Category: Infertile Me

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Required Reading

Holy Schmoly! (Try spelling THAT, you Spelling Bee kids!) NaComLeavMo ROCKS!

I have read so many new blogs over the past 5 days that it’s frickin’ ridiculous. And I’ve gotten comments from so many new people that I feel like I’ve been voted in as Homecoming Queen! (Hey, what can I say … I’m a Midwesterner and Homecoming Queen was more important than Prom Queen …) Thanks to everyone that has stopped by to leave a comment … all of your words mean more than you could ever know. Because, if I haven’t outright mentioned it before … prior to starting this blog, I felt I had little to no support as I’ve fumbled through this IF world. And now … well, I’m ecstatic that I’ve found, not only an outlet for my frustrations, but a whole support system I never knew existed until just over a year ago. I truly wish I would have found out about you all ten years ago, when I first got on this d*mn roller coaster.

And as I’ve been going down the NaComLeavMo list of blogs, I’ve started to add more subscriptions to my google reader. And since I haven’t had a chance to read the blogs of those I’ve already subscribed to … well, let’s just say that I’ve got a lot of reading to do this weekend. I’ve tried to chip away at it night after night, but dangnabbit! That list still keeps growing. I swear, I spent the whole evening alternately watching the Pistons lose (grrr ….) and reading / commenting on blogs off of my google reader. And I’m not even halfway through all the posts …

Well … I guess between going to a Bridal Shower on Saturday (thank G*d it’s not the other variety of shower), watching the Red Wings game Saturday evening, and meeting up with fellow Metro-Detroit bloggers for lunch on Sunday … I will have to do more reading!

But right now I’m going to climb into bed and crash … YAWWWWNNNNN

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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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At Arm's Length

Yesterday I realized that my SIL is due in a little over three months. And while I spent most of her pregnancy with Liam wallowing in self-pity and anger, this time around I’ve pretty much “ignored” the fact that she was once again pregnant. And I’m once again not.

Okay, so I haven’t completely ignored the fact that SIL is pregnant. Yes, we’ve talked a little about it, but mostly to see how her baby was doing. Because I know how difficult it was for her to go for so many tests, especially after she had found out that Liam would be born with some “imperfections.” So yeah … I’ve tried to be there if she needed me.

Thank God she hasn’t. Needed me, that is.

Yes I realize how incredibly odd that sounds. Probably a little cruel, if I’m being completely honest. But there really is reason behind it.

First of all, her baby is doing well. And thus far, there’s no need for concern over the possibility of any major health issues for her OR the baby. So “being there” as a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent to … as was necessary with her pregnancy with Liam … is not completely needed this time around.

And second of all, I’ve distanced myself purposefully for self-preservation. While I normally consider myself a kind person who is empathetic to most people’s individual situations, this time around I can’t be. Okay, so I do understand how scared my SIL probably is about this pregnancy, especially since it’s been just over a year since Liam was prematurely born. But I just can’t share those sentiments with her.

Because I’m not, nor will I ever be in the near future, pregnant.

Yes I could set aside that fact and just be 100% there for her. But as infertility is such a big huge ginormous part of who I am at this stage of my life, I simply just can’t let the sadness … the anxiety … the anger of not being able to produce my own biological child go.

So keeping myself at arm’s length during my SIL’s pregnancy is the best thing I could do for her. Because I don’t want her to feel my sadness. And I don’t want her to feel my anger. Because, quite frankly, she doesn’t need to focus on any of those emotions except making sure she brings a healthy baby into this world. This time around.

And once her baby is here … just like her other children both past and present … I hope she knows that (s)he will be loved by me. Completely.

I just need to survive the pregnancy.

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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.