My baby girl goes for fertility treatment soon. It's getting to the stage where every little baba I see, I picture myself and daughter mugging the pusher. Not that I'd give her much of a chance to shove the thing, for I know I be a selfish grandparent. When the most important female in your life lives 500 miles away, it's hard. And when this little mite eventually comes along, the pull will be harder. So I have to make the most of what ever time we find. I can just picture that little face, a girl with golden red hair. Okay - the colour and fullness of mine - because it's my crowning glory and it would be our own special reminder of each other, our absent bond. Of course, they want a boy first, then the girl but I'm thinking that fertility treatment often results in multiple births, so mother nature dissing them this long just might make up for it!
My daughter, Kerri, is 29, and has polycystic ovaries. Her husband, James, had a testicle removed at a very young 26, through cancer. The irony is that they would make fabulous parents. Fun, laughter, security, love, and every other recipe in the raising-agent book. The pair of them have commited themselves to every bit of medical advice - which included giving up smoking - in preparation for the treatment.
Kek is the most genuine person I know. The first to help family or friends if she can - physically, emotionally and pecuniarily. I'm forever getting on to her for drinking and dialing. Lord knows how many charity sponsors and monthly donations come out of her wages! I know donkeys, African children, NSPCC and her beloved penguins all benefit! She has letters after her name, all the latest gadgets, cars, and a beautiful home, but makes no great deal of it. Still she shops in Matalan and Primark. Still she collects Tesco club card points and cosies under duvets in front of her telly in winter.
I rarely pray but I will, and cross fingers, toes and any other part of me that's willing (or now able ) that she and I will be pushing a pram singing Ali Bali Bee in the near future. I'll leave you with my favourite picture of her from her wedding album. Nae airs and graces when a hert beats true.