{"version":"1.0","provider_name":"Vicky Gooden","provider_url":"http:\/\/www.vickygooden.com","author_name":"vickygooden","author_url":"http:\/\/www.vickygooden.com\/index.php\/author\/vickygooden\/","title":"And so to the end of my sabbatical and not 100% achieving what I dreamed of... - Vicky Gooden","type":"rich","width":600,"height":338,"html":"<blockquote class=\"wp-embedded-content\" data-secret=\"OPchRWDagk\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.vickygooden.com\/index.php\/2017\/06\/04\/and-so-to-the-end-of-my-sabbatical\/\">And so to the end of my sabbatical and not 100% achieving what I dreamed of&#8230;<\/a><\/blockquote><iframe sandbox=\"allow-scripts\" security=\"restricted\" src=\"http:\/\/www.vickygooden.com\/index.php\/2017\/06\/04\/and-so-to-the-end-of-my-sabbatical\/embed\/#?secret=OPchRWDagk\" width=\"600\" height=\"338\" title=\"&#8220;And so to the end of my sabbatical and not 100% achieving what I dreamed of&#8230;&#8221; &#8212; Vicky Gooden\" data-secret=\"OPchRWDagk\" frameborder=\"0\" marginwidth=\"0\" marginheight=\"0\" scrolling=\"no\" class=\"wp-embedded-content\"><\/iframe><script>\n\/*! This file is auto-generated *\/\n!function(d,l){\"use strict\";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&\"undefined\"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!\/[^a-zA-Z0-9]\/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret=\"'+t.secret+'\"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret=\"'+t.secret+'\"]'),c=new RegExp(\"^https?:$\",\"i\"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display=\"none\";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute(\"style\"),\"height\"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):\"link\"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute(\"src\")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener(\"message\",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener(\"DOMContentLoaded\",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll(\"iframe.wp-embedded-content\"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute(\"data-secret\"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+=\"#?secret=\"+t,e.setAttribute(\"data-secret\",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:\"ready\",secret:t},\"*\")},!1)))}(window,document);\n\/\/# sourceURL=http:\/\/www.vickygooden.com\/wp-includes\/js\/wp-embed.min.js\n<\/script>\n","thumbnail_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.vickygooden.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/IMG_3635-2.jpg?fit=2447%2C837","thumbnail_width":2447,"thumbnail_height":837,"description":"Today is the last day before I go back to full time work after 3 months off. By the time I post this I&#8217;ll probably already be sat at my desk trying to figure out what my login is. Did I achieve what I ultimately dreamed of in this time off? No. See here about that. However, I have for the first time experienced the unparalleled joy of being pregnant, even for a very short time. Ecstasy I&#8217;d go as far to say. I still have the positive pregnancy tests in my knickers drawer. I can&#8217;t throw them out even though they&#8217;re faded and the lines have bled along the strip. I was pee testing at home on those first few knife edge days where the IVF Clinic would phone me after pregnancy blood tests every 48 hours, hesitant to confidently say I was pregnant as the first two tests saw my HCG levels starting out low (first one was 14.9 which more than tripled to 51 and then hit 116.9 at which point I got the call to say &#8216;Vicky you&#8217;re pregnant!&#8217;) By the time the ectopic was discovered as I lay on a hospital bed bleeding, my HCG [&hellip;]"}