- Just about every haircut I have ever had. Luckily it grows, so no long term worries there.
- Picking scabs on my legs as a child. I still have the scars - that, and my unfeasibly short legs, put an end to any ambitions I harboured as a leg model.
- Not picking up on the small print about being liable for freeholder repairs when we purchased our flat - the eventual bill was the same as the price of my first flat. Literally. Gulp.
- Staying at a job I hated for two years, rather than quitting it after 2 weeks when I realised it wasn't for me and if I stayed any longer I would be reduced to a weeping, quivering wreck. (I was, it wasn't pretty).
- Picking the Etruscan module rather than Greek Literature in my final year at Uni. (No long term impact for this, but I'd already studied most of the texts for A Level, so missed an easy ride there).
- Not asking my Mum how she made her lamb and mint casserole. I have never been able to recreate that dish.
Sorrow. But not regret.
It is for this reason that I am being so extreme about my pre-IVF plan. Realistically I don't think that the total abstinence of booze, or tea, is going to have a dramatic effect on my fertility. I am slightly dubious as to whether my weekly yoga class does anything other than hammer home just how unsupple I have become in the last ten years since I practiced yoga regularly. And I have to stifle a giggle sometimes, when my acupuncturist starts getting too overexcited about aligning energy or some such nonsense.
If, when the coil is removed in November, I am not deemed suitable for IVF, or have IVF and it fails, I don't want to be able to blame myself for any of it. I don't want to look back and wish I had done something differently.
And so far I feel relatively at ease with how I have played this hand I've been dealt. Sure, I wish I had pushed more for appointments and investigations and compressed the last four years into two. But generally I feel OK.
I don't even, not seriously, wish we had started trying for a child earlier. My infertility doesn't seem to be age related (yet). The husband and I have been together since we were teenagers, but we didn't rush into procreation, we started trying when we were both genuinely ready.
If we had started earlier I would have spent my twenties checking ovulation tests, abstaining from booze and saving for potential IVF. Instead my twenties were a time when I enjoyed living in London. I went out too late, I made friends who will be friends for life, I visited foreign countries, I clambered, in an ungainly manner, up the career ladder. And I had no idea that conception would prove so illusive.
Ignorance truly was bliss.
I don't regret that for a moment.
And I will do whatever I can to ensure that what comes next won't be a source of regret in the future.