Accepting (and embracing?) infertility

As much as I want to think that I’ve got all of this infertility stuff under control and that the outcome isn’t going to break me if it’s not what I want, that’s just not the case.

As much as I want to live just one day without thinking about my childless state, that’s not possible.

Although I try to live my life as fully as I can, filling my days with work, projects at home, volunteer commitments, travel, time with friends and family . . . infertility is always there.

I work at having a positive and energetic attitude as if my life is good and as full as it can be. As if all is well. As if infertility is not ever-present.

I pretend that my life is about other things, but right now, it is about one thing – the ever narrowing window of opportunity to become a parent.

* * * * *

Days 'til FET: 19 . . . .
 
I had a breakdown today after church. My dear friend, the pregnant one who almost never comes to church, came today because it was Easter. She looked lovely and had the most adorable little baby bump, making it obvious to everyone that she is expecting. I wanted to talk with her after the service but she was quickly surrounded by people congratulating her. Hearing the excitement in their voices and seeing the hugs and smiles made me feel like someone had sucked all of the oxygen out of the room. It was a visceral reaction. I tried to stick around and smile and participate, but I found myself unable to speak. In slow motion, I walked away.

Our church has a sweet tradition of having a simple Easter egg hunt immediately following the service. It’s a nice opportunity for families and friends to linger in a beautiful area that looks like a garden –  full of azaleas, green grass, daffodils and tulips on the edge of a wooded forest – while the children hunt plastic eggs filled with candy. There were cute babies and children everywhere! And did I mention the cameras? It was like a photo shoot – all these families recording their memories. My dear friend worked the crowd, catching up with people and sharing her good news, and I’m sure, just drinking in the anticipation of this event next year when her baby will be about seven months old.

After an appropriate amount of time, I was able to get to my car and head home. I’m not sure I was out of the parking lot before the tears started to flow. And then the sobs came.

For me, the most difficult part of all of that was watching people react to my friend’s news. I know they would be just as excited for me, should the day ever come. I think this was so challenging for me because the congratulatory reactions of people are the only thing I can truly imagine at this point. In my “Six Months At A Time” mindset, I don’t let myself think very much about actually having a baby. It still seems like a long shot.

I know how much love the people in our church have to give. I know how deeply they love my DH (he’s been a member of the church since the 1980s). I know how joyful they were when I came into his life and he got a second chance for a truly happy life. I yearn to be able to answer the question, “How are you doing?” with something authentic rather than a load of bullshit about how work is oh-so crazy busy. I’m so tired of having my guard up at church. If we ever get pregnant, maybe I can actually have some real relationships.

Sorry to be so negative. . . . But it feels good to be honest.

* * * * *

A strange new thought occurred to me tonight -- the idea that I need to embrace infertility. Accept that it is part of my life. And think about ways to acknowledge it, to show it some respect. Not that I want it to be so welcome that it wants to stay longer (because infertility has already worn out her welcome in my house). But the idea of making peace with infertility's presence is appealing. I'll be thinking about this in the coming days.

Back on track

Well, I forgot to post an update that AF did finally arrive -- and in time to keep things on schedule. I started BCPs the other day and today I start Lupron, too. I've never done a frozen transfer so this is all new to me.

I haven't had a lot to write about, which is why I haven't, but I feel like posting a few random things. Here goes . . .

We are moving forward on our backyard project and I'm getting really excited. The contractor we've chosen has caught on that we want to move quickly. In a private conversation, I explained the birthday celebration idea (DH is turning 50 Memorial Day weekend) and the contractor all but guaranteed me they could get it done in time. He also is reasonable about our budget and wants to do everything he can to get as much done as possible for that amount. I like that. In contrast, one of the guys we didn't pick -- from a company with a slick web site and small but very nice showroom -- wanted us to pay more than $3,000 to go through a master planning phase, after which we would determine how much we could do within our budget and how long it would take. As much as I know those people would do excellent work, there's no way I was going there. They were selling a Mercedes and I need a Volkswagen.

We are taking a bold step in this project just for our frozen embryos -- we are regrading a grassy area of the backyard for a play area. Sound completely insane? Don't worry, we aren't installing a swing set... And the regrading sort of needs to be done anyway to control water that flows down and wreaks havoc on the rest of the yard (that's what got us into this mess to begin with). Plus, it's just more practical to do it now as part of the big project. The area isn't visible from many windows in our home, so if the embryos never grow into running, playing children, it's not like I'll have to look at the flat grassy area every day and imagine them there. I hope. I guarantee you, if that happens, I will repurpose that space so it doesn't haunt me for the rest of my days.

*******

There are now three couples in our small church who are expecting. One couple is our really good friends and I'm quite excited for them. (I posted about our conversation with them several weeks ago when they shared the news with us and he tried to get me to yell and curse at him.) The other two couples I don't know well, but I'm happy for them, too. Getting it in my head that the alternative to being happy for someone who is pregnant is wishing they were infertile made it a lot easier for me to be happy for women I know who are pregnant. That doesn't mean I want to hang out with them and discuss every little detail of their pregnancies, but I don't find it upsetting to sit two rows behind them in church.

Speaking of church and pregnancies, we have the best pastor. When he found out about our good friends who are pregnant, he called DH to give him a heads up because he didn't want us to hear from someone else. DH assured him that we were some of the first ones to know after their families and that we've travelled the IF road with them for a few years now. I thought it was so kind that he made that call, though. He's looking out for us.

********

Work is going better. Feeling a little less like drudgery. Stressful days in relation to my colleague who's been diagnosed with breast cancer. We had a scare this week because after what was expected to be a simple procedure, they thought they'd discovered that it had spread and she would need chemo immediately. But with the pathology report that came in a few days later, they said chemo isn't necessarily needed just yet.

*****

Today's the first day in like 14 days when I didn't have to jump up first thing in the morning and go fulfill some kind of work-related or volunteer-related commitment. It's so wonderful! It's going to be a good day. There's nothing I absolutely have to do. This afternoon we are going to a six-year-old birthday party for my godson -- can't wait to see him, his sister and his mom and dad! Gotta run now to the pharmacy and pick up my Lupron.

I'd like to thank the Academy . . .

AmyG at When you gotta glow gave me an award earlier this week -- a first for me! Thank you, AmyG. You have been such an encouragement to me. I am still pretty new at what I will call "interactive blogging," and you've helped me get out there and connect with people.

Blogging has helped me deal with circumstances in better ways. For example, the other night, DH and I went to dinner and a basketball game with some friends. I love these friends, especially the wife, and seeing them is always a treat because we don't seem them very often. We always laugh a lot with this couple. During the past year and a half, the four of us have bonded over IF issues and they have both been very in tune with our IVF attempts. So over dinner, after asking all kinds of questions about our time in Denver -- and our declaration that if they want to try another IVF cycle, they should consider going out there -- here's what happened:

Him: We've got something to tell you.

Me: You're pregnant.

Him: Yes.

Me: Congratulations!

Him: Oh come on!  F*ck you! I know that's what you want to say.

Me: No, it's not. I'm happy for you guys!

Him (laughing): Go ahead. Curse at me. Do it!!

Me: No. That's really not how I feel. I've been working on this. I've actually been blogging and wrote something about being happy for people the other day. I really, really am happy for you.

And I was being genuine. Without this blog and the community of bloggers I've met here, I might not have been able to respond that way. We talked and talked about their pregnancy and our hopes for success and I even made a great discovery:  if I get pregnant, I can borrow her maternity clothes!  : )

Back to the award. It comes with rules:

1) Thank the person who nominated you for this award

2) Copy the award and place it in your blog
3) Link to the person who nominated you for this award
4) Tell us 7 interesting things about you
5) Nominate 7 bloggers and link to their blogs

So 7 things about me:
1. I have a black cat named Lucky. She is Lucky because I adopted her from a shelter.
2. There's a legend in my family that my grandfather eight generations back was an Indian chief who disowned his son because he married a white woman (my grandparents seven generations back). My mom's family is obsessed wih trying to substantiate this story.
3. DH and I have been married for two years, four months, and five days. We are so, so happy together.
4. In my 20s, I briefly went to nursing school and also completed about 35 hours toward a Masters of Divinity degree. Just couldn't figure out what to do with my life!
5. Until 2006, I had not travelled outside the U.S. beyond a brief excursion across the border to Mexico and a trip to Montreal and Quebec. Since 2006, I have been to England, Scotland, Costa Rica, Finland, Estonia, Sweden, France, Ireland, and Italy.
6. I can bake an awesome chocolate chess pie using my maternal grandmother's recipe. When I had to give up all caffeine (including chocolate) last November, I learned to bake a pecan pie using my paternal grandmother's recipe. It is awesome, too, if I may say so myself!
7. I love to read, especially during the summer months. One of my all-time favorite books is The Brothers K by David James Duncan.

Seven bloggers to nominate:
I am going to fail here. I am still so new to the blogosphere, I haven't even been follwing seven blogs. But here are a few, in addition to AmyG's When you gotta glow:

1. Pie at Slice of Pie, who is about a week or two ahead of me in all of this and one of my new friends in the blogosphere
2. Arminta at Life Family and the Pursuit of Sanity who just finished her first trimester and has the most adorable two-inch-long baby
3. Lynn at Wistful Girl, the only other Georgian I've encountered on here
4. Mo at Life and Love in the Petri Dish, who provided early encouragement for me to get engaged in the blogosphere, with her list of CCRM bloggers and her great CCRM stories

I've also been reading Mel's Stirrup Queens, but nominating her for this award would be like saying that perhaps Katharine Hepburn or Meryl Streep should be nominated for an Oscar. I'm sure she's already been awarded every award there is. I love reading her blog.

So that's about it. I'm really grateful for this community of courageous, hopeful and kind women.

Lunchtime thoughts

What follows is a really long post, most of which I composed today at work over lunch. I finished it up tonight. It may seem disjointed, but what can I say?

*****

The snow has melted and all is back to normal in the ATL.

I am feeling a bit melancholy today -- okay, more than a bit melancholy or I wouldn’t be writing about it on my lunch hour -- but I’m not sure exactly why. It really started over the weekend. When I have a problem, I want to fix it -- so I hate feeling this way. “This way” being down without the ability to pinpoint the source of the feelings (and thus the ability to fix it, and fast).

Feeling melancholy -- even depressed -- is not an unfamiliar feeling, but it is one that hasn’t been present much in the past several years. Five years ago? That’s a different story. I was a total mess. Recently divorced, stuck in a relationship I had no business in (and afraid to get out), and grieving the sudden loss of my dad. It took hours and hours and hours of therapy and some wonderful friends and family members to get me through that.

Just thinking about those days in 2005 makes me think, “Everything’s fine!” because by comparison, it is -- without a doubt!

Last night I told DH that I’m feeling some post-retrieval depression. That could be the source of my feelings. The excitement of a new cycle has passed. To this point, all has worked beautifully, but I won’t know for sure for four or five weeks when we get the genetic test results on our six embryos. I think I’m feeling some impatience and some frustration at the fact that I still don’t know what my life is going to be like.

This very much ties in with my feelings about my job. I’ve been in the same job for more than seven years now and while I love what I do, I believe deeply in my organization’s mission (I work for a nonprofit), and it continues to offer opportunities for growth, I would be dishonest if I didn’t say I probably would have moved on if I didn’t have like 12 weeks of sick leave (maternity leave) built up. If I leave, I lose it. If I find a job at another nonprofit, it’s probably not going to have paid maternity leave as a benefit. So some days I feel stuck. It stinks because sometimes it causes me to  lose perspective on why I want to have a baby. Not that I would necessarily quit my job if I had a baby. I actually plan to stay and enjoy the fact that I know my job and my organization well, which would make the transition into motherhood a little bit easier, without the pressure of learning a new job and juggling the myriad feelings of being a new mom with a career she’s passionate about. I'm pretty sure I will seek out that next opportunity if we end up childless. (I actually have a Plan B that involves a new job, another degree, an impractical car with only two doors, but that’s for another post.)

*****

In other depressing news, I learned that another woman at church is pregnant. I was thinking yesterday afternoon how odd it is that someone’s good news has the potential to create such a problem for me. Why should her happiness and good fortune have any bearing on how I feel about my own life? Why should the fact that she is pregnant NOW make me feel like I need to be pregnant just as soon as possible so I can be happy for her? Why can’t I just be happy for her now? And truly, when I put it that way, I am. I certainly wouldn’t wish IF on her. If this is what she and her husband want, then that’s great. And I mean, of course that’s what they want. That’s what just about every reasonably responsible adult wants, isn’t it? That’s the way the universe works. That’s what people do. They meet, fall in love, commit to each other, and naturally want to start their own family.

Why can’t it work that way for me?

Asking why is something I haven’t spent a lot of time on, because I don’t expect to ever find an answer. My IF is unexplained, except for the fact that I’m 39 now. There’s my explanation.

I’ve actually spent lots of time asking why my dad, who suffered a brain injury in 1996 (14 years ago tomorrow, as a matter of fact) and never walked or talked again, didn’t improve much cognitively, functionally, emotionally, you name it -- despite having great medical care, good physical therapists, and the best full-time nurse in the world (my mom). I’ve also spent time wondering why he didn’t die in the car accident. He certainly would not have suffered like he did. His injury robbed him of his career, his hobbies, his plans for retirement, his ability to bathe and feed himself, his ability to communicate, his sex life…. And pretty much left him with a nightmare of a life. But what he did have was a wife and two children and extended family members and friends who were absolutely devastated by his losses. People who stayed by his side to love and encourage him -- the new him.

When he died in 2005, I grieved the loss of the dad I had for 25 years and the dad I had come to know for the last nine years of his life. At first, I wanted him back either way I could get him -- it didn’t matter if he could only communicate by giving me a thumbs up or thumbs down to my yes/no questions, it didn’t matter if he had no quality of life -- but eventually, I accepted that he was finally at peace and I had to let him go. It has taken me five years to be “okay” with his absence. This past holiday season was the first one since his death when I thought, “Okay, I can do this. It’s going to be okay.”

I think if I’m going to ask why, I should think about my dad some more. Or think about the senseless loss of the Olympian from Georgia, who immediately lost everything while doing what he loved. Or I should think about Haiti or Huntsville, Afghanistan and Iraq.

The world is so full of why.

*****

Writing this immediately made me feel better this afternoon. Not that I ended on a cheerful note. But it was just the therapeutic act of writing, of getting it all out, of acknowledging my sad, impatient feelings and voicing my questions. It made it all bearable and took away much of my melancholy feeling. It’s still there, but I stopped feeling it with such intensity.

And then, I got home tonight and checked the blogs that I follow and saw that AmyG gave me an award! That’s so cool! Thank you very much, AmyG. This means I now have an assignment, but it will have to be completed later this week. It's late! 

I need this

It's been a rainy three-day weekend so I've allowed myself some time to check out other blogs about infertility. I had no idea there were so many! Everyone seems so interconnected. What a great community. I think I need this. Here's why:

I have a handful of close friends who know what I'm going through and are wonderfully supportive, but I don't talk to them every day or even every week.

I have some friends at work who know about our nearly three-year quest to become parents, but I have regretted confiding in at least one of them. I have cut that person out of the loop of information about all of this because she kept asking me repeatedly for the latest news. It became a problem for me because I am her supervisor. I know she means well, but I just don't want infertility to interfere with work. I have a demanding job and it's actually a great distraction from the stress of infertility (when I get to decide what and when I want to share). I really appreciate those colleagues who know what's going on but they NEVER bring it up first.

Another community that's important to me is my church, but it is honestly the most difficult part of my world when it comes to infertility. Most people there do not know what we're going through. It often doesn't make sense to me to be part of a caring community of people and to deliberately choose to not express the depth of the stress, the jealousy, the hopefulness, the hopelessness, the determination, the confusion, the doubt, the excitement and anticipation, the fear of another disappointment.... I know it's best to not share all of that -- or any of that -- because the church is probably full of quite a few well-meaning but nosy people like my coworker above. But I feel like such a fake.

Today at church I had to plaster a big smile on my face as I heard the latest new mother tell someone, "I counted and I think there have been 7 babies born in our church during the past few years" as people oohed and cooed over her beautiful new baby, which I had never laid eyes on until that moment. The most difficult part is that last May, we were pregnant together. She knows what my husband and I are going through. Our babies were going to be friends. But now, she has this beautiful baby and my little embryos didn't make it. (I don't believe she had any idea how her words stabbed into my heart. She is either sleep-deprived and oblivious or perhaps just slightly insensitive. I must choose to believe this if I'm going to function as a relatively healthy member of our church community.)

There are days when I wonder why I'm putting myself through this again. Today is one of them. I could've easily moved on and chosen adoption. IVF is so much work.

This is why I need this blog. If anyone is reading, please comment so I'll know. If no one comments, I'm going to have to work on figuring out how to make this an interactive experience for me. I want to engage with others in this community.