Or at the very least it's acceptance.
I couldn't let my last post on this blog be my last post on this blog, and so I've come back to say that I've learned that while I still get a certain level of annoyance whenever I see a woman with a baby, I quickly move beyond annoyance and once again look at how cute the kid is.
I've learned that being inconsiderate is not the same thing as being malicious. And I was equating someone's lack of empathy, someone's inconsideration to mean that they were purposely trying to hurt me. They just can't see beyond themselves at that moment.
Someone said to me the other day that in all I did trying to get pregnant, I can never say "if only I tried one more thing." I quickly said to her, "I should have started sooner." Meaning, I waited too long, 37 was too old. Meaning, I could have done more.
I thought about it all day and starting sooner wouldn't have made a difference. I've learned that this is the way I was supposed to be a mom. And going through the last three years got me to this point of acceptance.
All painful and expensive lessons, but lessons all the same. And lessons I'm paying attention to.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The Blame Game
It seems like a day cannot go by without an announcement from someone that they are either pregnant or have given birth. Every single day. And I'm not exaggerating. I have a moment of angst, of pity, of sadness....and then I do what I do. I smile, I send a note of congratulations, ask when the due date is or when can I see a picture of the little bundle.
This morning, sometime between dreaming and being fully awake, I realized that I am taking out all of my resentment for pregnant people on a specific person. I am taking out my hurt feelings for lack of support from my family on her. Unfairly, I readily admit. But I am directing it all to her.
Because of the way she handled a situation.
Because of the way she reacted when I told her that if I got pregnant next month, I would have a baby for her wedding ("you better not steal my thunder").
Because of the way she told me she was pregnant.
Because of the way I specifically reached out to all my siblings and my older nieces, to let them know I was trying to get pregnant. That I was telling everyone early because I wanted, and might need, their support. And then never heard another word from the majority of them.
Because of the way the majority of them never sent me a note or reached out with their sympathies when I lost the only pregnancy I ever had. (And at this point, the only one I ever will have.)
And she is the symbol of it all. She is where I direct my anger and resentment.
This morning, sometime between dreaming and being fully awake, I realized that I am taking out all of my resentment for pregnant people on a specific person. I am taking out my hurt feelings for lack of support from my family on her. Unfairly, I readily admit. But I am directing it all to her.
Because of the way she handled a situation.
Because of the way she reacted when I told her that if I got pregnant next month, I would have a baby for her wedding ("you better not steal my thunder").
Because of the way she told me she was pregnant.
Because of the way I specifically reached out to all my siblings and my older nieces, to let them know I was trying to get pregnant. That I was telling everyone early because I wanted, and might need, their support. And then never heard another word from the majority of them.
Because of the way the majority of them never sent me a note or reached out with their sympathies when I lost the only pregnancy I ever had. (And at this point, the only one I ever will have.)
And she is the symbol of it all. She is where I direct my anger and resentment.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
First Pedicure of the Season
I got up this morning with a list of things to do, which could have been done in any order. I opted to do the post office and then everything else after the mall. I could have gone to the bank, could have done my grocery shopping or Kohl's, could have checked on Jill's cats -- any or all of the above before my pedicure.
This is important because all of those things enabled me to be at the mall and talk to the nice pregnant girl while we both got pedicures.
She commented how good the back massage felt. I asked her when she was due. "July, but I could go earlier because I'm carrying twins."
An inner voice, but I ignored it. I went back to making my grocery list, she talked to who I assumed was the baby daddy. He left to go smoke. I turned back to her, "do you know what you're having?"
"Identical boys."
Inner voice got much louder. It couldn't be, could it? "Wow, congratulations."
"Thanks. I have four other children." And then I could have repeated the ages and names of her children along with her. "Four, three, two and just over one." And then she showed me pictures of kids I've seen before. Kids I knew about. The baby I have actually held.
Yup. Leave it to me to be sitting next to and making small talk with the DSS mother I wrote about last week.
Are you shitting me?
This is important because all of those things enabled me to be at the mall and talk to the nice pregnant girl while we both got pedicures.
She commented how good the back massage felt. I asked her when she was due. "July, but I could go earlier because I'm carrying twins."
An inner voice, but I ignored it. I went back to making my grocery list, she talked to who I assumed was the baby daddy. He left to go smoke. I turned back to her, "do you know what you're having?"
"Identical boys."
Inner voice got much louder. It couldn't be, could it? "Wow, congratulations."
"Thanks. I have four other children." And then I could have repeated the ages and names of her children along with her. "Four, three, two and just over one." And then she showed me pictures of kids I've seen before. Kids I knew about. The baby I have actually held.
Yup. Leave it to me to be sitting next to and making small talk with the DSS mother I wrote about last week.
Are you shitting me?
Sunday, March 7, 2010
The Week in Review
It's been a weird week. My emotions have been on a roller coaster, mostly down. I'm sad. That's really the only way to describe it. And I know that I will get over it eventually -- or at least, if not over it, it will become a little more bearable each day.
I started to think about my birthday and how I'm going to be 40 in a little over a month. Never in a million years did I think 40 would look like this. But here it is. Where a few weeks ago, I wasn't making any plans for 40, because I so thought I would be pregnant, now I have plans to make.
So I'm going to Baltimore the weekend after my birthday, for my usual round of visiting. And Bubbles is making all sorts of plans -- I just have to show up. A day at the spa, fancy dinner out. And lots of drinks. Finally, something to look forward to.
My friend at work (who has several children through foster care) told me about identical twin boys to be born this summer. The mother has four toddlers (4, 3, 2 and 13 months) -- all in foster care. DSS isn't sure what the plan is for the babies. As Charlie was telling me, the woman who has the other four kids can't take two more. And the mother, if she doesn't have her babies right from birth to bond with them, doesn't want them.
She wants her 4-, 3-, and 2-year olds back, but not the baby. Because he was taken away from her as soon as he was born. She doesn't feel a connection with him. She doesn't have any bond with him.
So I called DSS, one of the women who taught the classes I was in last spring, and left a message. It was very generic -- just that I wanted to touch base, let her know where things were in my life, etc. She passed me off to someone else, who specifically handles adoption.
And when the adoption guy and I finally connected, I asked very specific questions about this woman who is pregnant with twins and doesn't have custody of her other four children. I knew more about the situation than he did. He didn't have a whole lot to say. They're not sure of what the plan is when she gives birth, if the twins can't go with the other four, the goal is still family reunification, can I do that?
I was honest. I told him no. These women give birth to throw away children, I'm not going to help them get their kids back. But knowing a lot about the situation, knowing how she feels after giving birth and giving up immediate custody, I'm willing to take the chance that she would get her kids back. He appreciated my honesty, and of course because of the business he's in, he can't agree with me.
I understand the premise of DSS. I understand why we have Child Protective Services. I do. I get it. And I understand that people makes mistakes, that there are circumstances.
But in the case of the kids that Charlie has -- a 4-year-old and a 3-year-old who have been in Charlie's care for more than two and a half years; and their 2-year-old twin sisters who have been with Charlie all but six months of their lives. (not to mention the three teenagers she has lost permanent custody of and who live with their grandmother). And then this other case -- four toddlers and now soon-to-be-born twins. They've been in foster care since last January. The baby has never been in the custody of his mother.
It's a fucked up world we live in. I can't get pregnant, I can't have a child, and these women are getting pregnant more often than Michelle Duggar. Explain the logic. Explain the fairness.
And my frustration is more than at these women, it's at the system, as well. So my conversation with the adoption guy, after he said he would talk with the woman I had called in the first place, I asked what my next steps should be. "Will you call me after you talk to her? Will she call me? Or should I check in with you or her in, say two weeks?"
He didn't know how to answer that. He's not sure what the birth plan is for the twins. "Well, they're due to be born in June. And they're twins, so she may go early...." My voice was trailing off, because I needed to keep my composure, but when the fuck were they planning to figure it out. It's March.
"Yeah, I'm really not sure what to tell you. We'll keep in mind that you're interested in these boys, and add you to the list."
And so that's that? WTF? No wonder people have the opinion of DSS that they have. I know they are understaffed, underpaid, over burdened. But here I am, wanting to do something, to help two children.
It's a frustrating place to be, for sure.
I started to think about my birthday and how I'm going to be 40 in a little over a month. Never in a million years did I think 40 would look like this. But here it is. Where a few weeks ago, I wasn't making any plans for 40, because I so thought I would be pregnant, now I have plans to make.
So I'm going to Baltimore the weekend after my birthday, for my usual round of visiting. And Bubbles is making all sorts of plans -- I just have to show up. A day at the spa, fancy dinner out. And lots of drinks. Finally, something to look forward to.
My friend at work (who has several children through foster care) told me about identical twin boys to be born this summer. The mother has four toddlers (4, 3, 2 and 13 months) -- all in foster care. DSS isn't sure what the plan is for the babies. As Charlie was telling me, the woman who has the other four kids can't take two more. And the mother, if she doesn't have her babies right from birth to bond with them, doesn't want them.
She wants her 4-, 3-, and 2-year olds back, but not the baby. Because he was taken away from her as soon as he was born. She doesn't feel a connection with him. She doesn't have any bond with him.
So I called DSS, one of the women who taught the classes I was in last spring, and left a message. It was very generic -- just that I wanted to touch base, let her know where things were in my life, etc. She passed me off to someone else, who specifically handles adoption.
And when the adoption guy and I finally connected, I asked very specific questions about this woman who is pregnant with twins and doesn't have custody of her other four children. I knew more about the situation than he did. He didn't have a whole lot to say. They're not sure of what the plan is when she gives birth, if the twins can't go with the other four, the goal is still family reunification, can I do that?
I was honest. I told him no. These women give birth to throw away children, I'm not going to help them get their kids back. But knowing a lot about the situation, knowing how she feels after giving birth and giving up immediate custody, I'm willing to take the chance that she would get her kids back. He appreciated my honesty, and of course because of the business he's in, he can't agree with me.
I understand the premise of DSS. I understand why we have Child Protective Services. I do. I get it. And I understand that people makes mistakes, that there are circumstances.
But in the case of the kids that Charlie has -- a 4-year-old and a 3-year-old who have been in Charlie's care for more than two and a half years; and their 2-year-old twin sisters who have been with Charlie all but six months of their lives. (not to mention the three teenagers she has lost permanent custody of and who live with their grandmother). And then this other case -- four toddlers and now soon-to-be-born twins. They've been in foster care since last January. The baby has never been in the custody of his mother.
It's a fucked up world we live in. I can't get pregnant, I can't have a child, and these women are getting pregnant more often than Michelle Duggar. Explain the logic. Explain the fairness.
And my frustration is more than at these women, it's at the system, as well. So my conversation with the adoption guy, after he said he would talk with the woman I had called in the first place, I asked what my next steps should be. "Will you call me after you talk to her? Will she call me? Or should I check in with you or her in, say two weeks?"
He didn't know how to answer that. He's not sure what the birth plan is for the twins. "Well, they're due to be born in June. And they're twins, so she may go early...." My voice was trailing off, because I needed to keep my composure, but when the fuck were they planning to figure it out. It's March.
"Yeah, I'm really not sure what to tell you. We'll keep in mind that you're interested in these boys, and add you to the list."
And so that's that? WTF? No wonder people have the opinion of DSS that they have. I know they are understaffed, underpaid, over burdened. But here I am, wanting to do something, to help two children.
It's a frustrating place to be, for sure.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Cleaning House
I know that many people wouldn't have done this so quickly, but I like things in order. I like things I can control (probably why the past three years have been so fucking hard). And so Friday afternoon, after I got plowed out from the 18 inches of snow that fell the previous evening and that morning, I went to Wal-Mart and bought a shredder.
I stood at my kitchen counter and threw away all open medicine, packing up whatever was unopened to be donated. And then I pulled out my binder and shredded every piece of paperwork from the doctor and related to prescriptions. I did save my ultrasound pictures and every picture of my embryos.
I pulled the two bins of maternity clothes out of the extra bedroom and put them in garbage bags, ready to bring back to my niece the next day. And the books I pulled from the shelf on Thursday got put into a bag and dropped off at the library book sale. Jill's fertility statue that has sat on my bedroom television since the summer of 2007 is wrapped in paper, in a bag, and ready to go back to her house. And this morning, I handed Heather a $50 gift card for Motherhood Maternity.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm not getting pregnant. I don't need it."
"Are you sure?" she repeated.
I'm sure. It's all gone. Any reminder of trying to get pregnant. Any planning that I did -- premature or otherwise -- is undone. My kitchen counter is void of needles, syringes, bottles of pills, and vials of progesterone in oil. My bathroom sink no longer holds my daily allotment of progesterone suppositories and the applicators.
I pulled my adoption paperwork out and immediately was over whelmed. Jill promised to come over early next week and help me sort through it.
And last night as I was laying in bed, trying to fall back asleep, I finally figured out what has perhaps been bugging me about international adoption. And "bugging" might be the wrong word. But I have been hesitant. And I've wondered if it's because of the race thing, but that's not it.
If someone handed me an African-American baby tomorrow, I would be thrilled. So why am I hesitant about adopting from Ethiopia? I think it's because if I'm going to spend all this money, if I'm going to take out a loan and drain my savings to the grand total of more than $25,000, I want a choice. I don't want to be told where I have to adopt from.
Just because I'm single, does that make me any less of a person? Will that make me any less of a parent? Apparently, in the eyes of almost every country in the world, it does.
And so just as I couldn't control what my body would and wouldn't do over the past few years, I can't control this. And the sooner I accept that part of it, and worry about what I can control -- saving money, raising money, getting all my paperwork in, continuing to work on me, getting back to the gym and wanting to do good things for my body -- the better off I will be, both physically and mentally.
I stood at my kitchen counter and threw away all open medicine, packing up whatever was unopened to be donated. And then I pulled out my binder and shredded every piece of paperwork from the doctor and related to prescriptions. I did save my ultrasound pictures and every picture of my embryos.
I pulled the two bins of maternity clothes out of the extra bedroom and put them in garbage bags, ready to bring back to my niece the next day. And the books I pulled from the shelf on Thursday got put into a bag and dropped off at the library book sale. Jill's fertility statue that has sat on my bedroom television since the summer of 2007 is wrapped in paper, in a bag, and ready to go back to her house. And this morning, I handed Heather a $50 gift card for Motherhood Maternity.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm not getting pregnant. I don't need it."
"Are you sure?" she repeated.
I'm sure. It's all gone. Any reminder of trying to get pregnant. Any planning that I did -- premature or otherwise -- is undone. My kitchen counter is void of needles, syringes, bottles of pills, and vials of progesterone in oil. My bathroom sink no longer holds my daily allotment of progesterone suppositories and the applicators.
I pulled my adoption paperwork out and immediately was over whelmed. Jill promised to come over early next week and help me sort through it.
And last night as I was laying in bed, trying to fall back asleep, I finally figured out what has perhaps been bugging me about international adoption. And "bugging" might be the wrong word. But I have been hesitant. And I've wondered if it's because of the race thing, but that's not it.
If someone handed me an African-American baby tomorrow, I would be thrilled. So why am I hesitant about adopting from Ethiopia? I think it's because if I'm going to spend all this money, if I'm going to take out a loan and drain my savings to the grand total of more than $25,000, I want a choice. I don't want to be told where I have to adopt from.
Just because I'm single, does that make me any less of a person? Will that make me any less of a parent? Apparently, in the eyes of almost every country in the world, it does.
And so just as I couldn't control what my body would and wouldn't do over the past few years, I can't control this. And the sooner I accept that part of it, and worry about what I can control -- saving money, raising money, getting all my paperwork in, continuing to work on me, getting back to the gym and wanting to do good things for my body -- the better off I will be, both physically and mentally.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Toxic
My uterus is the place where healthy, viable embryos go to die. There's no other explanation. It really is the only explanation, and honestly, it's what I have to believe or I will think that there's something more I can do, something else I can try, when really I have to believe that I've done all I can and it's time to move on.
The finality of that is frightening, because it makes me wonder if it will ever really happen.
I have to move on to plan B. And I will have to get my head wrapped around the fact that I won't ever be pregnant. I won't ever feel a life move inside of me. I won't ever experience the look that other people give a pregnant woman. I won't hear that there's a glow about me. Or that I'm carrying low (or high). Or that I'm breaking out because I'm having a girl and she's stealing my beauty.
I won't experience labor or delivery. And almost certainly, I will not hear the first sounds my baby ever makes.
I pulled pregnancy books off my shelf last night and piled them at the top of the stairs, not sure what to actually do with them. I have bins of maternity clothes to return to my niece, including some that have been bought specifically for me, just in case. And I have a $50 Motherhood Maternity gift card to do something with.
When I started this process with the egg donor, I went in thinking I would have at least three chances. Given the number of embryos they had previously extracted from Ginger, I thought the odds were in my favor. Even when I heard that there were (only) six embryos, I thought that I would have two chances.
Over the past nine days, I tried not to think about what FG had said about the remaining embryos when I asked if we were freezing those. I tried not to think about "if they're viable."
And so after 13 tries, it really is over. And it's time to move onto Plan B. Whatever that is. However that looks.
The finality of that is frightening, because it makes me wonder if it will ever really happen.
I have to move on to plan B. And I will have to get my head wrapped around the fact that I won't ever be pregnant. I won't ever feel a life move inside of me. I won't ever experience the look that other people give a pregnant woman. I won't hear that there's a glow about me. Or that I'm carrying low (or high). Or that I'm breaking out because I'm having a girl and she's stealing my beauty.
I won't experience labor or delivery. And almost certainly, I will not hear the first sounds my baby ever makes.
I pulled pregnancy books off my shelf last night and piled them at the top of the stairs, not sure what to actually do with them. I have bins of maternity clothes to return to my niece, including some that have been bought specifically for me, just in case. And I have a $50 Motherhood Maternity gift card to do something with.
When I started this process with the egg donor, I went in thinking I would have at least three chances. Given the number of embryos they had previously extracted from Ginger, I thought the odds were in my favor. Even when I heard that there were (only) six embryos, I thought that I would have two chances.
Over the past nine days, I tried not to think about what FG had said about the remaining embryos when I asked if we were freezing those. I tried not to think about "if they're viable."
And so after 13 tries, it really is over. And it's time to move onto Plan B. Whatever that is. However that looks.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Waiting Game
I feel at peace tonight. Or maybe I'm just trying to convince myself that I am at peace. Either way, it's going to be a long night.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
And now the terror sets in
Okay, maybe terror is a little strong.
But with still some waiting time before my blood test, I'm starting to get scared. What will I do if it's negative? I don't know if they were able to freeze the other three embryos. And I kind of don't want to know until after the test. No need to add one more thing to my list of bad thoughts if they weren't.
Luckily I have an afternoon full of meetings today and through to blood test day. Hopefully that will keep my mind from wandering too far down a dark road.
But with still some waiting time before my blood test, I'm starting to get scared. What will I do if it's negative? I don't know if they were able to freeze the other three embryos. And I kind of don't want to know until after the test. No need to add one more thing to my list of bad thoughts if they weren't.
Luckily I have an afternoon full of meetings today and through to blood test day. Hopefully that will keep my mind from wandering too far down a dark road.
Seems Fishy
My sister-in-law told me this morning that when you dream of fish, you're pregnant. It happened to her before she knew she was pregnant with Tiff, and it happened to a friend of hers.
I did a quick google search. And while there were many who wrote this off as an old wives' tale, completely false, there were others who were convinced:
The "fish dream" happens to me when i concieve... u?
im convinced that dreaming of fish is in fact a way to know if someone is pregnant...
everytime ive been preggers i always got the fish dream right around the time i concieved (only been preggers 2 times) but each time i had a weird dream about fish.... and its the only time i dream of fish
yes every time Ive conceived ive had dreams of fish or relatives would have those same dreams. I had a dream about fish and found out my cousin was pregnant, then my sister had a similar dream and found out that i was so that's weird but SO true. works every time.
So either, I am, as my "dream" told me the other night, or it's merely that I know someone who is pregnant. And if you're someone who is trying to get pregnant, it's not hard to know someone who is pregnant. The world seems full of pregnant women.
I did a quick google search. And while there were many who wrote this off as an old wives' tale, completely false, there were others who were convinced:
The "fish dream" happens to me when i concieve... u?
im convinced that dreaming of fish is in fact a way to know if someone is pregnant...
everytime ive been preggers i always got the fish dream right around the time i concieved (only been preggers 2 times) but each time i had a weird dream about fish.... and its the only time i dream of fish
yes every time Ive conceived ive had dreams of fish or relatives would have those same dreams. I had a dream about fish and found out my cousin was pregnant, then my sister had a similar dream and found out that i was so that's weird but SO true. works every time.
So either, I am, as my "dream" told me the other night, or it's merely that I know someone who is pregnant. And if you're someone who is trying to get pregnant, it's not hard to know someone who is pregnant. The world seems full of pregnant women.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
I'm Pregnant, So Say the Signs
I am. It's five days until my blood test, but I am. I know it.
I had a hard time sleeping Friday night, was flipping through the channels, watching things I wouldn't normally watch. And then finally fell back asleep two hours later, about 5:30am (Saturday morning).
And then I felt what I can only describe as the sensation of someone running their finger down my back. Slowly, but from inside of me. It happened four or five times. And in my mind, I could see a fish.
A little background. Two weeks ago, my sister-in-law's sister passed away from brain cancer. She loved to fish. Debbie has seen "signs" from her sister in random things -- a rainbow and the shape of a fish from the sun hitting my niece's cell phone in the car.
I had this in my mind Friday night. I was thinking about the upcoming Relay for Life, and how I would draw a fish with a rainbow on it for the little bag for the candles they line the race track with that I would buy in honor of Denise.
Back to the wee hours of Saturday morning. I knew it was Denise. I don't know why she would come to me, but she did. And I asked her if I was pregnant. And suddenly, my entire body was awash with warmth.
(This happened to me once before. In 1994, after my grandmother died. I missed her so much. And one night, she came to me. And I felt that warmth over my entire body.)
And so for whatever reason -- because Debbie needs something good to happen, and she's been wishing, and hoping and praying right along with me these past three years for a pregnancy to take or because maybe the most recent person you know who has died suddenly becomes your guardian angel when needed. For whatever reason, Denise came to me that night. And I felt her warmth when I asked her if I was pregnant.
And so now, after having a few days to think about it, and talking to one of my other Catholic friends, I only describe what I'm feeling not as a crisis of faith, more like a crisis of faith in myself. Do I believe in myself enough to trust what I experienced? To believe what I believe it meant?
I had a hard time sleeping Friday night, was flipping through the channels, watching things I wouldn't normally watch. And then finally fell back asleep two hours later, about 5:30am (Saturday morning).
And then I felt what I can only describe as the sensation of someone running their finger down my back. Slowly, but from inside of me. It happened four or five times. And in my mind, I could see a fish.
A little background. Two weeks ago, my sister-in-law's sister passed away from brain cancer. She loved to fish. Debbie has seen "signs" from her sister in random things -- a rainbow and the shape of a fish from the sun hitting my niece's cell phone in the car.
I had this in my mind Friday night. I was thinking about the upcoming Relay for Life, and how I would draw a fish with a rainbow on it for the little bag for the candles they line the race track with that I would buy in honor of Denise.
Back to the wee hours of Saturday morning. I knew it was Denise. I don't know why she would come to me, but she did. And I asked her if I was pregnant. And suddenly, my entire body was awash with warmth.
(This happened to me once before. In 1994, after my grandmother died. I missed her so much. And one night, she came to me. And I felt that warmth over my entire body.)
And so for whatever reason -- because Debbie needs something good to happen, and she's been wishing, and hoping and praying right along with me these past three years for a pregnancy to take or because maybe the most recent person you know who has died suddenly becomes your guardian angel when needed. For whatever reason, Denise came to me that night. And I felt her warmth when I asked her if I was pregnant.
And so now, after having a few days to think about it, and talking to one of my other Catholic friends, I only describe what I'm feeling not as a crisis of faith, more like a crisis of faith in myself. Do I believe in myself enough to trust what I experienced? To believe what I believe it meant?
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
They're In....
and the wait begins.
I had my transfer yesterday. There are three beautiful embryos in there, all in the blastula stage (the next stage of embryo development). I'll take that as a good sign.
I'm trying to stay positive, to have good thoughts about what could be happening in my body. But I've never been on the other side of this, so I can only recall the bad stuff.
I try to block those memories out with images of me holding a swaddled baby in the crook of my arm from a hospital bed. Or running like an airplane, with my arms spread straight out, chasing a toddler with red curls. Or me in my 7th or 8th month of pregnancy, fat and happy.
I went to see my friend April, to meet her two-week-old baby today. I was hoping for some good baby mojo from Elliott. I held him the whole two hours I was there. Changed his diaper and his onesie. Fed him. Watched him sleep. And looked his 10 perfect, tony fingers.
Even though April and I talked about yesterday, it was nice to think about yesterday. To think about the blood test. To think about what happens after the blood test.
I had my transfer yesterday. There are three beautiful embryos in there, all in the blastula stage (the next stage of embryo development). I'll take that as a good sign.
I'm trying to stay positive, to have good thoughts about what could be happening in my body. But I've never been on the other side of this, so I can only recall the bad stuff.
I try to block those memories out with images of me holding a swaddled baby in the crook of my arm from a hospital bed. Or running like an airplane, with my arms spread straight out, chasing a toddler with red curls. Or me in my 7th or 8th month of pregnancy, fat and happy.
I went to see my friend April, to meet her two-week-old baby today. I was hoping for some good baby mojo from Elliott. I held him the whole two hours I was there. Changed his diaper and his onesie. Fed him. Watched him sleep. And looked his 10 perfect, tony fingers.
Even though April and I talked about yesterday, it was nice to think about yesterday. To think about the blood test. To think about what happens after the blood test.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The gifts of fertility
With Ginger going under tomorrow for her retrieval, I started to mentally prepare for my procedure next week and what I will be bringing with me. And that got me thinking about the gifts and encouragement that my friends have given me over the past three years.
My friend Jill, who has been my rock, my chauffeur, my shoulder to cry on, and my hand to squeeze, bought me a beautiful set of rosary beads in Jerusalem. I use the beads every week before mass. And at the start of this journey, she loaned me a fertility statue she got in Africa. It has sat on top of the television in my room.
After my miscarriage last year, I packed it up and had it in a small shopping bag, on my counter ready to go back to her. But something stopped me. I was in it for the long haul, the statue would be too. It is back on top of the television, and perhaps, in thinking about it, I will move it closer to the bed tonight.
My friend Jennifer, who has three children via IVF, told me about praying to St. Gerard. I immediately went out and bought myself a medal, which I've worn on my chain with my diamond pendant. And I have a prayer card that I keep in my wallet.
St. Gerard, the patron saint of fertility and motherhood, was with my friend April when she underwent her IVF procedure. She gave birth to a beautiful little boy a week ago.
Heather gave me a a heart-shaped pin with the word "faith" on it in several languages. She said her baby pulled at it at the check-out counter while they were shopping, and she took that as a sign. I have it pinned to the size 12-month Derek Jeter t-shirt that I bought myself almost 15 years ago. And usually both of those go with me to the doctor's office.
Bubbles has gotten me countless gifts, not only for the impending pregnancy that she has total faith will happen, but the eventual birth. A maternity dress, a gift card for Motherhood Maternity -- both of which I considered and contemplated giving away to various friends when I heard of their pregnancies. But something always stopped me.
And for the baby -- a picture frame for the baby's hand prints, tiny little sneakers, books. All of which are in my baby box waiting for the tiny little body to use them.
And Hope and Claudia, who have wiped away tears and said nothing when I just needed someone to be in the room. Who have been just as excited as I am about each little step of the process, who always remember to ask after a doctor's appointment.
My mom, who doesn't always quite understand the process or the terms, who sometimes is a little over-anxious about results, from day one, has never wavered in her support or excitement over the prospect that her daughter is intentionally going to be a single mother.
Two of my nieces and my sister-in-law, who have given me maternity clothes or picked up a little book here or clipped a magazine article there.
So many friend have been so supportive, and while I have complained in the past about the lack of support from most of my siblings, the ones who have been are unbelievably a part of the process.
I guess my point of today's post is not only for me to recognize and be thankful for the little gifts and the people in my life, but to remind you that no matter how much they drive you crazy, you're lucky for the people in your life.
My friend Jill, who has been my rock, my chauffeur, my shoulder to cry on, and my hand to squeeze, bought me a beautiful set of rosary beads in Jerusalem. I use the beads every week before mass. And at the start of this journey, she loaned me a fertility statue she got in Africa. It has sat on top of the television in my room.
After my miscarriage last year, I packed it up and had it in a small shopping bag, on my counter ready to go back to her. But something stopped me. I was in it for the long haul, the statue would be too. It is back on top of the television, and perhaps, in thinking about it, I will move it closer to the bed tonight.
My friend Jennifer, who has three children via IVF, told me about praying to St. Gerard. I immediately went out and bought myself a medal, which I've worn on my chain with my diamond pendant. And I have a prayer card that I keep in my wallet.
St. Gerard, the patron saint of fertility and motherhood, was with my friend April when she underwent her IVF procedure. She gave birth to a beautiful little boy a week ago.
Heather gave me a a heart-shaped pin with the word "faith" on it in several languages. She said her baby pulled at it at the check-out counter while they were shopping, and she took that as a sign. I have it pinned to the size 12-month Derek Jeter t-shirt that I bought myself almost 15 years ago. And usually both of those go with me to the doctor's office.
Bubbles has gotten me countless gifts, not only for the impending pregnancy that she has total faith will happen, but the eventual birth. A maternity dress, a gift card for Motherhood Maternity -- both of which I considered and contemplated giving away to various friends when I heard of their pregnancies. But something always stopped me.
And for the baby -- a picture frame for the baby's hand prints, tiny little sneakers, books. All of which are in my baby box waiting for the tiny little body to use them.
And Hope and Claudia, who have wiped away tears and said nothing when I just needed someone to be in the room. Who have been just as excited as I am about each little step of the process, who always remember to ask after a doctor's appointment.
My mom, who doesn't always quite understand the process or the terms, who sometimes is a little over-anxious about results, from day one, has never wavered in her support or excitement over the prospect that her daughter is intentionally going to be a single mother.
Two of my nieces and my sister-in-law, who have given me maternity clothes or picked up a little book here or clipped a magazine article there.
So many friend have been so supportive, and while I have complained in the past about the lack of support from most of my siblings, the ones who have been are unbelievably a part of the process.
I guess my point of today's post is not only for me to recognize and be thankful for the little gifts and the people in my life, but to remind you that no matter how much they drive you crazy, you're lucky for the people in your life.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Fertile Mertyl
Or, in this case, fertile Ginger. I got the update today that there are 12 to 15 good follicles and she is ready. The retrieval is scheduled for Thursday, and I will most likely have my transfer on Tuesday (though it could be Monday).
Wednesday I stop some of my meds and start up a whole bunch of new ones, including the blood thinner shot in my stomach and the two-inch needle of progesterone in my ass, and I get to add a vaginal suppository to my twice daily ritual. Good times.
I have a ton of meetings this week -- no less than four a day. But next week? Nothing on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday. So whichever day it is, I'm good to take off that day and the next if I want.
Everything seems to be falling into place. I'm excited and scared, as always. But I think this time, more excited than scared. The odds are with me, right?
Wednesday I stop some of my meds and start up a whole bunch of new ones, including the blood thinner shot in my stomach and the two-inch needle of progesterone in my ass, and I get to add a vaginal suppository to my twice daily ritual. Good times.
I have a ton of meetings this week -- no less than four a day. But next week? Nothing on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday. So whichever day it is, I'm good to take off that day and the next if I want.
Everything seems to be falling into place. I'm excited and scared, as always. But I think this time, more excited than scared. The odds are with me, right?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Gracias, Merci, Danke....
Dear Ginger,
I have been through what you are now going through -- the bloating, the daily shots in the stomach, the doctor appointments and blood work every other day. And I went through it because I knew it would ultimately be worth it, it was what I needed to do to fulfill my dream.
But for you to go through it for a stranger...
Words cannot express how grateful I am for what you're doing.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
--L
I have been through what you are now going through -- the bloating, the daily shots in the stomach, the doctor appointments and blood work every other day. And I went through it because I knew it would ultimately be worth it, it was what I needed to do to fulfill my dream.
But for you to go through it for a stranger...
Words cannot express how grateful I am for what you're doing.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
--L
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Getting Closer
I had my baseline U/S yesterday. Everything looked good. My lining is thinning and ready to be pumped up whenever Ginger is ready to be super ovulator. I will stay on the Lurpon shots every night this week, and wait hear how her appointment goes on Friday.
One year ago tomorrow, I saw my baby's heartbeat. I'm trying not to think sad thoughts, and I think I'm succeeding. I'm remembering my angel baby, and I'm hoping that he (just a feeling that it was a he) is going to do his part to help this next pregnancy attempt.
One year ago tomorrow, I saw my baby's heartbeat. I'm trying not to think sad thoughts, and I think I'm succeeding. I'm remembering my angel baby, and I'm hoping that he (just a feeling that it was a he) is going to do his part to help this next pregnancy attempt.
Friday, January 15, 2010
I'm Fragile
I thought I was doing so well. Being positive. Not obsessing, but thinking positive pregnancy and baby thoughts every day.
This morning, I got a phone call from the doctor's office. Ginger has a cyst. She will continue on Lupron and it should dissolve on its own. She goes back next Friday for another U/S. I will still go in on Monday for my baseline and continue on the Lupron until Ginger can start her next round of meds.
I was a little disappointed but Pati assured me that it wasn't a big deal, is a common occurrence, and if it doesn't dissolve on its own after a week or two on Lurpin, they will go in and drain it.
I took a deep breath and realized that this is only a short delay. I'm still moving forward.
Yesterday, I was feeling some pangs. Like I was getting my period. I ignored them. Then today, when I went to the bathroom, the tell-tale sign of my period starting. I ignored it again. There wasn't much. Could just be spotting.
And then tonight, I couldn't ignore it. I started to freak out. What was this going to do to the schedule? I emailed Pati (who is amazing and always gets right back to me) and basically told her I was freaking.
She wrote back within five minutes. "Don't worry, you're supposed to get your period!! We want your lining thinned out before we start you on Estrace to build it up."
And at that point, I started to cry. I went from thinking that, once again, my body was failing me again, to having hope. Deep breath.
This morning, I got a phone call from the doctor's office. Ginger has a cyst. She will continue on Lupron and it should dissolve on its own. She goes back next Friday for another U/S. I will still go in on Monday for my baseline and continue on the Lupron until Ginger can start her next round of meds.
I was a little disappointed but Pati assured me that it wasn't a big deal, is a common occurrence, and if it doesn't dissolve on its own after a week or two on Lurpin, they will go in and drain it.
I took a deep breath and realized that this is only a short delay. I'm still moving forward.
Yesterday, I was feeling some pangs. Like I was getting my period. I ignored them. Then today, when I went to the bathroom, the tell-tale sign of my period starting. I ignored it again. There wasn't much. Could just be spotting.
And then tonight, I couldn't ignore it. I started to freak out. What was this going to do to the schedule? I emailed Pati (who is amazing and always gets right back to me) and basically told her I was freaking.
She wrote back within five minutes. "Don't worry, you're supposed to get your period!! We want your lining thinned out before we start you on Estrace to build it up."
And at that point, I started to cry. I went from thinking that, once again, my body was failing me again, to having hope. Deep breath.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Dream a Little Dream
Over the course of the past two weeks, I've had four different dreams where I had a baby. There were no labor or pregnancy scenes. The baby was of varying age in each dream. Three of the four -- one little girl. Sweet and precious.
It felt right. And natural to hold a baby and know she was mine.
Last night, I had twins. They had just been born. A boy and a girl. Weirdly, the nurses "named them until I could Benjamin and Rahjima. No idea where that came from. I was struggling to remember the names I like right now.
I could remember Harper for the girl, but could only come up with Mason for the boy (which, I think, I've moved away from). And then I could actually go through the thought process in my dream. "They're both named after authors." And finally I came up with Cooper.
And then the nurse held hands in a circle (perhaps from my watching the season premiere of Big Love before bed) and told me my baby boy had leukemia. I was scared at first, and then, still in my dream, I thought, "they couldn't diagnose leukemia on a two-day-old. He doesn't have that." And that was that.
Obviously baby thoughts have invaded my subconscious. More than I thought.
I started my shots tonight -- 10cc of Lupron to suppress my hormones. Ginger has her baseline U/S on Friday, I go in on Monday.
I know I'll probably never meet her, but I think what's she is doing is amazing.
It felt right. And natural to hold a baby and know she was mine.
Last night, I had twins. They had just been born. A boy and a girl. Weirdly, the nurses "named them until I could Benjamin and Rahjima. No idea where that came from. I was struggling to remember the names I like right now.
I could remember Harper for the girl, but could only come up with Mason for the boy (which, I think, I've moved away from). And then I could actually go through the thought process in my dream. "They're both named after authors." And finally I came up with Cooper.
And then the nurse held hands in a circle (perhaps from my watching the season premiere of Big Love before bed) and told me my baby boy had leukemia. I was scared at first, and then, still in my dream, I thought, "they couldn't diagnose leukemia on a two-day-old. He doesn't have that." And that was that.
Obviously baby thoughts have invaded my subconscious. More than I thought.
I started my shots tonight -- 10cc of Lupron to suppress my hormones. Ginger has her baseline U/S on Friday, I go in on Monday.
I know I'll probably never meet her, but I think what's she is doing is amazing.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Two more days on BCP
I have through Tuesday on the pill, and I'm actually impressed with myself that I've been able to keep my emotions in check. My previous times (though it was for the entire three weeks, not two), I turned into a sobbing puddle of out-of-control tears, coming on for no conceivable reason. Hopefully, the next two days go the way the last 12 have.
I finally connected with Bubbles last night -- we hadn't talked since before Christmas -- and while it was good to catch up, it was hard to rehash all the hurt feelings from the Christmas drama. It also reminded me how glad I am that it's over and that I survived.
Yesterday was the first birthday party of my friend Heather's daughter. It was a fun day -- one that I didn't dread. I was home in time for football, and then spent the rest of the weekend watching football and doing some work. Yes, I've gotten into the habit of bringing work home on the weekend, but it's only because of the second job. It will not become a long-time habit.
And finally, I looked through the donor catalog and made a final decision on the sperm donor. I've decided to go with one different from the one I've been using, but I think he's one I've previously used.
I finally connected with Bubbles last night -- we hadn't talked since before Christmas -- and while it was good to catch up, it was hard to rehash all the hurt feelings from the Christmas drama. It also reminded me how glad I am that it's over and that I survived.
Yesterday was the first birthday party of my friend Heather's daughter. It was a fun day -- one that I didn't dread. I was home in time for football, and then spent the rest of the weekend watching football and doing some work. Yes, I've gotten into the habit of bringing work home on the weekend, but it's only because of the second job. It will not become a long-time habit.
And finally, I looked through the donor catalog and made a final decision on the sperm donor. I've decided to go with one different from the one I've been using, but I think he's one I've previously used.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Happy new year!
It's started. I got my period earlier in the week and started taking birth control pills on Tuesday. Counter-intuitive, I know, but I don't need to ovulate this month; Ginger is doing that for me.
And so the next steps in this process look like this:
Ginger starts on Lupron...1/9
I start on Lupron and stop BCP....1/12
Ginger has a baseline U/S...1/15
I have my baseline U/S....1/18
And it goes from there. And so for the next three weeks, I can take care of me and await for the transfer. I can stop looking at the negative, stop looking ahead, and try to live a week at a time.
And so the next steps in this process look like this:
Ginger starts on Lupron...1/9
I start on Lupron and stop BCP....1/12
Ginger has a baseline U/S...1/15
I have my baseline U/S....1/18
And it goes from there. And so for the next three weeks, I can take care of me and await for the transfer. I can stop looking at the negative, stop looking ahead, and try to live a week at a time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)