Ex Post Facto

Wiling away the hours...

I was petrified going into Thursday's OB appointment, scared that there would be no progress from my last exam three weeks ago because I swore up and down that I was having absolutely no contractions. Never even noticed a Braxton Hicks.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that I would indeed be able to schedule my induction because I am 2 centimenters dilated, 80% effaced, soft, anterior cervix and LC is at a 0 station. So unless she comes on her own - we are scheduled to go in for an induction the day after my due date - Thursday, 2/22 at 7:30 am. 

To pass the time this afternoon (and quite enjoyably I add), Himself and I ventured into the land of "Our Future Life" and went to Lily's 1st birthday.  Witness the glimpses into my future?  Mind boggling, really to see kids everywhere.  I swear they are like little Mogwai a la Gremlins - you see one at your feet, then you turn your head and 4 more appear.  Anyways, Happy Birthday Lily - you've been a great motivator with your silly smiles and awesome dance moves to help me muster through HG and get to my own February little girl.

Lily's Mom, Lora will be updating my blog when Leah Catherine makes her much anticipated debut.  So we're counting down here...

2dp5dt: Beth Noir

Unbounded optimisim and cheerfulness has left the building.  Hope tried to become a squatter here, but I booted that bitch out.  Yep, yours truly is back.

Himself, naive individual that he is, is convinced that it worked, as is everyone else in the free world that is privy to the details.  Do you have any idea how nauseous all this positiveness makes me?  Wanna know why?  'Cause I know better than to blindly believe in any of it.  Why?  'Cause I have seen it, over and over again happen to some of the best women in the world.  Perfect cycles and then it all goes to shit.  Great doubling betas, and then it all goes to shit.  What makes me any different than those women - not a damn thing.  Its all about luck, pure and simple.  Its not a meritocracy.  Its not a pay for performance set up.  Karma is not a factor in this equation.  It is or it isn't and I refuse to wax poetic about it.  Do I want it? Hell yes.  Do I deserve it?  Not more than anyone else. 

I said to a girlfriend earlier today that I wondered if my body had killed them yet and  she almost stroked out.  She was apalled that I could even think that way.  Am I just a twisted bitch or is this just what happens to the infertile mind?

I've already started formulating my plans should the negative ensue. It involves copious amounts of alcohol and a trip to Vegas.  9 days until the beta.

That religion thing

Having a diverse familial religious background (read: Judaism with some Catholic guilt thrown in, tempered by some pretty vanilla Protestantism) I consider myself to be a pretty open minded kind of person.  Amongst my closest friends, I have atheists, agnostics, Latter Day Saints, Pagans (read: nature based faiths, don't make the mistake of buying into the media hype),Buddhists, Muslims and Hindus in addition to the aforementioned.  Hell, I even have a minor in religion (so with that and $2 I can get a cup of coffee).  I am fascinated by what people believe vis-a-vis the order of the universe.

Myself, I seem to have done some cherry-picking from each of these faiths and developed my own interpretation of it all.  I tend to be very quiet about my beliefs, for they are that - mine.  Through recognizing and then trying to treat our infertility, I have had to really push my sleeves up and get dirty with trying to figure it all out in a way that reconciles with what I believe. I would never deign to say "accept our infertility", because I think that is truly impossible.  I don't think I can ever accept it - because to do so would allow it to define me in some way, or perhaps, admit defeat.  I will not give up, not having a child will never be acceptable as my destiny.  Yes, I am aware that how I get to being a mother may change - but I will never give up.

For awhile now I have retreated to mainly being an observer on the message board circuit and the predominant reason has been the religion thing.  I cringe when I read someone's exuberant words that they have been blessed. 

Why?  In the midst of their excitement they are implying that I have not been blessed and the connotation is that in some way, shape, or form I am not worthy of being blessed.  It makes my skin crawl.  Everytime I read those words I call to mind a fellow infertile who is hurting because things didn't work out that cycle or with their pregnancy and I inwardly scream, "oh so you're blessed, but what about XYZ" - did God(dess) change his/her mind?

You see, I can't accept that. I can't accept that a single one of us was ever intended to not be a mother if we so choose.  I can't believe that God (or insert deity of choice) has picked class pets.  I don't even buy the argument that God is trying to teach me a lesson through this.  Some women are able to reconcile that God is helping them to be more appreciative of their children when they do have them by forcing them to go through infertility. I respect that but I'm sorry, that just doesn't ring true for me. It smells an awful lot like a platitude.  I can't imagine that God has such ulterior motives.

Religion at its roots is a way for (wo)man to explain that which they cannot understand.  I do believe that it is integral to the human soul to believe in something, in whatever form that manifests.  However, please don't patronize me and tell me "to have faith, it will happen for me", because it might not happen - at least not in the way that is being implied.  At the end of the day, I think each of us has the right to believe whatever we may choose, but with that choice comes the onus of being respectful.

I am curious to hear your thoughts - what is your take on it all?  Please don't hesitate to tell it like it is for you.  I welcome the opportunity to see where each of you is at with the relationship between infertility and your beliefs. Has it been hard to reconcile your faith with your experiences?  Have you grown spiritually because of it?

In other news, I want to thank each of you for your warm comments yesterday. Oh yeah, I have this little thing called a fertilization report.  Of the 19 retrieved, 12 were ICSI'ed, resulting in 8 embryos.  Seven were allowed to attempt conventional fertilization and of those 5 fertilized and are dividing.  Once again, I am grateful (not blessed) for this fortuitous bit of news.  I have 13 embryos and I want them back now. 

What an odd thought - I have embryos.

Attack of the Meme

The gregarious Kitkat has snuck in and tapped me so here's how this one goes: 1. Go write 6 random or weird facts/things/etc. about yourself in my comment box and on your blog, then tag six more people! 2. Then leave a comment that says ‘You are tagged’ in their comments telling them to read your blog.

6 Random Things About Me

I. Earlier this week I went to a new dentist for a cleaning and checkup even though I already had a dentist's appointment with my current dentist. I cancelled the orignal appointment with Dentist Status Quo not once, but twice and then finally made an appointment (and followed through) with Himself's dentist. Why? I couldn't bear the thought of being asked yet again if I was pregnant yet. Dentist Du Jour is blissfully ignorant about it all and I had no cavities either - not a bad appointment.

II. Last weekend I finally caved and purchased an iPod. I'm suprised it took me this long to finally make this purchase considering what a music addict I am. Hey, I needed something to help pass those interminable waits in the RE's office. The last 10 songs I have listened to this morning are:

1. Particle Man (They Might Be Giants)

2. Everybody Hurts (REM)

3. Add It Up (Violent Femmes)

4. My Humps (Black-eyed Peas)

5. Do Fries Go with that Shake? (George Clinton)

6. Crimson and Clover (Tommy James & The Shondells)

7. Laid (James)

8. Stella Blue (Grateful Dead)

9. Happy Hour Hero (moe.)

10. know now then (Ani DiFranco)

III. I've always wanted to publish a book, in fact I have 2 manuscripts that I've completed - but I don't think anyone would want to publish it or read it. Its awfully egocentric.

IV. Remember the Sex and the City episode about Secret Single Behavior? Well, my favorite trivial thing to do is to pay bills. I like the sense of knowing that I can afford to do it, because there was a time in my life (childhood) where food stamps played a role. I get such satisfaction from balancing my checkbook and then putting the stamps on the envelopes to send the bills out.

V. My biggest waste of money is hair products. I have naturally curly hair, so if it my hair stylist tells me that it will help straighten my hair or smooth the curls into submission - it ends up in my bathroom. I hate my hair - it takes up too much time in my life. Every morning I am envious when Himself steps out of the shower and is out the door while I am still battling my hair.

VI. I am obsessed with numbers and their patterns. The Fibonacci sequence, the Golden Ratio (phi), Ulam's Spiral, fractals, and things of that ilk.


Now who to annoy and force a blog post out of? Hmmm. Okay let's go with: Sunnie
What's Meant To Be
Fertility Faux Pas
A Simple Kind of Life
Jenny From The Infertility Block
Nina

Feel free to curse me for tagging each of you.

Original Comments

Move over St. Ambrose, now this is all about learning

Whenever I am confronted with a situation, I am often guilty of responding on an emotional level initially, but I always find that I try and gain perspective by imagining myself in that person's shoes. I try to think about where they are coming from, how they got to where they are - essentially, dig deeper to understand what is driving them. Usually I end up having understanding, although sometimes abstract and foreign to my own experiences, but through that understanding comes compassion.

Several years ago, I found myself at odds with my mother-in-law. Himself is by far the youngest of 3 siblings and as such will always be regarded as young, even when we are in our eighties. During a visit from the in-laws his mother made several snide comments about our building a family - comments that are better left to broad sketches. The main thrust of her diatribe at the dinner table focused on how we didn't need children then, because we were so "young" in her mind. Suffice it to say I was infuriated, and barely held my tongue. After they packed and left that Sunday afternoon, I hopped in the shower. Himself was sitting on the edge of the garden tub as I ruminated while washing my hair. Amazingly, I tried to put myself in this woman's shoes; this very same woman who had, short hours before, insulted our choices in my own dining room, while eating a gourmet meal that I had spent hours working on to please her. A tad bitter, perhaps?

You see, my mother-in-law married at 19. My father-in-law, a young Air Force pilot, was stateside long enough to get her pregnant before being deployed to Viet Nam again. Himself's eldest sister was born while he was deployed. Thirteen months later, my father-in-law returned and Himself's middle sister was conceived. Once again, my mother-in-law birthed alone, in a different city this time. Six years later, it happened again. Himself, Sr. was rising quickly through the ranks to the level of Colonel, so naturally he was gone yet again when Himself was born. So at a young age herself, my mother-in-law had three children that she raised essentially as a single parent. So you see, I do get it. I understand that she may have feelings that her youth was spent birthing and raising her babies alone. Consequently, perhaps even without it being a conscious thing, it is her staunch belief that you should wait to have children. Allow me to add that she also forgets exactly how old Himself and I are - shaving five years off at last count. So as much as she pissed me off, I understood what was driving her at some level. I said as much to Himself, adding that I highly doubt that she would ever stop for even a nanosecond to consider where I was coming from.

Therein lies the rub.

Now here's where it gets complicated. I am about to describe a situation that might provoke or even just damn well piss off some of my readers. What seems like ages ago (although it was only months ago) I talked about a group of women who I was very close to, all of whom were at various stages of the family building continuum. We have a mass email sort of communication set up among us.

I will admit that of late I sometimes skip the the pregnancy related conversation; first, because I have nothing to add that is beneficial and second, simply out of self preservation. Yet, you see, I love these women. We are all so different, but we have some sort of synchronicity that has bound us together. At the end of the day, we are simply friends and I have a feeling we will be for a long time to come. Owing to our friendship, I occasionally trudge my way through the pregnancy miscellania. I do care about what is going on in their lives and even though I need to experience it at arm's length and in small doses, I want to know. Sometimes, in retrospect, I wonder if a small degree of morbid curiosity factors into that.

Yesterday, I was feeling rather amiable (a stretch on a good day for crotchedy, bitchy me) and just dug right in to the latest in pre-natal appointment play-by-plays. A dear friend was relating the events of her appointment. She was upset about the way things had gone at the OB. First, she had gained around 10 pounds since her last appointment, bringing her total pregnancy weight gain to a healthy 20 lbs with 6 weeks to go. Of more concern was the presence of protein and sugar in her urine. Fortunately and thankfully, her blood pressure remains well within safe limits, but her OB mentioned that they will begin keeping a close watch for pre-eclampsia. All of these things I can understand, I know the mechanics behind this stuff, if in theory only. It was when she said that she was feeling a little down about it and admitted (which I admire) that she thinks that maybe she had grown somewhat cocky - for the first time she had actually had something not be perfect with this pregnancy and it had thrown her for a loop.

So what do I do? I automatically step into the role of philosopher - I try and get at the root of it and understand where she is coming from. I think back and remember that she got pregnant the first shot and was really suprised when it worked so quickly. In fact it really caught her off guard, because she had realistic expectations and thought it would take several months for them to conceive. I remember reassuring her that it was okay to be nervous when she first learned she was expecting, because it was a big deal and that that didn't mean that she loved her unborn child any less. Through excellent first ultrasounds, nuchal translucency scans, alpha fetal protein tests and even "yep, you're pregnant" OB visits, thankfully things have gone so smoothly for her pregnancy.

So I try to imagine what that must be like. What it must be like to have it all come in an orderly fashion - I mean what if it had been me? What if I had conceived right away, or hell, even in 6 months. What if everything had been perfect? Surely I would share her sense of apprehension if I had had an appointment like that, right? For I wouldn't know what I know now - that this whole procreation thing is so damn tenuous.

Now I reach the speculative part of this, yet it is the meat and potatos of it all. When she reads my reports of endometriosis and the pain that accompanies it does she (and at this point, "she" becomes a broad definition - now inclusive of the other fertile women in my life) simply scroll past it, moving on to things that apply to her? When she reads about my PCOS, does she think to herself that's she's glad its not her? When I bitch about the fact that IVF is going to break the bank for us (and yes, I am guilty of bitching, suprised?), do her eyes glaze over a little bit?

Oftentimes it reminds me of the way teenagers regard the latest "he said, she said" debacle as the end of the world -it behooves us to remind ourselves that to them, it is the end of the world in the scope of their experiences. Sometimes I ask myself if maybe, just maybe, could the same apply here? Maybe the collective her's lack of experience in all things infertility, makes the quickening weight gain of her pregnancy be the end-all for her, since she has no other frame of reference than smooth sailing?

I frequently stress that I do not want pity, for that would make me pitiful. I do want empathy, though. I believe as humans, we need to feel that someone is hearing us. I believe that even if someone hasn't walked your specific path, that they can still dig deep and find some basis on which to relate. Although most have not and will never experience infertility, it is likely they have struggled through some other significant loss, like the death of a loved one or a divorce, not dissimilar experiences. I believe that by recollecting their suffering and by remembering what kind of help and support was most comforting to them at that time, fertiles can be empathetic to infertiles. I often wonder if my friends are cognizant of the similarities in the anguish that occurs with each of those situations.

Ultimately, I will never know if she, or anyone else for that matter, ever stops to imagine what it is like to be infertile or if I am just a blip on the outer reaches of the radar. I do know, however, that infertility has strengthened my ability to always try and consider where someone else is coming from when I hear them lament a situation; to try and learn where they have been and how it has shaped their perceptions and responses.

Original Comments

100 Things

1. For a particularly loquacious person, I am worried that I won't have enough to say to fill up 100 things.

2. I am a triple Aries - Aries sun, Aries moon and Aries ascendant.

3. That makes me extremely neurotic - I think I live my life in triplicate.

4. I toured with the Grateful Dead and Phish.

5. I even had dreadlocks,

6. but never gave up shaving my legs.

7. As a banker, I work in a very buttoned-up environment,

8. but I am very liberal.

9. I am fiercely loyal.

10. I hate macaroni and cheese and peanut butter,

11. but have a weird addiction to cucumbers in vinegar.

12. I always planned on being a lawyer, but after being a software engineer, I became a banker.

13. I have two tattoos. One of justice scales and another is one I drew myself of a fairy.

14. My belly button is pierced. My tongue used to be as well.

15. I'm allergic to avocados; they give me hives.

16. I have two dogs, a Chinese Shar Pei and an English Bulldog.

17. I work hard to be a good listener.

18. I have never ridden a go-cart - they scare me.

19. I was a late developer - I even stuffed my bra on two occasions.

20. I got away with it, too.

21. I hate clowns.

22. I met my husband when I was 18, but wouldn't date him until I was 24.

23. I was engaged twice before I finally became engaged to Himself.

24. I was never the marrying type.

25. I am a hard person to live with.

26. I don't like cuddly people - I need my space.

27. I am addicted to office supplies, I can spend hours in Staples.

28. My best friend is my mother.

29. Perhaps because I am an only child.

30. I was a competitive gymnast from age 3 until age 18.

31. I wish I was still that flexible.

32. I am addicted to Dorothy Parker.

33. I've had stitches in my tongue twice.

34. My favorite cocktail is an amaretto sour.

35. I was conceived on the 4th of July. My mother had been off birth control for two weeks.

36. I use a lot of profanity.

37. Galaga was my favorite Atari game.

38. I don't wear lipstick. Ever.

39. My husband and I both surf.

40. My first 45 album was J. Geils Band, Centerfold with Rage in the Cage on the flip side.

41. I am a member of Mensa.

42. I took the test on a dare from an asshole ex-boyfriend and won $200 dollars from him for passing it.

43. The weather has a big impact on my moods.

44. I just stopped this list to go and inject myself with Ovidrel.

45. I cringe when people crack their knuckles.

46. We have a beach house.

47. Which is ironic, because I prefer the mountains.

48. The first boy I ever kissed was named Jeremy; I was 11.

49. I double majored in computer science and finance in undergrad, and did my graduate work in economics and finance.

50. My husband's birthday is Christmas Day.

51. One of my best friends is gay. I have told them if I physcially can and they wanted a child I would gladly be a gestational surrogate for them.

52. I have a high pain threshold.

53. I wrecked Himself's motorcycle several years ago.

54. I broke 3 bones and dislocated my knee and didn't go to the hospital for 3 days.

55. That was stupid.

56. I got back on the bike and rode it home.

57. I still ride.

58. I love the smell of freshly cut grass.

59. I hate the month of February - bad news always seems to come to me then.

60. I used to stand on my dad's feet when I was little so he could dance with me around the room.

61. I despise tchotchkes, they are what I term clutterfuck.

62. My favorite color is orange; I keep telling my friends its the new black.

63. I abhor cleaning bathrooms.

64. Yet get a perverse thrill from organizing my closet.

65. I wish I could sing well.

66. Unfortuantely I can't carry a tune in my pocket.

67. I still sing in the car, though.

68. I am a member of the Mile High Club.

69. My favorite food is Pad Thai.

70. I will make it to Machu Picchu before 2008.

71. I tend to give people in my life nicknames; currently in my life there is "The Boss of Me", "Mr. Volatility", and "The A Bomb", among others.

72. As a baby my dad nicknamed me B.B.B.

73. Which stood for Bitty Butt Bonka, because I was three weeks early and he could hold me in the palm of his hand.

74. We don't share this nickname in public; its too embarassing.

75. I have backpacked the Appalachian Trail.

76. I was a go-go dancer at a bar in college.

77. Then I became a bartender.

78. The tips were better.

79. I am proud of my family and how far they have come.

80. My mother grew up in a home with only an outhouse and now holds 2 Masters degrees.

81. It made me believe in the power of hard work.

82. I hate ironing.

83. I make Himself do it.

84. I think regret is a wasted emotion.

85. I read a lot.

86. I average 6-8 books a week.

87. I even read at stoplights during rush hour.

88. I love summer thunderstorms.

89. Especially when its really warm.

90. I go out with an umbrella and jump in the puddles barefoot.

91. I'm not good at coping with sadness.

92. Anger, I can handle.

93. I hate this about myself.

94. I was disappointed with the year 2005.

95. I'm hopeful that 2006 will bring better things.

96. I believe in happily ever after.

97. I have learned that there isn't just one version of my happily every after.

98. I dream of my future children.

99. They will be with me.

100. Someday, Someway.

Original Comments

Through the Looking Glass

I am a 28 year old (insert your preference of adjective here) woman who has mistakenly fallen through the rabbit hole into the world of trying to conceive my first child. Quite obviously, I have not been successful at this venture.

I fully reserve the right to bitch about my neighbor who got pregnant the first try and who said to me "you just need to prop your hips up afterwards" and the rest of the "mom squad" who patrol my neighborhood looking for someone else to pitifully talk about during play group.

As far as I know, the purpose of a blog is to invite discourse - so please share your thoughts. However, blatant obnoxious behavior is not only aberrant but indicative of a lack of restraint (mental early ejaculation, if you will).