CF Living after IF – Page 16 – Apron Strings for Emily

11 April 2009

The Inexplicable Feeling of Loss

I fully admit it. I’m addicted to watching certain tween shows. HSM? Loved it … have such a crush on Z.ac Ef.ron that just seem so …. wrong. (But then I think of D.emi and As.hton and go, “Hmmm ….”) Li.zzie McGu.ire (especially the movie)? Yep, like that too. So it was no surprise to Hubby when I told him I wanted to see Ha.nnah Mon.tana: The Movie. (Hey, what can I say? Being the music chick I was even at an early age, I always “wished” I could be a Rock Star!)

So today we headed off to the movie theatre and sat amongst many a grade school/middle school girls with their friends/parents and watched the movie. And even Hubby had to admit it …. that it was actually quite good. And “good” as in not a glorified Hollywood version of the TV show. That was most likely due to the fact that the movie was set primarily in Tennessee (now whether it was actually filmed there, I don’t know).

For those of you that don’t know the story behind Ha.nnah Mon.tana, the show is based on the life of Mi.ley Stewa.rt, a teenager (Mi.ley Cy.rus) from Crowley Corners, TN who moves with her father, Rob.by Ray (Bi.lly Ray Cy.rus) and older brother to Malibu, CA to follow her rising career in music. In order to to live a “normal” teenager’s life outside of the music business, Miley and her father develop her alter-ego, Ha.nnah Mon.tana, to be her Rock Star persona. Trying to keep a duel-life prompts hilarity, a-la-Disney Channel style.

The movie was definitely a change in pace from the TV series in that Mi.ley returns “home” to Tennessee for a father-ordered “Ha.nnah” rehab. And it is, in general, the story of a teenager trying to find her true self amongst the pressures of being pulled in fifty zillion directions. And yes … I’m totally a sucker for those kind of movies. (Hellooo … “Pretty In Pink” anyone? “Some Kind of Wonderful”?!) So if anyone loves those types of plots … I totally recommend it to you. Yes, it has its cheesy moment, but it’s at the very least … rental-worthy.

The point of this post really was not to do a film review of this movie. After all, even though I write about a variety of different topics here, this blog is still primarily about dealing with my inability to have children. It’s a blog about loss.

So what does “Ha.nnah Mon.tana” have to do about loss? Well first of all, let’s talk about the fact that we were surrounded by leagues of tweens and even more 6-9 year old girls. And let’s talk about the moms that they were with. As I looked around, I saw that many of the women taking their kids to see the movie were right around my age. Which would have probably made them anywhere between 22 to 30 years of age when they had their kids. And seeing their interactions with these girls … well, yeah … why shouldn’t it break my heart just a little? After all, this is what I would have done for my girl if I ever had one. I would have let them dress up in all their “Ha.nnah Mon.tana” clothes and let them “pretend” to be a Rock Star. I would have stood in line early at the theatre to try to get the best seats in the house (dead center of the theatre). I would have asked them to invite their best friend along. I would have done all that, if that was something that they really wanted. And if I ever had the daughter to do this for.

But alas, that isn’t the case. And therefore it’s Hubby and I that sat at the end of the row, discussing how that dad or Grandpa (along with Hubby, himself) was a wonderful man to endure sitting through a movie just for their daughter/granddaughter. And how we would totally do these things for our kids just because we loved them.

The second part that got to me were the various parts of the movie where Mi.ley talks about her mom (played in flashbacks in the TV show by Bro.oke Shi.elds). Su.san Stewa.rt apparently died three years before the series began. (Not in real life; just the show. Mi.ley Cy.rus’ mom is still alive.) And it’s those moments when she reflects as to whether or not her mom would be proud of her if she were still alive … those were the moments that had me unexpectedly bawling my eyes out.

At first I couldn’t understand why it was that I was dropping those crocodile-sized tears. To a Tweener Movie, nonetheless. But then I reflected on what happened to me yesterday at work when my manager (who was off that day) called me in regards to an email she wanted me to send. She apparently noticed something in my voice because she asked me what was wrong. That took me by surprise as I didn’t realize I sounded anything different than how I normally was. So when she asked, I told her about my Grandma Rose … and then I suddenly felt my eyes swelling up with tears. Totally unexpected because I thought my waterworks were otherwise under control; but apparently not. And that’s when she told me to go home; to take the time to mourn. To use my bereavement time that I was entitled for.

At first I resisted; saying that the funeral was in the Philippines. I mean, it’s not like I was going to actually be attending a funeral service/mass. Plus, I figured that as long as I kept myself busy I wouldn’t think about how sad I actually was. But apparently, that’s not what Grandma Rose wanted me to do. Because no sooner than I had told my manager I was going to stay until the end of the day … we received the news that the department would be closing early for the day. So I took that as a sign to use my bereavement time for this coming Monday.

In any case, this inexplicable feeling of loss … this sadness I have over the passing of Grandma Rose … is something I know I’m going to have a hard time getting over. Even now as I type this, I’m starting to well up in tears again. There are moments, like sitting at the local Borders and reading magazines, when I’m perfectly fine and happy. And then there are these moments when all I want to do is cry over the loss of my Grandma.

: In 1973, Grandma was awarded a plaque for 43 years of service with the Bureau of Public Schools (another pic “borrowed” from yet another cousin!)

The irony of this all is that this feeling of loss … well, it’s the same loss I felt (or rather, still feel) over the many months of negative pregnancy tests, the failed IVF attempt … and even the loss of my one frozen embryo that we “let go” one year after that IVF cycle. It’s this sadness that’s so difficult to explain … to write down into words. Whether it’s the loss of the ability to create or sustain life, or the loss of a well-lived life … it’s still the loss of life.

And as evidenced by today’s reaction to seeing mom’s around the same age as I am taking their kids to the movies … I still have those days (five years after IVF) where that feeling of loss surrounding my infertility are still very potent and strong. But there are also those days where I can take it in stride.

The same thing, I know, will happen with my feelings over the loss of my Grandma. There will be those days where all I think are the happy moments I had with her and how incredibly full her life was. But there will also be those days … like today … where all I can feel is that inexplicable feeling of loss.

And this … this is yet another lesson I’ve learned from my experienced with infertility. And yet another lesson that my Grandma (who remained a schoolteacher up until her 80’s ) has taught me in life.

Thank you for that one last lesson, Grandma Rose.

22 March 2009

Yummy Yummy Dim Summy

Yay! Today Hubby and I actually made it to Chinatown for some of their delish dim sum. Perfect for a sunny Sunday mid-morning meal.

Sign on Shop Door in Chinatown ... *LOVE IT!*

Dim sum, in some variation of the Chinese language (not exactly which Chinese dialect it comes from …), literally translates to “Touch of the heart.” I totally love that term, as I’ve always associated going to dim sum with family on the weekends. Sometimes it would be to celebrate a special event like birthdays.* Other times it was just to gather together while visiting family & friends in another city (like Toronto) or while having those same family & friends visit our neck of the woods. Many times, for Hubby & I, it would simply just be a “craving” we’d have. In any case, going for dim sum brings back memories of happy times and of family traditions.

So going for dim sum today … by ourselves … was special. Especially after putting it off for months since moving to Chicago. And it’s because today marks the beginning of Hubby & I beginning of our new “family tradition.”

And that touches my heart …

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* Here’s another Asian tradition for y’all. It’s customary for the birthday celebrant to have noodles on their actual birthday. It symbolizes long life and good health. Hence, if you’re ever at a Filipino birthday party … you will always always ALWAYS see pancit as one of the main dishes on the buffet table!

17 March 2009

Two Dolla' No Holla'

8bt “Two Dollars! I want my two dollars!”

I love that movie. “Better Off Dead” is one of those classic John Cusa.ck films from the ‘80’s that remind me of many-a-slumber parties. (You know, back when the other girls were fixing their hair and putting on make-up while I sat in my sleeping bag clearly just watching rental video after rental video …) I loved the Asian guys that pretended to be that sportscaster from Wide World O’Sports (hey, it’s St. Paddy’s Day … gotta get my O’ on. 🙂 ). And I love how Lane’s mom tried to cook her “Fraunch” dinner for the cute little exchange student that Lane should have noticed much sooner. Oh, and I loved the fact that they used a little Howa.rd Jo.nes on their soundtrack as well.

In any case, my mind sometimes (oh, who am I kidding … always) works in strange “tangential thinking” ways. I started off by thinking, “Two Years, Wow!” and obviously ended up thinking of a newspaper boy on a bike trying to collect his money.

G*d … does anyone else remember the days of neighborhood kids being the newspaper deliverer and collector of payments?! Now it’s always an adult that pulls up in a car … chucks the paper out their car window where one hopes it lands on the doorstep … and then it’s the newspaper that actually hounds you by phone for their twenty dollars or more.

Oh geez … see what I mean? Tangential thinking.

See the whole point of this post was to reflect how it’s been two years today since I started this blog. And what started out as wanting to express something in a journal entry somehow ended up here in the blogiverse.

2yr I remember clearly sitting in a café in A2 while Hubby and his BIL (my SIL’s Hubby of less than a year at the time) went off to do their comic/gaming thing. I was still struggling with the news of my SIL’s pregnancy and found myself slowly losing grip on my sanity. I knew, after a few months of counseling, that I had to find a way to deal with all these repressed emotions. Except besides this counselor and my husband, I didn’t know anyone else I could talk to about these feelings of anger and jealousy … and the subsequent guilt that always seemed to follow those emotions.

I felt that somehow no one else could understand what I was going through. I believed that everyone I had previously talked to about these things thought I was nuts to be “obsessing” about how unfair it was that I couldn’t produce a child. And I remember thinking how it seemed as if everyone was moving forward in their lives; starting their families, achieving new milestones, etc … all while Hubby & I remained left behind, unable to move forward.

It didn’t help that March was an anniversary month for Hubby and me. It would be the month that so many years ago, we received the news of our one and only failed IVF attempt. And for the life of me, today I can’t even recall the number of years it’s been since then. (What does that say about where I’m at today?!) But two years ago, those emotions … that feeling of lost was still as deep and painful as it was when we first received that devastating news.

In a single sentence … two years ago today, I was a wreck. And writing about how I felt seemed to be the only way to articulate such complicated emotions. And so hence, Apron Strings for Emily was born.

So where am I at today? Well … writing about my journey has certainly had some impact on my life. Both good and bad … and sometimes just downright ugly.

gobaug THE UGLY: My relationship, though better since moving, is still a bit strained with my SIL. The distance has definitely proved to be a good thing though. But this, of course, is at the sacrifice of not being able to see my nephew and my 6 month old niece as often as I’d like. Despite all this, my instincts (which tend to be spot on quite often) tell me that all this heartbreak will eventually pass in time. Perhaps one day our lives will once again be back “in sync” with one another like it was so many eons ago. And perhaps it won’t. But either way, only time will help mend all the broken layers of skin that this deep deep wound (as in “Stage IV Decubitus Ulcer”) has caused.

In any case, we’ll be seeing them next month for sure though … as they make the trip to visit us in our new digs. And I seriously can’t wait!!

THE BAD: Uhm … the obvious one is that Hubby and I are still without kids of our own. This also means that I haven’t been able to provide grandchildren to our parents, nieces or nephews to our siblings, or cousins to our nephew and niece. It still eats at me … at least once a month, during those incredible waves of emotions I get (Thank you, wacky hormones!) …but at least it isn’t every day like it was for years and years (and years and years).

THE GOOD: I’ve found out that, contrary to my psychotic (as opposed to psychic) beliefs, I am not necessarily alone in this infertility journey. I’ve found the incredibly wonderful and much needed support I’ve been looking for … thanks to all of you readers and commenters.

Also, I’ve finally decided (just recently within the past 6 months) that my life no longer has to revolve around my inability to have children of my own and have decided to focus on other parts of my life. This means I can finally move onto deciding whether adoption should be our next step. OR if accepting child-free living is the path to take.

goal But the best part of this point in my life is this: After years and years of holding all my anger and sadness inside, I’ve finally found my voice … and the medium in which to express this voice. For someone who has been used to (and quite frankly brought up to) stifling any bad feelings aside, well that’s … Just. Simply. Incredible.

And just like a yearly “work performance” eval … not only do I have to summarize all that has happened in the past year … I should also be thinking towards the coming year. SO … what exactly are my goals for the next year?

Work on above relationship with SIL. I’m still thinking time and distance for now is a good thing. Perhaps my thoughts will change over the course of the year.
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Continue to more forward. I need to remember to take steps by putting one foot in front of the other, and make an effort not to take any steps back. I need to build a momentum to keep me moving in a positive direction … whatever direction that might be. (Adoption? Child-free living? Focus on career and ultimate dream of moving out to the west coast?) But I do need to remember to keep moving, otherwise I could find myself stuck in the present (or the past) and in another “rut.”
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Leave the past in the past. This specifically means that I need to focus on not looking back at the negative. And if I do look back, it’s only to realize how much stronger I am because of what I’ve been through.
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In that same sense, I need to not concentrate on any negative thoughts. Focusing on any negativity is going to get me into those “What if?” situations that will also keep me in that same “rut.”
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Continue to blog. This … this is my (free) therapy. It’s one of the few ways I can openly and honestly talk about how I’m feeling. And it’s a way for me to work through these complicated emotions of anger and loss. Otherwise, I’d be back to where I started. And as I look back on my very first post and realize how much I talked almost all in “riddles” and metaphors … and how I couldn’t even write the word “Infertility” in that first post … It’s then that I realize just how far I’ve come.

voice And finally, before I wrap up this extremely long post, I want to thank all of you for allowing me to work (and continue to work) through all of my concerns. And thank you for faithfully reading all about them.

Because, really? What’s the point of finding my voice if I didn’t have you … my readers, my friends and my family … to listen to (or in this case, read about) it?

Oh, and because today is St. Patty’s Day … I also wish all of you the Luck O’ The Irish!!

luckee

06 March 2009

The Elusive "Gold Crown"

A couple nights ago I had some visitors to my new place … specifically three of my younger cousins, one who is in the area for her college spring break. I absolutely love these girls; they are the youngest cousins on my Dad’s side and I can clearly remember them as babies (well, at least two of them anyway). Now they’re all “grown up” and in college.

In any case, the reason they wanted to come over was to watch some DVD’s of “The O.C.” on our new HD TV. Except we never did get around to doing that. Instead, we hooked up the Wii and played some Roc.kband and Raym.an Raving Rabb.ids. Way too much fun … except I have a feeling that our neighbors below weren’t too thrilled. Especially since playing Wii and the “photo shoot” (read: digital cam on timer at 10 shots per incident) lasted well into the night.

But oh … was it ever fun. And here are some pictures to prove it. Personally, I think we’re all set for the cover of Rol.ling Sto.ne! LOL!

[rockyou id=133909794&w=450&h=338]

Moving on …

Have I mentioned how much I liked working in the big city? I love not having to drive to work. I love not having to park in the same parking lot in the same general spot every single day. I love that there are multiple ways to get to my office building. So that on a cold crappy day, I can walk inside another office building and walk through the indoor pedestrian walkway. Or on a beautiful warm end-of-winter day I can walk down the busy avenue and enter directly into my building.

And let’s talk about that busy avenue. There are definitely more options for shopping and eating along the day. No more of that “get in the car and drive” to get out of the office just for lunch or to run to the bank. Nope, I can now just walk out of my office building and down the street. That doesn’t even count all the different cafes and restaurants in the pedestrian walkway inside; where I can run down in between meetings for a quick bite to eat. Believe me, having designer coffee available in the morning comes in handy after those late nights of Rockband on the Wii.

Anyway … there happens to be a Hallm.ark store in the walkway. I love going in there because … well, Hallm.ark stores are always such fun to look around in. (And besides, being a “Gold Crown” member has it’s little bonus coupon perks … !) It reminds me of my grade school days when Hallm.ark was the place to find cool stickers for your sticker book or cute stuffed animals to add to your collection. And in some rare instances, the young Asian girl in me would be delighted to find Sanr.io items at some of the stores (back when Hel.lo Kitty was just a blip on everyone else’s radar).

Except now, I find myself at Hallm.ark looking for a variety of different cards. Or other cute items to give as gifts. Personally, I love the whole Ho.ops & Yoy.o collection. That darn pink kitty and green bunny are too frickin’ adorable. (Must check out my cute totally new wave song and “music video” I created on their site! Tee-hee … !) And their selection of cards for any and every occasion makes picking out just one card nearly impossible. Especially when they have cool ones with music and sound effects now.

630006_m And their gift collections are just so chotski-ish … way too fun to look at, and on various occasions, buy as well. Like the whole series of clay jars that say anything from “Retirement Fund” to “Ashes of Former Employees” on them. Or all the Prec.ious Moments figurines with all the cute little sayings on them like “A tender touch makes love bloom.” I don’t mean to belittle them, because really … I would buy these gifts for the appropriate occasion. And I would certainly appreciate any of them if I were ever to receive them as gifts.

Anyway, the point of my rambling about Hallm.ark and their gifts is because I realized something the other day. I was in the store during my lunch hour just passing time after spending pretty much the entire morning in meetings upon meetings. It got to the point that by the time I got back to my desk my desk phone was lit up and blinking like a fire truck, my work-issued blackberry was vibrating non-stop, and my personal cell phone was personally notifying me about the “Devil Inside”. Yeah … it was a nutso day. And at that moment, I just had to walk away.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m truly enjoying my new job. And I’m clearly up to the challenge that face me in my new position. But as I’m still relatively “new” to the corporation, I find myself sometimes frustrated that I can’t pick up on processes as quickly as I used to in my previous job. I know that it will come in time. And believe me, I know that I should be proud of all I accomplished even in this two month period. I’d even go as far as to say that I believe I’ve made enough progress in my position that I’ve earned the trust of my staff and the respect of my other peers.

Yeah. I know … what a difference 8 months and a change in jobs and scenery makes. Amazing what it does for my self-confidence and self-esteem.

There I’ve gone again … I’ve once again digressed.

So as I was down in the pedestrian walkway, I strolled into the Hallm.ark store. I was tempted to buy a cute Ho.ops & Yoy.o plush, but I resisted. And then I wandered to the back of the store where many a picture frame and plaques were displayed.

I’m not sure if it was the effects of seeing the ceramic handprint in my boss’ office, but for some reason my eyes gravitated to all the “Mom” chotskies out there. The little paperweights or mirrored plaques with “Ode to Mom” poems. The angel figurines that talk about how ”Moms are a Gift from Heaven.” The picture frames or coffee mugs the proclaim how “Moms RULE!” The keychains or notebooks that proudly state, “Motherhood: The Hardest Job You’ll Ever Love.”

It’s that last statement about motherhood that had me a little hot under the collar. Not that I disagree with that statement. Nor do I discount how incredibly hard being a mother is. Because I am absolutely positively one hundred percent sure that particular statement is correct.

But the thing is … I’ve just never experienced being a mother. Nor do I know that I ever will experience motherhood. And while that truth does hurt … does make me incredibly sad … that last declaration evokes another unpleasant emotion in me. It creates this feeling of triviality in what I do with my job; my career. It’s as if what I do for a living will never ever top that of being a mother.

And what does that say for someone like me who has always wanted to be a Mom? Who has always held the idea that I could be a mother and a career woman? Who has been given these incredible job opportunities in her career but has not been given the opportunity to be a mother?

It’s thoughts like that … and all those tiny little observations that I notice on any given day … those are the things that also hit me square in the chest. They’re the things that knock me for a loop. The things that bring my self-confidence and self-esteem back down a notch.

I hope the receivers of such gifts; those mothers of children (or those other family members) realize what a hard job motherhood really is … I hope these moms truly appreciate the thought and the sentiment behind those gifts.

And I hope those mothers realize exactly what a gift motherhood is.

Because outside their world are those women who may never be on the receiving end of such gifts.

03 March 2009

Handprint On My Heart

I’ve been spending a lot of time in my manager’s office. Not surprising, considering I spend a lot of my time in shared meetings with her over the phone with various vendors. And because my manager’s the one with a door to her office …

Anyway, I truly respect and like my manager. I’ve learned in my past experiences that it’s good to have a leader that fits in with your personality. In other words, we don’t want to be so much alike that we can’t see or think outside of our own respective boxes. But you also don’t want to be so different in personalities that we’d clash over anything and everything.

29180c2198a7b813ae2da6ecb62aa19b Lucky for me; I think I might have struck a nice balance with my current manager. Of course I thought the same thing with my last manager, and we all know how that turned out. But in my defense, when I was a supervisor working directly under my ex-manager … we did have a little more of a rapport with each other. It’s only after I stepped down as supervisor to become a worker bee (all for the sake of “reducing stress” as I headed into the wonderful world of IVF, BTW …) that the issues came about. And even then, it was years in the making (including major changes in the overall department and/or personal issues for the both of us) before things took a turn for the worse.

New manager (NM) pushes me in directions I had never gone before and she’s tested my strength as a leader for my team. But in a totally good way. She’s the go-getter; the snap decision maker. I’m also a go-getter; but tend to be more deliberative and analytical. I slow her down enough to think things through; she speeds me up to get me where I need to be. I just hope that this relationship continues to grow and flourish through the years.

heart_handprint_craft_impression But this wasn’t the main reason I’m writing today. (Although now is a good time, if ever.) Today as I sat in yet another telephone meeting, I sat there and played with some of the toys she leaves on her desk for us to fiddle around with whenever we talk.*

Next to the mini Zen garden (that her husband gave her to help “relax” … LOL!) is a ceramic piece that her daughter made for her when she was 5 years old. It’s this tiny glazed hand that has little hearts and butterflies on its fingers and her name written on the palm. And every time I sit in that office, I can’t help but put my hand over the little glazed hand. Because: 1) It is. Simply. Adorable. And 2) the texture of the glaze just has this soothing quality to it.

I’m not sure what it was about today. But the thought that I might never be able to hold the small hand of my own child hit me square in the chest. And just like that, I was back to longing for my imaginary child.

Which is crazy, in my mind. Because I know that right now just isn’t the right timing to “go forth and procreate.” Or in my case, move forward with adoption. H*ll, I’m not even sure if I want to pursue the adoption path. Because, quite frankly I’ve been so much more comfortable with the idea of child-free living lately.

mc_3lg And yes, I’m sure it’s because of the major changes I’ve made over the past six months. (Has it been that long since the last lowest** point in my IF journey?!) I simply don’t have the time. And I simply don’t have the energy to want to feel as miserable as I did back then. Nor do I have the energy to struggle to break the surface if I ever get that low again.

I’m happy where I’m at right now in my life (although, having Hubby here would make it tons better). I’m happy with my “second chance” to make a “life” out of my life.

It might not be the kind of “life” I dreamed of (creating a baby’s life, being a mother, for example) … but still, it’s my life. The life I chose to move forward with; the one that I have some control over.

So why do I still have these longings? Why does my dream of being a parent still cling to me?

This feeling … this longing, it evokes the same emotions I have whenever I hear this one song from the musical, Wicked:

It well may be that we will never meet again
In this lifetime, so let me say before we part
So much of me is made of what I learned from you
You’ll be with me like a handprint on my heart

— “For Good”

And although the song is referring to the tragic ending of a friendship, I can’t help but substitute the “friend” for the child I may never have. And what I’ve learned from the heartache of my infertility is so much of who I am as a person today.

But despite all that I’ve learned and all that I’ve become … there is this part of me — will always be this part of me — that will have the handprint of my child, whether imaginary or real, on my heart.

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* Studies have shown that people tend to be more creative and think clearer when keeping your hands busy. Thus, having simple toys such as koosh balls or even rubber bands in your office (in my case, cubicle) is a good thing.

** As always, if you’re curious … comment below and I’ll email you the password.