Infertile Me – Page 18 – Apron Strings for Emily

21 May 200921 October 2010

Letting Go …

This past Sunday morning at our Michigan home was a rough one.

I should preface this by saying that the raggedness of that morning had absolutely nothing to do with the baptism we attended later on that day. Because I was actually looking forward to spending time with these good friends; a couple that experienced the roller coaster of infertility first hand. I was looking forward to meeting their daughter for the first time.

Nor did it have to do with spending time with those other family friends’ kids who are waaay too adorable. Because, believe me … seeing how these kids grew so much over the past six months was just plain fun. (Personally, the story about our friend’s two year old son placing a Vic.toria’s Secret bag on his head and walking around calling himself Opti.mus Pri.me was my absolute favorite!)

Nope, what made the morning rough was what I stumbled upon while cleaning off the top of our dresser.

And the thing is … I should have known better because it was in the same exact place I left it when I last stumbled upon this item.

Hubby happened to be there this time when I found the picture of our two would-be babies. And he noticed the subtle flinch I made as I picked it up and set it aside … this time to pack it away so that it would be “filed” somewhere safe, so as not to be lost while in the midst of our “final” move to Chicago.

And when Hubby asked me if I was okay, I told him the truth. I was okay for the moment, but I was sure that it would affect me at a later date. It could be tonite … or it could be next week.

As it turned out, I would have to face my feelings about my failed IVF at that very moment. Because that was the moment that Hubby stood next to me, picked up the snapshot and said, “I’m going to throw it away.”

“No,” I immediately responded. “Don’t.” And when Hubby asked me why, I responded “Because that’s the only picture I have of them.”

Them, meaning my babies. My one instance at biological motherhood I would ever experience. The one time I could ever say that I had babies inside of me. So what if my babies didn’t “stick”? So what if I never got my second pink line? Or an HCG level that would ever equate to a positive pregnancy test? That picture was everything that could have been. That picture harvested all those unfulfilled possibilities.

And even though that one and only IVF cycle failed … that picture showed that Hubby & I were able to create something (or rather three * “somethings”… even though we didn’t have a snapshot of our third) from the two of us. It was a testament what lengths Hubby & I traveled in order to have children created from our own flesh and blood.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hubby said in response. “We’ll always know what they mean to us.”

And because I had no smart reply to that, Hubby continued. “It’s time to move on,” he told me. “We need to keep moving forward.”

“D*mn it,” I remember thinking to myself. “He’s right.” But rather than acknowledge it (after all, I am stubborn), I continued cleaning off the dresser.

That is, until Hubby snuck up behind me and put his arms around my waist. “It’s time,” he repeated.

“I know,” I finally said to him as he picked up the picture from where I last placed it on the dresser.

“So I can throw it away?,” Hubby asked.

“Yes,” I said. “But do it quickly before I change my mind.” And then as he took the picture and walked towards the trash can, I turned the other way.

“I can’t watch,” I told Hubby.

I listened to Hubby slowly walk away from me and pause by the bedroom door. Where the trash can was. And after a quick rustle of paper, the picture was gone.

*****

I blocked that moment out of my mind for the rest of the day; busy with two parties, the one baptism I mentioned above and the other a birthday party for my aunt. Both at buffet restaurants, may I add. (Still. So. Stuffed.) Then it was the long drive back to Chicago so I could work in the morning.

It wasn’t until Hubby & I dropped my cousin off (who bummed a ride with us to attend our Aunt’s party) that Hubby and I talked about our “babies” again. And how hard it still was for me to let them “go.”

That’s when Hubby turned to me and told me that it was hard for him too. Hard for him to throw away the picture. Harder for him to let go than he thought.

And as sad as that moment was for me, there was that little sliver of hope … that small glimmer of light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. Because even though our car was packed with stuff we were moving from our old house to our new “home” in Chicago … the weight in my heart felt just a smidge lighter.

I guess this means I’m actually letting go.

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* Our third “something” was a lone blastocyte that was frozen. Hubby and I had hoped that more blastocytes would have survived the initial IVF procedure so that we would have the ability to try a “frozen cycle.”

14 May 2009

Fake Plastic Trees

So I’ve been in the workforce for … well, what seems like forever. Seriously. I started babysitting at the age of 12 years old and spent many a summers watching over the younger neighborhood kids. Or the kids of my parents’ friends

And then at the age of 16, I got my first “official” job as a burger-slinger at the local fast food establishment. (Think of the recent “King-On” commercials on TV. Yeah, it was that restauraunt …) I had a manager who was the spittin’ image of Tim Curry and thought that all Asian girls looked like Conn.ie Chung. He also had a habit of sticking any non-Caucasian employee in the back either making the sandwiches or washing dishes. Amongst other nasty comments he made, the naive person in me took a few years to I recognize what a bigot this man was. So yeah, I lasted about 3 months on that job.

280 — Hubby & I try to take "Foot Fotos" every time we go on vacation. This was taken at Cannon Beach, OR

The next summer I managed to land a job at the local mall working at a music store. No, it wasn’t an independent record store … although I always wished I could have worked at one. Yes, it was one of those retail chain stores that sold mostly Top 40 crap. But the job had its perks, which included a decent discount, first dibs on any “alternative” stuff that managed to come into the store, and a crap load of freebies that the label reps would hand out any time they came into the store. Oh … and we also got a lot of “heads up” on tour dates and album releases before the general public new. Of course pre-internet … that was a pretty d*mn cool perk. It was definitely a fun job to have, and the people that I worked with and interacted with on a daily basis definitely made the mundane more interesting.

I managed to keep the music store job for the next three years; lasting through the summer after my first year in college. And, if you can believe it … I also managed to hold a second job at one of the department stores within the same mall. That one wasn’t as fun, as I managed to get stuck in the men’s clothing department. However, to this day I know exactly how to fold a man’s dress shirt back into the original packaging it may have come in. Ain’t it amazing how we retain the stupidest things?

I finally quit both retail jobs after my first year in Nursing school. And that’s because I managed to get my first job in a hospital as a Nursing Assistant. Which turned in to a Nurse Technician position another year later. Which eventually turned into my first post-college job. Of course, I moved over to the bigger “sister” hospital at that time. Which meant more interesting patients and definitely more Residents (“Doctors-In-Training” … not to be confused with Med School students). Those first couple years post-graduation in my first job had to be one of the most exciting times of my career. Lots of new things to learn, lots of interesting co-worker dynamics, etc.

After about two years, the “glamour” and excitement of working on “the floors” started to wear down on me. Things suddenly became routine. And since by then I was married, working the afternoon shift and every other weekend grated on me because, as a newlywed, I just wanted to spend time with my Hubby. It’s about that time when I started to feel the “burn out” of working on the floors. And looking back now, I have a feeling that the reason I was burning out was more because of the way our unit was being managed* and not by the people I worked with or the actual work I was responsible.

In any case, my “break” literally came when I injured my back on the job. How, may you ask, did that happen? Well, it’s not that a patient fell on me … rather it was me that fell on a patient. Yep. As a fellow RN and I were lifting a patient who slipped off of her chair onto the floor, this patient began to lose her balance. Now … in Nursing School, you’re taught to “ease” a patient that is falling down onto the floor. In otherwords, you don’t let go of the patient; you guide them slowly onto a chair or back down on the floor. Well … while I attempted to “ease” this patient onto the floor, my fellow RN decided to just let the patient go.

And down the patient went. With me right on top of her shortly afterwards. And … ouch, what was that sharp pain I felt in my lower back?

I happened to be off that weekend and when I couldn’t sleep comfortably for the next two days, I decided it was time to fill out paperwork. So after a couple of Employee Health appointments and an MRI to my lower back, I found out I had a herniated disk. And despite the months of physical therapy and cortisone shots (which, by the way, I think may have been one of the reasons for my IF issues … ), the pain to my back and it’s associated numbness and tingling down my left leg persisted. So that’s when I decided to have surgery to correct the herniated disk. (What can I say? I was only 25 at the time and I didn’t want to be in pain for the rest of my life!)

And that’s when I met my disability RN Case Manager for the first time. She’s the one who showed me that there were other areas of Nursing that I could get in to with my degree. So armed with that information, when I returned to work I was lucky enough to have a fellow RN who was doing Case Management for the hospital I worked for. She’s the one that got me my first position in Case Management and I haven’t turned back to floor nursing since.

So I guess you can say that I literally “fell” into Case Management. Ha!

Okay, so that long diatribe wasn’t what I was getting at when I first started this post. What I’m really getting at is that since I was a young’in I worked. And once I graduated from college and joined the career workforce, I’ve worked. Full time, mind you. The only time I ever took a break between jobs (besides when I went for my back surgery) was when I left the hospital to work for a health insurance company. And even then, it was less than a week. And when I left that job to come here to Chicago, I took absolutely no time off in between.

Oh sure, I’ve had time off during the year. I mean, we Full-Time folk do accrue vacation time that we are entitled to. And trust me, Hubby & I make it a point to take a vacation because that’s a priority for us in life. I mean really, it’s our time to recharge our batteries and refuel our energy so that we can delve headfirst into our careers with new purpose. We need that time because, unlike others that have different priorities than us, our childless (or child-free, still deciding) life consists of little more than our careers.

At Lake Louise, Banff, Alberta (Canadian Rockies)

Okay, so I’m overexagerating here (or as Hubby says I’m “V.H.1 Storytelling”). I mean, I wouldn’t be writing / blogging and Hubby wouldn’t be sketching if I didn’t do anything more than wake up and go to work every day. But I think you readers may get the point.

It’s been just over five months since I moved to Chicago and started this new job, without taking more than 2 days off (strictly for the NYE holiday) inbetween. And before that, it’s been since July last year that Hubby & I have taken any sort of vacation together. Needless to say, I’m ripe for some time off.

H*ll. I don’t even care if it’s a Stay-cation. I don’t care if I don’t do more than read, write or blog for a week. I just want to have the time dedicated to ourselves. To be together. To fully relish in the big move that the two of us made together. To explore our new local surroundings. (Hmm … I guess you could call that a “Play-cation” then. Not to be confused with “placate” though … ) All without the pressure to keep working. To make deadlines. To set new goals. To maintain the current goals.

Seriously, I’d be happy to just be in bed with Hubby, imagining we’re back in Hawaii lying in a hammock on the beach at sunset. Perhaps we can bring in some fake plastic trees, too.

Cannon Beach, OR again ... Recognize the rock from "Goonies"?

As it is, the next long weekend we have planned will be Memorial Day. (But then, is it a vacation if the rest of your company is off too?!) And the next one would be Independence Day … which is followed closely by my birthday that following Monday. And d*mn it … you know I’ll be taking that day off. I mean, I’ll at least have accrued one or two vacation days by then …

I mean if I can’t take time off to find a new career path or even take time off to take my imaginary kids to a fun vacation spot during their imaginary summer vacation … let alone to take a maternity leave for that imaginary pregnancy, too … I should be entitiled to have my own birthday off. Don’t you think?

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* I know that now, only because being in a leadership position … I know that a person never leaves a job because of the people or because of the actual work. Nope. In my experience, most people that go willingly on to “greener pastures” (or maybe not so “greener” …) leave because of who they report to.

10 May 2009

Oh Happy Day …

Ha. Yes, I realize it’s the end of that fine May Day where every person living celebrates the woman who gave birth to them. And believe me … I am most grateful for all that Hubby’s Mom and my Mom have done for us for our entire lifetime. We are truly lucky to have been given these beautiful women as our mothers.

And then there’s the other aspect of today. The day that emphasizes how much I am not part of that group of women who (rightly) receive such lavish attention today. The aspect that makes me feel like a wallflower at a high school dance … er, maybe more like some “Spring Mother/Daughter Event.” Basically, the one that feels a bit left out.

Truth be told, I *am* getting a little bit used to it … the feeling that I’m different from the rest of the world. Or maybe it’s because this year … well, it wasn’t exactly spent planning on how we would celebrate with our Mom’s. (Because, truthfully … that “chore” ironically ends up with the infertile couple every year. Pshaw!) And that’s because this year Hubby & I stayed in Chicago for the weekend.

Found this on a tshirt at Shedd Aquarium and just *had* to snap a photo. I thought it was hilarious! — Found this on a tshirt at Shedd Aquarium and just HAD to snap a photo. I thought it was SO hilarious!*

Okay, so we actually did plan on going home to Detroit this past weekend. But well, work has been kickin’ a$$ (and taking names, too!) lately. And some of my “duties” just happen to overflow into Saturday. So yeah, there was no way I was going to have us drive back for one day and one day only.

Now next week … different story. Double duty. But that’s okay. Because the rest of the world won’t be celebrating it with us!

So instead … today I labored and gave “birth” to something else. Yep … another blog. Which truly has absolutely nothing to do with infertility, daily work or life woes, or even just plain old thoughts or observations. Nope. This new blog has everything to do with Superheros. And comics.

“Wha?!,” I can hear you saying. Yes; you read it right. Superheroes and comics. Oh, and I should add that it’s a “collective” blog … with me (that’s right, *ME*) as the administrator and commissioner. But rather than writing about it here … go over and check out the “About” section.

Hey … if I had to spend Mother’s Day without either of our Moms and without children of my own … better to do something that will keep me from “thinking” too much.

And we all know what happens when those awful thoughts start creeping up from the back of my mind …

Anyhoo … for all of my female friends (in real life or in bloggie world) that are blessed with children … Happy Mother’s Day to y’all!

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* The other reason I love this picture so much is because May in Detroit typically means “Open Octopus” season during Red Wings Playoff!

06 May 2009

Goin' With The Flo

I made the mistake of heading into the Hallmark store in my office complex yesterday. What part of me thought that taking that little detour on my lunch break during this time of year was a good idea? Yeah, silly me.

Lucky for me, every year Mother’s Day happens to be only a “day” in the midst of another important week of the year. Well, at least for those that happen to be “tight” with Florence Nightingale, anyway.

Yes, every year Nurse’s Week is celebrated in the US from May 6th to May 12th. Why those days specifically? Well, it’s because May 12th is the actual birthday of the “Pioneer of Modern Nursing.” And May 12th is officially known as International Nurses Day.

So yeah, having a whole week “dedicated” to my profession … it certainly takes the focus of the one day of the year that practically the whole nation celebrates the one thing in the world that has eluded me the most. The one day that celebrates the biggest disappointment I’ve encountered thus far in my life.

But going back to the whole Nurse’s Week thingy … I have to say that I find it pretty humerous that I ended up in the profession I did … and “liking” it.

Click on image to read the pledge and Detroit's history in it ...

First of all, there are waaaay too many Filipinos in this profession. And in my youth, I was constantly trying to break out of the stereotypes that follow my culture. But ultimately it was the whole “respect your elders” part of my culture that had me ending up pursing a career in nursing. In other words, rather than spend my undergrad years “pondering” what I wanted to do in life while my parents (most graciously) funded my university education … the suggestion was made by many-a-relative that nursing would provide me a lucrative* career while I figured out what I really wanted to do with my life. Lucky (or unlucky, depending how it’s looked at) for me, while I still don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life (as motherhood obviously hasn’t worked out) … at least there are enough “avenues” in the profession of Nursing that I’ve been able to dabble in other areas other than bedside nursing.

I do have to add this though … no matter where I’ve worked (in an office setting or at the bedside), I am constantly being asked when I’ll be bringing in pancit or lumpia to any potluck. Totally sucks for my co-workers who have the perception that all Filipinos are able to cook. Hah!

And speaking of different “avenues” of Nursing … I have to point out that this is probably the reason I do “like” the profession I’m in. Because believe me, in this modern day and age of health care … burnout in the “bedside” aspect of Nursing is pretty darn high. That’s because despite the advances in medical care, people that are admitted to the hospital are much much more “sicker” than they were in the past. And despite the higher acuity in patient care needs, the nurse-to-patient ratio has not improved in years. In fact, in many parts of the nation, the number of patients assigned to one nurse has exponentially increased; leaving Nurses at the bedside with more to do with less resources.

My Nursing School's reknown "Nightingale Award" (click on image)

This is why I am glad I’m no longer doing “direct patient care.” This simply means that I’m not physically reaching out and touching a person. (Not to say that I’m not “caring” for them, though.) Rather the aspect of Nursing I’m part of is Case Management. So what’s the role of an RN Case Manager? Well, in a basic explanation, a Case Manager assists in coordinating the care of a clinically complex person in order to maximize this person’s ability to care for themselves.

Confusing, right? Well, let’s just say that instead of physically caring for a patient while he/she — I don’t know — is “tossing their cookies” … I’m the Nurse that, once the acute illness “settles down,” is helping to make sure that these patients follow up appropriately with their physicians or other health care professionals in order to prevent a recurrence or complication of their condition. And I’m the same Nurse that spends MORE time educating a patient and/or family member about their disease or condition so they can understand their physician’s plan of care and the various options they may have available to them.

Florence "The Lady With The Lamp" Nightingale — "The Lady With The Lamp"

Yeah, I bet you didn’t know that there were many aspects of Nursing as a profession. Just like I’m sure that you may forget about other jobs that Nurses do that don’t necessarily involve working in a hospital, nursing home or Doctor’s office. Yes. Nursing is everywhere. Like in the home setting. Or in the community. Or even at your own workplace.

Heck, you might even work directly with a Nurse. Or even an “ex-Nurse.”** Because believe me, we’re everywhere.

So with that said … I must remind everyone out there to wish all the Nurses you know a “Happy Nurses Week” over the next seven days. Because despite what it feels like to most Infertiles out there … this week isn’t all about being a Mom. Sometimes it’s all about going with the “Flo” … Florence Nightingale, that is.

Yeah. I’m that cheesy.

On an even sillier note … I must share this picture with you to show how “smart” my kitty cat can be. Notice how she’s perched on a pillow? Well … as she knows she’s not allowed on our new sofa, she’s found a way to get around it … by being on top of a pillow instead of directly on the sofa. How cute can she be?!

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* “Lucrative” as in “there are always going to jobs available in nursing” … not “lucrative” as in financially “stable.”

** Although I always say, “Once a Nurse, always a Nurse.”

01 May 200922 April 2011

NIAW 2009, Pt VI

(The conclusion of the six-day series celebrating NIAW. I’d say it’s because I “planned” it that way … but the truth is, the series started out as one extremely looong post. To start at the beginning, click here.)

Again, I just want to reiterate the importance of understanding infertility and how it effects a person’s entire lifestyle. Because to me … misunderstanding leads to fear. Which leads to anger. Which leads to hate. Which eventually leads to suffering.

Yes, I am aware that I am quoting Yoda.

And while I’m at it, I am aware of how my fear of the unknown (during my travels through the land of infertility) has led me down such a huge spiral of negative emotions. But that just proves that Yoda (nee George Lucas ) was right.

So there you have it. Infertility and Loss, as explained by me.

And just so you know, I realize that a loss is a loss is a loss. Whether it’s a loss associated with infertility or with the death of a loved one or with having to deal with any given life-altering event. To me, it has never mattered how big or small the loss is. And there is simply no use in “comparing” one particular loss to another. Because the pain, heartache and devastation that follows any loss is, quite frankly, universal. It’s all in how you deal with the loss that is important.

My way of dealing with my loss is by writing about my experiences, about my emotions. It’s my way of expression in a culture and society that otherwise may not know how to respond to such a loss. It’s my way of “bonding” with other infertility bloggers out there that can understand where such emotions come from. It’s also my way of educating family and friends about infertility and its affect on every day life.

So … by writing this series of posts, I hope that you’ve come to a better understanding of infertility. And that you’ve been able to take something away from this. I also hope that it has encouraged you to be better prepared in supporting the “one in eight couples” you know that are likely silently suffering through infertility.

Finally, I hope these posts emphasized how very important the “Miracle of Life” is and not to take any part of it for granted. I have learned, first hand, exactly how miraculous “conception” can be.* Oh … and how VERY expensive infertility treatments can get … as most of them are still not covered by health insurance.

So, as you’ve (hopefully) already read through my five previous posts written in celebration of “National Infertility Awareness Week” … I do ask one more favor of you. Click over to this page. And learn even more about what you can do to support your infertile friends.

Learn more. Support more. Be AWARE.

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* And if you care to know, it is absolutely true that all the stars in the world must align properly for any conception to occur … the timing of fertilization needs to be that precise in order for conception to occur.)