So, yesterday was not so great. When we got to church (DH insisting on sitting in the second row), I looked over to thr front row across from us and saw a line of well-dressed people and a dressed-up baby. I madly flipped through the bulletin to confirm my suspicion. Yup. Baby baptism planned in the middle of service. I hissed at DH, "There is a baptism." He looked at me with his usual confused expression, not understanding the sheer torture of these events for me.
All I could think about was the baptismal gown (sewn by my great-grandfather's wife so many years ago) that is hanging in THAT room. You know the room, the one that is supposed to be a nursery, but now just sits empty, except for the rocking chair that belonged to DH's grandmother. The rocking chair I am supposed to be rocking my babies in.
I had such a hard time keeping it together. I could feel the tears slipping down and I was thanking God silently that I have let my hair grow so it could cover my face. The baptism was thankfully as short as most Protestant ones can be. But I keep thinking to myself that should be us. I kept my head down and read my bulletin through the process. But, of course, our pastor insisted on carrying that baby down the aisle row by row for every person to see. I could hear all of the whispers of "oh, how cute he is." I just did my best to avert my gaze.
I know I am PMSing (and hence dying for some chocolate) and on the verge of weepy. But just when I think I am in a place where I can fake it through things like this, I am blindsided by the hurt that I can't seem to keep under control.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
A New Ending, a New Beginning: Rewriting Your Reproductive Story; Unsung Lullabies, Chapter 11
I got a little behind in my chapter, so this weekend is a catch-up of two.
The authors start off this chapter with a series of very important questions:
The authors describe how for some, it is important to be prepared for the next step and for others a time to grieve is necessary. I am sort of the next step type. It is soothing to me to know a plan is in place.
An interesting aspect of re-writing your story is when the two halves of a couple have different feelings on how to proceed. I feel that right now DH and I are on the same page, but I often wonder about where our rewritten reproductive stories may verge.
The authors conclude this chapter with great advice:
The authors start off this chapter with a series of very important questions:
How do you figure out what's right for you? What if one day you are sure you want to adopt, yet the next day you think it would be better to be childfree? Or you find an egg donor, but your partner doesn't like your choice? What if you get scared and change your mind midstream?
The authors describe how for some, it is important to be prepared for the next step and for others a time to grieve is necessary. I am sort of the next step type. It is soothing to me to know a plan is in place.
An interesting aspect of re-writing your story is when the two halves of a couple have different feelings on how to proceed. I feel that right now DH and I are on the same page, but I often wonder about where our rewritten reproductive stories may verge.
The authors conclude this chapter with great advice:
[T]here are no right or wrong choices at this juncture in your reproductive story. The beauty of the reproductive story is that it can be written and rewritten as you go through your life. Your infertility trauma will never be completely erased-it will always be a part of you-but it will be only a part, a single chapter, in the story of your life.
Knowing When to Stop Trying; Unsung Lullabies, Chapter 10
This chapter makes a very good point- how do you reach the point when you know you're done? And what does "done" even look like?
The authors' first point is another I want to add to my list of mantras- "You Made a Choice To Start, You Make a Choice to Stop." For me, there is no "stopping" until we become parents- whether that is through ART or adoption or some miracle. But we also have a stopping point for treatment. We have committed to a shared risk agreement of three fresh cycles- and that's it. For me, that is giving ivf the best possible chance of statistically happening and then we need to move on.
The authors also look at the many spiritual aspects that arise as a result of this journey- feeling abandoned by God; feeling guilty; feeling as if one is playing God. I can relate to the feeling of being abandoned by God during this process and askign, "Why?" I don't feel that treatment equates with playing God, however. No ART treatment is 100%, there is still very much a divine hand in its success or failure.
Another question posed by the authors is whether someone is selfish for seeking treatment rather than adopting. Those niggling questions that an infertile asks herself"Am I wrong for wanting my own? There are lots of babies who need homes so why aren't you adopting?" The authors address this issue so well:
I want to be able to remind myself if the time comes that ivf is not successful that I need, as the authors suggest, to honor our decision to stop. That it is a loss and it is not easy, but it will be time to get off the treatment treadmill.
Read some other great thoughts on this chapter at fertility Challenged in Florida.
The authors' first point is another I want to add to my list of mantras- "You Made a Choice To Start, You Make a Choice to Stop." For me, there is no "stopping" until we become parents- whether that is through ART or adoption or some miracle. But we also have a stopping point for treatment. We have committed to a shared risk agreement of three fresh cycles- and that's it. For me, that is giving ivf the best possible chance of statistically happening and then we need to move on.
The authors also look at the many spiritual aspects that arise as a result of this journey- feeling abandoned by God; feeling guilty; feeling as if one is playing God. I can relate to the feeling of being abandoned by God during this process and askign, "Why?" I don't feel that treatment equates with playing God, however. No ART treatment is 100%, there is still very much a divine hand in its success or failure.
Another question posed by the authors is whether someone is selfish for seeking treatment rather than adopting. Those niggling questions that an infertile asks herself"Am I wrong for wanting my own? There are lots of babies who need homes so why aren't you adopting?" The authors address this issue so well:
If you want to keep on with treatment, by all means do. Adoption is a wonderful choice, but to adopt and deny yourself medical treatment out of guilt is not constructive for yourself or the baby you are adopting. If and when you choose to adopt, do so because you want to, not because you think you should.
I want to be able to remind myself if the time comes that ivf is not successful that I need, as the authors suggest, to honor our decision to stop. That it is a loss and it is not easy, but it will be time to get off the treatment treadmill.
Read some other great thoughts on this chapter at fertility Challenged in Florida.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Let the sun shine
In light of the lovely sunshine (although still cool temperature), I decided I needed to make the call. Since work has slowed oh so momentarily, I figured today is the daySo, I called the RE's office this morning.
And my favorite nurse- nurse J- called me back. I felt sort of overwhelmed by all the info. They are going to send me a big packet and I have to go in for bloods on cd 3 when I get my period. But the tentative plan is bcps starting with the 1st week of June and ivf stims starting first of July, retrieval around July 10-13 or so. I still need to get down about 2 pounds to be the right BMI and I want to lose about 20 more before starting the stims at the beginning of July.
And my favorite nurse- nurse J- called me back. I felt sort of overwhelmed by all the info. They are going to send me a big packet and I have to go in for bloods on cd 3 when I get my period. But the tentative plan is bcps starting with the 1st week of June and ivf stims starting first of July, retrieval around July 10-13 or so. I still need to get down about 2 pounds to be the right BMI and I want to lose about 20 more before starting the stims at the beginning of July.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Spring
I can't say that I have ever been all that impressed by spring as a season. I imagine that is a result of growing up in Southern California where spring and summer (and much of fall and winter, for that matter) are pretty much similar temperatures. But since moving to the Middle, I've had a much greater interest in spring and the end of winter. And this year, I am especially longing for it to be spring. It has been a long, cold, bitter winter. I am so weary of the snow and the icy wind that sneaks its way under one's coat. The white Easter and the snopw forecatsed for tomorrow despite the start of April next week just depresses me.
This spring feels particularly momentous for me. This winter has been a dormant period not just for the cold ground but also my infertility journey. Although we give it to the old college try every month, we haven't had a treatment cycle since October. I feel like I have just been in waiting and spinning my wheles until my work allows for a break in action and my weight reaches the necessary loss for ivf. I know that summer will bring ivf and I need to call the RE's office and get on the schedule, but something stops me (other than those few stubborn pounds). There seems an inexplicable hold on my pursuing this next step until the winter has passed.
This spring feels particularly momentous for me. This winter has been a dormant period not just for the cold ground but also my infertility journey. Although we give it to the old college try every month, we haven't had a treatment cycle since October. I feel like I have just been in waiting and spinning my wheles until my work allows for a break in action and my weight reaches the necessary loss for ivf. I know that summer will bring ivf and I need to call the RE's office and get on the schedule, but something stops me (other than those few stubborn pounds). There seems an inexplicable hold on my pursuing this next step until the winter has passed.
Team on the Road
Why You Should Donate to Team On the Road
The Stirrup Queen is walking to support the March of Dimes and all of their work on behalf of premature babies. Join her by lending some support- cheer on Team on the Road or make a donation. It doesn't have to be large. A few dollars can make a difference. If every one of the 1,200 IF blogs gave just $1, that would be $1,200. I challenge you to give up a latte or mocha for just one day and direct your $4 to support the March of Dimes and Team on the Road.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Not Willing to Let It Go And Something to Decide
This post is an explanation of what started my Easter weekend to put me in the self-pity mode.
I was lucky enough to spend most of Friday at the spa. For Christmas, DH had purchased me a package that included a facial, a massage, a pedicure, deep condition and blowout, and lunch. Every single one of the technicians (what is the proper term here?) asked me if I had children, but the one that got me was the conversation that took place during my pedicure.
I was sitting there zoning out with my feet in the bubbly water, when a woman sat down in the chair next to me. Apparently, she hadn't been in for a pedicure since before the birth of her eight-month-old. So, she and her pedicurist proceeded to chatter on incessantly about babies, specifically her baby. I guess, my dirty looks (since we were in the "quiet area") weren't evil enough. Picking up on their conversation (but obviously not my consternation) my pedicurist asked me if I had children. When I said no, she replied that I was smart. I can't even express how much I wanted to hit her. I just looked at her with the most disdainful expression I could muster and used my steely cross-examination voice to say, "It is not by choice." She just gasped out an awkward, "Oh."
I seem to have reached a point in this infertility journey that I am unwilling to say the "right" and easy thing and let people "off the hook" for their insensitive comments. I am not angry or "bitter" about it, just matter-of-fact. Infertility exists and I hate that no one ever talks about it or only discusses it in the shadows (usually in shame or fear). I resent the fertile assumption that one has control over the reproductive process. And I am no longer willing to breach the awkwardness and silence. Let 'em soak in their stupid comments.
And to add insult to injury, my regular stylist is pregnant. When I saw her in January, she told me about her first-ever IUI on her second month of Clomid. This was for child number 3, the first two involved no fertility issues. Of course, I figured it would work for her. And it has. And now she is showing. She is aware of our situation, but I just don't think I want to deal with her pregnant belly for my two-hour-plus appointments. So, I have to decide whether I am on the look out for a new stylist. And I have to decide fast because my roots are starting to show something awful.
I was lucky enough to spend most of Friday at the spa. For Christmas, DH had purchased me a package that included a facial, a massage, a pedicure, deep condition and blowout, and lunch. Every single one of the technicians (what is the proper term here?) asked me if I had children, but the one that got me was the conversation that took place during my pedicure.
I was sitting there zoning out with my feet in the bubbly water, when a woman sat down in the chair next to me. Apparently, she hadn't been in for a pedicure since before the birth of her eight-month-old. So, she and her pedicurist proceeded to chatter on incessantly about babies, specifically her baby. I guess, my dirty looks (since we were in the "quiet area") weren't evil enough. Picking up on their conversation (but obviously not my consternation) my pedicurist asked me if I had children. When I said no, she replied that I was smart. I can't even express how much I wanted to hit her. I just looked at her with the most disdainful expression I could muster and used my steely cross-examination voice to say, "It is not by choice." She just gasped out an awkward, "Oh."
I seem to have reached a point in this infertility journey that I am unwilling to say the "right" and easy thing and let people "off the hook" for their insensitive comments. I am not angry or "bitter" about it, just matter-of-fact. Infertility exists and I hate that no one ever talks about it or only discusses it in the shadows (usually in shame or fear). I resent the fertile assumption that one has control over the reproductive process. And I am no longer willing to breach the awkwardness and silence. Let 'em soak in their stupid comments.
And to add insult to injury, my regular stylist is pregnant. When I saw her in January, she told me about her first-ever IUI on her second month of Clomid. This was for child number 3, the first two involved no fertility issues. Of course, I figured it would work for her. And it has. And now she is showing. She is aware of our situation, but I just don't think I want to deal with her pregnant belly for my two-hour-plus appointments. So, I have to decide whether I am on the look out for a new stylist. And I have to decide fast because my roots are starting to show something awful.
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