We had perfect weather and the only days of rain were while we were already wet kayaking on Ireland’s only fjord and our one day of ‘road tripping’ across the country. It was actually helpful because DH killed a million bugs on the rental car windshield!
Since this is an interfertility blog and all, I should mention that our trip was perfectly timed with ovulation – and we were able to have sex every day! The relaxing, fun sex you have when you’re first together. Not what we’ve come to call ‘utilitarian sex’ which is driven by my temperature chart and the calendar.
So I was hopeful (yes, yes, I know) – and even a bit more hopeful when Aunt Flo was late. I *even* allowed myself to think about how I would tell DH. I’ve mentioned this before, but I still dream about how I could surprise him with the good news. This daydream involved something Irish – and I even thought we could call the fetus “Fergal” after the little kid who was running around the ferry we took to the Aran Islands on our trip. The entire ferry ride his parents kept saying “Fergal, come sit down,” “Fergal, be nice to your sister,” and “Fergal, have some crisps.” The best part was that we sat right behind him on the return ferry!
But I digress…
When we got home last night from dinner with friends, five days late, there she was. In full force I might add. I *rarely* take Tylenol, or any pain medications, but I was doubled over in bed at about 4 a.m. and decided it was necessary. Sigh.
So, this week we go into Dr. Holistic for his final diagnosis – and I suspect we’ll be back to IVF before too long. The question is – how the heck to pay for it? That’s for another blog post.
I leave you with a few shots of Ireland.
St. Stephen’s Green
Our first pints of Guinness
Our beautiful room at the Delphi Mountain Resort
And, in case I ever decide to become a food blogger, a shot of our delicious dinner the last night in Dublin – monk fish, broccoli rabe, puree potatoes, local mushrooms