We went to visit my family at the weekend for my parents pearl wedding anniversary, which was really lovely. I got to catch up with my sister and her 3 kids too, which is always nice as I don't get to see them very often. A good thing about the weekend is that no-one announced any pregnancies, hurrah! It always seem inevitable, whenever there's a special family do to attend, some 'orrible woman goes and announces she's got a bun in the oven.

My parents, and J's, are the only people who know about our troubles, and my mum is the only person who I confide in about it all, particularly as she understands. It took her 2 years of trying before she finally conceived my older brother. She was about to undergo fertility investigations when she discovered she was pregnant, so no cause for the trouble was ever found. She tries to keep my spirits up by saying "It won't be long now" and "Just relax" and, my personal favourite, "It'll happen." These comments don't bother me most of the time, but sometimes I just want to shout: "Will it? How do you know? There is absolutely no guarantee!"

I know she is just trying to be supportive and keep me positive, but I sometimes get so frustrated with her. I think she has forgotten, after 37 years, just how painful it all is. It's easy, once you've had the children, to say "Well, it happened to me, it'll happen to you" but it just pisses me off so much. Before we found out about the PCOS, and we hadn't gotten pregnant after a year, I said to my mum "I know something's wrong. It should've happened by now" and mum was on hand with the aforementioned pearls of wisdom (see above). Then PCOS was diagnosed and she still didn't believe it! She'll see something on tv or in a magazine and ring me – at work – and tell me sperm can live in the body for several days prior to ovulation in the cervical mucus, and I have to say "That's great, but my cervical mucus is attacking the sperm and they don't survive the night. And if they do, there is no egg there anyway!"

Don't get me wrong, I love my mum very much and she has been great. But on Saturday, we were in a book shop and she took me over to the health section (I sooo knew what was coming!) and she pointed to a book called "Improve your fertility in 3 months" suggesting maybe I should get it. I just had to say out loud, in front of strangers, "I have a medical condition. I know why I can't get pregnant. That book is for normal women, not me." And I dragged her away from the section.

I feel really bad for having a whinge about my mum, I really do, because I see how desperate she is for it to happen for me, and I know it hurts her to see me in so much pain, but I really need her just to simply say sometimes "I know, it's shit isn't it?"

Apart from that, the weekend was great. Although my sister posed an awkward question to us over sunday lunch. She's offered us all her kids old baby stuff or they'll throw it out. She asked "So when are you two going to have kids, so you can take this stuff off our hands?"

We answered as honestly as we could: "We don't know."

Holy crap, I did it! Today, at precisely 4.18pm, I handed in my notice at work (I was going to wait until 4.30pm but I was getting so nervous I felt sick, so I just marched into the boss's office and did it). Well, he was absolutely stunned. Didn't know what to say – first time I have ever seen him speechless. No-one had a clue what I was planning.

A few people were genuinely gutted when they found out, which is nice. However, they reckon they will probably hire me in on a freelance basis asap as there is a lot of work due in to the studio, and another designer is off on maternity leave the month after I leave. So I get to charge them an extortionate day rate which is about twice as much as my salary was. Win win!

Of course, what this means is that things will be tight if we do, by some miracle of nature, become pregnant. No paid maternity leave. No job waiting for me after my leave is up. The universe has quite a sense of humour sometimes. For instance, take the events of last October. I was planning on leaving my job back then. But then we had to get our house re-wired after the cowboy who used to live here messed it up, and J got a nasty electric shock whilst in the shower. Bye bye £700. Ok, I thought, I'll put back my resignation for a couple of months to make up for that loss...

5 days later (5 measly days!) on my way to work, the engine on my lovely car imploded (broken can belt) thus completely buggering up the engine. A painful £2500 later, we had a new engine fitted.

Then I nearly broke my foot on an upturned plug and tried to chop my thumb off with a carving knife, both within days of the car incident, but I won't go into that.

So I would not be entirely surprised if we got our BFP this month. It sure would make life interesting!

Oh dear, I'm getting really nervous about tomorrow now! I am starting to get cold feet about jacking my job in. When we went to bed last night, I was in a bit of a state (the evenings earlier drama didn't help). Because my period came yesterday, I was in "I'm a failure" mode, which is a sorry state for an infertile lady to get herself into. You feel like the world's biggest let down because your body isn't doing what it should, and you feel like absolute crap. In this "failure" mode, every other aspect of your life is magnified as failing too.

Through the sea of snot and tears, I declared that I am a crap designer and that no-one will ever hire me on a freelance basis. The bills won't get paid, our house will be re-possessed and we will have to go and live with J's parents again (no, oh dear god, no!!) I woke up this morning with eyes like pee holes in snow – they were so swollen I could barely open them. I've been sat at work (barely able to see what I'm doing as my contact lenses are so cloudy from all the crying) and contemplating whether I am making the right decision. I know I am, as I absolutely loathe this company, but I can't help panicking that I won't bring in enough money. And how will I buy my ridiculously over-priced Clearblue fertility monitor sticks then? They're security tagged in Boots, so it's not like I can even try a spot of shoplifting should I get really desperate. (That is of course a joke, I am not a tea-leaf. Anymore. I won't go back to that place!)

I had another chat with J about it tonight, and he says go for it, so I will. I am extremely lucky to have a supportive husband and I am going to do my best not to let him down. I'm going to wait until the end of the day and then spring it on them, then run for the hills! I'm off on Friday so I won't have to face them until Monday. Wish me luck.

It appears that our first cycle of Clomid has failed. My period has started, sort of (it can take a day or two for it to kick in properly). Meanwhile it feels as if my ovaries are being squeezed by some sadistic baby-dream crusher!

I feel exceptionally cheesed off today. I had made the decision to hand in my notice at work at the end of the week (only if I wasn't pregnant which, it appears, I am not. Again!) The reason I am going to leave is because I find this workplace extremely stressful, which won't help with the potential baby-making in the long run. It's not really the actual work that pisses me off, it's the numpty's I work with. They are a load of brainless edjits who seem to have one goal throughout every working day – to get on my tits. And you know what? They do. The other designers are rubbish and don't care about the work – they've no attention to detail, which is paramount in graphic design, and instead swivel round on their chairs all day doing bugger all. And as for the Account Handlers, well, two words spring to mind: piss-up and brewery. (Technically piss-up is two words, but I've hyphenated it for the purpose of making a snappier statement.)

So, back to my point, I have decided to leave and go freelance instead, which should also give me more flexibility with future hospital appointments. I also plan to begin setting up my own company. But I was so so hoping to be pregnant this month. I've had my letter of resignation ready for days, but I was desperately hoping that I wouldn't need it. I tried to be really positive and thought "Well, if I'm not up the duff, then at least I get to leave this lunatic asylum." But then I came on, it all fell apart. Actually, that part wasn't too bad, it was when I got home later and had an argument with J that it all fell apart. Get ready...

At 6pm, on my way home, J rang to say he was popping to the pub for a quick pint after work, and would be home by 7pm. Fine, I said, I will have dinner ready at 7pm. And please just have the 1 pint, I asked, as we are trying to cut back on the pop, and we had a heavy session at the weekend because it was my birthday. He said, Fine. Fast forward to 7.45pm. J is still not home, his mobile phone is off, his mate said he left the pub ages ago, and I am stalking the house going out of my mind with worry. J rides a very expensive bicycle along a very quiet, secluded cycle path in the city. It worries me every day that someone will rob him, and he knows that. He, too, hates me cycling on it alone. So I am crying my eyes out, worried sick, when he just wheels his bike into the hallway like nothings up. Well, as soon as I saw he was safe, I wanted to throttle him with my bare hands.

Me: Where were you?!
J: I stayed for a 2nd pint. What's the problem?
Me: I was worried sick. And why on earth were you having a second pint?!
J: Cos I was fed up we're not pregnant this month.
Me: And I'm not fed up?! Why didn't you at least call to say you were staying for another pint?
J: My phone was dead.
Me: You could've used A's phone, like you did to ring me earlier to tell me you were going to the bloody pub in the first place!!
J: Oh.

Oh. A typical response from my beloved J. Sometimes I really feel like I could slap him silly. I know he's having a rough time too – we're in this mess together – but when he pulls stunts like this, it feels like he's letting me down. He does things like this every now and then. Beer is to J what doughnuts are to Homer Simpson. Once he gets the taste of one, that's it. A binge can potentially ensue. I felt very much like he didn't care about me tonight. Which I know is completely untrue, but I have PMT, and I'm allowed to be irrational. Aren't I?

So I have spent about 2 hours crying, and we are now friends again. But I have a big headache, exacerbated by my earlier binge on chocolate, and puffy eyes I can barely see the screen through. I think now I shall have a shower, and head to bed and put today behind me. Roll on Friday, and adios work!

I'm looking forward to a family gathering in 2 weeks time. Although I get increasingly nervous that someone will announce a pregnancy, because if I was going to announce one, I'd save it for a special family do if I could. I guess it's my brother and his wife I'm really worried about, as I know they were thinking of trying for a baby last year. I'm worried about it because, although I'd be happy for them, in the past I have had such overwhelming feelings of jealously that left me feeling resentful towards friends. I hate myself for it so much. If someone had said I would feel this way, even 5 years ago, I'd have said 'You've got the wrong girl.' Me?! The woman who used to hate being around kids?! And now here I am, gripped by a hideous fear that I will never be a mother. How bizarre life turns out!!

I think the worst thing about pregnancy announcements are the couples that are having their first child. There is something truly magical and exciting about starting a family. I'm sure having your second and third children etc. is exciting too, but it's that brand new journey that looks so wonderful. That moment when everything changes, and you get ready for this amazing little person to come into your world and turn it upside down. I keep thinking that, if we can't ever have our own child, there will be some amazing kid out there who needs a loving home, and we could provide that. I guess whatever happens, or doesn't, is just the way it's going to be. I know at some stage we have to give up. But I'm afraid I won't know when that will be. I don't want to spend the next 10 years putting myself through this. It's so hard.

I'd always imagined that I would find out I was pregnant by accident. I would have been married for a few years, life ticking over nicely. I'd have a great husband (check), a nice house (check), and a fabulous job (ugh, not yet!). One day, I would notice that I was a few days late. Remembering I had felt a little nauseous that morning, I would secretly take a pregnancy test, and it would be positive. I would emerge from the bathroom and declare 'Honey, I'm pregnant! What a marvelous surprise!'

Although, if I ever do get pregnant, it really would be a total surprise, because the way I feel at the moment, it's like it's never bloody going to happen for us!

Getting bored of waiting for AF to arrive now (that's 'Aunt Flo' for anybody out there who doesn't get the TTC* lingo – a lovely phrase coined by the americans for their period). (*FYI – TTC means 'Trying to Conceive) (FYI means… oh, forget it!)

I want this cycle to be over and just get on with the next one. Because my fertility monitor was behaving like such a pile'o'crap, I'm not even sure if I ovulated this month. On the bright side, I get to hand my notice in at work next week if I'm not pregnant and don't have to stick around for maternity pay.

I found out I have been rejected for 2 jobs today. For the first one, I went to the 2nd stage interview 5 weeks ago and, after ignoring my emails, the recruitment agency finally got back to me and said they offered the job to someone else weeks ago! Thanks for letting me know… bitch. I also went to a different interview last week, which, insultingly enough, I didn't even want because their work is rubbish. A different recruitment agency rang me to give me the interviewers 'feedback' which was, that although I interviewed well and had a nice portfolio, they felt I lacked confidence. Ha! I'm very confident in my work and abilities, thank you very much. I am also particularly confident that I can do better than that place. Onwards and upwards.

Over the past 2 years, since beginning our quest for a child, I have witnessed the arrival (not literally) of many babies. (Judging by the tile of my blog, it's clear that none of these babies belong to me). It's been a difficult time. From the announcement of the pregnancies (maybe I'll be pregnant by the time it's born!!) to the arrival of the babies themselves (maybe I'll be pregnant by the time it has it's 1st birthday!!) I have had to watch people around me get pregnant (again, not literally) seemingly at the drop of their knickers.

Well, I have developed what I consider to be a foolproof, 5-step programme to help women TTC through these dark and difficult times. The aim here is to divert the attention away from the fact that you desperately want a baby yourself. This programme is recommended for women who choose to keep their fertility problems quiet, because if the fertile cow in question, oops, I mean 'friend', knows you are TTC, the programme will not really work for you.

Listen up ladies, this is what you need to do:

Step 1 – The announcement: Your friend/sister/colleague, let's name her a generic 'Sarah', announces she is pregnant. Sarah beams at you, glowing with joy (or, in the case of one work colleague, cries her eyes out, telling you she wants an abortion). First of all, paste a smile on your face, no matter how fake. Hug her* and exclaim, "Wow, that's great news!" and wait for her response. (*Hugging pregnant women hasn't yet proven to 'catch' fertility, but more research is still needed.) She will be so busy babbling on about her joyous news that she won't even notice the corners of your mouth twitching with the strain of your forced smile. Remember to nod your head occasionally and she will think you are listening, when really you may be be plotting ways to avoid her for the next 9 months.

Getting rather cheesed off on my first cycle of Clomid. My fertility monitor is behaving very strangely, and I really don't know what is going to happen this cycle. My lady month, sans medication, usually goes like this:

Day 1-10: low fertility
Day 11-13: high fertility
Day 14-15 peak fertility
Day 16- whenever my cycle chooses to end itself: low fertility (again)

I am now on Day 16, and the monitor has displayed high fertility for 7 bloody days in a row! Where is my peak day? I feel completely lost this cycle, which is rubbish because I am planning on handing my notice in at work as soon as I find out I am not pregnant this month (don't want to miss out on any possible maternity pay if I do, by some freak chance, manage to get a bun in the oven). If my cycle drags on then so does my misery working at this crappy company.

However, on a more positive note, I have a job interview tomorrow. Didn't hear anything back either way on the interview a few weeks back, which isn't unusual in my industry, but it's still bloody rude.

At the end of the month I have decided that, after long deliberation (and a massive row with my arsehole of a boss) that I am going to hand in my notice. I am fortunate enough to be in a profession where I can freelance instead, which I intend to do, until I find a more suitable permanent position. It's quite a major decision as, should I fall pregnant before I find another job, I get no maternity pay!

However, if I stay in my current job, I may not fall pregnant at all, because I am just so stressed out all the time, day after day. Stress is a huge no-no when trying to conceive (apparently the tubes can spasm or something, so the nurse tells me) so it's important for me to get out of what is turning into the job from hell. I wanted to leave anyway, before the row, but this is what happened...

Because I have had quite a few appointments at the fertility clinic, I have taken time off to attend them. But I have taken the time as paid leave, having a half day here and there. My time, not theirs – I am using my annual holiday allowance. I had already made it clear, months ago, that I would be going to some 'doctors' appointments, and to expect my half day holiday requests.

So I get called into the boss's office last month and quizzed about why I am taking this time off. (I should probably mention that they are paranoid I am going to job interviews. In that case, they would be right to be paranoid, because I have been to a couple recently!) So I tell him, "It's none of you're business." End of story. Or so I thought.

I got so angry about it over the following 24 hours, which he then sensed, and confronted me, saying I had no right to be angry, and that he had every right to ask what he did, blah blah blah. To which I told him that he was way out of line and to stay out of my personal business. I told him he was already aware it was doctors appointments, and that he was invading my privacy. He wouldn't back down, I wouldn't back down, so he kicked me out of his office. When I went home that night, I packed up my desk because I really didn't think I was going back!

I did go back, and we resolved the issue, but this incident just reinforces why I hate it at this company. They are such a bunch of shallow freaks there, that I can't bear it any longer. So I'm quitting. They can stick it up their bum. I can't wait to tell them I'm leaving!

However, if I fall pregnant before the end of the month, then I have to stay for the maternity pay, but thats fine. I would be so ecstatic to be expecting that it would be more than worth it to stay on for another 9 months. Anyway, I wouldn't go back after the maternity leave was up – I'd freelance from home!

Last weekend we went to J's parents house for a family party, where we got to meet up with his sister, grandparents etc. His sister has a baby, and we find it difficult to be around them. It doesn't help that I don't like her very much anyway (even before she had a child!) and I can't bear to be in the same room as her.

Because only J's parents know what is happening to us, everyone else (horrible sister included) harasses us with the dreaded "So, when are you having children?" or "Tick tock, you're almost 29, times running out" questions. All I want to do is yell at them to back off, but I can't. We can't be cross at them, because they don't know about our troubles, and it's not like they're doing it to be hurtful. But saying "tick tock" really does not help!

J's dad is a lovely man, but he is quite emotional. I was helping him dry the dishes in the kitchen, just the two of us, and we were having a quiet chat about it all. Suddenly he gets all choked up and starts crying as he tries to say that he hopes it all works out for us. In a way, I'm glad I could see that his parents obviously do care, because I don't think they have done a very good job in providing J with the same level of support that my parents give us. I think that, because they have grandchildren, they are in their own little bubble and forget about us sometimes. But at the same time, I felt a little annoyed, because I am trying very hard to remain positive about it all, and seeing a grown man reduced to tears, feeling sorry for us, makes me feel they think it's a hopeless cause. It's not over yet, and I need our support network to stay strong for us.

J's grandad was telling us to make sure we have children because J is the only man to carry on the family name. "Make sure you have a son" he was saying. Son, daughter, I don't care. I just want us to have our family.

I've started taking the Clomid this month and so far so good – I've had no hideous side effects as suggested by my accompanying leaflet. Although I did have a bit of an over-emotional reaction to a situation the other day. I was expecting J back from work by 7pm on Wednesday, as we had plans to go out by 7.15. When he still hadn't shown up by 7.30 I was in a state. He wasn't answering his phone, and no one answered the phone at work. I was imagining all sorts – that he'd been knocked off his bike, or he'd been attacked on the cycle path and robbed. It turns out he'd been in a meeting at work for hours and he hadn't realised the time. Men!

I'm feeling ok about things at the moment, just going with the flow. I have my laparoscopy booked for early May, but hopefully I won't need it. It's weird trying to have a baby for so long. When we decided to start a family, we treated it as a big decision. It took us months to decide whether or not to do it, or to wait a few more years. But we went ahead and started trying. We prepared ourselves for becoming pregnant. But because nothing is happening, almost 2 years on, it feels like we're living in limbo. For most other people, when they decide to start trying, within a few months they are pregnant, and they are ready for it. But because we don't know when, or if, we are ever going to get pregnant, we feel like we will be completely unprepared for it when it happens. We have to try and get on with our life and in a way, pretend that none of it is happening, because if we think about it too much, it consumes our life.

Last night I met J after work for a drink which was lovely, and I really wanted to stay out for a few more but I can't, because of the Metformin. If I want to drink more than 4 units, I have to plan ahead and stop taking it for 3 days. Things like that can make it difficult to ignore, because it imposes on my life.