There are two possible explanations for my recent feeling of queasiness. A) That fish and chips really was a bit dodgy. B) I am pregnant.

Yah, yah, you’ve read that right. She-of-the-lacking-broodiness is trying for a baby. Although the term ‘trying’ might be a bit misleading. I find the whole calculating of ‘good days’ rather off-putting. And don’t even get me started on going to sleep with your legs akimbo. We have dropped contraception and will see what happens. If anything happens.

A few years ago, I was diagnosed with PCOS and told getting pregnant could be a bit of a struggle. Well, it wasn’t.

It’s funny how knowing that you (theoretically) can get pregnant makes you hold your breath once a month. I am trying my best not to get too excited about the whole idea, because with PCOS, you are much more likely to be faced with secondary infertility.

I would like to have another baby. Or let me put it that way: I wouldn’t mind another baby. I know that if I were pregnant and if I had that baby, I would love him just as much as I love little L. But there is no crazy longing for another baby. In fact, if it doesn’t happen within the next year, I am going to put it to rest and get one of these instead:

Of course I know that it’s not the same. But we are going to be just as happy. And only half as tired.