This blog is a secret for a reason Friday, Apr 3 2009 

Happy hour gone wrong:

It started with an innocent confession:

Me (tipsy at happy hour this evening) : I saw  an adorable baby on my commute today, and I wanted to steal her. (but I can’t post about it for fear that if a baby ever goes missing in my metro area the FBI will show up at my door asking questions of the infertile-of-a-certain-age-and-her-new-beautiful-child-of-questionable-parentage)

Friend: Do you really want a baby or just like the idea of a baby because they are quite a lot of work (let me be generous and mention that she is 5 years younger than me, and while supportive in theory, is proving to me by the minute that SHE DOESN’T GET IT)

Me: I know how much work a child is, and my interest in having one doesn’t discount the effort involved (it isn’t like you can tell me it’s hard and I will change my mind-Follistim injections, repeated blood draws, and vaginal ultrasounds for two weeks plus are hard, but that isn’t the issue. I feel like  Premature Ovarian Failure pretty much means my minutes are sliding away like a giant hourglass over my fucking head. Even if this isn’t an ideal time to have a child, I can’t ignore the biological reality of my eggs and their GIANT CLOCK.)

Friend: Well , you know if you need my eggs, that would be cool.

What the fuck do I say to this after 3 glasses of wine? The good girl in me wants to say thanks and march her directly to the clinic for  ovarian stimulation and retrieval before she sobers up and realizes the injections, discomfort, medical procedures, and risks  involved (but I’d freeze the embryos because I haven’t come to terms with donor eggs yet-I’m totally struggling, and for those of you who have wrestled with donor eggs, I’d be grateful for advice as I feel like I’m in denial.  A post on this issue is forthcoming-I realize I’m being trite, I don’t mean to trivialize the decision)

The pissed off infertile wants to give her a lecture on the intricacies of being barren. I’ve been through this before with well meaning friends. Sitting here in my happy hour state I can think of 3-4 friends plus my sister that have offered their eggs out-right. I believe my sister. Of the others, I think 1 (of the remaining))/3-4would probably step up, but even she might have regrets. To be honest, it is very possible that I’d be overwhelmed with offers if I let it be known that I needed donor eggs  (my friends are amazing, and I’m probably underestimating them, but I’m totally emotional about this, and I’m most likely underestimating their willingness to consider donation), but that isn’t the issue. Frankly, I’m fucking sick of fucking defending that  I  want children. I know this isn’t a new subject in the infertile blog world, and I think that’s why I’ve tried to avoid it until now, but I’m tipsy from happy hour and done with listening, nodding, and protecting the feelings of my would-be-feel-good-offering-without-thinking-it-through-donor-wannabes.

I want a baby. Why should I have to defend my reasoning? People have babies because they crave  a teeny mini-me through which to live their hopes and dreams. They get pregnant by accident. They have children because they think they are supposed to. Why do we have to justify our reasons? Like most couples that give family building a thought, we have a mix of selfish and altruistic justifications.

Dear Friend: Thank you for you offer, but please don’t make offers of such a personal nature that you can’t live up to. This is a very personal and sensitive situation. I know you mean well, but I’d rather have your true support and genuine comfort than an offer you will regret when sober. I love you, but you don’t get it.  Sometimes a well played, “I’m sorry it is so hard. Is there anything I can do to support you?” Is the best gift.

PS: Congrats  on the baby, Friend M. Your daughter is beautiful. I admit I’m deeply jealous but even more thrilled for you. I can’t wait until I have the chance to spend the afternoon with her and her brothers. I promise not to steal her….I think:)

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I don’t go to therapy to find out if I’m a freak Tuesday, Mar 31 2009 

Dar Williams, you have a song for everything.

I fired my therapist. Or we broke up. It feels a little like both. It’s cliche, but she wasn’t meeting my needs, and I think we have different goals in life. It’s been over a month since I’ve seen her, and I think I’m doing pretty well, but I mean that in the way that someone a little nuts means it when she manages to hold it together.

I think we might have spent almost as much time discussing our therapist-client relationship as we did talking about my other relationship complications, and the last thing I need is another relationship to deconstruct in a 50 minute hour.

To be frank, because after all part of what we worked on in therapy was my assertiveness, she was cold and, I suspect, a little judgmental. I spent more time qualifying my statements out of worry that she’d latch on to a small piece of the story rather than understand my whole point than I did spilling my deepest fears and darkest secrets.  I’m sure I’m at fault too, mostly for caring so much what she thinks about me, but isn’t that part of why I was there in the first place-to gain some self-confidence and not care what people think? Instead, she made me feel misunderstood and like more of a mess than I thought I was when I walked in.

I realized that it wasn’t me, it was her when I noticed that I always felt worse on my walk back to the office after therapy than I felt while walking (up hill, no less) to therapy, and after weeks and weeks of this I could no longer blame it on my excitement for the pizza that  I always grabbed to eat on my way there  ( it was a lunch time appointment). It was as if  I said, “My big toe hurts, ”

and she replied, “Wow, your toe looks awful, and actually your foot is kind of oddly shaped, oh…and now that I’m paying attention I should probably point out that your skeleton is deformed.”

and what I really needed was, “Oh, you poor courageous thing! That looks like it’s really sore. I’m so proud of you for finishing the marathon.”

So, I’m at a crossroads of sorts. I need to decide if it’s worth it to try to find a new therapist.

On the pro side of the equation: I’ve got issues, I really appreciate what a good-fit therapist can do to help me, I have been fighting some situational depression, my medical issues are depressing, several areas in my life are not functioning  how I want them to, and I would appreciate a professional’s assistance

Cons: There are few insurance-approved therapists in my area, and I’ve had really bad luck with the ones I tried (part of why I stayed with this one when I wasn’t thrilled was because she was competent unlike a few others), I’m not sure I have the energy to try to find another therapist, I’m even less sure I have the energy required to explain my complicated “issues”, scheduling-I don’t even have time to post and read blogs-time is precious

So, Dear Barren Spontaneous Habitual Aborters and Assorted Other Versions of Infertiles, what are your therapy thoughts? Experiences? Should I coast solo for a while? Get back in the ring? (What’s with all of my sporting analogies?) Is it worth the effort to keep looking for a good fit?

Opposite day Friday, Mar 20 2009 

Have you heard about these women that didn’t know they were pregnant until they went into labor?  Seriously? I didn’t watch the entire special since I’ve got better things to do like Fa.ceb.ook and on demand Big Love episodes, but the part I saw made me want to punch someone.

I suppose it is possible. They claim they didn’t gain weight or gained only a little. Still, I’ve never seen a pregnant woman that wasn’t clearly pregnant by the end. Did they get dressed in the dark? Do they not own a mirror?

Some of them didn’t get their periods very often to begin with or had light bleeding off and on throughout their silent gestating, but COME ON! A few women  didn’t get regular periods and thought that meant they couldn’t get pregnant.  One woman had an ovary surgically removed and assumed this meant she couldn’t get pregnant. Did that particular brainiac   think the other ovary would give up out of grief from the loss of its mate? Is this what years of abstinence only sex ed has  done to our youth?

I know why they are having symptomless pregnancies, because I’m having their pregnancy symptoms while not actually pregnant. It works out to an even amount of pregnancy symptoms and pregnant people in the world, and yet again I get to take one for the team. They get the baby. I get the nausea, huge, sore boobs, fatigue, and emotional distress. What. The. F.uck. My RE suggests that I need to back off my estrogen if I want to cut these symptoms, but then I’ll get hot flashes, insomnia, and other low estrogen side effects. I’m quite the little estrogen Goldilocks.

Something tells me I won’t be symptom free if I ever manage to get knocked up. Only clueless dumb-f.ucks get all the luck.

Civic duty Monday, Mar 9 2009 

The summons arrived the other day, but as with much of my life, I couldn’t be bothered with it immediately.

“You’ve been selected! ”

My mind flashed back to middle school gym where that phrase would have at once  thrilled me due to  the popularity implications and frightened me in anticipation of the impending injuries to self and others. But, it isn’t seventh grade volleyball; it’s JURY DUTY.

justiceUggg. Thanks to moving almost every year the majority of my 20’s I have, until now, avoided this particular right of passage. I know I try to be all mysterious, but fear not  Dear Readers, my relocations didn’t take place in the middle of the night or because I was on the lam; it isn’t like I was one step ahead of  a warrant.  I moved to attend several grad schools, and due to my uncanny ability to place myself in the path of danger, I was forced to evacuate following  natural and man made disasters. Thus, for a period of 5 years, I could fit the majority of my belongings in a compact car whose manufacturer has since been made obsolete due to an  embezzlement scandal- I know how to pick em!

I’m not anti jury duty. I realize the importance of giving back to my community, but the thing is, they won’t pick me. Due to my job there is no way I will be chosen for a jury. So, attending the cattle call is a huge exercise in futility and will cost me time as well as money since as a consultant, I don’t get paid if I don’t work, and thanks for the $4 daily stipend for my efforts, Oh Great City of Mine, but that doesn’t even cover my transportation.

You all know what this means, right? I have to get pregnant. Pregnancy is an automatic get-out-of-jury-duty-free card in my city; yet another thing the breeders have that we, the infertiles, don’t. Sigh. It’s the only responsible way to avoid my civic duty, save time, save money, save the hassle, and most importantly, save my legal karma.

Bring on the fertility drugs!

horse2

Thanks for the votes! Because the majrity of you told me to, and I appreciate it when I’m able to blame others for my decisions, we are planning on starting a cycle very soon. The logistics need to be worked out, but we are pretty much back on the horse…..or at the very least back in the barn. Details to come

Uncle Sam wants YOU to do fertility drugs Tuesday, Mar 3 2009 

My tax refund came. Interestingly, it’s just about enough to cover meds and copays for a stim cycle. Hmmmmmmmm

pros:

This is OBVIOUSLY a sign from a Higher Power (pick your Power!) that we should do a cycle, and dare I flaunt the will of said Higher Power?

It feels like bonus money

If it works I’ll have an easy answer to the question, “Where do I come from?” -My response : “The government”

Based on our track record this last year there’s never a good time to do this, so maybe we need to just take the plunge

I feel like I’m up against the POF clock and worried I’ve already missed my window of opportunity to use my dusty eggs

Cons:

M.aster.card would really appreciate the funds, and our financial situation has taken quite a hit along with the economy

HoneyBee’s schedule is abysmal, and I’m not sure we could even coordinate the GOFing

It will mean going in late to work a few times, and I love my new job and don’t want to jeopardize it

My health situation still isn’t exactly where I would prefer it to be before TTCing again (but my doctors have no problem with me trying)

What do you think?

fake it ’til you make it Monday, Nov 24 2008 

Like the tried and true advice from grandmothers everywhere, “If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all, ” I’m operating under the assumption  that since  I don’t have anything interesting to say I should just be silent. I’m feeling a bit blah in general. I think it has to do with the cold, overcast days, the lack of time with Honey Bee, and the knowledge that time is slipping away but we’re unable to move forward with more fertility treatments right now.

I’m not feeling the holidays yet. I’ve never been a RAH RAH HOLIDAYS YAY! kind of person, but I like the excuse to see family and friends and eat yummy treats (like mashed potatoes) and sleep and sit by a fire.  I need to perk up and practice my other favorite cliche piece of advice, “Fake it ’til you make it.”

So, in the spirit of “fake it ’til you make it,” I’m thankful for:

my sister’s mashed potatoes

red wine

family and friends

the fact that I have several family building options available to me (I’m looking at you, states that recently restricted adoption to married aka: heterosexual couples-kind, loving parents come in all sorts of packages, and we will be better off as a society once we recognize this)

the sunny vacation I’m planning in my head

sarcasm and inappropriate humor

Infertility Break Wednesday, Nov 5 2008 

I’m on a break from fertility drugs, pelvic ultrasounds, swollen ovaries, and timed sex. How come I can’t take a break from infertility? No matter what I do, it’s still there. In the corner. Waiting. Teasing.

Maybe if I did 456456747 minutes of meditation a a day (I’m so relaxed it’s stressing me out!), and took a vacation (can’t afford it, spent all my money on fertility drugs), and went back to acupuncture (see relaxed and broke), and gave up alcohol forever (from what I hear, I won’t manage the toddler years without access to copious amounts of wine if I ever do have children), and drank wheat grass (I still don’t know where to find this), and ate all organic, and cut out dairy-wait, !NEW RESEARCH STUDY ALERT!, now switch to full-fat dairy (good because I wasn’t ever going to give up the cheese anyway), and had perfectly timed orgasms to maximize the sperm being pushed through the cervix (now I need to be picky about when on top of if and how?), and and and and and and and ………….

and what if I did everything right and still no baby? Then I’d have no baby and be absolutely crazy too. Well, I’m already a little crazy. I just wish that when I’m not able to do anything about actively trying to have a baby I could turn off the wanting a baby. If my ovaries aren’t going to match my heart, could my heart take a break and copy my ovaries for a little while?

Holding… Tuesday, Sep 2 2008 

We are probably going to sit out the next few months of the fertility game. I kept thinking we would do another cycle next month (pretty much each month since June), and every few weeks something would come up that would make that particular month not work-my surgery, HoneyBee’s crazy work schedule, HoneyBee being sick, some big bills due, my other medical issues, traveling. There seemed to be some event or problem all summer. And then I talked to my rheumatologist last week and I decided to bite the bullet.

I’m going to try a new medication for the next few months and see how I’m doing with my auto-immune issues. If it doesn’t make a difference, I’m no worse off. If it does help, even better.

It’s hard. I hate that I need to postpone trying for a baby to try a medication. Well, I guess I don’t HAVE to, but it’s the responsible thing to do. I hate even more that I might have to weigh taking a medication while pregnant (granted, of all the meds this one seems well studied). I’m trying hard not to play the what if game and focus on each decision as it comes. I’m deciding to try the medication now. In 3 months we’ll decide if we should do a cycle. We’ll also decide if we stay on the med for the cycle etc. etc. One at a time. One at a time. I’m such a planner.

Oh, and yesterday I had super fertile cervical mucous. Way to fuck with my head, hormones! I call bullshit! Besides, HoneyBee is traveling for work, so it is all for naught. If I ovulate on my own for the first time in 10 years, and he missed it, I’ll be really cranky.