Category: First Gen Asian-American

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Na Com Leav … wha?!

Okay, for those of you that aren’t aware … Sunday the 25th was the start of “National Comment Leaving Month” or NaComLeavMo … and yes, that’s what that little graphic with the party hat to the right of this post is for.

For those of you who haven’t read Mel’s post, NaComLeavMo is the month where we are encouraged to step out of our “lurker” mode and actually comment on other people’s blogs. And in return, leave a comment on the blog of someone that commented on yours. The idea is to open up discussion amongst all of us in IF / MC blogland and beyond.

Today being day three of this month, I’m finding it hard to just “stumble” onto a fellow blogger on Mel’s list without having to do a lot of back-reading before I feel I can … a-hem … “intelligently” respond. (Oh, who am I kidding … right?!) And then I stumbled on Rachel‘s latest blog post, who thought it might be a great idea to do a quick recap of ourselves and our story so that other’s might not have to be “clicking around” so much.

So Rachel … I’m taking your lead and doing the same thing. (By the way, my favorite ice cream flavor is Jamocha Almond Fudge from BR … or Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz from B & J!!)
Told you I was an Island Girl at Heart

Hmm … where to begin …

Three things are a big part of who I am in life. I’m Asian, I’m Catholic (although of questionable degree), and I’m Infertile. Yep … that’s right Infertile with a capital “I”. But let’s start off with the Asian bit first.

I’m a second-generation Filipino American; meaning my parents were born in the Philippines while my brother (aka “Dr. Bro”) and I were born here. While I know many other people can relate to having parents that were born in another country … being of Asian descent, it’s a little harder to “blend” in, if you catch my drift. I’m always going to look different than most people in a room. Or I’m always going to be lumped in or mistaken for another “nationality” (whether it be any pick of Asian countries or Native American or even Guatemalan … Not. Kidding. You.) But the biggest part of being Filipino American is that you are literally torn between a very traditional culture where authority is never questioned and the American culture where everything and anything can be challenged and questioned … and it’s encouraged. How does a strong-willed, stubborn female learn to live with these clashes in culture and belief? Well … peruse through my older entries and you might find a few.

As for the Catholic part of me … I don’t want you to think that I’m super-spiritual or anything. Because, in reality … I’m not. But, having been through 12 years of Catholic School … how can religion not play a part in my every day life? Even though it’s mostly about feeling guilty. You know … the “I’m not a Mom yet because I must have not prayed enough” or “I must have done something horribly wrong for God to punish me by not gracing me with child.” That kind of guilt. And no … I’m not (as) angry at God for where I am in life. Truth be told … I know that I’ve been “given” certain gifts from up above (my Hubby being the biggest gift of all); I just honestly have to have faith … not only in God, but in myself as to know when I am strong enough to do the right things in my life. And that’s the part of my Catholicism and spirituality that I can most relate to. Trust me … it’s taken me being 18 years of being out of high school to figure that one out.

I’m Infertile. Oh yeah … this is the main reason I started this blog. There had to be a way for this Catholic Filipino-American to let out all the repressed emotions I’ve let build up over the past ten years. Yep. That’s right. Ten. Long. Years. In brief, I married my high school/college sweetheart two years after graduating from college. We started TTC just over a year after that with (obviously) no success. After another year of “giving it more time,” I finally approached my OB-Gyn who put me on almost a year of Clomid. Yeah … the nurse in me should have questioned that … but the Filipino in me respected authority (see what I mean?). After that didn’t work, it was on to a laparotomy to clear out some nasty endometriosis followed by six months of evil pharmaceutical devil incarnate Lupron therapy. Then followed about 7 months of medicated cycles and the first episode of deep depression along with a 4 month “break” from treatment. And then the big guns … IVF. A one-time cycle that failed and brought about another episode of deep depression, followed closely by repression. Until one fateful day in November 2006 when my SIL (who just remarried 5 months prior and already has a middle-school age child from her first marriage) announced she was pregnant. As if that didn’t devastate me enough, Liam was born prematurely and with some “imperfections” which just made me feel like my feelings of jealousy and anger caused ill-will to this innocent child. And so … in the midst of my SIL’s pregnancy with Liam and his unfortunate passing 4 months later, I started this blog. And it has helped me deal with these emotions in ways that I didn’t think possible. And the fact that I’ve found such wonderful support out here in blogland … it just means the world to me. I just wish I would have found it sooner!

So those are the biggest things I can share with you in this one lengthy post. Hope you decide to stick around and read on. And then you can follow along with what happens in the next stage of my Mommyhood dream. I’m hoping to gather that source of faith and strength to fumble through the adoption process … as one failed IVF was enough for me emotionally and financially. Oh and you can see what other evil and emotionally ridden things I do as I finish up another six months of Lupron therapy for that bitch of a friend I call endometriosis. Oh … and did I mention my SIL is pregnant again … and due in early September?

Goodness … if you’ve stuck around reading this entry to the end … you might as well just add me to your Google Reader! 🙂

(Oh and hey … while you’re at it, check out my other blog!)

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Special, Like Ed

I’m finally catching up on some Go.ogle reading that I’ve been putting off since the previous week. Yeah … there’s a lot of them. In particular there have been a flurry of pre- and post- Mother’s Day posts. And that’s completely understandable, given the nature of our blogs and our blogging community. Most noteworthy were two posts that I felt compelled to write more about rather than just posting a comment on their blogs.

Ann at The Unlucky 20 Percent wrote about certain comments people have said to her on Mother’s Day; particularly after finding out that she’s not a “mother-to-be,” but was already a mother whose first child was in heaven. I give her lots of credit for correcting those people she has encountered. Infertility and the subsequent loss associated with it is never an easy thing to talk about face to face. But just because infertility may not be discussed during any type of social gathering, doesn’t mean that it should be forgotten or disregarded.

Yes, I know how easy it is for one to make “foot-in-mouth” statements … I’ll readily admit that I am usually the first in a group to do something like that and then quickly try to correct myself. But what I try to do after such statement is make light of it, or try and engage someone in conversation about what kind of stupid thing I might have said. No, it’s not easy to do that. But if it brings about discussion and I learn something new from that discussion, I figure that I’ve gained insight into something I might not have fully understood before.

So I wish that more people would do that in this world. I wish that when people do make some “off-handed” remark about how lucky Hubby & I don’t have kids or tell us that we can “always just adopt,” that they … first of all, realize that saying those things are not comforting words (because that’s the other aspect of this … not realizing when they’ve put their foot in their mouths). And second … be willing and patient to hear exactly why we don’t have kids.

Oh … and offering things such as to “loaning” Hubby & I their kids for the weekend or telling us stories about how their best friend’s sister’s best friend adopted and miraculously got pregnant afterwards? Those aren’t comforting either. And neither is telling us to stop stressing and “just relax.”

Just listening to us. Without feeling awkward about it. That’s what we (or more accurately, what I) want.

Now Shinejil over at Sluggish Butterfly wrote about wanting to be special. That it was in her competitive nature to want to be different than others and this is what she probably finds most frustrating in her IF journey. It’s a post I can definitely relate to in some levels of my life. I’m not especially “competitive,” however I’ve always felt a need to be different from others.

I’m sure it stems from the fact that I’m a second-generation Filipino American and therefore, automatically different than others. Growing up, I was the only Asian girl in my class up through junior high. Once I got into high school, that number increased to 5 out of a class of 200. With the exception of one of these gals, we bonded quickly out of necessity and were pretty close to each other. In fact, we are still in contact with each other to this day.

You’d have thought I would wanted to blend in with the rest of my classmates. Unfortunately, looking the way I did … not to mention dressing the way I did (I was “Class New-Waver, after all 😛 ) … it would never be easy for me to blend in. I was friendly enough with most social circles that I could jump from one to another seamlessly, but I’m sure it’s because I was just always accepted as the “Unusual Asian Chick.” While somedays being “different” and coming from a different cultural background was downright a struggle, I pretty much embraced my “uniqueness” and have carried that on with me through adulthood.

Except when it comes to my infertility. That’s when I want to be “normal.”

And when I mean normal, I mean that I don’t want to be that “One Couple out of Eight” or that “Unlucky 20 Percent” that is infertile. I would much rather be that couple that was able to get pregnant within one to three months of “trying.” I want to have the ability to carry, labor and deliver my own biological child. I want to be able to dress my nursery and “nest” like any other pregnant woman would do.

And although I’m not necessarily a “competitive” person in life … I am a person that has been brought up to believe that if you work hard at something that you truly want, you will succeed. And I have to honestly say that I have managed to obtain all my goals in life by working hard … except for bringing my own biological child into this world.

And that’s how I find myself, yet again, different than most. Special, Like Ed. Riding the “Short Bus.”

So I guess what I need to do now is embrace my inferility and welcome it into my “special” and “unique” life. But writing it and actually doing it is definitely easier said than done.

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Flippin' Blog!

Map of the Philippines

Alright … I’ve postponed this long enough. If it’s one thing that Filipinos are good at and known worldwide for is procrastinating. I mean really … why else would we have our own “time zone”? (Okay, so Filipino Time is not exactly a zone, per se. Rather it’s a … I don’t know … a philosophy? Lifestyle? Cultural trait?)

Anyway … a fellow blogger I met in Blogger Town (you know, the place next door to Fac.ebook and Mysp.ace?), Joanne just tagged me about a week ago and it was about gosh-darn time I get to it. And because she’s also “Flip“, I figured she might forgive me for following the typical Filipino Time protocol. So here goes …

1. Why did you start your blog?

Well hmmm … I’ve always just loved writing. It’s a way for me to express some creativity and allow me to vent. Back about five years ago, when I was deep in the heart of my IF journey, my Mom had made a simple comment that I should start writing like I did back in high school and college, using the letters I wrote to my cousin as an example. My cousin and I wrote letters much like the two characters in “Beaches” did. She was, in essence, my “living journal” at one of the most confusing and hormonal times in life.

Now, I’ve been somewhat of an inconsistent journler all my life; always starting one but then losing interest in it after awhile … which is why I didn’t start this blog until just over a year ago. I had finally gotten to the point where stuffing my feelings to “Save Face” just got to be way too much. I had to let it out somewhere. And because I wasn’t able to share this confusing and hormonal time of my life with anyone close to me … well, it only seemed natural to put it up on a blog to see if anyone out there could even begin to understand the kind of emotions I was going through.

2. How did you come up with your blog name?

Well … I suppose it’s much easier to send you here to read about my name. Much easier than having to cut & paste. And you get the added benefit of not having to read it again if you’ve already read it.

"Living Journal" Cousin, Dr. Brother & Me, circa mid-1970's

3. Do your friends and family know about your blog and what do they think?

Amazingly, yes. Not all of them read it, but they know about it. The one thing that I’ve found really great about having my family read it, is that they can finally be able to realize just how much of my life has been about my infertility and how hard IF’s emotional toll has been on every aspect of my life. Filipinos tend to avoid talking about difficult issues such as drugs or divorce or … gasp … infertility. This goes back to the whole “saving face” thingy and the extreme loneliness that becomes part of it. By putting my blog out there … well, I’m still able “talk” about my infertility while still being able to show up at family dinners or other social functions without feeling as if I’m “broken” or “weak” or just plain “out of control.”

As far as what they think … well some of my IRL (in real life) friends have posted comments to show their support and agree (or disagree … I love getting perspective from other people) with what I’ve written. As for my immediate family … My Mom, as I’ve mentioned in passing before does read it … albeit inconsistently, as she confessed to me. My MIL (whom I truly love and respect) has admitted to reading my blog, which again, is a good thing. She has, in fact, told me many times that she never truly understood how and/or why I felt the way I did until reading my blog. I also know that my (currently) pregnant-SIL reads my blog … and I’m sure that what I write may have hit many-a-nerve with her. It isn’t meant intentionally or maliciously to hurt anyone’s feelings … it is simply my thoughts, my feelings, my way to vent. I don’t think Dr. Brother or Dr. SIL read this blog, but I could be sorely mistaken. And I know that Hubby reads it. If anything, he’s the one that will reach out and hug me when he sees the sadness in my writing. Or laugh with me about some of the silliness I write.


Mmm ... Yum!

4. How do you write posts?

I guess it varies on my mood from post to post. Mostly, it’s just me writing about me in the first-person perspective. Other times, when I’m trying to be vague, I’ll take on a third-person narrative … but if I start writing like The Rock talks … someone should just virtually slap me. “Can you SEEEEEEE … what the EM is writing?!” 😛

5. Have you ever had a troll or had to delete unkind comments?

Thankfully no trolls. And thankfully no unkind comments. I do get some unsolicited comments with some sort of “sales angle” that WordPress sometimes misses … and those I will delete. Otherwise, I’ve found that any person that has commented on my blog has been extremely nice and empathetic. I’ve “met” some really cool internet buddies this way. And I hope to continue to do so. So for those that might just be lurking … please please, pretty please … I’d just LOVE to “meet” you!

6. Do you check your stats or care how many people read your blog. If you care how do you increase traffic?

Yeah, I admit it. I’m a sucker to see how much my blog gets viewed. I don’t know why. It’s not like this is some sort of “popularity contest.” Really, I just want to know whether or not some one finds some interest in what I’m writing. And I’m hoping that perhaps someone else might find comfort in knowing that they’re not alone in what they might be feeling.

I really don’t do anything to increase blog traffic. I hate the thought of placing ads on my blog. Because even if I do like my electronic “toys” and designer “duds,” I’m still a “respect mother earth” and “there’s gotta be a better way” liberal at heart who absolutely hates mass production and consumption.

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So that’s that. I might be a little “late” in responding to this meme, but if there’s yet another thing Filipinos are good at … it’s making sure that they follow through in any promises or obligations sent their way!

Now …. hmmm. Who do I tag? I think I’ll ask twoPINK! and kcmarie122 to be the next victims. But don’t feel like you absolutely have to do this just for me … ’cause i’d hate to think that I “guilt-tripped” you into doing this.

How very un-Filipino of me. 🙂 Continue reading “Flippin' Blog!”

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Love & Coffee (sans Cigarettes)

The other day, Hubby & I hung out at one of the local coffee houses that we frequent. We’re there so much that the baristas definitely know us by now. In fact, the minute we walked into this particular cafe, the barista asked to see the scarf I had been crocheting (well over two months ago, by the way … before Dad was in the hospital) for Hubby. Wow. I guess we’re that recognizable.

While placing our drink orders, this particular barista asked me how long Hubby & I had been married. She chuckled as I turned to Hubby and said, “How long has it been?” (Yeah … I actually had to stop and think about it.) She was suprised to find out that it would be twelve years this coming August, especially because we looked so “young!” (Ah … the “curse” of being Asian American … hated it in college, but loving it now!)

She then went on to share with me that she had been married for 12 years and just recently got divorced just over a year ago. While some days she gets sad that she spent so much time of her life with him, she knows that it was for the best. But the thing that gets her down is that she seems to think that maybe marriage wasn’t in the cards for her.

Of course I disagreed. Because if there’s one thing that I am, I’m a hopeless romantic. I believe that there is definitely someone out there for everyone … it’s just a matter of when it happens. And sometimes it happens later rather than sooner.

I shared with her that Hubby was my first date ever! Of course, it was strictly “as friends” that we went to Homecoming together during my Junior year in high school. And it wasn’t until after high school that we finally started dating officially. What I told this barista, though, was that I knew even back then during Homecoming, that I was supposed to be with Hubby. I was just too freaked out at sixteen to think that this was supposed to be the guy I was going to spend the rest of my life with. And I fought tooth and nail to keep us as “just friends.” But thank goodness I came to my senses and, well … we know what happened in the end.

I feel so lucky and blessed that I was able to find the love of my life at such an early age. I know that if anything (God forbid) should happen where I would find myself single again, I would be absolutely devastated. That, and since I never knew how to work the “singles scene,” I’m sure I’d find myself very very lonely. So for those out there that have struggled or are even still struggling to find the love of their lives, I can honestly empathize with you. And I sincerely mean that.

Because to want something SO badly and not have it within your reach … well I can certainly understand that.

This is the reason why some days I feel like infertility is the “cross” I’ve been given to bear. Here I’ve been fortunate to be given my soul mate at such an early age; someone to spend the rest of my life with. In exchange, the struggle I’ve been given is the difficulty to produce my own biological child.

It’s not much, but that reasoning is something that I use to help me get through each day … each cycle … each year that Hubby & I remain childless

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Childhood Dreams

Work has been incredibly grueling this past week, leaving me mentally drained each day. It’s not that I’ve been swamped with an extraordinarily large caseload. Actually, that’s more my team’s issue as they are currently covering my caseload right now. You see, the powers-that-be in my position have selected me to be part of a group of RN’s to establish a redesign for the current work flow. Uh … yeah. Like I said, grueling.

Not that I’m excited to be part of this group … it has certainly been an eye-opening experience, and the upper-level executives have thus far been very supportive of the ideas we’ve come up with … it just has left me very, very exhausted.

Today at work, a fellow RN Case Manager shared a video clip of Dr. Ran.dy Pa.usch on the Oprah show. Now apparently this clip (along with the original lecture he gave at Carnegie Mellon University) has been downloaded over a million times on you.tube. So, if you’ve already seen this clip or you’ve heard about Dr. Pausch’s “Last Lecture,” you’ll know exactly the emotions that this lecture evokes.

Let me set the scene. Ran.dy Pa.usch is a 47 year-old father of three and Professor of Computer Science at Carnegie Mellon University. He was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer which has since metastasized, which currently gives him no further course of treatment other than palliative care. He delivered his famous “Last Lecture” during an ongoing series of lectures where Professors at the University are given the opportunity to give a hypothetical last lecture in which to impart to their students. Obviously, this lecture, titled “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dream,” would be a little more realistic to him. So after watching this shortened version of this lecture on Oprah (the original is about 1+ hours long and visible on you.tube), it’s no wonder that all eleven of us in the room were just about in tears.

Watching this video had certainly got me pondering what my childhood dream was. The earliest memory I have about trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grow up is two-fold. One is of going to the library as early as 5-years old and picking out simple children’s books, particularly a series of books about a young girl deciding what she wanted to be when she grew up. One book was about becoming a teacher, while another was learning to be a “stewardess,” and yet another one about being … da da dadum … a nurse. (Hey, it was the late 70’s and these books were probably written in the late 60’s!) The other memory is of lining up all my stuffed animals (I was more of a plush toy kid than a doll kid) in front of our chalk board and pretending to “teach” them … all to the delight of my Grandmother (who, by the way is 97 this year) who was a primary school teacher in the Philippines.

Unfortunately, I never actually owned one ...
Unfortunately, I never actually owned one ...

But by the time I got to high school, I fancied myself wanting to go into journalism or writing of some kind. I kept journals back then and wrote constantly to my cousin in London, Ontario, whom I considered my “living diary” during that time period. I even had a book of “poems” (more like silly rants, now that I look back at it) that I thought I could turn into song lyrics of some sort. Because back then, I also fancied myself being part of a really cool alternative band. Never mind that I was only a mediocre piano player … I still wanted to be able to tour the world (probably playing my “ke.ytar” a-la Howard Jones).

Alas, those dreams faded once it came time to choose which college I wanted to go to after graduation. Because then it became a matter of “How am I going to make a living?” rather than “What do I wanna do to make my life worthwhile?” The reason it turned eventually to “making money” rather than “dreaming big” is due to the typical Asian-American way of thinking. And that’s having job security and stability.

Eventually I succumbed to pressure and chose a profession that many Filipinos choose … Nursing. That’s because it’s a career that can, not only yield a decent yearly income, but it could provide you with the ability to choose different paths within the profession (-ie- hospital setting vs. doctor’s office vs. university teaching). Looking back now, I think Nursing appealed to me mostly because of the diversity in settings and also the ability to flex my schedule when I eventually had kids.

So getting back to Ran.dy Pa.usch’s video. One of the key things he mentions is having parents that supported him with the dreams he wanted. They, in fact, were the key to allowing him to dream big and to be what he really wanted to be. And while my parents provided me with the desire to always keep learning and the discipline to work and study hard, I can’t say that I was encouraged to dream big … or to even dream “outside the box” of the typical Filipino/Asian American professions.

I’m not writing this to place any “blame” on my parents or to find an excuse for not pursue my “big dreams.” I know that my parents encouraged me to be smart, strong and independent. And they did so because their experience in starting all over in a new country taught them that security and stability in life was important.

I want to be clear here (because Mom, I know you’re reading this) … This “choosing stability over dreams” isn’t the reason for this post. Nope, really it’s going back to that video. And Randy’s parents. And his relationship with them. It’s those things that made it crystal clear to me what my childhood dream was … and that dream wasn’t necessarily to have a career that I was successful AND happy with. Rather, that dream was to grow up to be a warm, caring person who was sensitive to others’ needs … yet still be strong and independent-minded to nurture, not only herself, but others.

I think I managed to take care of the warm, caring person (at least I hope so) through my profession in Nursing. I also think I managed to remain strong and independent. The thing I’m missing is that nurturing part … particularly the nurturing as it pertains to children.

And that’s the dream that I’m still missing … to be that parent, that mother, who, not only nurtures and cares for her child, but also encourages her child to dream … and to dream big.

Okay, so that’s nothing all too revealing. Especially given what the basis of my blog is about. But watching this video … and particularly the real reason Ran.dy Pa.usch wrote this lecture, really really REALLY affected me. It was certainly something that once again pulled on my imaginary apron strings.

I encourage you all to watch the ten-minute video below and tell me what you think. What are were your childhood dreams? And are you living them now?

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If you’d like to read a follow up on this post, click here!