Whew. What a day. What a work week! And the sad thing is that my work week ain’t even over.
Yes. That’s right. I gots myself more work to do. And not just the normal “sign into our system from my laptop at home” -type of work. Nope … Tomorrow I get to schlep my butt back downtown and work at my wonderful cubicle. And that’s because the rest of my team is coming in for a little overtime work as well.
Sigh … Why does it always seem like the beginning of a business year is less about “new beginnings” and “fresh starts” and more like “leftovers” and “pilot projects”? Not like I already have a pretty full plate …
And it’s only February! Can’t *wait* to see what’s in store for the rest of the year.
So yes, work has been insanely busy. What I had thought would be a break from insanity after the big audit in November has only brought more insanity. Which has been slowly building since … well, November.
Okay, so maybe I’m just going into panic / anxiety mode right now. Maybe I need to go back to my happy place (which always seems to involve sand, beach, water and palm trees) and just relax. Yeah … that’s what I should do.
Alrighty … enough complaining. Let’s talk about other things. Funthings. Like … the conversation I had with a fellow supervisor today about sports. Yes, sports … one of many things I love, like music and movies and books.
It’s been fun talking to this co-worker about sports; especially because of our love of our home teams; mine being Detroit and hers, Chicago. Her Bears and my hapless Lions. My “Bad Boys” Pistons to her “Michael Jordan” Bulls. My “Justin Verlander” Tigers and her “Mark Buehrle” White Sox.
But today’s discussion happened to be one of our all-time favorite sports: Hockey. And specifically Red Wings and Blackhawks Hockey. We had talked about how both our teams were doing (hers *really* good, ours … not so good) and the connection that our hockey teams shared.
Yep, that's the slap shot that Chelios taught me!
One of them is obviously Chris Chelios; who had grown up in Chicago and played for the Blackhawks for many MANY years. Except … as I chided with my co-worker … Chelios never won a Stanley Cup Championship until he played for the Red Wings.
This, of course, led to me sharing a dream I had of Chris Chelios a few years ago. One where I supposedly won a contest to participate in a Red Wings pre-game practice. And in that dream, I vividly recall having Chelios teach me how to set up a slap shot. Yeah … only *I* would have these types of dreams; but at least my co-worker appreciated it!
Anyway, the other connection that both the Red Wings and the Blackhawks shared were that they were part of “The Original Six” hockey teams of the NHL.
From there, the conversation went on to the whole “expansion” of the NHL over the years, and how some of these “new” teams were difficult to remember. (Woulda thunk Columbus, OH or Nashville TN would ever have an NHL team?!) Or what we’d do if we ever moved out of a non-Hockey city.
Specifically, we had talked about what Hubby & I would do if (when?) we move out west. Portland doesn’t have a hockey team; and neither does Seattle. Would we go for the Ducks? Or would it be the Cannucks (out of Vancouver)?
As it turns out, we both decided that we could never “give up” our home team; her Blackhawks and my Red Wings. That despite a move to a different city, we would always root for our home teams … we’d still hold on to our TIES to our hometown sports.
And I obviously do … as it’s been over a year since moving to Chicago and I stillcheer … not only my Red Wings … but for all the other Detroit home teams as well.
I always loved that Cameron Frye wore a Red Wings Jersey on "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"
Hello Blogland. It’s been awhile. And while I haven’t written much more than the quarterly (and now annually) performance evals for my staff as well as politically correct email after email … It’s not like I didn’t have the need or desire to write.
Storm Clouds gathering at the Mayan Ruins of Tulum
Like how, for the first time in, oh … I don’t know, 14 years, I wasn’t too wrapped up on how much the holiday season was about having a child in which to bestow such happiness and wonderment on. While part of the reason was because I was so busy between work and traveling back and forth from Detroit … I think it was honestly because I didn’t feel the need to separate myself from the friends and family with kids as I have in the past. It was rather … liberating, may I say.
Or how a year ago earlier this month, I celebrated my 1-yr work anniversary at my current place of employment. This means, of course, that it’s officially been a year since I’ve moved to Chicago.
That Sunday before my “anniversary,” Hubby and I spend the morning in bed. And as we lay there, all nice and snuggly underneath four layers of blankets, we recalled what it was like for us a year ago that day; how I watched him from our second story apartment window drive away from me back to our home in Michigan, where he would live until April.
And so it begins to rain on the coast of the Caribbean Sea
Hubby & I hugged a little tighter after that brief memory; and rightly so, as I recall feeling as if my heart had broken into a zillion pieces. Especially since we’d only see each other on the weekends after that. But Thank G*d for modern technology; specifically, video iChat, which allowed me to literally fall asleep “next” to him … even though we were separated by hundreds of miles of roads and, well, a gazillion miles worth of cable for such an internet connection.
Looking back on that first day of work last year, I still can’t believe how I managed to get through it without falling apart. New city, new job, new place of living … oh, and no car, too. Any one of those things could be considered a major stressor in life, but then throw in the fact that Hubby wasn’t physically there to hold my hand through it? Yeah, like I said … amazing I made it through a whole day, let alone three whole months before we were “living” under the same roof again.
It’s amazing how much one could draw strength at times when it’s needed most. Early 2009 was definitely one of those times. What I can’t understand is how strength can come in many different forms; especially at times when it seems as if things are the bleakest.
What? There's a beach down there?!
Last year, I drew strength from knowing that I was going to do everything possible to make this “new life” successful. I had to make it work; simply because I knew the consequences of it not working would be to move back to Michigan. Not that I wouldn’t do it (or be unhappy about it) if things came to that … I just wanted to try my best so that I could gain some momentum on success in my life.
So what or where did I draw strength from during my lowestpoint in my IF journey? Good question. Those days I honestly don’t know how I put one foot in front of the other. Because even though I tried my “best” to be successful in creating a family … well, we all know the end results. And how does one find strength from inside when the end result would never be 100% clear? Where the “consequences” of not being successful were just as, if not deeper and darker than the pain felt at the very beginning of the IF journey?
The short answer is that I don’t know. All I know is that, even though my IF journey ended with living child-free, I somehow managed to find a small glimmer of light, a slight silver lining around the edges of the storm clouds of infertility. And I managed to find some strength to find my way out of the darkness.
And I hope that any other IF-ers that read this knows that, even in its worse days, somehow that strength is buried deep inside; it’s just a matter of remembering to use it.
This post has been a long time in coming. Truthfully, this should have been written a few months ago. However, between preparations for the audit at work and having just recently had theconversation with Hubby a week ago, the timing just didn’t seem right.
A year ago earlier this month, I was in Chicago interviewing for the position that I now hold. The very same one that has given me much stress and headaches over the past 11 months. The same one that has made me realize exactly how strong I really can be … without the hormonal emotions getting in the way.
I specifically mention the “hormonal emotions” for a reason. That’s because when I look back during those active “baby-trying” years , I can nowsee how much strength I needed in order to get me through that period.
Except I can honestly say that I never feel that I was strong at all during that time period. I felt as I was living day-to-day, hoping that somehow I would catch a break from all the “hard work” I was putting into starting my family.
Whereas with the “challenges” I faced this past year … well, they didn’t feel like a day-to-day struggle. There was always an end in site for each new challenge I faced. From the very beginning of “Operation: Move to Chicago,” there was a goal in mind that was achievable:
Find an apartment; check.
Start new job; check.
Survive living alone in new city for three months with seeing Hubby only on the weekends; check.
Get through six months at new job without being fired from “My way or the highway” boss; check.
Live through high profile work audit with dignity intact; check.
Everything I faced since moving here was (relatively) successful; with that bright light guiding me to the end of a dark tunnel.
Unfortunately that same bright light was never there when facing the darkness that is infertility. And, in my case, definitely not successful … at least in the way that I defined success.
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There’s this memory I have from back in my high school years. It’s back when Disney began to start re-releasing classic movies on VHS tapes. The idea was so that a person could own these movies before they were put back into the “vault” of classic Disney animation.
My mother totally bought into that smart marketing ploy. In fact, she bought many videos including The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and … if I can recall, Sleeping Beauty. AND she wouldn’t even open them; storing them away in her dresser, in her own personal “vault.”
“Not fair,” I remember telling her. Especially since I loved Ariel and Belle. “Couldn’t we just open them up and watch them once?”
“No,” she had told me. She was saving them for her future grandchildren. So that she can sit down and watch these movies with them, whenever they came over to visit.
This memory, as inconsequential as it may seem to others, is one that cuts me incredibly deep. It’s a reminder of how I’ve failed to fulfill my parents’ dream of becoming grandparents.
Never mind that I already felt horribly bad that my body was not able to give my husband a child of his own. This specific memory reminds me that I’ve probably disappointed my parents as well. That I haven’t been able to give them the grandchildren that they’ve always wanted.
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I’ll be honest that one of the many reasons Hubby & I moved to Chicago was start fresh. There had been way too much emotional Infertility baggage that I had been carrying around for years. And although I had been working very hard at purging that baggage, I could never fully put it away … at least into a place within me that could make things manageable.
So putting some physical distance between myself and the baggage (which held waaay too many memories of hurt and disappointment), as well as the physical location where most of these memories occurred, was something I felt I needed to do.
And it’s with the blessing of my very supportive husband that we found ourselves moving out-of-state; away from the only “home” I had ever known. All this is in effort to be exposed to new people and to be open to new challenges. To have a fresh outlook on where Hubby & I stand in our quest to have a family.
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Next October will be my 20th High School Reunion. Part of me is interested in seeing where everyone is at in this stage of life; to see how far they’ve come since we were teenagers. Then there’s the rebel in me that thinks, “Pshaw … HS Reunions are so ‘Peggy Sue Got Married’! We must break this cycle at once!”
And then there’s the Infertile (with a capital “I”) in me. The one with no children. The one with nothing exciting to show for my life over the past 20 years, other than a degree (only undergrad, to boot!) and a good job. I’ve no kids to brag about; I’ve no incredible 3,000 square foot house to talk about. All I have is a decent walk-up apartment in the city and fur children that shed hair all over the place, including my clothes.
At least I have an incredible husband who I can show off and brag about.
As it is, I’m still debating on whether I want to go or not. However, what I doknow is that a bunch of the HS friends that I still keep in touch with, will be planning a more low-key get-together some time next year. That should, at the very least, be a “milestone” something to look forward to next year.
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I’ve had the pleasure of (finally) seeing my new family physician, not once but twice in the past few months. One was the quick one-over, “Hi, nice to meet you” -type of visit. The second was my yearly female parts check-up.
Both times my physician asked me if I was interested in pursuing further treatment for my infertility. And both times, I told my physician I still wasn’t ready to make that decision. I was in the midst of still adjusting to my new job in a new city.
And I needed more time to separate want vs. need, hope for the future vs. more disappointment, treatment vs. acceptance.
Let me say it’s extremely strange to go from living in one State where In vitro Fertilization (IVF) is not covered, to currently living in a State where it now is. To now have that option to choose what course of treatment that Hubby & I would like to pursue in creating our family.
For those that don’t know, infertility treatments are sometimes not covered by health insurance in certain States. There may be some aspects of treatments that are covered (such as the work-up and, at times, the medications), but for the most part infertility treatments — and specifically IVF is not.
The Infertile RN in me thinks it’s utterly cruel to allow coverage for the work-up of the infertility diagnosis and then turn around and not cover the treatment for it. Even though IVF is not a “guarantee” that one would be successful in starting a family, there’s still that little bit of chance that it becomes successful in “curing” that person’s infertility.
I relate it to treatment for cancer. Much like chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy is considered standard treatment for a person with such a condition … it’s never a “100% guarantee” that the cancer would be “cured” or go into remission.
It’s that double-standard in treatment of a health condition that bothers me the most about the lack of coverage in IVF treatments. Because, quite frankly … the RN Case Manager in me (the one who works for a health insurance company) strongly believes that people have the right to choose how they would like to pursue treatment and have the Health Insurance that I pay for assist in coverage for that treatment.
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This January, it will be a year since I’ve lived in Chicago. And April will mark the official date that Hubby & I will have lived together in this bright new city (well, new to us anyway).
During this past year, Hubby & I have had a chance to open our hearts and minds to different possibilities. We’ve had the opportunity to accept where we’re at when it came to reassessing our options in creating our family.
We’ve talked about IVF and the impact it may have emotionally for me … Both if it wasn’t successful and if it actually was. But even though we know the option of IVF is available to us in the fine State of Illinois, both of us have decided not to pursue that route.
We’ve also had the opportunity to discuss adoption more in depth. To decide if this was the right path for us to take. And the more we thought about it, the more we decided that this was also something we wouldn’t be a 100% comfortable with. (Okay, I admit it. It’s me. I’m the one who fears that I’ll just end up being disappointed again. And I fear that I’d get stuck down that rabbit hole of darkness once again.)
So what does this all mean? Well, readers. It means that Hubby & I have accepted that having children at this moment is not in our best interest. It means, that we have accepted the fact that we may never have children. (Okay, maybe it’s more like *I* accepted this fact, because Hubby was light years ahead of me in this thought.)
This means that we’ve consciously and deliberately have made the choice to begin living life child-free.
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It’s taken me more than 12 years, but I think I’ve finally reached some closure in my infertility journey.
Yet even as one door has closed in my life, I’m still learning to live with the reality of this decision. My infertility is no longer a daily struggle, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have those “moments.”
And those “moments” are the reason I choose to continue writing on this blog. Except now, instead of this blog being about the longing to have a children, it will be about trying to let go of this longing. About learning to look forward to my new future with Hubby. The new journey we’ll be taking together.
It’s about trying to break free from these Apron Strings.
Just wanted to quickly share the video from Oprah’s season opening performance by the Black Eyed Peas. This was Frickin. Amazing. Just to see how they got close to 21,000 people to do this dance was amazing!
And now I’ve got this song playing over and over in my mind. BUT … I suppose if I had to have a song stuck in my head, this is a good one to have!
(To see the “official version” for better picture quality, click here!)
I used to think that the more “hits” I had on my blog a day signified how much of an impact I was making in the infertility world. I thought that the more people I “reached” through my writing, the more people would relate to my struggle.
Of course now that this blog is more that two years old, I know the real truth.
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Today Hubby and I hung out downtown after I got off work today. Oprah had conveniently closed down Michigan Avenue to celebrate her 24th season opener. And — even though I’d love to say Hubby and I went down there because we’re such “newbies” to the city — the truth is that we both saw attending this huge event as such a unique opportunity.
Because seriously … when would something like this ever happen if we were living in Detroit? (No … Superbowl XL does not count!)
I could totally see all the activities from my 21st floor Office Building!
I mean, really … who else, other than Oprah could get the City of Chicago to shut down the streets for the day? As a fellow co-worker, who’s Hubby works for the Police Dept said, “They don’t even shut down the streets for the funerals of fellow Police Officers or Firemen!”
Since the “show” was not being streamed live on TV, there were many takes between segments. The Black Eyed Peas would perform one song, be interviewed and then perform a second song; all with probably a nice 15 minute interlude between “scenes.” The same thing happened after Cris Angel performed and before Jennifer Hudson’s “band” set up for her performance.
Many times between segments, the crowd was able to hear what Oprah would be saying; a hazzard of the trade, since she was “mic”-ed the whole time. Not to mention the fact that she pretty much had cameras on her the entire time.
Those circumstances obviously made for a couple funny moments. Like the time Oprah was caught asking her make-up crew to apply more powder to her. Or when she mentioned out loud that it was a good thing she wore extra deodorant today.
It was in hearing her voice “live” (versus on the TV) that suddenly made Oprah “real” to me. And actually seeing and hearing those “every day” type of comments / actions? Well, I guess that just confirmed to me that Oprah wasn’t just some “high up on a pedestal” type of person.
Too bad I couldn't get any closer!
Before today Oprah always seemed to represent an untouchable legend; a person that could probably not do a thing wrong. A powerful person whose whose opinions and/or commentaries could influence mass audiences anywhere. A person, who … by just her voice alone, could certainly make an impact.
And today I also realized that Oprah was a person who, despite how incredibly “popular” a celebrity she is, appeared to be quite lonely. A person, who, as incredibly approachable as she seemed to be, appeared to “wish” that someone — anyone — would approach her in between segments. Instead, the majority of the time she ended up sitting alone by the side of the stage. To the people surrounding her (whether her crew or even the audience), they most likely shied away from her so as not to intrude her space.
Now if given an opportunity, I could speculate that Oprah would have loved to show her soft, compassionate and intimate side. And I say that only because during the course of the evening, I happened to witness two instances. One occasion involved Jennifer Hudson who, in her postpartum hormonal state, sought reassurance from Oprah that her performance was absolutely spectacular. (It was!) The other instance occurred when a fan, apparently close enough to talk to Oprah, mentioned to her that it was her birthday. And Oprah, with her response, mentioned that she recognized the birthday girl dancing during the one of the Black Eyed Peas songs.
In both those instances, I’m sure that each individual who received such attention from Oprah (as in “Oprah, the Legend”) was “touched” by such simple actions. And I hope that both individuals were humbled that, if approached or even met half way, Oprah would make any attempt to engage them into her personal world … at whatever level she felt comfortable.
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Okay, so what does Oprah have to do about blog writing and/or making an impact on the world? Well, let me share with you the revelation I had on the train-ride home tonite:
It doesn’t matter how many people I “reach” (or how many “hits” I get) on a daily basis … it’s simply the thought that I’ve somehow impacted someone somewhere down the line; whether it be a simple statement said or an observation made.
And that even though I don’t get the monstrous number of “hits” or “comments” that I would love to get … I am making a difference to that one person who is willing to understand me and “meet me half way.”
And now … check out the “footage” I shot from the show …
It’s the Black Eyed Peas performing their latest single, “Meet Me Halfway”
It’s too bad I had to work all day … otherwise I would have loved to be on the other side of this monitor!
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