Let’s talk fertility

 

It’s National Fertility Awareness Week and my social feeds have been flooded with people sharing their stories, being open, honest and real. I’m joining the voices to help change the conversation about infertility.  

Because I love a good list (who doesn’t?) here’s 7 things I’ve learned about infertility.  

1. It doesn’t discriminate. 

Infertility doesn’t discriminate, it affects people seemingly at random. Young, old, rich, poor, marathon runners, couch potatoes. If infertility has chosen you, it will shrug heartlessly. So, you’ve been taking fertility vitamins for six months? Don’t care. You’ve given up alcohol? Pah, so what? You did a shoulder stand for a full half an hour after sex while you watched Coronation Street? Couldn’t give a monkeys. Nope, infertility takes no prisoners. It’s unfair and let’s be honest here, it’s more than a bit shit. 

2. It can sneak up on you.  

If you’re like me and got a diagnosis of unexplained infertility, it probably took you by surprise and left you reeling. I didn’t know I was infertile until I started trying for a baby. I still don’t know why I was infertile but I do know in affects more than 1 in 8 couples and you don’t have to look far to find others fighting the same battle. 

3. It’s the club no one wants to join but with the best members. 

What stands out to me most this week, is the love and support that people in the infertility community give so willingly to those they’ve never met. Because we know. We know the crushing disappointment at seeing one line on a stick. We know what’s it’s like to live your life in two weekly cycles. To do our very best to look happy when a friend tells us they’re pregnant and they weren’t even really trying. We know and we’re there for each other. We’re here in the middle of the night when you post photos of your negative pregnancy test. Or when you’re gearing up for your embryo transfer, wearing your best pineapple socks. Or when you’re about to do your first injection and are worried you’ll do it wrong or won’t be able to do it at all because you’re scared of needles and faint every time you have an injection. We see you and we’re here for you. 

4. It changes you permanently.  

And not necessarily in a bad way. Those of you who’ve read my first book, Warrior, will know that I got my happy ending. I’m eternally grateful that my family is now complete. I know I’m blessed and in truth I wouldn’t change what I went through to get here. It’s changed me. In a good way. I don’t take things for granted. I have more humility and I always try to be sensitive to others people’s silent struggles.  

5.  You’re not alone. 

After I had my baby, I felt compelled to share my story. By then I knew I wasn’t alone in what I went through and I also knew I had an opportunity to help. I’ve since been humbled by personal messages from lovely readers who say my book has done just that and for me, that makes it worthwhile. 

6. It doesn’t leave you. 

 More recently, I’ve launched my second book, The Unchosen Life. I don’t think infertility really left me, as I was plagued by a feeling of What If? What if I hadn’t got pregnant? What if I hadn’t had a baby? I needed to know I’d have been okay anyway. Because that’s the reality for many women and there has to be life after infertility. There has to be. So, I dreamed up Clara. The woman whose infertility journey doesn’t end with a baby and how she goes on to find fulfilment in a life she didn’t choose. 

7. There’s always hope. 

There’s hope for a happy ending, however it may look. Wherever you are in your infertility journey and whatever your personal circumstances, don’t let go of that hope. And know that whatever happens you’ll be okay. Seek out support and most of all, be kind to yourselves. 

Love, Tori x 

P.S. In support of National Fertility Awareness Week both Warrior and The Unchosen Life are 99p on Amazon Kindle for the whole of November.

Blast off!

My second baby is born.

My book officially launched on Wednesday, the launch event was brilliant, big thanks to Giddy Arts, Cap and Collar and all who came.

I was honoured by the turn out and the support from so many lovely people in my life. If you’ve read my previous blogs you’ll know public speaking is not my thing and reading out what is essentially my personal diary to a room full of people had been giving me the jitters. However, I did it. I may have been a bit wobbly in parts and had to pause a few times to take deep breaths regain my composure, but I blooming well did it. The round of applause I got at the end and the kind and thoughtful comments after, made it all worthwhile. I’m not ashamed to say I was a little bit proud of myself. I’ve done things I thought I couldn’t do and it may sound clichéd, but I’ve realised the only thing holding me back was myself. A little bit of credit to my husband here, over the last eight years, he’s helped me to believe I can do a whole lot more than I’d decided I could. You’re not bad 😉

To go back to the start, slightly over a year ago, I excitedly wrote my first blog post I’ve written a book. For a long time, I was nervous about telling anyone what I was doing. Due to a lack of confidence, I thought people might not take me seriously. Probably more importantly, I thought I might not take myself seriously. That I might one day throw it all in the bin and chastise myself for thinking I could write or that anyone would be interested in my story. But deep down, I knew. I knew I have a story similar to so many others, the pain and heartbreak of struggling to make a baby. The fear that it may never happen, the angst and despair as what starts out as excitement and hope morphs into worry and dread. The obsession that takes over your life, the inability to see things clearly, the way trying to conceive dominates your life and affects your relationships with others in ways you couldn’t have imagined. I know this resonates, I know I wasn’t alone in what I went through. None of us are, and yet the long road of infertility is a lonely and isolating place. I hope my little contribution will offer others a connection point, something to relate to and maybe, just maybe raise a few smiles in the darkest of hours.

Lots of love to all.

Tori x

P.S. You can buy the book here.
Follow me on Twitter @Toridaywrites

Promoting my self published book

So there’s five days to go until my official launch and things are hotting up. I’m on Amazon and I’ve got some reviews already, how exciting!

Since I last blogged, I’ve been on the radio again, with the lovely Stephanie Hirst on Radio Leeds (go to 46 mins in if you want to listen). I’m up straight after George Ezra and ‘Bupapest’ will now forever make me feel nervous. Sitting in a studio like the ones I’ve only seen on the telly before, waiting for a light to go red which means I’m live on air and 30,000 people are listening, was a nerve wracking experience. But Steph was lovely and as soon as we started I felt myself relax and am proud to say when I listened back, I sounded reasonably articulate and quite comfortable with the subject matter (which I am, totes). She even let me get a selfie with her after – see below. My husband said ‘You didn’t sound like a numpty’ (erm cheers) and my sister said ‘Just listened. Made me teary. You are brilliant.’ (love her)

So that’s that and suddenly more people are reading my blog and I have sold some books already! I’ve said before, being an #indieauthor is tough and self-promoting can feel uncomfortable, but if I put aside that I’m promoting my own work and think about the people I’m hoping to reach and possibly offer a bit of comfort to, then that motivates me to keep going.

I’ve been interviewed in our local magazine (pg 22) which was a pleasure. Print is much more my comfort zone than being ‘live on air’ (mini shudder). Thank you to my friend Jenna who knows the editor and passed on their contact details when the standard ‘submissions@’ address yielded no results.

And big thanks to Fertility Network UK for posting my press release. 10% of my profits will go to the charity and they’ve also been supporting my release on their social media channels which has given me a boost. Happy days.

Oh yes, so what have I learnt? What’s my advice to other #indieauthors? It’s this; put yourselves out there, ask people for favours, find ways in. Believe in yourself (said in a non-cheesy way) and use your own networks to promote – friends and family will be your biggest advocates and word of mouth is a powerful marketing tool.

Five days to go – eek!

Love Tori x

On the radio

On Monday I did my first ever radio interview. A friend old of mine, Peg Alexander who happens to work in TV and radio encouraged me to do it when we were out for dinner at a mutual friend’s birthday recently, and I’m glad she did. I have to confess, when she first suggested it, the very thought was enough to strike fear into my heart. Live on the radio? What if I say the wrong thing? What if I’m so nervous my voice shakes, or I clam up and can’t speak at all? I very quickly realised I had to stop ‘what iffing’ and blooming well get on with it if I wanted to make a go of promoting my book. I dutifully wrote my press release and my friend sent it to her contacts. Within five minutes I had a phone call from a radio producer inviting me onto their show in a few days’ time. I said yes, then instantly wondered what I’d let myself in for. Luckily it was being interviewed by Peg which put me at ease, she’s had her own fertility struggles and I knew she’d ‘get it’ and it’d all be ok.

That didn’t stop me frantically preparing on Monday and writing down everything I could possibly say – I know, I’m a huge geek. I was going over my notes when the phone, carefully positioned next to them, rang and made me jump out of my skin. The friendly producer told me I’d be live on air after Tina Turner – eek. Listening to Simply the Best, heart pounding, there was only one thing for it. I stood up from my desk and adopted the power stance. Yep, full on superwoman style – chest out, shoulders back, hands on hips and deep breaths. You feel a bit of a wally, and I hoped my neighbours weren’t peering through the window, but it works. It’s hard to feel shy and nervous when you’re standing like a superhero ready to take on the world. Tina Turner finished and the presenter started to introduce the topic for discussion and…the line went dead. Argh! What should I do? Call back? Wait for them to realise and call me back? What if we called at the same time and both got the engaged tone? (Yes, I’m an overthinker.) After staring at the phone for a few seconds, power stance wavering, I called them back, and they answered, reconnected me, and all was fine. Phew! I pretended it was just me and Peg talking and was my normal self. Apart from stuttering over the word ‘implantation’, I think I did a reasonable job, no shaky voice and no clamming up all together.

Aside from cringing at the sound of my own voice when I listen, the clip is actually pretty ok and I’m proud of doing something that scared me. Reading at my launch should be a breeze after this.

So, here it is – false start where I’m cut off and all. https://soundcloud.com/pegalexander/tori-day-interview-25-march-2019

Tori Day Interview – 25 March 2019 Radio presenter Peg Alexander chats to author Tori day about infertility. An honest conversation between two women who know what its like to not get pregnant. soundcloud.com

And that’s not all. The day after I got invited to Radio Leeds to chat to them about my book and I found myself saying yes, without hesitation or trepidation. This time I’m going into the studio, exciting! I wonder if they’ll mind me power stancing in there….?

Moral of the story – do scary stuff, it pays off.

Thanks for the nudge Peg!

Love Tori x

No shame

I’ve been very quiet on the blog front. My book has taken a back seat as I’ve got a new job and moved house, into a ‘do-er upper’. Real life gets in the way and it’s been all about stripping walls, choosing paints and receiving eye watering quotes from tradespeople 😲. That paired with trying to understand a whole new world of jargon and acronyms at work, getting to know lots of new people and figuring out how to make and impact in my new role, hasn’t left time for much else.

I was prompted to write this post in support of #fertilityweek18, I got as far as the first paragraph, then life got in the way again. Now I’m aware I’m now a bit late to the party…oops. I’ll continue anyway, as I’m a firm believer in talking about fertility struggles; it shouldn’t be shrouded in silence and there should absolutely be no shame.

Like many, my fertility struggles crept up on me. I’d never had any reason to think there’d be a problem, my periods had always been regular and I was fit and healthy. I have curvy hips which once prompted a friend to say ‘You look like you’d get pregnant easily’. This made me smile at the time as we’d only just embarked on our trying to conceive journey and I believed it’d be true. Each month we’d eagerly await the time we could reliably test, analysing every possible early pregnancy symptom, which cruelly are very similar to symptoms of your period arriving. Each month we felt just a little crushed at the sight of that one line. Were we doing it right? Why wasn’t it working?

After the months passed by, my hopefulness and excitement slowly morphed into frustration, fear, and eventually, obsession. I would dream of seeing two lines on a white stick and of having a lovely round belly, full of a baby. Then I’d wake and feel grief wash over me. Then guilt. I hadn’t lost anything, I didn’t have any right to feel grief. I needed to get a grip. I didn’t have the right to be wallowing. I could do better than that. And anyway, it was probably just a matter of time. Sadly, I’m sure this cycle of thinking will be familiar to many. It’s not helpful that we beat ourselves up for feeling sad about something that is sad.

In the end it was a matter of time. Two and a half years to be precise. And also a matter of medical intervention. God bless IVF for giving us our beautiful daughter. We’re blessed to have our happy ending, but it’s real life, so the story doesn’t end there. We’re now #tryingagain and after a few false starts and a miscarriage, I’m trying hard not to be back in that space.

To anyone currently struggling, lots of love and support to you. We can take comfort in the fact that we’re not alone and the world is slowly becoming more aware, more sensitive and kinder to those experiencing fertility issues. I believe we can help each other by speaking out, being open and telling the truth when people ask when. There is no shame.

Love Tori x

The end is in sight!

I’ve had my manuscript back from my editor and am so glad I decided to bite the bullet and hire a professional. Everyone I asked, advised that I should. At first I was reluctant to spend the money as an #indieauthor, but I’m confident it was worth it. I feel so much better now that a professional has seen it and she didn’t say ‘this is rubbish, what are you doing?’ – phew. It must be ok.

I’m confident my book is now as shiny as it can be and I also now know the difference between a hyphen and an en-dash and when to use them, so, you know, that’s a big plus.

Thank you Helena Fairfax!

For the moment the ball is out of my court as it’s with my proof reader (a willing volunteer via work) and the awe inspiring Jessica Hepburn who has agreed to puff for me. See my earlier blog if you’re wondering what on earth I’m going on about. Hopefully she won’t think it’s rubbish and will still want to give me a quote for the cover when she’s done reading *crosses fingers*.

In other news, I’ve been having a bit of a wobbly time post miscarriage and trying again. It’s struck me that a lot of the support for miscarriages talks about grief and working through the feelings of loss, which is totally valid, but I haven’t found much in terms of support for trying again after loss. Surely a lot of people will go on to try again after a miscarriage and this brings a whole new set of challenges. Will it happen again quickly? If it does, will I be anxious about losing the pregnancy again? Will I feel guilty for moving on quickly, like I’m being disrespectful to the baby who didn’t make it? If it doesn’t happen quickly will I worry that it won’t happen at all, that that was the one chance – yes. I already worry about this. I’ve found myself re-reading my book from a new standpoint. I’m back there. I’m trying to conceive again and it’s by no means a smooth ride.

I’ve been flailing, a little bit. I know a lot of what I’m going through is a hangover from my previous fertility struggles. It’s not all about now. And it’s not all the time either. Sometimes I genuinely am feeling fine, but other times I struggle. Luckily, I have a tendency to be honest when people ask how I am, so when an old friend text me out of the blue asking just that, she got the full story. Even more luckily, that friend happens to be a lifestyle coach and has offered to do a neuro-linguistic programming session with me, to help me let go of what’s gone before and ‘release my anchored feelings’. Cheers Mel, looking forward to it. Hope to be feeling more stable soon.

Take care out there.

Tori x

 

I didn’t mean it

I didn’t mean it when I said I was jealous I couldn’t have a beer on holiday, or Brie in my sandwich, or when I said I was worried about going back to sleepless nights, or that I didn’t know how I was going to manage looking after a toddler and a newborn. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t want this. I wanted you. I loved you.

You were only as big as a lentil. You were there for such a short space of time, but you were there and you were real. You were real to me.

I knew I was pregnant for two weeks. Not long. But it was long enough to talk about whether you’d be a girl or a boy. Long enough to discuss the new sleeping arrangements in our house to accommodate you. Long enough to apply cocoa butter to my tummy morning and night. To take folic acid. To dig out our list of baby names and discuss which ones we still liked. To look through my maternity clothes and think about whether I had the right stuff for the right seasons. To download a pregnancy workout app. To know what the age gap between you and your big sister would be and how you’d play together. To talk to my tummy. To research aqua natal classes. To plan. To imagine. To dream.

To leave a space in our hearts.

Long enough.

 

It’s been quite a dramatic first two months of ttc for number two. After spending a full day in hospital yesterday, ruling out an ectopic pregnancy, I’m finding myself relieved that it’s ‘just a miscarriage’. What an odd place to be in.

My book, I’m still working on final edits, not much to say there just now. Though it’s looking like I might be gathering enough material for a sequel.

I’ll be back on form soon.

Tori x

Let’s talk about trying to conceive

A brief interlude from the chronicles of self-publishing, in support of National Infertility Awareness Week. The campaign encourages people to #TalkAboutTrying, #flipthescript and #saythefword (fertility, not the f word).

Talking about trying was something I wrestled with during my own fertility journey. My natural instinct is to talk and share what I’m going through. I feel lonely and isolated if I keep it things to myself. Generally, if someone asks, they get the full story, warts and all. Usually that’s fine, but I did encounter two issues:

1. People have a tendency to say the wrong thing.
2. Ending up with a list of people who want to be ‘kept up do date’ at every stage.

Let’s take point number one first. Anyone who’s suffered fertility issues will have been on the receiving end of unhelpful comments, however well intentioned. Just for fun – here’s a few of my personal favourites:

• ‘It’ll happen when you least expect it.’
• ‘Just relax and stop thinking about it.’
• ‘Go out and get drunk – it worked for me!’

When I least expect it? So if I became a lesbian / joined a nunnery and took a vow of celibacy, I’d miraculously become pregnant? That’d be when I’d least expect it. I’m not going to stop expecting it and hoping for it, when there’s the remotest chance I could actually be pregnant.

Stop thinking about it. I don’t need to explain to anyone who’s been there, why this is impossible. It’s like asking Santa to stop thinking about delivering presents, or Mother Teresa to stop thinking about the needy. Trying to conceive, for good or bad, becomes your sole purpose. It’s all you can think about. When you’re standing in the queue in a coffee shop, your mind is going over dates and calculations, working out the optimum time to have sex. When you’re in a meeting at work, you’re arguing with yourself about whether to take a pregnancy test a day earlier than you decided you’d allow yourself to. When you’re driving home, you’re wondering whether you should have done that shoulder stand for an extra two minutes, as that could have been the one thing that made the difference between your dreams coming true and trudging on in this state of semi-existence.

Go out and get drunk? That may help for the blessed fertiles who are not even trying, through lowering their inhibitions enough to skip the contraception for the night. But really? Get drunk? I don’t think I need to say any more on that one, the ridiculousness speaks for itself.

Now I’ve come back on each comment with sarcasm (I’m British, it’s what we do), I have to say, hand on heart, I know friends and family mean well. Whatever they say, I honestly believe they want to help. No one who loves us would intentionally say something to make us feel worse. So, perhaps we need to help them help us. I work in communications and am au fait with developing lines to take on all sorts of subject matters. In this case, I think what’s needed is a ‘lines not to take’ – please don’t say any of these things to me (see above). It’s probably best to just listen, be there. Helpful suggestions are not going to be that helpful, unless you’re a qualified fertility specialist.

So, onto keeping people up to date at every stage – this is where my husband and I differ greatly. If it were down to him, no one would have known anything about our fertility woes. They’d have been left wondering why we hadn’t reproduced yet, speculating about problems or us being one of those couples who doesn’t want a family. I’ve been known to have a sort of personal info Tourette’s; ask me an innocent question like ‘do I want kids?’, ten minutes later I’ll be telling you about my cervical mucus and asking your opinion on whether we should have sex again tonight or wait a couple of days for a fresh batch of sperm cooking up.

Me being me, I ended up with a rather large group of people who knew every intimate stage of my journey, then understandably wanted to be kept up to date on each step. Every test result, every appointment every ‘what next?’. It becomes exhausting. You go through it for real, then you go through it again and again as you re-tell the sorry tale at each lunch with a friend, phone call with a family member or water cooler encounter with a co-worker.

Perhaps what’s needed is one update, broadcast to everyone, issued like a press release – here’s the latest scoop. Some might choose to use a blog for this purpose, saving themselves from telling their story over and over. For others, maybe a blanket text to their nearest and dearest would serve better.

I hope #NIAW will help with some of these issues. If talking about infertility becomes normal, it’ll help friends and family find the right words. It shouldn’t be taboo and it shouldn’t be dismissed as no big deal. It’s a continuous struggle, it’s heart breaking every day, it’s climbing a mountain only to find someone keeps moving the summit. We need support from our loved ones and we need to be understood.

In the spirit of sharing everything with everyone, I’m turning my own personal fertility story, along with survival techniques I learned along the way, into a book. My hope is that it may make some fellow sufferers feel a bit less alone, a bit less like they’re going insane and maybe raise a few smiles and laughs along the way.

It’s coming soon, my little contribution to the struggling with fertility community.

Love, Tori x

A maiden voyage into self publishing

After my first rather enthusiastic post announcing I’d written a book, it’s all gone a bit quiet. It turns out I’m still writing a book. Writing is re-writing, as they say in the industry. I thought getting an initial draft I was reasonably happy with was the hard part, the bulk of the work done. Not quite the case, but that’s ok, I’m on a voyage of discovery and am having quite a bit of fun along the way. It’s a shame my actual job hols me up sometimes, though I’m lucky that working in communications and marketing, I do get to do plenty of what I love at work too.

When I’m not working or looking after my toddler, I’m immersed in the rabbit warren which is Twittersphere learning about book review sites, upcoming fertility conferences, marketing opportunities, editing, proofreading, fertility publications, reading endlessly, it goes on and on.

So, as I’m on my maiden voyage into the self publishing world, I’ve decided to focus this blog on my experiences, what I’m learning, the mistakes I’ll undoubtedly make and any helpful tips I can offer others on the same path.

First things first; editing my work to get it ship shape and shiny, ready to be published. I’ve now learned enough about self publishing and being an #indieauthor (get me, hashtagging and everything) to know I have a responsibility to the self publishing community to get my work to a professional standard before putting it out there.

I’ve been working my way through Jessica Bell’s Writing in a Nutshell series (highly recommended). I’m learning all about showing not telling (writing 101, right?), the six senses, how to edit your own work; writers tics – I’ve cut 1000 words from my manuscript by removing ‘superfluous words’, who knew I said ‘just’, ‘really’, ‘think’ and ‘feel’ quite so much?! Actually a bit sad that my word count is 1000 words down, but I know the book will be better for it so I’ll get over it.

I consider myself a perfectionist when it comes to writing and a bonafide grammar nerd. (I know, I’m opening myself up to people pointing out grammatical errors in this blog, go for it, I’m always happy to learn 🙂 ). I’m one of those people who’ll stand outside a coffee shop, looking at the chalk board menu, saying to my husband (or whoever else is around to listen) they don’t need an apostrophe in paninis, it’s plural paninis, not the panini’s bread or the panini’s tomato. Nothing can belong to a panini! I’ve said panini way too many times now, I’ll stop. That said, I’ve found myself scratching my head over the nitty gritty of grammar rules. With the more complicated rules, I confess I’ve often got by through relying on my gut instinct as a native English speaker. Knowing if it ‘sounds right’ it probably is, but once you start to over-analyse, you question yourself. A few hours of Googling later and I’m finding I’m ready to be a free spirit, no longer caring if I should be using ‘that’ or ‘which’, taking on the mind-set of the grammar anarchist – who cares, the reader knows what I mean! It’s a pain staking process, but I’ll get there, I will get there!

Grammar aside, I’ve had some amazing feedback from my beta readers, and a very helpful developmental edit from the lovely Sam and Cristina at Manufixers – thanks guys! Just to back track momentarily, when I say ‘amazing’, I don’t mean they said my book was amazing, I mean it was amazing as it turned on a light bulb in my head, giving me access to the answers that were lurking in the depths of my brain somewhere.

My book is my story, my trying to conceive memoir. It’s written in diary format as it’s based on my journal kept at the time. Further to feedback, I’m now carefully editing sections to make them more present, bringing my ‘characters’ (who are actually real people) to life with action and dialogue. I’m merrily making my husband and step daughter three dimensional – what an odd sentence to end on, but there you go – that’s where I’m at, in case you were wondering.

Coming up next, I’ll be blogging about book cover design (perhaps even including a sneak preview), marketing, preparing the manuscript to self publish and maybe some other stuff I haven’t thought of yet.

Thanks for reading, any thoughts or suggestions welcome. 🙂

Tori x

P.S. You can now follow me on Twitter @toridaywrites

I’ve written a book

I remember as though it were yesterday, my tutor on my creative writing course at uni rolling her eyes at my first short fiction submission. To give her her due, it was awful, but come on, I was 19 and my baseline for ‘good’ writing, was articles in Sugar and Just Seventeen magazines. She may as well have told me that my annoying inner voice telling me not to bother as I’m never going to be a good writer, was right. Well in your face creative writing tutor, I’m back and this time I have a story to tell that doesn’t involve a teenage girl going on a date and then thinking her new boyfriend is cheating on her, but lo – it turns out he’s a twin and it’s him she’s spied with another girl! (I know, told you it was awful). Phew, looks like I had to get that off my chest, didn’t even realise I’d been holding on to it. So, back to the matter in hand – I’ve written a book.

I’ve been writing stories from as soon as I could write, my best friend and I would pen colourful books about our my little ponies and sylvanian families, complete with crayoned illustrations, then read them out to any audience we could gather – our not so willing siblings, slightly more obliging parents or even better – each other.

I was an avid journal keeper throughout my teenage years (cringe when I read those back now). This continued sporadically through adulthood, and when me and my husband starting struggling to conceive our baby, it ramped up with a vengeance, my pen scribbling out all my angst, despair and hope onto the pages of my journal. Our daughter was born three years and three months after we started trying to conceive and our world took on the rose tinted sheen of new parents. Awe, bewilderment and elation permeated our existence.

During those bubble like, sleep deprived months, I found myself again reaching for the notebook. I had an overwhelming urge to write. I knew, I had to tell my story. Not only did I finally have something to write about, but writing about it could also, help people – win. I know I’m not alone in struggling to conceive, in fact I’d probably describe my experience as fertility issues-light when I look at what others go through. But, I know I would have liked to read a book like the one I’ve (very nearly) finished writing.

The trying to conceive journey is a lonely and isolating place, and people don’t really ‘get it’ unless they’ve been there. So I hope that my story might help others, as I tell my tale with what I hope is complete candour, vulnerability and at times a sense of humour. When life tests you, you really find out who you are. It’s easy to be happy, upbeat and positive when everything’s rosy. Navigating the emotional roller-coaster of infertility, without losing yourself and giving into obsession is no mean feat. So, just now, my book is being read by some willing volunteers on their own fertility journey and it may undergo some final edits before it’s brought forth into the world, via Kindle Publishing Direct. Watch this space…

Tori x