I'm not frequently excited to see Aunt Flo's arrival, but this morning I have to admit it was a not so terrifying experience. Althought it didn't keep my DH and I from trying, we both knew this month was shot. I'm looking at Aunt Flo's arrival as a positive things. It's a new beginning, a new cycle, a new chance. I never decided what I wanted to do about switching doctors, so I called St. Vincents this morning and set up my CD3 u/s. I go in Saturday at 9:15. I was kind of glad it fell that way, because that's one less day I have to be late to work. I'm kind of anxious about what our plan for this month will be. Last month we were supposed to start with Follistim and try our shot at our first IUI, but my estrogen had different plans. I'm really hoping that we can go ahead with these plans this month. I want to have faith that this will be our month, but there is always that negative part of my brain telling me not to get my hopes up. Everyone just pray for me. If you don't pray...at least think happy thoughts for me.
I feel like I've made a lot of progress in dealing with all the pregnancy around me. Don't get me wrong, I would have rather dug a whole and just tucked myself in tight until the next 9 months or so passed by, but the issue would have still been there when I emerged. I have to remind myself, that in the same way infertility is in my every thought, and it seeps its way into every conversation, a person who is pregnant is going through a similar situation. They just have happier thoughts than mine. Ha!
I'm really having to do some soul searching, and I'm trying to figure out what God's plan is. I feel like he's been speaking to me, and I need to get myself in order! Nick and I are about to start shopping for a home church, and I'm very excited. I had to make a sacrifice in order to do this though. I had to resign from my nursery job at FUMC. I just went and spoke with my boss today. It was bitter sweet. I love those babies, but I really feel like I'm doing what God wants me to do, and who can deny that, right?
Until next time!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Funk
I'm in a funk tonight. My husband is hunting out of town again tonight, and I just got home from working at our school's pageant. I don't love the idea of pageants anyways, much less pageants for middle school girls. That's such a hard time for girls. The pageant itself isn't what got me down though. The teacher that organizes the pageant is pregnant. I just found out before Christmas break, and she wasn't telling anyone yet, but she was really showing tonight. I hated it, but every time I saw her, my eyes fell to her stomach and I was just overwhelmed with sadness and jealousy.
So then, I get home...to an empty house....Augh! It doesn't help that things are also awkward with my friend who lives close by, who I would usually call when I had nothing to do. She too has just found out good news. She doesn't really know how to talk to me and vice versa. So I'm just lonely, sad, and jealous. And those aren't endearing qualities.
I think I just need to go to bed and pray I wake up in a better mood.
So then, I get home...to an empty house....Augh! It doesn't help that things are also awkward with my friend who lives close by, who I would usually call when I had nothing to do. She too has just found out good news. She doesn't really know how to talk to me and vice versa. So I'm just lonely, sad, and jealous. And those aren't endearing qualities.
I think I just need to go to bed and pray I wake up in a better mood.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Biggest Loser
I have faithfully watched every season of The Biggest Loser, except the one where the winner has now gained all his weight back. For Christmas, my dear sweet husband bought me a Wii and a Wii Fit. I didn't have to drop many hints at all either. Okay, I confess..that's a lie. I only told him every other day since my friend's birthday at the beginning of November when she got one. But, that's beside the point. I got the Wii didn't I? My parents, per my request bought several accessories and games for me for Christmas as well. I had asked for a Yoga game, thinking that Yoga would ease my infertility stresses, but Mom couldn't find the one I was talking about so she got me The Biggest Loser fit game. I have to admit I was a bit afraid of this game, since I have in the past owned 2 Biggest Loser workout dvds and done them a total of 2 times before deciding that Bob and Jillian just weren't for me.
So, the first time I played the game was the first day I opened my Wii and Wii Fit, and I was way too excited to read the instructions. I weighed in and noticed that it was weighing me roughly 10 lbs. less than I really weigh. I kinda liked it, so I didn't worry that there was something wrong with my board. Two days later, I read that if I am using the wii fit board on carpet I should put the included extra feet on the bottom of it. Ah ha! Needless to say, it weighs me pretty accurately now. I've only played the game 3 times to date. The second time I didn't have to weigh in yet, because it was not elimination time. Today, the third time I played, I had to weigh in. Uh oh. I have lost 5 lbs since I played last, but I knew that it would still put me at a gain. Sadly, as expected, I fell below the yellow line. However, the girl that fell below with me is the one that go eliminated. Bob yelled at me. He told me I barely escaped that elimination and that I'd better step it up. New goal: don't let Bob down. Ha!
On a completely different note, my dear friend Lance should start a blog. Leah, I think he's "thinking about it." You should hound him with me until he does. I think I'm going to end up loving this thing.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Resolution Resolve
I know I only have a total of 2 readers, but I'm okay with that. I'm going to try to work on blogging more to help my sanity throughout my fertility treatments. I've been having a really hard time since before Christmas, and bad news has seemed to be a constant in my life since then. My hormones didn't cooperate this month. I took only 50mg of Clomid after being on 150mg. They were going to start me on follistim with HCG and IUI. New Years Eve they informed me that my estrogen was less than 20, and they require a minimum of 200 to get the go ahead on further treatment. So, no treatments for January. I've been instructed to call when AF starts. Ugh. I've found out some other information that has been a bit devastating to me although I'm not at liberty to share it on my blog right now. Maybe later, but I'm learning to deal.
A while back, when I was having a particularly bad day, I remembered seeing a handout for a support group in the waiting room of the infertility department at St. Vincents. I looked up Resolve online, and found that there was a peer led support group. I emailed the contact that day and told her I was interested in coming. They meet the first Monday of every month. I had to wait a few weeks, but the meeting couldn't have come at a better time. I had gotten in to one of the deepest funks I had ever been in, school was starting back, and already there was some issues at work. Even though I would have rather gone home and crawled back in bed after the first day back to work, I somehow mustered up the energy and courage to just go. The meeting was going to be held in Homewood at a restaurant. My car wouldn't start when I got in to go, but luckily my sister had left her car at my house while she was at a conference for work. So, I'm a pretty big baby when it comes to driving in B'ham anyways, and I was in an unfamiliar car, but at this point I wasn't going let anything stop me......until-I messed up on 280 and got off the wrong exit. After about 20 min. driving around (or sitting still in traffic) on the phone with Hayden. I finally got there. I almost gave up and just went home, but my dear friend wouldn't allow me. She knows me, and gets the whole panic thing about me, but doesn't give in to it. Props to Hayden!
Ok, so now on to the meeting. There ended up being about 9 of us. I was quite nervous at first, and didn't really know if and when I should speak up, but after hearing all of these ladies saying things that I've thought a thousand times in the last few months, I began to really feel like there was no place in the world that I would have rather been in that moment than with those women, at that table, in the semi-private "cubical" of Dodiyo's. So many people in my life have really tried to be supportive, and managed to say all the wrong things. Not necessarily because they were the wrong things, but because they were coming from someone who had absolutely no idea what I was feeling and going through. With each woman that spoke, I honestly felt like my sanity was coming back, I felt calm, I felt comfortable. There was also a lot of really good information. I'm praying about changing doctors. I feel like the change will most likely happen, but I'm not sure about the timing of it all. I have reservations about the treatment I'm getting now, I've never met the doctor herself (just nurses) and the last 2 months treatment has been cancelled. I also have Reservations with starting with ART--it seems like IVF is pretty standard there, and that my be what it takes to get me pregnant, but in this moment in time, I think I need more time to try to figure out my finances before I take that step. I'll continue to pray until is seems clear to me.
I didn't intend for this entry to be so long, and I've only covered half of my blog title. Very quickly I'll tell you my Resolutions.
1. I want to be able to deal with my infertility better. I want to try to keep my emotions in check, and start doing things for myself.
2. I want to take care of my body more. I'm typically one of those people who eats away their sorrows--which couldn't be worse for fertility. Thanks to my Wii-and a very new and strange "loss of appetite" I've been experiencing, I think I'm off to a good start.
3. Trust God more. I've had a lot of anger issues with him lately. Everyone has been telling me that it's all in God's timing, and it would just make me all the more angry. I need to embrace the fact that God has it under control. My faith needs to pump some iron and get strong too.
4. Refuse to let people run all over me. I'm so timid sometimes, and I hate conflict so much, that I let people get the best of me so I just don't have to deal with drama. No more. (Note to self: This does NOT mean getting in a screaming match at work) --if you have questions just let me know. Ha!
Well, I guess I'm gonna wrap this up by saying that Yesterday and Today were what I would refer to as "good" days. I let one tear escape me yesterday, and today not a one! Progress!
A while back, when I was having a particularly bad day, I remembered seeing a handout for a support group in the waiting room of the infertility department at St. Vincents. I looked up Resolve online, and found that there was a peer led support group. I emailed the contact that day and told her I was interested in coming. They meet the first Monday of every month. I had to wait a few weeks, but the meeting couldn't have come at a better time. I had gotten in to one of the deepest funks I had ever been in, school was starting back, and already there was some issues at work. Even though I would have rather gone home and crawled back in bed after the first day back to work, I somehow mustered up the energy and courage to just go. The meeting was going to be held in Homewood at a restaurant. My car wouldn't start when I got in to go, but luckily my sister had left her car at my house while she was at a conference for work. So, I'm a pretty big baby when it comes to driving in B'ham anyways, and I was in an unfamiliar car, but at this point I wasn't going let anything stop me......until-I messed up on 280 and got off the wrong exit. After about 20 min. driving around (or sitting still in traffic) on the phone with Hayden. I finally got there. I almost gave up and just went home, but my dear friend wouldn't allow me. She knows me, and gets the whole panic thing about me, but doesn't give in to it. Props to Hayden!
Ok, so now on to the meeting. There ended up being about 9 of us. I was quite nervous at first, and didn't really know if and when I should speak up, but after hearing all of these ladies saying things that I've thought a thousand times in the last few months, I began to really feel like there was no place in the world that I would have rather been in that moment than with those women, at that table, in the semi-private "cubical" of Dodiyo's. So many people in my life have really tried to be supportive, and managed to say all the wrong things. Not necessarily because they were the wrong things, but because they were coming from someone who had absolutely no idea what I was feeling and going through. With each woman that spoke, I honestly felt like my sanity was coming back, I felt calm, I felt comfortable. There was also a lot of really good information. I'm praying about changing doctors. I feel like the change will most likely happen, but I'm not sure about the timing of it all. I have reservations about the treatment I'm getting now, I've never met the doctor herself (just nurses) and the last 2 months treatment has been cancelled. I also have Reservations with starting with ART--it seems like IVF is pretty standard there, and that my be what it takes to get me pregnant, but in this moment in time, I think I need more time to try to figure out my finances before I take that step. I'll continue to pray until is seems clear to me.
I didn't intend for this entry to be so long, and I've only covered half of my blog title. Very quickly I'll tell you my Resolutions.
1. I want to be able to deal with my infertility better. I want to try to keep my emotions in check, and start doing things for myself.
2. I want to take care of my body more. I'm typically one of those people who eats away their sorrows--which couldn't be worse for fertility. Thanks to my Wii-and a very new and strange "loss of appetite" I've been experiencing, I think I'm off to a good start.
3. Trust God more. I've had a lot of anger issues with him lately. Everyone has been telling me that it's all in God's timing, and it would just make me all the more angry. I need to embrace the fact that God has it under control. My faith needs to pump some iron and get strong too.
4. Refuse to let people run all over me. I'm so timid sometimes, and I hate conflict so much, that I let people get the best of me so I just don't have to deal with drama. No more. (Note to self: This does NOT mean getting in a screaming match at work) --if you have questions just let me know. Ha!
Well, I guess I'm gonna wrap this up by saying that Yesterday and Today were what I would refer to as "good" days. I let one tear escape me yesterday, and today not a one! Progress!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
I would die for that
I Would die for That Lyrics
Kelley Coffey
Jenny was my best friend.
Went away one summer.
Came back with a secret
She just couldn't keep.
A child inside her,
Was just too much for her
So she cried herself to sleep.
And she made a decision
Some find hard to accept.
To young to know that one day
She might live to regret.
But I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that she had.
I would die for that.
I've been given so much,
A husband that I love.
So why do I feel incomplete?
With every test and checkup
We're told not to give up.
He wonders if it's him.
And I wonder if it's me.
All I want is a family,
Like everyone else I see.
And I won't understand it
If it's not meant to be.
Cause I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that they have.
I would die for that.
And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
For that kind of love,
What I'd give up!
I would die for that.
Sometimes it's hard to conceive,
With all that I've got,
And all I've achieved,
What I want most
Before my time is gone,
Is to hear the words
"I love you, Mom."
I would die for that.
Just to have once chance
To hold in my hands
What so many have
I would die for that.
And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
How I would love
What some give up.
I would die ...
I would die for that.
Kelley Coffey
Jenny was my best friend.
Went away one summer.
Came back with a secret
She just couldn't keep.
A child inside her,
Was just too much for her
So she cried herself to sleep.
And she made a decision
Some find hard to accept.
To young to know that one day
She might live to regret.
But I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that she had.
I would die for that.
I've been given so much,
A husband that I love.
So why do I feel incomplete?
With every test and checkup
We're told not to give up.
He wonders if it's him.
And I wonder if it's me.
All I want is a family,
Like everyone else I see.
And I won't understand it
If it's not meant to be.
Cause I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that they have.
I would die for that.
And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
For that kind of love,
What I'd give up!
I would die for that.
Sometimes it's hard to conceive,
With all that I've got,
And all I've achieved,
What I want most
Before my time is gone,
Is to hear the words
"I love you, Mom."
I would die for that.
Just to have once chance
To hold in my hands
What so many have
I would die for that.
And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
How I would love
What some give up.
I would die ...
I would die for that.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
A letter I found
So, as I was searching some infertility support websites, I ran across this letter and I really felt like I needed to share it. I'm not sure who the original author was, because the girl that posted it had found it somewhere. Although, not everything in this letter directly relates to exactly what I'm going through, much of it hits the nail right on the head.
Shared Journey – A Letter to Family and Friends
Dear Family and Friends,
I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.
You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe myself this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.
My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.
My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?
My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.
My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible my pain is. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.
My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.
My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms.
I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me? I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.
My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless. My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.
Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.
You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.
I need you to be a listener. Infertile couples have a lot on their minds and need someone to talk to. Sometimes a good ear helps people get things off their chests. A good listener can help people express their anxiety, anger, and guilt; or help people work out solutions to problems. Without offering any suggestions, your attentiveness and interest may provide the comfort and reassurance I need most. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know if you are available for me. Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.
Let me know when you don’t know what to say. I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.
I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.
I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.
I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.
I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.
1. Be patient. This couple may experience mood swings with every treatment or monthly cycle. One week they may be high because a new treatment promises hope; the next week they may be in mourning for the child they lost (didn't make) this month. They may be riding an exhausting emotional roller coaster which makes their actions and moods unpredictable. Try to understand and flow with their changes. And remember that when they want to be alone, they are not rejecting you. Don't get your feelings hurt by the preoccupation they have with their problems; keep in touch.
I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal. Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.
Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away, because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding.
************************************************************************
Hints from Another Source
Don’t push adoption. Adoption is a wonderful way for infertile people to become parents. (As an adoptive parent, I can fully vouch for this!!) However, the couple needs to work through many issues before they will be ready to make an adoption decision. Before they can make the decision to love a "stranger's baby," they must first grieve the loss of that baby with Daddy's eyes and Mommy's nose. Adoption social workers recognize the importance of the grieving process. When my husband and I went for our initial adoption interview, we expected the first question to be, "Why do you want to adopt a baby?" Instead, the question was, "Have you grieved the loss of your biological child yet?" Our social worker emphasized how important it is to shut one door before you open another.
You do, indeed, need to grieve this loss before you are ready to start the adoption process. The adoption process is very long and expensive, and it is not an easy road. So the couple needs to be very sure that they can let go of the hope of a biological child, and that they can love an adopted baby. This takes time, and some couples are never able to reach this point. If your friend cannot love a baby that isn't her "own," then adoption isn't the right decision for her, and it is certainly not what is best for the baby.
Mentioning adoption in passing can be a comfort to some couples. (The only words that ever offered me comfort were from my sister, who said, "Whether through pregnancy or adoption, you will be a mother one day.") However, "pushing" the issue can frustrate your friend. So, mention the idea in passing if it seems appropriate, and then drop it. When your friend is ready to talk about adoption, she will raise the issue herself.
So, what can you say to your infertile friends?
Unless you say "I am giving you this baby," there is nothing you can say that will erase their pain. So, take that pressure off of yourself. It isn't your job to erase their pain, but there is a lot you can do to lesson the load. Here are a few ideas.
Let Them Know That You Care
The best thing you can do is let your infertile friends know that you care. Send them cards. Let them cry on your shoulder. If they are religious, let them know you are praying for them. Offer the same support you would offer a friend who has lost a loved one. Just knowing they can count on you to be there for them lightens the load and lets them know that they aren't going through this alone.
Remember Them on Mother's Day
With all of the activity on Mother's Day, people tend to forget about women who cannot become mothers. Mother's Day is an incredibly painful time for infertile women. You cannot get away from it -- there are ads on TV, posters at the stores, church sermons devoted to celebrating motherhood, and all of the plans for celebrating with your own mother and mother-in-law. Mother's Day is an important celebration and one that I relish now that I am a mother. However, it was very painful while I was waiting for my baby. Remember your infertile friends on Mother's Day, and send them a card to let them know you are thinking of them. They will appreciate knowing that you haven't "forgotten" them.
Shared Journey – A Letter to Family and Friends
Dear Family and Friends,
I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.
You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe myself this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.
My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.
My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?
My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.
My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible my pain is. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.
My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.
My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms.
I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me? I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.
My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless. My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.
Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.
You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.
I need you to be a listener. Infertile couples have a lot on their minds and need someone to talk to. Sometimes a good ear helps people get things off their chests. A good listener can help people express their anxiety, anger, and guilt; or help people work out solutions to problems. Without offering any suggestions, your attentiveness and interest may provide the comfort and reassurance I need most. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know if you are available for me. Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.
Let me know when you don’t know what to say. I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.
I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.
I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.
I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.
I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.
1. Be patient. This couple may experience mood swings with every treatment or monthly cycle. One week they may be high because a new treatment promises hope; the next week they may be in mourning for the child they lost (didn't make) this month. They may be riding an exhausting emotional roller coaster which makes their actions and moods unpredictable. Try to understand and flow with their changes. And remember that when they want to be alone, they are not rejecting you. Don't get your feelings hurt by the preoccupation they have with their problems; keep in touch.
I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal. Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.
Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away, because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding.
************************************************************************
Hints from Another Source
Don’t push adoption. Adoption is a wonderful way for infertile people to become parents. (As an adoptive parent, I can fully vouch for this!!) However, the couple needs to work through many issues before they will be ready to make an adoption decision. Before they can make the decision to love a "stranger's baby," they must first grieve the loss of that baby with Daddy's eyes and Mommy's nose. Adoption social workers recognize the importance of the grieving process. When my husband and I went for our initial adoption interview, we expected the first question to be, "Why do you want to adopt a baby?" Instead, the question was, "Have you grieved the loss of your biological child yet?" Our social worker emphasized how important it is to shut one door before you open another.
You do, indeed, need to grieve this loss before you are ready to start the adoption process. The adoption process is very long and expensive, and it is not an easy road. So the couple needs to be very sure that they can let go of the hope of a biological child, and that they can love an adopted baby. This takes time, and some couples are never able to reach this point. If your friend cannot love a baby that isn't her "own," then adoption isn't the right decision for her, and it is certainly not what is best for the baby.
Mentioning adoption in passing can be a comfort to some couples. (The only words that ever offered me comfort were from my sister, who said, "Whether through pregnancy or adoption, you will be a mother one day.") However, "pushing" the issue can frustrate your friend. So, mention the idea in passing if it seems appropriate, and then drop it. When your friend is ready to talk about adoption, she will raise the issue herself.
So, what can you say to your infertile friends?
Unless you say "I am giving you this baby," there is nothing you can say that will erase their pain. So, take that pressure off of yourself. It isn't your job to erase their pain, but there is a lot you can do to lesson the load. Here are a few ideas.
Let Them Know That You Care
The best thing you can do is let your infertile friends know that you care. Send them cards. Let them cry on your shoulder. If they are religious, let them know you are praying for them. Offer the same support you would offer a friend who has lost a loved one. Just knowing they can count on you to be there for them lightens the load and lets them know that they aren't going through this alone.
Remember Them on Mother's Day
With all of the activity on Mother's Day, people tend to forget about women who cannot become mothers. Mother's Day is an incredibly painful time for infertile women. You cannot get away from it -- there are ads on TV, posters at the stores, church sermons devoted to celebrating motherhood, and all of the plans for celebrating with your own mother and mother-in-law. Mother's Day is an important celebration and one that I relish now that I am a mother. However, it was very painful while I was waiting for my baby. Remember your infertile friends on Mother's Day, and send them a card to let them know you are thinking of them. They will appreciate knowing that you haven't "forgotten" them.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Pumpkin Fun
Today was a fun day at work. One of our instructional assistants always brings my class a mess of pumpkins right before Halloween. This year I'd say we got a bit more creative with our pumpkins. I posted a picture of my favorite, the luau pumpkin. Each year the library hosts a pumpkin decorating/carving contest. The winners win gift cards to books a million. I'd say we had a fair chance of placing again this year. I'm not sure who gets into it more, me or the kids.
This has been a weird week for me. I started feeling bad last week with sinus yuck. This weekend it got worse so I took Monday off. So, I've been off kilter all week. Then my body decides to tell me the natural way that I'm definately not pg, so that means back to the drawing board with the infertility doc. They scheduled me to come in tomorrow morning. Typically when I have to go to St. Vincents for these appointments, I rush back to Cullman and go into work late, but I just decided to take the day. I think I need a stress relieving shoping trip after the dr.
I really hope the rain holds out on Saturday. My family is having a hayride/bonfire/chili dinner. I'm really looking forward to it, so I hope the weather doesn't interrupt my happy time. Everyone be safe on Halloween, don't overload on candy--on second thought, do overload on candy, just be sure to brush your teeth and drink plenty of water. Night!
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