Cluck cluck

I fear that my cluckiness has returned. With a friends four month old that I see practically every day, the dozens of newborns at Church each Sunday, and preparing my sister-in-laws baby shower, I seem to be confronted with babies everywhere. And I am yearning, physically desiring a baby of my own. As Yoda might say, the reproductive urge is strong in this one!

It's not just me though. Murray is fawning over our friends little girl. He picks her up now with no reticence, swings her from side to side, and is even confident enough to hold her when she cries which he never used to do. He came home the other day and said how, although he has always wanted a little boy, he would be even happier for us to have a little girl. How he can't wait for my belly to be full with our baby.

Murray's 'other woman'

I tease myself by looking at prams as they pass by, able to tell the make and model like men do with expensive cars.

We lie in each others arms at night, comforting ourselves with our dog-children and each other. And we are eternally grateful that we have each other. We are grateful to live in the 'lucky country', lucky to be healthy, lucky to have our families, so every lucky in many respects. Yet we are still not whole.

Our final donor counselling session is three weeks away, after which we can start IVF. Each day takes us a step closer to the light at the end of the tunnel.