White Pants Dance

This is me!
Well not exactly. This is what I am wearing in my head as I do my white trousers dance. Aunt Flo is still not here, and I really need her to visit. No knickers and white trousers is surely the way to start my period. If she's not here by Monday we'll probably be put back a week for everything.

I know, we've been waiting three years already, what's another week. But I really don't want to wait another week. Especially as that would mean another week on menopause drugs. At the moment I think I've escaped the psycho, but I'm not sure if I'd be so lucky for a whole extra week.

Hubby and I have mastered the jabs now too. I say we... I haven't done any of my own yet. In fact I have made great arrangements not to do my own. At the end of last week I was on a course in Swansea, and my friends, my work, my union and indeed the Liberty Stadium itself were all party to my plans to keep my drugs in the fridge all day. An old family friend was roped in to jab me on Friday (she threw it in like a dart - amazing!). On the Saturday OH was still away, on 'cricket' tour with work, and I was all set to do my own. In practice though, I couldn't figure out how to pinch my skin, poke it in, hold it steady, push the plunger and remove the needle all with just two hands. My mother (who had previously opted out of offering to inject me) must have suddenly had an adrenalin surge, as she suddenly decided she could do it. Thanks, Mam! So I am still a virgin, as far as actually giving injections goes, but I am b*stard hard at receiving them.

It's my birthday on Sunday! (All my American tweeps and bleeps are having fireworks - just for me!) My 30th in fact. A friend in work (one of those who's been there and understands) has asked me if I'm excited to turn 30. She's right, I am. Most of the things I thought I'd have by 30, I do have. A hubby I love, who loves me, a good home, a good job (and a fantastic fur-baby). I'm blessed and rewarded in many ways. But OH and I are no way complete. And those last pieces of the jigsaw will come in my 30s. I guess we're not exactly sure how yet. I really hope that this ICSI will work, and we will have at least one of those pieces in just over 9 months time. But if not, and if it never works, we will adopt. And even that can happen within a decade. So my 30s will be when it all fits together. One way or another.

I'm having a party tomorrow over mam's house (Thanks Mam! Thanks Dad!) and I'm hoping to invite AF. She's arrived on the Sunday morning after a Saturday night relax many a time, but just to be sure... I hope all my guests are ready to don their whites for the white pants dance!