Category: Infertility

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On Being There …

I woke up about 4:30 this morning to the sound of my “puppy” needing a potty break. And because of that, I wasn’t able to get back to sleep right away. So instead, I fired up my laptop and started playing catch-up with blog-reading. It was at that early hour that I read this excellent post from Mrs. Spit.

Now, Mrs. Spit, I hope you don’t mind me saying … but that post had me desperately trying to hold back the tears. For it’s that silent communication that I’ve been searching for in my life. That feeling of knowing that someone … anyone … close by in proximity would (directly) acknowledge the hurt and that pain that I felt. And someone would realize how hard it was on some days to just get through certain moments, certain snippets in time.

Yesterday, being Halloween, was one of those snippets in time. Particularly made worse by the fact that it’s a very child-centric holiday. For obvious reasons, our yearly ritual of walking around trick-or-treating with our nephew was suspended. Understandably so, as the events of this past two months have put such a huge strain on the current relationship status with his family.

But that’s neither here nor there. And this is not another post about those issues. This is a post of what happens when someone finally made that connection with me. Today. This morning, in fact. And as I write about it now, the tears can’t help but spring back up again. Because this is what I get for trying to hold them back earlier this morning.

Simply said … there is nothing … nothing better than having your fears and your hurt and your pain directly acknowledged. Nothing better than having someone validate that what I’m feeling is real. Nothing better than having someone understand how hard it is to be and to act in my situation.

Nothing better than having someone physically say these things to you. And mean it.

And you know in your heart and your mind that she does. Because, although she will soon join the ranks of motherhood, she’s been there, too.

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Political Non-Pundit

I am no political expert.

In fact, I’m probably furthest from that. However, I do like to keep myself pretty well informed. Especially because Election Day is now less than a week away. And seeing as this was one h*ll of a presidential campaign run, it’s hard not to want to be well-informed.

(Sidenote: It’s times like this, that I reaaallly miss Tim Russert. He just had an excellent way of explaining politics that made it fascinating. Election night coverage will not be the same without him …)

Anyways, I strongly believe in the right to vote. After all, democracy (and, a-hem … not free market) is what this country was founded on. And while I agree that campaigning is needed in order to promote a candidate’s platform, I don’t agree when someone tries to tell you how to vote. That, of course, does not mean that people aren’t allowed to debate with each other about who they support or don’t support a particular candidate.

Anybody notice how McCain & Palin are both in the same size font ...

Let me reiterate that one more time. I don’t agree when someone tries to tell you how to vote.

And why am I bringing this up now? Well of course, it’s because I have a story to tell.

Last Tuesday I dropped my parents off at the airport. They were on their way to Turkey and Greece to participate on a tour based on the travels of St. Paul. (Uh huh … you probably already know where this is going.) Because my car has been acting up, I suggested that we take their car to the airport. That way they could pack the car while waiting for me to drive over to their house.

So the drive to the airport was a smooth ride. So smooth that I considered “borrowing” their car for the two weeks they would be away. Never mind that she had a rosary (and a Franciscan Tau) hanging off her rear view mirror … I would have totally “borrowed” it for a couple weeks. The conversation was light. As we just got back from my cousin’s wedding, we talked about how great it was to be in the same room with everyone again.

It wasn’t until we got to the airport curb where the main part of my story takes place. As we were pulling out their luggage from the trunk, I glanced down at the bumper sticker that she’s had on her bumper forever (“Love a Franciscan: 2B1 Ask 1″) and chuckled like I always did when I spotted it. (As I’ve said in the past, my mom is very strong in her Catholic faith.) But then I glanced to the right of that sticker and saw a “Vote No on Proposal 2” bumper sticker. (More on Prop 2 in a bit.)

After helping them unload their luggage, I turned to give Dad a hug and kiss. And as I lean in to give my mom her hug, she pushes my hair off my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Don’t forget to vote for McCain. And don’t forget to vote No on 2.” In which I promptly kissed her on her cheek and wished her a safe and fun trip. I briefly shook my head afterwards and thought, “Yup, should have seen that coming.”

For those of you that aren’t familiar, Michigan’s Prop 2 is a proposal to allow for embryonic stem cell research within the state. In the past, my mom and I have had conversations about stem cell research. My mom, of course being a devout Catholic does not support any type of stem cell research (and yes, of course she’s a “Right to Life” person as well).

And myself? Well the truth is, I’m still trying to determine how I feel about it; which is exactly what I told her. And that’s because of my own personal experience with our one and only IVF cycle and the one lone blastocyte that was left for us to freeze (to see what happened to that one embie … click here).

... While Obama is clearly larger (and in a more prominent color) than Biden?
... while Obama is clearly larger (and in a more prominent color) than Biden?

However, after that little bit at the airport … I felt myself fighting off every urge to vote Yes, just to cancel out her vote. But I won’t do that. I will make an informed, unbiased decision before November 4th. And I will make it based on my own opinions.

And I won’t let her (or anyone else, for that matter) know how I voted either.

Because while I support the need to campaign and to rally for whatever (or whomever) you’re voting on (or for) … and while I don’t hold anything against those that openly show how (or who) they’re voting … I personally believe that my vote is confidential.

The important thing is that everyone should go out and vote. For no other reason than BECAUSE YOU CAN.

As for whether or not I decided to “borrow” the car for a couple weeks … well, as you can guess, I decided against it. The icing on the cake was when I had no choice but to head straight to my doctor’s appointment after being stuck in the mid-morning rush hour traffic.

Which doctor and for which appointment, you might ask? Well, of all things … it was my first appointment with my new OB/Gyn.

Uh, so yeah. I hid the car at the back of the lot. I so didn’t feel like getting into it with any person who may be for or against Proposal 2.

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(Not so) Serious Rants

Pictures from Football Saturday

Well, I can’t believe the last week of October is already here. It seems like just yesterday that it was Labor Day weekend and Hubby & I were celebrating our 12th wedding anniversary.

And even though the past two months felt like they’ve flown by … when going over the blog posts I’ve written during this time period, it feels as if the end of August was a lifetime away.

Yes, I did not deal with certain events during this interval very well. And to some extent I’m still not doing so hot. But I think I’ve come to the decision that there isn’t much more I can do that would make things any better or any worse for me at this moment. As my Hubby is so fond of saying, “It is what it is.” In other words, accept it and move on.

This coming Saturday will include a family function that … I’ll be honest … I’m a little apprehensive to attend. However, I will do so only for the love of these children and for the love of family. I’m not exactly sure how the rest of the family will treat me, but I will make the effort to be on my best behavior. I have a feeling I will be full of anxiety for the duration we are there, but perhaps the little white magic pill I’ll take before heading out the door will help. Thank G*d for modern chemistry.

In addition, I’m already expecting work to be extremely busy this week. (Okay, so when is it not busy?!) The Process Improvement group I’m part of is presenting it’s results from our first session to the big-wig execs tomorrow, which means that I should find something other than jeans to wear to work. And yes, I am lucky enough to work for a company that sees the value in promoting casual work wear (which includes jeans, in our case). And I think it’s great as a Health Insurance Company, that they did this to help promote exercise, activity and overall healthy living. But crap … I haven’t worn “business-wear” in years. Not since the days of being a “stupor-visor.” Do I even fit into any of it? Somehow methinks not.

Anyway …

This past Saturday, Hubby & I spent the day in Ann Arbor doing a very typical Midwestern-y Fall Activity. Well typical for those that enjoy watching sports. We spent the day watching the annual “Battle for the State” game; the University of Michigan vs. Michigan State football game at the Big House. We were expecting it to be a very cold and wet day, but the weather gods apparently decided to be kind to us instead. Unfortunately the sports gods weren’t too kind to my team, as we lost. It was an exciting game, nonetheless.

Oh, and I just happened to snap a picture of this:


Yep, that’s right some of the University of Michigan students supporting “Oba-den” (uh-huh … I like combining words).

It’s seeing those things that remind me why I enjoyed college life so much. Those were the days where I felt I could make some sort of difference in the world. The days where I felt invincible. Not that I’m not contributing to society and making a difference in this world right now … I think I find myself more invisible these days than invincible. In any case … the picture ROCKS! And I’m so surprised that there weren’t too many “McPalin” supporters at the game; especially because I have this image of the rich, older U of M alumni being more Republican than Democratic.

Anyway (as I continue to babble), on the 40-some minute drive to Ann Arbor (and afterwards, as we were stuck in post-game traffic), Hubby and I were listening to a couple of NPR podcasts we downloaded onto our iPod. One of the podcasts came highly recommended by a co-worker/NPR-listener/friend of mine, as it was an episode of “This American Life” that broke down the current economic crisis in terms that everyday people could understand. And while searching for that episode online, Hubby found another episode aired in May of this year and was actually the predecessor to this October episode.

The Wolverine fan in me is still trying to understand how Sparty is the most favorite mascot ...
The Wolverine fan in me is still trying to understand how Sparty is College Football's most favorite mascot

Now, I can’t claim any prior knowledge (other than what we typically hear in the daily newscasts) on exactly why our country is in such economic turmoil. However, I can tell you this. The more I listened and learned, the more I found myself getting angrier. Seriously. Nothing says “Let’s make more money off the poor so we can get richer” like listening to some of the stories told.

And the fact that none of these financial “schemes” (for lack of better word) have been regulated?! Well … it totally pisses off the RN Case Manager in me that works for a Health Insurance company where … anything and everything (in terms of dollars and cents) is scrutinized by the government. Okay, so I totally understand that regulating health care is a matter of life and death. But really (in my humble opinion), by not regulating our financial market at all … well crap! We’re letting strangers bet on our livelihoods. And when you think about it, that’s what these financial people are doing … gambling with our lives!

Okay, I will get off my high horse for now. But again, I strongly recommend you listening to these podcasts. There’s a 95 cent fee to download the podcast from the website. Or you can always listen to them free directly on the site.

Oh, and while I’m on the whole NPR thing. Here’s a little tidbit I heard on the radio this evening. Apparently there is modern version of the “New Testament” coming out tomorrow that supposedly is very “pop culture”-ish. The little bit I caught talked about having images in it like Co.ca.Co.la and Gandhi. But the best part was hearing this girl say, “Can’t have a bible without Bono!”

And with that crack of lightning (from the heavens above) … I’m “Audi 5000“!

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Oh, the Irony …

Day 3 of “Voiceless Emily.” I made the attempt to go to work today and promptly fell back into bed after taking a shower wiped me out. So today, I make the trip to my doctor’s office to hopefully get some “magic pills” to make me feel better.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I hate having to get antibiotics to get rid of a bug. I’d rather do it the old-fashioned way with lots of fluid and lots of rest. But this one … I don’t know, I just haven’t been able to “break” it just yet. And I’ve gotta be better by this weekend, as it’s my cousin’s wedding!

Thank you for those that responded yesterday to my post. Part of me knows that I’m just being stubborn and spiteful. And the other part of me knows that I’m doing this for self-preservation as well. Because if I continue to subject myself to “saving face” just to “keep the peace”, then I’d be back-pedaling in my progress towards happiness.

It’s just rather strange for me to be listening to that “other part of me,” because I feel as if that’s the selfish part of me. The one who only thinks about herself. The one who was told time and time again in her youth that it was bad to be thinking about my wants and my needs. My job … my duty, was always to think and care for others. (No wonder I became a nurse!) And I’m sure that lesson was reinforced over and over again by both the Filipino culture I was brought up in, as well as the twelve years of Catholic school.

And not that I mean to emphasize the point over and over again … but this is probably the biggest reason why it’s been so difficult for me to deal with my infertility. First … let’s not talk about my issues so as not to make you feel uncomfortable. Next, let’s take care of everyone else’s needs rather than take care of my own health. And finally, let’s just stifle all that unhappiness away and pretend that it doesn’t exist.

In any case, it took a long time for me to realize that I couldn’t continue to live this way. That my own body was telling me that I could no longer hold things in. Seriously, when your blood pressure continues to sky-rocket despite taking medications and you find yourself having a tremendously difficult time performing such simple tasks like taking a shower … and your mind is so muddled because you can’t even begin to determine what to “fix” first … well, then it’s time to seek some professional help.

So yes. I admit it (as it’s hard to do for most Asian-American’s), I broke down and called my former RE’s office and asked for a good therapist; one that had experience in dealing with infertility issues. And from that first meeting with her, I felt as if I struck gold. She has been that wonderful.

From our sessions, I’ve learned that one of the biggest things I needed to do was listen to my body. Which, of course, was hard for me to do … as throughout my IF journey, I’ve felt I’ve been betrayed by it month after month. But it’s those headaches that I frequently got that told me that my blood pressure was bordering at extreme highs. And it’s those days where my body refused to get out of bed that told me that I had stuffed waaay too many emotions inside that my body simply refused budge until I felt or expressed something.

And that’s why I began to blog. My outlet. My way to talk about the complex things and complex relationships I have going on in my life.

Duh, I can hear y’all saying … it’s not like I haven’t said this twenty zillion times before in previous posts.

But then part of me begins to wonder. Am I revealing too much? Am I expressing those feelings too intensely? Am I hurting others by writing exactly how I feel about the situations I’ve been in?

Is the proverbial pen mightier than the sword?

The reason I pose these questions is because I’ve been “asked” to refrain from blogging about certain people and certain situations I’m placed in, Which my gut instinct is to say, “F*ck you. This is MY blog. And you don’t have to read it, if you don’t like what I have to say.”

But then I began to think that maybe what I say in this blog may push things to the limits. That instead of making it easier for others to understand what I’m going through, I’m making them more uncomfortable. And hence making it more awkward for them to talk to me in real life (IRL). That I’m further isolating myself by “talking” about these things. (Of course, this pertains to IRL people and not you, my dear bloggy friends.)

Then there’s the Filipino-Catholic in me. The person who feels like she’s being self-centered and only thinking about herself in these situations … and not about how others might react to what I’ve said. That I’m hurting others by the words I write. And that I’m now sufficiently doomed to H*ll.

I have, in the past, PWP’d (password protected) a few blog entries, but have hated to do so, for reasons I’ve mentioned before in this post. I think it protects certain incidents and people involved in them; which could be good. And yet it also isolates a potential reader …. someone, who like me is looking for someone to relate to … from not feeling comfortable in asking me for a password. And while I might continue to do so in some instances, I don’t like it. It makes me feel, for lack of better words (ha!), “voiceless.”

And the irony of it all? I can’t even speak a word above a whisper right now.

What do you suppose my sick body is telling me? Is it just telling me to shut up and not “say” or blog about the emotions attached to those complex relationships and situations? Or is it telling me to ease up on myself; that I’m once again being too harsh on myself that my body, or rather my voice needs a rest?

All I know now, is that I’m seriously doubting myself … if what I do and say on my blog is helping me IRL or hurting me even more. And if I should permanently remain “voiceless.”

Help me, oh bloggy friends. What should I do?