message in a bottle…

What happens when you hit a bump in the road (mind the pun)? What happens when things don’t go the way you hoped they would? What happens with the stuff you can’t control? Well when you’re a 37 y o control-freak Scorpian, you totally lose your shit, that’s what.

When I first felt a twinkle in my tummy 10 years ago I thought I had the motherhood thing down pat. First go and it was a goal, can’t be much to this fertility gig…it’s a bloody cinch. I was completely complacent. Yes well you know what mother nature likes to do with those who are smug? She smacks them in the face with fertility issues like a cold barramundi.

I’ve seen many of my close friends and family battle with their own fertility issues. I’ve lent a consoling ear and shed a tear for them on their horrific and emotional ride. Not for once ever stopping to think that one day I myself would be swimming up that fertility river in a paddle-less canoe heading straight towards the rapids of the unknown.

Yep it’s fair to say Lady Mama G hasn’t had the best few weeks. There have been some good bits and some pretty shitty bits too. The good – well I’m still breathing. Another good bit is I have the handsomest and most precious 8 y o son and a delicious husband who make me complete. The bad bits are I have finally (after months of attempting to physically harm my GP) been to see a specialist. Don’t even get me started on why you have to wait so long or I’ll be forced to use profanities that would make a sailor blush.

So I finally get to meet who, for now we’ll call Dr Babies, because I sure hope that’s what he’ll bring this little elf for Christmas. He’s a specialist and is known to be the best in town. He also has more letters after his name than the entire alphabet so I figure if anyone’s going to get my little egglings to hatch, he’s the man for the job (oh, and The Vet of course).

After doing a couple of tests he comes back with what I’ve long suspected… my eggs have shriveled to something resembling a cross between a caper berry and a currant and I seem to have the egg count of a 50-year-old. They’ve pretty much packed up their bags and moved town. No goodbye note, just shot through. Not such great news when you need those little eggs to hatch. His other good news was that he suspects I have endo. Four days and a few holes in my belly later, I get to wait till Monday to find out any more good news.

I know there are like a gazilion women who have endometriosis and it’s completely curable. I also know there are women way worse off than me but it’s the fact I can’t control this ride that I don’t like. I need things in order. I need things done my way.

But mean ol’ Mama Nature, she got different plans…seems I might be getting a little more acquainted with the IVF needle…and we all know how Lady Mama G feels about needles.

Suddenly side-splitting labour seems like the easy part…

Love n hugs, Lady MamaG xox