You're gonna be SO proud of me!

I did it! You have no idea how thrilled I am to be able to log in here today and tell you that I did it!

This afternoon, I left work early and I went to the lab at the medical clinic. My Angel met me with a smile and a hug, and a hopeful grin, asking, "Any news for me yet?" (She's a cheering section all unto her own!) I laughed at her and I gave her a belated Christmas Card that I'd hoped to give her before I went away for the holidays. I also gave her a copy of the Globe and Mail article, and told her that I mention her now and then in my blog. Next time, I told her I'm going to take a photo of her for the blog. She deserves some serious kudos.

Nonetheless, today, I deserved kudos too. Why? Because I went there, to that lab alone. ALONE. BY MYSELF!! Do you know how huge that is?! It's a step that I am really proud of. With the phobia and past experiences that I have had with needles and blood and all the rest, it's immense. Given the utter hell that I've been through in the past with giving blood for tests, it's only My Angel that makes it easier for me.

And even today, when she was trying to find the vein (that conveniently hid from her after she'd found it!), tapping my arms, rubbing the skin, trying to make it bearable, I was able to withstand it. When she stuck me once, and didn't get the vein, for a split second, I trembled, wondering if I could go through with it. And I knew I could. She turned me round (cause I still have to lie down; I wasn't willing to tempt fate all THAT much today!) and tried the other arm, and voilà! She got it! Lord bless her for her patience, her understanding and her compassion. It is through her and these gifts that she has that I am able to do what I did today.

I went for bloodwork all by myself. And I couldn't be happier about it! This was the last test needed before our file gets referred to Montreal for IVF. And now we see where the road takes us.

Special Occasions
Today, January 8 is the anniversary of the date that my husband proposed. Back in January of 2003, we had already bought the ring (together) and I had given it to him saying, "You take it, and keep it, and when the time is right, if the time is right, you ask me." He had planned to propose at New Year's... alas, an allergic reaction I had that night put the kaibosh on that plan. So instead, on January 8, he did the deed.

It's a cute story: I had been wearing a simple, yellow gold ring that we picked up on vacation about a year prior to his formally popping the question. And that night, on January 8, we had decided to go out for dinner. At the table, he took my hands and played with my ring, saying, "I think it's time we replaced this ring, don't you?" I said, "If you're ready... sure." But he'd left the ring at home, and so he promised to ask when we got back to the house.

Returning home (yes, yes, we lived in sin for about three years before he asked the question), it was all but forgotten as we got tied up with the animals, tidying, preparations for the next day at work, and all the rest. Around 11 or so, we went to bed. And there, lying in bed, he sat straight up and said, "Damn! I knew I forgot something." He pulled out the ring, rolled over and said, "I'm sorry, it slipped my mind. So, would you marry me?"

My response? "Nuh uh. You gotta do it right," said with a smirk. He got out of bed, came round to my side of the bed, got down on one knee (stark naked mind you!) and I sat on the edge of the bed, with nothing but the light of the moon in the bedroom. He took my hand in his and asked again, "Gil, will you marry me?" And I nodded and said, "Yes." After he put the ring on my finger, I joked with him, "Bout time you asked!"

And happy belated birthday to my mom! Yesterday was her birthday. I called her, and spent an hour chatting to her and my dad. She's in great spirits; she told me that they just made plans to go to Florida in the spring and I know she is really looking forward to it. They deserve it. They deserve nothing but the best.

Look! Another New Year!

We're back from our holiday in West Virginia and I must say, we had a great time visiting with my sister and her husband, and his whole family. Christmas was fantastic and my sis and I did the turkey for everyone (there were nine of us around the dinner table). The drive to and from WV from Canada's capital took about 12-13 hours each way, with extra time on the return trip to stop in Columbus, Ohio to visit a gaming friend of mine who I've been chatting with for more than two years now. It was lovely to meet him and his wife in person for the first time, rather than just hear his voice over my headset!

I am so glad that we went to see everyone. Now I have a good frame of reference when my sis talks about driving to this or that place, or how her house is laid out, how far it is to her MIL's house... stuff like that. And I am told that my sis and her husband really enjoyed having us there as well. That's good; I hate to be a burden to people when I stay in their home.

Upon return to Ottawa, we launched ourselves back to some sort of regular routine. Okay, I'm not back at the gym just YET. But I'm getting there. Besides, it's the first week of January; this is the week that all the "New Year's Resolutions" people come out of the woodwork and invade the gym! Etiquette people! Jeez, wipe down the machines when you're done willya!? *shudder* Ugh. Just icky. *wince*

Early January... the time for New Year's Resolutions. Yes, it is that time of the year isn't it? You know something? I have one resolution this year. Sure, I want to lose weight. Sure I want to get out more. Sure, I want to spend more time with family and friends. But the resolution I have?

Do whatever it takes to make me happy.

It's as simple as that. It CAN be as simple as that.

If that means more gym, so be it.
If it means changing jobs (something I'm sort of considering now that I've tasted being a manager), so be it.
If it means travel, so be it.
If it means trying IVF, so be it.
If it means letting go of the dream... so be it.

Scary as it sounds, but I have to live my life right? I have to get through each day, and be happy at the end of the day; otherwise, what's the point? Why put myself through months, years of agony and put my marriage at risk, put my mental health at risk, put my social life on hold... for something that may never be? I want to be a mom, of course. But at the risk of losing myself, of changing who I am? Of losing my husband and putting my sanity at risk? My happiness never to be found again because I put myself through hell with treatments? Is it worth that? Many of you who have had success can answer that I guess. I'd like to hear your take on it. But for me, and others who haven't yet had success, and may NEVER have success (let's face facts shall we?), I'm reaching that crossroads.

A friend e-mailed me yesterday and said that I have sounded more upbeat and more like my old, positive, happy self in the last few months. She's right. I have. Why? Because I am letting go. I am not putting my eggs (ha ha!) in the 'fertility' basket anymore. I can't. I can't have that unfailing hope. I have hope, but it isn't going to come at the cost of losing myself. I won't let that happen.

Inuit Adoptions
I read an article in the paper a couple of days ago, about people from my home province (Newfoundland) looking north to the Inuit population for adoption. In "Couples Look North to Adopt Children," the details are laid out: Nunavut has the highest birth rate in Canada (more than double the national average); the Atlantic region has the lowest birth rate in Canada; and the Atlantic region has the highest wait for newborns (14 years in some places). Best of all, in the Inuit culture, there is no stigma made about 'giving away' a baby, rather you 'make a gift' to both the child and the new parents. Sounds like a win-win situation for those couples who are seeking to adopt and who are willing to promise that the child's heritage is not lost. I thought the article was well done. Very sensitive and outlined some of the process. I thought I'd mention it for those interested.

There is good news in the blogging world though; a couple of you have attained the finish line!
Decemberbaby (aka Sara) had a girl on New Year's Eve. Go congratulate her! And Nina over at Stella and/or Ben has a baby girl, born on December 30. What a cutie!


Christmas Meme

I've been tagged for a Christmas Meme by Pam over at Baby Wanted: Apply Within. It's late in coming Pam, but better late than never right?

1. Egg nog or Hot Chocolate?
Egg nog is good, but I prefer Hot Chocolate.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
All wrapped! And marked "To Gil, From Santa."

3. Coloured lights on tree/house or white?
I love the look of all white lights. It looks very classy, but I prefer the traditional look of coloured lights. Oh, all blue lights looks lovely too!

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
Real mistletoe? Nope. Fake stuff? Sometimes. Not always.

5. When do you put your decorations up?
The decorations are up and ready to go for December 1. They do not come down before January 6, which is Old Christmas Day, per tradition.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Christmas dinner, turkey and the trimmings, is a must at holiday time.

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child.
I was about 6 or 7 years old and my sister is a year younger than me. We were visiting my aunt and uncle on Christmas Eve and we were about to leave for home with Mom and Dad. There, on the cement porch, my sister and I looked up to the night sky and we SWORE up and down that we saw Santa flying overhead. I believed, with all my heart, that I had seen Santa Claus and we were never so anxious to get home and get to bed!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I don't know that I "learned" the truth per se. Somewhere around the age of 10 or 11 I guess I figured it out. But to this day, I believe in Santa, as in I believe in the goodness of all people, the joy in your heart, the giving nature and the abundance of happiness that I experience when I give something I know the recipient will enjoy. The essence of Christmas is giving; and if Santa embodies that, then I embrace it wholeheartedly. Yes Gil, there really IS a Santa Claus.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas eve?
I used to as a child, now I don't. Christmas Eve is more enjoyable for me than Christmas Day and it was always that way. I could prolong Christmas Eve for a week and be thrilled!

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
A total of 850 coloured lights, with a lighted angel at the top. Homemade ornaments that my mother did years ago, old ornaments from my grandmother's and grandfather's tree, and from my Dad's home when he was a boy, a few "mass-produced" ornaments that you can get pretty much anywhere, but most are unique. My mom started giving us an ornament per year when we were kids. When we moved out, we got all our ornaments to take with us. So I have brass ornaments with my name engraved and the year; I have ornaments collected from family vacations at Christmas (1997 in Disney for example), and an ornament that my grandmother made before she passed away. Those are dear to me. I don't know what I would do if I lost them or they were damaged. No tinsel on my tree though; we have cats!

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
I LOVE SNOW! Hate shovelling it though. :(

12. Can you ice skate?
No. I used to but broke my ankle when I was 10. It's too weak to skate on anymore.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
Not particularly. I remember a few gifts, some of which I've tried to track down on the Internet but other than that, no. I do remember the year my sister got a guitar though!

14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Being surrounded by family and friends.

15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert?
The rum cake that my aunt makes!

16. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?
Delivering gifts on Christmas eve and then having wine while we stuff the stockings.

17. What tops your tree?
A lighted angel.

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
Giving. Always giving.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
There are too many to name but here are a few:
Little Drummer Boy by The Harry Simeone Chorale
Do They Know it's Christmas by Band-Aid
The Angel Gabriel by Sting
A Spaceman Came Travelling by Chris deBurgh
The Holly and the Ivy by Rita MacNeil

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Love em, but in moderation. I prefer chocolate!


Thank you...
... for the prayers and good wishes for my friend and her daughter that I mentioned in my last entry. They're still working through this and trying to make sense of it all. I guess we all are in our own way.

IF in the Headlines!

The article appears today. Here's a link, which will function for a week or so I guess.

Baby-desperate moms share every detail online

To Mel, Tertia, Julie and all the women who contributed: congratulations to you. I think you've all done a splendid job! Be proud.

Tralee, hats off to you girl! I appreciate your taking the time to talk to me the other day and to present what is a sensitive topic. This is a beautiful article. Thank you for shining the spotlight on us for a fleeting moment.

And lastly to Bill, the gentleman who took my photo for the article the other day, thank you. I hope you got something to work with!



Baby-desperate moms share every detail online
TRALEE PEARCE

Globe and Mail Update

November 27, 2007 at 6:37 AM EST

Gillian Wood has been trying to get pregnant for three years. She's used fertility drugs, tried intrauterine insemination and has even been tested for in-vitro fertilization.

She considers none of this private information. Instead, Ms. Wood, who hopes to embark on in-vitro sessions soon, is sharing every last detail of her experience, fears and all, via her blog, the Hardest Quest.

"I am so afraid to take that next step," she writes of her infertility journey. "You cannot imagine. (Okay, maybe some of you can. But right now, it seems overwhelming and immense to me.)"

This is the world of the infertility blog.

Here, women (and a few men) relay every medical moment, every disappointment and every shred of hope they find in their attempts to have babies.

They share tips on injecting fertility drugs and freezing embryos. They commiserate about insensitive queries from friends and family members, and seek out "cycle buddies" whose ovulation and fertility treatments align.

Infertility blogging has won more adherents, and sites have proliferated over the past 18 months, some say. One of the infertility world's most famous bloggers, Melissa, a.k.a. the Stirrup Queen, says that during her first hard-won pregnancy three years ago (which resulted in twins), bulletin boards and chat rooms were all she could find.

Now, her highly visible blog competes with dozens of others and, like its competitors, has a growing core of loyal readers. "I see myself as a blogger, but also as a pollinator, bringing together bloggers who may have missed each other otherwise," the 33-year-old says by e-mail from the Washington area. (She declines to share her surname.)

May Friedman, a women's studies PhD student at Toronto's York University who studies infertility and mothering blogs, says such forums bring together two of the Web's major hallmarks: anonymity and confession.

Tell-all blogs are safe places for the infertile to overcome the shame and isolation they may feel about infertility. They can "come out," if you will.

Ms. Wood, 37, says she started the blog as an outlet for all the emotions she and her husband were facing - not to mention as a practical spot to record all her drug doses and ovulation schedules. "I thought, 'I'll do it for me; if I get readers, cool,' " says Ms. Wood, a technical writer and editor in Ottawa. "You tell it like it is - you can be as emotional as you want."

Julie, of the blog A Little Pregnant, was also searching for an outlet. She has written about her ectopic pregnancy, a miscarriage and, finally, her high-risk pregnancy and 10-weeks-early delivery of a son. Now she and her husband are trying again.

The 36-year-old Vermont native was uncomfortable opening up with family members, but "my blog allowed me to do that, to be frank about what I was going through," she says in an e-mail. When well-meaning friends didn't understand, "I had friends inside the computer who could."

For many, blogs allow for some black humour. Julie defends using salty language on her blog: "You try having your uterus filled with glow-in-the-dark dye, and then we'll discuss what kind of language seems appropriate."

Along the way, readers and writers alike share any expertise they have gained. "My doctor taught me how to give myself an injection," Melissa says. But online, "another infertile woman was the one who taught me how to make an injection less painful."

Community members quickly adopt an insider lexicon - much of it built on medical acronyms: RE is the reproductive endocrinologist; OPK is an ovulation predictor kit.

As South African infertility blogger Tertia writes: "The infertility world is a subculture on its own. It has its own set of rules of interaction, its own language, class system, social hierarchy. ... It is not a culture you willingly belong to, but it becomes perversely comforting once you are in it."

It can also be a complicated place to be when you finally get pregnant. While a positive pregnancy test is the Holy Grail, it also poses a problem.

The editors of Redbook magazine recently found this out when they introduced a new blogger, Lili, to their Infertility Diaries this July. Her first post mentioned she was just back from maternity leave with twins, which threw many readers for a loop.

One, called SarahKt, wrote: "Lili's wonderful announcement of returning from maternity leave ... made my insides ball up into a big barren knot. ... Maybe this isn't the space for me at this time. ... It might be nice to have an expanded reach into voices in the infertile world? To hear from others whose stories are still quite ... barren?"

Julie of A Little Pregnant joined Lili as a Redbook blogger in August. So far, she has not found herself in the middle of controversy, despite having a child. This may be because she is already known as a successful infertility blogger.

Nonetheless, she's keenly aware of the fraught relationship infertility bloggers and their audience have with pregnancy.

She says discord can also arise when someone expresses disappointment about the gender of her baby-to-be or wishes fleetingly that she wasn't having twins - or even complains about how uncomfortable she is in the last few weeks before birth, she says. "It's sometimes hard to be happy for someone else when we're so unhappy for ourselves."

It's too early for Ms. Wood to worry about the politics of getting pregnant. For now, she and her husband eagerly look forward to another round of in-vitro fertilization. She may have a successful blog, but she desperately hopes to move beyond infertility. "I never envisioned a life without children."

Online lingo

Infertility blogs boast an entire lexicon of terms, ranging from actual medical terminology to neologisms that reflect the reality of infertile couples.

IF: infertility

FTTA: fertile thoughts to all

RE: reproductive endocrinologist

IVF: in-vitro fertilization

IUI: intrauterine insemination

FET: frozen embryo transfer

BFN: big fat negative (on a pregnancy test)

BFP: big fat positive

BMS: baby-making sex

DE: donor eggs

DPO: days post-ovulation

DPR: days post-retrieval (of eggs)

DPT: days post-transfer

OPK: ovulation predictor kit

Post-beta cry: the letdown after a negative or questionable pregnancy test

Follie: egg-producing follicles

Vagacamera: wand-like device that takes internal sonogram

Wand monkey: the technician who operates the device

2WW: two-week wait to find out whether a treatment during ovulation succeeded

Assvice: unsolicited, stupid suggestions made by people who know nothing about infertility

LBC: live baby check. An ultrasound for no other reason than to reassure a neurotic would-be mom that her baby is, in fact, just fine

DBT: dead baby thoughts

Sources: stirrup-queens.blogspot.com, http://www.alittlepregnant.com, thehardestquest.blogspot.com and fertilityplus.org/faq/acronyms.html

An Interesting Turn of Events

I sat at the keyboard the other day, checking gaming forums, reading your blogging updates (heavens I really need to update my sidebar!), perusing flights to somewhere sunny for the Christmas holiday season (you know, to forget that this is yet another holiday without a child), among other things. And as I frequently do, I opened up my g-mail account to check my messages. What I saw there piqued my interest.

I received an e-mail from a writer for a prominent Canadian newspaper. She had stumbled across this blog and she wanted to know more; would I be interested in speaking with her?

Here, I have to confess (because I know she'll be reading this!), my initial thoughts were, "Riiiiight," (insert sarcastic voice), "Who's yankin' my chain?" So I do what any technologically inclined blogger would do: I Googled her. That lead me to some of her previous articles. She is real and no one is yankin' my chain. Neat!

Now the best part: she's not just interested in me per se, she's interested in the community of IF bloggers. Get that girls?! Yes indeed, you read that right. Our community.

Well, after I got over my initial shock, I replied to her via e-mail. In short, my answer was, "Oh yes, I'm interested in speaking about this. Here's my number, give me a call."

This morning I spent about 30 minutes on the phone with her. I answered her questions surrounding blogging in general: why do I do it? What lead me to it? What sorts of readers do I have? And other questions about my personal journey on this road: where are we now? What are our next steps? What does having a baby mean to me?

You know... the questions we all have answered a dozen times in our minds. It's interesting to know that someone out there is listening.

I can say this with absolute certainty: Even if we never get anywhere with our quests, if we never reach our goals, if we never fulfill our dreams, at least we can educate. We can put a face on the pain and hurt. We can show the world that infertility is real. Infertility affects many people in a myriad of ways. Infertility is not something to be ashamed of or afraid of. Infertility is part of our lives, it is a part of who we are now.

What we go through here makes us stronger. We never realized how much we could do until we were pushed beyond our limits. We never understood that there was an entire world of women (and men) out there going through the SAME thing and with whom we can relate.

You, ladies and gentlemen, you GET IT. And I am proud to have such a wonderful community to turn to for advice, assistance and emotional support. You have helped me more than you can possibly know. Kudos to you. YOU make the difference.


By the way, as a follow-up, I expect a photographer at my house on Sunday. Frankly, I don't think he'll get much to work with (not unless they want to frighten their subscribers!) but hey, if I can put a face on infertility and tell part of my story, shining a light on this subject for other suffering infertiles, our government and policy-makers, then I'll do everything to make that happen. Wish me luck. Oh, and if I can find out when said article is going to be published, I'll let you know.

I need a virtual bar. Now.

I'm getting back in the swing of things at the office following my return from Newfoundland. It was lovely to see the folks and to spend time at Cape Spear, go to Middle Cove, have proper fish and chips, and all that good stuff. Of course, it's also accompanied by the recognition of changes in my family each time I go home now. Seeing my mom and dad get older. Watching them try to do the things that used to come so easily and quickly... and now things take time. Seeing them slow down is tough I guess. I mean, realistically you know it has to happen, but you always hope you can prolong it. Just a little more. Hope that you don't have to see it in YOUR parents... that sort of thing. In the last few years, I've debated moving back home. I haven't ruled it out yet, but you can be certain there are no opportunities for IUI or IVF in Newfoundland. The closest in Nova Scotia, and that would be rather costly on a repeated basis. That's for sure.

Back here in Canada's capital, it's downright chilly today. Yesterday hubby and I hung the Christmas lights. No, they're not turned on, but they're up! It's so much easier to put them up when it isn't -5 outside! Brrr! Would you believe I saw my first snowflakes of the season today? Winter's coming fast! And here I am with NOT ONE CHRISTMAS CARD DONE! I'd better get a move on.

In the office this week, I talked with one of my co-workers. He and his wife (she's my age, 37) have been married for quite awhile. They had decided before getting married that they weren't going to have a family. Well, as they grow a little older, they are rethinking that plan. But his wife still doesn't want/need to experience the whole "being P" thing. So they are looking into adoption with the Children's Aid Society. They've been to an information session and have the package of documents that they now have to fill out. They're considering taking a sibling pair, either same or opposite sex. I would like to pick his brain a little more (in private) about how the process works and more to the point, how did they, as a couple, come to that decision. What fears and concerns did they have and how did they resolve them before getting to that point?

I've been asked (as many of us have), "Well, why don't you just adopt? There are so many children in the world looking for a home." I don't know why we haven't looked into it. Something tells me it isn't our route. I can't explain it really; but it's just not calling to me. It's not something I can see myself doing, but again, I don't know why exactly. Very hard to explain. And very hard to understand. And if I can't understand it myself, then what is stopping me at all? Tough questions. I dunno if I have the answers.

And where are we with the IVF stuff? Nowhere. Not at all. I haven't made any decisions. I haven't gone for bloodwork. I haven't thought about "what next" because it scares the bejeesus outta me. I am so afraid to take that next step. You cannot imagine. (Okay, maybe some of you can. But right now, it seems overwhelming and immense to me.) If I make the decision to try, and fail, I will be devastated, with little support around me. If I make the decision to not try, it's a 50-50 thought: part of me will regret and always say, "I should have tried it" and the other part of me can justify it and say, "So it could theoretically have worked (and thus I'm not a total failure)." That is huge in my mind for some reason. Why? I don't know. But it's immense.

I'll tell you what's immense: hubby and I are going to a girlfriend's 30th birthday party tomorrow. Said girlfriend, myself, and one or two others who will be there are in the IF boat and have tried IUI more than once with no success. We're on the rollercoaster. Still. And yet, tomorrow evening, one of my former co-workers and her husband will be in attendance... accompanied by their six-week old infant.

Now I know it isn't fair to the new parents to ask them to leave such a young child at home. And rationally, I know it's silly of me to want to avoid this new young family. But I do. Yet I WANT to go to my girlfriend's party! Dammit, I do NOT want this to control my life. But it seems to, far too often. I talked to my girlfriend tonight (she and her husband made sure I was aware this infant would be there, God love them for their sensitivity and knowing I need to be prepared). I told her that hubby and I would be there, and the duration of our stay would really depend on how I felt and how well I would be able to handle it all. She understands, of course. I just hate that my brain stops to dwell on this at all. "Normal" people don't think twice about it, do they? I know I wouldn't have in my pre-IF days. In fact, I would probably have been excited to see the baby. But now? Eeesh.

Hand me the rum. I think I'm gonna need a drink to get through this. Pull up a stool and share. I'm not sure about Mel's bar, but this one is open.

Mature Follicles Coming Through!

This morning's wanding revealed NINE follicles.

Okay, okay, nothing to get excited about though. Only three of them have made it to 1.8cm or larger (i.e., mature follicles). And all three of those suckers are on my left side. There's a fourth one on the left side that's a bit smaller (1.67) and on the right, five of em that are partying, although the party is dying out. They're not going to live up to the task, unfortunately. But three ain't bad. The endometrium is over 1 cm and that's fantastic.

So, with that, I got my HCG injection this morning (ouch!) and I go back tomorrow to use the ENTIRE vial. That's right. No splitting it this month. One time and one time only. This is the last kick at the can and I'm not willing to risk losing any of that sample in the thaw, refreeze, thaw process. So we go tomorrow to use the whole shebang.

We're getting to that IVF package as well. Hubby made his appointment for the semen analysis and I'll wait til next month to get that bloodwork done when I have no meds in my system. I expect a 2-3 month wait before we can get an appointment, so no rush I guess.

And after a few weeks of some stress, hubby and I had a shouting match... err... long discussion last night about a few things. Turns out he was really worried about our future because he thought that at the end of all of this, if we aren't successful, he was afraid that I would leave him. My heart broke. When he said those words, I must have looked so shocked. I had no idea that he was even contemplating that possibility or internalizing that. Because frankly, it never even entered my mind. This is my husband, the wonderful man that I fell in love with seven years ago, and when I said, "I do," I damn well meant I DO. I am NOT going anywhere; he's stuck with me now whether he likes it or not. :)

Two Years

Today is June 14, 2007. It is my friend's daughter's 10th birthday today; she's finally entering the "double digit" years. I'll call her later and I'm hoping to take her out with hubby's kids next weekend to a movie and to have the kids over for a swim.

Today is June 14, 2007. On this date in 1996, my paternal grandmother passed away suddenly while I was in Japan teaching. She had been in a home for some time, afflicted with Alzheimer's. When I last saw her at Christmas in 1995, she didn't recognize me although I was able to hold her hand and tell her that I loved her. I was unable to attend the funeral; I regret that to this day. I regret that I never got to say goodbye.

Today is June 14, 2007. I had my first IUI in September 2004, and it ended with a miscarriage between 4 and 5 weeks. Had it held, I would have had a two-year old child today. Two years ago today, June 14, 2005, was my due date. But it didn't hold; my arms are still empty. And I am beginning to doubt that it was ever meant to be.

Coping... and Next Steps

The Red Wench (aka AF) is gone and I've already started Clomid for this cycle. At this point, I don't know whether to laugh or cry about that.

Thank you for your kind words. It is so good to know that there are people here who really GET IT. You understand. You've been there and you know the pain, the tears and the grief. It's draining isn't it? I feel utterly drained when the realization hits me that yet again, the IUI didn't work. I get lethargic. I get weepy. I withdraw and want to curl in a ball under the covers and not come out for a week. I become resentful and sullen and quiet. My friends see this and they know. They encourage me and give me a shoulder to lean on. But I wonder how much of my seesaw emotions my friends can truly deal with. I'm sure many of my male friends are just sick of it by now... one or two in particular. Logicially, they understand quite well what I'm going through. But psychologically? Emotionally? I'm not sure. YOU guys do get it though. And that is why I am here. Because sometimes I need to lean on this thoughtful, caring community; I know you've travelled this path as well. And together, somehow we'll get through it.

I am trying very hard to look on the bright side and maintain my (normally) positive outlook on life. On the positive side, we've only really tried three times with GOOD sperm. A mere three times where we had a real chance. That isn't all that many, is it? Or am I deluding myself? Sure, we tried for ages with my husband's aspirated sperm, but we never knew the quality of that sperm, the quantity, the motility, whether there were issues, etc., because when you aspirate, you cannot get enough sperm to do a semen analysis. So after biting the bullet and moving to a donor, we've only had three attempts. In the grand scheme of things, that is relatively reasonable right?

Anyway, reasonable or not, I just spent another $1500 for three more samples. But this time, a different donor. The one we had used last time is not available at the moment. Hubby and I narrowed down our choices and we sent in our list of three. Of that list of three, our first choice isn't available, but our second choice is. And from what I can gather, he's relatively young. For some reason, that strikes me as odd... having a young guy come in to "get the job done." I'm crossing my fingers that his sperm CAN get the job done. If we aren't successful with these three attempts, we're moving to the bigger, badder version of all of this: IVF.

I have an appointment on CD8 to determine whether I'll be using Pure.gon again this time around. And an appointment for that PAP shortly thereafter. Here we go again. I hate this rollercoaster now; does the ride ever end?

Minneapolis Meme!

Yes folks, I'm still in Minneapolis. And now that my conference is over, I can finally BREATHE! On Tuesday, I took 17 pages of notes; I've yet to type them and make sense of my chicken scratches. But I'm still alive. I'm staying with my sister in her hotel room at the moment and seeing as her WiFi is free, I'm finally catching up with everyone out there in blogland.

And in all that catching up, I see that Shlomit at You're Still Young!! has tagged me. Tagged!? Me?! Heck, I didn't even see it coming. I didn't even get a second to duck! Sheesh.

Anyway, according to the rules of the (stealth) tagging, I am to share eight true things about myself and then turn it over to you. If you want to know more about the info herein, post a comment and just ask. Okay you ready? Here we go...

1. Okay, I confess. My writing doesn't look like chicken scratches. I'm actually very proud of my handwriting and I love the feel of a pen in my hand. I've been stopped by strangers who comment on my handwriting. When I lived in Europe, I adored going to the papeteries (shops that sell notepads, paper, pens, etc.). I'm the sort of person who would gleefully spend $4500 on a Mont Blanc fountain pen if I were flush with money. Of course, if I were that flush with money, I'd run straight to IVF/ICSI wouldn't I?

2. I thrive on stress. Something about pressure and stress of deadlines, responsibilities and the need to fulfill committments or live up to expectations drives me like nothing else. I love to make other people happy and do the best job I can doing everything I do. In keeping with that, I just accepted a temporary assignment as the Acting Manager of my section. Long story. I'll fill you in later. *chews nails* Did I do the right thing??

3. When asked in interviews, "What is your greatest strength?" and "What is your greatest weakness?" my response is the same: I am a perfectionist. Being a perfectionist is a bit of h*ll though; some part of me can never relax and just say that everything is done.

4. I wish I had another degree. I have two, a B.A. in French with an English minor, and a B.A. Honours in Translation. However, I desperately wanted to attend a university over in Europe (apparently the only one in the world) that offers a degree in Translation with a Terminology specialization in one of the three fields of Science, Medecine or Technology. I love all three fields and it would be hard to make a decision. Oh well. I'll never have to. I'll never get it I'm sure, but I can dream.

5. Hi, my name is Gil and I am a gamer. *Chorus* "Hi Gil." In 2001, my hubby introduced me to online gaming. I started playing EverQuest and I migrated to Everquest II in November 2004 when it launched. I love playing in the virtual world and I have met people and made friends all over the world because of my gaming link. I have played the same character now for 6, going on 7 years, and that builds a reputation on the server (a roleplaying server, Antonia Bayle) and in the game. I'm an officer in my guild (Raven Guard) and I hope I do a good job of promoting roleplaying, public relations, organizing events and providing information to people. Back to the perfectionist thing... no point in doing anything half-a$$ed right? By the way, I also keep a roleplaying journal for my character online. I update that about once or twice a week for my friends' reading pleasure.

6. I hate being so far from my family. I wish I could do what I do now, but do it at home nearer to everyone that I love. I would move in a heartbeat if I could find good work. I hate that I can't even take my mom out for lunch now and then. And God, I miss the ocean.

7. My family likes to tell me that I can succeed at anything. H*ll, even my RE said that to me once; that he knows that I can do anything I put my mind to and that failure is not an option. Except for two things... I have never been able to do the one thing that I would love to do. Lose weight. Not successfully. And now, I can add IF to that. That beats on my psyche. It's very difficult to accept and deal with, as so many of us know.

8. I wear a few pieces of jewellry that are very important to me. My engagement ring and wedding ring of course. Then I have a ring with a large emerald (my birthstone) surrounded by little diamonds on my right hand. That was a gift from my parents on my 22nd birthday; on that same day, back in 1992, I graduated with my first degree. My gold hoop earrings were a gift from my paternal grandmother. My diamond earrings (two holes in each ear) were a Christmas gift from my husband. And around my neck, a long gold box-chain (from my mom). On that chain, I used to wear a pendant that belonged to my maternal grandmother. When she passed away in 1988, each of the women in the family got a piece of her jewellry. That was mine and until earlier this year, I wouldn't ever be parted with it. Though for fear of losing it, I just recently received a new pendant from my husband and I tucked my grandmother's pendant away for safekeeping.

There you have it. My meme for today. Now, over to you. If you have questions, post them in the comments and I'll do my best to answer you.

AND I'm to tag five others. So, over to the following people:

Pam @ Baby Wanted: Apply Within
Marie @ Can PCOS and CBAVD make 3?
Eric @ Life as a Dad to Donor Insemination (DI) Kids
Vee @ The Sweet Life
Samantha @ Jason and Samantha's Journey to Parenthood


For those of you looking for an update on the IF front, I've NEVER had to pee this much in my life! This is nuts. Either I have a UTI or this month worked. Lord, I hope it's the latter. Love to you all in blogland!

What the... ?

Yesterday afternoon, a glorious Friday with the sun shining, a high of 21 degrees in Canada's capital (woo hoo! I think I can take the tarp off our pool this weekend!) and I'm sitting at my office plugging away until 3 p.m., just doing my job when whammo! Sharp, stabbing pain in my abdomen on CD20 or 8dpo. I doubled over in pain. Holy heavens! I was there in my little cubicle (cause we all know, government employees never deserve a door, right?) and had to back away from my computer to bend over and BREATHE through it.

What the heck? I mean seriously. The pains lasted about 5 or 10 minutes, and were centred right smack dab in the middle of my belly. Ugh. My mind started racing... AF arriving early? An m/c in the making? Dare I dream of implantation? No no, that would be stupid. *dismisses it quickly* Whatever it was, it hurt like the dickens and I'm just hoping that it stays at bay. Any of you have thoughts on what it might have been? Very weird... all very weird.

On another note, it seems like I MIGHT get the go-ahead to attend a conference in Minneapolis in May. I'm looking forward to that, not only for the conference's sake, but because I have a good friend just north of Minneapolis in Andover, and my conference just so happens to overlap with my sister's conference the same week. My sis lives in West Virginia with her husband. You remember my sis right? The one who loves me and gave me a swift kick when I needed it? Yes. Her. I love her so much. I wish she was closer. Anyway, I haven't seen her since the fall of 2005. It'd be GREAT to catch up with her. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the final approvals come soon and sis and I can plan an evening or two with her to do dinner and shop at the Mall of America!

Meds Make Me Mad

Yes indeed, mad, mad, mad. Crazy mad. Insane. Freakishly flipped. And all within two or three days.

For months now, I've been off all medications and feeling SO wonderful. Even my mom commented on it when she came to visit last month; how I am my "old self" again. Much happier, positive, outgoing and upbeat. I was really feeling more like myself. No signs of depression, frustration, anger (other than the normal stuff). And certainly nothing like the outburst I experienced yesterday. Dear Lord. I swear I grew horns overnight.

It's obvious I'm back on fertility medication. Plain as the horns on my head and the tail protruding out my ass. I'll just take that pitchfork and shove it... well, let's be polite shall we?

So to my hubby, I apologize, publically and profusely. I am a madwoman. The best advice I can give it to just give me a wide berth and know that it has absolutely nothing to do with you, and EVERYTHING to do with the meds. And remember that I love you.

The Long Talk

So on to the "long talk" that hubby and I had the other day. We talked about a few things, and of course, discussed the whole donor insemination thing, the having kids at all thing, the financial thing (which, admittedly, my husband is NOT good at!), and the talking to family thing.

The donor insemination thing
Well, turns out that my husband is fine with donor insemination. He was just having doubts for the moment about how it would all turn out. He wonders how many times we ought to try donor insemination (dIUI) before we ought to sign up for IVF/ICSI. That's a really good question. I am not sure I know the answer to that one. Some people try for a few months, others pursue the dIUI route for a year or more. Having gone through two years of aspirated IUIs and all that that entails emotionally, I don't know if I have it in me to do dIUI for a year. For now, we have two vials left of the three that we'd purchased. We'll use one next month (barring results from the bloodwork). And then... down to one. Do we buy more after that? Use the same donor or another one? Or sign up for IVF/ICSI right away? All things for us to consider.

The having kids at all thing
My husband goes through periods of doubt about having children again. I guess this is normal for 'second-time-around' dads; I would think it is anyway. But in his case, he worries about raising the children as well. When his two children were babies, it was he who stayed home with them. He fed them. He changed them. He got up in the middle of the night with them. He made their baby food from scratch with a blender. He mixed formula. He washed all the laundry. The children's mother went back to work shortly after having each of their two children and he stayed at home to care for them. Essentially, he was a stay-at-home dad. And that was fine for them back then. Although along with much of that, he did the cooking, cleaning, taking care of the house, etc. And I think he resents having had to do all that work while his (now ex-) wife worked a minimum wage job and then came home and did nothing to contribute to keeping the house. So he fears having to do all that over again, by himself. He knows how much work it is to care for an infant and he worries about the fact that he did it all once before. Yet, if the truth be told, he knows very well that I am not content to sit and watch other people do work. He knows I am a stickler for a great many things. He knows that I wouldn't sit idly by and let him raise our child; that's just not me. But every once in awhile, that fear niggles at his brain again. Understandable.

The financial thing
Eeesh, my hubby is horrid with money! Like many women I know, I've taken over the financial responsibilities of paying bills, stuffing a little bit now and then in a savings account and putting away money in RRSPs, preparing for the future and unexpected expenses. Hubby just sucks at doing that stuff. His mentality is, "Ah ha! Money money money money... spend spend spend spend!" And I give him a thwap and tell him, "No! Down boy!" and pull the money away to take care of our essentials first. I know that if and when we have a child, the responsibility will fall to me to put some money away for education, eventualities, and unexpected things. He was simply afraid that he was so bad with the cash flow, that he couldn't afford to have children at all! No, not the case. He knows differently now.

The talking to family thing
Over the weekend, hubby went to see his family. There have been some major developments in his immediate family, all of which he's now caught up on. You see, hubby doesn't see his family much. He sort of considers himself the black sheep of the clan. But this weekend, when he went to his mom's house, he took the time to fill them in with our efforts on the TTC front. He told them about the tests. About the IUIs. About the aspirations. About the monthly ups and downs that all this entails. He told them about our decision to use a donor. He told them about our break. And he told them that we will try again. What he got from them was support. Colour me shocked. Yes indeed. A lot of support. They made suggestions (e.g., adoption from Canada, from abroad, using IVF, and the general "What if Gil went home to lie down after the procedures?" sort of thing), and they told him that they were so sorry for the things they've done and said to negate his (and my) emotions and actions. Yeah, there's a lot of history there; I won't get into all of it. It'd bore you to tears, trust me. But the support from his family is very much needed, and most certainly welcomed. I think we'll be going to see his family a little bit more now that we know where things stand.

I continue to wait for next Monday when I'll be going for CD23 bloodwork. So for now, all's quiet on the western front...

Pancake Day Traditions

Tomorrow is Shrove Tuesday (aka Pancake Day) for much of North America. Traditionally, pancake day is the day before Ash Wednesday and is the last day before the beginning of 40 days of Lent. During Lent, it was customary to give up little pleasures. In today's society, some people will give up using credit cards for Lent, or drinking pop, or eating candy, things of that ilk. Years ago, it was customary to give up eating meat for Lent, and to use up things like meat, butter, flour, the tradition of Pancake Day began. Pancake Day, is the last day to use up these ingredients before the Lent season begins.

In my home province of Newfoundland, Canada, we have our own traditions on Pancake Day. There are Pancake Day Races, church breakfasts, etc. And just about every household I know participates in making and eating pancakes for the evening meal. However, there's a twist.

In Newfoundland, you are supposed to put trinkets into your pancake batter. Each trinket was symbolic of the future and it was so much fun as a child to try to find the trinket that you wanted. I carry this tradition with me wherever I go, and every year, on Pancake Day, I still make pancakes for my husband and me. The trinkets traditionally used were the following:
-- a penny, to symbolize poverty
-- a nickel, to symbolize wealth
-- a string, to symbolize a fisherman (if a boy got the string, he would be a fisherman, if a girl did, she would marry one)
-- a wedding ring, to symbolize that you would marry soon
-- a button, to symbolize that you would never marry
-- a nail, to symbolize that you would soon pass away
-- a thimble, to symbolize that you would be a seamstress (a girl) or a tailor (a boy)

In our house, my mom never included the nail when we were kids for fear that we would inadvertently bite it and harm ourselves. Consequently, as an adult, I've never put it in my batter. Not to mention it's a tad morbid too! Additionally, now that we have one and two dollar coins in Canada, folks generally shun the idea of the penny/nickel thing, and put in lots of money for people to find, sometimes up to $5 worth! As children, my sister and I used to consume far too many pancakes in search of the ring or the money, and we despised getting the button.

This year, I am especially blessed. Mom and my aunt are visiting me and they will be here to celebrate Pancake Day with us. We're figuring out what to put in the batter now. There'll most certainly be money and a button, a thimble and likely a ring. We will probably omit the nail and the string; we'll see. Either way, it promises to be an enjoyable tradition that I get to celebrate with my family.

There's one thing missing though: the knowledge that some day, I can pass these traditions on to my own children as my mom has done for me and my sister.

**Edited to add**
For those who might be wondering, I got $2.35 out of my pancakes.

Reminiscing about Japan

In about 24 hours from now, I will be picking up my mom and my aunt at the airport. They're coming for 11 days for a bit of a holiday. Well, okay, their real motivating factor is to see Rod Stewart in concert next week. To heck with me. I'm just providing space to lay their heads! (Kidding! Kidding!) I always enjoy seeing family; I guess that comes from having been away from them for so long. From ages 19 to 22 I bounced back and forth to Saint Pierre et Miquelon, and then at age 23 (in 1993) I left Canada to go to Japan for three years. I haven't lived in my home province since then. Wow, that was almost 14 years ago. What happened? Where does the time go?

So much time has passed since then; I feel like that part of my life is almost like a dream. You see, while I was in Japan, I was dating a very handsome Japanese man (Yasuhiko is his name), and he and I were a couple for about three years. Even when I left Japan, we tried the long-distance thing for awhile, but neither of us knew when we would see the other, so after four or five months of that, we let it go.

But through all these years, Yasu and I have stayed in touch. We send e-mails now and then. We send Christmas cards (well, okay, he sends me Nenga-jou, or New Year's cards) and we keep each other updated on our lives. I even invited him (and a number of my Japanese friends with whom I still keep in touch) to hubby's and my wedding in 2004 but unfortunately he was unable to make it.

Each year, I get a card from him and I get to catch up on what he's doing. He told me when his mom passed away (I was blessed enough to meet his parents; a huge thing in Japan that is often a prelude to popping the question). He told me when his older brother (Hirohiko) got married. One year, a card arrived and he told me that he had gotten married to a lovely lady by the name of Chiemi.

This year, my Nenga-jou arrived shortly after the New Year, after hubby and I returned from our trip to Florida. Lo and behold, with that card was the announcement of the birth of their baby girl, born on Christmas Day 2006, and in typical Japanese fashion, imprinted on the card was a tiny picture of the baby.

For a split second, I stood in my kitchen and bit back the tears. Yasuhiko and I had talked about marrying and having children, all those years ago. But at that time, he wasn't ready to ask me to stay in Japan; he wasn't ready to pop the question, and before you can say "Gaijin" I had to be on a plane back to Canada before my visa ran out. I cried buckets of tears on that airplane, leaving him and Japan behind. So that dream never panned out and life moved on.

And now Yasuhiko and his wife have a beautiful little baby girl. And forgive me even saying this babe (I know hubby reads my blog) but one little tiny part of me had hoped that his children would have also been mine.

I'm thrilled for him of course. But this year, seeing my step-son at 11 years old and my step-daughter at 12, well, I wonder what would have happened if I'd stayed in Japan in 1996 instead of getting on that airplane.

Life leads us down many paths; I guess it's up to us to figure out why and to keep walking.

The Room That Shall Not Be Named

For the last few days, hubby and I have been busy every evening, up to our eyes in sawdust, woodworking tools, paint cans, measuring tapes... eeesh, I'm dizzy just thinking about it. Our goal is to strip and refinish "The Room That Shall Not Be Named" before Friday, February 2.

I bought the house in December of 2001, and hubby and I moved in in late January 2002. Shortly thereafter, my aunt, a seamstress by trade, worked her magic and made lovely curtains for all the bedrooms. In that room, I chose a beautiful green and yellow pattern; yellow stars, moons and suns on a green background, with flecks of yellow throughout.

The green and yellow was a no-brainer. You see, The Room has an intended purpose. Oh yes. And many of you infertiles know exactly what I'm talking about. It just screams "nursery" at me. In fact, that room was a major selling point of the house. Forget the fact that it has a large in-ground pool, or a huge finished basement, or any of the other good features. No no, it was The Room that really sealed the deal for me.

And because we have not yet had a child, The Room has been designated under many appellations. It's been called: the small guest room, J's room (when my stepson lived with us), the back bedroom, the white bedroom (originally I just whipped a coat of white paint on the previously grey walls), the room with the walk-in closet, etc. But never, ever, ever will I dare call it The Nur... well, you know. THAT name. So much like in the Har.ry Pot.ter films that refuse to utter the name of the bad guy, I've decided to give it the privilege of being called The Room That Shall Not Be Named.

Anyone who knows me knows darn well I will not, I absolutely refuse to, I positively despise putting pretty pink or pale blue on a room that will be used for that purpose. If ever I have the blessed opportunity to have a child, the room will be yellow, green and white. Crisp, classic, fresh colours. THAT is what I want in The Room. Thus, the green and yellow curtains that I so adore. Thank you Aunt B for those gorgeous curtains! *kisses*

Anyway, in refinishing The Room, we started out with the idea of putting in new laminate flooring. Then I thought if the floor is going to be done, we're going to be taking off the baseboard and quarter round. So, a great opportunity to finally get a nice coat of paint on the walls. To get rid of the bland, boring old white. Ugh. It needed a paint job long ago anyway. I took the material from the curtain and I went out to find a paint to match. Then I thought, well, it'd also be nice to go ahead and put on the white wainscoting that I'd wanted to have in The Room when it finally gets used for its intended purpose. I mean, why bother to do the floors and the paint and then put it all back together in order to tear it apart again in the future? So I bought the wainscoting.

And the renovation work begain. Off came the baseboard and quarter round. Hubby pried up the old and damaged parquet flooring. I've put on the two coats of paint on the full wall, and painted the wainscoting. Tonight, we lay the laminate and either tonight or tomorrow we put up the baseboard, wainscoting, chair rail and quarter round. Put up the curtains again (the inspiration for the whole room) and load in the furniture again. Voilà. New room to enjoy.

In considering whether I would even tackle the work, I wondered why, oh why would I deprive my guests and my own family of having a beautiful room to enjoy? I just think it's a little silly to sit and wait; to count on something that I am never certain about and hold off those plans until... well... heavens knows when, right? Life goes on. I have to live for today and enjoy my surroundings today instead of pinning my hopes on all that. I cannot let it control my life. I didn't want to jinx it before, but you know, I can't think that way any longer. Part of taking stock of my life I guess and moving forward for now, until I cycle again.

And why do we have to do all this before Friday, you ask? Because my stepson will be 11 years old on Thursday. (Side note: I was introduced to him when he was four, almost five, and his sister was six at the time.) And on Friday, hubby and I are going with nine of our friends and their children to a junior hockey game. After the game, three of the kids will be having a sleepover at our house so I'd love to put the room to use. Worst case scenario, they will bunk on the living room floor in front of the fireplace and watch TV and play video games or whatever floats their boat. Besides, it needs to be done before the end of February because Aunt B and my mom are coming to visit for 10 days. And they deserve to enjoy a beautiful room too.

Sending hugs to
Katd over at They Grow in Your Heart. She and her husband are waiting for news from their adoption agency about the birth mother who was matched to them. The birth mother is due this week, but they've not heard from her in awhile and are wondering whether their adoption will take place at all, or whether luck will fall in their laps and everything will go as originally intended. Keep us posted katd. May good things come to you!

**Edited to add**
Ah ha! Caught ya! By the looks of things, I'm not the only one out there with a Room that shall not be named! You guys seem to have them too; I knew I wasn't alone. So I'm opening up comments to you to tell me about your "Room" and what you use it for now, what you would like to do with it, colours, styles, anything at all. Share. :)

Jessica's Story

In my meanderings of various IF blogs, I came across one the other day that just broke my heart. Let me tell you a story...

This is the story of Jessica. She is a 24-year old mother of a young toddler, and experiencing secondary infertility. She has a full-time job and juggles many things as we all do. Her husband, Jason, works full-time as well and they are working on expanding their family, as young couples do.

Jessica called home the other day, and chatted with her husband. He was marinating meat for dinner, he was going to pick up their son from daycare and he would see her when she got home. He told her that he loved her. A little later, she called again because she was doing their taxes and had a question for him. No answer; she thought he was avoiding her. She called again and again. No answer. After work, she picked up their son from daycare and she went home... to a darkened foyer. No husband. No message. Nothing.

A friend of hers came over; Jason had been in an accident and it was bad. They drove her to the hospital, where she soon learned that at 3:38 that afternoon, her beloved husband Jason was taken from her. An accident had claimed his life and he was gone. She is now left to raise their son and somehow find her way in the world.

My thoughts turned towards Jessica and their young son. She is a widow at the tender age of 24. She has to make her way now, without her husband by her side. And then, what of their plans? What becomes of their hopes and dreams? Of their aspirations to add to their family? What sort of plan will she have now for her life? Can she create one or even envisage one without Jason next to her? What happened to the "growing old together" part of their story?

I cannot fathom the pain and grief that Jessica must be going through. And her story made me stop and think; what if? What if (God forbid) something happened to my husband? Where would I be? How would I go on? What path would my life take then? Specifically with regards to the IF treatment we are undergoing, would I continue?

I spoke of this to my husband, relating Jessica's story to him. His first thought was, "Well, you'd have the insurance money." Good Lord! To h*ll with the money! That would be the last thing I'd consider. Fine enough, but what would I do about our treatments? Would I continue? Would I forge ahead and try (at going on 37 years old) to have a child and raise him/her as a single mother? Would I let go of the idea of having children altogether? Would I hope that somewhere down the line I would have someone else in my life with whom I would try to start a family? What would I do?

Hubby gently reminded me that the IF treatment we are undergoing is because of his vasectomy and failed reversal. There is no indication that I cannot get pregnant, we just need good swimmers to do the job (thus our decision to move down our path using donor sperm). So hubby mentioned that he thought I would find someone else with whom I would start a family. I don't know that I could or would do that though. Who is to say? Maybe that would never happen. Maybe I wouldn't find anyone to share my life with. For the moment, I just give thanks that I am lucky enough to have a good man who loves me tremendously. I have him by my side as we travel this road and I am grateful for the love that we share.

I guess Jessica's story just brings to mind the harsh reality that life throws at us sometimes. It makes us think and consider "what ifs" because we are only human, and "what ifs" can and do happen. Have you considered your "what if"?

My heart aches for Jessica and all the infertiles that are faced with a sudden loss that turns their world upside down. My thoughts are with you at such a traumatic time, and I can only hope that one day, you find peace.

The Third Sex

I have been mulling over something that the IF blogosphere has been discussing lately. A few days ago, Mel at Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters brought the topic of femininity to the forefront.

I trembled as I read her words. My eyes welled with tears. She perfectly expressed my feelings of doubt and insecurity about my own femininity. I actually copied a portion of it and sent it to hubby, with the link to Mel's blog to read the whole entry. Below is a relevant excerpt from her blog (with minor editorial changes).

I feel disconnected from my uterus. When I look at all the parts that make me a woman--my breasts and my uterus, my ovaries and my cervix--I don't feel very feminine.

I think what I was coveting wasn't (my friend’s) pregnancy or this particular baby. What I was coveting in the moment was her fertility. Her ability to get pregnant while on birth control. A femininity so ferocious that it knocks synthetic hormones out of the way in order to utilize her ovaries and uterus. That is a f*cking woman and watch her body roar. And after she gives birth, she will use her breasts to feed the baby. She will utilize every part that makes her a woman.

From my point of view, despite everything happening in her body, she is hyperfertile. And it's her fertility that makes her feminine. It makes her a woman. And it is what makes me feel like a third sex. Certainly not male, but not female either.

On my wedding day, I felt like such a woman in that white gown. I felt so feminine and pretty. On my wedding day, I thought I would be pregnant within the year. I walked through that day with so much confidence--with so much femininity--my womanhood on my sleeve. I want to get back to that day when I felt sexual and sensual.

I don't want someone else to make me feel feminine or tell me that I am feminine. I want to feel feminine. I want to feel like a woman.

I can relate to these emotions all too well. To my surprise though, there are many women in the IF world that feel the same way. The question remains though: why do we equate the ability to bear children with our femininity? Rather perplexing, isn't it?

But it's so true. I certainly don't feel male, but not quite female either. Like I'm somewhere in between. I have lost that feminine self-confidence that I once had. I don't feel feminine anymore. I don't feel like a woman. While I want to feel that again, I'm not sure how.

I don't think that anything external can give me that feeling back. I can't put on a fancy dress and makeup, have my hair and nails done and "feel" any more feminine. A chick flick doesn't do it. Not even a night with my girlfriends makes me feel feminine. Sweet nothings whispered in my ear wouldn't do it. Compliments galore wouldn't give that feeling to me. It comes from inside I think. But I think that part of me is gone. Can you get it back? How do you feel feminine? What makes a woman?

Mundane and yet, not so mundane

There are a few things I need to write about today. Some days I have absolutely nothing to add, but once in awhile, there comes a day that just screams at me, "Write it down!"

There's mundane stuff.
I got a call from my RE's office and the receptionist will pop both CD3 and CD23 bloodwork in the mail to me. Superb! NOT. Twice the blood to take. Ugh. Again, the list for CD23 is rather daunting. They'll be checking glucose, hemoglobin, w.b.c. count, FSH, LH, TSH, T4/T3, Prolactin, Estradiol, Progesterone, Free testosterone, DHEAS, Feratin, Folate, Vit. B12, Insulin and for kicks, BHCG. I rather find that last one funny, don't you? *cue hysterical laughter* Oh my. Quite the sense of humour there! Hee hee!

So I'll have that bloodwork done (with the assistance Lorazepam) between now and whenever hubby and I are ready to try again. The receptionist also told me that when that time comes, call them on CD1. She'll have a prescription for Serophene (Clomid) at the pharmacy for me, and book me for a CD8 u/s to start the injectables. That was a decision hubby and I wanted to discuss too; whether we'd go the injectable route again. Insurance does cover it and it can't hurt, so why not? I mean, other than the fact that I'll be sticking myself with needles every morning again, but hey, we all get used to that, don't we? Seriously. It happens all the time in the TTC community. But do you ever really get used to doing that? And do you ever stop focussing on the reason you're doing that in the first place? Emotionally, it pulls at you every d*mn day. It does for me anyway. Maybe I'm just the weirdo in the mix though. *shrugs* God only knows. Anyway, hubby and I decided that yes, we'll go the injectables route again, combined with the Clomid and the donor. And we'll hope for a better result next time.

And the not so mundane stuff.
One of our good friends made a comment in my blog that really hit home.
"Do put everything that you can into (your goals and dreams) but don't put everything that you are in them." I think that is something many of us need to figure out. How far to go, when to draw the line, and when to realize that you begin to lose yourself along the way and it's time to take it back.

Realistically speaking, not all my goals and dreams can or will come true. And at the end of the day, I have to live with myself and who I am inside. If I make my life completely IF-focussed, I lose so much of who I am as a person. To do that would mean I would discount the fact that I've done and seen so very much in this world that many people never have the opportunity to do or see. I would toss away the fact that I am blessed to have a loving, caring husband who would give me the moon if he could and for whom I would readily give my life if I had to. I would not consider the fact that I'm a sensible, capable woman who is an independent, productive member of society. I would forget the fact that I have a wonderful family and many friends who love me very much and want nothing but the best for me. I would ignore that I am a sensitive, sympathetic, generous person who tries to do her best in just about everything. None of those wonderful things would be a part of me if I lose myself in the IF world. And I'm not willing to let those great things go.

My sister wrote me an e-mail awhile ago (I saved it sis; forgive me?!) when I posted about being a failure at this IF journey. And I'm going to take the liberty to reprint it here for you.

I was so mad when I read your message! Raging mad! You are NOT a failure! Anyone that has family and friends who love them as much as yours do is NOT a failure. I repeat - NOT a failure. You are far from it. You're intelligent, witty, charismatic, caring, generous, hard-working (I could
go on and on for years). You may not have had any success with getting pregnant but that does not constitute a failure - in any way. Do you understand what I am saying to you? You are exploring all your options and doing everything you can to conceive a child - that does not reflect someone who is a failure. So get that stoooopid idea out of your head right now and get on with it. Yes, you're allowed to cry mope around for a while, but that's it! You don't have the luxury of giving up and being a depressed lump! That is not who you are - I know it because I've known you your whole life - don't forget! I may be younger than you but I know a thing or two as well, and sometimes you have to listen to me for a change. Got it?

Yup. I got it. Thanks sis. I needed that. For those moments when I feel like I need a kick in the pants or I just need to remember that so many people do care about me, and that IF is not all that I am, I kept this message and I read it.

So for those of you who "get it" or "need to get it," there you go. Straight from the mouth of my sister.

Ringing in 2007

2006 has come and gone, and 2007 holds... what exactly?

Good question isn't it? When you start a new year, do you (as I often do) have high hopes of "changing things"? Or making your life better? Shaking it up a little? Moving forward?

I have those sorts of hopes for this year; to leave behind the negativity that has coloured so much of my perspective for the last six or eight months. I have aspirations and dreams. I have goals. Do I believe I can achieve them? Um... sorta. Kinda. Well... I dunno. Is that good enough?

A question: Why is it that I have so much faith and hope and conviction in other people and so very little in myself? When I tell a girlfriend, "You did the right thing by standing up for yourself in that relationship," or "I really believe that for you and your husband, you will overcome the infertility problems you're facing," or "Regardless of what people tell you, you have to go with your gut feeling sometimes and just know that it will work out for the best," I truly believe those things. I have the courage of my own conviction and intuition that tells me to encourage my friends. To get behind them and give that extra little push. Yet, when it comes to pushing myself, encouraging myself, having hope for myself, I fail miserably.

Yet even with the knowledge that I have little faith for me, somewhere, deep down inside, there is a spark that refuses to die. A burning ember that urges me to go forward. Something that shows me the path.

That little tiny firey ember tells me that I need to concentrate on making ME better right now. I need to stop focussing on my fertility health and start focussing on me, as a person, and getting me back to being "normal" again, even if only for a few months.

I haven't taken one bit of medication since about December 10th, and heavens that feels glorious! I have been able to relax (thank God for that vacation in Florida). I have been able to sleep in and that feels wonderful. I have been able to set some goals and straighten out my thoughts a little more. And Lord knows, I needed to do all of that.

I suppose it's some sort of New Year's Resolution, although I despise even invoking that term, knowing that any "resolutions" that I ever set never come to fruition. So I won't call it that. I'm calling it "Time for a change; Time for me." And I'm going to focus on that time for me until about March or April of this year.

In the meantime, I have a few things to do. I am booked for a CAT scan for next Wednesday to investigate the source of recurrent sinus infections. I have to call my specialist's office to see about getting a new requisition for that CD23 bloodwork that was "deleted" when it was done in October of '06. I am embarking on a few home improvement projects (like installing laminate flooring in the spare bedrooms and sewing with my brand new sewing machine!), and I get to dote on one of my Christmas gifts, a baby Abyssinian Guinea Pig that I've named Scruffles. He's gorgeous!



What about you? What does the new year hold for you, either fertility-related or completely off the fertility path?

Florida Vacation

So it's been a busy week. Can't you tell?



Hubby and I went with my family up to Orlando to the Magic Kingdom. A friend had requested this pic, so I thought I'd share it with you.

A smile. Yeah. And it's on MY face. Colour me surprised. That happens so rarely lately.

Hubby commented yesterday (while we sat in the hot tub with coconut rum drinks in hand) that he's seen me relax a great deal in the last week or so. Slowly but surely the heavy weight seems to be floating away.

It was until last night that is. My mom and aunts, being fans of Rod Stewart, wanted to watch the Christmas special that was on TV last night. I was wiping the table after dinner when it came on and lo and behold, the title of the Christmas special was "A Home for the Holidays," Rod Stewart's contribution to... finding homes for adopted children. I just couldn't watch. I fled to the bedroom to have a little cry, resolving myself NOT to ruin my family's vacation. Mom saw my face and followed me to the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around me and I said, "I'm sorry. I won't ruin your vacation. I won't." I sat down on the bed, head in my hands and she sat down next to me, put her hand on my back and said, "I was waiting for this. Gil... you ARE my vacation honey." Words cannot express how thankful I was at that precise moment to have my mom close to me.

She soon left and I flipped on the TV to see what ELSE was on. I came across a rerun of Reba; the episode where Reba's teenage daughter Cheyenne gives birth. Then another Christmas holiday thing; an abandoned baby on a doorstep. Then yet another Christmas thing with a child's Christmas pageant being portrayed. Argh!!!! That was when hubby and I mixed drinks and went to the hot tub. When all seems lost, coconut rum numbs the pain. Temporarily at least.

Here's hoping I can avoid the Christmas weekend touchy-feely specials that all seem to include children. My emotions can't handle that very well right now.

Sending love to you all in blogland and certainly much love to Smarshy and M at this difficult time. I hope your holidays with the Buggins bring you joy, happiness and a sense of wonderment at this special time of the year. *hugs*