November 27, 2009
Test for password protect
Edit: Sweet! It worked :) There may be password-protected posts in the future, so if you'd like the key, please leave a comment to that entry and make sure you leave an email when you comment and I'll email it to you.
Full bellies
A delicious Thanksgiving indeed. Family, food, and good times had by all.
(This is mostly a test post from the iPod Touch that Ari won me as a raffle prize at the convention he went to last week.)
Today, just relaxing at my parents' house watching Battlestar Galactica: The Plan. More to post about later.
(This is mostly a test post from the iPod Touch that Ari won me as a raffle prize at the convention he went to last week.)
Today, just relaxing at my parents' house watching Battlestar Galactica: The Plan. More to post about later.
November 24, 2009
I need a change.
I've felt stagnant lately. Perhaps it's the change of season. Perhaps it's my lack of periods- the months just blur into one another. Perhaps it's a matter of taking myself out of the elements that remind me of my infertility on a daily basis- I need to detach from the spaces I'm surrounded in.
I've been reconsidering a major career change recently. I currently work in higher education in the student affairs field. Five years ago, this is what I wanted to do with my life. Now... not so much. My heart just isn't in it anymore. I had this grand vision of being a Dean of Students at a small liberal arts college one day. Now, I want simplicity. The dream job?
A stay-at-home mom.
Even when I was in college, in my gender and womens' studies classes, I would defend this choice. It's totally possible to be a feminist and be a SAHM- the feminism isn't about doing all the jobs and getting paid as equally as men. It's part of it, but ultimately, I see pure feminism as having the choice to do those jobs and demand equal pay. If you want to be a housewife, go for it. If you want to be a CEO, that's awesome too.
SAHM's aren't exactly the pinnacle of income-generating careers, so Ari and I made the agreement: if I can supplement an income, find some way to make it work so he's not sole breadwinner, sure- let's do it. That all changed when he got laid off. Now I'm not only the breadwinner, I'm also the provider of housing and insurance, so making a major career switch is going to involve a lot of research and planning before we can invest fully in this decision. His business is still in its infancy, so we can't rely on an income from that just yet.
This leaves me at an impasse, where, I kind of like my job, kind of don't, but I don't like my field, which is a greater issue for me. As an INFP, my job must be closely tied to my values, and if the field I work in no longer aligns closely with my values, then it's a bad fit on a much larger scale.
The first step to this plan is to figure out exactly what I want to do. This is a bit of a challenge, b/c in addition to being an INFP, I'm a classic Gemini, so my interests are all over the map. My strengths are also all over the map as a result. Ari likes to joke that when I take an interest in something, I not only learn it overnight, I master it. While I'm too modest to really say that, let's just say I pick up new skills and interests quickly and with some skill. A lot of the times I feel like I'm just faking it or just making it up as I go along, but the end results are usually pretty good.
Stuff I interested in; * = things I'm actually pretty good at.
The issue? Figuring out if any of these, whether combined with one another or singly, can lead to possible careers if I'm starting basically from scratch, even though I've had passing interest and experience with all of these things. I may not have a formal design porfolio, but I've done a lot of work within other jobs over the years. I may not have a degree in English, but I've been writing for a long time. I may not have gone to art school, but I've got a natural eye for design and photography. A lot of the things I like to do and am good at just come naturally to me. However, writing a resume and putting down, "Well, I like it and I'm good at it" isn't going to get me very far.
Ari has suggested talking with people in jobs I want to do, but I'm not at a point to say, "I want to do X job." He's also suggested doing apprenticeships if I can, like coming in on the weekends and working with a local stationer, or working at the wine and cheese or floral sections of a place like Whole Foods or a florist shop.
All of this fills me with a small amount of terror, b/c as any INFP can tell you, initiating conversations with strangers is terrifying and taxing. For now, I'm still in the "what job is out there that combines all of these things into one that pays good money and offers health insurance written in the state of MA?"
Anyone have any thoughts or advice out there? I feel like trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up when I'm already 27 is an exercise in futility.
I've been reconsidering a major career change recently. I currently work in higher education in the student affairs field. Five years ago, this is what I wanted to do with my life. Now... not so much. My heart just isn't in it anymore. I had this grand vision of being a Dean of Students at a small liberal arts college one day. Now, I want simplicity. The dream job?
A stay-at-home mom.
Even when I was in college, in my gender and womens' studies classes, I would defend this choice. It's totally possible to be a feminist and be a SAHM- the feminism isn't about doing all the jobs and getting paid as equally as men. It's part of it, but ultimately, I see pure feminism as having the choice to do those jobs and demand equal pay. If you want to be a housewife, go for it. If you want to be a CEO, that's awesome too.
SAHM's aren't exactly the pinnacle of income-generating careers, so Ari and I made the agreement: if I can supplement an income, find some way to make it work so he's not sole breadwinner, sure- let's do it. That all changed when he got laid off. Now I'm not only the breadwinner, I'm also the provider of housing and insurance, so making a major career switch is going to involve a lot of research and planning before we can invest fully in this decision. His business is still in its infancy, so we can't rely on an income from that just yet.
This leaves me at an impasse, where, I kind of like my job, kind of don't, but I don't like my field, which is a greater issue for me. As an INFP, my job must be closely tied to my values, and if the field I work in no longer aligns closely with my values, then it's a bad fit on a much larger scale.
The first step to this plan is to figure out exactly what I want to do. This is a bit of a challenge, b/c in addition to being an INFP, I'm a classic Gemini, so my interests are all over the map. My strengths are also all over the map as a result. Ari likes to joke that when I take an interest in something, I not only learn it overnight, I master it. While I'm too modest to really say that, let's just say I pick up new skills and interests quickly and with some skill. A lot of the times I feel like I'm just faking it or just making it up as I go along, but the end results are usually pretty good.
Stuff I interested in; * = things I'm actually pretty good at.
- *Writing, particularly introspective non-fiction. I feel a memoir at 27 is a bit silly though.
- *Judaism, particularly cantorical work. My Hebrew however, is virtually non-existent.
- *Travel, and travel writing.
- Food, and writing about food.
- *Wine... and drinking lots of it.
- *Floral design.
- *Graphics & web design, but I no almost no CSS, which is an issue. Love to do invites, flyers, business materials, posters.
- Mushrooms: I have long wanted to study what mushroom is what so I can walk through the woods, picking what I want to eat.
- *Cheese... and eating lots of it.
- *Making personal, one-on-one differences in people's lives.
- Advocating for social change.
- *Coming up with marketing campaigns.
- *Photography, although I have no idea how to use a manual. I cheat with my Lumix LX3.
- *Scrapbooking and paper crafts.
- Nature and the outdoors: hiking, camping, canoeing.
- *Being a good listening/pseudo counselor. No degree in counseling, but I like to think I do a halfway decent job through the work I do in higher ed.
The issue? Figuring out if any of these, whether combined with one another or singly, can lead to possible careers if I'm starting basically from scratch, even though I've had passing interest and experience with all of these things. I may not have a formal design porfolio, but I've done a lot of work within other jobs over the years. I may not have a degree in English, but I've been writing for a long time. I may not have gone to art school, but I've got a natural eye for design and photography. A lot of the things I like to do and am good at just come naturally to me. However, writing a resume and putting down, "Well, I like it and I'm good at it" isn't going to get me very far.
Ari has suggested talking with people in jobs I want to do, but I'm not at a point to say, "I want to do X job." He's also suggested doing apprenticeships if I can, like coming in on the weekends and working with a local stationer, or working at the wine and cheese or floral sections of a place like Whole Foods or a florist shop.
All of this fills me with a small amount of terror, b/c as any INFP can tell you, initiating conversations with strangers is terrifying and taxing. For now, I'm still in the "what job is out there that combines all of these things into one that pays good money and offers health insurance written in the state of MA?"
Anyone have any thoughts or advice out there? I feel like trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up when I'm already 27 is an exercise in futility.
November 23, 2009
Thanksgiving is a complicated holiday for me.
I *love* Thanksgiving. It's my favorite holiday of the entire year. My second favorite? Passover... which may as well be Jewish Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving b/c I like sitting down with my family, breaking out the good dishes, breaking out the nice wine glasses, and when I was younger, it was the official gateway to Christmas. As I child, I would marvel at the casserole after casserole of food, the house full of delicious spices and turkey cooking all morning. Yet as my title suggests, Thanksgiving is a complicated holiday for me.
In 2000, the day after Thanksgiving, I went to my highschool's yearly rival football game, meeting up with a bunch of friends from highschool. Afterward, we went to lunch at Chili's. I remember eating a ton of queso dip. That evening, I went out bowling with Ari (my bf at the time, how cute) and my sister and brother-in-law. I bowled an 11 - to date, the absolute worst game I've ever bowled. By that evening, I wasn't feeling too hot: mostly nausea with increasing cramping in my lower left abdomen. The next 72 hours are kind of fuzzy: two ER visits and 1 emergency surgery later on November 27, I was down an ovary and lucky to be alive. I had an ovarian cyst that torsioned around the ovary and caused it to become necrotic. (Yeah, I know- gross, right?) The next few weeks I was home from college recovering, doing work at home and emailing it to my professors. I was left with tiny physical scars, but deeper ones emotionally. I remember struggling with this idea that I felt like a tree with a broken branch, that I was somehow incomplete. I was assured my fertility would remain in tact. Did this contribute to my POF? Probably. But I suppose being around to tell this tale is better than not being here at all.
Two years later, Ari's grandfather passed away the day before Thanksgiving, on November 26. While Ari and I had been (back) together for only about 2 years at this point, I was still very close with his family, and in a lot of ways, when Pop passed, it was like losing my last surviving grandfather (my mom's father died before I was born, and my Ojichan had passed away in 2000, in the earlier part of November). That was a tough Thanksgiving that year. My heart particularly goes out to my Ari's mom this year; this is the first Thanksgiving without either parent, after Nan passed in August.
Thanksgiving is actually on November 26 this year. I can't believe a) it's been 9 years since my surgery and b) it's been 7 years since Pop died. I hate this time of year. But I fucking love Thanksgiving.
This year, we're doing the first combined families Thanksgiving: Ari's family is coming over to my parents' house. My sister and her husband will be joining us for dessert, since they're swinging by my brother-in-law's father's house first. It's going to be a lot of people, a lot of food, and a lot of good times. But it's still hard. This is the first Thanksgiving I'll be putting my surgery in the context of my infertility. Thankfully, I have an appt with my counselor tomorrow night. I'm hoping I can work through some of this there.
Right now, I'm just trying to focus on the food and sharing the time with family, and less on all the baggage I'll have stuffed under the table. Set my sights on the sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, and honey mustard for the turkey, less on babies.
Also: Mel is hosting a virtual Thanksgiving over at Stirrup Queens. I brought the wine. What are you bringing?
In 2000, the day after Thanksgiving, I went to my highschool's yearly rival football game, meeting up with a bunch of friends from highschool. Afterward, we went to lunch at Chili's. I remember eating a ton of queso dip. That evening, I went out bowling with Ari (my bf at the time, how cute) and my sister and brother-in-law. I bowled an 11 - to date, the absolute worst game I've ever bowled. By that evening, I wasn't feeling too hot: mostly nausea with increasing cramping in my lower left abdomen. The next 72 hours are kind of fuzzy: two ER visits and 1 emergency surgery later on November 27, I was down an ovary and lucky to be alive. I had an ovarian cyst that torsioned around the ovary and caused it to become necrotic. (Yeah, I know- gross, right?) The next few weeks I was home from college recovering, doing work at home and emailing it to my professors. I was left with tiny physical scars, but deeper ones emotionally. I remember struggling with this idea that I felt like a tree with a broken branch, that I was somehow incomplete. I was assured my fertility would remain in tact. Did this contribute to my POF? Probably. But I suppose being around to tell this tale is better than not being here at all.
Two years later, Ari's grandfather passed away the day before Thanksgiving, on November 26. While Ari and I had been (back) together for only about 2 years at this point, I was still very close with his family, and in a lot of ways, when Pop passed, it was like losing my last surviving grandfather (my mom's father died before I was born, and my Ojichan had passed away in 2000, in the earlier part of November). That was a tough Thanksgiving that year. My heart particularly goes out to my Ari's mom this year; this is the first Thanksgiving without either parent, after Nan passed in August.
Thanksgiving is actually on November 26 this year. I can't believe a) it's been 9 years since my surgery and b) it's been 7 years since Pop died. I hate this time of year. But I fucking love Thanksgiving.
This year, we're doing the first combined families Thanksgiving: Ari's family is coming over to my parents' house. My sister and her husband will be joining us for dessert, since they're swinging by my brother-in-law's father's house first. It's going to be a lot of people, a lot of food, and a lot of good times. But it's still hard. This is the first Thanksgiving I'll be putting my surgery in the context of my infertility. Thankfully, I have an appt with my counselor tomorrow night. I'm hoping I can work through some of this there.
Right now, I'm just trying to focus on the food and sharing the time with family, and less on all the baggage I'll have stuffed under the table. Set my sights on the sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, and honey mustard for the turkey, less on babies.
Also: Mel is hosting a virtual Thanksgiving over at Stirrup Queens. I brought the wine. What are you bringing?
November 21, 2009
Welcome to November's IComLeavWe!
Welcome new folks stopping by for ICLW: Hi, I'm Miriam! *waves* (not my real name, but my Hebrew name). Welcome to Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed. For more info on those ladies, check out the link to the right. For more info in general about me and how I got here, again, head on over to the right column. And for the latest fun in my life, check out the few posts below this one.
I thought I'd kick off this ICLW with an A to Z meme. Here we go:
Ari: My husband, my soulmate, my best friend of over a decade, and yet we haven't even been married 2 years. Not his real name; his Hebrew name as well.
Boston: Moved here almost 2.5 years ago, and love living in MA, minus the winters.
Camping: Still a relatively new hobby within the last few years, and I love it.
Donor egg: This is pretty much our only option for me to be pregnant. Saving up the money and trying to get our lives in order to make this happen in the next few years.
Entrepreneur: Another reference to my husband, Ari - he just started his own business in the last month, after being laid off for nearly 8 months.
Foodie: Wine, cheese, sauces made with butter, garlic, creme... these are a few of my favorite things.
Geocaching: A new hobby within the last few months, it's quickly becoming one of my favorite ways to spend the weekend with my husband.
Hashimoto's thyroiditis: An autoimmune thyroid disorder where my body is attacking my thyroid, rendering it pretty much useless. Dx'd with Hashi's just a month or so after my POF Dx.
INFP: My MBTI personality. This says volumes about me, actually.
JBC (Jew-by-choice): I converted in 2007. My Judaism and my faith are very important, defining aspects of my character.
Kafka On the Shore: One of my favorite novels, by Japanese writer Haruki Murakami.
Listening to: Lots of Radiohead, Thom Yorke, Muse, and Annie Lennox on the iPod right now.
Miriam: I chose this as my Hebrew name b/c she was the songstress of the Torah, leading the people of Israel in song and dance when they escaped the Egyptians after cross the Sea of Reeds. She also provided the Israelites with a mystical traveling well to sustain them during their years of wandering.
Not sure of what's next: Finances, jobs, and housing just aren't lining up the way we'd like to right now, so any kind of IF treatment just isn't possible right now, and I'm terribly impatient.
Oophorectomy: I had my left ovary removed in November of 2000 from a torsioned cyst.
Premature ovarian failure: Diagnosed in March of this year; my remaining ovary simply doesn't have any follicles left. Essentially, I've gone into menopause at age 26.
Questioning if adoption is really right for us.
Red Tent Temple: A monthly gathering of women I go to. See two entries down for more info.
Sushi: I love it, so much.
Tequila: My liquor of choice.
Up: My favorite movie right now. Everything from how it handled IF, to "Adventure is out there!" - it's a beautiful, powerful, wonderfully adult movie that just happens to be animated.
Vacations: We honeymooned in Disney World and took a Disney cruise to the Bahamas, did a 5-day tour of California, and just spent two weeks in Japan last month.
Wish: That 2010 will be a much better year than 2009, b/c boy, 2009 sucked.
eXtra Facts About Me: I hold a beauty pageant title from high school, have sung at Carnegie Hall, and I love graphic design.
Yardsaling: Another favorite pasttime with my husband.
Zazz: A word I associate with Metalocalypse, one of my favorite shows on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim.
I thought I'd kick off this ICLW with an A to Z meme. Here we go:
Ari: My husband, my soulmate, my best friend of over a decade, and yet we haven't even been married 2 years. Not his real name; his Hebrew name as well.
Boston: Moved here almost 2.5 years ago, and love living in MA, minus the winters.
Camping: Still a relatively new hobby within the last few years, and I love it.
Donor egg: This is pretty much our only option for me to be pregnant. Saving up the money and trying to get our lives in order to make this happen in the next few years.
Entrepreneur: Another reference to my husband, Ari - he just started his own business in the last month, after being laid off for nearly 8 months.
Foodie: Wine, cheese, sauces made with butter, garlic, creme... these are a few of my favorite things.
Geocaching: A new hobby within the last few months, it's quickly becoming one of my favorite ways to spend the weekend with my husband.
Hashimoto's thyroiditis: An autoimmune thyroid disorder where my body is attacking my thyroid, rendering it pretty much useless. Dx'd with Hashi's just a month or so after my POF Dx.
INFP: My MBTI personality. This says volumes about me, actually.
JBC (Jew-by-choice): I converted in 2007. My Judaism and my faith are very important, defining aspects of my character.
Kafka On the Shore: One of my favorite novels, by Japanese writer Haruki Murakami.
Listening to: Lots of Radiohead, Thom Yorke, Muse, and Annie Lennox on the iPod right now.
Miriam: I chose this as my Hebrew name b/c she was the songstress of the Torah, leading the people of Israel in song and dance when they escaped the Egyptians after cross the Sea of Reeds. She also provided the Israelites with a mystical traveling well to sustain them during their years of wandering.
Not sure of what's next: Finances, jobs, and housing just aren't lining up the way we'd like to right now, so any kind of IF treatment just isn't possible right now, and I'm terribly impatient.
Oophorectomy: I had my left ovary removed in November of 2000 from a torsioned cyst.
Premature ovarian failure: Diagnosed in March of this year; my remaining ovary simply doesn't have any follicles left. Essentially, I've gone into menopause at age 26.
Questioning if adoption is really right for us.
Red Tent Temple: A monthly gathering of women I go to. See two entries down for more info.
Sushi: I love it, so much.
Tequila: My liquor of choice.
Up: My favorite movie right now. Everything from how it handled IF, to "Adventure is out there!" - it's a beautiful, powerful, wonderfully adult movie that just happens to be animated.
Vacations: We honeymooned in Disney World and took a Disney cruise to the Bahamas, did a 5-day tour of California, and just spent two weeks in Japan last month.
Wish: That 2010 will be a much better year than 2009, b/c boy, 2009 sucked.
eXtra Facts About Me: I hold a beauty pageant title from high school, have sung at Carnegie Hall, and I love graphic design.
Yardsaling: Another favorite pasttime with my husband.
Zazz: A word I associate with Metalocalypse, one of my favorite shows on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim.
November 20, 2009
Why all the hate on women's health?
I'm hoppin' mad about the state of women's health care in this country right now.
Recently, a national task force has made recommendations made about mammograms in women over 40. Today, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) has made recommendations to increase the age of initial pap smears to 21 instead of 18 and to do them every other year rather than annually.
My first question: what's with all of the recommendations about women's health all of a sudden? Why is the general consensus that less preventative screening is better? To reduce women's anxiety, as several articles on both subjects claim? Are you kidding me? Is this the Victorian era, where we need to be careful about the anxious tendencies in women and bouts of hysteria?
I'm calling bullshit on you, insurance industry.
Preventative medicine is expensive. Mammograms, pap smears - these annual exams cost the health care industry- and more importantly the insurance companies- a good chunk of change. So if a national task force makes a recommendation that no, your routine mammogram screening at 42 really isn't necessary, then your health insurance company has more leverage to say, "Sure, you can get your mammogram. But we won't cover it." What I find particularly concerning from ACOG about the new pap smear recommendations is that this greatly impacts younger women's health. Women in the prime of their lives are being told to put on the earmuffs about their own reproductive health- essentially, "don't worry about having pap smears annually b/c of false positives, because of stress" - at a time when women need to be the strongest advocates of their own reproductive health.
I'm concerned when recommendations on women's health are being made on a national scale for women to simply "Don't worry about it, b/c it might stress you out."
Are false positives stressful? Yes. Can abnormal pap smears or mammograms result in unnecessary surgery? Yes. But would you rather run the risk that by not getting screened, you miss a cancer in its earliest stages, and thus, at its best treatable stage? Tell me about stress and anxiety then, National Task Force Making Recommendations About Mammograms that had *no* oncologists on it?
Also stressful: women who can't afford to pay for those annual exams when their insurance denies their claim. FFS, there are people who've simply stopped taking their medicine altogether b/c they can't afford it in this economy right now.
I will admit, there are a million things I wished I had learned about my own reproductive health as a teenager. I wish, instead of being scared into pregnancy by just holding my boyfriend's hand, I was told about the realities and statistics surrounding conception. There's only so much health class will get into, and saying that high school sex ed scratches the surface is being generous. But at 18, I knew my first pap smear meant taking an active role in my sexual and reproductive health. In the last 9 years, I have learned that I need to be even MORE of an advocate for my own health, but annual exams at least kept my reproductive health on my radar. I'm so tired that women are told to "stop worrying, it's all stress anyway" - when really, there are greater health issues hat are simply being ignored by lazy doctors.
(I realize there is a larger cultural issue with the fact that women talking about their hoohahs in groups, let alone in public, is generally taboo, that open, educational dialogues about sex, reproduction, and all things girlie bits are too gross or too shocking... but that's a battle for another day.)
And don't even get me started on the latest legislation in this country that intrudes on a couple's privacy with regard to infertility treatment, including government mandated reporting of a woman's every miscarriage. (Residents of Michigan: please advocate to overturn these bills in your state senate!)
If we don't stand up for ourselves and for women's health, who is going to do it for us? Certainly not national task forces or the insurance industry, that much is apparent, because making blanket recommendations that clearly favor that a woman's stress level over her longevity is just irresponsible, and quite frankly, offensive. I've shared this with women I care about in this note, women who have been their own advocates for their own health. I encourage you to share this with other similar women in your lives, or better yet, those that haven't stood up for their own health rights.
We need to make our voices heard on these issues - they're gambling with our lives, ladies, and I don't like to see these kind of odds stacked against our sisters, mothers, and daughters. I invite you to raise your voice with me.
Recently, a national task force has made recommendations made about mammograms in women over 40. Today, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) has made recommendations to increase the age of initial pap smears to 21 instead of 18 and to do them every other year rather than annually.
My first question: what's with all of the recommendations about women's health all of a sudden? Why is the general consensus that less preventative screening is better? To reduce women's anxiety, as several articles on both subjects claim? Are you kidding me? Is this the Victorian era, where we need to be careful about the anxious tendencies in women and bouts of hysteria?
I'm calling bullshit on you, insurance industry.
Preventative medicine is expensive. Mammograms, pap smears - these annual exams cost the health care industry- and more importantly the insurance companies- a good chunk of change. So if a national task force makes a recommendation that no, your routine mammogram screening at 42 really isn't necessary, then your health insurance company has more leverage to say, "Sure, you can get your mammogram. But we won't cover it." What I find particularly concerning from ACOG about the new pap smear recommendations is that this greatly impacts younger women's health. Women in the prime of their lives are being told to put on the earmuffs about their own reproductive health- essentially, "don't worry about having pap smears annually b/c of false positives, because of stress" - at a time when women need to be the strongest advocates of their own reproductive health.
I'm concerned when recommendations on women's health are being made on a national scale for women to simply "Don't worry about it, b/c it might stress you out."
Are false positives stressful? Yes. Can abnormal pap smears or mammograms result in unnecessary surgery? Yes. But would you rather run the risk that by not getting screened, you miss a cancer in its earliest stages, and thus, at its best treatable stage? Tell me about stress and anxiety then, National Task Force Making Recommendations About Mammograms that had *no* oncologists on it?
Also stressful: women who can't afford to pay for those annual exams when their insurance denies their claim. FFS, there are people who've simply stopped taking their medicine altogether b/c they can't afford it in this economy right now.
I will admit, there are a million things I wished I had learned about my own reproductive health as a teenager. I wish, instead of being scared into pregnancy by just holding my boyfriend's hand, I was told about the realities and statistics surrounding conception. There's only so much health class will get into, and saying that high school sex ed scratches the surface is being generous. But at 18, I knew my first pap smear meant taking an active role in my sexual and reproductive health. In the last 9 years, I have learned that I need to be even MORE of an advocate for my own health, but annual exams at least kept my reproductive health on my radar. I'm so tired that women are told to "stop worrying, it's all stress anyway" - when really, there are greater health issues hat are simply being ignored by lazy doctors.
(I realize there is a larger cultural issue with the fact that women talking about their hoohahs in groups, let alone in public, is generally taboo, that open, educational dialogues about sex, reproduction, and all things girlie bits are too gross or too shocking... but that's a battle for another day.)
And don't even get me started on the latest legislation in this country that intrudes on a couple's privacy with regard to infertility treatment, including government mandated reporting of a woman's every miscarriage. (Residents of Michigan: please advocate to overturn these bills in your state senate!)
If we don't stand up for ourselves and for women's health, who is going to do it for us? Certainly not national task forces or the insurance industry, that much is apparent, because making blanket recommendations that clearly favor that a woman's stress level over her longevity is just irresponsible, and quite frankly, offensive. I've shared this with women I care about in this note, women who have been their own advocates for their own health. I encourage you to share this with other similar women in your lives, or better yet, those that haven't stood up for their own health rights.
We need to make our voices heard on these issues - they're gambling with our lives, ladies, and I don't like to see these kind of odds stacked against our sisters, mothers, and daughters. I invite you to raise your voice with me.
Is the chalice is half empty or half full?
Allow me to indulge in a little tarot and my inner Goddess. This past Monday I went to the Salem Red Tent Temple. I've been a few times, and a good friend of mine (let's call her Honeybee) is one of the organizers. The concept is simple: mirror the ancient practice of women gathering for their monthly cycle a la The Red Tent (a must read for every woman. A brilliant, moving, amazing work of literature). All women are welcomed, young, old, single, married, divorced, widowed, fertile, barren, red green blue or purple - you get the idea. Coinciding with the new moon each month, we sit, we lounge, we have soup, we make offerings to the Goddess*, we share stories, we cry, we laugh, we create art and meditate, nap, and support. It is a wonderful, wonderful gathering.
*Through these Red Tent Temples, I have come to terms with exploring the Divine Feminine, or Shekinah, in Judaism. At this point in my spiritual journey, I'm not looking to a Divine Masculine/Father figure: I'm looking to the Malkah Ha-Olam (Queen of the Universe). So while there's lots of Goddess talk, I'm not Pagan. I'm a Jew through and through, but I see Adonai in her feminine context right now as opposed to the more traditional Avinu Malkenu (Our Father, Our King).
There are a couple of decks of tarot cards and this week, someone brought Goddess cards. I asked my Honeybee to do a reading for me. Here's what I pulled from the Goddess Tarot deck:
While we didn't necessarily do this with the intent of a past-present-future spread, it certainly reads that way. The Princess of Swords (commonly known as the Knight of Swords) wades through the reeds, her blade ever-ready to strike. Honeybee noted how it seems as though she presents one face forward, looking rather dainty as she gathers up her skirts, but the back of her hair is disheveled, her sword drawn. In a way, it's putting forward one face while keeping a high level of defensiveness up; but she is again, ready to strike and thus able to do what she has to do to survive. My other friend, a High Priestess (let's call her HP for short), and I both noticed how much this card reminded us of the Egyptian Princess who recovers Moses from the reeds.
The second card I drew was an inverted Queen of Cups. A symbol of fertility, its inverted meaning was painfully obvious. The suit of Cups also draws heavily on emotion, and her inverted chalice represents an outpouring of emotion. HP seems to think it's not so much that I'm empty, but perhaps I've given too much of my self lately, and that perhaps I need others to fill my cup. In its normal position, the Queen looks quite stable in the tumultuous sea around her, but inverted, it's clearly a symbol of instability.
The final card I drew was Justice (VIII in the Major Arcana). In other decks, Justice is XI; typically VIII is Strength. She is represented by Athena, who as HP noted, is often associated with war and decked out in her armor. Here she is presented as the Weaver Goddess in flowing robes. Athena is actually the Goddess of Wisdom, and is a brilliant strategist. HP felt that Justice does not necessarily mean "winning" but a sense of victory all the same. What I was surprised to see was the element of water reflected in all of my cards: the Princess in the reeds, the Queen in her sea, and if you look closely, there is an aqueduct in the background of Justice. As HP noted, Athena is a strategist, so perhaps I will find solutions that I don't necessarily come to mind at first. It's a little of bit thinking outside the box. I also noted that an aqueduct has the ability to sustain whole populations and cities for generations to come. I also saw Masonic imagery with the two columns in the card image as well (Ari is a Mason).
So, to put it simply: my guard is up but I put forward an "everything is just peachy!" face, I'm an emotional wreck in a sea of infertile instability, and my sense of Justice will come through non-traditional solutions and through careful research. That's pretty spot on, I would think.
I also pulled three cards from the Goddess Oracle deck, and the first one I pulled was Artemis, pictured below:
The card represents Selfhood. I thought the image of the huntress with her hunted was quite powerful. She is bare-breasted, confident, patient. I also thought it was funny that she had her hair up (I often wear mine in a ponytail or up in a clip). She clearly has her sights set on her target, and there is an assuredness about her that she will obtain that hunt. Quite simply, I need to aim my sights on what it is that I really want out of life, and go for it.
. . .
Today it's been exactly 11 months since my last period. I have often said, over this last almost-year, that I have missed the tampons, the cramps, the bleeding. I've lost my sense of marking time. The Red Tent Temple I go to has given me back a sense of this cycle. There is power and comfort to be found in gatherings of women. I take this same philosophy back with me to the IF community: we need to share our stories, cry our tears together, laugh and celebrate together. It is vital to our survival, and ultimately, to the fundamental sisterhood we share. I could go on about this, but I recommend heading over to Sonja's blog for more on thoughts on sisterhood, community, and support.
Closing thoughts: I am reminded of an opening psalm often sung before Friday night Shabbos services:
To all my sisters in the IF community, and all my sisters everywhere: I hope you find peace and unity this weekend.
Shabbat Shalom.
*Through these Red Tent Temples, I have come to terms with exploring the Divine Feminine, or Shekinah, in Judaism. At this point in my spiritual journey, I'm not looking to a Divine Masculine/Father figure: I'm looking to the Malkah Ha-Olam (Queen of the Universe). So while there's lots of Goddess talk, I'm not Pagan. I'm a Jew through and through, but I see Adonai in her feminine context right now as opposed to the more traditional Avinu Malkenu (Our Father, Our King).
There are a couple of decks of tarot cards and this week, someone brought Goddess cards. I asked my Honeybee to do a reading for me. Here's what I pulled from the Goddess Tarot deck:
The second card I drew was an inverted Queen of Cups. A symbol of fertility, its inverted meaning was painfully obvious. The suit of Cups also draws heavily on emotion, and her inverted chalice represents an outpouring of emotion. HP seems to think it's not so much that I'm empty, but perhaps I've given too much of my self lately, and that perhaps I need others to fill my cup. In its normal position, the Queen looks quite stable in the tumultuous sea around her, but inverted, it's clearly a symbol of instability.
The final card I drew was Justice (VIII in the Major Arcana). In other decks, Justice is XI; typically VIII is Strength. She is represented by Athena, who as HP noted, is often associated with war and decked out in her armor. Here she is presented as the Weaver Goddess in flowing robes. Athena is actually the Goddess of Wisdom, and is a brilliant strategist. HP felt that Justice does not necessarily mean "winning" but a sense of victory all the same. What I was surprised to see was the element of water reflected in all of my cards: the Princess in the reeds, the Queen in her sea, and if you look closely, there is an aqueduct in the background of Justice. As HP noted, Athena is a strategist, so perhaps I will find solutions that I don't necessarily come to mind at first. It's a little of bit thinking outside the box. I also noted that an aqueduct has the ability to sustain whole populations and cities for generations to come. I also saw Masonic imagery with the two columns in the card image as well (Ari is a Mason).
So, to put it simply: my guard is up but I put forward an "everything is just peachy!" face, I'm an emotional wreck in a sea of infertile instability, and my sense of Justice will come through non-traditional solutions and through careful research. That's pretty spot on, I would think.
I also pulled three cards from the Goddess Oracle deck, and the first one I pulled was Artemis, pictured below:
. . .
Today it's been exactly 11 months since my last period. I have often said, over this last almost-year, that I have missed the tampons, the cramps, the bleeding. I've lost my sense of marking time. The Red Tent Temple I go to has given me back a sense of this cycle. There is power and comfort to be found in gatherings of women. I take this same philosophy back with me to the IF community: we need to share our stories, cry our tears together, laugh and celebrate together. It is vital to our survival, and ultimately, to the fundamental sisterhood we share. I could go on about this, but I recommend heading over to Sonja's blog for more on thoughts on sisterhood, community, and support.
Closing thoughts: I am reminded of an opening psalm often sung before Friday night Shabbos services:
×ִ× ֵּ× ×ַ× ××ֹ× ×ּ×ַ× × ָּ×¢ִ×× ×©ֶׁ×ֶת ×ָ×ִ×× ×ַּ× ×ַ×ַ×
Hinei ma tov u’manayim shevet akh-im gam ya-khad.
How good and pleasant it is to dwell together in unity.
To all my sisters in the IF community, and all my sisters everywhere: I hope you find peace and unity this weekend.
Shabbat Shalom.
November 18, 2009
Bitter Bettie bites back!
On the Inspire.com RESOLVE boards, someone posted almost the exact same lament I had about Facebook status updates on Monday. There were 75 replies at last count to this discussion, so it's comforting to know there are a lot of folks dealing with IF who share my woes/frustrations/occasionally Bitter Bettie moments:
So... here are the four facebook statuses that my friends have on the site right now... I haven't included their real names... to protect the "innocent".
1. Julie... found out her due date - May 25th, 2010.
2. Sarah... realizes that God didn't intended pregnant women to work 40 hour weeks.
3. Samantha...'s unborn child is very squirmy in her belly today.
And finally... my favorite... the pregnancy announcement status:
4. Maddy... is expecting #2!!
Yikes!! And so I started this discussion to put up my own facebook statuses - ones that wouldn't be appropriate in the real facebook world.
Soccer... drank too many glasses of wine last night because she couldn't bear another pregnancy facebook status update.
OR
Soccer... is still NOT pregnant. Horrible needles and hormone injections didn't work. Thanks for asking.
In the replies, someone posted this link: STFU, Parents. It's comedy gold. From their description:
You used to be fun. Now you have a baby. If you're being driven crazy by your friends' baby updates every time you check your status feed, please feel free to contribute to this blog.
Miriam's Disclaimer: I'm not parent bashing, I promise. I know I'll get my turn in the sun, and will probably do all of these things that currently annoy me. But for now, I'm on the other end of the spectrum, and things look differently from this side of the fence. So to the parents out there that are reading this, please don't take offense. Poor, tasteless humor is one of my favorite ways of dealing with the crap life deals you.
November 16, 2009
Call me a Bitter Bettie.
Warning: it's about to get ranty up in here.
Firstly: Gender Reveal Parties. Are. you. shitting. me. I just can't even go any further with this.
Secondly: Facebook pregnancy announcements. Do they annoy you as much as they annoy me?
I bring this up because I recently had a childhood friend of Ari's send me a random message on FB: Hey stranger. Hope you guys are doing well. Add me as a friend. We need to catch up!
Mind you, I don't really know this person very well. It's not like I grew up with her. I can count the number of times actually seen her on one hand, easily. Is it wrong that the infertile in me immediately jumps to "Oh, she wants me to friend her so she can tell me she's pregnant"? She was married about 6 months before Ari and I and this is the first I've heard from her since OUR wedding almost 2 years ago. It all rang fishy to me. I happened to be logged into my husband's FB account working on some fan page stuff for his new business, and saw a posting from her, almost verbatim, on his Wall. I told Ari my suspicions, and later that day, he told me that she sent him an instant message on FB and was like, "Hi! How are you? I'm pregnant!" in one sentence.
Ugh... Shallow much? I friended her, but I've hidden her on my feed, b/c really, I don't need the pregnancy play-by-play for the next however many months. What gets me more is that she wanted me to friend her for the express purpose of a) announcing her pregnancy and b) to fish for a compliment. (Edit: I have since preened my friends list and unfriended her.)
The next favorite thing to find on FB? Ultrasound photos. And 9 times out of 10, it's the u/s pic that's that actual pregnancy announcement, like this helpful article suggests you should do. Will I post tons of u/s pics online if/when I'm pregnant? Probably. In fact, I will probably do all of the stereotypical pregnant lady things, but I will have at least my IF lens to maybe, perhaps, have some degree of sensitivity to others. But for right now, it drives me nuts. I actually sigh deeply through clenched teeth when I see these kinds of announcements, thinking, "When the fuck is it going to me my turn?"
I think what's most annoying, is that these things catch us off guard. It leaves us raw and reeling in an area we think we're safe: we're checking our Farms in Farmville, offing some Russians in Mafia Wars, looking at photos of random weddings and BAM! reminders of our own shortcomings. Wasn't Facebook supposed to be a safe space? PerhapsI was just naive.
I've learned that dealing with infertility is learning the fine art of compartmentalizing one's emotions, and I think to a certain extent, keeping up one's guard a little higher than most. I've been working with my therapist to be OK with emoting when and how I need to, grieving when I need to, and being ok with laying out my terms for those closest to me. As much as it's ok for me to say no to things like baby showers, I can emotionally say no to other things, like how I hear news and updates. I've recently refiltered my blogroll as a number of courageous ladies I've followed have had incredible successes in conquering their IF. It's inspiring yes, but I find the big ugly green J(ealousy) rears its head sometimes, so I need to set aside that time and that headspace to check in on these now pregnant bloggers.
What it comes down to is realizing it's ok for me to do what I need to emotionally support myself. And this is hard, b/c I've got a bit of that mother hen/matyr complex, where I constantly provide emotionally for others and leave hardly anything for myself... and this is the one time in my life where it should really be the other way around. It's a bit of a paradigm shift for me, and I struggle with it. Maybe it's my fear of being called selfish? Maybe it's my own approval-seeking complex? Or maybe it's just the first time in my life I've just felt truly and deeply robbed of an opportunity. Regardless, I need to take care of myself, and I'll do what I gotta do, quite simply.
Another way I cope? Humor, such as my new favorite blog, 999 Reasons to Laugh at Infertility. Go check her out... it's a hoot.
How are other folks coping out there? How do you deal with the random comments, the FB announcements, and all those other fun blindsided reminders?
Firstly: Gender Reveal Parties. Are. you. shitting. me. I just can't even go any further with this.
Secondly: Facebook pregnancy announcements. Do they annoy you as much as they annoy me?
I bring this up because I recently had a childhood friend of Ari's send me a random message on FB: Hey stranger. Hope you guys are doing well. Add me as a friend. We need to catch up!
Mind you, I don't really know this person very well. It's not like I grew up with her. I can count the number of times actually seen her on one hand, easily. Is it wrong that the infertile in me immediately jumps to "Oh, she wants me to friend her so she can tell me she's pregnant"? She was married about 6 months before Ari and I and this is the first I've heard from her since OUR wedding almost 2 years ago. It all rang fishy to me. I happened to be logged into my husband's FB account working on some fan page stuff for his new business, and saw a posting from her, almost verbatim, on his Wall. I told Ari my suspicions, and later that day, he told me that she sent him an instant message on FB and was like, "Hi! How are you? I'm pregnant!" in one sentence.
Ugh... Shallow much? I friended her, but I've hidden her on my feed, b/c really, I don't need the pregnancy play-by-play for the next however many months. What gets me more is that she wanted me to friend her for the express purpose of a) announcing her pregnancy and b) to fish for a compliment. (Edit: I have since preened my friends list and unfriended her.)
The next favorite thing to find on FB? Ultrasound photos. And 9 times out of 10, it's the u/s pic that's that actual pregnancy announcement, like this helpful article suggests you should do. Will I post tons of u/s pics online if/when I'm pregnant? Probably. In fact, I will probably do all of the stereotypical pregnant lady things, but I will have at least my IF lens to maybe, perhaps, have some degree of sensitivity to others. But for right now, it drives me nuts. I actually sigh deeply through clenched teeth when I see these kinds of announcements, thinking, "When the fuck is it going to me my turn?"
I think what's most annoying, is that these things catch us off guard. It leaves us raw and reeling in an area we think we're safe: we're checking our Farms in Farmville, offing some Russians in Mafia Wars, looking at photos of random weddings and BAM! reminders of our own shortcomings. Wasn't Facebook supposed to be a safe space? PerhapsI was just naive.
I've learned that dealing with infertility is learning the fine art of compartmentalizing one's emotions, and I think to a certain extent, keeping up one's guard a little higher than most. I've been working with my therapist to be OK with emoting when and how I need to, grieving when I need to, and being ok with laying out my terms for those closest to me. As much as it's ok for me to say no to things like baby showers, I can emotionally say no to other things, like how I hear news and updates. I've recently refiltered my blogroll as a number of courageous ladies I've followed have had incredible successes in conquering their IF. It's inspiring yes, but I find the big ugly green J(ealousy) rears its head sometimes, so I need to set aside that time and that headspace to check in on these now pregnant bloggers.
What it comes down to is realizing it's ok for me to do what I need to emotionally support myself. And this is hard, b/c I've got a bit of that mother hen/matyr complex, where I constantly provide emotionally for others and leave hardly anything for myself... and this is the one time in my life where it should really be the other way around. It's a bit of a paradigm shift for me, and I struggle with it. Maybe it's my fear of being called selfish? Maybe it's my own approval-seeking complex? Or maybe it's just the first time in my life I've just felt truly and deeply robbed of an opportunity. Regardless, I need to take care of myself, and I'll do what I gotta do, quite simply.
Another way I cope? Humor, such as my new favorite blog, 999 Reasons to Laugh at Infertility. Go check her out... it's a hoot.
How are other folks coping out there? How do you deal with the random comments, the FB announcements, and all those other fun blindsided reminders?
November 12, 2009
Show & Tell 4: Japan
It's time for another Show and Tell post! Show and Tell is brought to you by Mel over at Stirrup Queens. Make sure to go and check out what the other kids are showing this week!
I promised to show off some pictures from our trip to Japan last month, so here they are! We spent two weeks in Japan from October 10-24, staying with my uncle for most of the time. He, my Aunt, and my Obachan (grandmother) were incredibly gracious hosts. We managed to visit eight cities (Nara, Osaka, Tokyo, Kobe, Arima, Iga-Ueno, Hiroshima, Kyoto) in just thirteen days! It was quite simply the most amazing trip of my life: beautiful, spiritual, renewing. relaxing. We took over 1300 pictures and nearly two hours of video. Here are some of my favorite shots from the trip:
You might recognize these torii (gates) from Memoirs of a Geisha. These are from Fuishimi Inari Taisha, just south of Kyoto where more than 10,000 vermillion torii snake their way around the mountain to a summit shrine honoring the Shinto god of rice, wine, business and prosperity, Inari. While we didn't make it to the summit, it was fun making our ascent through the dizzying orange labyrinth of gates. And the lady on the left? That would be me :)
I promised to show off some pictures from our trip to Japan last month, so here they are! We spent two weeks in Japan from October 10-24, staying with my uncle for most of the time. He, my Aunt, and my Obachan (grandmother) were incredibly gracious hosts. We managed to visit eight cities (Nara, Osaka, Tokyo, Kobe, Arima, Iga-Ueno, Hiroshima, Kyoto) in just thirteen days! It was quite simply the most amazing trip of my life: beautiful, spiritual, renewing. relaxing. We took over 1300 pictures and nearly two hours of video. Here are some of my favorite shots from the trip:
This is DÅtonbori in Osaka. It's crazy busy, loud, and boisterous. We liked Osaka. as it reminded us of Boston in terms of lots of the bars and restaurant scene, with lots of intriguing people. Also, the guy in the suit? That's my uncle! This is one of my favorite pics from the whole trip.
This is Tosen Shrine in Arima, in the mountains north of Kobe. Arima was probably our favorite city; it's a resort town with hot springs all over the mountain that are pumped to the various resorts. The shrine was an accidental find while wandering the city; I found out later that the Shinto gods believed to be housed here not only protect the city, but are fertility gods as well. This shrine is often venerated by childless couples hoping to conceive. Go fig, huh?
This is the A-Bomb Dome in Hiroshima. What a profound, beautiful, haunting day. The Hiroshima Peace Park and Museum were probably one of the most humbling experiences of my life. This A-Bomb Dome, originally a government building, has been perpetually maintained in its original ruined state since the day of the bombing in 1944. One of the few structures to survive the bombing, it is officially the last structure still standing from that day.
These are two incredible photos are from the Kurama no Hi-Matsuri in Kurama, just north of Kyoto. It's a fire festival where men, wearing nothing more than loin cloths and sashes (pictured top), carry giant torches - anywhere from 15-18ft in length weighing more than 150 lbs each - up and down the mountain in an attempt to call the Shinto god down from the mountain. These giant torches are then made into a huge bonfire (pictured bottom). This festival has been done every year for the last 1300 years. It was the most primal thing I've ever experienced and we feel really lucky to be witnessed it first-hand.
What's the coolest vacation or most relaxing trip you've ever been on?
November 10, 2009
The hardest letter to write.
This post my submission to the Creme de la Creme 2009 list maintainted by Stirrup Queens. This was also published in the Spring 2010 issue of the RESOLVE of New England newsletter.
Dear-
Well, this leaves me at an impasse. I'm writing a letter to someone I have never met, never named.
Let's try this again, shall we?
. . .
I began this letter as an exercise in grief, in letting go. The goal was simple: write a letter to the genetic child I'll never have - a textbook psychotherapy homework assignment. Each time I would craft some eloquent opening in my head, rolling it around on my tongue without committing to speak it aloud or put it to paper. I would have these passing thoughts like express trains, blurring past the local stops leaving a windy wake and the knowledge that a thought had passed through this station without stopping, intent on the same ultimate destination.
Each time I thought of crafting this letter, I would be a few sentences in when I realized I would jump right into the body of the letter and neglect the greeting. I was addressing a letter to an unnamed child, always resulting in an awkward two-sentence false start. Before I could commit to anything more than those two sentences, I went on happy tangential daydreams thinking of names. I think this is exactly what they mean when folks mention "that twinkle in your mother's eye." That twinkle is possibility, and what drives us is giving that possibility a name. It's like putting a lasso around the unknown: "I don't know what my child will look like, but I've got a name for them."
Infertility aside, I have no idea what my child will look like. Even if we could make a baby the old fashioned way, there's no way to predict the way mine and my husband's genetics would combine visually. After our vacation in Japan, I ached for an adorable little Japanese baby with their rubbed-the-wrong-way static electric hair. I am genuinely curious to see what a quarter-Japanese child would look like, rather, wanting to know what my quarter-Japanese baby would look like. Would he have big ears like his daddy? Would she have soft skin like her mommy? In the end, I don't know and for the first time on this crazy ride, I'm okay with not knowing.
Genetically, I've got some real beasts I'd potentially pass down: thyroid problems, obesity, a history of heart disease, diabetes, and cancer in my extended family, not to mention my own infertility issues. How cruel would it be to pass on my infertility to my daughter? It's just not ethical. But my thick dark hair, my rich brown eyes, and my high cheekbones: these are lost. My seemingly petite mouth and almond shaped eyes that can portray a myriad of exaggerated facial expressions at a given moment: those unique faces that are genetically passed down with the same facial muscle structuring ("oh he looks just like his mother when he laughs" or "she has her mommy's smile") - this legacy of visual expression is lost. I grieve for this face that should have been.
I grieve for this now lost moment when I look in my child's face and see myself, really see my genes and my visual characteristics. I grieve knowing that from an evolutionary standpoint, I didn't make the cut. I deeply grieve the loss of a child that is part me, part my husband, from their very fundamental genetic makeup. I grieve for the misplaced miracle in utero, where the very essence of me and my soulmate are joined by cosmic biology, a Darwinian leap of faith.
I hold this image of you tight in my arms: I smell your hair and stroke your cheek and smile back at the smile that looks just like mine. I cradle your face in my hands as you balance on tiptoes to reach up to me. I kiss you on the forehead, and release you like so many cells and dust and stars into the cosmos.
. . .
But you are still out there.
. . .
When your father and I met, we recognized something in one another. I saw a part of myself in him and he in me, that recognition of an old soul long separated into many pieces, as if to say, "Hello, at last. I have found the part of my soul that has been missing all these years." When we found each other, we fit our missing pieces together and found completion.
Or so we thought.
Let's not kid ourselves: we were only fifteen at the time. We had a little growing up to do.
. . .
After a heaping tablespoon of the real world, we could maturely interpret and internalize just what it means to be soulmates. We wanted everyone to know and share in our joy with each other. We wanted to shout it to the rooftops and we did - we were surrounded by our loving family and so many dear friends as we told the world: "Here! Here is my heart, my joy, my breath! I have found the one in whom my soul delights." We danced and danced and danced and as we each clung to a corner of a red napkin, hoisted high on the shoulders of those that love us, we were truly a reconnected old soul, laughing with joy and contentment.
The stars laughed with us that night.
. . .
What I have realized is that you are still out there. You are that little piece that has been missing from our souls and while it might take me a little time to find you, I know you're out there. You may not look the way I thought you would, but I will love and welcome and cherish you just the same. And when your father sees you, he'll remember you too and say smiling, "Hello at last, little one! We've been looking for you. Come, tell us of your travels! We have so much to share with you."
I will look into your eyes and I will recognize you from so long ago, thankful that we've found you after all this time.
. . .
In the clear night sky, the stars hang hopeful.
November 9, 2009
A truly restorative weekend.
The RESOLVE of the Bay State Annual Conference on Saturday was just amazing. I'm so glad Ari and I went - we did some seriously deep soul-searching, some crying (well, I did the crying), and engaged in some very cathartic dialogue with people who get it - who really understand what this crazy world of IF is all about. It was so empowering to feel that we weren't alone, and that in some ways, we were lucky (I never thought I'd use that word in this context) that I was Dx'd so young with POF. Ari and I were easily the youngest couple there; it seemed like the average age was in the mid-30s, but there were a large number of women and couples in their early-40s. There was a pretty large turnout- at least 200 people.
The keynote speaker was Dr. Ali Domar. Her address really resonated with us; she spoke to all of the textbook points about how infertility and stress go hand in hand in a vicious cycle. While I've read this myself, there's something different about a) hearing it from a leading professional in the field and b) seeing nods of validation and experience around the room. It was also reasurring to hear as IF referred to as a crisis, and how for many couples, this is their first major crisis that they've ever had to handle together. Dr. Domar supported her statements with a variety of research studies confirming the link b/t IF and stress and how they each impact each other. One particularly striking study revealed that the levels of depression and stress felt by women coping with IF is matched equally with women who are being treated for cancer. I felt like all of the mental time I've devoted to our situation is not not entirely for naught, in the sense that it's completly normal. It feels all-encompassing b/c it is all-encompassing.
For our first session, we headed to Dr. Domar's more topic focused workshop on the Mind/Body approach to treating IF. Ari and I have both been experiencing increased levels of anxiety and stress recently, and this session really provided some insight on how reigning in the stress could greatly improve our chances later on down the line once we're pursuing IVF. She presented enough compelling research that I'm seriously considering doing one of her 10-week Mind/Body programs in the near future.
Our second session was a panel discussion on Donor Egg v. Adoption. What an eye-opener! I went in very pro DE and Ari very much for adoption. By the end of it, our horizons had been broadened significantly and we've flip-flopped on our stances. For me, adoption is a 100% guarantee of coming home with a child. For Ari, DE is almost half the cost of adoption given the clinical coverage provided by MA insurance companies. It certainly got us talking.
At lunch, we met two other couples, both in their mid-30s. One couple was even from our town, and the wife seemed very on-guard. You could just tell this has been a particularly hard journey; she implied they had already completed several failed procedures. The other couple seemed relatively new to IF as well, and were researching everything about IVF. While it was nice to feel validated, lunch was awkward. In those moments of silence where all of a sudden that pasta I'm eating is just SO interesting, my head was reeling: just what IS the social etiquette of the IF face-to-face community? Is asking about diagnoses rude? Are the number of procedures none of my business? Can I ask how old you are? It was simply fascinating from a sociological/communication standpoint.
After lunch, we skipped out on the next session- we wanted to go to an Adoption Overview: Domestic v. International b/c it was one area I haven't poured tons of research into, so it would be helpful to get more info. We were just so overloaded with information we kind of needed a break. We were also torn over a silent auction item: a full donor agency package- agency fee, escrow services, legal fees (worth about $7500) for a minimum bid of $1500. All the bidder would have to pay would be the donor fee (~$8000). It would cut a DE cycle practically in half, and we thought, we can swing a bid of up to $2K if we had to. We had this very excited conversation about all of the possibilities of DE, but when we went to leave our bid, they had added that the package must be activated within 6 months. We were crushed - we're just not in a place to start anything within a year or more, much less 6 months. It spiraled into a huge conversation about Ari's new business, my present work situation - it got heavy. I felt like the whole day had been ruined.
We were redeemed in our last session, about Dealing with the Outside World. A panel of two support group leaders and a life coach led a guided conversation about coping. One woman spoke about the sense of a loss of control, which I was completely relating to in that moment after the whole silent auction debacle. One panelist recommended about taking a step back, living in the moment and being present, then waiting one month or six months and re-evaluating, but not to let that sense of lost control pull you away from life, from living in the moment.
While I didn't necessarily get the specific gem of info I was looking for, it was so cathartic to simply speak freely within a group who gets it. I got very emotional at one point while speaking, and I caught myself - it's social conformity- and the life coach and several other women were like, "Let yourself cry- it's ok! This is the safe space to do it." Afterward, such relief. While I do like my therapist, I will be seriously investigating support groups after this. Speaking of my therapist, I ran into her at the Conference at the end of the day, and got to introduce her to Ari. I was amused that she said, "It's nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you!" I'm not sure that's something anyone wants to hear from their partner's therapist ^__^
In all, it was a fantastic experience full of valuable information. It's a lot to digest at once, but I think we've come out richer and more knowledgeable on the other side. For the first time in several months, I've come out with a genuine sense of hope.
The keynote speaker was Dr. Ali Domar. Her address really resonated with us; she spoke to all of the textbook points about how infertility and stress go hand in hand in a vicious cycle. While I've read this myself, there's something different about a) hearing it from a leading professional in the field and b) seeing nods of validation and experience around the room. It was also reasurring to hear as IF referred to as a crisis, and how for many couples, this is their first major crisis that they've ever had to handle together. Dr. Domar supported her statements with a variety of research studies confirming the link b/t IF and stress and how they each impact each other. One particularly striking study revealed that the levels of depression and stress felt by women coping with IF is matched equally with women who are being treated for cancer. I felt like all of the mental time I've devoted to our situation is not not entirely for naught, in the sense that it's completly normal. It feels all-encompassing b/c it is all-encompassing.
For our first session, we headed to Dr. Domar's more topic focused workshop on the Mind/Body approach to treating IF. Ari and I have both been experiencing increased levels of anxiety and stress recently, and this session really provided some insight on how reigning in the stress could greatly improve our chances later on down the line once we're pursuing IVF. She presented enough compelling research that I'm seriously considering doing one of her 10-week Mind/Body programs in the near future.
Our second session was a panel discussion on Donor Egg v. Adoption. What an eye-opener! I went in very pro DE and Ari very much for adoption. By the end of it, our horizons had been broadened significantly and we've flip-flopped on our stances. For me, adoption is a 100% guarantee of coming home with a child. For Ari, DE is almost half the cost of adoption given the clinical coverage provided by MA insurance companies. It certainly got us talking.
At lunch, we met two other couples, both in their mid-30s. One couple was even from our town, and the wife seemed very on-guard. You could just tell this has been a particularly hard journey; she implied they had already completed several failed procedures. The other couple seemed relatively new to IF as well, and were researching everything about IVF. While it was nice to feel validated, lunch was awkward. In those moments of silence where all of a sudden that pasta I'm eating is just SO interesting, my head was reeling: just what IS the social etiquette of the IF face-to-face community? Is asking about diagnoses rude? Are the number of procedures none of my business? Can I ask how old you are? It was simply fascinating from a sociological/communication standpoint.
After lunch, we skipped out on the next session- we wanted to go to an Adoption Overview: Domestic v. International b/c it was one area I haven't poured tons of research into, so it would be helpful to get more info. We were just so overloaded with information we kind of needed a break. We were also torn over a silent auction item: a full donor agency package- agency fee, escrow services, legal fees (worth about $7500) for a minimum bid of $1500. All the bidder would have to pay would be the donor fee (~$8000). It would cut a DE cycle practically in half, and we thought, we can swing a bid of up to $2K if we had to. We had this very excited conversation about all of the possibilities of DE, but when we went to leave our bid, they had added that the package must be activated within 6 months. We were crushed - we're just not in a place to start anything within a year or more, much less 6 months. It spiraled into a huge conversation about Ari's new business, my present work situation - it got heavy. I felt like the whole day had been ruined.
We were redeemed in our last session, about Dealing with the Outside World. A panel of two support group leaders and a life coach led a guided conversation about coping. One woman spoke about the sense of a loss of control, which I was completely relating to in that moment after the whole silent auction debacle. One panelist recommended about taking a step back, living in the moment and being present, then waiting one month or six months and re-evaluating, but not to let that sense of lost control pull you away from life, from living in the moment.
While I didn't necessarily get the specific gem of info I was looking for, it was so cathartic to simply speak freely within a group who gets it. I got very emotional at one point while speaking, and I caught myself - it's social conformity- and the life coach and several other women were like, "Let yourself cry- it's ok! This is the safe space to do it." Afterward, such relief. While I do like my therapist, I will be seriously investigating support groups after this. Speaking of my therapist, I ran into her at the Conference at the end of the day, and got to introduce her to Ari. I was amused that she said, "It's nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you!" I'm not sure that's something anyone wants to hear from their partner's therapist ^__^
In all, it was a fantastic experience full of valuable information. It's a lot to digest at once, but I think we've come out richer and more knowledgeable on the other side. For the first time in several months, I've come out with a genuine sense of hope.
November 5, 2009
Yes, I'm still here
I've just been trying to regain steam to post- I don't want to let this journal fall to the wayside (like I've basically let my personal LJ just kind of putter around for the last 3 years). Anywho... here's what's new in life:
2 weeks ago: Japan was amazing. 2 weeks, 7 cities, 1,300 pictures.
Yesterday: b/w for thyroid panel.
Saturday: RESOLVE Bay State Chapter Conference . Actually really looking forward to it.
Monday: Appt w/Dr. G. to go over b/w results. Here's hoping the 100mcg is doing it, but I'm not so sure with a week of jet lag and daylight savings time.
Tuesday: Appt w/Dr. S. to talk about all the crap that's been rattling around in my head since we got back from Japan. Also, a good chance to process some of the things Ari and I will have encountered this weekend at the conference. I'm finding that therapy has been quite helpful... it's nice to talk to a third party who understands, but isn't my husband or someone connected to me. I'm still working up the nerve to write that letter to the child of my genes that I won't have. I've got a good opener in my head, but not much else beyond that.
Ongoing: The unemployment checks have run out, but Ari just started his own business, so we're navigating the land of the small business owner right now. Much of my time has been spent working on his website. I've always had a good eye for design - it's just a challenge when I'm using 2 programs I've never worked with before and I'm basically teaching myself the platforms as I go along (iWeb and WordPress).
2 weeks ago: Japan was amazing. 2 weeks, 7 cities, 1,300 pictures.
Yesterday: b/w for thyroid panel.
Saturday: RESOLVE Bay State Chapter Conference . Actually really looking forward to it.
Monday: Appt w/Dr. G. to go over b/w results. Here's hoping the 100mcg is doing it, but I'm not so sure with a week of jet lag and daylight savings time.
Tuesday: Appt w/Dr. S. to talk about all the crap that's been rattling around in my head since we got back from Japan. Also, a good chance to process some of the things Ari and I will have encountered this weekend at the conference. I'm finding that therapy has been quite helpful... it's nice to talk to a third party who understands, but isn't my husband or someone connected to me. I'm still working up the nerve to write that letter to the child of my genes that I won't have. I've got a good opener in my head, but not much else beyond that.
Ongoing: The unemployment checks have run out, but Ari just started his own business, so we're navigating the land of the small business owner right now. Much of my time has been spent working on his website. I've always had a good eye for design - it's just a challenge when I'm using 2 programs I've never worked with before and I'm basically teaching myself the platforms as I go along (iWeb and WordPress).
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