Wednesday, December 14, 2011

My Own Creme de la Creme (2007)

Everyone knows about the Creme de la Creme list, right? (If not see side-bar). Well, like I mentioned in my last post, it has taken me um, 5 years to get around to submitting anything to the list. Finally, this year, I put my fear of humiliation aside and sent in my submission. I don't know why I was so scared. So, over the next few posts, I am going to share with you the posts, one from each year I've been blogging, that I should have submitted, but didn't. It will be a nice look back on the journey I've traveled since starting this blog, before I move on permanently to my Parenting blog.

This post, from 2007, may not be my best ever, but it was the one, that, while reading through my posts from that year, made me cry all over again. I suppose it is a testament to the fact the feelings surrounding our infertility will always be with me: It is so easy for me to be transported back to that space and remember, on a very visceral level, exactly how it felt to be where I was at that moment. It was also very eerie to read this post, about my jealousy of others' pregnancies, about my deep longing to conceive, and about my desire to move past my jealousy and pain and get on with the rest of my life, as a mother with our son whom we had adopted. Eerie, because this post was labeled "The Elusive Miracle-Surprise" which I moaned would never happen. Re-reading this now, I am hit square in the face with a great amount of awe and appreciation to the God/Angels/Universe that must have been listening all along to my deepest despair--for two years later, I received my very own Miracle-Surprise. It is also very humbling, because, reading it now, I wish I had had more faith that everything was how it was supposed to be, because, clearly the Plan was for me not to conceive at that point in time so that we would adopt. So that Handsome Man would be our son. How I wish I could go back in time to that woman I was then and tell her to have some peace and enjoy her life and be more grateful for what she had. It is hard though, when you are in the middle of it, the heart-deep longing, to let go, as much as I really, really, wanted to. And I have a great deal of compassion, too, for the woman I was then.

So, without further ado, I give you, "The Elusive Miracle-Surprise" originally written in 2007:


Sunday, November 11, 2007

The Elusive Miracle-Surprise

Another friend of mine is pregnant.

I found out as Mister and I were excitedly driving out of town on the way to our first day of vacation. My cell phone rang, and, I was delighted to see my old friend's number. So I answered. And she told me the news. After I hung up, Mister said he was very proud of me, because I did such a good job sounding excited and happy for my friend. To which I replied, "Well, I'm a very good actor." But, the truth was, I am happy and excited for her. And jealous and crushed. Simultaneously. This friend of mine is a bit older than me. (42). She had her first child 4 years ago, and though they struggled for about a year and a half to conceive (natural conception) they had no other issues. Due to my friend's age, she and her husband figured they'd better jump right back on the train and try for number 2 right away. So, for the past 4 years or so, they've been trying to conceive. ART is not for them, and so, after 4 years, and after celebrating another birthday, she figured it was over. She totally moved on. She gave away all the baby stuff she'd been hanging on to (high chairs, clothes, toys, etc.) some of which I was the happy recipient. She told me, the last time I saw her, that she and her husband knew they would just be a family of 3, and that was fine. Done. Moving on. Next topic.

Then, Blam! Pregnant. A total miracle-surprise.

There have been a lot of these miracle-surprises happening lately. There have been several recently out in the blogosphere that I am aware of. And, there's all the second-hand stories I hear everywhere. (Some one's friend's-sister, who only had one ovary, tried for 5 years,yadda, yadda, yadda.) I have heard so many of these miracle tales over the past 3-4 years that I honestly assumed that eventually, one day, MY miracle-surprise would happen. It is what has kept the flame of hope alive through all of the bad news and evidence to the contrary I've received, that one day, it would happen.

So the overwhelming feeling I had when I hung up the phone was, "Where's MY miracle?"

And the following answer my mind and heart came up with was this. Maybe there is no miracle in store for me. Miracles are miracles because they don't happen every day, or to everyone. They are miraculous because they are "not supposed to happen." And the overwhelming evidence suggests that, after 4 years of wanting and trying to have a baby, there is no miracle in sight. In 4 years, I have never managed to get knocked up naturally. We got pregnant one time, on C.lomid, but it didn't stick. And, each month that passes, my already crappy eggs just get older and more geriatric. So, I am most likely one of the people on the other side of the miracle story: the ones you don't hear about. The ones for whom there IS no miracle. One of the ones that never gets her pot of gold. And, being sad, or angry, or jealous, or sorry for myself, won't change the outcome. It won't change the facts. So, then, why waste the energy feeling angry, jealous, and sorry for myself, if the outcome remains the same? Why?

I cried for a while after I got off the phone with my friend, as all these thoughts were swirling around in my head. And then, I vowed I would not let this bit of news ruin my vacation. And I didn't. Furthermore, I gave myself this cycle "off." I decided to not care (as best I could) about where I was in my cycle, what my ovaries were doing, or any of it. I did not bring along my thermometer, did not do any charting, nothing. Also, I drank wine, ate pizza, sweets, whatever I felt like. I started my mornings with my old friend coffee! I even had a cocktail at lunch, no less, one of our days out and about. Because I felt like it. Ha! I just tried to be present and enjoy myself, and my husband and my son. And it was great. There were even moments where, for the first time in a long time, I just felt "normal." I felt like Me.

And, since that day I decided to try and not care any more about my infertility (a weighty undertaking, but I'm trying) I have been repeating a few things over and over to myself. Mantras, if you will. Of course, the aforementioned, "Being upset about it, will not change the outcome. So don't be upset." "Be fluid" or, "Go with the flow." And, "What will be, will be." Also, every time I look at a pregnant woman, I think, "Some women are made to be pregnant. Some aren't. I'm one of the latter. So be it."

I'm not saying that I have reached some sort of higher ground (as you can tell if you read my last post about being in I.kea). But, it feels better than always expecting a different outcome than what I have received.

So when I was at my acupuncturist's office the other day, she asked me how my mood was. I told her it was pretty good, that I was feeling pretty relaxed after my vacation. And then, I told her about my friend. And, the conversation went something like this:

Acu: How do you feel about that? I can see it is making you weepy.
Me: Well, I wish it were me this time. But it's not. And, I'm beginning to think, it just may not happen for me.
Acu: And how do you feel about that?
Me: I just wish I could stop caring. If I could just open up my brain and remove the wiring that makes me care whether I ever get pregnant or not, then, life would be great.
Acu: What would your life look like if you could do that?
Me: Great. I could move on. I could focus on other things. I could just be a wife to my husband, and a mother to my son, and, I have this AMAZING child! We could get our life back on track, financially. We could stop living like we are on hold--in limbo.
Acu: Yeah?
Me: Yeah!
(Pause)
Me: But I'm not quite there yet.
Acu: But, I think this is how you get there. Day by day. You grieve a little, and you let a little go. And then, one day, you come out on the other side of it.
Me: I would like to get to the Other Side of this. I would like to have my life back.
Acu: Then you will.



Maybe I've had plenty of miracles, but have refused to recognize them, because I've been so caught up in my strangle-hold of trying to have a baby. For instance, is it not a miracle, that, despite the fact that my body refuses to procreate, I have here, right in front of me, a beautiful HEALTHY BABY? Is it not a miracle, that, the biological mother of this amazing child picked Mister and me, out of all the people on the frigging planet, and said, 'Here, I want to give you my Baby'?! Is not abona fide Miracle-Surprise that we got matched with our birthmotherthe very first day our adoption profile went up on our agency's site? Is it not a miracle that this baby loves me, and reaches for me, yes me, when he wants his Mommy?

And, the other thing is, I'm tired. I'm exhausted from the caring about my infertility. I'm tired of wanting and not getting. I'm sick to death of the sad feelings and the jealousy and the distance I have had to put between me and my fertile friends, and, sometimes, the world. I'm so tired of giving a shit, that I could just scream. I am ready to be done. I am not quite done, I know, in my heart, but I truly want to be done. Perhaps that is the first step on my road to recovery. When I think of how life will be after I reach that elusive place of not caring about being infertile any more, it makes me very happy and hopeful. So, perhaps my focus is changing. Changing from reaching that pot of gold (pregnancy) to getting past the point where I'm even looking for it any more. To being satisfied with what I have.

Lastly, I still want to do the IUI. I feel that I must pursue, at this point, what options we have, so at least I will know that I did all that I could. I am keeping the flame of hope lit for now. However, I'm feeling (at this point) less committed to the outcome. As I see it, one of three things will happen with this IUI. 1. I'll actually get pregnant! 2. I won't get pregnant, and when it's all over, I'll really be in that place of saying, 'okay, I'm done.' and I'll move on. 3. I won't get pregnant, but we will learn some new information about my body, and how it responds to the treatment that will be encouraging enough for us to go ahead an give it another try.

I think I am ok with any of those.

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