Item – I went to the chemist on Sunday afternoon, and I bought a bottle of low-dose aspirin, containing 100 75mg tablets, and it cost me £1.09. For 50 days’ supply. For a month and most-of-the-next-month’s supply. A whole pregnancy’s worth, 270 days or so, would cost less than £6. Less than $10. Just over €7. I have lost five pregnancies.
Item – I wonder how much 270 days’ worth of low molecular weight heparin costs?
Item – While I was at the chemist’s, I saw they had a special offer on boxes of ‘mother-and-father-to-be’ vitamins – each box contains two bottles, a pink one and a blue one. H had got these before, and I had been highly amused by them. Pink pills in pink bottles with a picture of a pregnant lady on the label, blue pills in blue bottles with a picture of a man’s hand resting on a woman’s hand resting on a naked and absolutely flat tummy. Because men would rather think about getting her pregnant, and women would rather think about being pregnant. Obviously. And then I bought them.
Item – the other brand of ‘his&her conception’ vitamins has a smiling, fully clad couple on the box. He’s embracing her from behind (oo-er) and smirking out at us something ghastly. A picture of a dozen-or-so manly blue sperm approaching a big pink egg floats before them. I damn well hope we are already doing better than a mere dozen or so sperm a shot. I can only assume that the manufacturers are assuming that the purchasers of their product have blanked out Biology class. So I bought that box too (oh, hey, three-for-two offers. I am powerless). Also, the man-pill in this contains pine extract. What? Why? Is this some kind of sympathetic magic? Pine trees, tall and straight and vertical?
Item – My mother’s take on this diagnosis and treatment plan: Shouldn’t I actually be going to a Naturopath to prepare my body for my next pregnancy? H, who luckily took that phone-call, merely pointed out that aspirin is made out of tree-bark, and what could be more natural than tree-bark? I don’t know what I would have said. No doubt something so caustic even Ben Goldacre would have exclaimed ‘steady on, old girl.’
Item – Anyway, we are fully stocked up on conceptive aids, it’s cycle day 8, we’re both feeling hopeful. This will probably bite me on the bum in ten… nine… eight…. Faith in the future? Ah ha ha ha ha. Onwards.