I didn’t call Miss Consultant’s non-answering service today. I had a !@£$ing bastard son of a bastard’s barstard bastard migraine instead. Welcome back, hormonal sleep-deprived skull-crusher moments. What did I ever do without you? Why, get up and go to work, of course.
Naturally, today was a day at work I didn’t want to miss because I have Too Much To Do and Not Enough Week To Do It In. And I will no doubt have massively inconvenienced my colleagues and made extra work for them as well. Tomorrow will be horrible.
It’s all my fault for cheerfully announcing to my boss that I don’t seem to get migraines any more, isn’t that cool?
Last night, I had a sulk, and a cry, and a talk with H, and a temper-tantrum, and a row with H, and another cry, and didn’t get to sleep until after 2am (no idea how long after 2am – I was refusing to put my glasses back on and look at the clock at this point). H tells me that it was round about then that he thought ‘May is almost certainly going to have a migraine after this. I must remind her to take the soluble ibuprofen tabs with her tomorrow.’ Alas, eheu, he forgot to remind me, and then I was stuck on a very crowded broken-down train for 40 minutes, unable to see anything on my right properly, with everyone’s scritching head-phone leakage feeling like someone scraping the lining of my skull with a tooth-pick. I still let the pregnant lady have my seat. Yes, I do want a freakin’ medal.
At least I wasn’t sick on British Rail property. For once.
While I was lying down with a pillow over my face with the radio on extremely quietly (to distract me from the whole eye-socket-on-verge-of-shattering thing. It sort-of works. It’s better than total silence. In total silence, I can hear the blood pulsing in the ear on the worst side, and it drives me frantic), H was having coffee with an acquaintance who has just adopted a toddler.
They shared a few ‘yeah, spending your 30s trying to get/stay pregnant sucks arse‘ anecdotes, and then this kind person passed on all sorts of tips, advice, insights and things-to-note about adopting from social services in this country.
It was useful. It was interesting. Yes, we are thinking about adoption, more and more often. In Britain, you can’t adopt while still pursuing biological children – this makes perfect sense to me. Adoption should be THE goal in its own right, not the consolation prize for failing your nth IVF cycle – so H and I are not quite there yet. Or we may decide it’s not for us, and remain childless (and I would totally get five cats and a pet raven (oh, come on! What’s not to love about a pet raven? I promise I won’t call it ‘Quoth’)). But possibilities always seem more possible once you know someone else in your own city who has already done it.
Did that make sense? No? Well, don’t blame me. I had a migraine earlier today and I am entitled to be muddled for the next 36 hours.