I know, I know, I’m a total idiotic bag of hormones.

Will it ever stop raining? It’s making me grumpy as I can’t let the kids “bounce, bounce”, as G says, on the trampoline. Usually, I can let them loose in the garden to keep the inside tidy and get them to burn off some energy in the hope it helps Ducklips sleep through the night. (I’ll probably still be saying that when she’s 5!)

So instead, I’m hoovering up mess three times a day, we’re still watching annoying videos on YouTube of kids opening toys, and if I’ve got to balance any more tiny pieces of brightly coloured plastic on buckaroo, I may die. Maybe it’s the drugs, but my patience is short and, at times, non-existent.

I had my first scan to check everything was as it should be. I was feeling anxious beforehand, wondering if I’d be ready to go onto the next stage of treatment, and going to the clinic gets me nervous as well. We have experienced a lot of emotions there, and plenty is going on right now.

Thankfully I had the smallest one to keep me company, who was showboating as always. She is so confident, and everyone comments on how happy she is since they haven’t met her in the middle of the night! I loved my massage from L that morning, “Good luck, my baby-making machine”. Aww. That helped make me feel better.

The scan was to ensure that my ovaries were turned off without any follicles growing, which they were, and meant we could move on to the stimulation injections, which are now to produce lots of hairs and hopefully lots of eggs.

So far, the injecting has been going well. Not too many side effects apart from some hot flushes at night, and my mood is up and down. Ask L, and she’ll tell you I’m being erratic.

There was an occasion I’m now embarrassed to mention when I split my Starbucks, and there were tears. Not even a little sly one is rolling down the cheek, but a full-on uncontrollable flow of tears and ugly sobs with shoulder action and snot. I can laugh about it now, but I didn’t know what had come over me at the time.

I was looking forward to that drink and was now distraught at it, swilling all over the buggy and the floor. It didn’t end there, though, as I tried to find happiness with a slice of cheesecake, and a fly landed on top of it.

It pushed me over the edge. L’s WTF face was staring at me, burning a hole in my soul. I wouldn’t have blamed her for divorcing me right there and then. I know, I know, I’m a total idiotic bag of hormones.

Once I’d calmed myself down and returned to reality, L said, “I’ve probably got another nine months of this!” My response was a little less than friendly, but I am self-aware. I’m a bit up and down (well, a lot), and I’m trying my best not to kill her.

So now I will inject twice a day for at least the next week until I will be scanned again to check if the follicles are growing and how many there are. Grow follies, grow!