Wednesday, 4 November 2009


There is a Greek myth about a dude called Tantalus. I say dude, he was actually a pretty nasty bloke. In order to prove that he could pull one over on the immortals, he killed and cooked his own son, Peplops, and fed him to the Gods to see if they'd notice they were eating a human. For Peplops the story has a happy ending; the Gods realised what had happened after a mere nibble of his shoulder, and he was revived and given and ivory replacement.

Tantalus, deservedly, wasn't so lucky.

He ended up in the underworld and was cursed with an unquenchable thirst and stomach-cramping hunger. His personalised version of hell was to be surrounded by fruit trees dripping with ripe juicy fruit just a fraction out of reach, and water lapping round his ankles. Whenever he stretched out to grab a peach a breeze tugged the fruit a little further away. When he bent to cup water in his hands to drink, it would instantly recede leaving him dry.

Much as I am sure you enjoyed that little lesson, I'm sure you are wondering what it has to do with me.

Pregnancy to me is like Tantalus' fruit. It is so near I can almost taste it (if that isn't too grim a metaphor). There is no reason why I shouldn't be pregnant. In fact the last four months have seen me ovulate on time and to order. This is the first time this has happened since I started trying to conceive and makes me hopeful that the mirena coil might have whipped my hormones into shape during its six month tour of duty.

The feedback I've had during my IUI's about how I have responded to clomid has been fantastic, as has the husband's sperm analysis. No one has said anything to make me believe that a pregnancy is out of reach.

But every time I try and grasp it it floats away.

I yearn for a child in the same way Tantalus yearned for food and water. We are both in our personal hell.

The difference is, as far as I can tell, I haven't done anything wrong.

I feel like my ovaries are tantalising me.

If all goes according to plan I should ovulate in the next day or so, and then I'll be ripe for the plucking (and for any rhyming slang you care to insert at this juncture). I hope the fruits of our labour will be a fruitful labour.


  1. I feel the same way. Exactly. Hoping you get good and plucked this time. ;)

  2. Ride on, ride hard.

    Best of luck.

  3. "hope you get 'plucked'"!

    Nice one Lea

    Wishing you luck :-)

  4. Is this an IUI month or a try on your own month? Best of luck either way.

  5. It is the most hateful feeling, isn't it? We're doing everything RIGHT, so why the hell hasn't it WORKED argh argh argh. Much empathy.

    And fingers crossed, as ever.

  6. This is a great post, and it sucks that we all know that feeling of being caught in our own personal hells. Go ovaries!!

  7. I feel your pain. We were given glowing fertility reports when we were each tested and yet pregnancy still took forever to happen. Its frustrating and emotionally draining.
    It's hard to understand why your fertility can be textbook "normal" and yet pregnancy is so elusive. ... but that's also "normal".
    Hoping good thoughts for you.

  8. Oh Liz. This post really does capture the frustration and the deep, visceral aching for a child that comes with infertility.

    I am hoping with all my heart that your wait may not be too much longer.

  9. Well written - you said it.

    It's so awful to have your hopes repeatedly raised and dashed, and not even know why.

    This time, be lucky, get pluck-y!

  10. I know what you mean. I ovulate every month and John's SA results came back declaring his swimmer Olympic gold standard, but still no joy.

    I'm trying to think of an original joke involving the word 'pluck' for you.

    How about 'pluck off, the pair of you'?

  11. Why thank you Lea, as do I!

    Such eloquence, Xbox

    Ta Mick

    Try on our own Megan, they make me wait a month between the IUIs

    And Argh again Nuts

    Cheers Irrationalexuberance

    I need all you've got Batty

    Thanks Amanda, I know its normal, but you're right it is bloody frustrating.

    Thank you Ms Heathen, I appreciate it.

    Cheers Ducky! I mean Twangy

    Pluck you Jane G! (do I need an emoticon here?)


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