Contraction / Expansion

Today I came across this post, which (like so much of Dr. Cacciatore's writing) was thought-provoking and, well, validating. She sees grief not as a state to be escaped or fixed, but as a natural—even "evolutionary"—process. I'm not at that stage of acceptance. Still, her words give me hope:

"Contraction only will leave us unmovable – paralyzed with pain for the duration of our lives, fearful of love and life and terrified of more pain. This is a kind of Death for us. Expansion only is a futile endeavor as well, mostly because it is a ruse. It is often a state of self-delusion and inauthenticity that will leave us unsatisfied with our identity, soul-less, and worn out from persistent pretense. The natural course of grief, as in nature, is contraction-expansion-contraction-expansion-contraction-expansion..."

Almost like birth.

"This is the wisdom of the Universe, the wisdom of your body, the wisdom of your heart.

Trust it, and it will save you."

When You Least Expect It

Other things happened lately, too. For one, I haven't written about my taxes yet.

In 2013, I was very organized until springtime and the miscarriage. Before that, each receipt got filed promptly in its own labelled folder. After that, any mail—any thing, really—that didn't need immediate attention got thrown into boxes and shoved in the corner. This spring I've felt like an archaeologist, uncovering all the receipts and reliving 12 months of huge ups and downs.

There were receipts for the two pregnancy ultrasounds where I saw and heard a strengthening heartbeat, followed by the devastating one. Then paperwork from all the tests the clinic asked me to repeat because another year had passed.

Mixed in with those memories was the detritus that I couldn't be bothered to care about, like junk mail from eight months ago. There were abandoned self-improvement projects and notes about events that I didn't attend, because time, energy, and/or money always seemed to be too short. In the bottom of the last box, I uncovered a spring sweater that I'd long ago given up for lost.

Once they were excavated, I could transfer all these memories to black-and-white spreadsheets. Then it was time to meet with the tax preparer. When I brought up medical expenses, she was dubious at first, warning that now (in the US) people can deduct only the amount that's more than 10% of adjusted gross income—a pretty high bar for most families to reach. Let's just say that I am waaaaaaay over that bar. It's mind-blowing. Panic-inducing. It can't continue, obviously.

We actually had two meetings, because this has been the most complicated, stressful tax year ever. On the plus side, yeah, huge refund. Of course, now the chances for an audit are also high. I'm making sure to get everything super organized. (Tax tips: All my doctors have been happy to provide itemized receipts for all 2013 expenses, which have been very helpful. Also, did you know that you can deduct for mileage driven to and from medical appointments?  It added up to 2,355 miles for me last year!)

Before getting into those details, I had to explain some things about my situation. I braced for possible judgment, because the tax preparer was gray-haired and (I'm embarrassed to say this) "looked conservative." Of course, everyone in a tax office looks conservative; it's the uniform.

No judgment, though. Instead, she leaned forward and asked softly, "Have you tried [name of my previous clinic]?" It turns out that her son and daughter-in-law went through 13 years of TTC, including many years with undiagnosed PCOS, and my previous clinic was the one that finally helped them to have "their miracle twins."

We commiserated about the healthcare system and about infertility. She lived through it, too, in a way. "The night before my daughter" (as she called her DIL) "had her amnio during the pregnancy, I stayed up all night worrying. I just couldn't help thinking how awful—and how possible—it would be for them to make it all the way to that point and then have something else go wrong." How possible, indeed. She knew exactly how it felt.

She was wonderful—going out of her way to be helpful and, more than that, kind at a very stressful time. When we said good-bye, after three hours of crunching numbers and trading stories, we held hands for a long moment as she wished me well. "I’ll pray for you," she promised. I thanked her through tears.

ICLW

If you're here as part of ICLW, welcome! (If not, you're still welcome! And you might want to check out the ICLW list, since it includes a lot of great blogs.)

It's been a year since I participated. Last time, I was new here and still reeling from a miscarriage late in the first trimester, after TTC for a while. I'm still trying. This past year, I've tried IVF both with and without stimulation. In fact, I'm in the middle of a no-stim cycle now. The Timeline page has more details, and the Index page has a list of posts that may be a good starting point.

Whenever I start listing the TTC facts, a rebellious feeling kicks in. But wait, I want to say. There's more to me than lab results and treatment lingo!  Except ... there hasn't been much more lately.This is all so draining, important, and time-sensitive that it's easy to forget how I also love reading, photography, spending time outdoors ... and some other stuff I can't seem to remember right now.

These past few years, mindfulness practice has helped me to maintain some balance. So has gentle exercise. So has connecting with other people, even (especially) when I just want to curl up into a ball. Really, anything that gets me out of the worry-loop in my head and out into the world tends to help.

Lately I've realized what a habit it's become to rein in my dreams and shut down my feelings. You know—it's the idea that if we don't acknowledge our desires, we won't be disappointed when they're not fulfilled; if we don't let ourselves feel joy when it's here, we won't miss it when it ends. But avoidance doesn't work. It just sucks the energy and motivation out of life. Instead, I'm exploring ways to stay open to hope without clinging to one specific outcome.

Anyway, feel free to look around, make yourself at home, and comment on anything old or new. And best of luck on your own journey!

(source)

Happy Birthday, Blog

It was a year ago yesterday that I took a deep breath and—with very few expectations—hit "Publish" on my first post here, which was written in the middle of the night, in the middle of a sleepless week. Looking back, I'm surprised that it was coherent. It still does a good job of explaining why I came here.

And what is it about blogging that's made me stick around?

• Fluidity:  Mainly, as mentioned in that first post, facing the reality of difficult emotions helps me to keep them fluid. It keeps anger and sadness from congealing into bitterness and despair.
• Release:  This is hard to explain to those who haven't felt it, but it feels like there are just things I have to say. In daily life, I'm not a big talker. I especially try to avoid overloading friends with TMI about TTC. No-one wants to be a bummer. That's not to say that I let it all hang out here … just that no-one has to come here, you know? So I don't feel guilty about focusing on the same basic topics, which take up a huge and important space in my life right now.
• Clarity:  Writing makes me more mindful of emotions, thoughts, beliefs, and patterns that are normally just below the surface of awareness. The more precisely I can describe them here, the better I can see and respond to them "in the wild."
• Guidance:  Without really setting out to make it happen, I now have a record of what's helped and what hasn't during this very hard year, which can serve as a guide the next time I'm feeling lost.
• Connection:  When I see how many people struggle with similar feelings (if not the exact same circumstances), it helps my heart expand rather than shrivel up in self-pity. I don't have to take it personally. It's not "my pain" or "my joy," just pain and joy, things I share with absolutely everyone.
• Support:  Other people's posts have given me such good food for thought. They've led to new perspectives, posts of my own, practical tips, books and articles to read, questions to ask my doctors… Thank you all!
• Warmth:  Reading a person's blog is a little like visiting a room in her home. Personality comes through not just in words, but also in the layout of the place, the pictures on the wall, how often she's there, who else drops by… I get to know someone better in her own space than when she's one username of hundreds or thousands on a forum.
• Acceptance:  I tend to publish posts when I feel about 95% done and ready to move on. Completing that last 5% would take longer than all the rest and turn something fun into a self-absorbed chore. I can always go back later and make a sentence more precise (hey, it's not journalism) or write some kind of follow-up. My writing, like everything in my life, will always be imperfect and unfinished, and that’s OK. 

Nominees

OK, here's where I cheat a bit. Because it's hard to keep track of who has received which award in the past (and I've already dragged this out much too long), I'd like to keep things simple and nominate the following bloggers for whichever one of these awards they haven't yet received / would prefer: Liebster, Stork, or Sunshine. Any of them would apply to anyone below. Just click the links to see the rules and icons.

I hope I haven't just broken some awful taboo. But I think the main rule is to have fun, not guilt, right? We all have some intense things going on, so I'll understand if you don't have time right now, or if you pick just a few favorite questions to answer. If you do participate in any way, please post a comment here that links to your answers and nominees, so that others can go check them out. It's been a fun way to get to know each other outside of the usual focus.

Here are my nominees:

• Lauren at On Fecund Thought
• Michaela at A Single Journey
• Mrs. E at TTCBabyE3
• Stasy at Dancing My Way Through Life, Loss, and Books
• Janet at Just A Little Off Kilter
• Lentil at Lamenting the Lentil
• The Unexpected Trip
• Schrodinger's Catbox
• Ask An Infertile
• Hope is something you pee on

Here are my questions for you:

1. What was your best moment of 2013?
2. Are you making any New Year's resolutions? What?
3. What's something about yourself that you hope will never change?
4. What's one of your favorite things to do in wintertime?
5. Aisle or window seat?
6. What quote / piece of writing is especially close to your heart?
7. How do you get your news?
8. What qualities draw you to someone new (friend or significant other)?
9. What do you look for in a place to live?
10. Do you have any nicknames? (Come on, we all have at least one!)

Sunshine Award

A big thank you goes out to Lauren at On Fecund Thought, who nominated me for a Sunshine Award!

A Sunshine Award is given to bloggers whose posts brighten your day. Here's how it works:

1. Include the Sunshine Award icon in your post.
2. Link to the person who nominated you.
3. Answer 10 questions about yourself.
4. Nominate 10 bloggers to receive the award.
5. Link your nominees and let them know they've been nominated.

Here are my answers to Lauren's questions:

1. What is your super power? Not a fake one, but something you are good at and can consistently rely on?
   Sifting through a bunch of details to find the bottom line. I guess you'd call that analysis? I can distill two pages of scribbled notes from a doctor's appointment down to a few pro/con tables and bullet points … for whatever good it does. There are literally boxes full of those notes in my closet right now.
2. What gift (apart from effortlessly making a human) do you wish you had?
   More energy. I know people who come home from a full day of physical work and immediately start cleaning something, before even pausing to sit down. I just stare at them and wonder, What species ARE you? 
3. Have you read a book more than three times?
   Yes, absolutely. I tend to skim books the first time, then go back and read the good ones more thoroughly—sometimes over and over, noticing new things each time.
4. What is your mantra?
   Make me a channel of your peace (from the St. Francis prayer). It's a tall order. I just focus on that first image: self-discipline is the structure of the channel, and mindfulness clears a space in the center. The peace isn't something I create; it flows through me in rare moments when I can get myself out of the way.
5. What's the best piece of advice you ever received?
   It was a question: Do you want to live a life based on fear or a life based on love? Whenever I'm in doubt about what to do, I try to choose the latter.
6. What made you decide to start blogging?
   This post explains. Basically, it seemed like a way to keep my heart open during difficult times, while connecting with others who are going through similar things, without wearing out my welcome with those who are NOT going through similar things.
7. What's in your handbag (UK) / purse (US) / "bag you carry around all day" (elsewhere)?
   Not much: cash, cards, keys, phone, mints, and a pen. I'm sort of a minimalist.
8. What's in your fridge?
   Not much: bean soup from the crockpot, vegetables for juicing, some half-used bottles of salad dressing, and a few leftover IVF meds way in the back.
9. Do you remember how you discovered my blog? Why do you read it?
   You commented on one of my posts, and it sounded like our situations had a lot in common. More than that, your words hit me in an almost physical way. I sit back and go, "Whoa. Yes, that's it exactly. I just never quite realized it before." Few people can face such difficult emotions head-on—let alone explain them so well, with both honesty and dignity, while right in the middle of it all. I learn from you. I'm encouraged and less alone. Last but not least, I want to be there to cheer when well-deserved good news comes your way!
10. What makes you feel fabulous?
    Sunrise, a mug of coffee in my lap, an empty road leading somewhere I've never been before.

Next up are my nominees and questions...

Stork Award

A big thank you goes out to Melissa at Ask an Infertile, who nominated me for a Stork Award!

Here's how it works:

1. Include the Stork Award icon in your post.
2. Link the person(s) who nominated you.
3. Answer the 10 questions about yourself.
4. Nominate as many bloggers as you want to receive the award.
5. Ask your nominees 10 new questions.
6. Link your nominees and let them know they've been nominated.
7. Post the Stork Award icon on your blog side bar if you are so inclined.

Here are my answers to Melissa's questions:

1. What do you consider to be your best personality trait?
   I'll go with what I said earlier: being thoughtful can be my best and/or worst trait. It's a good thing when it makes me see beyond the surface and live intentionally. It's a bad thing when it makes me morbid.
2. When you are stressed, what is something you do to relax or cope?
   Sleeping is #1. It's an escape, and it seems to "reboot" me in a way that nothing else can. Exercise and certain kinds of meditation can be healthier and more energizing, if I can manage to get past the inertia and start. Sometimes it's best to "change the channel" totally and just watch a funny movie or ask someone else what's new in his/her life. Being outside is always healing, too; it has a way of putting my life into a larger perspective.
3. Describe your dream home.
   The lot would be big and private, with trees and garden space. A porch, some window seats, and skylights would help bring the outside in and make the house feel bigger. The house can actually be smallish, ~1,000 square feet, since it will be easier to heat, cool, clean, and maintain that way. I love older houses with solid construction. Add hardwood floors, a fireplace, and a bathtub deep enough to cover my knees, and I'd be in heaven.
4. What is the best piece of advice you can offer?
   Don't believe everything you think!
5. What are you looking forward to right now?
   Medical stuff has put most of my plans on hold indefinitely, but I did go ahead and sign up for a retreat in late January. By the time I decided to go for it, there was a waiting list. We'll see if I'm actually able to go.
6. When  you were young, what did you want to be when you grew up?  Did you stick with that?
   Nope. I went through lots of phases, wanting to be a pilot, a doctor, a reporter... What I do now is less glamorous, but I enjoy it.
7. What is your favorite thing to eat on Thanksgiving?
   It would have to be the stuffing. But really, it's the combination of everything (including that tiny dab of cranberry sauce, which I never eat at any other time) that makes Thanksgiving dinner great.
8. What is something you've always loved that most people think is lame or silly?
   The things that come to mind are things that many people like as kids but outgrow as adults, like chasing fireflies in the summertime. I have to do that every year.
9. What website do you have to visit every day?
   It's varied over the years, but lately it's been Pinterest. I'm very visual, and I love organizing things, so Pinterest is like crack. It can suck up hours and days with no real purpose. Hey, maybe I've found a better answer to Question #8!
10. Do you believe in magic?
    No, but I believe there are many mysteries I will never understand, and that's OK.

Next up are my nominees and questions...

Liebster Award

A big thank you goes out to Not When, But IF, who nominated me for a Liebster Award!

Here's how it works:

• Post 11 random facts about yourself.
• Answer the 11 questions the awarding blogger has posted for you.
• Nominate 11 bloggers (with less than 200 followers) for the award and link them in your post.
• Let the bloggers you have nominated know they are nominated.
• No tag backs.

Here are 11 random facts about me:

1. Though I've been a total homebody lately, in my teens and early 20s I did quite a lot of traveling. I lived in six US states in seven years.
2. I've been outside in temperatures from -50 F to +125 F. I much prefer the heat!
3. Same thing with food: the spicier, the better.
4. I reuse things until they fall apart: sandwich bags, Christmas bows, my last car, the boxes my meds came in...
5. I am not just my parents' only child, but also the only grandchild on both sides of my family.
6. Amazingly, no-one has pressured me to "give them" a grandchild. My little family is wonderful, loving, and kind.
7. Amazingly, I wasn't too spoiled while growing up, although I did take myself way too seriously.
8. I probably still do.
9. Strangely, though, I can laugh much more easily now than when I started TTC.  It's easier to let the small stuff go.
10. Clumsiness runs in my family. I could barely ride a bike as a kid, then recently relearned as an adult. (Hilarity and bruises ensued.)
11. Still, I like to do physical work. It has a way of waking up my body and calming down my mind.

Here are my answers to Not When, But IF's questions:

1. What was the destination of your favorite vacation?  Why?
   On my 20th birthday, I left for a backpacking trip with friends in the western US. We started in a national park, then walked beyond the park boundary, beyond the trails, and out into the canyons where we didn't see another person all week. We felt like explorers from a century ago. There was even a lunar eclipse one night, which none of us expected since we hadn't heard any news. It was magical.
2. Do you have any pets?  What?  How many?
   One cat. My ex found her as a stray. We thought she may have been abandoned because of some physical problems; if so, whoever left her sure missed out! She's one of those sweet, goofy, dog-like cats who greets everyone at the door tummy-up, who comes trotting into the bathroom to pee whenever I do, and who purrs when I just talk to her in that certain tone of voice. I wish I could be half as well-adjusted as my cat.
3. What’s your favorite physical asset (don’t be shy!)?
   Probably my hair, despite the recent hack job DIY haircut. I finally had a hairdresser even it out. I was embarrassed, but she was kind. She even said, "Whatever you did … it's actually really not bad!"
4. How is your life different now from what you thought it would be at this point when you were 20?
   I didn't think I'd still feel like I was waiting for my real life to start, you know? I also have more understanding and respect for some older relatives now. Years ago, I saw the compromises they'd made, saw that their lives seemed less than totally fulfilling, and judged them as having sold out their dreams. Now here I am with almost none of my dreams from age 20 fulfilled. But I guess I'd rather be awake in my own life than asleep having wonderful dreams.
5. What was the last movie you saw in a theater?  What did you think?
   Gravity. Meh. In Sandra Bullock's first scene, I thought, She looks like she's grieving, and of course I empathized. But there were rave reviews about what a "strong female lead" her character was … hmm. How about a few more movies with REAL strong female leads, who don’t have to float around in their underwear and be coached into their strength by a man?
6. Name your guilty pleasure TV show.
   OK, this will make me sound like someone's hermit great-grandma, but I don't watch TV. Have never owned one. I watched it plenty as a kid, and I waste enough time online now as it is. During the insomnia after my miscarriage, though, I discovered free online streaming options and watched a whole season's worth of Downton Abbey in three nights. (Now I really sound like someone's great-grandma!)
7. (Shameless curiosity spurred on by the award rules) How many people follow your blog?  How long did it take you to build up your audience?  How’d you do it?
   Well, Blogger says I have 19 followers, but I know other people follow anonymously by email, etc. It's sort of mysterious. I've been at this for ten months now. I've connected with people by reading and commenting on a lot of blogs, participating in IcomLeavWe, and being listed in blogrolls. I really like connecting with anyone who can relate to something I write, but I never figured it would be a large audience. In fact, I've actually made some choices to limit the number of looky-loos who come here by accident, like choosing NOT to be listed in Google.
8. How often do you blog?
   When I need to. That's the bottom line. It feels like certain ideas are bubbling up, expanding, taking up more and more brainspace, and there's a sense of relief that comes from getting them out. I've probably averaged about two posts a week, but it really varies. I go through cycles of hibernating, then writing a bunch of stuff all at once. The more I write (even if they're rough drafts that aren't ready to post yet), the easier it is to avoid stagnation (which is good for me, as well as for any readers).
9. Does anyone in your "real life" know about your blog?
   A few friends and acquaintances read now and then, mostly women who are going through / have gone through similar things. A few others know that I blog but haven't asked for the address, and I haven't volunteered it.
10. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
    My stepdad, to exchange medical info about my mother. *sigh*
11. If you weren't answering this question right now, what would you be doing?
    I'd be making some dinner, but it can wait a few minutes.

Next up are my nominees and questions...

Merry Christmas

Just kidding! It's not happiness that offends me, just the pressure to put on a happy face, and that's mostly self-imposed. So as I get ready to go visit my mom in the nursing home, I'm trying to let go of expectations about how Christmas should be, without going into total Grinch Mode. I'm trying, guys:

Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate. However happy or hard this year has been, I hope that today brings you moments of joy and peace.

Sympathy Cards Suck

Is it just me, or does anyone else have a problem with mass-market sympathy cards?

Because I had a problem last night. I was browsing (i.e., trying not to have a meltdown) in the "Sympathy / Cheer" section of the card aisle in the grocery store, with "Jingle Bell Rock" blasting on the speaker system. (By the way, why is that necessary? After two or three weeks, the nonstop Christmas carols can be an affront to anyone who's not able to have "the most wonderful time of the year"—in other words, plenty of people.)

I was looking for three cards: one for a relative who lost her husband suddenly a few months ago and is still hurting, one for my mom after her second major surgery in three weeks, and one for my best friend, who just got some horrible news yesterday.

I want to rant and rave on these people's behalf. I want to hug them very tight. But there's no card that conveys those feelings in the card aisle at Giant.

What I want to know is why sympathy messages have to be totally stiff:

With heartfelt condolences.

Because nothing says "heartfelt" like formal words that no-one uses in daily speech.

May you be surrounded by comfort and love at this difficult time.

What's up with all the passive voice ("be surrounded by")?

OK, clearly illness and death are serious. We want to honor the gravity of what's happened. But with language straight out of a legal contract, with the "I" and "you" and therefore the relationship removed, what's left feels so distant. I wonder how much of the formality comes from respect and how much comes from avoidance of anything awkward or sad.

On the giving side, these cards don't feel authentic. On the receiving side, I question how comforting they are, too. When someone wishes you to "be surrounded by comfort and love" when you're not, does it feel as presumptuous as hearing "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" felt to me last night?

Of course, I can and will add a personal note to each card. The most formal cards are probably intended more for people who don't know the recipient well, so I guess they'll always have their place.

It would just be nice to have a few more options with less flowery wording and more real emotion involved. Maybe we could call them sympathy empathy cards. Anyone want to start an Etsy shop with me?

Empathy vs Sympathy

This little video is just right:

"Empathy is a choice, and it's a vulnerable choice, because in order to connect with you, I have to connect with something in myself that knows that feeling. Rarely, if ever, does an empathic response begin with 'At least...' The truth is, rarely can a response make something better. What makes something better is connection."

Thank You

Recently (OK, not so recently), three readers nominated me for blogging awards. First of all, THANK YOU!

Your kindness made my day, especially coming from you—all writers whose work I love to read.

I'm sorry that I've been out of touch lately, but mostly I want to take a moment to make clear that I do appreciate your nominations and will reply soon!

The Compost Pile

It's occurred to me that, except for comments on other blogs and a few "just the facts" TTC posts here, I haven't been writing much lately.

The main reason is a family crisis. Someone dear to me has been in the hospital twice in this past month, and spending time with her almost every day has been my focus. It will be for a while to come.

Also, my life tends to be organized around cycles anyway: cycles of TTC, cycles of moving inward and then outward again. Right now seems to be a time of hibernating, percolating, and, I guess, conserving energy for what lies ahead.

In the weeks that I've been away, I've written the beginnings of many posts in my mind. Then the time comes to get them out, and nope. Ideas go into the compost pile, churn around ... then stay down there to churn around some more. They're not done yet. I'm not worried about it, since there's plenty of fodder there, and compost makes great fertilizer when the time is right.

I'm not worried about my thoughts needing more time to ripen. What I'm worried about are my emotions, which feel awfully stuck and flat lately.

You know that line in my profile about loss and acceptance? Here's the thing: I'm not really sure how to DO the "acceptance" part. This blog is meant to be part of the process, not the result. And lately it feels like the process has gotten stalled.

So this week I met privately with the teacher who leads a drop-in meditation class I've been attending for the last year and a half. I didn't want to go into any details with him, because words sometimes get in my way. I can use them to skip over the actual experience and jump right into "fixing" it, which seems to be counter-productive with grief. He agreed.

Instead, he basically led me through a Focusing session, which involves attention to sensations in the body (the "felt sense") that underlie emotions and thoughts. Staying with the felt sense can lead to unexpected insights (less mystical than I'm making it sound) or a sense of shifting or release. Which is exactly what I need.

Yes, I want to write more about Focusing. In coming weeks, I'll probably be writing less about my own analysis of things and more about whatever practices are helping me to feel less stuck ... after I, you know, actually DO them. Until then, lots of good but unfinished ideas will be getting thrown back into the compost pile.

From Rainer Maria Rilke:

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

The Sadim Touch

Someone just pointed out this Slate article about a new website called Modern Loss. The article says:

"Americans love to talk about people who overcome the odds to survive serious injury or illness, but we don't cope with death very well. Enter Modern Loss, a new website dedicated to helping us stop treating death and grief like embarrassments to be hidden away, and instead have an honest conversation about what it means to mourn. 

The site was started by two women, Rebecca Soffer and Gabrielle Birkner, who lost parents at an early age and who are clearly opposed to the toxic forced optimism [emphasis mine, because I LOVE this phrase] of American culture that can make grief all the more difficult. They promise a website that will be free of people adjudicating how sad you're allowed to feel and a complete ban on the phrase, 'everything happens for a reason.'" 

Did you hear me cheering at that last line? Please, oh please, can we get rid of that platitude?

There, now it's fixed!

So I had to check out Modern Loss, and right away I found a lot to like, especially one post: The Reverse Midas Touch.

While my recent string of losses hasn't been as drastic as what author Abby Sher describes, it has made me wonder if I'm—if not cursed—maybe attracting bad stuff into my life in some subconscious way. Short answer: NO, I don't believe in hocus-pocus. But still, honestly, there are times when I have kind of felt like a freak. There are times when I've been ashamed of my own apparent Sadim (the reverse of Midas) Touch.

Right after my miscarriage, I happened to see this video about stillbirth. The parts that resonated most were the parents who talked about feeling like a bad-luck charm, and those who said that the worst thing was when people refused to talk about their child at all. That is "toxic forced optimism" at work.

I do understand the impulse; I've been guilty of it, too. But I've come to see another way: simple, loving presence. Abby Sher offers it to a sick friend at the end of her post. Others have offered it to me.

One particular time stands out: after the baby’s heartbeat stopped and before the bleeding started, a friend put his hand on my belly and just held it there, silently, head bowed. That simple act of acknowledging that he/she was real and still mattered, even after death ... of coming closer instead of running away ... it was one of the most healing things anyone has ever done for me.

Sunshine Award

What a nice surprise! After several weeks away recently, I came back to find that Melissa from A Place Where I Can Be Me and Ask an Infertile nominated me for a Sunshine Award. Thank you, Melissa! :)

I'm honored to be in such good company. Your words have lifted me up this year, too. Infertility is a lonely situation, so it always touches me when something I write seems to resonate with others.

A Sunshine Award is given to bloggers whose posts brighten your day. The rules*:

1. Include the Sunshine Award icon in your post.
2. Link to the person who nominated you.
3. Answer 10 questions about yourself.
4. Nominate 10 bloggers to receive the award.
5. Link your nominees and let them know they've been nominated.

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Here are my answers to Melissa's questions from A Place Where I Can Be Me:

1. What is a quote that you live by or one that really resonates with you?
   "Perfection is attained not when there's nothing more to add but when there's nothing more to take away." (Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, author of The Little Prince and other books) He was a pilot, and this quote was about aircraft design, but the message of simplicity has spoken to me since I first read it decades ago. Lately, though, perfection has much less allure, so I'd better balance out that quote with this other one that's close to my heart: "Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully." (2 Corinthians 9:6)
2. What is your favorite word?
   There are so many. There are words that I like for their sound and words that I like for their meaning. For a meaningful word ... I'll go with "yes." To me, it means engaging with the world even when things are really not as I'd prefer.
3. What word or phrase do you overuse?
   Uh-oh. It's got to be something obscene, said in traffic. I'll spare you the details.
4. What is one of your guilty pleasures?  It could be a food, a song, a movie, whatever.
   Talenti gelato is my current guilty pleasure. Seriously, I'm embarrassed to take out the recycling bin sometimes.
5. If your life was a movie, what would it be called and who would play you?
   When my hair was more red, I was told that I looked like Nicole Kidman, but I doubt that she'd be eager to star in "Hope Drives Back and Forth to the Clinic"! It seems like my life has been so dull lately, with everything else on hold.
6. You have tomorrow off work and you can do anything!  Money is no object!  What are you going to do?
   My first impulse is to go on one last camping trip before winter. Apparently, I need to upgrade my fantasies.
7. Your going on a 14 hour flight somewhere.  Name three MUST HAVES in your carry-on.
   A long book and music, to help tune out the reality of being trapped on a plane so long, and also a snack.
8. What is the one thing you want people to remember about you?
   They'll probably remember that I'm thoughtful ... for better or worse. It's a good thing when it makes me see beyond the surface and live intentionally. It's a bad thing when it makes me morbid.
9. You can change your name tomorrow, no hassle. Would you and if so, to what?
   Probably not. I'm lucky to have a first name I really like and a last name that's OK. It has enough history that I wouldn't want to ditch it altogether. A few years ago, when my ex and I talked about marriage, we talked about combining some letters from our last names to make a new name, which we'd both adopt. I still love that idea.
10. Fantasy pet (responsibilities, cost, and all realistic things aside)--What would it be and why?
    I can watch birds of prey (hawks, owls, and falcons) for hours. In my fantasy, I'd build a big backyard aviary to care for some that are injured and can't be released. Then I'd hire someone else to defrost all the dead mice at feeding time!

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Here are my answers to Melissa's questions from Ask an Infertile:

1. Where did you come up with the name of your blog (this intrigues me)?
   It comes from the Leonard Cohen song "Anthem," which has these lyrics: "Ring the bells that still can ring; Forget your perfect offering; There is a crack in everything; That's how the light gets in." I know, it's not short and snappy like a blog name is supposed to be. But I love how those lyrics acknowledge that pain and action / growth can coexist.
2. You have the chance to be told 5 significant events that will occur in your lifetime (what will happen and when).  Do you want to know and why?
   It's a tough choice. If I know, I can prepare for the predestined outcome and not waste time fearing all the other possibilities. But my heart says no—a sense of wonder and hope are essential, too.
3. If you could do any job, regardless of money or talent, what would it be?
   Nature photographer!
4. What was your favorite Halloween costume when you were young?
   One year I dressed up as a houseplant. I got to dye my hair green (which may have started the lifelong habit of messing with my hair) and stick leaves and twigs all over myself. No worries about someone else having the same costume that year.
5. Has infertility changed you?
   For sure. It's made me more compassionate, as I've come to see that everyone goes through truly awful things if they just live long enough. On the other hand, I'm sometimes too freaking depressed to act on that compassion. Now I have this disturbing habit: I start to think about something I like, something I could get excited about, and I'm automatically on guard against "getting too attached," in case it doesn't work out. Thwarting our own desires has a way of sucking the energy out of life.
6. What is your favorite thing about yourself?
   Why is that so hard to answer? I guess I'd say this: I try to find beauty in places, people, and situations where it's easy to overlook.
7. You can eat one thing every day for the next month.  What is it?
   Probably salad, because there are so many variations of it (or is that cheating?) and because I won't feel awful at the end of the month.
8. If you had a superpower, what would it be?
   It would be awesome never to get tired, physically or mentally. I wouldn't need any special strength. No need to lift cars with one finger. Just more hours in the day (with less sleep required) and the alertness to enjoy them.
9. Would you rather live one 1000 year life or ten 100 year lives?
   Definitely ten 100-year lives. Living through 1,000 years of change sounds overwhelming.
10. What is your best piece of advice?
    Don't believe everything you think!

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Now here are my nominees:

• Sadie at Invincible Spring
• Wolfers at Baptism by Fire
• Shannon at Chasing Rainbows
• Amelia at Searching for Amelioration
• Maria at From Gutter to Stars
• Waiting For Baby
• Not when, but IF
• FormerlyMMM
• A Road Less Traveled
• I'm almost out of room, but there are others whose writing I love. Some have been nominated already. Some are in the middle of very hard, non-sunshiney times (A Single Journey and The Unexpected Trip come to mind). It didn't feel right to call everyone out "officially," but please know that I'm thinking of you, and if you're up for it, definitely DO consider yourself nominated!

Here are my questions for you:

1. Where do you feel the most at home (other than, you know, in your actual home)?
2. What song brings back good memories?
3. When did you know that you were ready to have children?
4. What's your next big (non-child-related) goal?
5. What's one of your pet peeves?
6. What's one of your favorite keepsakes?
7. Cats or dogs?
8. If you could live in any other place or time, what would it be?
9. If you had money to give away, who would receive it?
10. When was the last time you laughed really hard?

Though it took me a while to complete the Q&A (Sorry, Melissa!), it's been fun getting to know each other outside the usual focus.

* Of course, it's all optional. The main rule is no guilt! We all have some intense things going on, so I'll understand if you don't have time right now, or if you pick just a few favorite questions to answer. If you do participate, please post a comment that links to your answers and nominees, so that others can go check them out.

Remembrance Day

After being away for a while, I just realized recently that today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, a day intended "to help families live with their loss, not 'get over' their loss."

Today, I'm thinking of my Baby P, who would have been 6 weeks old now. I'm also thinking of a good friend, whose miscarriage ten years ago I virtually ignored in a clueless attempt to help her "get over" it. I said that I was sorry, then focused on her next pregnancy and never brought the first one up again.

Later, I apologized. She basically shrugged. Everyone grieves differently, and she said that my reaction hadn't felt hurtful to her at the time ... but it wasn't helpful either, I know now. Of course, she may have preferred not to talk about details. Still, I wish that I'd reached out and just asked, you know, "How are you really doing?"

Today, I still try to respect people's privacy, but I'm no longer afraid that simply talking about a loss causes grief. The grief is there anyway. For me, talking about it can feel better—more alive—than the dullness of trying to distract myself with less-important things.

So to all who've lost babies before or after birth, I'm thinking of you and them tonight.

source

This Month's Huge Decision

Another month, another huge TTC decision to make.

I'd really appreciate any input that anyone wants to share. There won't be many more tries, so I'm tied up in knots with wanting to make the "right" choice now.

Sometimes answers come best when I gather the facts and then set them aside for a while. Between thinking about work, lunch, and other regular stuff, I find myself naturally more drawn to one option than another. My heart and head agree. Unfortunately, that's not happening this time.

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Yesterday I spent the morning helping a friend with her move to a new house, where we had a great talk about the need to ask for help sometimes. Then I spent the afternoon at a party with other women who were TTC or had recently given birth. They were all around my age. I was hoping that someone in a position similar to mine would be there, that we could help each other—you know, trade info and advice.

It turned out that no-one there had been through more than two IUIs. I didn't realize it at first, so when they asked where I was with my efforts, I rattled off a few facts: gearing up for cycle seven (as an SMC) after last month's failed IVF. They asked if I'd done all those cycles without a break. "Well, no," I said. "There was the miscarriage..."

Luckily, I didn't say much more. There would have been no point, and I didn't want to discourage the ones who were still trying. I don't want to be a bummer, a cautionary tale, the worst-case scenario. But I am. I'm their nightmare.

It sure is weird. I remember when I first read all those IVF terms—FET, ICSI, dp5dt—and thought, No. Way. It seemed as foreign and complex as astrophysics. I had zero interest in it. It would never have any bearing on my life ... until it did. Now I have to remember that what's become normal to me is still foreign to almost everyone else.

Even so, it was a fun afternoon. Everyone was friendly, of course. It does my heart good to talk with other women about lighter things and to be around kids. After all, it's important to look up from my TTC notes sometimes and remember just why I'm doing all this.

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Now, though, back to the notes and decisions.

The options are another medicated IVF with a different protocol or another natural-cycle (no stimulation) IVF. The former is what most people would consider the logical choice. The latter is what got me pregnant last winter on the first try. You can probably guess which options my head and heart prefer.

I was going to lay out all the pros and cons here. But you know what? It will make my brain explode, and it will put you right to sleep. Instead, here are some questions for those who are familiar with this stuff:

• Have you used an estrogen-priming protocol after an antagonist protocol? How did the results compare? Was the second one shorter? More effective? (My RE thinks the first one may have "over-suppressed" me, made the cycle extra long, and thereby damaged the egg quality.)
• I'd never heard the theory about long cycles degrading egg quality. Now I'm wondering: Is the quality degraded by the meds themselves and/or by the extra time it takes the eggs to mature? If meds are part of the problem, how much damage do they cause in a regular (not extra-long) cycle?? I'll ask the doctor next week, but meanwhile I'm very curious.

Which way do we go?

Thank You

To those who've offered sympathy, commiserating rants, and wishes for better days ahead, THANK YOU. On days when everything sucks, it's amazing how much a few kind words stand out and really do help.

Going All-In

As the gamblers say, I'm all-in now.

A couple of weeks ago, I made the biggest purchase of my life: a package that includes up to two fresh IVF cycles and two FETs. I went for the whole package because my odds are grim, and it's discounted almost 50% this way.

That's me: weighing the odds and trying to be careful. I am SO not a gambler. In fact, the most money I've ever gambled before was $2 on the nickel slots in Las Vegas. Yeah, seriously. It was a family trip years ago, and my 80-year-old grandmother spent more than I did. Throw in a few raffle tickets over the years, and there you have my whole financial risk-taking profile.

So lately I've been waking up with a start at 3 AM, panicked over the numbers in my head. No, I'm not on the verge of moving into a cardboard box. I just have such minimalist habits that, first of all, numbers this big scare me on a gut level.

Source: Baby Dust Boutique

Some background: in my last apartment, where my partner and I lived for years, my half of the rent was $200/month. (The place was basic and we did major work on it.) I've lived without electricity or plumbing. Never had cable. Kept my last car for 15 years. I've even been cutting my own hair since the unplanned DIY hack job haircut in February has gotten so many compliments (which cracks me up, by the way).

To a point, of course, living simply is great. It's enabled me to have the options I do. But I don't want to cross the line into a stinginess that spreads beyond my wallet into my whole personality. I want it to be about honoring my priorities, not about pride or self-denial. You know? As cold as it is to go around bragging, "Look how much I have," it can be equally cold to go around bragging, "Look how little I need from the world."

Pride and self-denial are tempting when I'm feeling especially bitter. Didn't get something I really wanted? "Well, I've lived without it this long already, so I'll get by. Who cares? There's not much point in caring anyway." What a joyless way to live.

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A few months ago, I had lunch with a relative I don't see often but have always especially loved. I finally told her about TTC, being pregnant, the whole story. It's not like I had meant to keep it a secret. It's just that TTC is usually a private process ... and who knew it was going to take YEARS? But now that it has indeed taken years, it's starting to feel more and more like a wedge between me and the people who don't know. They ask what I've been doing lately, and what can I say? Nothing much that feels authentic.

Maybe I also waited to tell this aunt because she's childless by choice. I knew she'd be supportive in the end, but didn't know if she'd really "get it." Oh, was I wrong. I started explaining about in-vitro fertilization and how it all works, and she interrupted to ask, "Oh, you mean IVF?" She knew all about it. And when I talked about wishing I could go to a certain clinic with very high success rates (and very high prices), she basically said, "You only live once, and this is important to you. Go for it!"

I stuck with my old clinic in the end, but I loved her attitude. This is a woman who lives in a small cabin in the woods and knows all about simplicity. Yet she was the one whose warm heart made me rethink what I really want to put first: frugality for its own sake, or generosity in service of my values (as Carolyn Hax describes so well), even when it scares me a bit. Talking with my aunt reminded me that I can never truly be self-contained, even if I try. And why try? There are things I can give to and things that I need from this world―not lots of material things, true, but sincere relationships, expansiveness, hope.

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So I'm taking a leap of faith. Meanwhile, I'm realizing that what keeps me up at night is not so much worries about the future―although they're certainly there, too―but brooding about the past and how my IVF money "should" have been spent. It should have helped me buy a home. I should be in that home right now with my partner and our child. Then I wake up all the way and look around. And here I am.

I heard someone say once that acceptance means giving up all hope of a better past. Clearly, there's no other choice, is there? So count me in. Whatever the outcome, count me in all the way.

ICLW

If you're here as part of ICLW, welcome! (If not, you're still welcome! And you might want to check out the ICLW list, since it includes a lot of great blogs.) I signed up for a second time because last time was so worthwhile.

You can read the basics of my infertility journey here, and my first post explains why I started writing about it.

What's new this month? I'm still sitting out the recovery time after a miscarriage, which means there will be more than a 5-month gap between my last cycle and next. I have mixed feelings about the next.

On one hand, I wanted to start trying right away, because last time (almost) worked and that was awesome—it felt like a miracle. Also, there's just no time to spare; I have severe DOR, and it's probably time to move on to the most aggressive options.

Which leads to the mixed feelings. Surely I'm not the only one feeling discouraged, afraid, and overwhelmed sometimes? When those feelings are at their worst, I want to curl up under the covers and avoid dealing with anything else that's painful (enough already!) ... even if there may be rewards beyond the pain.

So last weekend, in my best kind-but-firm "mom voice," I had a little talk with myself about the avoidance habit. It was an infertility intervention—a name I borrowed from this post at The 2 Week Wait, which says:

I know firsthand that it's easier to hope that things will work out somehow. That maybe next cycle, somehow, I'll get pregnant if I pray really hard or maybe I'll get pregnant while I'm in Disney World or maybe I don't have a problem and I just need to eat more chocolate.

No one wants to have an IVF. No one wants daily blood work or to be regularly intimately involved in vaginal sonograms. It sucks, it's not fun and it's not the way you expected it to be. The fact is though that if you're not getting pregnant, this is my personal urge to you to fight. Fight hard. See another doctor, get another opinion, be your own advocate and don't waste time avoiding what may be the very thing that can help.

That last sentence was just what I needed to hear. My own "intervention" involved several days of medical research and financial planning. (I've done all that stuff before, of course, but it's been a while.) It helped me separate feelings from facts. (Both are valid, but it's important to understand which is which.) It was unpleasant. It was also necessary. I now have a much better list of things to consider and to ask my REs.

So that's what's new. When I'm not obsessing about TTC options, I'm probably thinking about fostering options or just trying to maintain some sense of humor and perspective. Feel free to look around and comment on anything new or old. I'll pay you a visit in return. Sharing this journey with and learning from others has been one of the main forces helping me stay sane.

Happy ICLW!