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Happy Pomegranate Week

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. And as I suspected, I am not aware of anything that the Archdiocese of Detroit is doing to “celebrate” this week. (Although, is there really anything to celebrate about infertility?) Ironically though, if one was interested in sending their children to Catholic schools in the area, the Archdiocese has designated today as “Open House” day for all the Catholic schools. Hmmm… if I HAD any children, I would probably be taking part of this event. But alas …

So knowing that my faith wasn’t doing anything to promote this week, I went online to see if there was anything locally going on this week. What did my search yield? That there was absolutely NOTHING happening in and around the great city of Detroit. Actually, I didn’t find anything within the whole state of Michigan. And I EVEN checked the Resolve website. Pretty darn sad, if you ask me. So it’s no wonder why infertility as a chronic disease is just not something that many people are willing to discuss. (And I DO mean a chronic disease, like diabetes or cancer. In my humble opinion, infertility is a disease that requires a lifestyle adjustment.)

That’s why I decided to rename this week “Pomegranate Week” instead.

Why Pomegranate? In a movement started via blogging, the idea of having a symbol for those who have experienced or currently experiencing infertility evolved. This led to a lengthy discussion about a symbol that would identify other “infertiles” from one another as well as perhaps a catalyst to discussing infertility to those who might question what the symbol was about. Eventually what this group came up with was a simple thread, the color of pomegranate. This thread, which was to be tied along the right wrist as a bracelet, could be as simple or as ornate as the wearer wanted it to be. And thus this movement became known as “Infertility’s Common Thread.”

I could go on and on about the history of how this came about and all the symbolism to it. However, I think the original statement that was written by a fellow “infertile” says it best:

Pomegranates, a longstanding symbol of fertility, serve as a strong analogy to those suffering through infertility. Though each pomegranate skin is unique in colour and texture, the seeds inside are remarkably similar from fruit to fruit. Though our diagnosis is unique — endometriosis, low sperm count, luteal phase defect, or causes unknown — the emotions, those seeds on the inside, are the same from person to person. Infertility creates frustration, anger, depression, guilt, and loneliness. Compounding these emotions is the shame that drives people suffering from infertility to retreat into silence.

In addition, the seeds represent the multitude of ways one can build their family: natural conception, treatments, adoption, third-party reproduction, or even choosing to live child-free.

The pomegranate thread holds a two-fold purpose: to identify and create community between those experiencing infertility as well as create a starting point for a conversation. Women pregnant through A.R.T., families created through adoption, or couples trying to conceive during infertility can wear the thread, identifying themselves to others in this silent community. At the same time, the string serves as a gateway to conversations about infertility when people inquire about its purpose. These conversations are imperative if we are ever to remove the social stigma attached to infertility. Tie on the thread because you’re not alone. Wear to make aware.

NOT a Kabbalah Bracelet

So a few weeks ago, I went out and bought my pomegranate colored thread (DMC embroidery floss # 814). And yesterday, I finally made my bracelet. Today, I wear it proudly and if anyone should ask, I would gladly share a discussion with them.

For my fellow Infertility Friends, Happy Pomegranate Week!

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Needle Nut

I have been a little busy lately. Probably a good thing, as I do need to keep myself busy otherwise I will start to overanalyze things like I typically do. And then, well … that just gets me in trouble. (I swear, there is something to be said about thinking “too much.”) However, this time around, I’m keeping myself busy is for a good cause.

My Newest “Nephew” Jakobi

Last year, a co-worker and I read an article in our work newsletter that talked about a couple of other employees in another one of our offices who knitted and crocheted quite a few baby hats and donated them to a local hospital’s Neonatal and Special Care Nursery units. Since the two of us knit, we thought that the following year we would try and do the same thing.

And over the course of the year, we did forget about it. It wasn’t until the most recent events concerning my nephew, Liam, that I once again remembered our plan. Since we had quite a few knitters and crocheters in our office, we decided to include them in our plans as well. We also thought that instead of limiting our project to premie and newborn hats, we would extend it to chemo caps for those kids in the Pediatric Oncology floors.

Since presenting this idea to our other co-workers a few weeks ago, we have received an overwhelmingly warm response. We had such a great response that we’ve even designated our lunch time on Mondays to work on our projects and to get tips or exchange patterns for different designs. (We’re a pretty big group in our cafeteria that our group has been given the nickname “Needle Nuts.”) And as of this past week, we have well over 20 knitted or crocheted premie hats and chemo caps in a variety of different colors and styles. It’s been like Christmas for me every day, as there is always a new item added to the box next to my desk.

“The Therapeutic Blanket Project”

Doing this project has become therapeutic for me… especially given the fact that I’m actually knitting hats for babies that won’t ever be my own. I always thought it was ironic that I was a knitter. After all, there’s a common misnomer that knitters were either grandmothers or mothers who would knit things for babies or young children. And here I was, the childless wonder.

I started knitting a few years ago simply as a diversion. And when I found out that my SIL was pregnant, I knew that I was going to knit a blanket and hat & booties for this child, even though I knew it would just about kill me. But I finished that project (unofficially known as the “therapeutic blanket project”), and I felt really good about doing it too. (It’s just too bad that Liam never got to use them.) After that, I went on to knit a newborn hat this summer for my cousin in Calgary who was due in September.

And now … I’m heading up our holiday needle craft project at work. To be doing that is a big step for me. For so long I felt so down on myself (and there are still quite a few days that I do) and quite honestly, clinically depressed. Every literature I ever read about trying to snap out of depression was to do something for others; the theory being that if you helped others less fortunate, you wouldn’t feel so down on yourself. And it’s a really good theory. However, try telling that to someone who could barely take care of herself, let alone help someone else out. Nearly next to impossible, I tell you.

But now that I have a little more energy, I do feel that I am able to help others out a little more. And that’s a good thing … for this Needle Nut.


The Box of Hats Thus Far
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Autumn Soundtrack & Apron Strings

I love autumn. It’s my favorite season of the year. There’s something about it that appeals to all my senses. The air smells crisp … which then reminds me of pumpkin pie and caramel apples. The leaves change to bright beautiful colors and once they fall, they are just so much fun to stomp on just to hear the crinkling sound. And of course, there’s the change in weather … Indian summer is great, but I do look forward to the drop in temperature just so I can start wearing my sweaters again.

Fall always invokes many memories. The absolute geek in me remembers being excited to go back to school so that I could crack open those new books and break in those new supplies. There’s also the annual trip to the cider mill to get fresh cider and hot donuts and/or to the apple orchards to pick fresh apples. And of course, there is always college football.

Over the years, I’ve started to associate certain songs with certain seasons. Most people associate certain scents with memories, but I’ve always been one that tends to gravitate to the music that has surrounded me during the periods in my life. I describe it as my own personal soundtrack to my life.

For autumn, there is something about The Cure that sticks out in my mind, particularly the “Disintegration” album and specifically the song “Pictures of You.” I’m sure it’s because I remember seeing them in concert during the fall of my senior year in high school; and the song has this haunting melody that reminds me of saying goodbye to friends that have graduated and were heading off to college for the first time.

And speaking of college, another song sparks memories of that first weekend of college and moving into my dorm room. “Life in a Northern Town” by The Dream Academy reminds me of leaving that sheltered environment of Catholic school and expanding my horizons. I remember this song being played by a person I had just met and was surprised that this particular person would like this song as well. It reminds me that you can never judge a book by its cover.

Then there’s “Hands to Heaven” by Breathe. Every time I hear this song I remember my first date in my Junior year in high school. It was the Homecoming Dance at my school and I was escorted by none other than the person I would eventually marry nine years later. Can you believe back then we were going to the dance strictly “as friends?” I think it’s rather interesting that the chorus to that song starts out as “So raise your hands to heaven and pray / That we’ll be back together some day.” Hmm… must have been a foreshadowing of what was to come.

And the last quintessential song for my Fall Soundtrack is none other than the song of which my blog title came from. “Apron String” by Everything But The Girl has been a song that has been part of my life since I was in high school. The first time I ever heard it was by listening to the soundtrack for the John Hughes film, “She’s Having A Baby.” Not that I really liked that particular movie, but John Hughes, in my humble opinion, always had a knack for picking such great songs for any of his films. Anyway, this song reminds me of fall simply for the fact that I remember playing that soundtrack over and over one autumn season.

It’s funny how “Apron Strings”, as a song has always been part of my life. First, during that one autumn season that I played that song over and over again. Then, as I began to fall in love with my husband one spring day during a trip to Ann Arbor my senior year in high school. And finally as I have struggled emotionally over the past ten years with infertility.

My husband came up with the name of the blog, I think, strictly on the fact that he knew that this was probably my most favorite song in the world. What he didn’t expect was that this blog and that song would be pretty much the running theme for what I “needed” to blog about. I’ve had people ask me why I decided to name my blog “Apron Strings,” as the common reference to actual apron strings is about either being tied to one or needing to be cut from one.

For me, the song “Apron Strings” is all about longing. When put in context with infertility, it becomes specifically a longing for a child. If you haven’t had a chance to read the lyrics to the song, feel free to read it here. Then let me know what you think.

But getting back to the whole Autumn soundtrack, music has always played a part in my life. I’d like to know what other songs people associate this season with. There’s some R.E.M. songs that I can think of as well as some U2 songs (hmmm … perhaps “October”?). Or perhaps it’s something as silly as a song from the “Grease” soundtrack. Come on … I can hear you humming a song in the back of your head … let’s “hear” it in writing!

Mmmm … all this talk about autumn has got me craving some warm apple pie and of wanting to snuggle under a warm blanket with Hubby. I’ll be catching you guys later!

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VHS or BETA

There are few bands out there that completely surprise me any more these days. I don’t know if it’s the fact that the older I get, the more music starts to sound the same or similar to another song that’s out there now. Or perhaps there aren’t many original bands out there this day.

I usually leave the task of updating my iPod with music to my husband. He’s pretty good at picking up music he knows I’d enjoy. A couple years ago, my Hubby downloaded the album “Night on Fire” by VHS or BETA. I had never heard of them before, but they instantly became a favorite of mine. Their sound reminded me of bands that I loved back in the 80’s. To me, without reading any previous reviews on them, they sounded like a cross between Duran Duran during their “New Romantic” era and Robert Smith from The Cure. It was the type of music that made me want to roll down my car window and sing at the top of my lungs, like I used to in high school.

A few weeks ago, Hubby and I were listening to them in the car (and yes, I was singing along). I turned to him and said, “If these guys ever come in concert, I would love to check them out.” Imagine my surprise when last week, he told me they were coming to Detroit. Yeah, we definitely had to go.

So last night, we drove to the Magic Stick to check the band out. I was taken back by how relatively empty the place was. I would have thought that more people would have dug their sound as well. It wasn’t until VHS or BETA actually came on and said that they were happy that anyone showed up at all as Morrissey was also in town, that I remembered that bit of news. Regardless, the band totally ROCKED! (How 80’s sounding is that?) And since it was such an “intimate” atmosphere, that made it all the better.

But going back to the whole “surprised” part of it. The band itself, was not at all what I would have thought they would look like. I pictured tailored Durannie-looking outfits and a mostly synth-based, drum and bass-loaded band. What stood in front of me was a skinny better-than-early-Axl Rose-without-the-big-hair-looking band. And what I thought would be mostly pre-recorded tracks on a Mac laptop that was hooked up to the keyboards was really a full-out band. And the way they played together, it was just a perfectly engineered sound. A very very tight sound. (And on a completely different note, I was totally floored by the fact that the lead singer was Asian… Represent!!)

So there you have it. A big thumbs up for VHS or BETA from me. If you guys ever get a chance to see them, I recommend that you do. In the mean time, check out the video for “Night on Fire” which has got to be my favorite tune from them. And let me know what you think … you be the judge.

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Faith and Longing

I didn’t know this, but October is National Pregnancy and Infancy Loss Month. My Mom, a devout Catholic, told me this information last week after reading her church bulletin. Apparently, the Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament (which is also the Archdiocese of Detroit’s “home parish”) was holding it’s annual mass for those couples who have lost their baby or for those couples who were trying to achieve pregnancy. She had called me thinking that my sister-in-law (SIL), Janet, and I might be interested in attending the mass. I told her that I would talk to Janet and then call her back the next day if we decide to go.

Right away, I knew my decision was going to be based on whether my SIL wanted to go. It’s not that I don’t have any spiritual faith or that I don’t believe in a higher power. It’s more because the past 10 years of infertility have caused a “rift” between God and myself.

Let’s start with a little background. As I mentioned before, my mother is a strong believer in her Catholic faith. Growing up in our household, God was always present in our daily lives and activities. The weekends revolved around when we were going to mass. We would spend summers volunteering to do “Meals on Wheels” through our Church and any Catholic holiday helping out with preparations for our Church. Every night, we would read a chapter from the Bible. And because religion was very important to my parents, I attended Catholic school up through high school. I consider myself truly lucky that my parents invested their time and their money in bringing me up with such a strong faith background. And I truly admire my Mom for all that she continues to do on a daily basis for her faith.

And there’s me. After twelve years of Catholic school and the freedom of going away to college … well, of course I detoured and explored life without organized religion. It’s not that I stopped believing in my faith or stopped practicing the basic morals of what I was taught growing up. Rather, I stopped going to mass weekly and only went when it was absolutely necessary. I also stopped my habit of saying my nightly prayers. Let’s face it, college life (and even post-college life) was just more interesting and religion was put on the back burner.

However, even back then I always knew that I would return to my faith. The one thing that Hubby (who is also Catholic) and I always said was that when it came to raising our children, we wanted to provide them with the same faith and morals that we were taught growing up. And when that time came, we both knew we would whole-heartedly return to our faith.

So imagine what has gone through my mind these past ten years as pregnancy never came. Now most people would have turned closer to their faith. And at first I did. I returned to my nightly prayers and attempted to go to mass weekly. My prayers for a family initially started out as “Please God, I ask that you provide me with the family I’ve always wanted.” As the years went on, it became “God, I know I’m a good person but I don’t understand why you’re testing my faith. Why can’t I get pregnant?” Eventually, I just became very angry at God. Why would He do this to me? Why does He allow other people to become parents when they don’t deserve to be? If God has a reason for doing things (as everyone has a way of telling me over and over AND OVER again), what “reason” did He have for making me feel so sad and miserable and GUILTY for feeling the way I do?

So when the opportunity to go to this mass came along, I wasn’t jumping at the bit. However, I knew that this would be a good thing for my SIL, especially since her loss is so recent. After a bit of discussion, we decided to meet up for breakfast on Sunday and head down to the Cathedral, sans husbands (my hubby had to work and hers is not of the same faith).

Overall, I am truly glad that we went. My SIL had the opportunity to place Liam’s name in the Book of Innocence, in which prayers will be said for these babies’ souls. A prayer was said to all those parents who lost their infant and each family was given a rose and a rosary blessed by Cardinal Maida. A prayer was also said for all the couples wishing to become pregnant or adopt a child. We were individually prayed over by the bishop with an actual relic of St. Gerard and given his medallion to continue to pray to him so that St. Gerard would “intercede” to God on our behalf. It was pretty emotional being up there and being surrounded by the beauty and strength of the Cathedral. And I do admit, I certainly did feel God’s presence that day.

However, there was one thing that truly bugged me. This mass was sponsored by the archdiocese’s Natural Family Planning program. Which makes sense, given the nature of what this Mass was about. What had bothered me was the handout they provided on all their methods for Natural Family Planning. Not that I have anything against it, but obviously I wasn’t able to get pregnant using that method. At the very bottom of their handout, it made mention about the Catholic stance on infertility procedures. The basic gist of what they said was that certain infertility procedures are appropriate; however, those procedures that involve a third person in the creation of a child is morally unacceptable.

So wow. My first response on that? Holy Mary, Mother of God … I sinned. And I sinned REALLY badly. And apparently that’s the reason why my IVF cycle failed. So guilt was my first reaction. The second one was that of anger. Why the bloody hell is it considered immoral? I tried everything under the sun to try to procreate naturally and it didn’t happen. So are they telling me then that if pregnancy didn’t happen “naturally” then it’s God’s will that I remain childless? And yet … (here it comes again) there are people out there who don’t deserve to have children?

Okay, so logically I know my first reaction was irrational. And the second one is indeed justified. But it’s that type of thing that leaves me feeling disappointed in my faith.

Despite all that, I do admit that I’ve been trying to work on returning to my faith. As of recently, I have started meeting with a Stephen Minister through a local Catholic Church who just sits and talks with me about all this anger and guilt that I feel, especially about my infertility and my fears about the adoption process. Perhaps one day, whether I continue to pursue having a family or not, I will fully, without any reservations, return to my faith.

Hmm … I wonder if the Catholic Church knows that the week of November 4-10 is National Infertility Awareness Week. And I wonder if they’ll have any events that commemorates that week?