Some of you may know that Jane and I have been trying for a baby for a good few years now — since we were snuggly holed up in the Highlands of Scotland, in fact. But so far nothing. Not a hint of a pregnancy.
A few months ago (probably more than I would like to admit) Jane and I went to see one of the GPs at our local practice to enquire about what steps we could take to get ourselves checked out in the baby-making depts. Of course, the process had to begin with me and we left — after our 30 minutes consultation with the doctor — clutching a small, clear plastic pot and an A4 sheet of instructions.
The intructions were as clear as the pot: wait 3 days, deposit a semen sample in the pot (!) and run like the wind to the Royal Infirmary while keeping the pot at body temperature (like HOW!?). Needless to say, I’ve not been yet. (Was ‘been’ the right tense to use there?) For a couple of reasons: first, the last few months haven’t exactly been characterised by perfect health, and second, well, it’s a rather daunting prospect. Having children is something that I always imagined would just happen. Having them, I reckoned would be the easy bit; bringing them up and coping with that I always thought would be where the challenges would lie. I appear to be wrong.
Anyway, tomorrow is Thursday and therefore one of the days that I can take my sample into the hospital (I do hope they are open again after the holidays), and Jane is also on holiday so she is going with me, for moral support and to help me feel a little less self-conscious.
I’m not entirely sure what the process is once we get the results of the sperm sample… my sperm sample. As Jane said to me the other day, it is more likely that the problems lie with her as there is more there to go wrong. But once we start on this path it will be, I imagine, not always be an easy one. Here goes though…
Jane and I were in Cellardyke yesterday working on our house. We’re cracking ahead now with the decoration and repairs. Jane tackled the paint work in the conservatory and the living room while I installed some skirting board in the living room and small(er) bedroom. It was the first time I’d installed skirting board (do youinstall it?) and the result was rather good, even though I say so myself. I also had fun removing a built-in wardrobe in that bedroom, with a few well-placed kicks.
It won’t be long now until we have the carpets and linolium laid and can think about buying furniture; we even took a sneaky trip to IKEA yesterday evening, and came away with over £100-worth of lighting, which I’ll install on Thursday.
We’ve tried to go for energy saving lighting throughout the house — our little effort for the environment (and budget). What I couldn’t get in IKEA last night I managed to get in B&Q this morning. (Incidentally, B&Q observed a two minutes silence at midday for the victims of the tsunami in Asia … although it was actually 3 minutes and 26 seconds. Good effort, though!) The lighting at IKEA was impressively cheap, we got three uplighters for £7.90 each (!!) which should look great in the house. One of the problems with the house is that upstairs three of the rooms have no overhead lights, and in the rooms that do have lightswitches by the door, these control wall sockets! It’s like a scene from the film The Money Pit, with a Hollywood effects-crew-inspired wiring plan!
I was on the phone to Mum yesterday, she is going to come up on Friday morning and we’ll drive her up to Cellardyke to see the house. Mum hasn’t seen the interior of the house, as we couldn’t get the keys when she and Char (Anderson) visited in September; that was during the long drawn out episode between putting in an offer in July and finally completing the sale in November!
I keep forgetting to take the digital camera to the house to chart the progress, and perhaps even post a few pics on this blog. I’ll remember tomorrow, I promise…
This morning I received an e-mail from Logos (www.logos.com), I think because I installed some Bible software of theirs and foolishly agreed to receive every newsletter they could throw at me.
Anyway, in this morning’s e-mail I came across the following box-out:
Last Chance – The Encyclopedia of Christianity: Volumes 1-3
Publisher Suggested Retail: $300.00
Logos Bible Software Series X Suggested Retail: $300.00
Prepublication Special: $199.95
Not “last chance sale”; not “last chance opportunity”; not “last chance to buy this at the specially reduced price”. Just “last chance”! “Last chance”?! … do they know something about the forthcoming demise of Christianity that the rest of us don’t?