Category: Infertile Me

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Two Steps Back

So recently there was this really honest post that Duck put out in the blogiverse. It had to do about wanting to want to adopt. It’s one that apparently remained stuck in my mind, despite it being posted over two weeks ago.

I’m at the point in my life where I’ve really got to start figuring out what to do about adoption. I know it’s my next step, but yet every day there seems to be something that pops in my mind that puts me back another step or two. Especially these last four months.

First there was my Hubby’s grandmother. Then there was the news about another pregnancy for my SIL. And, of course, my Dad’s hospitalization.

And in between all these events, my good friend, Endometriosis decides to come back and nestle into my nice warm body. Oh, and shortly afterwards, Aunt Flo comes for the visit from H*LL. Nothing like emphasizing that I can’t get pregnant. It’s like an exclamation point (in this case, a “period”) at the end of me shouting “I am infertile.”

So yeah, like a said, a few steps back.

Not that I’m blaming any of these particular events for my recent train of thoughts. It’s more what I’ve somehow managed to have each separate event represent. (I over-analyze things, if you haven’t caught on by now.) SIL’s pregnancy? That’s easy … and obvious. Dad’s hospitalization? How precious and fragile life can be; and how things can change in the blink of an eye. Hubby’s grandma? How one’s life affects so many others … especially their kids and their grandkids, and so on and so on.

And all of this relates back to adoption and back to Duck‘s original post, how? Well, I honestly think that those going through IF need to fully resolve their issues of not being able to biologically produce their own child before they look to adoption.

At first, I thought I was there. I thought I could simply give up the notion of not being able to produce a biological child of mine. And when I talk about biological child … I’m strictly talking about a child that looks like a mixture of Hubby & me. One that might have certain features or personality traits or even habits similar to us. One who would know his or her family tree and complete health history.

But then there’s the other aspect of not being able to produce my own child. It’s the feeling of being pregnant. Of watching my belly grow. Of craving strange things or claiming that I need more ice cream or chocolate for “the baby.” Of experiencing the joy of a positive pregnancy test and sharing that moment with Hubby. Of seeing my baby’s heartbeat on an ultrasound. Of being the guest of honor at my very own baby shower. Of people rubbing my belly. Of strangers coming up to me and asking when I was due. Of touring the hospital’s birthing center. Of going through lamaze. Of hearing the cries of my baby after he or she was just delivered. Of holding him or her in my arms for the first time. Of breastfeeding. Of coming home from the hospital with my precious cargo and my Hubby standing right next to me.

All that and much much MUCH more. Probably more than anyone who has never experienced infertility could ever understand. Empathize, yes. Completely understand, no. But then if we’re also talking about walking in someone else’s shoe, I also wouldn’t understand what it was like to lose a child. Or worse, the love of my life.

In any case, I find myself suddenly back to where I was before January; knowing that adoption is our next step … but once again scared to move forward.

After all, to want to want to adopt is a big thing. And to do that means I could possibly have utterly and completely given up on that dream to become pregnant. And that’s a pretty damn scary thing.

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Timing is Everything

One of our really good friends went on an interview recently for a job that he really REALLY wanted. And the thing is, both Hubby & I thought he’d be absolutely perfect at it. Plus, it would give him the opportunity to have an actual 9 to 5 job with no weekends or holidays. Which, of course, would make planning Red Coat Tavern or D&B outings a lot easier.

Unfortunately, he did not get that job and was understandably disappointed. And as he blogged about his disappointment, I couldn’t help but think of some words to console him.

What I wanted to say was that I was the type of person who believes that timing is everything. And in my infertility experience, that truly is the case. I mean, really. How many mornings did I wake up and roll over to grab my digital thermometer to take that basal temp? How many mornings did I have to run to the RE to get poked for blood to determine where my hormone levels were? And let’s not forget those early morning dates with the US technician and her magic wand. And when we’re talking serious science experiments here (aka, IVF), you’re literally dependent on perfect precise timing.

But that’s a different type of timing. That’s a “controlled” timing situation. Making sure that all the I’s are dotted and the T’s are crossed. That’s a much different type of timing when you compare it to “waiting for all the stars to line up” type of timing.

That type of timing is what I can best compare to as “fate” or “destiny.” When Path A intersects with Path B at a fixed point. When you just barely miss / catch those “Sliding Doors“ on the subway. And that’s the type of timing that I was thinking about when I contemplated on what my comment would be on our friend’s blog.

What I wanted to say to our friend was that I was the type of person that believed in that type of timing. That right now just wasn’t the “time” him to get the job. And that in the future, I believed that an even better opportunity would come along at the right time in his life. I truly do believe that for him, as he is such a wonderful person. Instead I simply stated that I hoped one day he would get that dream job that he so deserved.

I decided against using the whole “not the right time” statement, not because I didn’t believe it for him. Rather, I left it off because I’m feeling a little unsure about my own “fate” right now. Where exactly does my “destiny” lie? Am I ever supposed to be a mother? Am I really supposed to be achieving my “childhood dream“?

I’ve always been a firm believer in karma; the whole “what goes around, comes around” theory. I always sought to do the right things in life because I always thought that eventually good things would come back to me in spades.

I’m still waiting. And it’s waaay past even the standards for typical Filipino Time (which is alway late).

Okay, so I know that I’ve been given other good things in life … Good, stable job. Roof over my head. Food in my belly. Family and friends. Wonderful husband. But I’m still waiting for children, waiting to become a mother.

Maybe I haven’t done enough good things in my life at this point.

**********

On a completely unrelated note … check out the latest post on my other blog for a good laugh.

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Brick Walls (Childhood Dreams, Pt 2)

Oh my … I never expected the responses and hits that my “Childhood Dreams” post about Ran.dy Pa.usch’s “Last Lecture” would stir. As of today, that post alone has had just under 100 hits. Next to my “Year of the Rat” post, that’s the most viewed entry I’ve had.

While I’m honestly not surprised that it’s been viewed that many times (after all, Ran.dy Pa.usch’s lecture is incredible … even if the one I posted was the shortened 10-minute version of the original lecture); I am surprised by one particular email/comment I got. (Click here to see the actual comment.)

Okay, so I have to admit that I originally thought someone was spamming me or pulling my leg. So I took my time in responding. And I probably wouldn’t have responded until I decided to do a little Google PI (as in“Magnum PI“… yeah, I know; stale reference) in which I found out that this particular person actually did work for one of the national TV networks.

So I responded back (the minute I found out that this wasn’t spam) telling her that, yes I was interested … but I guess I just didn’t know how my blog related to Ran.dy Pa.usch’s lecture, as my blog was primarily about my struggles through infertility. But … just as soon as I sent out the email, I received this response back:

Hi Emily,

Next Wednesday night, ABC is airing a one-hour Diane Sawyer special on Professor Pausch. We noticed that his lecture was inspirational to so many people and incidentally the effects of his words are visible all over the internet. Though your blog is about a completely different subject, there are a variety of bloggers and “vloggers” talking about Ran.dy Pa.usch’s lecture.

Initially I was hoping you could share your thoughts about Randy’s lecture on camera but plans have changed a bit here and we will not be doing anymore on-camera interviews. If you’re interested however, I invite you to create a sort of video blog in which you talk about the lecture and whether or not it has affected you in any way. Of course I understand if this is impossible but I thought I would throw the option out there. There’s always the possibility we would include a short clip in the special.

Please don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions.

Best regards,
Astrid

Aw shucks … I guess I missed my 15 minutes of fame. And while I can all hear you saying … “You should do a vlog! You should do a vlog!” To those of you that have met me IRL, I am not exactly the best person in front of a video camera … even if it is a clip of me just talking randomly into my iBook cam. For Pete’s sake … I babble enough when I write. What part of filming me babbling out loud makes for good video?! Uh … yeah. So no.

But that was just one reason why I was hesitant to do this. The other reason is that I confess that until today, I hadn’t even watched the whole 75 minute lecture (that’s still available here on you.tube, by the way). And after watching it today, I can tell you without a doubt that this lecture is In.Cred.Ible. I just found so much more inspiration in the original lecture that wasn’t even captured in the 10-minute Op.rah version.

And because work has been laying heavily on my mind lately, there were a lot of things I took out of this lecture that so relates to the whole work redesign thingy. Now … rather than go into great detail as to how it personally affects me and work (because somehow, I’m thinking it’s not such a good idea to do that here), these are the biggest nuggets I pulled out of this lecture:

  • Bosses: Respect authority while questioning it.
  • Have something to bring to the table; that way you’re always welcomed.
  • Be good at something; it makes you valuable.
  • Get the fundamentals down; otherwise the fancy stuff ain’t gonna work.
  • Don’t complain; just work harder.
  • Get a feedback loop on you and listen to it. The hardest part is not the criticism, it’s actually listening to it.
  • Apologize when you screw up. When you screw up and no one says anything to you any more, this means that they’ve given up on you.
  • Focus on others and not yourself.
  • Loyalty is a two-way street.
  • In order to get people to help you, you should always tell the truth, be earnest and show gratitude to those who help you.
  • Find the best in everybody; no mater how long you have to wait for them to show it. You might have to have to wait a long time … sometimes years … but people will eventually show you their good side.
  • You can’t get there (achieving your dream) alone, believe in karma. When you do the right thing, good stuff has a way of happening.
  • Sometimes things are just what they are. These are the cards that are dealt; we just got to know how to play the hand.
  • Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.
  • Never lose the child-like wonder; it’s just too important. It’s what drives us.

Yes … and this isn’t even all of those nuggets Ran.dy Pa.usch threw out there. There was so much more. But since the primary focus of this blog is about infertility, I do want to bring up that many of what he says can certainly apply to the struggles we face with infertility.

Okay, so the whole “Don’t complain; just work harder” and “Focus on others and not yourself” seems like a crock when we all know how much we’ve worked at and have thought of others while still trying to achieve our goal of producing our biological child. But there are other nuggets that do apply. Take for instance the whole “Get the fundamentals down; otherwise the fancy stuff ain’t gonna work.” Hello?! Think of the fancy stuff as IVF and IUI. H*ll yeah, you’ve gotta know what the basics are in order to find the “optimum conditions” to get knocked up.

Throughout the lecture, there was this analogy of a “bric.k wa.ll” that Professor Pausch kept referring back to. He verbalized that bric.k wa.lls are there for a reason. And that reason is to let us prove how badly we want to achieve our dreams. They’re also there to stop those who don’t want things badly enough; these are the people that the bric.k wa.ll is trying to keep out. The bric.k wa.ll lets us show how dedicated we are to our dreams.

The “Bric.k Wa.ll” analogy is the one thing in particular that I feel can best relate to and impact those struggling with infertility. Nothing like coming up against a bric.k wa.ll when one finds out that they’re having difficulty trying to conceive a baby. Nothing like trying to overcome any obstacle to to try to achieve that dream. Nothing like showing dedication to this dream by subjecting ourselves to many blood draws and needle sticks and test after test just to get a positive pregnancy test. Nothing like doling out boocoo bucks in order to pay for all these treatments; many of whom don’t even have a health insurance plan that will pay for it. And that’s just the aspect of trying to get pregnant.

Then there’s the other aspect of adoption. Again, nothing like climbing over that bric.k wa.ll by subjecting ourselves to home studies in order to determine if we’re worthy to adopt a child. Nothing like coming upon that bric.k wa.ll by putting ourselves out there to potential birth mothers or countries, as if to advertise ourselves like a singles ad:

“Mid 30’s couple seeks an open relationship with a birth mother who is willing to let couple raise her baby as their own.”

Or better yet, a want ad:

“Happily married couple looking for a country that is willing to provide a child to raise in the USA (infant preferred, but other situations negotiable).”

And of course, nothing else says dedication by coming up with creative ways to finance the adoption and then place the money up front, trusting that things will work out.

There is currently a movie out right now called “Run Fatboy Run“ starring Simon Pegg (of “Shaun of the Dead” fame). In the movie there is another analogy of the “Bric.k Wa.ll.” It refers to the point during a marathon when a runner figuratively comes up against the a bric.k wa.ll. It’s the point when the runner is both physically and mentally exhausted. When the way a shoe is tied or the way the shorts rub up against the skin is shear agony. Where every forward step taken feels like a million tiny scalpels are tearing you to shreds. It’s at that time the runner has to decide if he or she is mentally capable of forging through the bric.k wa.ll … or too weak to continue forward.

When it comes to that childhood dream I mentioned in my previous post … you know, the one about being able to nurture my child and to encourage him/her to dream big … I am currently facing that “Bric.k Wa.ll.” I have gone through the medical aspect of infertility; the work-up, the almost-daily blood tests, the ultrasounds. All that plus the failed IVF attempt. Then there were (and currently are) all the pregnancies of friends and family over the past ten years that I’ve had to face head on. And still, I have nothing to show for the miles I’ve already ran in this marathon. Talk about banging your head against a bric.k wa.ll.

So here I stand in front of this “Bric.k Wa.ll” (where I’ve been for the past ten years), knowing what I need to do next. And here I am trying to gather enough strength, both mentally and physically, to plow through (or climb over) that d*mn wall. If that isn’t dedication to my dream, then I don’t know what is.

One last nugget of inspiration from Ran.dy Pa.usch before I finally end this incredibly long post (I applaud anyone that has gotten to this point) …

“Don’t bail on your dream. The best gold is at the bottom of barrels of crap.”

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Posterior Side Effects

If one more person says, “You’re too young to have hot flashes!” I’m going to puke.

As if having the hot flashes isn’t bad enough, I get the whole lecture about how they didn’t start having these “issues” (a.k.a. menopause) until their late 40’s after children left the house. (Uh, thanks for reminding me I’m struggling through infertility!)

Check out my “cooling unit”
for them night sweats!

And these same people seem to feel it necessary to tell me how they’ve had so many other “issues” as they were going through “the change.” Like insomnia and night sweats (check). Or horrible headaches (double check). And the general lack of energy (triple check). Not to mention the general lack of filtering when it comes to saying what I think (quadruple check). And finally of course, those monstrously ginormous horrible mood swings (quintuple thru decuple check).

Never mind that my poor Hubby’s been getting the brunt of these side effects. Like those nasty mood swings. And the lack of desire to do anything (if you catch my drift). For Pete’s sake, the poor man has to sleep under layers and layers and layers of blankets and clothing just to keep warm while I suffer through yet another night of “hot flashes”!

So heed this warning … the next person who tells me I’m too young to be having any hot flashes … I am going to take my next dose of Lu.pron and shove it in their posterior.

 

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Me, Bartleby and Ta.rzan

Hubby & I spent the night on the west side of the state Saturday night. We were out that way specifically to catch the theater debut of one of our friends. (I’d tell you more about the play, but “I’d prefer not to.” But I do have to say, I do think our friend did a wonderful job.)

We’ve been to this town before (the most recent to see the Cowboy Junkies about five years ago), but never got a chance to really check the place out. But since our friend lives out there, we managed to get the “grand tour” of the area which included a trip to a local brewery that produces the only beer my alcohol-allergic / beer-loathing Hubby will drink. Seriously didn’t know that this brew was locally-produced.

Anyway, we ended up staying the night because the play didn’t even start until 11:00 pm. And then afterwards, well … of course we ended up going out and grabbing a drink afterwards. So we booked a room at one of the local hotels just to rest our heads for the night. After all, it’s a decent 3-hour ride back to Detroit and we weren’t about to make that drive after being out until 2 am. (Okay, maybe we would … if we were still college-age!)

The next morning, I turned on the TV in the room (while Hubby started to get ready) and started flipping through the channels. As I flipped, I stumbled onto the Dis.ney channel that happened to be showing the animated film, “Ta.rzan.” I don’t know what possessed me to keep the TV on that channel, but I suddenly found myself sucked into the movie.

There’s something about Dis.ney animated movies that I really enjoy. Especially the ones that were produced from “The Little Mermaid” onward. OK, so there were a few that I could care less about (hmmm … “Emperor’s New Groove”?), but overall I’ve liked their films.

In fact when planning our wedding, Hubby & I created a “Three Wishes” theme, including designing our own invitations (which, back in 1996, was definitely not a common thing to do) based on the movie “Aladdin.” It started with a porcelain figure of Jasmine & Aladdin that Hubby gave me when we were still dating which we thought would make a great cake topper. Then we chose “A Whole New World” from “Aladdin” as our first dance and then gave little ceramic genie lamps as our favors. Yes, I guess you can say we had our own version of our “Dis.ney Fairy Tale” wedding.

But I digress … What struck me about watching “Ta.rzan” was the whole “Boy being raised by a gorilla” thing. Specifically the part where Ta.rzan found out how he came to live with and grow up with a pack of gorillas. Now, I’m assuming that most people have seen this movie or are familiar with the story. However, if you haven’t and you have the urge to read the book / watch the movie … then I suggest you skip the next two paragraphs.

*
If you recall that in the movie (because the movie actually does vary a bit from the book by Edward Burroughs), Ta.rzan was brought up by a pack of gorillas and was always regarded by the other gorillas as different. This, however, didn’t matter to his “Mom,” Kala, who brought him up as her own, after losing her own baby gorilla by the same leopard who killed Ta.rzan’s parents. When Ta.rzan stumbles upon Jane and is surprised that there is a person who looks similar to him, he tries to learn from Jane (and her father) as much as he can about his “kind.” Ultimately, Jane is supposed to be leaving back for “merry olde England.” As Ta.rzan had ultimately fallen in love with her, he has to make the decision to either remain behind or go with Jane.

Before Ta.rzan’s decision is made, Kala tells him the truth about his parents and how, after her own son died, she raised him as if he was her own child. After he makes his decision to follow Jane, he turns to Kala and tells her that she will always be his mom.
*

Uh, yeah … and that’s where the tears started flowing. (Thank God Hubby was in the shower at that point!) I kept thinking that if I was Kala, I would would be absolutely heartbroken. Proud of him, but utterly heartbroken for myself.

First of all, it’s the whole “mother who loses her own biological child” thing. How can that not relate to how I’m feeling? Okay, so I never was able to get pregnant on my own and have never physically lost a pregnancy. Or worse, a baby. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have the right to grieve about not being able to have my own biological baby. And how about those that have experienced failed IVF’s alongside with me? Or those that have experienced ectopic pregnancies or miscarriages? Those are all losses.

And then there’s the whole “being raised by someone that didn’t give birth to you” issue. Uh … that would totally relate to adoption. I know that my journey through infertility has taken me down the adoption path. And I know that every day I am one step closer to becoming just as strong as Kala wanting to raise a child that isn’t biologically part of me.

I know that adoption is my fate and once I have my child, I will be so totally, utterly and unconditionally in love with him/her. BUT … I can’t help but think that somehow, somewhere down the adoption path I will truly start to freak out about the possibility that this child might not love me or feel that the love he/she has for me is not as strong as it would be if I were his/her biological mother.

Huhm … I just realized that perhaps my child would probably think the same of the love that I would have for him/her. He/She could be thinking … “Does she love me as if I were born from her womb?” Well, the answer to that is yes. As I’ve never been able to experience pregnancy, I guess I wouldn’t know the difference between loving a child that is biologically mine or loving one that was brought into our family through adoption. So my future son or daughter … I want to let you know this right now: I will love you, because … to me, you are my own child.

Damn Dis.ney … why must you always produce movies about orphaned heroes or heroines that overcome adversity. Do you purposely peer into my heart and see which one of those heart-strings (or better yet, my apron strings) to pull?!