Washing the Dirty Laundry

Well the fertility "vacation" has officially come to a screaching halt.

Did I say "screaching"? I meant "screaming, crying, yelling" screaching halt.

As it turns out, having time off from fertility treatments actually just allows you to sit back and think about what has happened and what's to come and what's changed and who's handling what and how badly. While you're going through the treatments, you don't have time for that stuff. Then suddenly we have all this free time and it's given us a moment to stop, look back, recollect and think: "Holy shit, our marriage has some issues. How did THAT happen?"

After a fabulous day just hanging out together yesterday, we went to a wine tasting. Then took home a bottle of wine which we sat out on the porch and sipped. Which led to talking, which lead to the realization that we both have some major emotional scars, neither one of us believes another round of IVF will work, he's got guilt for the fertility issues, I've got guilt for the cycles not working. I've got mass amounts of anger, which spills out on a daily basis, usually in the form of me overracting to the smallest things. His guilt culminates into him drinking, smoking and generally being irresponsible with his body...which in turn makes me think if he's going to jeopardize our chances of IVF, he must not really care as much as I do, which leads to the never ending loop of more anger. And you know the saying - "when momma ain't happy, nobody's happy."

So after an hour conversation (in which no one was happy)...during which there was a good bit of yelling, arguing, crying, storming out of the room, then storming back in...we've decided:

we need help.

Despite the fact that it was a fight that even Don King would've been proud of, it was a good thing. We aired out laundry we didn't even know we had. We brought up issues the other had forgotten, or didn't know was important. We've been going at this too long with the attitude of "if we could just have a baby, all these problems will go away." It would definitely solve The Great IVF Financial Crunch of '07, but in the end, we'd be just another stupid undeserving couple with a darling little baby, and marriage issues. How stupid would we feel? Going through 4 years of infertility battling for a baby we so desperately want, only to get it and realize we're completely unhappy. It almost seems like the perfect ending to this rocky journey.

By the end of our talk, we both felt better, we felt closer and we (finally) both agreed that we can't handle all this on our own - it's simply too big. We're now on the hunt for a therapist to get us back on track before the next cycle, and to help us along as we go through it. I don't think we need a total overhaul, we just need somebody to help us make sense of it all. We need an outsider perspective to translate between us.

And in the spirit of eternal hope, lasting hilarity and the ongoing cynical view of the Medical Establishment that we've both come to harbor, my husband's final thoughts after all this were:

"If insurance covers therapy, and not IVF...I'm going to be. so. pissed."

What can I say? I love this man.

Keep Your Hands Off My Belly

I saw this in the latest Newsweek. Couldn't resist. Something about it just really hit home with me. Not only can I relate to the annoying drone of family (and even strangers!) asking when we're going to have a baby, but more for when we DO have kids. I don't want to be one of these women that has a baby, drops her life and becomes Little Ms. Housewife. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with quitting your job and staying at home. In fact, just the opposite - I think it's wonderful if you're able to do that. What I'm talking about are the women that have a baby and suddenly their world revolves solely around them. I'm talking about women who discard their own identity and personality - who kick their friends to the curb and do nothing BUT wrap themselves up in their child. It's not healthy to lose yourself like that.

My biggest fear is becoming one of these women that can't stand to be away from their child for more than two seconds. You know the kind that are afraid to let other people hold their kids - where the mom walks out of the room and the baby goes frickin' nuts because she's out of eyesight? Yeah, my biggest fear. I'm horrifically protective of my dog. It's a serious danger for me in the future.

I don't want to be that kind of mom though. I want to continue to grow as an individual as well - I want to go back to school, hit the yoga studio, take up new hobbies, travel. I'm not talking about constantly dumping my future kid off at the babysitter's all the time. But I think it's so important to continue to have a sense of self in all walks of your life. Plus, does it set a good example for your child? Doesn't it build a sense of confidence - your child watching you go back to school when you're 30, 40 or older? Your child seeing you building good strong relationships with friends....the list goes on...

But then again...what do I know, right?

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Stop Setting Alarms on My Biological Clock

If I'm ever going to fulfill my dream of becoming a mother, I'm going to need some better role models.

By Carrie Friedman
Newsweek
July 23, 2007 issue

I am at a party chatting with a woman I know slightly. As her young son squirms out of her embrace, she slips her hand under my shirt. She's not getting fresh with me. She's touching my tummy with her cold hand and asking me, in a concerned voice, "Why aren't you pregnant yet?" I smile, break free from her touch, and head to the food table to fill said empty belly with her brat's birthday cake.

I love children and definitely plan on having them. Maternal instinct is oozing out of my pores: I've infantilized my dogs; I've gotten down on my hands and knees at the park with babies I barely know. My marriage is wonderful and solid, and we are both blessed with good health. I've been a nanny, a teacher, a youth-group leader. I've taken childhood-development courses solely for the purpose of someday raising happy, balanced children. I have always looked forward to becoming a mother.

So why don't I have kids or even the inkling right now? It's because of you. Yes, you: the fanatical mothers of the world. It may seem like ages ago now, but you weren't always like this. You, too, were sneering at the obnoxious parents who brought their infants to fancy, adult, nighttime restaurants or R-rated movies and let them carry on, ruining things for other patrons. You've been terrible advertising for the club that you so desperately need others to join.

If you want me to join your ranks—and you've made it clear with your cold, clammy hands on my stomach that recruiting my uterus is of paramount importance to you—I need to set some ground rules.

First, please stop asking me when I'm going to get pregnant.

For all you know, I cannot have kids. For all I know, I cannot have kids, as I have not yet tried. But imagine how painful this line of interrogation would be if I had submitted to all kinds of procedures, only to come up empty-wombed. It would be emotionally devastating. Yet ever since the day after my wedding two years ago, I have fielded this question from the eye doctor, the dental assistant, my yoga teacher, the bagger at the grocery store. All of them feel entitled to ask. Don't. It's none of your business.

Next, don't completely abandon your own life and passions. You're setting a bad example for aspiring mothers-to-be like me.

I recently expressed my happiness over an achievement I had at work to a mother-friend of mine. She said, dripping with condescension, "Well, you don't know happiness until you've had a baby."

That's very possible, but don't rain on my parade, as I've never said to you, "Remind me, when you went to that expensive college you majored in diaper-rash prevention, right?"

I happen to love my job. It fulfills me in ways no other person—even a child—could. I learned through my own mother's example that the best lesson you can teach your kids is to pursue their passions. It's not selfish to have your own life. In fact, it's selfish not to.

Now let's talk a bit about manners, as in please teach your children some. The world has rules, and kids should learn them. And being well mannered does not infringe on their individuality and freedom.

I crouched to meet the eye line of an acquaintance's 4-year-old to greet her, and in response, she punched me in the face so hard my mouth bled. What was more baffling was the mother's reaction: nothing to the child, but to me she said very sternly: "You really shouldn't talk down to kids."

I also shouldn't be punched in the face by kids whose parents don't know how to set basic boundaries. Experiences like this don't exactly encourage me to hurry up and get pregnant.

Finally, don't make your kid an extension of your own narcissism.

No one could possibly love your kids as much as you do, so stop inflicting them on others. Don't bring your kid to adult parties when you're not sure if it's kid-friendly. If they didn't invite your kid, they don't want your kid there. If you don't want to get a babysitter, stay home.

My husband thinks some people, particularly mothers, behave in these ways because it helps them validate their own choices. But he doesn't truly understand how infuriating it is, and that's because nobody badgers men with questions about procreation.

Becoming a parent was your decision, and I am thrilled for you. All I'm asking is that you let me make that choice in my own time. And keep your hands off my belly.

Looking Back, Taking Stock, and Making Up My Own Fairy Tale Ending

I was just sitting here reading through some of my old posts and HO-LY crap am I a depressing self-indulged whiner. Enough.

So here’s my full fledged (ok, ¾’s) attempt at getting my wits together, my mental state back in tact, my emotions under control and my eye back on the ball. It’s my new “fake it ‘til I make it” approach. It’s going to work. I’m going to shake off this ewwy, gooey funk and I’m going to be excited about the next round.

I was watching Discovery Health today. They had an hour special that followed 5 couples through a round of IVF. It was like watching a home video of one of my own cycles. The initial excited anticipation, the fear of needles, the side effects, the ultrasounds, the procedures, the implantation. And then: Beta Day. Three women: not pregnant. I cried along with every one of them, I wanted to reach through the TV and hug them. And then – two positive tests. Surreal. I thought they were both negative until they hung up and told their hubbies of the good news, they were both crying so hard. The weird part was, I guess I’m so numb to how this all ends (for us so far), that I just watched the positive-ladies and I didn’t quite “get it.”

So part of my shaking off the blahs is trying to imagine that moment. Because right now my definition of IVF is: daily physical pain, ridiculous emotion strain, then crushing disappointment. I need to redefine the last part to make the first 2 parts worth it.

Here is it: Next round is the last round. Why? Because THIS fall, I am going to get pregnant. And it’s going to be Hallmark Perfect. We’ll tell our families at Christmas, while it snows outside. We’ll give them perfect little embryo photos – the first pics for the baby album. It’s going to be fabulous. My due date will be right around our anniversary next summer. It’ll be very sweet and romantic. See? Already – I can’t wait.

[Please – remind me of this in a few months when the pre-needle amnesia kicks in.]

The Drums of Autumn

I love summer. I mean LOVE it. I don’t think a single cell in my body was meant to endure winter. I hate cold, I hate when the sun sets at 5pm. It’s just not for me. Maybe it’s because I was an August baby. I don’t know. There’s just something about summer that makes me SO happy. The sun’s up early, the birds are chirping, things are growing, flowers are blooming. Campfires, playing in the creek with the dog, sitting in a rocking chair with a glass of wine, lightning bugs at dusk, the smell of sweet grass as you’re driving down the road with the windows open. Mmm…I love summer.

The most depressing part of the year for me is fall. Don’t get me wrong – I like fall. The leaves turn, the air is the slightest bit crisp – no humidity, you can sleep with your windows open, great new wardrobes hit the stores. Fall’s great…I’ve got nothing against fall. But it means winter is knocking on the door. And I hate winter.

So I walked into Wal-Mart yesterday and guess what they had? Mums. Potted stupid chrysanthemums. A fall flower. A reminder that summer won’t stick around forever and very soon I will find myself in the doctor’s office again. Instant anxiety. Shit, shit, shit.

I found myself driving home having a crying fit. Over MUMS. Seriously.

Some Facts

A study by Freemen, Boxer, Rickels, Turekc, and Mastroianni revealed that 49% of women and 15% of men described infertility as the most upsetting event of their lives.

Guerra, Llobern, Veiga, and Barri (1998) found that about 60% of infertility patients suffered from an Adjustment Disorder.

According to Baram, Touretelot, Muechler, and Huang (1988), 13% of women had suicidal ideation following a failed IVF attempt.

Women had markedly higher anxiety and depression scores than other women and their stress treatment positively correlated with the type and cost of treatment. The more complicated and expensive, the more anxiety these women reported. Research results suggest that couples entering an IVF-treatment program are, in general, psychologically well adjusted. Concerning reactions during the treatment, both women and men experience waiting for the outcome of the IVF-treatment and an unsuccessful IVF, as most stressful. Common reactions during IVF are anxiety and depression, while after an unsuccessful IVF, feelings of sadness, depression and anger prevail. After a successful IVF-treatment, IVF-parents experience more stress during pregnancy than 'normal fertile' parents. Mothers with children conceived by IVF express a higher quality of parent-child relationship than mothers with a naturally conceived child.A study that included 120 subjects with infertility, 80 fertile women, and 90 women with anorexia nervosa, concluded that infertile women without eating disorders share some of same psychological characteristics as women with severe eating disorders, such as feelings of inadequacy and insecurity.

A study by Organon found:
the majority of women surveyed (61 percent) report making sacrifices in order to become pregnant. These include sacrificing a carefree relationship with their husband (70%), emotional stability (69%), a spontaneous sex life (64%), financial stability (56%) and personal freedom (52%).

some of the most common emotions women experience due to infertility include depression (77%), anger (72%) and anxiety (56%).

69 percent of women surveyed find that scheduled sex is somewhat to very burdensome, where intercourse becomes a chore and results in loss of intimacy.

Forty percent of respondents said someone other than their husband/partner was their greatest source of support, and more than one quarter (26 percent) felt their husband/partner could have been more supportive. Nearly 3 in 10 women (28 percent) did not feel they and their husband/partner shared the same level of commitment and dedication to getting pregnant.
71 percent of infertile women find it burdensome that friends and family frequently ask when they are planning to have children.

52 percent of respondents report that their insurance covers only some or none of the cost of infertility treatments, leading to financial pressures.

40 percent of women surveyed were willing to make a career sacrifice such as putting their career on hold (30%) or declining a promotion that required travel (25%); just eight percent would encourage their husband/partner to change jobs for a more flexible schedule.

Happy Anniversary

Today is our 7 year anniversary.