I still haven't a clue how I would tell my line manager.  Have to cross that bridge when I get to it, I suppose.

This far into our tww and we're amazed at how long we've gone without obsessively plugging every twinge/craving/emotional moment into Google.  I've had some aches and tenderness but we're choosing not to ascribe it to anything at the moment.  We'll be testing on Thursday, which is coincidentally also interview day.

10 days down...

It's a little over halfway through the two weeks wait and we've succeeded in keeping ourselves occupied.

At the weekend, we visited A's sister (who is now officially two weeks overdue.) As is traditional for us whenever we fly abroad, it started with a near-tears moment of stress. We had made it as far as the check-in desk when I realised that my printed boarding pass was in fact paperwork for our Peruvian Christmas. Ryan air is really strict about having your boarding pass with you when you check in.  It was either pay £70 (twice what the ticket cost) to have a new one printed or call the new lodger and ask him to drive across the city with less than an hour to spare.  In the end, we appealed to the young assistant manning the customer service desk. We got our boarding pass printed on the sly and then after all that excitement, headed for Starbucks - where, I regret to say, I succumbed to the siren call of caffeine. It wasn't the last time that weekend that we broke our pact to reduce caffeine, either.
We were only there for a day and two nights but it was nice to be spending time with family. They even took us out to a nice bar on Saturday night (my virgin mojito was made with lemonade, which I hadn't tried before. It was pretty good)

I've been trying to reduce my stress levels recently, after a friend pointed out that I was having some pretty near-miss catastrophes at work from being too distracted by other stresses (To be fair, that's more to do with the fact that our store breeds stress. On Monday for example, a cage of frozen delivery didn't get put away within it's allocated time and we lost nearly £100 of ice-cream - guess who had to answer for that) I'll admit that I may be wound a little tightly at the moment. Maybe it's that I'm aware of this try being the last until after the new year and I know it wasn't much of a pitch. Maybe it's that we're getting closer to our Peru holiday and I'm getting nervous about meeting A's parents - given that I'm the first girlfriend they've met (that they know of) - whilst they're still wrapping their heads around the idea that their daughter is gay. I don't know. I just know that on Tuesday, I was so wound up that I messed up making macaroni, resorting to straining the roux where I hadn't had to in years. I had a good cry over that; then pulled myself together before A came home. I even managed a giggle, as thoughts came to me of how close we had come to re-creating the scene from the 'Little Women' sequel, 'Good Wives,' in which poor John arrives home with company, unaware that his loving and dutiful wife has made a real wreck of the kitchen trying to make jam and is ready to blast anyone who dares ask how her day went.

And last night, we had a room change around. The new carpets that we have been bugging the landlord about finally arrived whilst I was at work.  When I arrived home, A and vecina had switched furniture between the living room and the lodgers' room. So now they have the bigger room but we have a private living room - which is better all round as I think all parties were starting to feel the strain of sharing that space.
A new wardrobe that we had arranged for the lodgers came a few hours afterwards but it had to be sent back, as it didn't so much resemble a wardrobe as a large box.  The fixtures were all missing.  There was a solution though(!)  When the alternative arrived, I had taken refuge in our new living room (which at this point still resembles a rubbish tip) and I could hear the guys trying to manoeuvre the wardrobe up the stairs from halfway across the flat. A told me later that it was clearly too big for the narrow stairway that leads up to our flat.  Did that stop four grown men from trying though?  This falls under the category of 'you can't tell men nuthin.' After ten minutes of trying(!), they decided between them that the best course of action was to take it apart and re-assemble it in the room.

Today is, thankfully, a day off. I had all weekend off, Tuesday off and a (slightly) less stressful daytime shift yesterday but I am still ridiculously grateful for a whole day to unwind. Between the mild nausea, cramps and breast tenderness coming on we can either expect a positive test next week or a particularly unpleasant period.

In which there is a day, an insemination and absolutely no reference to Henry Fielding

8:30 am, 11 November

Signs it's going to be a good day

* The radio greets us with Bon Jovi and the playlist just gets better from there
* More ewcm than I've had on any given morning in the last six months.
* The new lodgers are on their way out for work

- Sorry, if this is graphic btw but it seems to be the case that whilst you're ttc, you're so focused on the many amazing things your body is doing to prepare for baby that you sometimes forget that not everybody has the same endless fascination for mucus and follicles and linings.

14:00

A flurry of cleaning, a warm shower and then a cup of tea whilst waiting for A to get home from work. Nothing left to do this evening but pop in a movie and pour out the (non-alcoholic) mojitos.  R confirms he has finished class and is en-route.
-the new lodgers (vecino & vecina) return from work

22:30

After talking all evening and enjoying a fabulous dinner cooked by my very talented partner, R does his manly duty and heads home, leaving us to get down to business with the goods.  I should mention at this point that the bed we're currently using (whilst waiting for a new one to arrive) is a large bunk with a 'study' underneath. Every movement makes the bed sway and creak. The lodgers are in the next room. There were rounds of creaking, shushing and intermittent giggles but we got the job done. We even discovered that the bed is the perfect distance from the ceiling for me to prop my legs up and check out the pretty colours A had painted my nails for the occasion (she'd made me put my socks on as soon as they were dry and made me swear not to look)

So that's it. Our only insem attempt for this cycle. The Hail Mary Pass.

Wishing and hoping and praying

Due to Scheduling conflicts, we missed this cycle's O date.

Along with monitoring basal body temperature (bbt) and cervical mucus (cm) we've been using ovulation test sticks from around day ten of my cycle.  This cycle, there was no faint build up to the results line; one day the window was blank, the next it was a strong line. R, the donor, and I have some pretty tight schedules this week but he's going to try to meet us at the flat tomorrow. It seems a little like locking the barn door and all that...but at least it's a try.  For me, at least, the cycles we don't get to try hurt that little bit more than the negatives. Now we just have to figure out how to distract the new lodgers from the length of time R is spending in the bathroom. We've also been in contact with the group who cast our fertility spell at the start of summer to arrange a re-casting and hopefully a boost for our last try of the year (We'll be abroad for a month over Christmas and New Year, so we'll be skipping the December cycle and possibly January, depending on timing)

Things are a little sensitive at home with the impending birth of our nephew (A's sister's due date is this week) Either way, we will be visiting next weekend. A couple days in Ireland will be a pleasant change of scenery and maybe a nice distraction during the TWW - if we pull it off tomorrow.

And on it goes....

Halloween. The date we had chosen as test day for this 'magic' cycle. And although my period has come and gone, we are in a better place than we were at this point after last time. There's still a strange sense of suspended time hanging over the house though. It's like when you know there's rain coming - even when you have no need to leave the house, you still keep looking out the windows and wondering where it is. I keep looking at the cupboard thinking 'that period was pretty light/short..' I know how ridiculous it would be - taking a test after my period - but it's almost like I'm missing the closure of that negative.  Funny, that's what it was like waiting for my period last time. Maybe I need them both to make it real.  Managed to hold off taking it anyway.

Thinking of using the instead cup for next attempt although we're still debating weather to wait until after the new year to try again(not wanting to risk long-haul flights if I do get pregnant in the next couple cycles). Will continue to think these things over and distract ourselves with research.

In the meantime, Happy Hallowe'en to all who celebrate

Hallowe'en is coming...

It's been a week since our 1st insem of the cycle and we're feeling a little less stressed about this try, which is a good thing as work has chosen to pile it on again. 'Symptom'-wise, it's been pretty minimal: some forgetfulness, increased appetite, moments of queasy-ness and, the one that I find most intriguing, itchy breasts. I'm not counting the mild backache at the moment, despite the fact that it started at about the same time as the queasy-ness. A is off work sick at the moment and I was helping her to move furniture out of the back room in preparation to letting it out.

There's some mixed feelings about letting out the room: the extra money pays half our rent and would leave us free to save more mad-money for our Christmas holiday visiting family in Peru. In a two bedroom flat, it is also quite awkward arranging times when our donor can pop over and we can feel comfortable inseminating without being disturbed by the sound of someone else moving about (although, if I am pregnant this month then this point is mute)

The thing is, I've always been a bit possessive about my space and whilst I'm trying to be a bit more open minded about the idea of a stranger in our home, I'm still not quite as comfortable with it as A is. This is not made any easier by the fact that we had to ask our friend to move out following an incident involving smoking inside (I am vehemently opposed to living with smokers - even if they smoke outside, it still comes in on their clothes and sits in the soft furnishings) We'll just have to see what happens when the first person comes to see the room later today.

Couldn't finish on a negative note, so I'll include some happy thoughts here: babies, rainbows, kittens, Ben & Jerry's phish food (which we've recently re-discovered), winter evenings spent in front of the stove with cocoa, long walks in quiet parks, leaves turning gold, Re-runs of Hocus Pocus and nights at the theatre.

Time I came out

Okay, so here it is: my big confession.
I'm a power rangers fan!

It may seem trivial to some but this show has had a huge impact on my life.

Pre-teen, I didn't exactly have a wide social circle. My class seemed full of loud, boisterous boys and the stereotypical 'popular girls' that I just couldn't understand. I took to reading to keep myself occupied during break times - yes, it didn't help my social standing but as I may have said before, I struggled with anxiety when I was younger and being invisible was far more preferable.

Then Power Rangers started airing. Far from being about heroes in brightly coloured costumes and cool battle robots (don't get me wrong - these were a serious draw too!) it was also about 'teenagers' growing up. The episodes covered issues like learning styles and economic barriers as well as relationships, work, friendship and dedication.

As I moved into primary school (Not familiar with U.S systems but I think it's elementary at age 7/8) I spent a lot of time in the group of boys my student mentor hung out with - and I quickly became popular for my memory recall of power rangers battles and would often be consulted in the middle of games. Hey, I may not have been an 'it' girl but I had found my way in.

As later seasons aired, I was even able to see myself in certain characters, taking their successes as inspiration (not to mention that I developed my first crush on an actress who played a recurring role in a couple of series)

I even sharpened my writing skills over the years by expanding on episodes that left more to the imagination. (Yes, fan-fiction. Everyone has to start somewhere) Through the social networks on which I have published these works, I have met many wonderful, funny, talented people (a number of which I have since come to call close friends) who have taught me to raise my game and look at things in an entirely new way.  I was amazed at the number of LGBT identifying people who use fan-fiction to express themselves (and by how much more sense some of the story lines would have made if certain characters had been gay, for example)

What has prompted this today, you ask?

Today is the twentieth anniversary of the show's first broadcast and I found this:

David Yost poses for NOH8 with a prop version of himself

This is even more cool when you know that David Yost, who played shy, socially awkward genius Billy on the show, was forced to leave the cast due to continued harassment by the production crew that targeted his sexual orientation. Whilst one of the producers later responded that his departure was due to a pay dispute, his outside reasons for leaving the show were never denied. Saban Entertainment never issued an official statement on this issue.

/fansqueal

CD 3

We had to let go of that last thread of hope on Wednesday morning.

I've been sleeping a lot the last few days: getting up at 8, taking three hour naps at least twice a day and so glad to get to bed by ten that it's starting to alarm poor A. Thing is, I've felt my energy falling since Saturday and now I just don't have the energy for anything more than light to moderate housework (and only out of necessity) A insisted we get an appointment at the health centre on Wednesday just to make sure it's not a sign of anything physically wrong with me before we try again.

It doesn't help that ever since a work mate was diagnosed with type two diabetes in the spring, she's started getting concerned over any diabetes-like symptom she observes in me. Part of me feels special at how much attention she's showing and in the interests of household peace, I went to the appointment.

As you can guess, once I mentioned that we had been TTC (because it's always relevant) I got the stress talk.  I'm booked in for bloodwork at the start of September but until then I just have to find the energy to keep going with daily life.

On Thursday, I got sent home from work after almost passing out.  I'd forgotten my uniform (something that never happens to me) and whilst waiting for a spare shirt to be dug out, I started getting dizzy and had to sit down.  Having a long history of passing out in public, I've learned to hate those moments of loosing control.  As it was, I must've looked pretty rough because the manager offered to pay from petty cash for a taxi (and it had to be one of the bigger ones to accommodate my bike) It was bad enough that I did this in the office with every Tom, Dick and Harry looking in to see what was going on. The crowning glory came when the manager escorted me himself through the store and to the taxi rank - ten feet from the entrance!

It may not seem so but I used to really struggle with anxiety.  The worst thing anyone can do when I'm not feeling my best is draw attention to me. I felt so weak and shaky, just from having everyone witness this that It only seemed to confirm to C that I needed fussing over.

And we confirmed yesterday that R is abroad for the first two weeks of September.  Unless we stalk him to Spain, it looks like we'll have to sit this one out.

I've taken today off as well, since I failed to keep my dinner down last night.  To be honest, I'm hoping it's just stress. Stress and I are old friends and I know his habits.

So the plan for this month is exercise, eat well, hopefully drop the three or four pounds I've put back on and relax with friends.  Here goes ...(?)

All those little things

So here it is. I am officially moved in with A.
It's taken a long time for the last box from storage at my parent's place to make it here but I finally opened it last night. It was the hardest one to open, as this one contained my china baby doll.  I know it's silly to get myself worked up at this - and once we start the tww, it will probably pale in comparison - but fresh on the heels of a family birth announcement, in the week I expect to be ovulating...I had wine with dinner and cookies for breakfast. Screw the diet.

Well, actually the diet has been going rather well. I don't track my weight pound by pound - never have - but people at work have started commenting that I've lost weight. I guess in this way I'm lucky; I seem to have only the mildest form of most of the presenting symptoms of PCO. My weight can usually be managed by cutting back on the indulgences and only a little extra exercise (physical job and all)

We'll be flying to Spain on Christmas eve, to spend time with A's side of the family. I'm not sure how I'll manage being in such close quarters with our newborn niece.  Still, there is an upside to this: we'll be meeting with our potential k.d before Christmas. Hopefully, he'll have an answer for us and we can make arrangements or finalise alternative plans for our first attempt in the new year.

Venting, the lighter alternative to a venti

Had a bit of an 'up and down' week. Mostly down.

Whilst looking for a place of her own, a friend has moved into our flat.  She's paying a little towards rent and utilities and some of that is going into the baby fund but I'm getting frustrated with the changes that are happening because she's around. My folic acid supplement - with it's unmistakeable pregnant woman on the label - is hidden in a cupboard instead of next to the kettle (my first stop of the morning) and I'm taking it at random hours of the day, when she wont walk in - like I'm carrying on some illicit activity. The baby conversations have reduced drastically, as well.  At the start of the week, I was finding it difficult to handle the increasing evidence of a co-worker's pregnancy, and not being able to come home and talk about it the way I wanted to sometimes because J was in the next room was frustrating. I've been looking through blog archives of happy-ending pregnancies, trying to add some positivity to this situation and hopefully pick up some ttc stress relief tips (quite a few out there, btw. Such amazing, positive women)

My colleague miscarried (24 hours before news reached us of our team manager and his wife having their first baby) so emotions are running a little high at work and at home at the moment. Between that and another colleague's injury, there's only been the two of us to cover duty manager shifts in the evenings.  In the last week, I've been covering a lot of late evening shifts at work. Naturally, the store chooses to pile it on this week - from dangerous stairwells with no lighting, to produce delivery arriving twenty minutes before closing on a day when there's no available night-fill crew and I have to lock down completely. My caffeine intake has been higher this week than even when I was studying at uni. 250 mg a day may not sound like much to most people, but in my terms this is a binge.

And the cherry on the cake? A works morning shifts and studies three days a week, so I've seen her for less than an hour each day. I'm really missing her.