Two Paths

There have been many conversations around our house lately (and some tears, to boot) regarding whether or not (and how, and when) Mister and I will (or will not) pursue bringing another child into our family. I, as you all know, very much want to experience pregnancy and child birth as part of my experience of being a mother. I also would very much like to have a biological child (as opposed to using Donor Eggs, which is also a consideration). Mister, however, couldn't care any less whether or not we have a biological child. He wants to have more children, but whether or not they come from our bodies, doesn't really make a difference to him. It may have to do with the fact that he, himself is adopted, and he is totally secure and happy within his family, and never felt like he was missing out on anything being an adopted child. He never felt the need to seek out his biological parents--he always says that he had the best parents anyone could ask for, so why go searching for something else?

And, that's sort of the attitude he has with our family. Baby Boy is the best child we could have ever hoped for (and he is) so why go looking for something more? When it's time to add a sibling to our family, adoption is a great way to do it. It worked out for us once, why dive into the murky waters of ART and why on earth would we go back to the emotional roller coaster of trying to conceive?

However, he does understand that it is important to me to at least try. Or so he says.

But (and I mean a BIG BUT) we do not, at this point have the means to do IVF or any other expensive fertility treatments. We are still in debt from the adoption (and other things) so, there isn't any money to pursue ART. And, we certainly won't be doing our lives, relationship, or Baby Boy's future any good to go further into debt at this point.

Mister is a logic and statistics kind of person. He looks at the odds, and makes unemotional decisions based on reality. Chances of getting pregnant, even with IVF, are on the low side. The stakes are high, financially (and emotionally, too) so why gamble? Go with the safe bet, and pursue a path that has a 100% guarantee of having a baby at the end of it: adoption.

How can I explain my deep longing to become pregnant, and carry a baby to term? How can I fly in the face of such sound logic and say, "No! We have to choose the other path!"?

Can I?

Even in the absence of trying any expensive ART, Mister does not want to even try the "Natural" path. (Acupuncture, herbs, diet, yoga, etc.) That, too, he says, is expensive. (It can be). And why would we spend any money on something that isn't going to work anyway, when we need to spend any money we can spare on paying down our debt and putting money away for Baby Boy's college?

I don't know, how can we? Why should we?

Is the fact that I feel deep, deep down in my bones that there is a child that is meant to come to us through my body. That, though the challenges are many, that I deserve the opportunity to pursue my dream, so that I can feel that I have done all I can before I give up the dream.

Is that crazy?

Of course, I don't want to push our family into financial ruin. Not for this dream or any other.

But aren't both people within a relationship entitled to pursue their dreams, at least, in a responsible way, as long as both partners can agree? Can't there be a way to move forward that that allows me to feel some empowerment in knowing I am doing WHAT I CAN to pursue optimum fertility?

I am willing to give up many things (and I already have) to make room in the budget: Therapy, manicures, hair stylist (I have actually started cutting my own hair--and coloring of course). I am no clothes horse, and I drive a hand-me-down car. All this I do without complaint. The one thing I want, in the absence of being able to afford medical treatements, is to go to acupuncture twice a month and take whatever herbs my TCM prescribes.

This, I feel, at least, will promote and foster whatever fertility I may still possess.

Am I crazy?

Still there is another side of me that says, "I am tired." I am tired of the trying, the wanting, the hurting, the jealousy and the arguments. There are plenty of times where I look at my son, and think, "This is enough. I am happy." Those moments are wonderful.

Maybe one day soon, I will come to a place where I am totally, 100% fine with not trying anymore to get pregnant.

In the meantime, the stress of doing NOTHING is too great.

Maybe I am crazy. This is sounding a little schizophrenic, even to me.

But, for now, I am doing the following:
Acupuncture 2x month. (I have a new acupuncturist, who specializes in fertility issues, and I looooove her).
Whatever herbs (bleeech!) she prescribes.
Lots of vitamins, supplements (folic acid, fish oil, CoQ10)
Trying (TRYING!) to eat right. No white flour, sugar, caffeine, alcohol.
Trying to gain some weight. (I am one of those annoying women who actually complains about being too skinny.) But it's true, if you saw me, you'd probably tell me to eat a sandwhich.

As soon as my busy season winds down, I hope to do more for my body, such as yoga.

I'm trying to find some time each day to breath deeply. I need to learn to meditate.

I'm trying (TRYING) to think positive thoughts. I know, I know, I've even referred to myself as Miss Negativity. I'm trying to change that. Some creative visualization and positive thoughts can't hurt, at least.

I am going to see a new RE next month to get a second opinion on my diagnosis and prognosis. This is purely a fact-finding mission, since, as you know, IVF is not an affordable option right now. If it even IS an option, with my eggs, at all. Well, I'm going to find out what the deal is.

Two paths, one already traveled, one unknown and full of potholes. Which one will we take?

Negative Spaces

There has been a lot of baby-and-or-pregnancy related stuff going on around me lately. Last week , I attended my friend, J.'s baby shower. I actually wrote a post about the baby shower, but took it down after I received a somewhat 'slamming' comment from an Anonymous lurker. She accused me of being extremely negative. Well, she was right. I was in a very negative place at the time I wrote the post. It is true, that I feel very deep pain about being infertile. I can't help it. I try to think happy thoughts, and focus on the positives. And, doing so helps me get through the negative spots. But, I have to have a place to vent. I guess that really comes out in my posts, and, overall, makes me look like a really negative person. If I had time to post every day, I'd probably post about a lot of other things in my life, things that have a more positive ring to them, but I don't. About once a week or so, I sit down, and write. I write about all the negative thoughts that have been swirling around in my head or things that have been bothering me, hurtful comments that others have made, or situations that I have found difficult to deal with. I have to get it all out, so that my husband, my co-workers, my friends and my family don't have to hear about it. Because they don't want to hear about it any more, I'm sure, and, well, I have to try to go out into the world and seem normal, and hopefully, somewhat minimally pleasant to be around. I especially need to do this for the sake of my son. I want him to have a happy mom. And, blogging about the infertility stuff helps. A place to put it--a way to get it out, and (hopefully) let some of it go, until it builds up again and I write another post. It's sort of like therapy, only, way, way cheaper.

Anonymous was right--I am sure I do come off as being very negative. I have never been a Suzy-sunshine, God-has-a-plan, the-sun-will-come-out-tomorrow sort of person. I am a little more cynical, sarcastic, and distrusting than all of that. But that is not 100% of my personality. I'm sorry if that's all I present HERE. I will try to post about more positive things when I can, but I am not promising things will change over night. So, Anonymous Commenter, if you don't like the tone of my blog. Please find another blog to read. This is my space to spew whatever I want. I don't even NEED anyone to read it, just need to write it. But, thank you for your comments. I have taken the time to really think about them and consider them.

But, I digress. To return to the original purpose of this post:

My friend J.'s baby shower was lovely. She was very pregnant, happy, and glowing. I was very very happy for her. But it was hard to watch. Sorry, but it was. It just was. I was proud of myself for showing up, and participating as much as I could in the revelry. I really made the effort. But, I had to leave after about 2 hours. The rest of the afternoon was difficult. I was PMSing really hard which did not make it any easier. And, yes, I was in a negative place.

Then, this past week, one of the young (18-years-old) girls that works for me as an intern, announced she was pregnant. There was a lot of glee and talk and giggling and general merriment around the workshop in response to the announcement. She claims it was an oops! pregnancy, but I am not so sure. She said she took the home pregnancy test, and said to her mom, as they looked at the pee-stick, "make that 2nd line go away! ha, ha..." This was like a knife in my gut. Luckily, I was in my office--I could hear everything they were saying, but they could not see me crying. As the pregnancy talk went on and on, I had to find some errands to run, so that I could get out of there for a while.

I decided to come home for lunch. To see my hubby, and get a little bit of a baby-fix. Seeing my son's face just cheers me up. He is so precious to me.

However, Baby Boy was taking a nap. And, my husband took the opportunity of my being home to let me know that his brother's wife had just given birth to their third child. A girl, with a beautiful name. I knew the announcement was coming any day. And I am genuinely happy for them. But, at that moment, it just made me feel totally spent and empty.

It is true, I still long to achieve a pregnancy and have a healthy baby. I wish I had a different body and could some how make it happen. I always dreamed of having children (plural) and I always vowed I would not raise an Only Child. However, the reality is that after begging, borrowing and stealing (that is a figure of speech, we didn't steal anything) to hire a kick-ass adoption firm, and then being matched surprisingly quickly with our birth-mother, and pulling a rabbit out of our collective hat to be able to go through with the adoption before we were financially prepared, we are too broke to pursue any Fertility Treatments. It may be a long time before we have the money to do so, by which time, any dim chance we now have, will only be dimmer, or, burned out completely.

So, it is true, the pregnancy and birth announcements, the happy wonderful baby showers for my pregnant friends, they sting. I wish it were me.

However, to set Anonymous Commenter straight: I do value, love and cherish my son. He is the brightest light in my life and I would not want to have a life without him. You are wrong that I don't appreciate him. But, like many women who face secondary infertility (they have a child but cannot conceive a second time) the love I feel for my existing child does not extinguish the longing in my heart for the other child(ren) I always thought I would have. And, in my case, never having had a successful pregnancy and being the only person in my circle of friends who has started building her family through adoption, I can feel very alone in all of this. Some support would be nice. But that is another negative space in my life I need to find a way to fill, I guess.

Now, I am going to go play with the World's Cutest Baby and (Happily! No negativity!) go about my very blessed day.

Dear Fertile People

Dear Fertile,
My name is Frenchie, and I have taken it upon myself to write you this letter on behalf of myself and my other Infertile friends. We have a few requests for you, if you would please take a moment to consider the following:

1. Please, and I mean PUH-LEEAAASSSE (!) don't whine and moan about your pregnancy symptoms in front of your infertile friends. I know you are uncomfortable, and indeed you have every right to bitch about your swollen ankles and your aching back. But, keep it between you and your fellow fertile friends. Trust me, no matter how "fine" your Infertile friend might seem, she DOESN'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT. Consider the following: Though you are struggling with discomfort and even pain, it is nothing compared to the pain of infertility. Your infertile friend would gladly take on all the nausea and discomfort if it meant she could be pregnant and deliver a healthy baby. I know, I know, the extra weight of your pregnancy is making your plantar fasciitis bother you even more, and I know it sucks you have to wear that brace thingy on your foot, but your infertile friend would probably cut off her own leg below the knee and stick in a broom handle for a peg-leg and hobble around on that for the rest of her life if it meant she could be pregnant and deliver a healthy baby.

2. Please, PLEASE! If you MUST complain about your symptoms and problems, DO NOT say something like, "I just wish my body would function normally." Hey, all bets are off when it comes to being pregnant with regard to what weird things your body is going to do, and you signed up for that when you got knocked up. Deal. Again, I know it sucks, but keep those kinds of comments to yourself. I guarantee your infertile friend is thinking, "Well, your body functions normally enough to make a baby!" Trust me, she'd trade places with you in a fetal heartbeat.

3. If you have recently found yourself pregnant, don't try and hide it from your infertile friend, but be nice, and find a time when you are not at a party or some other gathering to give her the news. Do NOT under any circumstances, start musing about how easy it was to get pregnant, or what strong swimmers your husband must have. Such comments are dangerous, because they have been known to send Infertiles into psychotic fits. If you must talk about such things, make sure the room is clear of sharp objects.

4. Be supportive of your friend. Especially if she has 1. had a pregnancy loss (no matter how early in the pregnancy), 2. has recently gotten bad news on the type of infertility she and her partner are facing, or 3. has recently had a negative pregnancy test after a cycle of IVF or IUI. Treat these things with the same reverence and caring you would give her if she had 1. lost a "real" living child. Believe me, from the moment she got a positive pregnancy test, that child was very real and living. 2. had just found out about another serious medical crisis, such as cancer. Studies show the stress Infertiles deal with is the VERY SAME level as those dealing with life-threatening illnesses such as cancer. It is a very real life-crisis. 3. had just gone through a very expensive and risky procedure to potentially cure her life-threatening illness, and was told by the doctors that it didn't work.

5. Speaking of IVF and IUI, take TWO minutes to go on the internet and find out what some common lingo is in your friend's world. Really, you should know what an RE is. COME ON!

6. When you do spend time with your infertile friend, please understand, she may not want to hear about every other friend, co-worker, family member or acquaintance of yours that is ALSO pregnant. I know pregnancy is very much on your mind right now, but find SOMETHING ELSE to talk about, honestly. Every new pregnancy announcement is like a dagger in your infertile friend's gut.

Thank you for taking the time to consider these suggestions. If we work together, the relations between Infertiles and Fertiles can hopefully improve.

Yours,
Frenchie

Miss Negativity

I haven't posted in a while, and mostly it's because (same old story) I've been reeeeallly busy at work. But, there is another reason. I've been in a bit of a negative tailspin lately. I didn't want to bore you guys with all my negative pissin' and moanin'. But, here's a quick overview:

1. I can't stop comparing myself to other people.
And by other people, I mean other people who are fertile. My friend J. is due in September. After a few months of marriage, she fell pregnant, and, at age 36 is (thankfully) experiencing a healthy pregnancy with no issues. I don't know why, but lately, it's been bugging me a lot. And, I've been practicing avoidance. I keep meaning to call, but I don't. I keep meaning to make a date to get together with her, but I don't. I keep meaning to send her a package with all of Baby Boy's too small clothes, but I haven't. The thing that's really like a knife in the ribs to me? If any one could AFFORD fertility treatments, or private adoption, (or all of the above) it's J. She married a Google bazillionaire. But, I digress. My sister in law, K., is due next month. Number three. Enough said. There are lots of other pregnant people or those who have lots of bio kids. But, the list is too long.

2. I keep thinking about my miscarriage. Get over it, right? It was a year and a half ago. But, I keep thinking, that was my one shot. The ONE time sperm met egg (that we know) and I got to know the feeling of seeing two lines on the pee stick. And then it was gone.

3. I am so burned out right now with my job. Too many things here to discuss, but, let's just say: employee "issues", long hours, early mornings, needy clients, and... if you want something done right, then the owner of the company (me) better do it. UGH.

4. I look in the mirror, and, who the f#@%! is that old, harried, wrinkly, frumpy looking woman!? Depressing.

5. My ovaries. I'm obsessed. What can I do to dust them off and make them function?

Okay. So. I need to get out of this dreary dump. So, I'm formulating The Plan. As long as I have A Plan that I can work on, then at least I can feel like I'm doing something, instead of just circling around in the dumps. It will give me a focus--and somewhere to put all that negative energy, and hopefully take the edge off. Will hopefully make me more fun to be around. (I will create a separate post for the The Plan, next.)

Before I go, I would like to try and balance the negativity scales, with some gratitude. Very Oprah, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Here I go:

Things I am grateful for:

1. My son. Amazing. Beautiful. We definitely won the lottery. Love of my life. There are not enough words.

2. My husband. My best-friend. Endlessly patient with my ever changing moods. Pretty much a saint. Awesome dad.

3. My pets. Daisy, Max, (thank you God for helping him survive the pit-bull attack!), Molly. Unconditional love. Always.

4. My home. It is small. It needs work. I complain about it all the time. But it's ours. We actually own a home in the Bay Area. And, it's probably the place my son will have his first memories.

5. Even though I'm burned out right now--at least I have a career. I have something to be proud of. I gave birth to something--my little empire. And, a reason to get up every morning whether I like or not, has been a life saver (literally) during the really really dark days over the past couple of years. (Note: NOW my biggest reason to get up in the morning is my son, and I'd be happy to spend my days with him. But, you know what I mean about the job.)

Okay, well that's five for five. So, that's good. Must focus on the positives.

Sick

After weeks of running myself ragged, working my tail off, and generally burning the candle at both ends, my body has finally thrown in the towel. My body is rebelling--what started out this morning as a tickle in my throat has progressed to a full-blown sore throat (the kind that makes it hurt to swallow or speak) a throbbing headache, and a general "icky all over" feeling. Sure to follow tomorrow: stuffy/runny nose, and more of the head-in-a-fishbowl sort of experience, fever. Hopefully, it will peak at just a cold, and not turn into a full-on flu, or worse, something requiring antibiotics (sinus infection, strep throat). Of course, I am afraid to go near my son, because I don't want him to get sick. And this is really depressing to me, because, the biggest joy of my day is spending time with him. It's frustrating--beacause the reason I'm working so hard right now is for him--in a way. We are so unbelivably in debt from the loans we had to take and the money we spent out of pocket to facilitate our adoption, that I can't afford NOT to work my ass off this year. It makes me really angry, because, most fertile people don't have to go into huge debt to start a family. They just have sex. Which is free.

And, if we weren't so financially backwards right now, I'd not have to work as hard, run myself down, and go crazy. And, I'd get to spend time with my baby.

But, I digress. We are where we are. We have the situation we have. Of course, it was worth every single cent that we spent to adopt him. And he's worth working as hard as we have to to make it through this time in our lives, and rebuild financially, so that he has everything he needs. I'd walk over broken glass for my new little family. They (hubby and baby boy) are so precious to me.

So, of course, tomorrow, sick or not, I'll be back off to work. (And the nanny will be hangin' with baby boy, watching her Spanish soap operas, chillin' on the couch. Grrrrrr.)

Stuff and Things

I'm still here. I've just been really in my head lately. You might say on the verge of being depressed, but waaayy too busy to be depressed. I know I sound like a broken record, but I'm totally drowning with everything on my plate right now. Right now it's past midnight and I am wide awake with a churning stomach and a busy brain, just stressing out over all the loose ends and to-do's in my world right now.

I've been ruminating over a lot of things. Things I'm not ready to write about, but will, soon.

I actually got an estimate from Merry Maids today. Despite the fact that my house is a minuscule 760 square feet or so, I can't seem to keep it all clean. And, it's expensive. I dunno, maybe it's worth any amount of money at this point just to take one thing off my mental to-do list.

Alone on Infertility Island, or, What's So Wrong With This Island, Anyway?

I am feeling very melancholy, as my one and only Infertile Friend has set sail away from the Island, happily waving goodbye to me from her lovely raft. After her first IVF attempt, she is blissfully pregnant...has seen the heartbeat (which I never got to you might remember, from my one and only pregnancy) and is already starting to "complain" about her morning sickness. Or as she calls it, "all day sickness." Before I go any further down self-pity lane, please let me say that I am really and truly happy for her. Of any of the many, many people I know who are pregnant right now, or who are new moms, she deserves it (in my Infertile eyes) more than anyone. She is a dear, sweet, loving person, who will make an awesome mother. She and her husband have fought long and hard for this, and I honestly do wish them the best. Okay? I'm not a total A-Hole. It's just that, now that she's made it off the island, I feel so, so alone. Granted, I am here on the island with my own wonderful son, Baby Boy (aka World's Cutest Baby). And, I am so in love with this little guy, and so grateful that he is here with me. However, what many people don't understand is, adoption doesn't "cure" infertility. It doesn't totally erase the feelings of 1.Longing. Longing for that long-sough-after, long-wished-for pregnancy. The longing to feel life growing inside you, to know that you are bringing life into the world from your own desire for children, your love of your partner, and the strength of your own bodies. 2. Loneliness. The feelings of loneliness when it doesn't work, you finally admit that your body doesn't work like everyone else's (and every one else around you is working the baby-making thing overtime). The loneliness of feeling like a freak-damaged goods, inferior. Whatever you want to call it. The loneliness of not being part of "The Club." Even though you may finally be a parent, you'll never be part of that elite club of women who did it all. Conception, morning sickness, the big-belly waddle, back pain, labor, delivery, etc., and who will always have a genetic connection to their children. Nothing could make me love my son anymore than I do, but how do I explain to a Fertile Person that it kills me that I can't claim any credit whatsoever for how adorable he is, other than the clothes I chose to dress him in? That his cute nose, his red hair, his gorgeous eyes, his beautiful smile--all those things he got from someone else. 3. Despair. Despair because time is running out. Each day, each week, each month and each year, our chances get a little slimmer that a miracle could still happen. That we one day might be granted access to The Club. 4. Jealousy. Sorry, but it's hard not to be jealous of that 20-something pushing the stroller down the street, with her big, swelling pregnant belly signaling she's got another one on the way. And jealousy brings us back to Loneliness--and 5. Isolation. Because as each and every one of our friends has walked past the velvet rope--has gained admittance into The Club, we're left out in the cold holding an out-dated, wrinkled, wet ticket. And, even though our friends pop their heads out once in a while to see how we're doing, the jealousy and despair and loneliness we have been feeling so long drives such a wedge between us, that we can't be bothered to say much. So, they give up, and go back inside with the other Clubbers.

There seems to be a never-ending swell of new friends and family members announcing their pregnancies, or babies being born. It gets a little bit easier as time goes by, but not by a whole lot. People assume now that I have Baby Boy I am happy to hear the news and join in the celebration. They treat me like an "honorary" member of the club. Which, frankly, makes me feel weird. I want to be treated like one of them, but I know I'm not. So, I feel stupid. Like the geeky tag-along friend of the popular girl, who convinces her other popular friends to be nice to once in a while. But really, they're just waiting for her to walk away so they can all laugh and make fun of her clothes/hair/glasses/whatever. That's me. Poor Frenchie, it's so cute, that she is all acting like a Mother now because she has that baby. But we all know she had to BUY her way into the club. It's not a Full Membership. It has restricted access.

So, I wish I could just be happy where I am. Alone on the Island. Well, not really alone, because I have my gorgeous son. But alone in the Infertility thing. I am realizing that since I have no control over what cards I have been dealt, the real pain comes from wanting different cards. If I could just be happy with what I have, and where I am, then, why should I care if other people's cards look different? The anguish comes from imagining the life I wish I had, instead of appreciating the life I do have. Maybe I am just not evolved enough. The little Buddah inside my head tells me to live in the Now. But right now, I am crying, trying to figure out what could possibly, right now, take away a little bit of the pain.