Christmas dot points

  • Summer has officially hit with 4 days last week of +35 degrees. Can I hear a massive hells yeah for fans, air conditioners, a swimming pool and two beaches (the bay and the ocean). All of them had a good work out over the last few days.
  • The last 10 days have been ridiculously busy. All of my own accord but darn me if I don’t love this time of year.  My best girls xmas party, work xmas party, cousins wedding, family kris kringle breakfast it’s been nuts but super fun.
  • I had my sister, brother in law and kids crash last night as they had a party in our town. Molly and her cousins had a ball, Chippie and I totally rocked at this large family thing (then secretly agreed that we would have only had one more if things had worked out cause man alive it is hard work). These days it is only after she has been playing with kids her own age that I ache at her being an only child. She thrives with it – despite not really liking to share me – they amuse each other. It is one of the hardest things to do as a single child family and that is to entertain and play in the way I did when I was a kid. Still, I try but it isn’t the same.
  • I decided to continue on with group PT on Monday’s with two other girls from my 12w challenge and I kid you not the first Monday one was the hardest workout I have ever done. I nearly cried. The next one is tonight.
  • Last week I had my first real flat moment about the miscarriage as I did the whole “I shoulda been 10 weeks”. I try to embrace the emotion when it is there and then not let it overtake. Still fucking sucks though. Nice early xmas present body. Which leads me to;
  • Was most likely because I got my period this morning. It isn’t a particularly nice one. Probably getting rid of all the leftover crap.
  • And I am still trying not to second guess myself and wondering if only had I taken at least the steroids after I found out I was pregnant or; more specifically tested two weeks earlier and done something about it would I still be pregnant? Get.rid.of.those.negative.thoughts. As it can’t help me now.
  • I had food poisoning (or at least I can only suspect that is what it was) on Friday night. I spent the whole night and morning over the toilet. It was not pretty. It was quite awful actually!
  • Slightly stressing as Niseko, the ski town we are going to in Japan has had it’s worst start to a season in forever. The stupid El Nino which is stuffing up other parts of the Northern Hemisphere has delivered decidedly unSiberian weather and is melting the initial snow dumps. However I have been told to not stress and that by the time we get there – in five weeks – the snow base will be HUGE.
  • Christmas shopping is done! Santa is delivering Miss M a lovely new big girl bed.
  • Only four more sleeps till Santa arrives!  I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas.


End of Challenge 1

On Sunday my 12w challenge ended.

To revisit my goals

  • tone up legs, stomach and arms – ACHIEVED
  • improve overall fitness and core strength, specifically targeting areas required for snow boarding – DEFINITELY ACHIEVED
  • increase cardio fitness so that I can run 5km easily again – I DID 5KM IN 27min ON SUNDAY
  • improve overall energy. very flat needing a total diet overhaul as eating far too much stodge ACHIEVED, ALTHOUGH XMAS KICKING MY ARSE A BIT
  • rediscover my zest for life ABSOLUTELY ACHIEVED, DESPITE A FEW ROAD BLOCKS.

My new goals are to work on the mum part of my belly :) I think after seeing some amazing results with the Kayla BBG on a few people I am going to give that a go after the New Year to add into my routine. I am BLOWN away by the results of one particular person – you know who you are!!!!!!

I also want to keep working on my running fitness as later in the year I am going to be entering a 10km run in honour of beautiful D.arcy. (Long story, when I am ready I will tell the story here).

I also want to keep those initial goals going on in perpetuity. I want the happy mindset to be normal for me.

I truly believe that my renewed focus on my health and emotional well being through placing my energies into fitness, food and lifestyle was paramount in me getting through the miscarriage. As soon as my body was ready I dove back into exercise to banish the sad thoughts. There is going to be time for reflection over what happened a few weeks ago, but they are going to be moments as opposed to my entire being.

Life is far too short to focus on those things any longer and I refuse to spend the next seven years wondering if I will again manufacture a unicorn.

Overall, I am pretty happy with my results. I lost about 3% in cm and the starting scales (which I said was wrong from the start) only show a 100gm lost. However, my scales from when I weighed myself at home show that I have had about a 3.5kg weight loss which makes me feel less stodgy.

Now the challenge is to get through the next few weeks of festivity, on top of the past few weeks of festivity.

And lastly,  a totally narcissistic photo of myself because my guns look smoking ;) it is my blog after all.


5 things that make me happy

Life can be shit. But you know what I have my amazing family. That makes a massive difference. It makes me move on.

These 5 things though always brighten my day

5. Eyebrow wax

4. Pedicure

3. A cup of tea made by my husband

2. Dancing and singing in the car with Molly to Tay Tay

and 1. Wine

With that said, I get those fairly regularly.

Actually I need to put 5(a) items received in the mail box. Bring on the onslaught bloggesses :)


Egg on my face

Two weeks ago on a Monday I wrote this post.

On the Wednesday I found out I was six weeks pregnant*.

By the following Thursday I had a miscarriage and lost the baby.

Life sure has a funny way of fucking with you.

It’s ok. We are ok. We are always ok.

We are just sad, confused, disillusioned, frustrated, bewildered and angry. To go with OK. To go with the fact we were ok.

We do what we always do. We smile, we laugh, we hug and we move on. Again. And then I try desperately hard to find the closure and happiness that was so fleeting and remind myself not to think about cycles, ovulation, pee sticks and try not to look at pregnant bellies and remember due dates that will come and go.

Carry on.

* clearly a massive fucking shock


Last week I came to a huge realisation.

I was done trying for children.

By done I mean adoption, foster care, trying naturally and of course treatment.

This has been a huge journey for me. I have gone through the all emotional stages and I am finally in a place where I am content. I mean actually content. I have accepted my life’s journey with infertility. I am still not a huge fan of pregnancy announcements, however of late I realise I no longer get heart blisteringly upset the way I used to. I listen to people talking about trying and I am right there in the corner shouting out words of encouragement but I just don’t have any desire to be in the ring with them. In fact, I often think to myself “thank goodness that isn’t me”.

Ryan and I have finally started moving on with our life. Planning things. Thinking about the future. Living. Not talking about babies. Molly is at an age where is she equal measures of amazing fun and cheeky naughty. There are days when I actually say to myself I don’t know how people parent another child and the threenager at the same time without going crazy (or drunk). Molly would desperately love a sibling but I can’t do that for her. Not the traditional way and I don’t have it in me any more to do it other ways. I tell her that she has the best of cousins and she has the best of friends and together they create our alternative family.

Waiting, wishing and hoping after a while becomes exhausting. If you have been in IF land for any longer than 12 months you know that. You wait in that waiting place and you hope desperately to come out of it. Like Dr Seuss promises. He tells us we sometimes spend time there but eventually you move on, you’ll move mountains. Each day in IF land brings failure and each day is a struggle when you realise a treatment hasn’t worked, you haven’t ovulated, your cycles are wonky (too short! too long! did I ovulate! am I now menopausal!), paperwork is lost, your period is too long or too short. You put your life on hold. Career plans get shelved, holiday’s are not possible and you are too scared to make massive changes just in case something happens.

The last five weeks I have been selling Molly’s baby things. The change table has gone, an ultrasound monitor, books and clothes. I am about to take a pile of old toys – barely used to an op shop. We are planning on getting Molly a big girl bed for Christmas and then the cot will be put on eBay as well. It has been incredibly cleansing.

We have the trip to Japan. I am in the last few weeks of my 12w challenge and this week I was supposed to be attending the adoption seminar (4 months after we signed up) when I realised it. That our baby making journey was finally FINALLY finished.I wrote this morning to say that we could not attend and I didn’t even feel bad about doing it. In fact I felt relieved because it was another day we would have to take off work for a baby that doesn’t even exist.

I am actually happy with our family of three. No, it isn’t perfect. Another child would have been the absolute best but right now we are in a great place. Back at the end of July we had a wedding and one of my dearest friends set a picture text message letting us all know she was pregnant. I lost my shit. Ok, I was rip roaring drunk but I lost it. I started sobbing uncontrollably. My husbands best friend ended up consoling me for an hour as I apologised wetly all over his suit jacket. However I think that was the turning point for me. I woke up in the morning with a horrendous hangover but I felt cleansed. I felt like I had got the last tears out and I have to say since then I haven’t cried. Not over my lack of children.

Closure, like a mythical unicorn pregnancy is a really difficult thing to achieve in infertility land. Yet I think I may have just achieved it. And I am not going to lie. Life feels good. Infertility has changed me and shaped me and I absolutely have come out of it a stronger, resilient, better person. I am ready for the next stage finally.

Dr. Suess Quote Typed on Typewriter by #LettersWithImpact:

via pinterest

What Chon Wore; Army Green

I was on the look out for casual trousers that weren’t jeans. I was so over wearing jeans. I liked the chambray pants from CR but I found the fit around the rear made my butt look too big.

Anyway, cue a blog post a month or so ago by a my favourite little fashion blogger (think Melbournite, mum and my age!) and I was like that’s exactly what I am looking for.

Before the online shopping guilts could kick in I quickly purchased them. I am so glad I did because I have lived in them ever since

On Friday we had the Peppa Pig concert, I bought the tickets ages ago from my niece Paige for her birthday. It was a fabulous day (a separate blog post needs to follow about the day before and one child’s hideous behaviour which meant we very nearly didn’t go).We had lunch in Degraves St, a super cool laneway in the city – soft shell crab taco’s anyone YUM. A quick walk around the city and got to the Arts Centre before the rain started again. We were a little disappointed as we wanted to go to the childrens playground at the botanical gardens but the wet wet Thursday / Friday prevented this.

These pants were perfect!


What I Wore;

  • Army Green Ponte pants Witchery
  • Black merino wool sweater Glassons
  • Sandals Trenery (oops I did wear sandals but clearly in pic I wore my thongs!)
  • Pink, red, white scarf Sussan I bought this before I knew I was pregnant with Molly (deep in the TWW) and wore it to a breast cancer high tea. Every time I wear this scarf I think to that moment before you get the BT, the stress and then the ultimate happiness and joy when I realised that finally IVF worked. It is my happy scarf.

Pinterest Parenting

Following on from NBR’s post about convoluted metaphors, or more to the point parents that strive to make everything pinteresting and living up to a imperfect ideal, I thought this photo we took on our camping trip a month ago was a perfect case in point.

It looks like we are this amazing family of three, on a beach laughing for the photo but the reality is she was screaming on my shoulders, refusing to smile for the nice lady that wanted to take a family shot, kicking me in the boob and Chippie was saying to her “smile for the darn camera”

What came out was this lovely shot, which looks great on FB but the truth behind is at that point we were ready to leave her at home ;)


The majority of us are just trying to get through the day the best we can. If that involves a packet of chips after kinder before dinner then so be it. If it means 30 minutes 60 minutes of TV when you are cooking dinner after work and your only child is driving you fucking insane then who cares. I know my brain wasn’t fried from too much TV. If it means bottle over boob or store bought over DIY or losing the plot over peaceful parenting, I want you to know I don’t judge. The minority, those that only show the perfect those people aren’t the reality. I normally find those are the ones that are living a life of hell behind closed doors. Relationship issues, children that have behavioural problems and probably money woes as well but they insist on telling all of us how wonderful life is.

If we could all be a bit more true to ourselves and in turn to the people around us, we would most likely be less stressed, less worried about what other people think and much more secure in our parenting techniques.

As it stands I do all the things that I shouldn’t do and said I wouldn’t do in parenting and a great deal of my life isn’t pinterest perfect. Sometimes I try my best and other times I just want to lie on the couch with a glass of wine and pretend I am all alone. Other times I will take 4 hours to sit and cut out muddy puddles for Molly’s third birthday because I really found it enjoyable.

I am pretty sure most of you are doing an awesome job, you just think you should be doing better. Most of the time what you are doing is already perfect anyway. Even if it wouldn’t get a lot of love hearts on pinterest.

What Chon Wore: Blue Suede Shoes

Oh yes I did.

I was getting ready for work and spotted these up on top of my wardrobe. Let’s be honest high heeled pretty shoes and a working vineyard, regardless of how fancy our restaurant is do not really mix.

However, a pencil skirt screams for 1940’s glamour. Just missing ruby red lips. But calm down, it is only Tuesday. Throwing caution to the wind, they’ve been worn.

I miss my old corporate days.
What I wore;

  • Pencil skirt made my by mum
  • Shirt purchased by my mum
  • Blue suede shoes purchased at a little shoe shop C.arlisle Street S.t Kilda

What Molly wore;

  • Frozen dress, country road star leggings and a special appearance by Gertie her lovey ;) It’s a day care day. Girlfriend can wear what she wants.

Molly’s trip to the hospital

This winter was particularly brutal on Molly.

There were a number of ear infections which had caused a perforated ear drum. This meant the pressure had built up in her ear and in order to drain the fluid her ear drum popped, created a hole in the ear canal and the most dreadful, yellow, mucus (often called glue) would drain from her ear. The actual perforation was not painful and no doubt caused her significant release but she would have been in pain beforehand. However, the ear never really drained of fluid from the previous infection so she was prone to another one happening fairly soon.

This year we started to get an idea it was happening when she just couldn’t hear us. When she kept saying “huh” or “what” we would realise that her ears were playing up.

Then with the build up of fluid in her ear, it would then cause additional fluid through her nose which then caused a cold or a chest infection. We pretty much spent the entire winter batting with one thing or another and the worst thing was we were so used to it, that we became immune to her sniffling or coughing and then people would comment and were like WE KNOW. Don’t you love people who are captain obvious, yes we know our daughter has a cough, we are aware of it but it has become our common thing.

After the third one in as many weeks, another bout of antibiotics and ear drops the doctor referred us to an Ear, Throat and Nose specialist. Firstly we had to get a hearing test done to establish whether she had any hearing loss. I thought that she probably had but was surprised it was in both ears (it was usually her right ear that caused the problems) and it was mild to medium. That really worried me as I immediately thought she would go deaf.

Then we had the meeting with the doctor. As it turns out the week before we met him she had croup so she was still battling a ridiculous cough. I expected him to recommend grommets. What I didn’t expect was how quickly he could diagnose her just by looking at her.

  • does she ever breathe through her nose? I wasn’t sure and then realised that no, she never did
  • does she snore at night? Not necessarily but she does heavy breathe
  • does she drool? OMG yes
  • does she have a blocked stuffy nose? all.the.time
  • has she had many ear infections? yep.

He not only suggested grommets, but he also suggested removing her adenoids as he felt that was the main issue. That she had enlarged adenoids. We should have clicked as chippie had his removed at exactly the same age.  We decided to proceed with the surgery and that happened on Wednesday.

I need to stress at this point, my daughter will not be winning any awards for patient of the year. In fact she was a total terror and the whole ordeal was pretty traumatic. I am waiting at some point for my lovely normal daughter to return. I have been told it could be around 3.5 so for the next few months we are sitting pretty.

She also had a chest infection. However as I stated above, it was just our normal life at the moment so we didn’t think too much of it but it was pretty bad to the point they had to swap her breathing tube over when she was under anesthetic.

We arrived at 6.30am to admissions and given Molly’s age we were the first to go through.

She lost the plot when they went to put her name tag on her ankle. Resulting in a total melt down, she ran off into the waiting area, laid down on the floor screaming “it’s yucky, it’s yucky, it hurts” she actually thought she couldn’t walk with the tag on her ankle. After 15 minutes of soothing, negotiating and one episode of the little princess we were able to put it on and go through to the next stage. Meanwhile if you weren’t awake for your surgery YOU WERE NOW.

She refused to let them put the clicker on her finger to take her temp / oxygen levels. Flat out refused. Dealt with the magic wand temperature gauge.

Did not crack a single smile for one medical professional. They all received the most horrific scowl ever seen. She didn’t talk to them or acknowledge them and all but gave them the middle finger. She was scared, tired and hungry.

She did let me change her out of her night nappy into her knickers. At least that was easy.

Wouldn’t lay down on the bed unless I was with her.

Wouldn’t let them wheel her in to waiting area.

Now. This was the most traumatic part which was going into theater. Only one of us could go and we said I would be better at dealing with her melt down. And oh my, what a melt down it was. It took the anesthetist, nurse and myself to hold her down. She was kicking and screaming and refused to let us put the mask on her face. She had the strength of 100 men. She was kicking and screaming until the bitter end until she fell asleep. It was when her tiny little body was on the bed that I allowed myself to cry as I had been so bloody worried and scared but she was such a tiny terror that I hadn’t time to actually think about the procedure. I ran out looking for my husband to have a little cry.

Then we had to wait until we were allowed to go into recovery.

Cue, the next stage of hell.

She had a needle in her hand just in case. Which she was petrified of. They needed to monitor her oxygen and she hated the clip on her toe. She was like a wild animal.

But worse, because of the missed chest infection her oxygen levels were really low. She was wan, pale and not looking good. We had to get the levels way up before she was allowed to go back into the patients area and have anything to eat. She just wanted to sleep but we had to keep her awake to get her breathing well. The surgery itself went very well and was a success but the recovery was bad.

She still hated everyone.

The nurse tried to reason with her (yeah, that has me stumped. I mean she is three ;)) and she yelled in her face “stop talking to me”. I mean in hindsight it was funny but mortifying at the time.

Most of all I could see she was scared and all she wanted was her mum and dad and to sleep and for the love of god she wanted that darn apple juice she was promised. They gave in and let her have a lemonade icy pole but in the end we had to give her a nebulizer and only after that did her oxygen levels improved and then they let her sleep with me.

After five hours she was allowed to eat so it had been a good 18 hours since food and she was ravenous (a good sign) and after another 30 minutes I was able to get her oxygen levels so we could go home.

She immediately fell asleep in the car and that was traumatic driving home on my own (Chippie had gone to work) I kept checking to see she was breathing and kept yelling MOLLY to wake her up. Then she slept at home for 3.5 hours and woke up a better person, after her weetbix.

The next day it was like she had never had surgery. She was running around, laughing and back to her cheeky self. Her hearing has improved dramatically and a week of antibiotics has meant that her chest infection has cleared and her raspy breathing is significantly improved.

It will take a few weeks for the drool and snot to stop.

It was a big week. It is not something I would ever willing do. It made me have a fresh level of appreciation for parents that deal with hospital visits all the time.

I would have preferred the poster child looking sick on the bed but charming the pants off the medical professionals but that wasn’t too be.

I think I just need to accept that my child is not the smile at everyone and run and hug them. She is introverted that way and takes a while to warm up to people, she observes and then considers. You need to be in her A team to get easy affection.

Now we are looking forward to a blessedly sick free period and an improvement in all areas of her life. And possibly. If not too much to ask an improvement in her bad attitude. Threenagers!

12w Challenge Update

I am now officially a third of the way through my 12 week challenge shape up for summer campaign organised by my gym.

When I set out to complete this I was honestly in a bit of denial about how much fitness I had lost and how much weight I had put on. Truthfully, I have done pretty much sweet FA since my last IVF in February. On average I was going to the gym 1.5x per week but really the effort I was putting in was subpar at best and I was in and out in 45mins. I am usually very fit and healthy but IVF always has played havoc with my fitness and emotional stability. You don’t want to do anything when you are in the process of IVF and then once you fail you are depressed and fed up and can’t be bothered doing anything at all. Working through this process is hard and you would think exercise would play a big part in getting your mojo back but it doesn’t always work that way.

One of the reasons that I really wanted to do this was to regain my zest and enthusiasm for life and with that comes an increased need for other things as it was heading in the wrong direction. I was tired, sluggish, grumpy and moody. Sure, I can attribute a fair bit of this towards winter but the reality was I was in a big deep self indulged rut and it wasn’t making me happy. I also wanted to feel better in my clothes. Doing a what I wore made me realise some of my clothes were getting a little bit tight (especially the jeans I wore in one photo) and it was a bit scary.  Lastly I want to feel good around Molly. Being an older parent you need to make sure you are on top of your game otherwise it is a whole lot harder to parent!

The first week was really hard. It was a wake up call to my body and by the end of the week I was exhausted. My house was a mess and I was all over the shop. My body was incredibly sore!

The second week we actually had a week away camping. I was pretty good and watched my food intake and didn’t over indulge and did as much as cardio as I could. This was fun, especially going for rides with Molly, stunning beach runs / walks and ab work as well. The last two days of our break were very cruisy but I was still quite active so I definitely didn’t come home heavier or more unfit than when I left.

The third week I like to think as my first REAL week of this challenge. I pushed myself physically and started getting into the swing of it. I worked out the hours that worked best in my schedule and I could feel myself getting stronger. I had some pretty bad muscle soreness, I cricked my neck and had to get adjusted by my fantastic chiro (I was literally lopsided) but it was a turning point. I was also less tired.

At the start of the fourth week I had to take a progress photo. It was good to see the progress, it wasn’t huge but in reality it was only three weeks of training including one week of that was on holidays therefore I was quite happy to see where I was at. I also had a huge week of training last week and did my first sub 30minute 5km run in over 10 months! I felt fantastic after that run and was on a high all day. I had two nights eating out however I tried to watch my intake and stick to healthy items. I have also significantly cut down on my alcohol intake since the start of this challenge and so has Chippie and I feel that is making a big difference.

More importantly after the end of this week I can feel my energy returning, my zest has definitely picked up and I am getting the balance of work, home, gym and life at a more manageable level. My trousers are also decidedly less snug and the ole leftie boob which likes to pop out of my bra is definitely down to more manageable levels! That bloody boob was my first indication of weight gain.

A third of the way through I am feeling energised and motivated and ready to hit the next 8 weeks hard.

I have been tracking on a page in my blog (not going to link it in as I don’t need the whole world to see) for those that are interested. I am finding it amusing within myself how easy it is to make excuses. The biggest one is “but I have no time” and “who will watch Molly?”. The reality is  that exercising is only an hour, 4.17% of my entire day. Getting up at 5.45am has been quite easy and going straight from work to the gym is better, I know once I get home it is 10x harder to get up and go again. Small changes for big results.

The best thing, I am going to really love our trip to Japan now as I will be fit and ready to hit the slopes. The idea of going over there and being so unfit I couldn’t enjoy what we had wanted to do for so long was a real motivator.

I know a few other people doing challenges right now so it’s been nice to have them around to talk about our progress. The other great thing is the new people I have met at my gym, the gym I have been going to for 5 years. I have got to know more people in the last month than I have in 5 years!