Boo! IF Hurts (if you didn't already know)

Yesterday was a bad day for me. I knew that it wasn't likely. But. Part of me believed. Part of me always believes. In the possibility. Had I partly convinced myself? I kept telling myself to expect my unwelcome visitor's arrival. I kept telling myself it's not supposed to happen this cycle anyway. Just forget about it. But some part of me never listens.

So when I awoke on Saturday morning with the first twinges indicating the impending arrival of AF (forever to be known on this blog as Ahhh F@*k and not Aunt Flo), I did something silly. Part of me thought no, no, it was meant to be Murphy's Law this month! It was meant to happen because it wasn't meant to happen. You follow me? So because AF hadn't actually arrived yet and I didn't want to believe it was on its way, I POASed. Pa-the-tic I know. 

(Not wanting to exclude anyone unfamiliar with IF abbreviations but POAS does not stand for some complicated medical term, it is simply Pee On A Stick. And when I say stick, I don't mean a brown wooden thing you find on trees, before you get a totally misleading and slightly disturbing picture in your head. I mean a pregnancy test stick.)

Why did I do this? Let me try to justify it a little so I don't come off too crazeee and desperado right now.  They were the familiar twinges, so deep down I knew what it was, but part of me never wants to believe it - so I picked up my one remaining test and thought. Why not? At least there will be no more tests in the apartment to taunt me anymore. Oh and by the way, this was the last of my eleven tests I bought as a pack when we first started trying over 15 months ago. De-press-ing. 

Of course it was a BFN, I am about to get my freakin' period, what else did I expect?? Well, going by my subsequent reaction, I obviously expected something else. Hoped against all the odds anyway. The deep trembling pain that you feel in your gut and then it rises and swells in your face, and all you can do is moan and cry it out - well, I did that for about an hour. Then I lay motionless on the sofa watching nothing in particular on the TV. We did have this amazing weekend away planned but I didn't want to do anything. Not even make breakfast. Mr. T finally convinced me to get out and took me to a beautiful spot to swim and have lunch.

The start of the day was teary but I soon found comfort in the cool water, the trees, the sun and being in his arms. We talked and talked it all over. My usual attitude would be: Tomorrow brings another cycle. Tomorrow brings another chance. Another time for hope. But. I am getting impatient. Disillusioned. Fed up. So. We decided we want to move up a rung on the TTC ladder. We want to try this next cycle with IUI (inuterine insemination). I call the Doctor tomorrow.

A Brief Moment In Time

This post has been inspired by Kate over at Impatiently Waiting. Kate asked me how I came to be living here in Marrakech and all the other places I lived before. So I thought I would fill you all in on the twists and turns fate sets before us, always leading us to places we never imagined we'd go (and that includes infertility too, I guess.)

I was born in England but moved to Hong Kong when I was three-years old. My father, an airline pilot, and been offered a job out there and it was a huge change for our family. But since me and my sis were so little, it just seemed like part of normal family life. Hong Kong became my deeply adored home and I still feel that that's where my roots are. I lived there for 23 years, I went to school there, made important friendships and got my first job there. It's an amazing place combining fast-paced city life with stunning natural landscapes. I was sure I would stay forever.

While in Hong Kong I learned Chinese but I wanted to be so much better (and be able to read and write) so I took a degree in Chinese and Law and I studied Mandarin in Beijing. It was a fun year. So many great stories. Like when I climbed an old spot of the Great Wall with friends and then ate chilli barbecued rainbow-trout that had just been caught from the river; or when we mistakenly went to a gay men's club and wondered why we were the only women in there; or getting electrocuted by the washing machine in my apartment (on a regular basis); or when I broke my foot and didn't realize it until days later when I could barely walk. Yes, good times, well interesting times anyway.

After graduation I was on my path, or so I thought. I had a job lined up with a high-flying law firm in Hong Kong and I was just about to start my final year of law school at Hong Kong University. Then I met the man who would become my Mr. T. He was just passing through, just for a three-day visit. But somehow through an amazingly serendipitous moment we met. It was like a lightening bolt. We both felt it. We spent an incredible 72 hours together, talking until the sun came up. And then he was gone. I missed him so much it hurt. I thought it was strange that I could miss someone so much when I hardly knew them.

What followed was a year of going back and forth to see each other as much as we could. He lived in the Netherlands and so it wasn't exactly convenient or cheap, but somehow we managed just seeing each other every 3 months. But it was hard. Every time we saw each other it got harder to say goodbye. We decided that going on like this wasn't an option and we needed to be together. As much as Mr. T loved Hong Kong, it was just too far away for work. Although he works from home he has regular meetings in Europe and the US and moving to HK would have been impossible. I knew that it was up to me.

Over that year I had been teaching at a local school to earn the money I needed to survive while I studied law in the evenings. As the year progressed it dawned on me how much I was beginning to dislike law and how I was falling in love with teaching. I was good at it. I loved the kids and they loved me back. It was the only job I ever had where I would go home smiling at the end of the day. I realized that I was on the wrong path and I needed to make the change.

New career path, new country. So I packed up my things, said goodbye to my home of 23 years and off I went. I had chosen a great international university in the Netherlands, where I could do my Masters and get more of a background in child development. And I could of course be close to Mr. T. 

I loved my course, I got so much out of it and I really grew as an individual and as a scholar. I graduated top of my class and won a 500 Euro prize for my thesis. I was on top of the world. But. Then. What? I wasn't really sure where to go next. As much as I had enjoyed my studies I did not like living in the Netherlands. I missed home so much. I often thought of going back. But what of Mr. T, who I was now engaged to. He could not make the move to Hong Kong. I was also having a dilemma on the job front. I was being encouraged to do a phD, I was even told by a prestigious school that I would be accepted without a problem, and I had a great professor lined up as my supervisor. But somehow I didn't feel ready. I didn't feel ready for years more of study with little income and freedom. When would we even be able start a family? I wanted to work, I wanted to start my life, and then maybe, in the future.. the phD would always be there.

Mr. T and I spent weeks agonizing over where to go, what I should do and how we wanted to live. Let's go to Morocco, I finally suggested. It's where you're originally from. It's beautiful, the weather is good, you can explore your roots and I can learn Arabic. Plus it's only 3 hours away from London/Amsterdam/Paris, it's perfect. Mr. T agreed. I applied for a teaching job in Marrakech and before I knew it we were packing up our things and making the move. 

It's been over two years since we moved here. We are so settled and happy now, we know we made the right decision. This is our future now. Sometimes we think back to what could have been, where we would be if we had made different decisions, but life is too short for what ifs and regrets. And now we have new dreams. And they are good dreams. We dream of building our eco-home on our land in the foothills of the mountains. We dream of our organic garden and eating our organic honey and olive oil. But most of all we dream of hearing the pitter-patter of our families tiny feet running through our home. Fate has dealt us a bad hand for this part of our journey, but we hope to overcome IF in time. We hope to bring our someday children up with an understanding of both my and my husband's cultures, a respect for their environment and speaking at least three languages!

In a tip of the hat to President Obama for yesterday's speech, I wanted to finish this post with these words - in the hope that they will echo and be heard around the world: All of us share this world for but a brief moment in time. The question is whether we spend that time focused on what pushes us apart, or whether we commit ourselves to an effort - a sustained effort - to find common ground, to focus on the future we seek for our children, and to respect the dignity of all human beings. Thank you for these words Mr President!

Daddy Cool

Or at least he will be. Someday. I have to say Mr. T is amazing with kids. He has such a large family that there have always been toddlers and newborns somewhere in the vicinity. I remember watching in amazement as this (then 20 something) man deftly picked up his 3 week-old cousin and held him happily - something I know I would have been nervous to do back then. I remember looking on in awe as the children clung to him, waiting to be swung around, climbing on him and shouting 'again, again!' And his face, totally consumed in the moment, a picture of complete joy.

It was one of the things that made me fall in love with him. One of the things that made me realize I was going to marry this man. And that one day.... well, that day hasn't happened as quickly as we'd hoped.

Here's some eye candy ladies. (Yeah fellow IFers, I mean the man not the baby!) It's funny but my husband and this man have nearly the exact same body type ;)

Part of my attraction to a man who is family-centered and loves being around kids is because of my own father. My father is one of those great dads. (I'm very lucky I know.) A man who delights in making children happy, who loves playing the fool. If he took us swimming he wouldn't be sitting at the side of the pool reading a newspaper. Not at all. He would be in the water with us causing mayhem, throwing us around or perhaps playing a game of 'what's the time Mr. Shark'. If he had a day off he wouldn't spend the time watching TV or having a lie-in, he would play hide-and-seek with us, take us on a walk or on a special outing. I have this picture of my dad which just sums him up completely. It was taken at my sister's birthday, he stands surrounded by 7 year old girls with huge smiles, and wearing different items of clothing from our dressing-up box and a blue punk wig on his head. You see he was always happy to play the fool.

Just from instinct I know Mr. T will be the same. And I feel so happy that our someday children will have those same joyful and wonderful experiences I did. So part of my aching for a child is also because I ache on behalf of Mr. T. I know what a cool Daddy he will be. And I so desperately want him to have the chance to be the fun, crazy, loving, firm but fair Dad I know he will be. 

Sending love and respect to all the cool Daddies out there, including those who are yet to have the opportunity to be the great Dads we know they will be. God knows we need more of them.