Fuck Me, What A Year

 Well my lovely Bloglets,

As I have been so shit with this blog for a couple of years now, I thought I'd do a yearly round-up.  For those of you who are lovely and care, and to prove I'm still here!

Well fuck me.  WHAT A YEAR!  2020.  Who would have thought?!?  All in all, I can't complain. I'm fine. My friends are fine.  My family are fine.  I think I had 'Rona but I wasn't very ill.  I just had achey legs and was very tired for a few days, but they are my fatigue symptoms anyways, so who knows?!? It was also before everyone who sneezed went to get a test, so I'll never know.

The one arse has been that I was meant to come off treatment in November and can't until Spring.  I was so fucked off at the time, but on reflection, it was the right thing to do. It's also given me time to do some functional medicine tests to see what's going on with my hormones at a much deeper level than the NHS blood test, a hair mineral analysis which to be honest I am a bit dubious about.  The test did get one thing bang on, but some of it really doesn't represent my lifestyle, and the doctor I had the consultation with didn't take my meds into consideration, so, the jury is very much still out.  I have also done a test to look at all the omega ratio's which is interesting and actually reflects my NHS blood cholesterol blood test and also shows me some other stuff so I can help correct things.  All of this means that I'm taking 13 different supplements a day, which is costing a fuck tonne. But.  I am focused on helping my body after a battering of chemo for the last nearly 14 years, and adult life stress and all the rest of it.  And I want to only have one round of IVF next year.  So it's worth it. And for those of you who think supplements are bullshit and quackery (as some lovely person said to me on twitter this week before I blocked them),  there are GPs and Pharmacists who recommend them.  So there.

And on baby stuff, I didn't write about it on here because I wasn't ready for people I know, and potential family members to read it, as I thought I was pregnant a few months ago.  I"m pretty sure I was and it just didn't stick, which is so common, which has also given me a kick up the arse with supplements.  It is also highly likely that it wasn't me, but the sperm.  Did you know that 60% of miscarriages can be due to the sperm, NOT the woman?  So men, if you want a baby, and it's not happening most of it can be up to you.  So part of me was very sad that I wasn't as it would have made everything so much easier, but it has also given me time to get life shit sorted before starting fertility treatment in the early Spring.

It also still looks like it will be me on my own doing it.  I really hope not. I would love it if it happened with the man that I've 'not been in a relationship' for the last nearly 3 years.  But if it's not, I'm at peace with that.  I will do this regardless.  Anyways, I've ranted about this before.

Back to this year. Well I'm still 'not with' the man.  He did admit that we are 'seeing each other' not long ago. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.  And when I got my elephant tattoo, he sent a text to my father saying what is it with girls with tattoos going out with men with vans? (He has one for work).  So anyways.  Read what you will into that.

So I got my elephant tattoo!!!  Managed to get it in between the November and current lockdown. No. It's not tier 4.  It's lockdown. For fucks sake.  To remind me to be strong and to keep going. As I do.  They are my spirit animal.  They make me so happy.  I don't know why.  They just do.  They are amazing.

And when Christmas was canceled I got stuck in tier 4 as I had clients to see in person, who yes, I am legally allowed to see, and I wasn't going to bail on them last minute, and until today, I was going to be on my own, but I will now be with man and hound which will be very nice. It is going to be a fucking weird Christmas though. Not going to lie.  I think we will, probably like most of the country, have our family Christmas in the Spring.

Work has also been good this year. I'm so fucking fed up of seeing most of my clients on zoom rather than in person, but.  It has meant that I have had many who I wouldn't ever have seen de to location if it had been in person, so that's a plus.

And my jeans of doom STILL FIT!  So I think that's a WIN. Hopefully, they still will next week... I did manage home exercises for about 3 weeks and then life took over and energy levels crashed, so I'll pick that up again...

I'm not going to lie, this year has had its difficulties. Its ups and downs,  Going back to my parents for lockdown 1 and not spending it with the man and hound was incredibly hard and hurtful. To be told you aren't wanted and to go back to your parents is not nice.  But that was before I mentioned baby stuff and a true end for us if he's not the father. So it's been different since the end of June when I came back to London.  As always, I am ever hopeful.

This year has also been a year of lasts.  My last birthday on my own, my last Christmas on
my own.  My last year being 'the single one' in the family. Because if everything goes my way next year, and it really fucking should after all the shit I've had to deal with in my life.  This time next year, I will either be heavily pregnant or with a newborn.

So with love and hope,                                                                                                                               XxX

The Baby Diaries Part 1

 Well it’s been fucking ages. I know. I’ve neglected this blog. Mainly because I’ve been writing for an American blood cancer site and they (understandably) want unique stuff. And I can never be arsed to write the same thing, differently enough, to post on two different sites. 

I’ve also lost my writing mojo recently. I basically haven’t written anything since December. 

So a whirlwind update of the last 18 months. Well. I’m still alive 😂. I’m still on chemo and I’m still tired. But. The chemo is much better and the fatigue is dealable (yes that is a word) too. But the best thing about this chemo is that my results have been AMAZING, around 0.004% for the last nearly two years so I am OFFICIALLY allowed to come OFF TREATMENT in November. But. Because of fucking ‘Rona, it looks like it will be the spring because there might be a second spike blah blah blah. 

Unlike many in the blood cancer community I couldn’t give two fucks about ‘Rona in terms of fear/shielding etc as my health is good and my immune system (other than not dealing with my cancer when it started, lolz) is epic. So I’m not at risk. Anyways. Bit of an arse having to wait until spring because I’m going to have a baby and I would rather give birth pre-36 than post 36. And yes I know I’m mental and I’m still young blah blah blah. But I wanted to have my first baby my 30. So I’m feeling my age. 

I also have a lot of medical knowledge about pregnancy and birth which doesn’t help when I FREAK OUT about being an older first time mother. 

So today the ball started rolling. I had my first fertility appointment. All went well. Being booked in for blood tests and a scan to see if I’m fertile and how my reproductive organs are. I have no idea if chemo has fucked them or not. But it’s ok as I have 17 eggs frozen from when I was 22 which I can use if my fertility isn’t good/I’m infertile/actually why am I even thinking about it?! Eggs aged 22 or eggs aged 35 after 13 years of chemo. No brainier! What a fucktard. Anyways. The point is, I have options. Which is nice. 

And I can hear you all shouting. BUT IS THERE A MAN IN THE PICTURE?!?!?! Well. Sort of. There is a man who I love and who loves me. But. Me being me. Is it straightforward and not complicated? No of course not!!! So we shall see. He’s older and convinced he’s too old. I did tell the consultant today there is a man but thinks he’s too old at 51. And the consultants reply. ‘That’s no age at all!’  I could have kissed him through the screen. (Because basically all appointments are remote at the moment). So we shall see. 

I will do it on my own though with a sperm donor if I have to. I’m not letting this opportunity go past me. Ideally it would be with the man. But this is too important to me to not do it just because he’s freaked out about his age. I’ve waited 13 and a half years to come off treatment. And it might be 14 by the time it happens. So I’m grabbing it by both hands. 

Hopefully I can be off treatment for a long time. It all depends on what happens with the leukaemic rate. I’ll definitely be allowed a year for the baby. There is a drug I can use in pregnancy if I have to. I’m doing loads of naturopathic stuff to help my body. So I really hope I get more than a year. 2 years would be a dream. Or longer. 

But as long as I get my baby, or babies. God. It could be twins. Well. At least I wouldn’t need to go through it all again for a sibling! Anyway. I’ve wanted to be a Mother since I was 10. Maybe before that but I just wasn’t aware of it. So 2021 is the year. Fuck. It’s mega. It’s terrifying. It’s exciting. It’s surreal. 

I hope it’s with him. Well. I always hope don’t I. Got it on me permanently. Maybe that will be the baby’s name if it’s a girl.

And now I need to go and cry.