(I guess I need to start off by saying, no … things have definitely not changed in my barren world. And don’t let the title of this post fool you. Apparently I may have “freaked” a couple people out by both the title and the picture below … LOL!)
I’m not a betting person. Which, when you think of the many trips Hubby & I have taken to Vegas, is quite humorous. All those casinos, and the most we played were slots.
I mean, I’ve played poker and blackjack in my college years; but seriously, all bets were based on pennies. Or cigarettes, depending on who you were playing with (<cough> Tim <cough>). But to place actual money that’s more than a dollar (okay, maybe $2 max for a slot machine)? Can’t see myself spending that kind of money.
My odds with these tests were never good
Which, given the odds that Hubby & I were given when we did our one cycle of IVF, makes it ironic. We were given a 51% chance that we’d be successful in our pursuit to become pregnant. We knew the odds were only 1% more on our favor. We had hoped to win this bet — a bet in which we put a boatload of money into the pot — and we lost. And I was devastated.
That’s not to say that I regret ever having done our one cycle of IVF. Because even back then I knew that this was something Hubby & I had to try in order to feel as if we tried everything in our quest to reproduce. I’m just simply saying that the results of that bet, that one IVF cycle, was enough for me to know that I could never place another bet on another IVF cycle ever again.
So yes … the next logical step would be to go for adoption, right?
Except adoption isn’t a simple thing to just “think about.” First, there’s the process of grieving the fact that I can’t have a baby. That alone is nothing simple. That process involves never being able to experience pregnancy. In my case, it involved never being able to see two pink lines in a pregnancy test. And it involves feeling as if my body’s failed, not only me and my Hubby (especially my husband), but our parents and our siblings. And our siblings children, too.
Then there’s the other part that I needed to grieve; which is outlined in more detail in this recent post. It’s grieving the fact that we will never be able to have our own biological baby. A child that we could pass our genes to. A child to pass the Filipino traditions we were taught growing up; and finding a way to blend both our American and Filipino sides together. A child to carry on my Hubby’s last name.
And while I’ve pretty much begun to resolve those grief issues, there’s still that lack of strength that I feel I need in order to go through the entire adoption process. Because it takes someone who really has enough strength to climb over the proverbial brick wall getting in the way of having a child. And specifically, I’m talking about all the rules and regulations and investigations into your private lives just to raise a child that is not biologically your own. Quite frankly, I know that I don’t have what it takes to go through that.
Recently, the New York Times wrote an article about a new reality series that TLC began airing strictly on their website. “A Conception Story,” a Web-only show follows the lives of 6 women as they try to conceive over the next seven months. Which, seeing that this is the same network that airs “A Wedding Story” and “A Baby Story,” makes perfect sense.
Meet Kristen, one of the six women in "A Conception Story"
I mean really … what better way to bridge the “gap” between the Wedding Planning and the arrival of a newborn baby by filming a show about Family Planning?
No. Really … I’m not being sarcastic. Even though at first I was hesitant to watch the show, I must admit that curiosity got the best of me. While it’s currently just wrapped up it’s second month of video entries, I’m actually invested in watching these six women’s stories.
For those that were as skeptical (or perhaps jaded?) about watching ecstatic BFP (“big fat positive” … as in a positive pregnancy test) announcements via the web, I’ll spare you the heartache to let you know, as of today, there has been only one person who saw the two pink lines thus far. And it’s a couple that had been been trying to conceive for close to three years.
Which is another thing. Out of the six couples we’re initially introduced to, half of them have been experiencing difficulty trying to conceive. The others that are just “starting” their quest to have a baby (or add another one to their family); well, it would appear that they, too, may be finding out that getting pregnant isn’t quite as easy as the rest of the world makes it seem to be. Or as easy as the proverbial “birds and bees” theory that we were taught in school.
Speaking of the birds and the bees …
About two weeks ago, I stumbled on another article in an Austin** newspaper. It’s this article that led me to this website and the humorous, but spot-on videos about a Bird and a Bee dealing with infertility. If you haven’t watched them, I urge you to do so, if only to empathize with what any infertile couple can encounter.
Both “A Conception Story” and the “Increase Your Chances” vignettes (also spotlighted in this article in Salon, an award-winning online news and entertainment Web site) are probably one of the first real advertisements highlighting the difficulties in trying to conceive.
The Bird and the Bee
And when I say “advertisements” in relationship to the TLC story, I do mean advertisement. Because although the stories being told in “A Conception Story” are in “real time” (as evidenced by the journals that these women write for the show), the whole she-bang is sponsored by First Response, whose products focus on all aspects of pregnancy planning. And it’s quite evident the moment you click on the TLC website for the show, that they’ve invested a lot of money into advertising their products.
But getting back to these advertising campaigns, it’s quite refreshing to know that there are companies*** out there that are willing to go that in-depth with the emotional side of infertility. Because, face it: thus far, any advertisements for infertility I’ve heard were for Infertility Clinics or Hospital Networks. And it’s typically only a 30- to 60-second spot.
Yeah; that’ll never be enough time to go into depth about the multiple layers of Infertility.
As happy as I am about Infertility getting its fair share of air time, it’s sad to see that other people still may not empathize with what an infertile couple go through both physically and emotionally. All you have to do is look at some of the comments made in regards to such articles that brought these ads to the forefront.
One person commented:
Couldn’t it be that if you can’t get pregnant on your own that it means that god didn’t want you to have kids?
[Duh. Don’t think that I haven’t already thought about that. And oh, by the way … I believe if we’re talking about one G*d, I believe it’s common respect to address him/her formally; not with a lower case “g.” I’m just saying … ]
While another person wrote:
The best way to become a parent is to chose to have your children during your most fertile years, not when you are old.
[Hmm … maybe some of us did choose to become parents when we were supposed to be most fertile? And so what if we started later in life? What does it matter to you?]
And yet another person stated the obvious:
If you can’t have babies, why not just adopt?
[Because clearly adopting a child is such a simple task. And, unlike infertility treatments, there’s no financial or emotional stress involved in the adoption process. NOT!]
But this one … for me, this one is the kicker of them all:
Infertility, especially in developed nations like the US, is probably a good thing. I think it’s reprehensible that big pharma and the medical community is encouraging people to have children.
That last statement is what probably angered me the most. Even more than the “G*d didn’t mean for you to have kids” statement. To me, this statement has the potential to dig deeper than the emotional turmoil an infertile couple can feel. As if feeling like failure for not being able to reproduce wasn’t bad enough … it is statements like that which can strip away any sense of support that an Infertile can turn to outside of the Adoption, Loss & Infertility (ALI) Community.
But that’s my own humble opinion. Because really, when *I* look at both the “Increase Your Chances” advertisement and TLC’s “A Conception Story” Web series, I don’t immediately think about running to the first Infertility Specialist I know. And I don’t make a mad dash to the drug store to pick up more Home Pregnancy Tests.
No. The first thing I think of is that it’s about d*mn time that Infertility is getting its time in the spotlight. Just like Cancer, Diabetes, Coronary Artery Disease … and pretty much every other health condition (Erectile Dysfunction anyone?) has.
Don't you think this 24 & 25 yo newlywed couple deserved to have kids? We started trying about a year after our honeymoon and kept trying for more than 10 years.
Like the current Stanley Cup Finals series, the ApronStrings Household is split.
For those that aren’t sports nuts like the two of us, that means that the Chicago Blackhawks and the Philadelphia Flyers are both tied with two wins apiece after Game Four in the seven-game series.
Not that I mean to say that Hubby & I are at odds with one another … well, at least when it comes to our relationship. Rather, we’re at odds when it comes to cheering on which hockey team we think should win the coveted Cup.
I should start off by saying that, first and foremost, I will always cheer for my hometown Detroit Red Wings wherever we live. But since they failed to make it to the finals this year … I had no choice but to choose an “adopted” team.
I should also add here that if I had my druthers … and if the Red Wings weren’t going to make the Finals … I would have absolutely loved to see two different teams vying for the Cup this season. And those two teams would have been the Vancouver Cannucks and the Montreal Canadiens. To me, it only seems fitting that the year Canada won Gold in a Canadian Olympics, then they should also deserve to have Stanley return home … at least for the year.
And yes, Mrs. Spit. I know this would have made you very very happy, also. 🙂
Instead now, Hubby & I find ourselves — for the first time in our married lives — rooting against each other. Him cheering for a team, simply because they’re considered the underdogs of the series. And me cheering for a team, for the mere fact that this team’s town has become my adopted town.
Hubby cheers for his team, simply because his opposing team has long-been rivals of the Detroit Red Wings. While I cheer for my team because it’s been 47 years since this team has won the Stanley Cup.
Either way, it’s been fun watching the series with Hubby. And it’s definitely made watching the NHL’s “second season” much more interesting.
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Meet Al the Octopus; the Detroit Red Wings mascot. For Wing Nuts, like ourselves, throwing octopi onto the ice during Playoff Season is a long-standing tradition for the Red Wings Franchise.
As for how Al got his name … he was named after Al Sobotka, the general building manager for Joe Louis Arena; and the wonderful soul that picks up every thrown octopi and twirls it over his head.
Hubby & I bought our 2002 Subaru Legacy Outback with the idea that we’d have this “wagon” for our future children.
Never mind that we had already been on the infertility roller coaster for more than three years by then. And that I was heading into my first laparotomy to clear out some of that nasty endo stuff. Nevermind that we pretty much knew by then that IVF was in our near future.
We just wanted to have a nice reliable “family” type car to own so we’d be able to share memories of road trips with the kids like both of us remembered growing up.
And as we all know, that dream never came into fruition. Well, at least the “kids” part.
Anyway, around the time Hubby & I got our Outback, these car stickers began to pop up on minvans and SUV’s everywhere. They were the kind of clear car stickers that you could place on the rear window and peel off, if you ever needed to. And on these stickers were “stick figures” of all the family members that lived in the particular car-owner’s household. You know, Dad followed by Mom plus how-ever-many kids they had … and even whatever pet they had.
They still have those stickers today; except now you can customize it to whatever you’d like. You can have Dad be a “golfer” while Mom is a “nurse” (or worse … at least for me, pregnant!); and you can have kids be “dressed” in whatever activities they’re involved with (sports, scouts, etc.).
And as much as I began to despise those car stickers (especially in the later years of our IF journey), I must admit that I’ve always wanted to have one.
Of course, our sticker wouldn’t have any children on there; it would only have Hubby & I in our “custom” outfits. And of course we’d have to add our fur-children. So I looked online to see what they had available and was pleasantly surprised to see just how much we could customize them.
Hubby's the "Comic Book" guy and I'm just a fashionista ...
I haven’t ordered one; nor do I think I ever will … because geesh! They seem ridiculously expensive for stick figures … but, it was fun imagining what our rear window would have looked like.
It’s a sad day here in the ApronStrings household. We just found out that one of our cat-nieces passed away today at the age of 19.
Mocha was an adorable kitty who absolutely loved to play fetch with you. You could crumple up a small piece of paper and throw it across the room … and she’d find it and bring it back to you.
She’d been my brother’s cat throughout the years of grad school and med school; keeping my brother company as he moved around. And although she didn’t love the fact that there was a new “woman” in Dr. Bro’s life … she learned to live with Dr. SIL all the same. And then she learned to live with a new sister-kitty, Sophia … and eventually “tolerated” her two younger (but definitely bigger) greyhound brothers.
Despite all these changes, Mocha remained a feisty cat. She never loved to be carried (except by Dr. Bro, of course) but loved to paw at you while sitting next to her. And even though I won’t miss being scratched at or bitten when attempting to pet her during one of her “moods”, I will miss her dearly.
I should start off by saying that, first and foremost, I will 
