Why are you so tall, Miss Needle?

Why are you so tall, Miss Needle?

Because you have grown me in your mind. 

Why would I grow you in my mind?

Because you have a monkey living in your head.

That bottle of Suprecur over there – is he with you?

We’re a double act, Supreman and me.

So, what’s your act?

Supreman can control your pituitary gland!

Well, awfully nice meeting you.

But he’s powerless without me – mwahahaha!!!!

Gotta run, I left the monkey in charge.

The party’s at yours.

 I’m really very boring. Lights out at 10.30pm.

The three of us. 9.30pm. Your belly fat. 

Oh gord.


In the zone

Do you know what? I am a happy hippie monkey right now.

Our injections start tomorrow. At 9.30pm, we’ll be on our way.

All the relaxation is helping too. I’m loving my daily dose of chill out time. For once, everything else can wait.

I love listening to guided meditations, especially Suzanne Robichaud’s little journeys into the imagination.

I downloaded Zita West’s guided relaxation for IVF – three sessions of positive visualisation and relaxation therapy for pre-transfer, post-transfer and the two week wait.

I also do mantra meditations, repeating a word with no meaning, floating away into space.

Peace, man!

Pineapple power?

Mr Pineapple, what a funky fellow you are. Green Mohican, sunny skin – you’re a sight to behold and you know it!

Apparently, you’re more than just a looker. You’re loaded with bromelain, an enzyme which may assist implantation.

Well, hello!

This article recommends eating one slice of fresh pineapple per day after embryo transfer. They also suggest eating a small piece of the core, where bromelain is most concentrated.

And this article says to have a slice for the first five days after transfer.

Professor Wilson is whispering in my earhole, ‘where’s the science in all this, eh?’

Thoughts welcome.

Farewell, dear tea!

I was raised on brick orange tea.

There were the 6am cups, plonked down by my Dad on the bedside table – a brash morning call, which I came to love.

My Mum made trays of afternoon tea and cake. In winter, we lit the fire and we slurped and gobbled like delighted piglets.

Tea is love. Brewed with patience. Stirred. Tea bags squeezed. A dash of milk. Aaaaaaaah.

I’m cutting out caffeine, however, ahead of our frozen embryo transfer in May. I’ve gone and over-googled again.

It’s day two off my favourite drug – I’m coping by drawing colourful tea sets!

Sleepy Sunday = peaceful monkey!

10.30am: I wake up, look at my phone. Is that the time? Really?

11am: Twitter informs me that the clocks have gone forward for British Summer Time. That’s still 10 hours’ sleep – I’m impressed with my lie-in abilities.

12.30pm: Spa session at York Hall – a pre-treatment treat for the bargain price of £25. Steams, meditation, a quick sauna.

4.30pm: Back home. There’s a shaft of warm sunlight across our bed. I’ll just lie down for 10 minutes.

8pm: I wake up, surprised – that’s 13.5 hours sleep in 24 hours!

Beside me, the little monkey snoozes on, sleeping like a baby.

Open heart surgery

My doodle of the day is about jumping in.

I know an open heart makes me feel the most alive – and I do have a strong vision of becoming a mum.

Of course, my monkey mind likes to remind me about the evidence. Our doctors have told us the statistics – 30 to 40% success rate. Our fertility counsellor has gently prepared us for either outcome. I understand this isn’t as simple as going to the hospital and collecting new life.

However, beyond all the statistics and advice, I am clear.

I am a mother. I know this to be true.

Easter miracles

My heart is hopping like an Easter bunny! I read some miraculous news on an IVF blog I follow.

In this community, other people’s dreams and celebrations feel like mine. It is so good to enjoy the successes. It’s also wonderful to be there for each other in tough times.

Today, I choose to believe in miracles – for all of us.

I’m jumping in with an open heart to the final stage of my treatment. Next Thursday, the Suprecur injections start. Sometime in May, our frozen embryo transfer will take place.

I feel ready, inspired by the journeys of fellows.

What’s your IVF rollercoaster ride?

Build your own IVF theme park ride in three easy steps.

Step 1

Start with The

Step 2

Add the word next to your birth month…

  • January: Ovarian
  • February: Fertility
  • March: Eggy
  • April: Conception
  • May: Pregnancy
  • June: Baby
  • July: Uterine
  • August: TTC
  • September: Embryo
  • October: Hormonal
  • November: Injection
  • December: IVF

Step 3

Add the word next to the initial of your first name…

  • A-B: Bender
  • C-D: Loop
  • E-F: Escapade
  • G-H: Twister
  • I-J: Screamer
  • K-L: Mare
  • M-N: Whirlwind
  • O-P: Shaker
  • Q-R: Adventure
  • S-T: Howler
  • U-V-W: Intensity
  • X-Y-Z: Tornado

What’s your IVF rollercoaster ride?

Mine’s The Ovarian Loop!

Sounds quite fun. HA!

This post is dedicated to all my courageous IVF sisters and brothers – particularly IVF79 and IVF Keyboard Therapy right now. Hang in there xxxxxx


Love letter

Dear Mr Chocolate

You are helpful in this process.

Tonight, you visited. My fella brought you home.

It’s tempting, Mr Chocolate, to search for a reason why you’re good for making babies. I have Googled your properties, of course I have done that.

However tonight, I will say that the reason you’re good for me is because you make me feel good. We both know that I’m consuming enough greens and vitamins and other ‘fertility approved’ grub. I deserve you!

So, thank you little Green & Black’s bar. You bring a smile to my face and love to my heart!


Professor Wilson has been dropping banana skins in my path today.

His top five monkey concerns are:

  • Will you finish off all your work in time?
  • Are you sure you’ve got enough money?
  • Will you be a zen-like creative goddess when the treatment starts?
  • Can you remember how to do the injections?
  • Do you think the treatment will work?

That’s enough of your chatterboxing for one day, Professor. Life is a series of banana skins, let’s face it – we can either laugh about that or we can freak out.

So chill out, monkster. All is well in our little world.