Category: Infertile Me

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The Post Where Emily Sees "Juno"

So. I did it. I took the leap and saw “Juno.”

After my last experience with watching “Waitress,” I was very hesitant to see this movie. The thing is, other than the whole unwanted pregnancy (and the added domestic adoption piece to the film), I would have been jumping at the bit to see this movie. It just sounded so much like a movie that Hubby & I would enjoy immensely … especially after having read about the critical praise it’s been getting.

And after sitting through the film (and surviving with my emotions relatively intact), I have three words to say about it. I. Loved. It.

Sure there were moments where I bawled my eyes out like a baby. And there were times when I could feel Hubby squeezing my hand incredibly tight. And there were the moments when I caught Hubby giving me the good-old “sideways glance.” But in the grand scheme of things, the movie was just that. A movie.

To me there were two things that completely made the movie for me; the first of which was the writing. The story was just incredibly well-written – infused with the perfect balance of humor and emotion. The dialogue was smart and the story unfolded at the just the right pace. And the characters … ah, the characters! Each of them … well, except for one, in which I’ll go into more detail later … they were all well-developed with each role playing a specific purpose. (In my humble opinion, I just hate it when a character is introduced and then serves no value to the story, except maybe for eye candy.)

Now, I have to preface myself before I tell you about the second reason that I fell in love with this movie. In my mind, I find an actor is extremely talented when I lose myself in the actor’s character. For example, I love Johnny Depp. Not only do I think he’s incredibly sexy, but I respect his talent in acting. I was so excited to see him in “Sweeney Todd,” but knew that his character was not exactly “good-looking” like he was in, let’s say, “Finding Neverland.” Five minutes into the film, I lost track of the fact that “Sweeney Todd” was Johnny and was so immersed in the character. The same thing happened within the first minute of being introduced to “Juno.” Ellen Page, the actress who played Juno, was just simply astounding.

Juno is a very complex character. As Hubby put it, this was a girl who was young in her years but incredibly wise in knowing her limitations. She knew when she couldn’t handle things. She knew how to be brave when she needed to be. What sixteen year old would truly know what to do given the situations that Juno was put it? Even moreseo, what 20 year old (like Ellen Page) would? Ellen Page gave off just the right temperament for her character. And to me, she certainly is deserving of the Academy Award Nomination she’s just been given.

If there’s just one thing I would have changed in the movie, was the Vanessa Loring character, played by Jennifer Garner. She, for lack of better description, is the woman who wants to adopt Juno’s unborn baby. Throughout the movie, the character comes off as a person who is very cold. She desperately wants to have a child and is simply portrayed as having a “one-tracked” mind. There are however, two scenes in this movie that I can completely relate to Vanessa. I won’t spoil it for those of you that have yet to see the movie, but I do have to say that those two scenes were probably my most favorite of the film. Coincidentally, those were the same two scenes that I completely lost all sense of decorum.

Like I told my Hubby, I’m not sure if the reason I didn’t so much take to Jennifer Garner’s character was because I was being way too critical of her. I know what I would have done in certain circumstances and I know exactly what I would be feeling if I was in her shoes. But maybe that’s the reason why. I’m way too close to the subject matter in hand to look at it with unbiased opinion.

Hubby brought up the point that perhaps the way the character was portrayed by Jennifer Garner came more from the director’s vision of the film. That perhaps he (or she), like many others in this world, do not have a clue on the whole gamut of emotions an infertile goes through, and therefore the direction comes off as having the character played as cool, distant and controlling. (Which, of course, brought up another subject of how many other people in the world think that of us infertiles? Tyra Banks? Oprah Winfrey? The list could go on … but I digress.)

My only bone of contention is that I wish the movie delved deeper into the character of Vanessa Loring. I wish the film could have shown the rest of the world what it was like to want a child so badly. But in truth, this movie isn’t about infertility. And to me, this story isn’t even necessarily about teenage pregnancy.

This is a story of an incredibly wise, smart and quirky teen called Juno. And that’s what makes it a movie worth watching.

Okay, so now I’m off to download the soundtrack for the movie on iTunes …

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Scrambled, Over-Easy, or Sunny-Side Up?

Is it strange that I find the whole “Eggs-In-One-Basket” idiom rather humorous, given the whole infertility situation? I mean, seriously. I think, and correct me if I’m wrong here, that most women going through infertility have this tendency to literally put all their eggs in a “basket”. We have to find a way to put our “trusty” (or not so trusty) eggs in front of the male counterpart in order to procreate. But we all know that’s not as easy as it seems. Hubby & I have been trying for ten-plus years and it’s pretty evident that I haven’t replaced the basket with a bassinet.

So where am I going with this post?

Hubby & I had an interesting conversation about personality traits a little over a month ago. We happened to be discussing international vs. domestic adoption and I happened to bring up some worries I had about domestic adoption. It was about how I was afraid that perhaps we wouldn’t be readily chosen by a birth mother as I couldn’t think of one instance where a couple who are both of Asian-descent were able to adopt domestically. (Okay, seriously. That’s a valid fear, isn’t it?! Help … I need some reassurance that I’m not being silly in thinking this.) Then I doubled back and said, “I know, I’m just being pessimistic again.”

Hubby responded saying that I wasn’t necessarily a pessimistic person. Rather I was a “put all your eggs in one basket“-type of person. In other words, when I have this idea in my mind … I go at it at full-force, no turning back.

And when I look back at my life, I can’t say that Hubby’s assessment of me is completely wrong. I used to think I was a pretty laid back person, who would exhibit a few Type-A personality traits given certain situations (school or work projects, etc). But I think that by getting on the infertility roller coaster, I became more of that person that Hubby described.

To tell you the truth, I don’t think I could have avoided becoming that type of person who places all my hopes and fears on a single idea or plan. In this case, it’s in starting our family and raising children. How could I not be this way, given the monthly reminder and disappointment of yet another failed cycle? Now, others not going through infertility issues might respond to that by saying, “Well then, don’t get your hopes up too high.”

In which I’d respond back to that by saying, “Would you tell a someone who has been diagnosed with cancer that?” It’s not that simple. That is, not getting my hopes up. Or in this case, not placing all my eggs in a basket for whatever my next plan of action is. It’s a way to pick myself up after each disappointment … a way to move on.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, placing all my fears in one single plan or idea can be debilitating. And I know that’s the part that my Hubby was getting at during that conversation. If I kept thinking that the idea of domestic adoption was not going to work, then I wasn’t going to even TRY to make it work.

What I need to do is somehow find a way to find a bit of balance in my thinking. Find a way to be optimistic, yet cautious. Find a way to be hopeful, yet guarded. Find a way to put some eggs in the basket, and leave some eggs to grow so that other plans or ideas might hatch at a later date.

Now, why am I suddenly craving Cracker Barrel breakfast?

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"Exit Game or Continue?"

The news of my SIL’s latest pregnancy had got me thinking about second chances. Not that becoming pregnant four months after Liam passed away is anything but a “second chance.” I mean, I know that no one or nothing is ever going to replace the love that she has for Liam. But I do have to say, she is very lucky to be able to have another child. And she is truly blessed to be given an opportunity to “reset” her course in life. I truly hope and pray that this pregnancy is much more smoother than her pregnancy with Liam.

I just wish that with infertility, there was also a way to have some sort of “second chance.” Sure, there is always the ability to go through more procedures and take more medications in order to assist with procreation. But that isn’t my point. I wish there was a way that I could clear out my tubes, fluff up my uterus, and pump up my ovaries … all at the touch of a button. Kinda like a reset button on any game system like the Nintendo Wii or Playstation.

But it doesn’t work like that, does it? It’s not that simple. With going through any ART (assisted reproductive therapy), it’s a matter of deliberation & discussion, finances and timing. What’s the best procedure out there for you? Can you afford to do any of these procedures (as many states still do not mandate insurance companies to pay for certain ART procedures)? Where are you at during this time in your life … in other words, can you afford to take the time off from work to follow the strict regimen and timing of your cycles?

And let’s not even get into the discussion of adoption … okay, well yeah … I guess I will because that, too, requires a lot of deliberation, discussion and finances.

I can tell you from my current emotional status of taking baby steps towards adoption that it’s overwhelming. International vs. Domestic? Both of them are very different types of programs with different set of rules. International programs include so many different countries with so many different government regulations. Domestic adoptions have their own separate nuances: open vs. semi-open? Or basically, how involved do you want the birth family to be with your child? Then of course, there’s always the thought that maybe the birth parents might change their minds. Either way, it’s incredibly terrifying to me to think of how much scrutiny that Hubby & I will be under with whichever program we decide on.

Really, I guess with the whole adoption thing (since I know that this is my next step), I wish there was a way to NOT go through the whole Home Study portion of it. My cultural background as as Asian-American has always leaned towards being more of a private person. We’re not apt to open up so quickly in front of complete strangers. (Now, on line or blogging … different story, for me anyway.) I know the logical reason WHY this needs to be done; it’s obviously for the protection of the prospective child that we might adopt. But then the one thought that keeps running in my mind is that if I was pregnant with my OWN biological child, I wouldn’t be under such scrutiny. That’s when I REALLY wish I could hit that reset button.

So given all that’s involved and all that I have been through with ART, I have to say I am actually pretty amazed I chose to “Continue” on this crazy infertility game rather than choosing to “Exit” or quit. I just hope I continue to have the energy to keep moving forward.

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Is It Cold? Or Is It Just Me?

I picked up this nervous habit over the last year. At first I thought it may have been a side effect of one of the new medications I started, but then I realized that I would only do it when I was feeling anxious. I’ve actually learned to take that habit as a sign of when I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. When it does happen, I’ve learned to pause for a few seconds to take a deep breath and calm myself down. But since our first trip to Virginia Beach just before New Year’s Eve, I feel like my jaw has been “shivering” uncontrollably.

Yes, that’s right. We made two trips to Virginia Beach in the span of two weeks to visit my husband’s family. Unfortunately, the second trip was not a completely happy one, as my husband’s grandmother (Nanay) passed away. It was great to see all the family gather together, but it was rather difficult to get through those days.

During the 12-hour car rides to and from Virginia Beach, I managed to start on a crochet project for a coworker. She had asked me to make a hat and bootie set for a friend of hers who was expecting. And since I was on a roll with making all those premie caps at the time, I told her it would be no problem. And I do have to say that the finished product looked absolutely adorable.

Crocheted Hat & Bootie Set

I showed my husband my little creations the evening I finished them, proud of having tackled another pattern (the booties) that I’ve never done before. What I ended up seeing was this sad expression on his face. And the thing is, I knew exactly what he was thinking. That’s because earlier in the day I found out that the latest celebrity news included yet another celebrity pregnancy … this time it was that Matthew McConnaughy and his girlfriend were expecting and Matt was quoted as being “stoked.”

Of course the first thing I thought of when I heard that news was “Why-oh-why must I yet be tortured by another celebrity flaunting the fact that they can procreate while Hubby & I can’t?” But then I kinda delved deeper into that thought and was imagining what my hubby might think when he heard that “Naked-pot-smoking-bongo-playing” man was going to be a father. I knew what I was feeling – that it wasn’t fair and that I knew my husband would be an excellent father. I’ve known that ever since we first started dating because of how he was with his younger cousins, Mark & Mary. Watching him throughout the years interact with our nephew, Tyler, has been incredible. He has so much patience and love that it seems like such a damn waste that he can’t use those same qualities on our own child. And what about the whole biological aspect of it? How was it like for him to know that he wouldn’t be able to pass his genes on? Or even his name (he’s a “Junior”)? I imagined him going through all these different emotions, doubly intense now … especially since his grandmother had just passed on.

So as I saw my husband’s sad expression that evening, I did the best I could by curling up next to him on our couch, listening to what he had to say. While he played with the tiny booties I crocheted, he said how those little booties made him sad that we didn’t have our own child. And how strong he thought I was for making them, as he didn’t know if he would be able to do the same thing for someone else. And how he wished that I could make it for our own child.

Hubby & Our
Cousin’s Daughter, Eva

He went on to explain that he felt that he wasn’t getting any younger and that he wished that we were already parents. He also mentioned that with his health problems (along with mine) he was concerned over his own mortality. And that it was probably because of Nanay’s death that he was feeling so sad. Since hubby doesn’t readily talk about how he felt about our situation, at that moment I wished SO BADLY that I could make him feel better. And that we could change our situation immediately. If I could have snatched any baby off the street at that moment then I would have just to give my husband the ability to be a parent.

As it was, that same night we got a phone call from one of best friends who’s wedding we attended last July in Portland, OR. He’s an incredibly wonderful friend who has always been there for us whenever we just needed to vent and to talk. He’s the same guy who would bend over backwards to help us out if we were ever in a pinch. And he was calling to let us know that him and his wife were expecting.

How’s that for timing?

If those two events in our life weren’t unexpected enough, then the news that my SIL was pregnant was definitely a shocker. Although I do confess, I saw this one coming. It wasn’t like the subject of having more children didn’t come up after Liam passed away this past September. I guess I just didn’t think it would happen … I don’t know … so soon. But then again, my SIL has always been fertile.

All the tell-tale signs were there. One event, in particular got me thinking about her. It started out with a conversation I had with my SIL just after New Year’s Day. I told my SIL that I was a little worried about her; because during the holidays, she seemed really tired all the time and appeared withdrawn from the rest of the family. When we asked her to go with us to take our cousins from Toronto bowling, she kindly declined saying that she wasn’t feeling too well. What I initially thought was that she was down in the dumps; especially since this would be the first major holidays without Liam. And I knew how messed up my emotions were during the previous Christmas. I just wanted to let her know that I was there for her if she needed me. What I was told then was that she was okay, and that she would tell me what was going on in “due time.” I remember thinking at that exact moment, “She’s pregnant.” And in fact, later on that evening as I was relaying to Hubby our conversation I told him the same thing, that I thought his sister was pregnant. I just had THAT strong of a feeling.

Anyway, my SIL and her husband sent a card to our house that arrived this past Friday which announced their news. It was a beautiful card that said that she wanted us to be the first to know as she knew how difficult the news of her last pregnancy affected me. I truly appreciate the effort that she put into the card and into the note that she had written inside of it, because it just showed me how much she truly cared about the sensitive nature of this topic.

Hubby & Our Godson, Jacob

Of course, that didn’t stop me from saying to Hubby (in true Catherine Z-Jones in “High Fidelity”-fashion), “I knew it” over and over again. Nor did it stop my jaw from shivering uncontrollably that evening. Nor did it stop the tears from flowing later on that night (damn … couldn’t deep-breathe enough to calm myself down). But that’s okay, because I know now what I didn’t know just over a year ago last November. And that is that I am allowed to feel sadness for myself and for my husband. And I’m going to allow myself to feel whatever I want (sadness, anger, guilt, etc) for as long as I want. But I’m NOT going to let it take over my entire emotional being.

So while Hubby & I are extremely happy for his sister and our “West-coast” friends (and even my HS friend who is also due this year), I think that the recent passing of Nanay has got us both thinking of our mortality … and even our legacy. What ARE we going to leave behind for others? Who will we be able to pass our legacies on to when we die? We’re both not getting any younger and I admit that I’m terrified that the life I have been given has been utterly futile. Especially since I’m infertile and all that I’ve ever wanted was to be a good role-model, a parent to a child who I would be able to pass my lifeline on to.

So … with that said, the time has come for Hubby & me to start moving forward. SMALL “baby” steps forward (why does that phrase strike me as rather funny, right now?), may I say. We’ve talked about adoption being our next step. We know it’s the only next step. We’ve done a little research in the past and, quite honestly I think I was too overwhelmed with everything to fully process. So now, I’ve got to start up that research again. And maybe look into other options such as domestic adoption. I’m downright terrified to move forward, but I know that for our sake … I must.

And maybe … just maybe … I can get this damn jaw to stop shivering.

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"PS I Love You" … and Other Emotions

I love the book, “PS I Love You” by Cecilia Ahern. I picked it up used at the local B&N a few years ago, just in time to bring it with me to our trip to Seattle. And as I was sitting on the plane reading the book, I would need to dig through my purse just to find a napkin or a piece of tissue paper just to wipe all the fallen tears. It was THAT good of a book for me.

When I found out that they were making the book into a movie … let alone starring Hilary Swank, playing the lead character, Holly Kennedy … I had my apprehensions. First of all, the book was supposed to be based in Ireland and yet the movie is in NYC. Second, it was starring Hilary Swank. Don’t get me wrong … she’s awesome in any of her Academy Award performances, but I just didn’t see her playing Holly.

What got me to the theater instead, was them darn trailers. That and seeing that not only Denny (from Grey’s Anatomy) was in it, but Gerard Butler (King Leonides from “300”) was playing the husband. Yum. (Yes, along with Johnny Depp … I have a sick fascination for certain celebs.)

One weekend, I dragged Hubby to the theater to see it. And honestly, although there are parts of the movie that aggrevated me, I did like the movie. It certainly does not follow the plot exactly to the specifications of the book (I mean, really … what book-to-film movie ever does …), but it highlights much of the same core emotions that got me in the book. There’s one scene in particular that totally got me. It’s one of those rare situations where seeing it on film right in front of you is ten times better than reading the book.

(If you’re wanting to see the movie and/or read the book, I suggest you skip the next two paragraph.)

*
 At this point in the movie, Holly is on a weekend trip with her girlfriends, all set up and paid for by her husband prior to his death. Her one friend just confessed that she was finally getting married. Her other friend also confesses that she’s (finally) pregnant. The look on Holly’s face said it all. While she was happy for them, she couldn’t help but be sad for herself. Then after the initial “Yay! We’re so excited about the news in our lives!” the subject was suddenly and akwardly dropped.

What’s more is later, Holly overhears her friends in the other room still overly excited about each other’s announcement and hears them planning for the next stage in their lives. It was nonstop chatter, while Holly stood there just looking utterly sad and alone.

*

At that point in the movie, I just completely lost it. Tears were streaming down my face while Hubby held me tight. I turned to him at that point and said, “I know exactly how she feels.”

And I totally did. It’s that feeling of emptiness inside of me. That black hole that some days I think will never be filled up. And in certain circumstances, the more happiness other people have in their lives, the deeper I feel like climbing into that big black abyss and just not resurfacing until all the excitement dies down.

It’s not because I’m being selfish (as later on in the movie, it was pointed out to Holly that she acting that way … pissed me off, too. Grrr …) or that I’m not happy for the other person. It’s not even jealousy that drives me to feel that way. It’s the feeling that I should be able to have some of that happiness too. That I’m entitled to have those type of exciting moments in my life as well.

Yes, I can hear people say … “Well, you can’t just expect happiness to happen. You have to make those moments happen for yourself.” And that’s where I say to that person, “What makes you think that I haven’t tried?”

I have put myself through everything possible to become pregnant with my Hubby & my biological child. I have had enough procedures to “clear” me out to last me a lifetime. I have suffered through months of poking myself with needles to help create the “optimum conditions” to impregnate me. I have dealt with month after month after years of hope at the beginning of my cycle followed by failure at the end of my cycle. I suffered the ultimate blow with my one failed attempt at IVF. I feel I have spent enough time and money and emotions of trying to get to that happiness. And yet here I am, barren and still childless.

So don’t tell me that I haven’t tried to create that biological child of mine … that exciting moment I’ve been wanting for the past ten-plus years. And don’t tell me that I’m being selfish for feeling as angry as I do at those times. And please please PLEASE don’t say to me, “Well, you could always adopt.” The truth is, we are looking into that option, but I still need to grieve the fact that I cannot produce my own biological child. And I will never know what it’s like to be pregnant. And I will never know what it’s like to breast-feed. The fact that I won’t be able to even announce to our family and friends that Hubby & I are pregnant is enough to grieve.

So please allow me have those moments of sadness and anger about my childless situation. And please, even though I find it difficult to talk about … push me to do so. Because, while it’s ten times easier to write or blog about it, sometimes having the physical human touch behind it makes me feel less alone and more loved.

PS Thanks for letting me vent.