Eesh. I’m frickin’ exhausted. I woke up this morning with the intent of going into work ahead of the rest of my staff, so I could pick up a big Box O’Joe and sweets from Dunkin’ Donuts for all of us. Yeah, something about almost falling asleep during dinner last night should have clued me in.
So when the alarm clock went off this morning, I could barely drag myself out of bed. But alas, I managed to do my usual morning routine for a working weekday … for the sixth day in a row.
Nope. Not bitter at all that I had to go in to work today. Not at all.
Except … Well, I really don’t mind working at alternate hours. Truth be told, I do better and manage things better without a constant routine. I like working “alternative” hours instead of the typical 9-to-5, Monday thru Friday -type of day. I’d rather be doing my work on my own schedule; which could be on a Saturday. At 7 o’clock. In the evening. I’m just more productive that way.
Which, when I reflect on my whole “baby-making” years and the minute-by-minute schedule we had to follow, is rather twisted. Especially since I was never ever able to “produce” anything (or rather any ONE) during those active IF treatment years.
And now that I’m finally in a place to understand a little bit more of the real Emily, it all begins to make sense. Why I was *so* miserable during that time; why I felt I had little control over my body, let alone my life.
And it’s all because I absolutely HATE being TIED to a schedule. To a DESK.
Hmm. Maybe I need to find another line of work … professional beach comber perhaps?
I admit it. I’m a TV junkie. Maybe it’s because I spend most of the winter evenings indoors; especially since I’m still not used to it being so dark by 5 pm here in Chicago. Or it could also be that I find myself having little energy after a non-stop busy day at work. Either way, I tend to find myself in front of the proverbial “Boob Tube” by 7 pm each evening.*
It’s also a horrible thing … this new fan-dangled device called a DVR. Because now, not only can I watch one TV series I keep up with, but I can record a second TV series that I also follow … even though they air at the same time. I seriously think I need to stop picking up new TV series and focus only on the ones I watch right now … at least until something else catches my eye.
Tonight’s line up involved recording “Fringe” on FOX while watching “Supernatural” on The CW. (Oh, did I forget to tell you I *love* watching “paranormal”-type of shows? I blame Mulder and Scully back in the early-to-late 90’s.)
For those that aren’t familiar with “Supernatural,” it’s not a show about Carlos Santana’s Grammy Award-winning album. It’s a show about two brothers who basically “hunt” demons and other paranormal figures. The ongoing story arc is that these two brothers, as dedicated as they are to each other, are supposedly destined to destroy one another. Because, and follow along with me here, the younger brother’s soul was “sold” to Lucifer (aka the Devil) before he (Sam) was even born. While the older brother (Dean), who has basically been raised to kill demons his entire life, is supposed to stop Lucifer from taking over Sam’s body in order to take over the world. What gets even more tricky is that Dean has been told that he is supposed to allow the Archangel, Michael, to take over his body in order to stop Lucifer from destroying earth (aka the Apocolypse).
Following me thus far? Okay, so moving on …
For those of you that are familiar with the Heaven and Hell, Angels and Demons lore (and no, I’m not talking about Dan Brown’s novel here) … you’d know that Lucifer is actually a “fallen” angel, and is actually the younger brother to Michael. So the whole “brother pitted against brother” aspect of this TV show’s storyline is pretty darn cool (in my humble opinion, anyway).
So in tonight’s episode there is this whole bit about free will and destiny. While both Dean and Sam have been told it’s in their “destiny” to start the Apocolypse, both brother’s have promised that they would do everything in their power to allow that from happening. Sam would consciously avoid being lead into Lucifer’s “temptations,” while Dean would vehemently oppose Michael from taking a human form in his body.**
But as Dean tells the Archangel Michael this, Michael tells him that there is no such thing as “Free Will” in life; that every little inconsequential decision and path in life will eventually lead him and his brother down the ultimate road that they’ve been fated to. I think the actual phrase Michael used was, “Free will is an illusion.”
Huh ... I kinda like this quote!
Yet in spite of what Dean has been told, he still refuses to allow what “fate” has supposedly lined up for him; he still chooses to live his life on his own free will. Which … of course, makes him a hero in my eyes. Well, at least in the TV show.
Afterwards (as in right now, as I type) I reflected on the whole Free Will vs. Fate and how it pertains to my Infertility journey; how it pertains to my life. (And, yep! This is how this post relates to the whole “Ties” theme for NaBloPoMo.)
The idea of Free Will vs. Fate specifically makes me question if my journey down the road of infertility been destined all along. And if that’s the case, does this mean my decision (or “free will”) to live child-free after IF is just an illusion? A farce?
Not that I’m questioning the decision that Hubby & I have made … I know that living child-free after IF is what’s in our best interest at this very moment. No … it’s more the question of: “If that’s the case, why did we put ourselves through H*ll and back just to end up where we were ‘supposed’ to end up?”
I suppose I could always put forth the standard answer that our IF experience isn’t about the “outcome” but rather what Hubby & I have learned about each other and ourselves along the way. And, to a point, I can be satisfied with that response.
But then there’s that part of me that wholly believes that life (and particularly an American life) is all about the choices we make in life; the decision and subsequent consequences that follow. It’s that same part of me that believes that every aspect in life is about consciously making the “choices” that we believe are the best ones for us at that given moment … That, despite the times in which we all feel backed into a corner, we all have the ability as human beings to make choices.
So maybe there isn’t a black and white for Free Will & Fate. Maybe life is more of a hybrid of both. Perhaps life really is about the choices we make … which, in turn, determines the ultimate outcome of our destiny.
Either way, after watching this episode of “Supernatural,” I suddenly have this incredible urge to pick up a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book …
What about you, Blogland? What are your thoughts about Free Will and Fate?
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* See? That’s another thing I’m still not used to here in CST: Prime Time TV starting at 7 pm.
** Apparently angels must have your full consent in order to enter your body. Who knew?
Not quite the "suprised" look I was looking for in my batch of pics ...
Wow. Oh, wow! I woke up to a great suprise this morning.
Well, okay … technically I was at work where I should have been updating all my staff’s databases for 2010* … but yeah. Instead I was tweaking some stuff on my blog.
Which, by the way. Like the new look? I figured it was time to shake it up a little, as it’s been about two years since I’ve changed my look. (Really, I’d love to do my own little design … but yeah, that would mean the cheapskate in me would have to shell out moolah.)
ANYHOO ... As I was saying, I was on my blog do some admin stuff when I noticed a particular person’s <clears throat>Mel<cough> website URL kept popping up on my “Referrers” section. So imagine my suprise when I found out some WONDERFUL person wrote a little ditty about how much my blog inspires them.
Wow. That just totally blew me away. I feel like I should be standing up behind the magic mike stand (you know, the one that disappears once the person is done speaking?) to thank the entire blogoverse for allowing me to write as freely as I do. And specifically to thank everyone for actually reading my words.
Oh, and did I mention this was all done anonymously?! So … seriously, *THANK YOU* to whomever wrote such beautiful words about me. You honestly don’t know how much it means to me …
The "Stirrups Queen" herself (with the Tiara) along with me, Io and Aunt Becky (left to right) at BlogHer 2009
Anyway, for those of you that aren’t familiar with Mel from Stirrup Queens … she is one of the ALI (Adoption, Loss and Infertility) community’s biggest chieftans. She is *the* person who has managed to organize the lot of us ALI bloggers under one roof … and she’s typically the one who puts the “shout out” to all of us when one of us in need of good support. That’s why it’s perfect that she used to blog under the name “The Town Criers.”
Okay … so yeah, getting sidetracked here again. But I thought it’s very important for those that may stumble onto my site for a variety of reasons to know where to find a comprehensive list of resources for Adoption, Loss and Infertility.
HOWEVER … I *am* finally getting to the point of this post and how it ties (ba-dum-dum) into February’s NaBloPoMo theme. And it’s this …
One of the reasons I started blogging about my Infertility journey was because I felt extremely alone. I felt that there was no one in my immediate surroundings that would even begin to understand what I was going through. Throw in the fact that I’m Filipino-American, where being a mother is seen as a woman’s main purpose in life and where infertility or loss isn’t ever talked about amongst even the closest of close family members … well, yeah. Let’s just say that, other than my Hubby, I didn’t feel as if I had any support AT ALL.
Visiting Kara in La Jolla, Aug 2008
But as I began to peruse through other IF-er’s blogs, I began to feel less alone … less isolated. And stumbling onto Mel’s blogroll? Well yeah, I totally hit the jackpot.
From there I managed to find a bunch of other bloggers that have since become closer to me in the blogoverse than some of my IRL friends. I’m sure that part of the reason is the vast internet space that separates us; which, in turn, allows us to be more open and honest to each other than those who might even live under the same roof.
So how does this relate back to the whole “Ties” theme for NaBloPoMo? It’s simple.
Sometimes there is one common thread that ties one complete stranger to another one. In my world … specifically my Blog World … it’s my infertility. And now, as I travel down a new path … it’s my decision to live with my husband child-free after infertility.
Again … thank you Miss (or Mister?) Anonymous for such lovely words. Sometimes it’s those little suprises in life that keep propelling me forward … especially in my quest to find the next grand adventure in my life.
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*What can I say? I’m a month behind? And isn’t that the story of my life?!
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.
Eesh. I’m frickin’ exhausted. I woke up this morning with the intent of going into work ahead of the rest of my staff, so I could pick up a big Box O’Joe and sweets from Dunkin’ Donuts for all of us. Yeah, something about almost falling asleep during dinner last night should have clued me in.
Which, when I reflect on my whole “baby-making” years and the minute-by-minute schedule we had to follow, is rather twisted. Especially since I was never ever able to “produce” anything (or rather any ONE) during those active IF treatment years.
For those that aren’t familiar with “Supernatural,” it’s not a show about Carlos Santana’s Grammy Award-winning album. It’s a show about two brothers who basically “hunt” demons and other paranormal figures. The ongoing story arc is that these two brothers, as dedicated as they are to each other, are supposedly destined to destroy one another. Because, and follow along with me here, the younger brother’s soul was “sold” to Lucifer (aka the Devil) before he (Sam) was even born. While the older brother (Dean), who has basically been raised to kill demons his entire life, is supposed to stop Lucifer from taking over Sam’s body in order to take over the world. What gets even more tricky is that Dean has been told that he is supposed to allow the Archangel, Michael, to take over his body in order to stop Lucifer from destroying earth (aka the Apocolypse).
