What If...I Just Don't Think About It

We're just a week away from National Infertility Awareness Week and whenever I sit myself down to write a post I find myself filled with one thought:

I don't want to. I just don't want to talk about this right now.

I'm sorry if my timing is off. But there you have it.

I don't want to talk about how it feels to be four years into a journey with nothing to show for it but a raging, gaping, gasping hole. I don't want to talk about how I feel when I read about someone who's pregnant, how someone is experiencing their first (or second or third) loss, how someone's trying again for the nth time, how someone's navigating pregnancy after a loss, how someone is realizing that parenting is what makes their life complete, how someone is coming to the realization they will never ever be pregnant.

It rips me apart right now. All of it. The highs, the lows, the waiting, the resolve. The pragmatism, the hopefulness, the foolishness, again, the resolve. I need to close my eyes from it for a little bit. I'm feeling a little singed.

There is no hotter fire, no stronger crucible than a body living through infertility. Except perhaps loss. If you don't know what you're made of before you start trying, by god you'll figure it out. Or you'll keep testing yourself with hotter temps, greater risks, all driven by a blinding hope - one of the two.

Don't worry, I'm not going to roll into any what doesn't kill me.....Nietzsche bullshit here. That quote posted on my dorm room wall as a rationale for staying in a ridiculous abusive addictive relationship did me little good then. It doesn't work here either.

I don't feel stronger. I feel more vulnerable. I don't feel more assured. I question everything.

I wince even thinking about breaking down the costs of our attempts through IVFs, donor egg cycles (two), all of it. Luckily, they occurred when we actually had multiple credit cards with high debt limits and we were used to carrying them. The climate has changed a bit since then. These days, banks are a little edgy if you have a balance that is higher than what one of you makes in a year. Those jerks.

I will tell you that the sum total is five digits long and probably starts with a 5 or a 6. I lost track after a while. I will tell you that surrogacy through an agency is absolutely cost prohibitive right now. There, now I'm dizzy.

I will tell you that for the most part I (and I am going to stretch way out here and say we) we are generally pretty happy these days. We love each other wholeheartedly and without reserve. We cherish our time together. We make excuses and skip functions just to have more time on the couch or making dinner or whatever. We are finally feeling emotionally able to handle some risks again - job hunts? relocation? thinking about a vacation? purchasing a new piece of furniture?

Don't laugh. After our daughters died, we were so risk-averse that leaving the apartment for anyplace other than a location we could get to with our eyes closed or meeting a person outside of a very select circle was panic-inducing. We seem to have cleared that hurdle now. An email from cousins who just returned from Paris made me think, hmmm....we ARE due for a vacation. An invite to a family event next month (featuring a baby) had me thinking hmmmm....maybe we'll surprise everyone and show up.

I just might be venturing back to pieces of the person I once was. I can handle being wise-cracking, mouthy, irreverent, impetuous. I can't handle being bitter.

The only thing that pulls me back and wraps me tight into a cocoon is thinking about infertility. About the daughters that should be running our lives right now. About the abject failure one feels after a failed cycle and how no amount of wordplay or positive imagery or reshaping the conversation really dulls that. About how far behind we feel when everyone around us is immersed in their children's lives.

We are being left behind.

That's how it feels.

And dammit, as a type-A, socially-needy kid who's biggest fear was that there was something going on someplace that she wasn't aware of, that is one hell of an OUCH.

But I'll get over it. I'm getting over it. As long as I don't think about it.

I know this is probably not what you had expected from one of last year's Blogs of Hope finalists. I wasn't expecting our struggle to pull us well into 2011 either. I'm finding myself working through some of my bigger What Ifs while that last mystical one dangles. Just out of reach.

I was reading a post over at My Infertility Woes a week or so ago and it is sticking with me. I can't get it out of my head:

I've got plenty of people who do exist that I can love. With my whole heart. I have children in my life that I can influence, that I can spend time with, and that I can support and care about. That may be enough for me. That may be more than enough for me.

I'm also not ready to say this is it, I'm done. Not yet. This journey has been a long one and I know I need to sit with this idea for awhile longer. But right now, right this second, I can say wholeheartedly that it's not worth it. There's more to life than this one thing. There's so much more.

There is so much more. This year, as I turn 37 (dizzy again) I want to spend some time on the More.

Now, I have five days to figure out how to make my birthday (birthday week?) fabulous. Suggestions?

Oooh boy.....

That's gonna leave a mark.

Big. Really big.

That's how big the screaming match I just had with my mom was. Mega.

As big as when I confronted her about not sharing my birth papers with me.

As big as when I finally exploded about her not remembering my husband's name at my wedding (it was a joke!! No. It really wasn't)

As big as when she caught me "consummating my relationship" with my first love and then promptly marched me over to HIS parent's house to tell them. (for real? yeah. for real)

This was weeks and months of resentment and obligation bubbling up and over and into her ears and then her back and me and hey, did I mention I am good at this, so, right back at her.

Unnecessary things were said. I don't need to catalog them here because then I'll need to look at them.

Here's the thing - I would rather scream and yell and have it out then continue with a charade of niceties and fakeries. What she sees as a "relationship" and "everything is fine" I consider the opposite. If I love you enough to tell you how I really feel, you should know that is love. Not the opposite.

But I did what I resent so much when she does it - I dredged things up from the past. And she was shocked. Speechless at a reality she thought was and one that I dismissed tonight. And I am feeling a little bad about that.

You've changed so much. We used to be so close....

When? Tell me when exactly you thought that was? (there have been varying answers to this in the past so I was curious to see what she said tonight)

When you left for college. That's when everything changed.....

Then that confirms how medicated you were through my high school career. Did you ever wonder why I was at the guidance counselors office every day? Did you ever wonder why I wanted to get to university so badly?

Did you ever wonder why I moved so far away?

**

Yes, friends. I went there. Not unprovoked, but I should know better. I am, allegedly, "the smart one" here. That's another one of her favorite arrows.

I think we should probably not talk for a while. Let her cool off. Let me stop shaking. But I'm sorry, in the Lifetime-movie-watching-mind of my mother, mothers and daughters call each other every day. They share secrets. They plot and scheme and take on the world together. And she is heartbroken that I don't share my deepest, darkest thoughts with her.

That ain't me.

And that never WAS me, but somehow, in her memory, it was. And she is mourning the loss of that, apparently, for decades. That ain't me because in the Lifetime-movie-watching-mind of my mother best friends sit on the porch together and drink mimosas and gossip and kvetch about their woes and their families and hey, my deepest darkest thoughts are seen as fair game. I don't tell her shit because I never know who or when or in what circumstance my words will be repeated back to me.

No! I never do that with personal things!

ALL of my shit is personal to me.

But how do I know the difference?

You don't. Which is why I don't tell you shit.

**

Wow.

And now I just got a baffled and confused call from my dad who picked up the phone when it rang and was on the receiving end of my mom screaming at HIM. Which is kind of what I was yelling at her for in the first place.

**

UPDATE: called my mom and calmly asked why she couldn't wait for me to call my dad to arrange this week of doctor's visits. She says he called her. She didn't even raise her voice and she has witnesses to prove it and he dropped the F bomb on HER. Then hung up.

**

Madness. Madness I tell you.

This getting old shit - its a sonofabitch.

A Look Behind

2010, you were not the banner year I had hoped you would be.

But hey, you certainly didn't suck as bad as 2009. So that's something.

This morning, I thought I would dig up my resolutions for this year and see where they stand. This could be affirming, or simply a masochistic exercise. Let's see, shall we?

I started 2010 with the admission that:

there are things that have nothing to do with will, will power or even desire. There are some things that are completely out of one's control. And for a classic type A, honor student, overachiever, that lesson is a damn hard one to learn.

And a lesson that 2010 has continued to pound into my thick skull. You see, this time last year, I was secretly giddy with the idea that a baby just might be a possibility in 2010. As you know, that just wasn't so.

In 2010 we explored gestational carriers, set off on another FET cycle (which we canceled) and came to the realization that we were tired, really tired of spending 100% of our emotional and physical energy on baby-making.

I can sense that some people (mostly those who have no clue as to what any of this entails) are disappointed that it seems like our family building is on hold. But you would make such GREAT parents.....

Uh, yeah. No fucking shit.

Others (employers) seem relieved.

Here's the thing: I am just not in a baby-at-any-cost frame of mind. I am not there. And I don't think M is either. I think there are some things we each need to do to get our heads right before we can jump into all of this again.

I know this because someone (who I love) asked me at a cocktail party recently if I wanted to meet her gynecologist who also happened to be there "because he knows some people who want to be surrogates." And I wanted to scream. Up until that moment, I was feeling fabulous, sexy even, sipping on a carefully made dirty martini, shmoozing, making small talk, laughing, you know, acting HUMAN. And in that flash of an instant, everything I didn't have and everything I would have to do to get it came flooding into my mind and just wouldn't go away. So much for the party. So much for me as functional conversationalist.

**

If we are to be parents, there are now 2 options that are left for us: using a gestational carrier, or adoption. We aren't there with adoption yet. We are more connected to the idea of a GC. Because we have some gorgeous blastocysts on ice and we may have a potential GC who is a family member. But there are still hurdles (note the several conditionals in that previous sentence). Still obstacles to face. Still many, many things that could go awry. I'm not sure if 2011 will be the year for all of this. I'm not holding my breath. But knowing there is a shred of hope in the air, well, sometimes that's enough to keep from losing it altogether.

**

So, back to the resolutions. In 2010 I said my goals were:

To have a body I am proud of.
I mentioned 30 lbs as an ideal shed, but recognized that wasn't a terribly realistic goal. Well, how about 16? That's not so shabby, hey? 2010 was the year I emerged as oh my gosh, do I say it? a Runner? This was verified by the fact that I received a subscription to Runners World from my in laws for Xmas. I now have 5 race tags hanging from my bulletin board, a PR of 30:52 for a 5K and my sights set on a half marathon in June. M and I have been doing the vegan thing for almost 2 months now...I'm giving myself a +1 for this resolution.

To continue the process of healing.
We started seeing a therapist late in 2009 and while that was helpful for a while, after a few sessions it felt like she had helped us as much as she could. We chose to say farewell and for a while, swam through our sea of grief solo. We didn't drown, but we weren't going anywhere either. A few months ago, actually before we set off on the canceled cycle, we started to see a new acupuncturist. First me, then M. Now we are hooked. She fits us well.

Somehow, acupuncture feels more proactive than therapy. You bitch, you cry, then someone feels your pulses and pokes you with pointy things. It is cathartic. And the fact that we had some cash in my FSA that we had to use or lose has meant that we have each been getting our acu fix almost weekly. Those glory days are counting down, but we will definitely continue this process and this practice into 2011.

I don't think healing ever stops, just as missing Isobel and Jovita will never not be a part of our days, but looking back on my blog for this year, I think I can see some progression. As our acupuncturist would say, these pulses are not the same as the ones that arrived here months ago. I don't know what that means but I think it is sufficient to get another +1 for this resolution.

To be happy with the thing I do to make money and
To start acting like the director I know I should be.
I am definitely feeling better about things than I had been. After months of studying, I took my CAE (certified association executive) exam earlier this month. After months of thinking about it, I put my name in for a pretty significant political position in my field. I doubt I will get this specific job, but I like the fact that just putting my name out there has been met with first surprise and then support by my peers. I think it might help them see me a little differently in the future - not as a second-in-command-who-might-be-in-charge-someday, but as a someone-who-could-do-this-and-do-this-well-right-now. I'm pretty jazzed that I actually did some pro-active and scary things to get a +1 here.

Now for the hard ones....

To show more patience and compassion - to hear the words that were meant, not necessarily the ones that were said.
Ok, I think I have gotten much better at this, but I still have a ways to go. Case in point: the person who asked us if we were ever going to "try again" the other night almost got a tongue lashing from me. What the @#$# do you think we've been doing, @#$#@#?!?! Strong thigh squeezes from M. were the only things that saved that dude. Another case in point: the martini/surro instance I referenced above - I am sure what was meant was, there is someone here that I know that I think could help you. What I heard was, let me interrupt your awesome night to make you feel like shit. And both of these instances took me at least a few days to pull out of the funk so....hmmm. Can we call this one even?

To pay attention to friends and their needs, not just how they respond to mine.
This is hard to self-judge. I shall await feedback from IRL pals. No need to leave it in the comments section if its scathing.

To minimize envy.
Well, we can't be perfect, can we? I've been struggling a LOT with this one. Note Thanksgiving, Xmas, M's boss who is being induced right now....I am having a very, very hard time stopping the ouch in my heart with the new pregnancies, birth announcements, babies everywhere. I am fairly certain M is there too. Everything is theoretical until the belly is in your face, the cries in your ears. Mostly it is the happy anticipation, the wonder, the joy, and the fact that we missed out on all of that. Sigh. I'm sounding bitter so I'll stop.

Clearly, a -1 here.

**

So, all in all. 2010, I shall not curse you. You helped us move a little closer to functional human beings, took us a little further down our career paths. Hopefully, you are putting in a good word for us with your pal 2011.

Today

Is your last chance to vote!

Here's a friendly reminder from RESOLVE:

Have you voted for the Team RESOLVE™ Choice Awards for Best Blog, Best Book and the Hope Award for Nursing yet?

On Tuesday, September 28 in New York City, NY, RESOLVE will present the Team RESOLVE™ Choice Awards for Best Blog, Best Book and the Hope Award for Nursing and we can’t do it without YOU!

• Click here to vote for your favorite infertility book and blog!
• Click here to nominate your favorite infertility nurse for the Hope Award for Nursing co-sponsored with EMD Serono!

It goes without saying that I am stunned and humbled to be among the company of these ladies, each with her own story to tell. Just like you.

Thank you for the emails I've received this week. Thank you for the love and encouragement you've shown me, and for letting me vent. Thank you, truly, for sharing your stories with me, and for sticking around as we continue our quest for a happy ending to ours.

Now go click on some buttons!

On Awareness, part 2 - Reader Participation Requested

Back in April, I decided that the desire to be a vocal part of the infertility community, the part that would rather as Mel says, light a candle than sit and curse the darkness, was stronger than my fear of reopening my book of what ifs.

So I wrote this post.

On Friday, I learned that based on that post, RESOLVE chose this blog (this blog right here!) as one of the five in the running for their best blog award.

OMFGHFS

(I hope they don't deduct points for cursing.)

The point of the post was to recognize National Infertility Awareness Week. As you know, I think awareness only counts when its connected with action. So....

When you have a minute, please go to www.resolve.org/vote. Have a look around. Read some posts. Bookmark some new sites. Make your choice for the best infertility blog and best infertility book. you don't have to vote for me. But it would be awesome if you would vote. And if you felt like spreading the link around, well, that would be great too.

Voting is open until June 24th. So don't dilly dally!

What if....

Dudes, I've got some real angst over this.

I've spent all week debating whether or not I want to open my mind again to questions that begin with What if.... after spending well over a year and some significant mental energy training myself to knock it off. Started and stopped more posts than I can track. Tried different angles, different questions, positive spins. It's not that easy.

Of course I want to do something for National Infertility Awareness Week. Of course I want to support my community, my peeps, my strength. But...the what ifs, they slay me.

What if I realized I was going into pre-term labor sooner?
What if we would have been able to save baby J? At least buy her some more time?
What if my babies, my daughters, my children didn't die in our arms?
What if the two daughters we always wanted were here with us today, turning one. Together. With us?

When it comes to loss, we all have lists. Only I'm not as brave as Angie to post mine. Lists of things you could have done or not done that would have somehow made the difference in the life and death of your child. There is a lot of blame. Even more self-doubt. It can do a job on you, esp. when grief has made your mind a little mush to begin with.

And I don't even get into the what ifs that are so far removed from our reality. They are less what ifs and more hypothetical wouldn't it have been cool ifs.....

Wouldn't it have been cool if we could have conceived without significant medical intervention and someone else's eggs?
wouldn't it have been cool if we actually had a chance of conceiving again with my own body?
Wouldn't it have been cool if fertility was seen as an important part of surviving cancer?

But this is all old news. That part is past. And now the new what ifs emerge:

What if we can't move forward with our gestational carrier?
What if we do move forward and it doesn't work?
What if we run out of options and/or run through our line of credit - both of these feel perilously close.
What if we never, ever, ever have a child to love?

or, as Mrs. A asks:

What if I have to learn to live childfree with a smile….forever?

I'm not sure that I can.

And then the inner dialog begins because, sorry, I have a tendency to talk to myself:

well, guess what? You might HAVE to.

Ok, but living is very different than living with a smile. Obviously, I can exist in this space. But it doesn't mean I like it, or that its easy. Here's a what if for you, what if every day wasn't a struggle?

But sometimes it's not.

Yes, you're right. Sometimes its not. I bet, if I had to, I could live this life. After all, I've already had some practice. If we had to live without any living children, I suppose we would make it work. There would always be a space, an absence that wouldn't fill. A remark, a photo, an innocuous TV ad that would bring feelings and sadness to the surface. There will always be cliffs and ledges we will need to pull each other from, but we could survive. We'd have to.

For I. and for J., we'd have to. We owe them that.

**

As per Mel's instructions, I'm ending this post with a positive What if.... One that I really haven't allowed to enter my mind just yet.

What if our journey towards a family with our gestational carrier actually works? What if this time next year there is a happy, healthy baby in our arms?

Damn, that's a nice what if.

**

www.resolve.org/infertility101
www.resolve.org/takecharge