Why Is It So Hard For Others To Get

I hesitated to write this post on this blog because I try to keep it infertility-related, for the most part, but as I was writing a link started to emerge.

I didn't leave a comment on Melissa's fantastic first or second post about breastfeeding. I kept trying to because I wanted to support her and be in total agreement. But I would just well up whenever I tried to come up with a rational thought, so I chalked it up to pregnancy hormones and tried not to feel too guilty for not being more supportive of someone who never fails to lend her support.

And then I read about the Similac formula recall and posted about it on Facebook. And a "friend" posted about it as well with the comment that this is why she didn't used formula. I suggested to her that she could be more sensitive since breastfeeding wasn't an option for everyone and suggested she look at Melissa's posts. A virtual "feud" ensued. We have "de-friended" each other and it's no great loss, but I'm still rankled by the exchange.

I have never written, except in the briefest passing, about my breastfeeding experience. About how my failed induction caused my blood sugar to drop below 50 and require glucose. That those wonky sugars and the treatment for them combined with not eating for two days in which I never dilated past three cm after having my water manually broken meant that my son was born with low blood sugar and was given formula in an attempt to stabilize it before I was even out of recovery and able to hold him. How I tried and tried everything the lactation consultant suggested in the hospital, and during phone consultations and in follow-up appointments. How much I yearned to be able to feed my baby "the best way" despite the fact that he came home sucking down four ounces of formula at a time. How I "power-pumped" eight times a day and never got more than three ounces total for the entire day from both breasts. How the one time I actually got four ounces and cried because that was a whole bottle of breast milk for him at a time when he was taking in 24 ounces a day.

And why did I want so much to breastfeed- because it was "best." And damnit, I had waited so long (although recognizably not as long as many) for this baby, everything had to be the "best." I was going to be like all the other mothers, for a change. I was part of the "in crowd" now, I was no longer a childless infertile, I was a mama. And breastfeeding is what mamas do.

Nine weeks of crying every single time I pumped because I had to set my baby (who wanted to be held all the time) down and listen to him cry while I futilely produced dribbles that wouldn't even constitute an entire bottle. I finally stopped. I think my husband thought I was going crazy and maybe I was. Although I would periodically try to put him to the breast to no avail. And very doctor's appointment I took him too, I had to reply that he was formula fed. I had to wonder if he was sick because he wasn't getting the "best" with all its alleged immunity properties. The guilt lie around every corner.

And reading Melissa's gorgeously raw posts, I realize I didn't even have it that bad. It's not as if my child was starving or not thriving or in the NICU or premature or any of those other anxiety-producing, heart-wrenching situations that others have to grapple with. Melissa said it best: Any time we name something “best” and ignore all other possibilities, we are being inflammatory.

So, why can't others get it? Why does there have to be judgment rendered, explicit or implied? Why do they give a damn what someone else is feeding her baby? Why the need for moral superiority if one is a successful breastfeeder? Can't we just ask someone to be sensitive and her to say, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize, I will be more cognizant in the future?"

As I pondered these ideas and found myself unable to sleep, I found it so much like the interminable debates over language on message boards relating to trying to conceive. And how the poor infertiles keep attempting to ask for sensitive language that takes into account that some are struggling (e.g., the "finally" bombs) that is met with defensive and derisive replies. Why is it so hard for others to get that sometimes one unintentionally says something that is hurtful to another? Why is it so hard to own that? Maybe the person didn't realize. Ok, I can understand that. But learn from that experience. If even one person is hurt by the statement, why not just change it? Or at least not repeat it?

Why is it so hard for women to just stand along side each other in silent support and just not say anything?

Not the post I planned to write

About 10 days ago, I was working on a post about how ttcing #2 is not the same as ttcing #1 at all. Although disappointed by a negative outcome, it is always tempered by the fact that I already have one very special little boy and no longer have to wait to be called, "mama."

I didn't get quite done with that post before last weekend and can't finish it now. Because on Sunday, June 27, I got another bfp. We had been trying for only a few months (and never prevented since my period resumed in January 2009), so it was a shock that it actually worked. It's like how other people get pregnant- no tests, no drugs, no IUIs, no heartache- very surreal.

What IF

It's National Infertility Awareness Week. The title of which I find amusing. Infertiles are more than aware of their infertility. And those who don't struggle with infertility- I wonder are they aware of their fertility? How did they get to the point of taking it for granted? Is that the default position societally?

This thought came to the forefront for me yesterday at a baby shower at work. I dread these things, not because I am still in the mental place that it's painful to be at a baby shower; rather, because of the conversations focused on "planning" children. A woman who is not one of our regular coworkers was telling the mom-to-be how wonderful it is to have a baby and regaled us all with how when she and her husband decided to have a baby, she "got pregnant 20 minutes later." And dang if they didn't do it again the second time too- the very minute upon deciding.

Because it's a given that married women of a certain age do that- plan when and how many children to have. In my head, it's always if. If someone can get pregnant, if that baby is born, if someone can have another. If.

I have a magnet on my filing cabinet at work from the March of Dimes. It says, "Every mom deserves a healthy baby." And that's true, I wish all babies are born healthy and not premature. But the reason that I put the magnet up is not just to support healthy babies. Every time I look at, I think:

WHAT IF every woman who should be a mother got a heathy baby?

Family Defined

Natural Child: Any child who is not artificial.
Real Parent: Any parent who is not imaginary.
Your Own Child: Any child who is not someone else's child.
Adopted Child: A natural child, with a real parent, who is all my own.

--- Rita Laws, PhD

A Modern Fairy Tale

Last night, before prayers with my little man, I told him the following story that I have told him a few times in the past. He didn't know, but I did, how important it was this week to be reminded of the story.

As I have in the past, I pointed to the moon and stars on his wall and began.

You see the moon, yes sweetie, moon (he's a big fan of moons and points them out in all his books) and the stars? Those are very special. They are magical and came from a special fairy godmother. In a land that is easy to reach, but hard to touch, there lived many beautiful princes and princesses. They were very sad though because they all wanted something so very important-a baby- and tried and tried to get one. More than anything in the world, the princes and princesses wanted to have a baby and become mommies and daddies. Some of these princes and princesses tried for many, many years to have a baby and sometimes they would get to take one home and then they wouldn't be sad any longer. But sometimes, there would be no babies and the princes and princesses would try to be happy, but still feel sad inside.

In this kingdom lived a special princess who was also a fairy godmother. She wasn't your typical princess or fairy godmother. Although beautiful, she was fiery. Sometimes, she even made people angry at her. But she was smart and funny and her heart was so filled with love and she would help those sad princesses even though in her heart she was sad too.

Your mommy and daddy picked moons and stars to decorate your room because you were our dream come true and we wanted you to always know that your Daddy would give you the moon and Mommy would give you the stars. And one day when we were waiting for you to arrive, a package came in the mail from that fairy godmother- she had sent you these magical stars and moon to put on your wall to remind you of how special you are. And we all lived (reasonably) happily every after.

But that's not the end of the story- the fairy godmother waited and waited and waited for her baby. She watched so many princes and princesses become daddies and mommies and still no baby for her. Then, one day, with help from lots of doctors, she finally was given a baby and became a mommy to a most precocious little sprite. And the entire kingdom rejoiced!


This fairy godmotherhas her first FET in less than a week and although she isn't a big believer in prayer, my little man and I prayed for the happy ending and that her little one will be in her arms safely by the end of this year.

The Card

Every infertile's worst nightmare- the deluge of Christmas cards of precocious children or "perfect" families. But what to do when you're on the other side?

Last year, our Christmas card was essentially a birth announcement and I figured it wasn't as bad as some, but this year I have really been pondering "the card." The photo cards I picked are just of the little man (absolutely no need to plaster my ugly mug on something sent around the country) and our Christmas letter is pretty much all baby-focused (I didn't do much all else this year). My Christmas list contains a few real-life infertiles- two of whom have resolved their infertility this year- one by adopting and the other by becoming pregnant. But what to do about the others, send a generic, non-photo card? No letter and write a hand-written note?

And my thoughts in this area got me thinking even more. Not just about how glowing toddler news might affect my infertile friends still in the trenches. But what about the family from church whose seven-year-old nephew died last month? Or the elderly woman whose two-year-old great-grandson was just diagnosed with a brain tumor?

Infertility changed me. I can not just blithely bombard the world with my joy like the fertile world.

Do you see it?

(if anyone is even still reading here, that is)

Do you see it? That little "i" that must be tattooed on my forehead, the one that whispers "infertile." I think it's usually hidden. It's easy to hide behind the mommyspeak regarding bottles, diapers, daycare, feeding schedules, and how my ten-month-old (yes, time is flying) is now taking steps. But I know it's there. I can feel it burn ever so slightly when I see the vast numbers of other mothers at daycare sporting a very pregnant belly. It itched when I learned that I had been lapped again by a coworker and her sister (a most fertile family, apparently). And it started to flash when of the other mothers in our mom's group started talking about when we all were going for number two. That little infertile label raises its head and whispers in my ear, "They don't know, they don't get it, not everyone can just plan a baby- a first or a second. Why can't it be like kindergarten again where everyone gets firsts before seconds can be passed out? Why can't they just be happy with what they have?"

But did you know?- it's not just a "tattoo", it's also a magnet. I don't know if it's attracting me to them or them to me. But it seems that either infertiles are finding me or I am finding them. Given how open I now am about infertility in general and ours in particular (I talk about it with any random Target employee, grocery store clerk, people standing in lines, etc.), it seems that the infertile find me. I must have met half of the patients from the REs in the Twin Cities.

This magnetism came to the forefront last week when picking my son up from daycare. A mother of one of the other little boys (who is actually younger than mine) announced to the teachers (and me, I guess, since I was in the room) that she was unexpectedly 10 weeks pregnant. One of the teachers began the squealing that comes with such announcements- when are you due? how are you feeling? yack, yack. The other turned silently to me and asked if we were planning another. I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I don't feel that's something in my control." I answered her quizzical look by explaining, "It took us nearly two years to conceive Zachary and that was unlikely at best. I also had a difficult pregnancy and delivery, so a second child is not something I can really plan." Words just poured out of this woman so fast about how she has been trying for so long and just started seeing an RE and how she didn't know even one person who had any trouble.

I said to her that this must be a very difficult job for her. She brightened and replied that "No one else has recognized that. But sometimes it is very hard and others it is a blessing to get to cuddle some babies." We chatted about different treatments and I left her with the instruction to please feel free to ask me any questions that she had or if she just needed to tell someone.

The little "i" must have been glowing.

And I

Navigating the Land of IF

I am finally coming back out of the woodwork, just in time to join in on the discussion of the book written by our very own Stirrup Queen Mel:Navigating the Land of IF.

I must admit I read the book while holding my napping son. I am sure that colors my perspective of the book and I may have had a different take on things if I were still in the trenches, waiting for my baby. I was so excited when the book arrived in the mail from Amazon. One of our own, making good! I don't know what kind of royalties Melissa brings in on each book, but even if it is only pennies, I am so glad that mine could go her way for all that she has done for this community.

Now, on to the questions:

Did you read the whole book, or skip the parts that you feel don’t apply to your situation? For example, if you are not entertaining adoption or living child-free as options right now, did you skip those parts? If you read them, did you discover anything about those options that you hadn’t understood prior to reading the book?

I can proudly say I did read the whole thing. Given that we considered many different options (including adoption and being on the verge of ivf) and are potentially not done with our family-building, I wanted to learn it all. Plus, I am one of those type-As that has difficulty not reading from back to front. I had thorouhgly researched adoption, so can't say that those sections were much of a revelation, but the child-free section did give me a new perspective on that life. it's not a choice I think I was ever willing to make, so Melissa's description of how one gets to that point intrigued me and provided me more understanding.


What part of the Land of IF are you currently residing in, & do you think Melissa paints an accurate picture of the situation there?

I was fortunate enough to get a pass off the island and have my beautiful son, but infertility is still part of my identity. In fact, now that I have the benefit of being a mother, it's a lot easier to "come clean" about our infertility. In fact, I tell every one I get the chance to that this baby wasn't an easy "oops" and that I know just how lucky I am to be in this position. It still stings when people mention how much easier having another will be (as if that is a foregone conclusion). Although my ship has sailed from the land of IF, my heart remains with those still trapped there because I will never forget the pain and the hurt that each day brought when all I wanted was a baby and that likelihood got farther and farther away. I think about those with empty arms every night. And when I pray with my son each night, we mention those who long to be mommies and those children who long to have a family.


Navigating the Land of If covered many different aspects of infertility. What topic do you wish had been added or expanded on?

Although there were different aspects of the emotional part of the journey scattered throughout the book, I wish there had been one consolidated section to discuss the different cycle of feeling (sort of like the cycle of grief) and why it's ok to feel that way. Also, I wish there had been a more thorough discussion of being an infertile based upon a partner's diagnosis and specifically the stigma attached to male infertility.



If you are a reader of Melissa's blog, did you find the book to be a same or different style and why?

There were parts of the book that were classic Stirrup Queen- like the "note" she gives the reader to take with her on those days when a friend is needed. I do believe Melissa would hold each struggling IFer's hand if she only could. But there were other areas of the book that felt as if they were more the result of editing and didn't "sound" like Mel. And although I liked many of the "navigational tips," the flow of text being broken up was often distracting to me.


Kudos to Melissa for all of her hard work on this book and I can only hope she might end up on a book tour here in the Twin Cities, so I could congratulate her in person!


Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list here. You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: Moose by Stephanie Klein.

I couldn't have said it better

I just wanted to share this because of how powerful it is for both those with babies and those who are still waiting. I have my own thoughts on my first Mother's Day but haven't been able to articulate them well yet.

Thank you, Baby Story!

The other day while I held my baby as he napped (that is another post to come), I turned on the tv and couldn't find much on other than A Baby Story. I had watched the show a very few times at the very end of my pregnancy as a way to mentally prepare for birth. It's usually just drippy emotionalism and I was usually disappointed because it was typically someone who easily got pregnant and had a breezy pregnancy. But not this time.

The woman featured openly discussed their infertility (both male and female factor) and how she had gotten pregnant with IUI. It was not a circus and there was not a judgmental air about the discussion as has surrounded the octo-mom issues. It was just matter of fact. These were just normal, married people who wanted to have a baby like every body else. The episode ended with the new mother explaining how much this baby meant to her after all they had gone through.

A tear fell down my cheek as I looked down at my own little miracle. Why can't the public talk about infertility in just this way- open and factually? I give credit to the producers of A Baby Story for their portrayal of infertility.

Train Wreck

Yes, it's been a while. But I find the old infertile in me (I subscribe to the once an infertile, always an infertile theory) still popping up once and a while.* And this has been one of those weeks.

In part because the coworker who began trying a few months after we did and had her baby in September of 2007 is now pregnant with number 2, again after only a few months of trying. I will never understand why it comes so easily for some. And she has the uncanny ability to have her events coincide with mine. The day her baby was born I was going for my first IUI which resulted in me in tears because of the count results. And coworker told me of her pregnancy today as I get ready to go the endocrinologist tomorrow to very likely learn that I am pre-diabetic and possibly insulin resistant and may need to go on metformin. My gestational diabetes didn't just disappear. So, the question of a number 2 is fraught with a lot more problems on my part.

But the infertile in me came to the forefront even more so due to the story that people can't help but talk about- yes, the octuplets and their mother. I confess. I watched it. The Dateline interview, that is. A definite train wreck. It was the story of an infertile gone bad. I could sympathize with her desire to have children and even wanting to use the embryos she had left over and not selectively reducing. But how did she get to the point where she needed to do have these pregnancies in a serial fashion? Her uterus must be made of steel. Not even discussing the issues of finances and how fair this is to any of her children, but what possessed her not to be grateful for the one or even the two or three she had before she got into the level of a litter of children?

I feel so grateful for the one I have that if I never get another, it's ok. I look at my son each night and thank God that I was given this little miracle. Being on the "other side" now, I can say with certainty that infertility IS different when you already have a child, even if you want more. It is not the same and it can never be the same. When did Nadya Suleman lose that perspective?









*And at what point can one be considered secondarily infertile given that there is already a diagnosis? Not that I am trying for number 2 at all right now, but it's something I ponder- when? After six months (given that I am now over 35-sigh)? It's all a semantics game.

What a difference a year can make

This time last year I was in a holding pattern. We had been to adoption agencies and debating ivf. I spent the first quarter of 2008 losing weight in anticipation of beginning a cycle in early summer. I never could have imagined that the end of 2008 would be bring me the title of mother. And certainly not in the way it came about. I am simply overwhelmed that I now have a son. Most days, I am still thinking someone will wake me up from this dream realized.

For 2009, I pray that the babies born to those in the infertility community this year flourish, especially Robbie. And for those with continued longing, I want 2009 to be the year you bring your babies home.

Zachary's blog

can be found at Critter Tales.

We're home today

what a thrill it was to bring our little guy home. We have a new blog set up just for him and all of my baby issues will be there- url to come. This blog will remain for infertility issues.

Welcome Zachary William

Zachary William was born at 6:53 pm Central Standard Time, December 6, 2008, delivered by C section. He weighed 8 pounds 7.8 ounces, and is 21.5 inches long.

His name means "The Lord has remembered." And He has. We both feel truly blessed with our precious gift from God.

Mrs. Shoes is doing fairly well but still in a lot of pain. Perhaps you will get a new left handed post from her tomorrow if she feels well enough.

Frustrated

after 10 hours of pitocin, still no further dilation. they are going to run it until midnight and then turn it down until morning. I may get to eat a little something then.

Friday night

this is the first I have been able to type and it is left-handed. The day has been long and it is far from over. Went in at 7:30 and two nurses each tried twice to get in an iv. had to call in a specialist after four blown veins. my cervix was the same as yesterday. at 9:30 they put in cervadil, but had to pull it two hours later because I was having contractions of 6 mins in duration. Apparently, that is rare and not good for baby. With nothing else to try, they started the pitocin at 1:00 at a very low dose. it's 6 and still not in active labor. If I can get a little dilated, they will break my water. Tomorrow might be optimistic for baby. I am hungry.

Room at the Inn

There is a bed for us at the hospital so that is a promising start at least. I imagine it is going to be a long day given the state of my unfriendly cervix. I will try to update from there and DH will post a birth announcement when we finally get to that point.

Just call me Betsy Ross

because my vagina is feeling very patriotic these days- red, white and blue!

There was no change this morning despite hard contractions coming three to four minutes last night that prevented a second goo application. But this morning they were able to get in the other gel (white rather than blue) that goes directly on my cervix. Of course, this was after two cervical exams because the first nurse couldn't find any dilation at all despite a lot of digging around. This white gel caused no cramping or contractions and I had the easiest day of the week so far. I had a bit of bleeding in the afternoon so wondered if maybe it was some bloody show, but I think it was just irritation from the rather rough cervical gropings. And I was able to go back tonight for a second dose for the first time all week. This nurse had huge hands and I thought I was going to come off the table when she delved into my nether regions. But at least I had made some progress- about 75-80% effaced, 2 centimeters dilated and soft rather than firm. So my Bishop's score has gone from 4 to 6, need an 8.

Oh and the best part was the nurse tonight tells me I have my own supply of prostaglandins at home (wink, wink). It took me a minute, but then I realized to what she was alluding. And she explained the old wives' tale about that one is really true. Yes, after having my vagina assaulted five times today and having it bleed a bit and leak goo most of the day- I really want to have sex.

For any Grease 2 fans, I guess I should start humming, "Let's do it for our country, the red, white and the blue . . .

Stalled

The ol' cervix is not cooperating. I was able to get the gel this morning because I wasn't contracting. Unortunately, all of these contractions aren't leading to any progress- still only 1.5 cm dilated. This afternoon I have had the pretty constant contractions and if they don't settle down soon, I won't be able to get another gel treatment this evening. I don't mind the pain, I just wish it was causing something to happen.