You must be joking

Adding to my run of crap luck was yesterday and today...

Got on tube last night, horribly stuffy so opened the vent above me and was showered in soot. No one did anything but gape, no giggles or helping hands. Everyone just sort of stared and looked embarrassed.

Got home and realised my tax disc had run out on my car so went to get it out of car and saw wheel had been clamped. £100 fine.

Went up to flat, laughing at completely ridiculous time I'm having and saw my local cat sloping off down the stairs. He hates it when he's ignored and thrown out of the house, even though he doesn't belong to me. Not sure who he belongs to. Anyway last time he scratched me to death when I tried to shoo him out and the next day there was a poo on my "welcome" mat.

Mum told me to pour on black pepper because cats hate the smell. I did. It must have worn off because as I walked to my front door, parking fine in hand and speckled in black soot, there was a welcome home crap on my mat!!

Should I get religious?

Maybe I should embrace religion a little more because then I'll have an excuse to pray to someone. I'm supposed to be Christian and was brought up Church of England but I feel bad asking for Gods help when I only go to church 3 times a year!

The reason for wanting to pray is that I feel if anything else goes shit in my life I might possibly go insane and praying seems to be the only option I haven't tried.

Every year I say to myself "God (you see he does get a mention!) this year has been terrible. Next year will be my year.. I will find love and success and peace and be healthy and happy." One of those would be nice. Yet, every fucking year it gets worse, every year its shittier. Here's a little rundown of my crappy year so far (I'm hoping my list for 2009 ends here).

January: Pregnant. OH MY GOD. For 3 weeks.. overjoyed. Then it was gone, doctor said they sometimes just disappear. Sad.

February: Decide to get fit and healthy and save money in order to properly try for another baby although no boyfriend so would be a bit difficult. Lose 2 stone in 2 months. Yeah.

March: Economy shit. Lose job. Unemployed for 3 months. Bad.

April: Mortgage, credit card, loans all in danger of not getting paid. Can't pay them. Credit rating slips and all finances frozen. Still staying fit and healthy though as cycling and walking everywhere due to poverty.

May: Start drinking and smoking too much due to lack of work and general depression.

June: Summer in London is non existent so can't even get a tan while unemployed! Bum!

July: Spend birthday on my own up at our family house in Cumbria because my mum has paid me a pittance to do the gardening. Am so desperate for money I agree. Sad.

August: An old flame appears and whisks me off for a brighter future. Realise, after 12 hours he is still the same shit he always was and come home heartbroken. Work begins trickling in again. Good.

September: Go to a seminar about having a donor sperm baby as a single mother. Decide to do it. Very excited. Then get told the cost is £2,500. Oh. Realise in order to pay off massive debt from being jobless will have to borrow money against my house. I need £20,000. They give me only £6,000.

October: Find out good friend has terminal cancer at the age of 34 and has 3 months to live. Realise life really is too short and tell my friends I am going to try for a baby on my own no matter what. Get really crap reaction. Not many people think I CAN or SHOULD do it alone. My mother tells me its a really stupid idea. I feel crushed and broken.

November: Work picking up. Good. Friend has weeks to live. She is fading away in front of my eyes. Parents are told they cannot stay in their house. They have no money to live on so they need to sell it. They are devastated. Daddy is very unhappy since retiring. He feels he has no purpose and keeps talking about dying. Very hard to be around. Have flu jab to prevent flu. Get flu. Decide to quit smoking and get the most disgusting cough. Feel like absolute shit. Can't drink because get put on antiobiotivs because the flu jab gave me flu and then it turned into bronchitis. On antiobiotics for 3 weeks. Friend dies. I read at her funeral and after holding it together for weeks, suddenly fall apart. Once I start I can't stop and cry for almost 3 days. I can't drink because I know as soon as I have a glass of wine I'll want a cigarette and I've QUIT!!!! Get swine flu jab to prevent swine flu. Get small bout of swine flu. Feel appalling for 2 days. Go down to my sisters in Somerset to rest and get better. Get food poisoning and remain in bed for 2 more days. Decide I cannot have a baby alone. Emotionally, physically and financially I simply can't do it alone and with no support its just impossible. Nor do I want to do it alone. People tell me I'm brave to make the decision. I feel like a loser. Three close friends on the same day, email me to say they are pregnant. I am not overjoyed. Oh and to cap things off nicely... because I've stopped smoking I'm eating so now I've put on half the weight I lost earlier in the year. Shit!

December: Start praying.

In limbo again

I'm not sure what to do with myself. I have gone from visiting my friend in the hospice every few days and seeing her family and friends and all being together, to suddenly... nothing. Everyone has gone home to grieve in their own way and I want to grieve too but I don't know how. No one I know has ever died apart from very elderly relatives and I was too young to really remember that. I keep asking my friends if they want to meet and talk and cry and drink and everyone replies “no thanks darling, we are just spending some time on our own”. So I guess I'll do the same. I can't go out with other friends because it just seems wrong to enjoy myself but I haven't cried yet and I'm afraid if I spend time on my own I might start crying and never stop. I'll cry for my friend and then I'll cry for every other thing that is going a bit shit and I don't want to do that. I also gave up my social smoking habit so I can't do that. I can't have a drink because that will immediately make me want to have a cigarette. Ughhhhhhh.

It's all gone quiet

It all went quiet today when my friend, with cancer, died. That's why I haven't been on here much of late... we were waiting and sitting and talking and thinking, and this morning another friend phoned me with the news. We were all holding our breath, not sure of when or how it would happen but it's finally stopped and she's gone. It was peaceful. And I found out, from her Mum and Dad, that her favourite poem was The Owl and the Pussycat. I hope she can float away to the unknown too.

Maybe its the wind

Its windy in London, very sunny, very windy. Leaves are blowing everywhere and it feels good. I love windy weather... it always makes me feel as if something is about to happen. Something new and exciting and believe me, I need some bloody excitement in my life.

Having spent the last 2 days completely on my own, save for a horrendous shopping expedition to the local supermarket at 5pm on Halloween Night, I feel change is upon me. I will be me making that change myself, as I realise I can't keep waiting for things to happen to me, I've got to help out a little. This weekend was a huge reminder of just how much my friends' lives have moved on whilst my life for the last 10 years has remained.. yawn... pretty much unchanged. I bumped into an old neighbour on Friday and before they could get a word out I said "nothing to report, jobs the same, still no boyfriend, haven't been on holiday this year and thanks, yes, I have lost weight!"

Holidays are hideous when you're single. Its a massive slap in the face when you notice that EVERYONE else around you has parties to go to, or organise. In the supermarket on Saturday it was like Armageddon. Hoards of families wearing terry-towelling, stockpiling family packs of chocolate and crisps as if their life depended on it. I saw a tussle between a red-faced Adidas topped man and a skinny Arsenal bedecked oaf! They were fighting over some overpriced, plastic "life-size" inflatable, scary butler. I know, the mind boggles. On the front of the box was a picture of said butler next to a terrified child. I would be more terrified of either of the men! It took me a whole ten minutes to get my pizza for one and bottle of red wine and then an hour to get through the checkout. Truly an experience I never want to repeat!

So I suppose after that, I should have been thrilled to have the flat to myself and not have screaming kids running around but by 9pm, when no trick or treaters had even knocked on my door, God I felt lonely! Then to top things off, the flat opposite threw a huge party. I actually thought of gate crashing. I put make-up on and did my hair and then bottled it at the last minute. What would I say.. "Hi, I'm your tragically unpopular 41 year old neighbour, can I come to your party?" No.. too too sad!

So I polished off a bottle and a half of wine, watched awful television, did the washing up and a couple of loads of washing, spied on my neighbours' party with the lights off and swore loudly at the dog barking down the road (probably terrified by noise of kids and fireworks. Um, excuse me, note to all those idiots, its not bloody bonfire night until November 5th so stop setting fireworks off every night until then!) I was in bed by 11:30 and woke up at 9am on Sunday feeling utterly shit. Yes, you still get hangovers when you drink alone!

So, in conclusion, I'm going to make some decisions.

1. I decided to take the latest offer from my mortgage adviser which isn't the amount of money I've asked for, in fact its only £6,000 compared to £20,000. However, my monthly mortgage payments will go from £750 to £350... oh my god!!!! So I can start saving.

2. The baby decision is still on hold. I have to admit, more and more mornings I wake up and think "I can't have a baby alone. I don't want to have a baby alone." Now I have to weigh up... if I don't do it alone, I risk never having children.

3. My friend with cancer has her finally got her parents over from New Zealand. Thank God. Now, however, she doesn't want to see or speak to any friends. She hasn't returned my calls or texts for 4 days and I'm so sad about that BUT I have to be unselfish about this. Its what she wants. If she doesn't want to talk to anyone then that's just fine, I have to deal with that. I will just be there when the phone does ring.

4. I want to spend more time with my family. Spending time with my ill friend has made me realise, life really is too short.

Grrrrrrrrr!!

Am I at my angry time of the month? I don't think I am which makes me suspicious because I'm getting very cross about things.

1. My very sick friend who has terminal cancer is refusing to eat. She says "what's the point, I'm dying anyway!" Um, hello, the point is if you are going to commit fucking suicide, death by starvation is not the best way... it is slow and agonising, in fact probably worse than dying of cancer! She gave in last night and had a yogurt, whoopeee doo!

2. My mortgage broker left a message on my phone saying "Hello mate (I'm not his bloody mate, I'm his bloomin client.. don't get pally with me, it insinuates a guilty conscience!), sorry I haven't been in touch for a few days. There's nothing to report really. Just be patient and I'll call you at the end of this week with some news, hopefully. Well, I can't promise anything but fingers crossed". Thanks for the vote of confidence and utter professionalism!!!

3. I can't think about having a baby. Every time I do, I get an ear ache in my right ear (prelude to panic attacks) and can't sleep. Am I turning into a man where multitasking is impossible because I seem to be able to only think about one thing at a time these days. I don't want to be a man.. bits of it aren't attractive!!

4. I went back to my therapist, the one who costs £50 a session and was deeply unimpressed. It was if I had to re-cap not only who I was and why I had originally gone to see her, but also what I'd been doing for the last 9 months!! I actually got bored talking about myself after about half an hour (very unusual) and just went quiet. We sat at stalemate for a few minutes and then she looked genuinely worried. Usually if I shut up for a moment, there is only time for a few deep breaths before I start up again but this time I wanted her to show genuine interest and ask ME something! She desperately looked at her notes and sighed. "Well Juliet, you seem to be handling all this very well actually. Is there anything else you want to talk about?" I looked at her "Why do you think I'm having these panic attacks again?" I asked. She looked a little awkward and coughed. "Why do YOU think you're having these panic attacks again?" she asked. Check mate!!! So then I rambled on for another 15 minutes until she said we had about 5 minutes left and did I want to talk about anything else. "Well, my friends dying of cancer. That's a bit shit!" She looked horrified, stood up and hugged me.. she's never done that before. She opened her diary to arrange another appointment and I made some excuse that I didn't have my diary on me and I would call her instead. I think she knew. I had mentioned I had seen another therapist and she had been really helpful. We shall see. I'm going to give the Harley Street one another go and see what happens.

Until then I will shout at bus drivers, mini cab drivers, young hoodies littering and barking dogs. I will tut at anyone walking in my path and just stay genuinely a bit angry at life. I think it's healthy, a bit of rage now and again. Surely its better than drinking a bottle of Pinot Noir a night. Actually come to think of it....

Help

Well I have had to cry for help... in the form of my very very expensive therapist. I haven't seen her in over 8 months due to lack of freelance work and her £50 an hour price tag but needs must,. And although writing helps enormously, it just doesn't take the place of a human. A human that doesn't judge, doesn't advise, doesn't roll her eyes or sigh loudly. She just sits and gently nudges things out. And come out they do. I used to get frustrated with her that she didn't ask me more questions about what I was saying but by her staying a little quiet, I always ended up asking and answering the questions myself.

I originally saw her because I started having panic attacks around the time I turned 40 (hmmm funny that)! I would have these dreadful anxiety attacks anywhere I wasn't fully in control,. Mostly on the tube (well that gives most people cause for panic) or in enclosed spaces. Places where I couldn't leave without utterly humiliating myself. Places I had no control. I had to start sitting in aisle seats in cinemas and theatres just in case one suddenly came on, and I would have to leave quietly and try and breathe.

I wrote down over 2 dozen reasons why these panic attacks might have started, from the obvious (alone, 40 and single with no children) to the ridiculous (delayed stress 4 years after the 7/7 bombings). My therapist and I talked through them all and came to no particular conclusions. I even saw her husband for a hypnotherapy session... resulting in abnormally high references to wanting a golden retriever!! I do want a dog but thats hardly the cause of panic attacks is it?? So, we came up with nothing really, nothing concrete BUT just talking about it and being open about what was happening and talking to friends about the fact I was having these attacks, all helped. I knew I wasn't alone for a start. Crikey, there are a lot of us that have them! Gradually the panic attacks subsided, more slowly than they arrived, but they went nonetheless.

Now they're back. I had one or two last week and now they're happening every day again. This morning, on the tube I almost threw up I felt so faint and out of breath. I held my hat in my lap just in case I needed an improvised sick bag (nice!) I know that I have an awful amount of shit going on right now, that I tend to internalise and I put on a brave face a lot but its not healthy is it? So I have asked for help.

Strangers

Its strange that a comment from a stranger can make your day. Thank you for those of you that have left sweet sentences of support and encouragement. At times it seems you understand me more than my friends and family... I guess thats why therapists work!!

And talking of therapists, I have a session with the London Womens Clinic therapist on Thursday (given as a freebie by my consultant... the only freebie I think I'll get). The consultant sent me a letter yesterday with an attached copy of her assessment of my consultation. She describes me as a delightful 41 year old, intelligent and full of life. She then adds that she is concerned about how difficult I am finding the whole process of doing it as a singleton and recommends me seeing their counselor. She then offers a follow up session with her, free of charge (oh another freebie... blimey). She said I was an unusual case, even for the London Womens Clinic. Not many women it seems, choose to do it alone!

So, at least I don't have to pay for the next couple of visits... a silver lining?

Days that feel poo!

I'm having one of those Mondays where I wish I wasn't really here. I don't want to talk to anyone, do any work or even move. My body doesn't feel normal, it feels jet-lagged somehow. I hate the outfit I'm wearing and my hair - even though washed and blowdried - looks lifeless and lank. I have just looked at my hotmail and all of the messages are from friends that are so happy. One is pregnant again, one has a new home in the country, one has a new kitten and one has a new boyfriend. How to make me feel even shittier... thanks.

I remember writing in my diary at age 15, that I wish the world would open up and swallow me and spit me out somewhere where no one knew me and I could start again. I still feel that at 41. I wish I could disappear and not have to answer awkward questions or pretend I'm ok. I wish I didn't have to lie a dozen times a day just so I don't upset anyone with how utterly miserable I'm feeling. I know when the dark feelings start because I don't answer the phone, I don't text and I don't email. I don't go out and see friends. I go home and cry. It'll last a few days, maybe until Friday at worst, then I'll brighten up and feel more myself.

When I used to see my therapist, when I had money... I would sit in her gorgeous sitting room and cry for the whole hour, unable to get even a sentence out about why I felt so sad. Its just overwhelming, that's all. And all the rubbish usually happens at once, not one shit thing at a time.

My parents and I always chat on a Sunday morning at 11:15 am. Thats our time. I have stopped telling them the truth about stuff. I can't bear to hear the disappointment in their voices. So I lie. Things are fine, yup, works great, yup I've been out to parties and dinners. Yup life is just grand. Their own life right now is a bit shit so there's no point making them even more miserable with the reality of mine. My sister doesn't return phone calls and has decided she doesn't want to spend Christmas with the family. Mum and Dad feel rejected by it. So I have to go... that's going to be a bundle of laughs. Just the 3 of us. Another Christmas with no good news.

I apologise if this makes you all a bit sad. I can't afford my therapist any longer so this is the only way I can get it out.

After all this time it might be a no!

Just when I thought finally everything was turning a corner for me and I get the good news about my body being fertile and so on, my mortgage adviser tells me its now unlikely I'll get the equity released from my mortgage. Thats the money I need for treatment at Harley Street, which means no baby. I'm devastated.

So... physically I can

I've got the eggs, I've got the hormones, I'm healthy and my body is in good working order. So... physically I can have a baby. Weeeeheeeeee!!

That's the result from Friday, as I sat in one of the offices at the London Womens Clinic on Harley Street. Everything looked good, especially for a 41 year old. Now I just had to try.

My doctor was so lovely and explained all my results from the 3 hours of tests I had just gone through. She explained that if I was in a relationship trying for a baby, I would succeed most probably. The fact is, I've only got one chance at this and it all boils down to money. MONEY!!! It seems ridiculous that my whole baby future lies in the fact that I only have a couple of grand to give it a go. IUI (having a baby with insemination) cost about £2,000. Thats one go... they wait til the right time of the month and then they flood (yuck) your womb with sperm and then cross their fingers. Its a 1 in 20 chance of getting pregnant. Terrible odds. But even though I'm physically in good shape and I've got everything in the right place, my age is against me. My eggs are still old and my fertility is not a 30 year olds so that's why the chances aren't so good.

She recommended that for my best chances I should try straight for IVF (having your eggs stimulated, then removed and mixed with the sperm in a petri dish. Wait for them to get fertislised and then put a couple back in the womb to develop!!). IVF not only costs about £5,000 a pop but the risk is multiple births. If I'm doing this on my own then how on earth could I handle twins?? I couldn't so therefore I can't risk having IVF. However, I could do it if I had £50,00 spare which is why it all comes down to money again. If I knew I could get some sort of help with the twins, a part time nanny or something and wouldnt have to worry about working all the time, then I would do the IVF... do you see??

But to be honest... whats really holding me back is still the morality of it, the emotions and feelings, not the money or process!!!

I went for a long walk on my own yesterday and think I'm 85% there in deciding to go for it. The only thing that holds me back is the question "Am I doing this totally selfishly?" Knowingly, raising a child alone when family for me is so important. Doing it knowing one day I'm going to have to explain there is no daddy at all. Will he/she feel like some sort of scientific experiment. No father at all... at least with a fling, you may not KNOW the father but you've spent at least half an hour with him (hopefully half an hour!!!!) so you have a vague idea what he looks like. With a sperm donor, what if you absolutely hate the way your child looks... he may have murderous eyes, weird jutting forehead, just scary. You will never know where that part of the baby came from... I will be wondering just as much.. who is he?? Can I live with all that?? Every day looking into a part strangers eyes?

Also I had the most wonderful childhood, friends and family constantly around me. I have always wanted the same which is why I've waited so long. I was always so convinced that it would work out for me, boyfriend, husband children... the way it should be.

Now I am going against every fibre in my body about how you should bring up a child. So is it fair on the child? I can't give them what I had. Apart from an abundance of love, they won't be able to travel the world, have mummy stay at home, supported by Daddy. Have a sister to play with, live in a big house in the country with rambling hills and woods to play in. Have wonderful grandparents. I say this because by the time my baby would be 5 or 6 years old, my Mum and Dad will be in their mid 70's. They wont be able to look after or run around after my child like mine did. They are also not able to be the very involved babysitters as they were with my sisters kids. Mum spent every week looking after my nephews ten years ago but I can't ask her to do that now. Physically she's just not well enough and Dad would not want to. His tolerance of noise and children is at an all time low and I don't want to burden them with my selfish act or force them to care for a baby they advised me against.

I desperately need support though, if I'm to do it. Not sure where that will come from. I will be broke and lonely too... can I cope??

My head spins all the time with these decisions. BUT to be honest I only have a 1 in 20 chance of getting pregnant anyway so its a hell of a piece of magic and good luck if I do. I just wish someone would whisper in my ear… it's ok Jules, you will be looked after, you will be a fabulous Mother, go with your gut.

In limbo

I can't seem to get on with anything. I'm in total limbo with the baby thing, the flat thing, the money thing.

I'm STILL waiting to hear about my bloody mortgage.. apparently it's 80% there and sorted but now I have to have a surveyor round to value my flat. They are utter utter bastards! So once again, clean the flat from top to bottom, fresh baked bread smells and fresh flowers on display. Every time an estate agent comes round I fall in love with my flat all over again because I make it look so damn nice! Why it can't look this good ALL the time? In half an hours time, there will be papers all over, a pile of washing, a sink full of plates and the post scattered across my wooden floor in the hallway. And it's only me, on my own!!! How can one tidy girl create such havoc?

The baby thing is the real mind fuck right now though. My friend hit it on the head yesterday by saying that for the past year, I was so convinced that I couldn't physically have children, that I wanted it more than ever. Now I have got half my hormone tests back and they are all very good, so I CAN (on paper) have a baby but there are chinks in the whole plan. One morning I wake up 100% that I want a baby, the next morning I wake up 100% that I just can't do it.

I have asked about 10 friends over the last 2 weeks (friends that have children), that if they were to step into my shoes right now, would they have a baby? About 8 out of ten said they wouldn't have a baby if they were me. This is taking on board I don't have a partner, my family are 2 hours away, I am a freelance designer earning only just enough, I am grumpy when I've had no sleep and get ill quite a bit (ok thats the negative!)

Two of these friends are my closest friends. I was so gutted to hear them say it but they were being honest. They both said that even with the support of a boyfriend/husband, having a baby was sooo hard. To do it alone, they said, would be too difficult.

Then one other friend, out of the blue, the only friend I know thats done it alone, said, no matter how hard it all is, you DO cope, you DO find support, you DO find the money. She said to me "Jules, you've got to think about it like this... if you accidentally got pregnant tomorrow, you did the test etc., would you have an abortion?" Oh my god, of course not. "Well then, you would cope wouldn't you. You would have the baby even thought the circumstances weren't perfect and you would love that baby just as much as if you'd spent years planning it."

She's right. When I found out in January that I was pregnant and I did 3 pregnancy tests to make sure (it disappeared 3 weeks later) ... I couldn't stop smiling. I was even standing there in front of the mirror, sticking my stomach out to see what I'd look like (didn't have to try too hard, bit of a belly anyway!!) I rashly joined a baby forum who still send me emails (it was hard when they said a month ago "congratulations on your new baby"). I would have had a baby right now... and I would be struggling but I would be so in love with it that nothing would matter. I know that.

Still, there is a nagging feeling that morally I am not doing it right. It has been hammered into me from such a young age, the traditional lifestyle, the way things should be... things happen for a reason. I've said this my whole life too. Karma, kismet etc. I totally 100% believe in it all. I have had my palm read about 3 times in 20 years and every time, the palm reader said she couldn't see children in my life. I mean, that's really really a harsh thing to say to someone. BUT, here's the thing. By her saying that to me.. did I have some self fulfilling prophecy? The more I was told it couldn't happen, have I made it NOT happen?? Do you see what I mean? If someone says you can't, you can't, you can't, over and over, you eventually believe them.

There's always the rebel in me though, that says fuck you, I CAN do it, no one says I can't do something. This happened when I was 16.. I was told I was incredibly bright in all the sciences and that I should do A Levels etc. in those subjects. I wanted to do art though. Art and music and drama. My O' level grades were pretty poor in art but I insisted that I would work so hard and be good at it. Well, there you have it, I wasn't the best artist, I'm still not.. but I know my strengths (a good eye for colour and layout) and my weaknesses. Instead of choosing to be a sculptor or go into textiles, I knew I would be better at graphic design, I knew I could make a living out it and I do.

So I HAVE rebelled throughout my life, I have gone against everyone's advice and I have come out the other side happier. I moved across the world twice following my dreams, I have traveled the world when financially I shouldn't have. I've gone out with inappropriate men and partied to excess when I knew it would make me feel shit for weeks. I have done a lot of things I shouldn't have, for all sorts of different reasons, but do I regret any of it? Absolutely not.

12 years ago, at a Boxing Day party with my family, I went around the room of friends and family, old and young, and asked them if they regretted not doing something in their lives. If, on their death bed, would they say "I've had a good life but I wish I'd had the courage to do... (and fill in the blank)". I would say about half of them looked a little sad or simply shrugged and sighed. Half that group of people had dreams and wishes that they'd never gone for. Sometimes, not even their partners knew about these dreams and were shocked at certain revelations. There were rock stars, dancers and doctors in that room and for one reason or another they were advised against doing it. How sad, I thought. The next week I flew back to London from a wonderful life in Boston US, to pursue my dream of acting. Safe to say, I am not a Hollywood star but I gave it a good go and now I am happy to say, well at least I tried. I still do some amateur stuff on stage and I'm happy with that.

Based on that party and people's responses, I decided if I wanted to do something badly enough, I would make it happen. I would never want to be on my death bed and say "I wish I'd had a child" God, that's just sent shivers down my spine. I don't want to live my life without a child. WOW, its amazing what happens when you write things down.

So, tomorrow I have the pelvic ultrasound. I can't really afford to do it (it's £150) but I need to know from them, if they think I can have a baby. As I said before, there is a fibroid but I can't keep putting this appointment off. I need to know one way or the other don't I??

Good news, bad news and utterly devastating news

Good news: I just learned that my Father has had the all clear for his bladder cancer. So until his next test 3 months from now, we can all breathe a sigh of relief.

Good news: I have just had my hormone fertility tests back and they are all very good. I have good fertility meaning that I am very capable of having a baby. Now it all depends on what they find when they do a pelvic ultrasound next Friday. I know I have a fibroid so the ultrasound will show if its grown, if it might get in the way of a baby growing. If it has, I may have to have surgery to remove it.

Bad news: I still haven't heard about my mortgage and equity release. The Abbey National are being utter pains in the backside, asking for more bits of info every few days. It was supposed to have been sorted out by today when my current mortgage actually finishes but they are being shit. I'm losing faith in my mortgage broker... I contacted him over 6 weeks ago to sort this out and still its up in the air. His holiday was far more important and so MY life has been delayed 10 days.

Utterly devastating news: Yesterday, an hour after finding out about my Fathers' good news, I heard about a good friends' cancer returning, with a vengeance. Last year, at the age of 29, she had a mastectomy to remove breast cancer. She has only just felt herself, her hair has grown back, her confidence returned. Last week she found a lump in her neck. Yesterday they told her it was fatal. With treatment she has a life expectancy of 2-3 years... without treatment, 2-3 months. I don't know how to react. I'm in such shock it's hard to express it. Only when I spoke to her best friend late last night did it truly hit me, and we spent the next hour in hysterical tears. My friend and her best friend are meeting tonight to talk it through but my friend has already said she can't go through the hours of chemo and radiotherapy again and is saying she might refuse treatment. All I know is that if I she wants to jump out of a plane, swim with dolphins, get drunk every night... then I will be there, doing it with her.

I MUST stop whingeing!!

I just read my last blog and bloody hell, I'm surprised anyone would read it. I don't half go on and on about shite don't I? Moaning about this, complaining about that... I am going to try and be a bit more positive from now on.

However, a couple of moans for good measure!!

I still haven't heard if I'm getting my equity release. My mortgage broker called last week and sounded a little frantic about getting my applications off, to various lenders. I wondered why he was getting so agitated until he said "Well, I'm going on holiday tomorrow so I wanted to get all your stuff done and dusted today!" So, he's gone to Spain for 10 days and I won't hear anything until he comes back.. bloody brilliant. There's me stressed to the hilt, not sleeping, wondering what my future will hold, and old mortgage guy is off on his hols. Have a lovely time, don't worry about me!! So another agonising week of nothing.

I've been sleeping so badly its affecting my work. I toss and turn all night and fall asleep in a sweaty awkward position. I wake abruptly when the alarm goes off and I don't feel at all rested. My body thinks I've been working as a contortionist, all twisted and uncomfortable. Last week I was half an hour late for work on 2 mornings. The studio was fine with it, they are friends and didn't mind and it all works out ok because I just stay a bit longer at the end of the day...

This morning was a different story. I didn't fall asleep until past 3 am. I woke at 6am with a neck spasm so painful I couldn't move my head. When I tried to move, it shot a dagger up the back of my head into my temple. Shit shit shit, I thought, I have to go into work, I cannot let this stop me working. I ran a very hot bath, took some painkillers, rubbed on some arnica and then got back into bed for an hour. Nothing helped. By 8am I knew I had to make the dreaded call to work. Oh, this is a different studio to last week, by the way. A really great studio in Kensington that I love freelancing for. They were hit quite badly by the recession and have only just been getting their favourite designers back in, so I was thrilled when they rang last week and booked me. Now I was ringing the studio manager and trying to explain what had happened... on her voice mail!!! Anything you try and say on a Monday morning sounds flaky. No one believes there is anything wrong with you I'm sure. They all think "oh, I bet she had a heavy weekend and can't be bothered" But thats wrong! I get paid by the hour. If I call in sick, then I'm sick. I am losing a lot of money if I don't go to work and believe me, I cannot afford not to. So when I do call in sick its for a very damn good reason. I simply cannot work!!

So I sent off the message and hear nothing back. I call again at 9:30 and she is in a meeting. I text her at 10:30 and no answer. Shit... she hates me. I then get a text from her saying please read my email. Oh dear! So I get myself out of bed, hot water bottle wrapped round my head, secured with a tea towel (quite weirdly, a good 50's headscarf look!!!) and check my email. The disappointment in her message is just pouring out of the screen. She not only has got someone to replace me today but for the rest of the week because as she says "we can't risk you not being well tomorrow". Ok, so thats fair enough... she has a point. I don't even know if I will be all right tomorrow. But she continues to say how understanding they've been in the past with my illnesses and they just can't take the risk of having unreliable freelancers!!!! No!!!!!

This surprised and upset me because the "illnesses" she is referring to were all totally real and unfortunate. Two of them were last summer:

I fell off stage at a party and badly sprained my ankle so I had to keep my foot up for a couple of days with frozen peas but managed the rest of the week in the studio on painkillers and crutches.

Then, just when I thought it was safe to come off the crutches, I attempted the stairs at the same studio and fell down 2 flights, pulling my shoulder out as I grabbed the railing. I carried on working but the next morning was in agony. I went to my osteopath who said I might have torn a ligament and was pulling on my shoulder to see when we heard a pop and then I blacked out. He had actually dislocated my shoulder trying to make it feel better. I went to hospital and was put back together and told to rest it for a few days. So I had to call in sick for that!! Not my fault!!!!

Then there are my excruciating period pains which I have to warn all new studios about. Basically for the first 24 hours of my period I am totally incapacitated. I am bent double with hot water bottles front and back and codeine coming out of my eyeballs. I have had 2 laparoscopy's, 1 colposcopy and other investigative work done to see if they can understand why my periods are so painful. I had a bit of endemetriosis removed and have a sizable fibroid which they said might have something to do with it but they didn't think it worth removing!! Their conclusion, after all these years is that I'm unlucky, its inherited (very true as my mother suffered terribly and had a hysterectomy at 30 and my sister has had a partial one at 43... not much hope for me then). But I have to explain to my prospective employers that this one day, almost every month, is a non work day. Embarrassing, humiliating but true. Of course, I can't say for sure that it will be the second Monday of every month... so sometimes it comes early and I have to call and explain. I hate it. Its the fucking bane of my life. I want to rip my insides out it hurts so much, so when I have to call and say "sorry its my period" I sound like a stupid, pathetic work-shy idiot. That's what she's referring to I think.

There is not much I can say back apart from sorry and please know it was real pain and I'm not making it up and I love working there and please don't drop me as a freelancer... I don't want to come across as unreliable. That's the worst feeling ever.

Ok thats the moaning done... I have just started getting paid for work I did 6 weeks ago. Money in the bank... weeeheeeee. Its been nearly 3 months since I had proper money! I can start eating nice things again and maybe going to the cinema once a week like old times and bloomin heck, I could really push the boat out and go to the theatre!! There's a hell of a lot of good stuff on right now!! AND if I do get my equity release I'm going to bugger off to the sun for a week and lie there and do nothing but read and swim and play tennis... yes, ON MY OWN most probably but who cares. Sun and sand, oh joy!!

God, I'm bored!!!

No one tells you, that as a single 41 year old, you will suddenly find yourself with no one to play with. All your friends are coupled up with babies and invariably need 6 weeks notice to do anything! Then, on the day you are supposed to meet up, have dinner, have a drink, go to the cinema... whatever, they ring you and say they can't make it due to sickness (child) or tiredness (them), or both. Its completely infuriating. Understandable but infuriating. I don't ever say anything of course, I totally understand how they must be feeling, probably more pissed off that THEY have to cancel. But, I think it's jolly well time I found some new friends. People who will turn up when they say they will, can stay out late, go off at a moments notice. I'm not saying I want to relive my twenties or something, all I would like is for someone to be free to go to the theatre, for a drink in the local, a drive to the sea. I haven't got a bloody boyfriend so I need my friends.

I'm bored and actually quite lonely. Never in my life did I think I would say that. My life has been so full of, well, living. Friends in abundance, phone always ringing, diary full!! Now I look at my diary and the gaping white pages stare back at me. I am thrilled at the doctors' appointment penciled in, it means I can have a good old chinwag with him... free therapy!! Ooh and I'm going swimming on Wednesday and maybe go and see the new Almodovar on Thursday! On my own!! And there's a possible dinner party in November but that will probably be canceled or rescheduled! 

I'm not really quite sure where everyone has gone but what I am sure of, is that if I had a horrendous accident or fell over in the shower and hit my head, no one would find me or even know I had been hurt... for DAYS!! Most of my friends don't correspond with me until I ring, text or email first. Sometimes I think that may be why I want a baby... to feel loved and wanted and deserving!! 

I sometimes wonder if I've done something to deserve this kind of crappy outcome but I honestly think I'm a good person. If this karma (what comes around, goes around) theory works... then I should be married with 3 kids, living in a huge country house, with a horse, chickens and two black labs!! Karma is shit!!

Lets talk about the exes

Its bad enough being single without finding out, month after month, that your friends are either getting married or having children, or both. When I was 35, I was actually really happy to hear of friends getting married and being pregnant. Now I'm 41, I hate hearing it. I get so jealous seeing pregnant women on the tube. I constantly look at mens ring fingers to see if they are married. I just can't help myself. I see a good looking chap over 40 on the tube, not wearing a ring, and I almost will him to look at me.. maybe it would be love at first sight. Mostly, said man is buried in the paper.

The worst though, is hearing about your ex boyfriends finding love and being happy. Year after year it happens. The love of my life was unfaithful and I don't think I ever forgave him. I tried, but every time he came back late or phoned to say he was working I became suspicious. I never ever trusted him again and it finally became too much for both of us and we split up. We were engaged at the time. The announcement had gone in the the Times and Telegraph and when he saw it, he freaked out. I think he knew what I knew, that it was just not right. I probably would have gone through with it, and 2 years down the line, regretted it. BUT, 2 months later he met another woman. Whilst I had to leave the country (and travel round India for 3 months) just to be away from him, he went out and got drunk one night, in the Long Island Ice Tea Bar (of all places) and met a Thai girl. One month later, she was was pregnant. 6 months later they were married. Talk about rebound!!!

The thing that upset me most was that we had so many mutual friends that went to the wedding. I thought, on the day of their wedding... can't you see this is wrong? It should be me!! No one thought it would work, no one thought they would stay together. In fact, most friends said that although they liked the Thai bride, they thought maybe she was just really clever and and had got what she wanted. Cynical and just a bit racist maybe. But, 11 years later, they are still together and with 2 gorgeous children. I hate them!

The one after the love of my life, was gorgeous. A total hunk. I wondered why he was with ME! I was smitten, he wasn't. His career was more important. He moved to Singapore and now has a new wife and child.

The next ex called me from Venice, a few months after we split up, just to tell me how happy he was, and that he was engaged. Thanks for that. We had talked about going to Venice ourselves. I had always told people that I would only go to Venice with a husband or a lover and to have my ex call up from Venice and gloat was all a bit much!

The next ex, a commander in the Navy, decided his love was the sea and not me.

The one after, a cousin (by marriage only, and very distant) took another girl to Morocco after I had suggested it. He recently told me his new girlfriend was pregnant.

The ex after that, decided he was still in love with his ex wife and couldn't have a relationship until he sorted his head out!

It seems, a lot of my life, I have been the one, before the one they marry. As if I was some sort of training ground to make them marriage material. It does seem unfair. A few of them have thanked me for making them better men. Does that mean I nagged them to death about certain things and only when we split up did they realise I was right? I wonder if I can ever be compatible with a man again? Have I got so used to being alone (my last serious boyfriend was the one in love with his ex wife... about 4 moths ago) that I show I'm too independent? I went on a internet date with an architect and we had a lovely time but on the way home he said "you give the impression you are so happy with your life and don't really need anyone". I was gobsmacked! Thats my confidence taking over, pretending to be fine and not actually betraying how lonely I am. I guess I need to find some sort of balance...

Its 4:30 am and I am writing this after being out with a gay friend for dinner. I made a desperate last attempt to ask him if he would help father my child. He said no. I came home about 2 hours ago, drunk, and have just watched "When Harry met Sally" for about the thirtieth time. Now I write... now I sleep.

My dream

I had a dream last night that I was on a bus with all my close friends and family and everyone was having a great time, talking and  laughing, apart from me. I was sitting there on my own, looking about 12 years old with my head down (I sometimes have these dreams where I am watching myself in the dream, as a third person, usually from above!) looking very sad and alone. Suddenly my Mother stands up and shouts "So when are you ever going to get married darling?" and looks around at everyone encouraging a reaction. The whole bus is silent and then as one, they look at me and all erupt in laughter. Nasty, loud laughter, as if this was the funniest joke they had ever heard. I then woke up. Not a good start to the day, feeling utterly shit about yourself!!

Why does everything take so long??

All I want is a credit report.. is that so hard?? But of course it is, because I want it now and me wanting it NOW, means I have to wait about a week. Even the website is suspicious of my credibility now. When I got a credit check a few years ago, in the golden era of me being slightly well off, I got one on-line immediately. Now the same people say I have to wait for a PIN number and need to get much more info from me over the phone, so I call them in my lunch hour and they say they can't discuss it with me over the phone, that I have to wait for my PIN. Then I need to log on and then call them. WHAT??? None of it makes sense! 

I have, however, managed to set up 3 visits from estate agents to value my flat next Friday. They are like blood sucking leeches aren't they? Not content to just come and see my flat, as asked, they have taken matters in their own hands and now pester me with text messages and emails suggesting houses I might like to buy... not even in my area!!! I had to make up a story saying I was thinking of selling my flat and moving to the country (all I need their evaluations for is getting a new mortgage but I didn't want them to feel used or anything.. ha!) and now I get details of houses that are not even in my price range. I friend once said that the best thing to do with unwanted mail is to put "RETURN TO SENDER" on the front over and over again and they will stop. Might wait til after next Friday for that!!

Bit of bad news

So, I have been preparing myself with the fact that I might have to do the baby thing alone... meaning NO father so to speak. I have been thinking ahead and wondering what on earth I will tell people about who the father is.

If I get the sperm from the UK then I will have only a number. So if and when I get pregnant, I can actually tell people, after the old 3 month scan etc. that "The father of my child is number 4283. He's white, 6' tall with blonde hair and blue eyes, he is a graduate and has no history of any life threatening diseases." Dah dahhhh! That is all I will know.

If, however I get my sperm from the European sperm bank, I will have a name, and judging by the website, most of the guys seem to be from northern Europe with names like Hanns and Mickel and Gram. I will also, however, have a baby photo so I can always download that and present it to everyone who asks with.. "The Father of my child is called Hanns and look how cute he is as a child" as I proffer said photo! Weird huh?

A few years ago, a friend of mine announced she was pregnant, at the age of 42 and when we all gasped and said that we had no idea she was even involved with a man, she said "I'm not. A friend helped me out." To this day, she has never divulged who got her pregnant. I now wonder, whether, just maybe she went down the donor route and was too embarrassed to say. Do I make up a story and give Hanns some kind of emotional background, in relation to me? Should I just tell people that I had some mad affair with a gorgeous man called Hanns but that he went back to Norway and I have no way of contacting him, so he will never know about the baby, but that's just fine, I will raise it alone. Or do I come clean with everyone and tell them "well, I am pregnant and I'm thrilled but I will never know the father of my child, not will my baby. It was donated sperm!"

Actually, the last bit is not strictly true because as I mentioned, a blog ago, the baby, once reaching 18, can actually find out who number 4283 is. If the sperm is from the UK, the new law allows the offspring (once they reach adult age) to log on to the National Sibling database and find, not only their donor father, but who else has been fathered by number 4283. Apparently, it is all a bit of a big love in... not only sperm donor babies finding their fathers, but finding their half siblings. The website is www.donorsiblingregistry.com and there are hundreds of messages on there, from children asking if anyone has their same donor father? Its quite strange but absolutely brilliant. If I was brought up knowing that I was born from a donor that may have also enabled 10 other women to have children, then I too would want to know if I had brothers and sisters. There are amazing stories of yearly, if not monthly reunions with all donor siblings getting together and hanging out!! Huge extended families!!

If I had European sperm however, (cheaper and donors supply more physical and historical information) they are not allowed to be contacted. They are anonymous. Maybe that's why there are thousands more donors.. They all get paid (expenses.. because apparently its illegal to PAY donors but their expenses can be met. So a little shifty shuffle each week for an hour might mean taxis, to and from the clinic, plus whatever their hourly working rate is... it means, essentially, donors get paid about £250 a go!) But the European donors are always anonymous, no one can ever find them. This was the case in the UK until 2007.. Gordon Brown decided donors should be able to be contacted in the same way as mothers giving their children up for adoption! So, you see why there is a decline in UK donors!!

BUT, neither I or my child might ever know who the father is... would I want to? Would it be too much to live with, never knowing exactly who the father is. At least, women who get pregnant by one night stands, know (maybe vaguely, if alcohol played a major part) what the father looked like. He might be some drunken loser from the local pub, a friend or someone that just wanted to help out.. at least you they have some visual memory to go by.

Anyway, I digress... the reason this blog is called Bit of Bad news is that it may now never happen. Its not set in stone, but I got an email from my mortgage adviser today who suddenly told me that my credit rating was so low it was doubtful I would be able to release ANY equity from my flat, let alone £20,000! I needed at least £20,000 to pay off my credit card, the tax man, my parents, my loan and my accountant. It adds up to £18,000 and then the remaining £2,000 was going towards the treatment at the Womens Clinic! My mortgage man told me (a month ago and before he knew that I'd been unemployed for 2 months and lapsed on my loan and mortgage) that I could get £25,000 released and still only pay £700 a month rent. Fabulous, I thought. I could pay off everything and then have £7,000 to have to try and have baby and save some too. However, today, after hearing about my woes, he got back to me saying I had such bad credit that it was unlikely I would get a good mortgage let alone release any equity. Mortgage companies are scared, they don't want to take on the risk!!

For the last 12 years, credit card companies have thrown offers at me... upping my credit limit.. here's £12,000 pounds more, spend spend spend. Black cards, platinum cards.. take us, use us, get more!! Now, after only 2 months of being a bit broke and trying to do my best.. calling everyone and explaining the down turn and lack of freelance design work and offering them as much money as I can afford, my credit rating has slipped to that of a DSS person, on the dole their whole adult life!! Its so unfair! I'm working again, good money, good amount of hours. I've explained I can now pay everything to the full amount. But it doesn't matter. I'm now scarred with that 2 months of unemployment! Thats all they see... not my 12 years of being the golden girl!

I now have to wait... I have to get my credit report and bank statements and invoices and my whole life, and give it to these people. I have to prove my flat has gone up in value from £148,000 (that I bought it for in 2003) to £210,000. I have to get evaluations from 3 different estate agents. Only then, will the mortgage comanies revue my case and see if they can give me a good offer. I have three estate agents coming round next Friday. We will see.

If... I cant release equity on my flat, it basically means no baby. I have no money to pay for treatment. So, does that mean, every time, in the next few months, I am fertile, I go out and try and get some random male to have sex with me, without a condom?? Give men a bit of credit here. There actually probably aren't a lot of males who will have unprotected sex on a one night stand!!! And why should they? And also, why would I want that? God.. they could be riddled with disease, I know nothing about them..no, no no!!!

I got a postcard from my mother last week. I thought she might say sorry for saying she didn't think I would have children, or say sorry for saying I should ask my doctor for a hysterectomy whilst I writhed in agony for 3 days... she did say sorry in her own way but it showed such little understanding of what I am going through. She made no reference to what we had talked about or what I told her. She's like a very stoic brick wall, traditional, strong and practical.

Over the years I have had 3 laparoscopy's, 2 colposcopy's, several internal ultrasounds, a couple of scrapes.. all to get to the bottom of my terrible, disabling period pains. They found a fibroid the size of a tennis ball on the inside wall of my uterus. They told me it would not affect me getting pregnant nor carrying a baby but it might be a monor cause of pain. BUT it wasn't worth removing! For the last 3 years, I have had to take at least 1 day off each month because my cramps are so intense, I cannot stand. For the last 6 months, it is now 2 days of pain. I lie in bed with a hot water bottle on my tummy and one on my back, pain killers (now a strong codeine thanks to my Doctor) every two hours and yet nothing eases the agony. I have canceled numerous parties, dinners, drinks, weekends because of this pain. I'm sure my friends just think I have a hangover or something. Yet, the one time I was sent to a specialist, a man revered for his gyneological skills, also known in St. Thomas's Hospital as "the baby doctor" (because he solves all womens problems and then they can get pregnant)!! At the end of my intense tests and last laparoscopy, he announced triumphantly, that "I think your period pains would be a thing of the past if you just got pregnant". I sat there, open mouthed, totally stunned and said "so, that it? After all these tests, the only cure is for me to get pregnant? I'm not sure if my records show that I am single.What do you propose Doctor?" He looked embarrassed. I shrugged and said "Heh, maybe you should start a dating agency attached to this department?"

No one seems to truly understand how many women are out there, beautiful, educated, lovely... yet they haven't found love or even, a man who they can have children with. For a highly educated and revered Doctor to say "why don't you just get pregnant" is not only insulting but totally unfeeling and ignorant. My mother knows all this, she has been through it all with me. She hasn't really offered opinion or sympathy, just support in being there, offering me pills and hot water bottles. In her postcard, she wrote:

"My darling, you can't imagine the anguish and helplessness that I feel on hearing you tell me all the pain and suffering you undergo every month - I just want to wave a magic wand. You seem to have gone through every channel with no satisfactory outcome and it is so difficult to keep a positive attitude for that and bearing a healthy child. You have so much to offer in life."

Isn't that last bit strange?? Bearing a healthy child... not sure what to think about that but I know her last sentence "you have so much to offer in life" reflects what she said to me before.. just get on with it, forget about having a baby and move on. Maybe I will. Who knows what will happen in the next month. If I get the money I'm going for it. If I don't... then, maybe I will go and volunteer abroad.. work for a charity... surround myself with people that really really need me. I think, deep deep down, I just want someone to love me, unconditionally. If that isn't my own child then maybe other people who need my love more.

Oh texts!

So just when I was getting my head around the fact that I would have to go through this whole sperm donor business alone, I get a text. From Mac. He texted : 'I was just thinking about you and this sperm donor business and I want to help. Now don't get your hopes up because you might be disappointed but I might be able to help financially. I have to see how the heart surgery goes but after that, we'll see.'

Heart surgery? What? And also, double what? Help.. with the costs of sperm donation? I know this man, his text was a double edged sword. Lets text the girl that I adore, (yet have let down numerous times because I have lied about my marital situation) and tell I her I still want to be part of her life (and control her and make her love me again) by offering her money to pay for someone else to be the father of her child. How just sick is that? OK, cynical thoughts aside, maybe he is genuinely feeling bad and genuinely wants me to be happy, thus, have a baby. Maybe he thinks, I don't want to father the child myself but by offering to help with the money side of things, she will be so happy and thankful (and be indebted to me for life!) OK that is cynical but how on earth am I supposed to react to that?

I texted back: 'Mac, I appreciate you want to help but it's wrong. You mention you might be able to help but then tell me not to get my hopes up? My whole relationship with you is about not getting my hopes up... about trusting you. It's just not right. Oh and heart surgery? Hello?'

He texted back: 'I'm having heart surgery in September. Apparently my heart keeps stopping so I need surgery for it. I'm surprised I didn't have a massive coronary after what we got up to in the Lakes!! Ha ha!'

Is this all a bit odd or is it just me? NOW, he tells me he has a weak heart. Oh for Gods sake. Do I feel sympathy suddenly... I don't know. And what do I make of his offer to help financially? I don't want to be indebted to this man. I once thought maybe this man could be the father of my child and now he wants to help someone else be the father. I honestly don't know what to think. There are only a few people that know about this blog so it's difficult to know what to think. I need advice.

What next?

If I have to do this alone then so be it.

I reserved a place at a Harley Street clinic specialising in Sperm Donation, amusingly called the Inseminar, oh very witty! It was 2 weeks ago. A week after I had returned from my disastrous escapade in the Lake District with the infamous Mac. I was apprehensive but a friend of mine decided that she would come too. Her mother (a respected doctor in her own right) had listened carefully to Ellen's explanation of what she was planning and was very "gung ho" with the idea. Ellen is one of six children, all very successful doctors, lawyers, teachers and property developers. Her mother said it would be such a waste for Ellen not to have a child because her genes were so incredible. I love that!

My mother, on the other hand, sat on my bed, one hour before the Inseminar, looking incredulous at the brochure I had given her to read. "So darling, you won't know the father of the child?" "No, mummy, thats the whole point. Its donor sperm". She read for another 5 minutes and sighed. "Well, what do you think? You know I've always wanted a child and I just can't wait for my perfect soulmate to come along. I have waited 10 years for him and it simply hasn't happened. I'm 41 and want a child and so I think this maybe the only way that I can go. Don't you think its worth at least giving it a try? And then, if it doesn't work, well at least I know I've done all I can and can then move on and accept that maybe I will be childless". My mother sighed again. "Did you not think I'd have children mummy. Were you not worried that I was leaving it a bit late?"

My mother had previously (after many tearful conversations about how I was being left behind by all my friends having babies) told me not to worry. That I had many female relatives that had children late in life and that I would be fine. Now, however, she looked at me with the resigned look of having talked about this too many times. "Darling, to be honest I always thought you would marry someone with children. Maybe someone divorced or widowed. I didn't think you would ever have children of your own." I was utterly gobsmacked. "What? You've never said that to me before, what do you mean?" "I just never thought you would have children of your own, I've felt that for the last few years." I started to cry. "But, Mummy, you've always told me how lucky I was to have good genes and stuff and that I would still be able to have children." "I know darling, and I said that so you wouldn't get upset". I sat down and sobbed. "Why would you say that? You know I have always wanted a baby and now you're saying you never thought I would. Oh my god. Well, thats just great." I didn't look at her and she just continued reading the brochure. "I'm sorrry darling but I just want you to be happy and I think you should just accept that you won't have children and move on." "No! I think at least it's worth me trying. Trying for a baby, don't you think it's worth trying at least and then if it doesn't work or if the doctors examine me and say it's impossible, then at least I'll know for sure?" I exclaimed. "I don't know darling but you know I just want you to be happy and I think this will be all too much."

We said no more and my mother closed the brochure. I dropped her at the train station and drove to Harley Street. Once inside the clinic, I was greeted by a cheerful nurse who ushered me into the waiting room. "Are you here for the Inseminar? Are you on your own?" "Yes" I said. I walked into the warm, yellow room and looked around. There were about 20 or so women, some, obviously in couples, others (looking awkward) alone. My friend Ellen had texted saying she would be late so I said I would save her a place. The Inseminar began. We were all given a friendly and very informative Powerpoint presentation about the scientific ways of conceiving without a man. Natural cycle sperm donation pregnancies, hormone aided and of course, full sperm donor IVF assisted pregnancies. The costs were glossed over. Ellen arrived, red faced and apologetic and took a seat beside me (at the back of the room). Some of the couples looked around and smiled as she gave me a big hug and a kiss. Did they think we were a couple? At the end of the presentation, questions were encouraged. Between Ellen and myself, we probably took up the next 10 minutes of the nurses time.

So how many donors were at the clinic?
How many donors might match our specific requests?

You are given the height, weight, eye colour, skin colour and educational background of your donor. They have already been checked for any sort of disease, hereditary or otherwise. There are no photos. Ellen asked about foreign donors and the nurse sighed. Obviously they want you to buy UK sperm, from them. She admitted that the ESB (European sperm bank) had on their books, thousands more donors. The sperm was cheaper to buy and you could see much more information about them. They have baby photos of themselves and a voice recording of them now. Wow, really? There is much more information about their family and background. The nurse answered some more questions.

If you have a child by one donor, can you have a second child by the same one?
Only if you reserve the sperm. Apparently, any one sperm donor can only have 10 children. It means you aren't going to have a child with hundreds of siblings. Well, thats good. But it means you really have to think ahead. You have to pre-buy your sperm to make sure no one else uses it!! All just a bit odd.

Can you bring someone with you to the insemination? (Ellen asked that?)

"We encourage bringing a loved one with you to all your meetings" the nurse says. Ellen leans over and whispers "I'll be bringing my cat then!" We giggled and a girl in front turned around and said "and my dog!!". It began to feel quite nice, sitting in this friendly room in such bizarre circumstances but knowing you are all there for the same reason. Many single women, in their late 30's early 40's would love to have a child. Whether they have been unlucky in love and haven't found the right one (Ellen and I) to women who's partner is infertile (the girl in front of us) to a lesbian couple wanting a family (about 10 couples around the room). Ellen and I kept asking questions and it was all quite fascinating really. Then a woman came in and was introduced as the financial director.. uh oh, here we go.

The cost of having one treatment.... the initital consultation, tests and blood work, cycle observation, sperm and finally insemination, costs roughly £2,500. For one shot!! And that is the basic treatment. Any additional things like hormone treatment, sperm storage etc cost more. Then, of course, if you aren't able to do things naturally you have to add IVF on top of all that. They do an offer of Buy one get one free for the IVF... how generous!! If your IVF fails twice and you are crying for weeks on end and you have the house re-mortgaged twice, at least you get another try for free! Cynical moi?

So now I need a serious think. In order to even try one go, naturally (meaning no extra costs) I have to find £2,500. Oh and I almost forgot to say... the success rate for over 40's is only 5%. 5%!!!!!!!!!! Thats so shockingly bad isn't it. But heh, as my sister pointed out, what price can you put on a baby? I might have to try several time, even 2o times. Then I will be bankrupt, fat as all hell (because by that stage my body will have had hormone injections up the cazoo) and miserable. To even get the initial money I am having to release equity on my flat... if they agree to it. My credit rating isn't fabulous due to having no work for the month of April and all my creditors gasping simultaneously! We will see!!

Sometimes things are left better alone

I should never have gone. I should have known it would end in tears, it always has with this man. But when I wrote the previous blog, I felt positive it was a good idea to meet him again. I had talked it over with my friend the night before and we both thought, why not, just go and have fun. It could be a new start etc etc. I had good memories of him... but then don't you always remember the good over the bad? I think its your own self protection mechanism. Well I'm not sure if you can have a visual memory lapse for over 2 years but when I saw Mac at the Penrith train station in the Lake District, I didn't recognise him.

Is it possible to remember someone taller, better looking and completely different? Can beer goggles last that long? Had my fantasy taken over and I was remebering him how I wanted, rather than what was real? Maybe it was because I was firstly looking out for a man with a puppy and there were none on the station platform. He had asked me to join him AND his PUPPY. Then a man started walking towards me with a big grin and a fully grown dog. The man was Mac. Shorter, plumper, ruddier and balding. As I hugged him, he said "you probably didn't recognise me" and laughed. I looked down at his dog and Mac said "this is Ned". I said "Ned is not a puppy, he's awfully cute but not a puppy".


Mac looked guilty "I thought if I sent you a puppy photo it might persuade you to come up". Oh. I smiled. "thats very naughty... so what else did you fib about??" He looked at his feet. "the cottage hasn't got 2 bedrooms and its tiny".

Now, I'm not being all Jane Austen but when Mac had invited me up to the Lakes, he had asked me to come as a friend, that there was no pressure for anything else to happen and that the cottage was beautiful, isolated and had 2 bedrooms. I believed him, why wouldn't I? Although I had already thought I would jump in his bed anyway, I thought maybe the first night I could play a little hard to get and have a great nights sleep and wake up all fresh faced and beautiful. When we got to the "cottage" my mouth fell open. It was a little room tagged on to the end of a big house (probably a converted stable or something). It was one room essentially with a kitchenette and a shower room. There was nowhere to sit apart from two tiny kitchen chairs or on the bed. I looked at Mac "so where are you sleeping?" He laughed. "Mac, you said it was an isolated 2 bedroom cottage, not a 1 bedroom extension about half a mile from Keswick on the main road." Mac rolled his eyes. "Ok so its a bit small but anyway, we don't need two bedrooms do we?" I was cross. It wasn't about the dog or the room really, it was being lied to, being made to look like a mug, being put in a situation that I wasn't prepared for. The view WAS rather nice though.


Whilst I was there, there were some genuinely hilarious moments, however. Having come to terms with the situation and acknowledging that I probably would have slept with Mac anyway, we went to bed early. I was aware the dog was watching and asked Mac to put him outside. "But its raining and poor Neddy will get all wet, won't you Ned, and we can't have that, no we can't. Because then you'll smell all wet doggy won't you and that won't be very nice will it? Does Auntie Jules mind you staying here if you are nice and quiet and lie down, there's a good boy... down Ned". Right, lets get things straight... do not start having a conversation with your dog whilst in the middle of foreplay, nor talk to it like a human, nor be cutesy with it and NEVER call me Auntie Jules to a dog! Just put the dog out-bloody-side!!!! When I realised Ned's feeling were more important than mine, another black mark went against Mac. Ned stayed. Sex continued for a few minutes until we heard Ned whining. "Oh for fucks sake Mac, put the bloody dog outside, I cannot do this with him inches away, whining!!" Mac rolled off me and sighed loudly. He then got up and wrapped a towel around his waist and went outside. He came back a few minutes later with a huge dog cage and put it against the wall. "Ned, in your cage. Daddy wants some sex!" Oh. My. God. Daddy?? Please NO!!

The whole thing had slightly put me off but Ned stayed in the cage, looking pissed off, whilst Mac grunted out the sound of the whining. It wasn't the reunion I had dreamt of!!

A few minutes later Ned was happily let out of his cage and paced the room with terrible dog breath. Poor Ned, I thought. He was a three year old red blooded male, not spayed and was forced to watch two humans copulate, how utterly revolting and frustrating for him. I wasn't sure who I had more sympathy for, him or myself. Mac was lying next to me with a huge smirk "still got it heh?" he grinned. "well to be honest, the atmosphere was slightly ruined by your whining, smelly dog. I couldn't tell who was panting, him or you!" He chuckled. "Well, I promise, back in London, I won't bring him to our next date, OK?" So, the conversation was already happening. What would happen after the weekend?

I had presumed, naively, that his two years of his (unanswered) emails to me meant that he was available, single even. I had not continued the relationship back in 2007 because I'd found out he was still living with his wife! I felt let down, humiliated and used back then, and wanted no part of a relationship where I was the other woman, the mistress, the tramp. I morally didn't like the idea and hated the thought of his wife and kids finding out and being hurt. I told Mac exactly how it made me feel and ended it. But here I was, lying next to Mac and out of his mouth was coming what I dreaded. He was still living at home with his wife and kids and was pretty happy, generally. He loved her still but was sleeping in a separate bedroom and hadn't had sex since he last saw me. I felt sick. I would never have gone up to Lakes if I had thought his marriage and living situation hadn't moved on and changed. "But what did you expect me to think?" I asked, "you knew how I felt two years ago... I told you I would never get involved with a married man, no matter what his living situation, I wouldn't be that person, and yet here you are, having lied to me about the dog, the cottage and now you tell me that you're still living at home etc. What did you think would happen Mac? Why am I here?" He looked sad. "I just thought we could pick up from where we left off and then be friends back in London, you know, the occasional dinner, maybe a night in a hotel, a weekend away, you know?" "A mistress you mean?" I said. "Well, if you want to put it like that.. then yes".

The thing is, I know a lot of women might read this and think, well what's the problem? He is virtually separated from his wife, they have separate bedrooms, they don't sleep together, just have some fun. I used to think that too... until all I could think about was how devastated his wife and kids would be if they found out. Maybe I'm too empathetic and should be more selfish but I just couldn't do it!! I looked at Mac. "You know that's never going to happen don't you? I haven't changed how I feel. I want babies and a family and a country cottage and your plan doesn't come anywhere near that. I won't be your bit on the side Mac. Never."

We didn't speak about it again until my last day.

Yes, I stayed up there. I thought I might enjoy a few days with him and see it as a last goodbye, if you will. We talked about everything but us. He asked me about having children, about my plan to maybe use a sperm donor. It actually caused a bit of a row. Two years ago when he first suggested me being his mistress, he suggested he buy or rent a little cottage and I could have his child and he would look after me and it would all be blissful. Now as he asked me about children, he said "God, I could never have more children, wouldn't want any, I'm way too old!" I reminded him of what he'd said two years ago and he looked genuinely surprised. "So, if I had decided that this time it would work out between us, how would you have dealt with me wanting a child??" He looked blank and said "Well, it doesn't matter because we're just going to be friends anyway. But I can still help out you know". "What do you mean" I said, "with the baby?" "God no, I mean I could drive you around if you need to do the shopping and stuff!" Oh thanks Mac.

We went on long walks and didn't speak, comfortable in each others silences. The Lakes are simply beautiful and being in a different part to where my family's house is (southern lakes) was amazing. The walks were staggering. Walking around Buttermere and Bassenthwaite took my mind off everything.


We went for pub lunches and evening meals in out of the way taverns. It was quite lovely but every few hours, reality would hit and we'd either become angry or sad with each other. He, more sad for me not wanting him under any circumstances. Me, more angry for having such high expectations that things would be different. Sad at my life staying the same. Sad that he lied, angry that he thought so little of me morally.

And when I get angry, everything starts pissing me off. I started noticing little foibles about him that I'd never noticed before. Apart from the initial shock of him having put on so much weight and generally looking very frumpy, middle ages and saggy, I noticed that he blows his nose constantly. A really loud, quick, sharp blow on a blue spotted hankie, almost every 5 minutes. Hankie, crusty and wet at the end of the day, placed on the bedside table and once, put on the kitchen table over breakfast until my look of fury made him put it back in his pocket. He chews with his mouth open and speaks with his mouth full so that little sprays of food shoot over the table and onto me or my plate during meals. He has admittedly reached middle age and in doing so, has started wearing his boxers and jeans above his waist line!! Why why why why do men do this after a certain age?? In fact all the things that were irritating me were things my father also does now he's getting older. Oh no!!!!

The worst thing, the most annoying, irritating, clenched fist inducing habit he has though is not knowing the width of his car. Mac would brake as soon as a car approached from the other direction and he would shout "all right on my side" when there was about a metre gap. He would slam on his brakes and wonder why so many other drivers were shaking their heads at him or shouting "get over, you wanker!" Not only does this constant braking and swerving make you feel a little car sick, it makes the journey so long!! The lovely narrow country lanes were a nightmare. The general rule on single lane roads are that whoever can stop most conveniently, stops in a space wide enough for two cars and lets the approaching car continue past. Mac did not understand this. On one steep hill, he slammed on his breaks as a car came towards us. The man found a wider bit of road and flashed Mac to continue uphill and pass him but Mac thought he was in a wider space (even though he was right in the middle of the road, scared he might scratch his paintwork if he got too far to the hedge) and flashed the man back. This continued several times with each flash of the mans lights getting more frantic. I shouted "Mac, just go, his place is wider, he can't pass you here!" which he ignored. Finally the man gave up and had to mount the grassy verge as he passed Macs car shouting as he passed "you fucking tosser, where'd you learn to drive?". I smirked out of the window, making sure Mac didn't see me. He was absolutely furious and screamed back "what.. you fuck! Come back here and say that!!" For the next half an hour he screamed every expletive known to man. I probably didn't help things when I said "Maybe honey, it would help if you just sped up a bit and didn't keep slamming on the brakes!" Oops. I then had the tirade for about ten minutes.

On our last day, there were tears (mine) and shouting (mine) and pleading (his). I'm still not sure how we exactly left it. He wants to be friends. I can't be friends. Never have been able to the "friends" thing with exes of any kind. Once I've been intimate with someone and had such strong feelings, I can't seem to go a step backwards. Maybe that's something i can change, I don't know.

What I do feel is incredibly disappointed, a little foolish and very sad. What could have been a new chapter in my life has left me feeling more alone than before. Back to Plan A I suppose. On Saturday I am going to the London Women's Clinic to attend an Inseminar (very witty) and learn about sperm donors. If I want a happy life, I would like a baby in it, whether thats alone or not.