Once upon a time

Last week, husband and I had our obligatory "donor recipient counseling session". It was nice to talk to someone and lay out 4 years of infertility hell on a platter.

Dr.K was a lovely counselor. I was a little nervous talking to her on the phone when I made the appointment weeks back (she had a thick accent which I couldn't decipher). But in person, I found her to be witty and very knowledgeable about infertility. And the accent? Her roots are in the former Republic of Yugoslavia (specifically Bosnia) by way of Poland.

I have to admit, I did most of the talking. For those of you who know me in real life, you also know S. is not much of a talker (although he can get chatty if the mood inspires him). But I have to admit, when Dr.K gave S. open-ended questions, I got a ton of devilish enjoyment watching him squirm to find the right words to say. He is so charming, and it reminded me why I love him so.

At a point in the discussion, Dr.K asked how long we have been together.

The answer, not so easy.

Married for 14 years next week. Dated 2 years prior to that. But when we met?? S. and I were 10 years old. Neighbors. Our Moms were friends, our brothers were friends. Oh, and S. was my first kiss on the cheek. We were buddies all through grade school.

We didn't date until I was nearly 24 years old. In fact, even though we went to school together, we led entirely separate lives through high school.

That was when Dr.K looked at us in amazement, and said, "how delightful... a happy ending."

After the session was over, I felt a little bit giddy that I was able to talk to someone who would not judge me. And later that night, as I sat on the edge of the bed, I had a thought.

Being so focused on this one big goal, I do admit to forgetting how much I do have. I married my best friend. And, I had a baby! I did (it's hard to believe). In 2003 I gave birth to David, which in hindsight was nothing short of a miracle.

So, yes, I've had more than a few happy endings.. and on the days I feel in the dumps, I will remind myself that life never hinges on a single goal.

Not to say I don't have more happy endings in store.

In fact, I am counting on it.

What you don't know...

So, it's almost been a year since the last failed pregnancy. The "almost" perfect one that ended too soon.

The weird thing is even though I am now in Year Four of this huge mess, this is the longest time I've gone without being pregnant.

That seems a little odd saying that. In fact, I giggle a bit because at first glance seeing that sentence you might think I was Miche.lle Dugga.r. But you would be wrong. Because none of my last five babies were born alive.

Granted, for the last 3 months, we've guarded against a "spontaneous" conception (for you fertile types, that's how the other 99% of the world gets pregnant). The last thing I need is another pregnancy with my broken eggs.

Lying in bed last night, I realized that I can only remember the dates of the first and the last miscarriage. I am envious that my fellow sisters-in-loss can remember each anniversary of each positive HPT, each loss, and each unfulfilled due date.

I cannot.

I remember the first. It was on a Saturday in April. I was watching the "Chronicle.s of Nar.nia" on DVD with my husband and D. I was 11 weeks pregnant. By Sunday, I was not. I should have been due on my husband's birthday. I had just turned 38 years old, and my own OB/GYN came into the recovery room after my first D&E and told me I had "PLENTY of time left to have another baby."

PLENTY, I remember that word like it was yesterday. And that sentence echos onward. How wrong she would be.

My last pregnancy that looked so promising ended after the dreaded viability scan. I had just seen a heartbeat, a perfect one, and thought that pregnancy #6 would be THE ONE. It was not, and on a cold February morning one week after, I had another D&E.

In between loss number one and five is just a hazy history. A trail of broken dreams and hearts.

Some people still wonder why I am still marching down this road. They have grown weary of my trek, and lost interest. I don't blame them at all, and I have finally reached peace with that.

The hard thing is looking in people's eyes... and I know what they are thinking...

... they think I am crazy.

Well, I should say the ones who think THAT certainly aren't infertiles, moms, or compassionate women/men themselves. The are either very naive or very ignorant. Sometimes both.

The difference now between that old me and the battered me is I am able to more easily move from that conversation, or just go about my business knowing that not everyone will understand.

They will never understand.

Occasionally, the few who do are life lifeboats on a vast ocean. I used to be the type of person that dealt with my pain alone, but infertility has changed that. Instead of reaching for the lifeboat I would doggie paddle to keep my head above water. I would suck it up and wade in the ocean even if my legs went numb and I was gasping for breath.

Now, when I feel too burdened by myself, I swim.

And swim.

Until I find a lifeboat. That lifeboat is now a such a welcoming oasis. It is all of you, my bloggy friends, and a select group of real life friends and family who are commited to standing next to me.

Or swimming, as it were.

I never knew how much I would appreciate a community that can listen to my dribble- really listen, and despite my failed history... still be my cheerleaders.

I've done nothing but fail lately, but here I am about to embark one last time, and there you are still wishing and praying for me.

For that, I say Thank You.

Home cookin'

This post is for my sister-in-law, J.

I subscribe to Pau.la Dee.n's magazine, and look who's on this month's cover!


Southern cookin' never looked so hawt!! Sweet treats, indeed...

(Yes, we are giggling school girls in our spare time)

Trivialities

It's Friday, and I've had a long week at work, so forgive me for these most random thoughts.

I don't know if I mentioned it here (I did a few weeks ago over here), but I started W.eight W.atchers again. I cashed in on my head start (being sick after the holiday), and went into serious detox mode. Lost 5 pounds on my own, and another 8 since. My quick goal before starting my DE cycle was to drop as much weight as I could, and basically get myself to a healthier place.

To my surprise, I've been hanging in there. And after two weeks of hard-core detoxing, I must report I am feeling wonderful. My energy is back again! It's as is I flipped a light switch. Who knew? It was just the right time, and the right place of mind for me to do this. I am eating foods I never would have touched before. It seems a radical approach, BUT it is working for me right now.

David is having a great time @ basketball. The first practice was, well, hard for him. He seriously needed some help dribbling. But one basketball purchase later from T.arget, (and some practice time in with his Mom the "former teen basketball queen"), he is doing a lot better and loving the game. He especially loves the warm-ups (as evidenced to the right>>>>)


Also, I've been obsessing over something that is driving me crazy lately, and it has nothing to do with infertility (surprise!). It's my anonymity as a blogger. I am slowly coming to grips that some people might find me on the web whether I want them to or not. Either that or I need to drop every social networking tool. lol. Check out my latest post on New Jersey Moms Blog )and you'll read what I'm talking about.

Last but not least, next week I should hear something (in the form of a schedule) from the RE on the donor. She has an appointment on Tuesday to get the ball rolling.

That's it from here! Have a great weekend friends!

Acceptance

The Eagles lost.

The Eagles lost!!!

I need a moment...

...

My Dad and I have been avid life-long Eagles fans. Each year when they stumble into the playoffs, we get our hopes up. And then they lose a critical game. Our hopes are dashed, and we begin our travel through the stages of grief:

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

It's not even 24 hours since that god-awful game, and I'm already through to acceptance.

That was fast. Well, there's always next year, right?

So as I am thinking about this thought, it occurs to me that infertility and loss exists (ironically) on the same continuum.

With my five losses over the last 4 years, I progressed to acceptance (for the losses), albeit at very different speeds. It won't surprise you that each consecutive loss has gotten progressively harder, and more difficult to work through. But ultimately, I accept it and move on.

It is the state of infertility that is the problem. The loss of my reproductive ability, although stretched out over time, is still a "loss", but have I gotten through to the "acceptance" part of it?

No.

And, just for emphasis...

NO.

So, where am I? On this scale of healing?

For a long time, I was stuck on step two, Anger. Angry that I was broken. Angry at myself for not having babies in my 20's. Angry that the RE wasn't aggressive enough. Angry at every pregnant woman who walked the earth.

I think I sailed right through Bargaining into Depression.

And depression is where I stay. Maybe not pure depression (I am still hopeful), but surely the "woe is me" kind of depression scattered throughout the sunny days when things are looking up.

And, for my readers who have walked in each other's infertility shoes, most of us languish in the depression stage. For some of us, who never complete their families, there is only two endings to this road:

Receive the child(ren) you worked so hard for.

OR

Accept that you won't and move on to better things.

And there ends the five stages of grief. Sounds simple, but so not simple.

Truth be told, I am drawing ever closer to acceptance. Abandoning my old eggs was a huge step for me. Can I tell you how freeing it is to stop charting when I'm not cycling? To end the "evening obligation" on Days 10-17 because "I might ovulate today, no tomorrow, oh hell, let's just do it again today to make sure"???

It feels wonderful to escape the pressure, for good.

With this impending DE cycle, it gives me the opportunity to finally step off of the hamster wheel at the end.

A one-way ticket to the land of acceptance. Which, from what I can imagine, can't be THAT bad of a place. Freedom is never a bad thing.

In the meantime, I reside, with many of you in the waiting place. For those of you who made it out the other side, I salute you. For those still here, my wish for all of us is to get to the last step. Hopefully, with minimal bruising and a lot of loving care. I promise to hold your hand to the other side, if you'll hold mine.

I think Dr. Seuss said it best. To finally escape:

You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…

…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That’s not for you!

Somehow you’ll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You’ll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping,
once more you’ll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!

Who knew Dr. Seuss was applicable in the infertility world?

You are HERE not THERE

I should be in Northern California today, but alas, I am not.

Why... pray tell? I am excited to be a part of a special project for 23andMe. Have you heard of this company? Oh, I can't wait to tell you all about it!

They've been featured on Oprah, and been awarded the distinguished Invention of the Year by Time Magazine.

And, now, I am an official blogger for them. ME. In fact, my DNA is somewhere in a lab being analyzed right NOW. Aren't you intrigued?

I am seriously excited to be a part of this project. Writing is my passion, and I'll be doing a lot more of it.

So why am I here and not there? Well, I thought I'd be further ahead in my DE cycle when the trip was planned, so I had to pass on the meet and greet in CA. Major bummer. Instead, I am here in the 20 degree bliss which is New Jersey.

More on the details later.

For now, I must grab my cup of tea and wooly slippers.

Hungry like the wolf

Still recovering from the ickies (they took a lot longer to get rid of than I hoped). The good news is we are all now on the path to wellness again.

Speaking of wellness, I am now officially "back on the wagon" with my diet. Being sick gave me a five pound head start, and yesterday I went back to Wei.ght W.atchers. The good news is I gained no weight over the holidays! The bad news is I am still fat. And hungry.

Oh hell, it is what it is I guess. ...Baby steps.

David started his first season of basketball last Sunday. Much like soccer, basketball and 5/6 year-olds are a sight to see in action. Picture a bunch of kids under the basket with hands up in the air and clueless faces. lol. David seems to like it. He does great with shooting, but not so great dribbling. We bought a (real) basketball over the weekend and are working on that. Since I played basketball as a youth, I now finally have the chance to show David my "mad basketball skillz". bwahahaha. If I remember them.

Lastly, an update on the donor cycle. Nothing happened over the holidays due to vacations and merriment. I don't have a schedule yet, but hoping to soon. I got a call from the donor coordinator today, and the donor is still "on" (she has an appt. with the RE on the 27th), and is awaiting a new cycle to start. So, no birth control pills or Lupron yet on the horizon. Suffice to say that nothing interesting will be going on the remainder of this month at least. Not that it matters much, my schedule is pretty open and nothing significant is coming up that will conflict with the plan.

I am happy to be in a place right now of zen.

Concentrating on self-improvement and resting up for what the New Year holds in store.

Vote, please!

My blogging friend Mel (from Stirrup Queens) is a finalist for the Weblog Awards under best medical/health blog, which as many of you know is the ultimate place for infertility information and support. Mel's blog was one of the first blogs I ever followed, and from a personal note I must say has been THE epicenter of the support for me over the last few years.

Voting goes from January 5th through the 13th.

You can vote once daily by clicking here and then clicking on Stirrup Queens.

Please, pretty please, if you read this, click over and vote!

It would make me very happy.

Thank you friends.

32 Third Graders and One Class Bunny

Recently, I had the opportunity to review a book written by Phillip Done, a friend to the Silicon Valley Moms Group of which I am a contributing writer.

Phil's book, titled "32 Third Graders and One Class Bunny- Life Lessons from Teaching" was a great read.

As you might guess, Phil is a 3rd grade teacher, and from what I can gather, probably the coolest 3rd grade teacher to walk the planet. The first time I cracked open the book, I saw he had written a note to me inside the cover and capped it off with a smiley face! Only a teacher would do that, and it gave me the warm and fuzzies even before I read the first sentence. lol.

Phil is really, really funny and it comes across in his writing. I laughed out loud at practically every other page as he detailed some of the life "behind the scenes" as a teacher. "Back to School Night" will never be the same personally for me. And because of his detailed explanation of the categories of classrooms, I now have insight as to my own son's current teacher's state of mind. Her classroom is the "model home", by the way.

In one of sections, he talks about the many hats of a teacher. Doctor, dentist, taxi service, actor, mom, detective, decorator, repairman, musician, mailman, athlete, businessman. And a large portion of the book details stories (hilarious and often sentimental) about his class, and his love of teaching. And, yes, he talks about his pet bunny, a mascot of sorts for his third grade classroom.

This is a guy who at the heart of it all, loves every kid he teaches and exudes passion for his job. One of my favorite passages from his book is this one...

"Just think about what you know today. You read. You write. You work with numbers. You solve problems. We take all these things for granted. But of course you haven't always read. You haven't always known how to write. You weren't born knowing how to subtract 199 from 600. Someone showed you. There was a moment when you moved from not knowing to knowing. There was a moment when you moved from not understanding to understanding. That's why I became a teacher."

When I think back to my own teachers who impacted my life, I think of a few who shared that same passion for teaching. And because of them, and teachers like Phil , here I am today exercising one of my own passions... writing. Thank you, Phil.

Check out Phil's website for more information and where to find his book... http://www.phillipdone.org/

Update from the Sick house

"Sick" as in illness, not "totally rad" (hey, I'm an 80's girl) or, what is it that the new generation defines sick? Like, awesome? phat? solid? fischnizzle?

Yeah, I'm SO not cool. Don't torture me.

So, S. is still sick, but marginally better so he's back to work. I am working (sorta), if you consider bringing my laptop to bed working. Or, the hour-long power naps I've been taking, oh.... every other HOUR.

I've had ear pain. Head congestion. A cough that rattles so bad it could wake the dead.

And David? Well, he's just fine. How we managed not to infest him with the germs is beyond me, although lately I HAVE been toting my can of lysol around the house.

In MILESTONE news, David lost two teeth!!

His bottom front two teeth fell out on New Year's eve and last Sunday. If I was feeling better, I would post a pic, but, alas, I am not in the mood for uploading from my camera.

Let it be known that David has noted that the Tooth Fairy is cheap for only leaving him 3 dollars for each tooth (he wanted $10!).

And so goes the last week of the first week of 2009.

Go Fish!

So it's only the second day of the new year, and it begins with two of us sick.

We've been pretty lucky lately, avoiding the sickies. S. even escaped his annual sinus infection (or so we thought). D. is his usual healthy self.

Then, the day before New Year's eve, S. got really sick. It started off as sinus-related, and morphed into a coughing frenzy. So I spent New Year's eve ringing it in (alone). Just me and Dick Clark (and that annoying Ryan Seacrest).

I was feeling a little odd, but stayed up until 1am anyway. What can I say? I just had to watch the B-list entertainment on TV.

I woke up yesterday feeling very tired, and woozy. Odd, since no alcohol passed my lips the evening before. By last evening, I was coughing, hacking, and sleepless. Illness #1 for 2009.

Today, sick. And since S. is back to work, I have the whole day to be sick and play with D.

Let's see... so far we've conquered space and the martian population, played three games of Hungry Hungry Hippos, built a Lego masterpiece, played cards, and used a crane to save the firemen from the burning wreckage of a building.

And it's only 11am.

Care to join me?