Archive for News

Be careful what you wish for

I complained last week that my life was no longer eventful enough to be blog-worthy.

This week I had a miscarriage.

I’m actually pretty sanguine about it though (heh, sorry). I didn’t know I was pregnant, and as I’ve posted here before, there isn’t a whole heap of difference between a ball of cells a few days before fertilization and one a few days after (or four weeks, in this case).

I’d suspected I was pregnant but the test came up negative so I guess the embryo was never viable. Then when I was two weeks late I haemorrhaged all these big clots, and that was it. No physical pain, and not really any sadness. The only sucky bit was having to go for an ultrasound to make sure there was no ectopic pregnancy or bits left behind.

Up to that point I’d felt like my body was doing its thing and following the best course of action at that time. But being poked and prodded by a technician made it seem more serious, made me feel broken rather than functioning normally.

I’m supposed to take it easy for a while, which is just what doctors say about anything involving female reproductive health, and I’m not supposed to try to conceive again for three months, which is roughly how often I manage to get laid anyway. So all in all not much to report.

Oh, except the GP got her words muddled and kept calling it a missed abortion instead of an early-stage abortion and it took all my energy to keep from saying “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Doctors hate when you say that 😀


A journey of a thousand miles…

…begins with two blue lines.

Two blue lines that I am staring at in the toilets at work, half jumping around, half panicking about what to do next. They aren’t the first lines – there were two earlier, pink ones.

The second pink one was so faint I hadn’t really believed it was there, and sort of hadn’t wanted to believe. But I checked the pack insert and it said however pale, consider yourself pregnant.

That hadn’t felt great, oddly. I’d been angry, sad, frustrated about the idea of leaving an amazing job 10 months after starting. Resentful that J would never have to make that career choice, or stop drinking, or completely remodel his body for the sake of a babe.

But then I took the second test, and despite all that initial negativity I found myself thinking “Please say yes, please say yes,” while I waited for the lines to appear.

And here we are. Two of us. Except the second of us is less than 1mm long and looks like this:

Neurulation at about 16 days post ovulation

Oddly enough, having erroneously declared myself pregnant countless times before, it blindsided me when it happened for real. I think I’ve previously grouped together a set of signs, and associated those with being pregnant. Even though I was wrong each time it still reinforced the signs I thought I was looking for.

In reality it was less like bad PMS than I’d been expecting. Some of the signs were similar – my boobs have been insanely sore and I’ve felt bloated – but the things that stood out to other people were stuffing myself with carbs, being oddly edgy, and feeling hungover without drinking. Based on those both M and J called it earlier in the week, but I didn’t believe either of them.

The strangest thing I’ve noticed is that I smell different. Not different as in bad – just that we each have our own scent (hence a perfume will suit one person but not another) but normally we don’t notice it cos we are exposed to it permanently. But a small change is enough that we can become aware of it again. For the past two weeks I’ve noticed the smell of warm skin moving around – weird and likely related.

$64,000 question – is it gonna affect our lifestyle? As long as people still want to fuck an edgy married pregnant lady, this edgy married pregnant lady is still gonna fuck. 🙂

The plot coagulates and curdles slightly

Wednesday afternoon – got sacked. Wednesday evening – sought solace in alcohol. Thursday – talked it through with my boss (while trying not to puke or faint, see Wednesday evening). Went into a weird grieving phase while trying to come to terms with this unpleasant but unchangeable situation. Friday afternoon – got offered a job dong something else at the company.

What. The. Fuck?

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Constructive dismissal

So it seems I’ve been sacked.

Except they’re not calling it that. The boss had a chat with me and suggested I wasn’t in the right company and perhaps I’d like to hand my notice in. I’m fairly certain I don’t have a choice though.

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No on 8, too late?

Last year Californians voted in favour of changing their state constitution so that marriage is defined as a union between one man and one women.

It was previously defined as a union between two people, meaning the state recognised same-sex marriages. The amendment is called
Proposition 8.

Now the “Yes on 8” guys have filed to forcibly divorce all same-sex couples married before the amendment was passed.

I am not American, and I don’t expect to ever marry a girl, but this shit should matter to all of us. The video below is beautiful and

“Fidelity”: Don’t Divorce… from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.


What better way to start the new year than finding yourself at 0630 in the local cop shop, saucer-eyed and gurning, trying to explain that the police have requisitioned access to your building. Try even saying requisitioned with that many drugs inside you.

It turns out there was a fire. Until 0005 on 01.01.09, there was a launderette on the ground floor. Now there is just a big hole and a lot of soot.

It’s a great testament to Edwardian architecture that the rest of the building is still structurally sound, and fortunately the place was empty so no one was hurt.

But there is smoke damage, water damage and post hoc structural damage (where the fire brigade gained entry to each floor).

There is also no power – the meters are melted to a wall somewhere. It’s likely to stay that way for at least a week (a third of the days we have left in the UK) so I can’t see us letting the place anytime soon.

Happy new year!

Organ donation, a simple (final) solution

There’s been a lot of guff about organ donation in the news lately.

Opt in, opt out? Be more like Spain, or more like China? Pay donors or not?

I have a simple solution:

We already have a stratified system – people have either said ‘yes, I’d like to donate my organs after my death’, or they haven’t responded.

Those who are on the ‘yes, harvest me’ list should be eligible for transplants if they need them. Those who aren’t? No transplants for them.

Can’t say fairer than that.