Our Autumn Vacation

Larry and I have been having a wonderful Thanksgiving break so far. Dinner at my in-laws, and spent lots of quality time with my sister, brother-in-law, and my five-month-old niece as well as my parents. I wasn't expecting to be somewhat emotionally sidelined by the holiday - there are plenty of holiday survival guides out there for IF folks, but I glossed over them this year, considering myself a bastion of healing and grace.

Ha! We're all human, and emotions can come out of nowhere. But today I'm fine. It was a momentary wave of "being infertile sucks woe is me" and then by the time there was turkey in my belly it was gone. I'm taking this as a good sign that it gets easier.

. . .

In these last few weeks of fall, Larry and I decided that we needed a vacation. We're heading to Grand Cayman and Cozumel tomorrow via Norwegian Dawn of the Seas!

I'm on a boat! Or rather, soon will be.

We honeymooned on a cruise for 3 days (the other 4 days were at Disney World) so we're looking forward to this 5-day cruise to the Western Caribbean. Apparently, it's snowing or has already snowed in Massachusetts (we're still in NJ visiting with family) and so it just makes sitting on a beach chair in 80° weather that much more exciting. 


We're planning to drive through the Mexican jungle on ATVs, scoping out some Mayan ruins along the way. That's our big adventure shore excursion splurge; the rest of the time will be spent on the beach, by the pool, or at the buffet :) I'm fully prepared to be carted off the boat via wheelbarrow with how much food I plan to eat. (Self control? What's that? I can't hear you over the sound of all the buffet food I'm shoveling in my mouth.)


I can still remember when two and half years ago, I stood waist deep in the ocean and able to see all the way to my toes, the water was so clear. I can't wait to repeat the experience! Even though we love adventure packed, sight seeing, experiential traveling, Larry and I can be total beach bums when we want. Sometimes you really do just need to relax instead of constantly donning the explorer's cap.


Maybe if we just "relax"on this vacation, we'll come home with a vacation baby... ha! I'm looking forward to this cruise even more than our honeymoon actually - less children (we were on Disney Cruise Lines last time), a casino, more gourmet places to eat on the ship... it's going to be a great time!


That being said, since we're leaving at ass-crack-of-dawn o'clock tomorrow morning, I'll have my last 2 NaBloPoMo posts pre-scheduled and ready to go. Because the internet also costs an exorbitant amount of money per use on the ship and using our cell phones overseas would also bankrupt us, that means a little radio silence here for the first few days of December.


Since I'll be missing the first night of Hanukkah here on the blogosphere, Happy Early Hanukkah! (We're totally bringing a menorah on the cruise.)


Tonight's my Anti-Reunion... wish me luck! And stay tuned for the answers to my Open Interview post tomorrow, and one last wrap up for NaBloPoMo on Monday. Anchors away folks and I'll see y'all in December!

10 Years Ago This Week

While I'm "celebrating" my 10 year high school reunion this weekend, I also have another anniversary this week. Ten years ago, I had my left ovary removed in emergency surgery. While I have no way of proving that this has caused my infertility, I do feel like its removal did spark a chain reaction over the next ten years that has brought me to this point.

I always get a little nervous this time of year. Thanksgiving is by far one of my favorite holidays (next to Passover, which may as well be Jewish Thanksgiving) and so I've always been conflicted as the holiday approaches. I love me some dry turkey and cranberry wine, but I'm always reminded of the tiny scars on my belly: 2 half-inch incisions just at the waistband line of my underwear, one on the right, one on the left, and a singular tiny scar inside my belly button. Even 10 years later, I'm still amazed that both an internal organ and a tumor was removed somehow via these tiny exit points.

I don't remember that particular Thanksgiving, but I remember the day after. I had gone out to lunch with my group of girlfriends from high school: we had just survived the first half of our first college semester and we were eager to see each other. I went to Chili's and got queso dip. It was delicious but I had wicked indigestion afterward. That evening I went bowling with Larry (then boyfriend), and my sister and my brother-in-law (then fiance). I bowled an 11. Larry was wearing this blue sweater reminiscent of Dr. Huxtable. I hated that sweater. I remember having pretty bad stomach cramps by the end of the night and generally feeling like poo. The severe pain started sometime in the middle of the night, followed by fever and chills. I went to the ER. They told me I was having severe menstrual cramps, gave me morphine and sent me home.

When the morphine wore off, I blacked out from the pain. And when I woke up, I did nothing but scream in my bed. I begged my mom to make the pain stop.

My dad was out of the country at the time and my mom was frantic. She called Larry's mom, a nurse. I made a second trip to the ER that Sunday. I remember being taken by stretcher out of our house because I couldn't walk. The EMT's name who held my hand during the ride was named Kathy. I'll never forget asking her name and thanking her through the tears. "I'm just doing my job," she told me.

I remember having to use a bedpan at some point in front of both my mom and my future mother-in-law, and being so embarrassed. They gave me Phenergan and I slept and slept and slept. Somehow I was at my GYN's office, seeing a doctor I don't normally see. "Exploratory surgery, with possible removal of the ovary" I overheard. More sleeping. It was nighttime now and I was being wheeled down a hospital corridor. Larry was there and wearing that ugly blue sweater again (hadn't you already gone back to college?) and told me he loved me before we were separated by swinging doors. Everything got fuzzy, muffled, quiet, dark and then:

Beeping. The sounds of oxygen machines. My neck and shoulders hurt like hell and my mouth is parched, my lips cracked and chapped. The room is blue and the lights are too bright. There's an old man groaning in the bed next to me. I can't move. I try to speak but only choke on my words, my tongue swollen and dry. I feel like there is a blur of nurses around me, all ignoring me. Somehow I manage to croak out the word, "help." Someone responds. "Where am I? What happened?"

"You're in the hospital. You're in surgical recovery. We're going to take you to your room in about 20 minutes."

"Can I have some water? My throat hurts."

"That's from the breathing tube. You can't have water, only ice chips."

"Can I have some pain medication? My neck feels like it's on fire."

"That's from the gas from your surgery. It'll go away over time. We'll get you some meds before we take you to your room." And as promised, the meds made their way into my veins via my IV. More sleep.

I woke up later, my bed flanked by my mom, Larry, my sister, Larry's mom, and the surgeon. I was in my room. My blond-haired doctor informed me that the surgery was a success. "We found a tumor the size of a small orange," she said. "I can't believe you waited this long to be seen; I can't imagine the pain you must have felt as it killed your ovary. You were extremely lucky. Any longer and your ovary would have gone septic."

In my semi-coherent state, I managed to ask, "Will I still be able to have children?"

My doctor smiled. "Of course."

. . .

Physically, I healed just fine. The tumor was biopsied just in case and it was simply a large ovarian cyst that had torqued around my ovary and killed it. (Just FYI... don't ever Google Image Search ovarian torsion. For reals.) I took a medical leave for a few weeks to recover and completed what assignments I could at home. Over time, the emotional toll began to show. I felt broken. Even though my fertility was assured, I still struggled with knowing I had only one ovary. I worried all the time, even though children were far from a priority at that point in my life.

That's why I found participating in The Vagina Monologues so healing in college. I became empowered about my body, about my lady parts, and found myself acutely tuned to my body's workings. I started paying more attention to the signs my body was telling me. It was that close attention that finally brought me into the doctor's office last year. It was that empowerment that allowed me to stand up for myself: this is not stress. Something is wrong.

And all because of some bad queso dip. Well... maybe not. But I didn't eat queso dip for quite some time following (the way I didn't eat spaghetti for years as it was the last thing I ate before my appendix was removed).

I can't believe this was 10 years ago. I've healed in many ways from this one event, but there's more healing yet to be found as I cope with this latest reproductive adventure.

The Infertile's Manifesto

Infertility is... so many, many things, I have learned.

Thank you for such beautiful, moving, thought-provoking responses to yesterday's post, Fill in the Blank. Mum's still the word on where this is headed, but I was so moved last night as I read through all of the responses. Your answers reflect so many stages of the infertility journey: the anguish, the bitterness, the exhaustion.

I was moved and gave pause for the weariness in your words:

"Draining, crushing, the hardest thing I have ever had to go through, hell, suffocating, bullshit, a raw deal, soul sucking, overwhelming, depressing, devastating, a disease that changed my life and perspective forever..."

What stood out for me the most - to be honest, surprised me the most - where the attributions of hope. For all of the pain in these responses, there is hope and even joy to be found. I was so inspired by the subtext of your fighters' spirit throughout the responses. You've written your own manifesto of hope, strength, perserverance.


---

The Infertile's Manifesto

Infertility is the most devastating natural disaster you'll ever survive.

Infertility is something that is not going to break me.

Infertility is a journey that makes me stronger.

Infertility is not going to get the best of me.

Infertility is not defining me.

Infertility is not the winner.

Infertility is not our fault.

Infertility is not all I am.

Infertility is not the end.

---

I have to say, it is very humbling and deeply moving to put something like this out there and receive such raw emotion back, because what I have learned is that through it all, there is hope. And even if you don't feel hopeful today, it's still there. It's still just as much a part of our journeys. And when you don't feel hopeful, you're always welcome to come back to the Fill in the Blank list and say so: be angry, be dark, and rage against the cruelty of this indiscriminate beast.

And when you do need a moment of hope, then come back to this list, to the Infertile's Manifesto. Listen the echoes of our hearts. Feel this pulse of hope that beats steadily as we walk this path.

. . .

I realized I have yet to answer my own fill in the blank. So here goes.

Infertility is...

...what has brought me to each of you.

It has allowed me to make deep connections spanning continents, cables, and experiences. It has been a catalyst: I have become a different person, and it's up to me to be happy with myself, to be comfortable in my own skin, to forge a new path for myself and imagine a new story as we build our family. It has been a defining moment, but does not define me.

For all of the pain, the heartbreak, the stress, the fear: I'd never take it back. I'd never wish this on my worst enemy- but I'd never take it back.

Thank you for giving me such hope.

A second opinion on everything, really.

Doc Awesome: Artist's rendition.

My second opinion appointment went really well yesterday. The staff at the clinic were very professional and rather friendly. I tweeted from the office that the patients sitting in the waiting room, however, looked a bit somber, but I can't blame them. It just made the contrast between the friendliness of the staff that much more apparent.

Dr. "I have an incredibly awesome/sexy South African accent" who I suppose I should just shorten to Doc Awesome was equally as warm and friendly. (I would've called him Dr. Sexy, but that's reserved for our vet: a post for another day.) I came armed with my list of a dozen questions and a folder full of test results. What astounded me was that I didn't have to sit and give my schpiel (menarch at 9, PCOS Dx at 18, ovary out the same year, thyroid problems at 20, POF/Hashi's at 26 blah blah blah)... he had actually read my file prior to my appointment and was able to give me my own summary back to me.

I find this astounding because with Dr. G, I could count on at least 20 minutes of repeat dialogue at every appointment, including having to go through my medical history at nearly every other appointment. Egads, a doctor that does his homework?? What is the world coming to?

Doc Awesome let me ask my myriad questions and many of the answers were ones that I had expected. Based on my various hormonal tests throughout the last year, it's POF. And like any POF-er, it's entirely possible to experience spontaneous ovarian function and even become pregnant, but that occurs in about 1% or less of the POF population. Bummer.

That being said, Doc Awesome said I'm a fantastic candidate for donor egg, and that POF-er's in general usually are great candidates for DE/IVF. Doc Awesome also oversees all of the donor cycles at this clinic, so I'm in capable hands. They run pretty aggressive treatments for donors and say they get as many as 20 eggs in one shot. Their success rates are also well into the 50-60% range with DE. I asked if my Hashi's could play in a role in the success of DE/IVF and he said that so long as it's maintained, it's a non-issue.

As far at the actual cycle itself, once we pick a donor and she is screened (and the screening process at this clinic is intimidating bordering on absurd- his words, not mine), I'd stop taking my birth control pills and switch to estrogen only. Meanwhile, she'd go on a stim protocol and trigger. The day of retrieval, Larry obviously has to do his thing in a cup, I'll add progesterone gel (sounds goo-tastic!), and the eggs are retrieved from the donor. Depending on how Larry's army looks, we'll either let them do the rumba in the petri dish or directly inject his sperm into the egg via ICSI. About 4 days later, I would come in for a 10 minute procedure to insert either 1 or 2 embryos into my lady parts... and then, voila, the 2ww. Should I choose, I can also add an hour of acupuncture/pressure before and about 45 minutes of the same after the transfer. All told, apart from the actual transfer and using donor gametes, it's par-for-par hormonally and experientially as any other woman experiencing pregnancy.

I mean, I wouldn't even get the giganto box o' needles from the fertility pharmacy. I could avoid needles.

This is huge for me folks. Huge.

All told, we're looking at about $15-17K when you factor in donor agency fees, donor fees, legal feels, and donor screening. (It seems silly that insurance wouldn't cover donor screening, since they are medical procedures, but apparently it's the one medical part of the process they don't cover, which can run anywhere from $2-4K.)

I'm not going to lie: this is WAY cheaper and potentially faster than adoption. And given my age, my other relative health, there's a good chance of this working on the first shot. I know DE/IVF is no guarantee, but even Larry brought up the point: if it didn't work, we would potentially still have other embryos on ice to work with again, given the aggressive retrieval protocol they run on donors.

And you know what? I do want to experience pregnancy and birth. I have resolved that I'll still be just as much of a woman and mother if I don't, but the pregnancy experience is still important to me after all. There's also a good bit of halachic vaguery about the Jewish status of a child born via donor egg, so believe it or not, according to Jewish law, donor egg is easier to navigate that adoption. I wouldn't necessarily need a Jewish donor if pursuing DE/IVF, but absolutely would need a Jewish birthmother if pursuing adoption, domestic or international.

After talking the appointment through with Larry yesterday, I think we're changing our minds... again. Once we save up the money, we're going to go for DE/IVF. I don't think adoption is off the table for us completely, but just not as our first shot.


In sum: Doc Awesome is pretty awesome. (He even complimented me for coming in armed with all of my info noting that I was "a lot more researched than the average patient, which is a great thing.") And when we're ready to go for donor egg... we'll be going with him. I feel really confident in his ability and he has a wonderful candor and sense of professionalism.

So yeah, there you have it. Donor egg is back on the table... and I'm really excited about it. The timeline all depends on how quickly we can hide away the cash, but I think we could probably do this by the end of next year.

I suppose I should start working on a new blog header image this weekend!

Infertility's ethical dilemma.

Tomorrow I have my second opinion appointment. I've filled out all of my pre-appointment paperwork. Larry has filled out all of his pre-appointment paperwork. I have a 1-inch thick file of all of my bloodwork results in the last year and a half, and two handy Excel spreadsheets summarizing my thryoid workups and female hormonal workups. I am ready to go. And well... I'm a little nervous.

Anytime I open myself up to more diagnostics, more testing, I always worry that I'm opening myeslf up for something worse. What if it was never POF all along and instead it was... pancakes? Or dumptrucks? Or... *gasp* Sunday coupons?! (I'm replacing all of the other horrible things a gal could be diagnosed with less severe things as I'm superstitious to ever name actual horrible conditions, like, if I write it here, I'm jinxing myself).

I'm 99% sure I'm going to receive the same diagnosis of POF; my FSH hasn't really dipped below 50 and was at its highest, around 67 I think. I'm not so much looking for a second opinion on the diagnosis as I'm looking for a) a more competent doctor, because as I talked to many folks at the conference this weekend, Dr. G is bad news and b) the slim chance that maybe, just maybe, we could build our family without the use of donor eggs or heading straight to adoption.

Which lead's me to infertility's ethical dilemma... what if I pass on my infertility to my children?

Here's the thing: if I were to do IVF with my own eggs (which, as far as I know based on one opinion, this isn't possible), it would probably save us anywhere from $5-$7K out of pocket (potentially more with agency fees on top of that). I'm lucky because my insurance would cover all my medical costs as well as the donor's medical costs, but I'd still have to pay for all the donor compensation for her time and travel, essentially, the donor fees. Also, insurance (of course) will not pay for legal fees as donor egg use requires the use of a laywer to negotiate the legality of the future child, as in, who's child is this legally. So if I were to use my own eggs, I wouldn't have to worry about paying for anything out of pocket other than office visit and prescription co-pays.

Not only would using my own eggs be cheaper, but I'd get to live that dream of making a baby that's party me, part my husband. But if I do use my own eggs, I could very well pass down my infertility to my potential children.

Would my future child resent me for it later if and when they try to conceive and they ran into issues? I realize that I don't resent my parents for giving me a predisposition for diabetes and heart disease, but if I knew that my parents had a choice in the matter... well, I don't know then. I mean, I'd rather be the person that I am, future potential medical issues or not, rather than not existing at all (as who I am genetically) because my parents used donor gametes. Maybe I'd be able to have a closer relationship with my child, instead of them pushing me away, because Mom and Dad would understand, and we'd be able to share resources with them.

And it's all a gamble anyway... what if we used donor gametes and our future child still had infertility issues later in life? What then?

What if, what if, what if... it's so easy to start formulating endless possibilities and scenarios, like a flowchart of doom branching menacingly into the future. But this is a valid question with which I really struggle: what if I gave this G-d awful, terrible, heartbreaking, tragic disease to my own child?

All just for the sake of being able to say that this child is half-Keiko and half-Larry?

Is it worth it?

. . .

I know there's no answer to that question, and I don't know if any of us could answer that question. But I have to be honest: it doesn't feel rhetorical.

And it doesn't feel ethical. But I suppose, barring genetic testing and selective reduction, there's not a whole lot I can do. And even those options feel icky and just not the best decisions either.

This is infertility's evil Catch-22.

. . .

And this is all on the assumption that I could ever conceive a child with my own eggs. The odds are stacked against me, no matter what doctor I see. So it's all just a waiting game: arming myself with a long list of questions for the doctor tomorrow, and hoping to finally get some encouraging news for once in this journey.

RESOLVE of New England Annual Conference Live Blog!

I'm blogging live today from the RESOLVE of New England Annual Conference in Marlborough, MA. Stay tuned for updates throughout the day - make sure to hit F5/Refresh! Newest updates at the top of this post.

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5:15pm - Alrighty, we're out. Full recap post tomorrow. Thanks for following along for this live blog!

5:08pm - Wow. What a day. Just waiting for Larry to come back with his Room Monitor Sheet from the For Men Only Ask the Expert Session.

4:27pm - Helping to tally up the Room Monitor sheets... so far, the morning sessions were really well attended! Great to see folks dropping off evals on their way out, but I hope folks are heading to the Ask the Experts sessions! It's nice to sit at the main table and answer questions for folks. Also? If I haven't mentioned this already? Everyone is super friendly- presenters, exhibitors, volunteers, and attendees. A very safe space indeed for folks at every stage of their journey. Hm, probably should have mentioned that at the beginning of the day :)

4:00pm - Talking about known donors: there's not a lot written about it right now, and that's an indicator of how well they work. All in all, this is a really great session. Have to scoot... I'm working as the Room Monitor Captain for the Ask the Experts Panels at 4:20pm!

3:53pm - Amazing analogy that cracked up the group re: explaining conception to young children -  Conception equals three ingredients: ovum, sperm, uterus. PB&J sandwiches equals three ingredients: PB, J, and bread. If you're out of PB, you don't replace it with mustard because it's the same color. So, kids as young as 4 and 5 can begin to understand the basics of using donor gametes in their conception. Fair enough. Now I want a PB&J sandwich.

3:50pm - Nancy raises an excellent point about revealing donor gamete status. We must ask ourselves: "This is my child's information. If I share this information with others, will it help or hurt my child?" Ultimately, it all comes back to your child.

3:48pm - Members of the audience agree: sharing your stories with others is a good thing. The panelists talk about creating A and B teams - who are the people who can truly support you, and you might find that one person can shift from A to B, based on life circumstances. Your best girlfriend who is your strongest A team member becomes pregnant, and now you can't relate on the same way. She moves to the B team, but she's still your support, just in a more removed way. It's nice to hear other people share that when they've opened up to others they've gotten a flood of support.

3:41pm - Best statement of the conference, from the male panelist: "There's a lot of ways you can cope, but the one thing you learn through these opportunities is, you are not alone." Good lord is that true. That folks, is why I'm blogging and advocating and volunteering. We are not alone.

3:34pm - Lynn: The whole process feels very overwhelming at the start and you're just freshmen now, but you'll be sophomores soon. It'll all make sense soon. The first panelist makes a great counterpoint: it's okay if you're not able to get to that stage, or not able to be comfortable about going to that next step. Refreshing viewpoint!

3:28pm - Nancy: "Parenting is really flying by the seat of your pants." Totally rings of Melissa's keynote speech from this morning about "Just wing it."

3:22pm - Amazing statement from the previous panelist's husband: after 2 failed IVFs, they looked at their doctor and asked, "Why should we do this?" Their doctor's response: "Because one of those eggs could be your baby." And one of those eggs became their daughter. He also spoke beautifully about how much he wanted to see his wife pregnant, to spoon in the middle of the night, feel that big round belly and feel the baby move. "There's nothing like that in the world." First of all, totally never expected to hear this from a guy, so well said. Secondly - wow. Just... wow. It's so relieving to hear someone else express the desire to be a part of that pregnancy experience, as either mother or father. Just beautiful and really moving - lots of sniffles behind me in the audience.

3:13pm - Another panelist shares the very painful recollection of when her RE told her that she was not a candidate for IVF because of her age, despite being otherwise healthy. "It was a long process to try to work through that." She discusses weighing adoption vs. egg donation and went through the loss. Ultimately, the decision for egg donor won because experiencing the pregnancy was important to she and her husband, as well as having control over the health of the child as opposed to the lack of control over maternal health via adoption. Man, this is really stirring up some emotions for me. I hate the idea of feeling selfish for wanting to experience pregnancy.

3:08pm - Awesome comment from one of the parent panelists: when she was telling her 11 year old son that she was speaking at the conference today about donor egg and donor sperm, he told her: "You should bring me in as an example, mom!"

3:05pm - Nancy Docktor and Lynn Nichols, both consultants (private practice and BostonIVF respectively) open things up with our panel of parents who have been through donor gametes.

2:59pm - Waiting for Donor Egg & Donor Sperm: Asking the Tough Questions to begin. Interestingly enough, after talking with Larry today... if we had the chance to conceive with my eggs, we'd go for it. This opens up an interesting can of worms for later, but I'll get into that in a separate post.

2:02pm - Taking a break from the sessions to check out the exhibitors. Lots of candy to give away, as well as neat swag (props to Harvard Vanguard for the pillbox keychain!) and of course, tons of great information. Also great to see Joanne from Circle+Bloom. And I had a wonderful conversation with Davina - apparently she LOVES her doc... who just happens to be the person I'm seeing next week for my second opinion. Very comforting to talk with her about her experience, as I'm nervous about the possibilities.

1:07pm - So... I just got a Volunteer Award. Um, seriously not expecting this and TOTALLY flattered and humbled. Thanks RNE ladies! Y'all rock! (And props to Lee Collins, Terri Davidson, Amy Demma, and Sandy O'Keefe for their Volunteer Awards as well!)

12:57pm - RNE Board Member and Advocacy Director Davina Fankhauser is giving out RNE's Advocacy Awards to our corporate sponsors who helped to get the Infertility Mandate updated in MA. Recipients (in alpha order): BostonIVF, Brigham & Women's, Mass General Hospital, Reproductive Science Center (and specifically Dr. Samuel Peng), and Village Pharmacy. Davina has also announced a celebration of Family Building legislation at the MA State House on Wednesday, Dec. 15th from 2-3pm.

12:15pm - Really informative session. Learned a lot about the legality and the ways in which embryo donation programs vary throughout the country. Now, time for lunch! My tummy is a rumblin'.

11:58am - Susan: Virtually all states have statutes regarding sperm donation: children created through donor sperm are the children of the recipient couple. 9 states have statutes expanding this to include both egg and embryo donation. Sadly, MA is not one of these states. Only GA and FL have laws with specific terminology regarding embryo adoption. She recommends a "belt and suspenders" approach just to make sure that your family is protected by the law, and that means approaching a judge in those 41 other states and going through the procedure to adopt your own child. An almost absurd approach, but it's the safest and broadest protection to the legality of your family and ultimately, it's a bunch of paperwork more than it is from the traditional adoption approach.

11:49am - Amy: While it's legally complex, the legality should not be a deterrent if embryo donation is the right path to family building for you. Susan: Even with known donors, get a contract. Sometimes this can even be a screening tool if someone you know isn't willing to do a contract, this might send out a red flag for the eventual legality of your future family.

11:45am - Susan: Many couples who do IVF are willing to check off the "donate my leftover embryos" prior to achieving parenthood but often change their mind after the fact when they realize that there is the potential for their children to have genetically-related siblings out there in the world. A great discussion going on about consent.

11:40am - An overview of the process: 1) Find embryos. 2) Get them screened (look up IVF records, have donors and recipients screened). 3) Homestudy - are you suitable recipients per the standards of the donation agency? And those standards vary greatly across the map. 4) Medical protocol for the transfer itself. From a mental health professional in the audience: how much does the recipient family get to know about the donor? It varies from program to program. All of the donations that Amy has been a part of have been known. The point is raised that the mental health issues that face adoptive parents are nearly the same for embryo donation recipients.

11:33am - To the African-American woman earlier: don't be discouraged as there ARE options- there are donors and embryos to be found, but just requires some digging. Amy has some great resources to refer to her.

11:28am - Just learned about PGD (Pre-implantation genetic diagnosis). Mind. BLOWN. You can take 1 cell from an 8-cell embryo and run it through hundreds of genetic tests and then you can STILL grow a healthy embryo from the remaining 7 cells. WHUT.

11:25am - Interesting screening issue: donor couple needs to be screened, but if the embryo was conceived using donor gametes, then those donors need to be screened. This of course, varies by clinic, but an important point to consider.

11:21am - "The first place you should start looking for embryo donation programs is with your own clinic." - Amy Demma. The list she started with just two years ago has grown extensively. A large portion of programs have been faith-based, but they have been expanding, as Amy's noted in a really fantastic handout packet.

11:13am - Important distinction: embryo donation is the proper term as legally, embryo "adoption" means that you don't have legal ownership of the child you've carried for 9 months until 4 days after its born (in MA, at least). A small distinction, but a legally important one. Terminology, as I've been learning in our IF journey, is vitally important. Other key definition: embryo donation is a frozen egg that has been fertilized. From a personal perspective, it's where adoption and donor egg/sperm meet. Neat.

11:07am - Survey of the room: some MA couples, 2 folks from NY, and 1 couple from NH. Important to know since laws vary from state to state. Speakers are lawyers Susan Cocklin and Amy Demma, both area lawyers specializing in infertility law.

10:57am - Waiting for the Embryo Donation session to start. Looking forward to getting some more information about a subject about which I don't really have much knowledge. Interesting side-conversation overhead: an African-American woman expresses concerns that her clinic does have embryo donation, but no African-American embryos. A point I would have never considered; even though I'm half-Japanese, I have the luxury of being able to "pass" as "white." That's why ladies like Broken Brown Egg are a vital voice in this community: the African-American perspective on infertility is often forgotten about. Whoa, got off topic here. More updates soon with the latest info re: embryo donation.


10:34am - See! I met Melissa. Here's photographic evidence :) Also, what a great conversation - everything from blogging and book writing to "the ribbon cross lady on the plane." Oh, I do hope she blogs about her b/c that was a hysterical story. Time to head off to the volunteer table - first volunteer assignment of the day coming up: being room monitor for the Embryo Donation session.

10:04am - Chatting with Melissa Ford. She is one cool lady! Discussing the virtues of self-hosting my blog.

9:07am - My husband just called me the "Infertility Engadget" with this liveblog. I'm touched and flattered. Also, the conference Twitter hashtag is #RNE10.

9:04am - Q: Is there a clearinghouse of correct information? A: Go with your gut. Case in point? The multiple times Melissa has received advice to rub yam cream on herself. Yam cream?! Wow. She also addresses the Robutussin lore: may not be scientifically backed up, but we hear about it everywhere. Ultimately? Take it back to your doctor.

8:59am - Exciting! We're opening up for question & answers. Q: Are their blogs for men? Sure ARE! (Looking for them? You can check out some of them here under "The Elusive Male Point of View."). Oh, PS? We need more male voices out there.

Q: "Can you blog anonymously?" A: Absolutely - and if you do choose to reveal your identity, great advice - don't name your doctor, don't name your clinic. (Note to self: I'm going to go back and delete some stuff.) Referencing the Justin Long fiasco. You can also "come out" on your own terms, and when you're ready.

8:54am - "Go online and find your virtual tribe." Great point about the ways in which we seek support. "Go home and start a blog." Wow, so true - that's exactly how I got started, and I know so many of you did too! Shoutout for the ALI Blogroll. "And while support won't cure infertility, it will give you refuge."

8:53am - "The only way out of infertility is through infertility."

8:52am - Best advice for life, received from her dear friend Carla when Melissa forgot the notes to her first book reading: "Just wing it." Life doesn't always go according to plan, and that pausing from life isn't an option. Don't stop living - we can't let infertility take away from living our lives. "Just wing it" is the anti-"just relax."

8:48am - "When the losses are that small that they can be hidden, what right do I have to mourn deeply?" Melissa reflects about the loss of Politics and Prose owner, Carla Cohen and ties it back to the journey of infertility. How do you share a silent experience with others?

8:45am - "Infertility: the news never comes at a good time." Um, truth sister. Sing it, Melissa!

8:41am - Lots of conference raffles... exciting! Also, here comes keynote speaker, Melissa Ford!

8:32am - Been here for a few minutes now, finally connected to the hotel WiFi AND I just met the Stirrup Queen herself, Melissa Ford! Exciting. Also, as far as I've heard - we're officially over the number of pre-registered attendees from last year... final numbers at the end of the day once we figure in walk-in attendees. Considering purchasing a 2nd copy of her book for her to sign since we still haven't unpacked our (21) boxes of books yet. Oops. Ahah, here come Rebecca Lubens, Executive Director of RESOLVE of New England and Melissa Ford... and here we go!

6:46am - And we're off! On the road to the Conference. Hope to arrive just past 8am.

I'll have seconds, please.

Photo by Jason Rogers via Flickr.

I did it.

I just emailed one of the area clinics for a second opinion consultation from the doctor recommended to me by Dr. Ali Domar at Night of Hope.

No appointment set up yet, but I did it. I took that first step. This first step I had been dreading, but a step that is needed. The step that I sobbed about to Larry last night.

"What if they find something else? What if there's something REALLY wrong, even worse than POF? It would be just my luck!" (It's true - I've never had it easy when it comes to diagnostics; I always tend to fall on the edges of the normal spectrum when it comes to anything medically-related to my health.)

I worry that every time I open myself up to these kind of tests and consults, I run the risk of getting yet another devastating diagnosis.

Larry assures me they aren't going to find anything.

"I know IVF is cheaper than adoption but I don't know if I'm strong enough to do IVF. Everyone wants me to do IVF."

Larry said it simply: "If you don't want to do it, we don't have to do it. We'll do what's right for us, not what anyone else thinks or wants."

I'm getting this second opinion despite how terrifying this is to me. And I'm getting it because I was inspired by The Infertility Therapist, ironically enough from a post about knowing when to stop fertility treatment:

"...We should try whenever possible to anticipate what our future selves will think about our decisions, in order to minimize future regrets."

I don't want to regret having never gotten that second opinion, having never moved beyond Dr. G (of whom I've had doubts for some time now anyway), having never given myself the chance.

I'm not saying I'm ready for IVF. But I'm ready to at least make sure that the options that were given to me a year ago still hold true. I'm ready to make sure we're making the most informed choice we can.

"You should write a book."

Photo by Erik Stabile via Flickr.

I get this a lot. I'm not a person who handles compliments very well and despite what you may read here, I can be almost painfully shy sometimes.

But a lot of folks read my blog and go: "Keiko, you should really write a book."

Okay... sure!

So... how the hell do I DO that? I don't think I'll have any trouble actually writing a book, but it's the publishing process that intimidates me the most. I am basically clueless. I've read Mel's awesome DIY MFA book publishing series. It's a little overwhelming - I'm not going to lie. And since I want to write non-fic, apparently I only write part of it and then query it to publishers who tell me how to finish it, I suppose. It's a little confusing. And then there's that whole agent thing. Oh, and having some credibility by being published somewhere other than you own blog, and even better, getting paid for it.

I guess I'm just overwhelmed by all of this. There are so many fine bloggers turned authors out there: Melissa (Navigating the Land of IF), Pamela (Silent Sorority), Lu (Inadequate Conception - being released soon), and many others I'm sure I'm forgetting here. I certainly don't want to imply that they had an easier time of writing their books and getting them published simply because they are also bloggers. I'm sure it's entirely possible for me to do the same, and just as challenging. It will continue to get more challenging as more IF bloggers turned published authors begin to crowd out the market.

It's the enormity of the task that keeps me from moving forward. Sometimes it's just easier to walk away from the opportunity entirely that to take a risk and fail. I know myself. I'm a classic INFP - this is how we work.

NaNoWriMo is coming up: a month-long challenge to write a 50,000 word novel. I'm half wondering if I should participate if only to get my ass in gear. NaNoWriMo is specifically for fiction, but as every keeps saying I should write a book, maybe I'll sign up, write my non-fic book on infertility, conversion, food, or whatever - and just not submit it for verification.

Sometimes I doubt myself (shocker) and wonder if it's valid to write something when our story is presently unfinished. The more confident part of me says to write all the raw emotional stuff now and worry about the ending when the time comes. "You won't have time to write the whole damn thing once you're chasing kid(s) around the house!" my always Rational Brain reminds me.

So yeah, I need to write a book. I've got plenty of words in my head that need a home on some page, somewhere. I think I will sign up for NaNoWriMo. And hell, maybe I'll even dabble in writing some fiction. Anyone else out there participating in NaNoWriMo? I need motivation. I need someone to stay on my ass.

Kind of like Stewie helps out his good friend, Brian:

When Foodie Met Iffy

As I have mentioned on many occasion, I have a thing for Anthony Bourdain. Larry is fully aware that I would leave him for Anthony Bourdain, should the opportunity present itself. It's strange: I'm not really an "older man" kind of gal, but there's a hipness, a realness, a damn fine sexiness about the man.

I'm sorry, I need to mop up this puddle of drool down the front of my shirt.

Now that I'm commuting to work, I've got nearly two hours in my day of uninterrupted me time. Since checking my email or reading the internet while driving is generally frowned upon (in fact, now recently illegal in MA), I could get back into my habit of listening to NPR in the mornings. Instead, I'm taking the audiobook route. I just finished The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. I know, late to the game on that whole series. (Sidebar: it's incredible - a slowly building, unsettling climax that makes your jaw drop.) I'd already read Kitchen Confidential, so I figured Medium Raw was sure to be a great read with Mr. Bourdain himself narrating again.

Medium Raw IS a great read/listen. This morning, I felt almost dirty listening to Tony describe his favorite bowl of Hanoi pho in his chapter about food porn, aptly titled "Lust." And as I listened to the opening chapter [SPOILER ALERT] where he describes his practically godless experience consuming ortolan [/SPOILER ALERT]- I felt almost ashamed listening to it... and instantly jealous.

So, knock me over with a feather as I'm bawling last night after I finished chapter 13, "Dancing." I was listening to it over dinner since Larry was at a lodge meeting. Bourdain devotes an entire chapter to his 2.5 year old daughter and why he wanted to be a father.

Fuck, I can't even listen to an audiobook in an entirely non-infertility related category, read by one of my celebrity crushes no less, without being reminded of this profound lack in my life. Thank you infertility, for managing to crash yet another "I thought this was a safe area of my life" parties.

Not to spoil the whole chapter, but Bourdain speaks of how he practically worships his little girl: she's his whole world, and rightfully so. From prying Play-Do from under his fingernails to dancing without a care, to ditching the leather motorcycle jacket for a pair of Dockers khakis - Bourdain leaves for his daughter a loving, razor-edged legacy of wit and wisdom, and ultimately, a love letter of empowerment.

He does spend a good bit of the chapter talking about his desire for fatherhood. After his 2006 ordeal in Beirut, where he and the crew of No Reservations was stranded due to nothing short of a war, Bourdain came back to the US and pretty much got off the plane, went home, and made a baby. Seriously. This isn't so much paraphrasing as it is nearly verbatim from the book.

Lately, I have been way down on myself. There's been some flutter of varying pregnancy-related announcements again in my life, so once again I feel like the last kid picked for the team. I've been wrestling with the idea of getting a second opinion, and worrying that depending on what Doc #2 could say, might change all of our plans. This past weekend I had to scurry home suddenly after a lunch date with a friend. After we parted, I continued to browse the little shops all over Salem's downtown, when I was suddenly hit with an overwhelming sadness and ache.

I want a little kid to dress up for Halloween, too.

I nearly burst into tears in the middle of a confectioner shop. FFS, I was surrounded by chocolate and yet I nearly started to cry. To add insult to injury: the fastest way home is right past a boutique maternity wear shop.

As I walked briskly home, I watched that same movie reel play out in my head that I fear sadly, will never play on any major screens in my actual life: a passionate love scene, a nervous glance at a watch, coming out of the bathroom with a positive test, our faces glowing, eyes glistening, clever announcements to family and friends, three seasons of bliss and preparation, and the climax of the film: a slap, a baby crying, tears and laughter and gazing adoringly into the eyes of the future.

Roll credits.

When I saw Larry that afternoon, I told him how down I was. I told him, "I just want to make you a daddy." He hugged me, I cried, and he assured me that we'll get there.

So last night, when I thought I could get just an hour of non-infertility related headspace, I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I was eating dinner at the time and I actually lost my appetite.

It was the moment where foodie met iffy.

I fucking love food. Probably a little too much, as reflected in my BMI. Food is a highly sensual experience. Flavors may last only a few minutes on the palate, but forever in the dark recesses of our memory. Flavor, much like aroma, marry themselves to very acute, precise memories and when recalled, unleash such a hunger of both physical and mental proportion that the latter can nearly overwhelm the former. It's a sort of culinary nostalgia: the memory of taste awakens the ache of something once delicious long ago.

Like tilting my nose toward a sizzling, aromatic entree as the waiter passes by my table, I feel that twist in my stomach: I want. It's that ache, that hunger - that I understand, that can consume me.

I want a baby. Forget adoption for the moment, because hunger can make us irrational - I want a baby of my own. I want to experience motherhood, parenthood, of imprinting the clean slate that Bourdain speaks of when referencing his daughter. I want the intimate baby-making. I want the swollen belly like an ancient Goddess totem, to feel the surge of the Divine Feminine, to fill this most gaping absence in the story of Women's Mystery and Creation.

Infertility is an ache that reaches far deeper into our bellies, unlike any other hunger we have known.

When Foodie met Iffy. Foodies savor abundance and hunger for more. And this iffy weeps for her empty plate and hungers for just the chance.

Just give me a taste of what this could be like.

Remembering Our Losses

Today, October 15th, is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Recognized in all 50 states, people are asked to light a candle at 7pm tonight for one hour to remember those who left this world far, far too soon.

I have never experienced a loss myself, and it's something that has actually been the driving force behind pursuing adoption. Is IVF truly worth the risk if we lose the pregnancy? I just don't know how I could bear it. IVF/DE isn't totally off the table yet, but the notion of loss is still an ever-present thought in the back of my mind.

While I'm incredibly lucky not to have experienced loss like this, I know many women, both personally and through the blogosphere, that have. And so for them, for their losses: you're in my hearts always, but especially so today.

Pregnancy loss is one of those topics that people aren't really sure with how to deal. How do you have a funeral? Why does this loss get less attention and compassion than the loss of someone who's older? It's all grief, it's all sad, and it doesn't deserve to be diminished in importance for the griever just because it doesn't fit the typical model of loss and death in modern society.

I can't imagine this kind of pain, and for those who have experienced it: I grieve for you and your loss and hope that you find peace, clarity, and hope it its wake.

Below is an incredibly moving and beautiful video with more information about this day of rememberance.



For more information, please visit http://www.october15th.com/.

The things in my head.

Dr. Google Images' brain.

As October suddenly whisked in with rains and cold, dreary weather, I've been feeling that autumn slump. I have mild to moderate seasonal affective disorder (ironically called SAD) and this is the lastest it's ever kicked into gear. It always seems to happen right after the High Holidays, but I suppose it would make sense for this year that it feels later- Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur were ridiculously early this year. So, I suppose I'm right on target. Basically, once Columbus Day rolls around, I always seem to find myself in a bit of a funk.

I'm not depressed, just gloomy and exhausted all the time. I've been staying until 8 or 9pm at work the last week. The return of some sun has been a great relief. I've started (finally) taking vitamin D supplements, something my doc has been wanting me to do for, oh, I dunno, a year? Oops. Sorry doc. But you kind of suck anyway and I'm getting a new one soon. Oy, was that snarky? There's that gloominess creeping back in again I suppose.

That's the figurative reference to my post title. The literal one refers to my physical grey matter, and I'm finally explaining that cryptic bit I threw in my last post about my trip to the emergency room last Monday night. So this gets into some delicate and mildly embarassing territory, but, this is the IF community, right? What's a little more oversharing? So here goes.

Three weeks ago, I had a severe migraine headache, unlike one I've ever had in the 15 years I've been having migraine headaches. I have pretty distinct triggers: aged cheeses, lack of sleep, caffeine withdrawl, hormonal imbalances, and occasionally processed/cured meats. I can tell in a matter of minutes whether it's going to be worth just a couple of Aleve or perhaps prescription migraine meds (that I save only for the really bad ones b/c I only get 12 pills at a time). I get auras, light and sound sensitivity, and rarely, nausea.

But this migraine, which triggered into a full-blown, "no time to even get to the medicine cabinet, I may just throw up right now turn off the lights omg I'm pretty sure my head is literally exploding" migraine in a matter of a minute. The trigger?

*coughs* Sex.

And then the migraine returned every other time we did it since that first migraine. It shortened in duration and intensity with each iteration, but I'll tell you what: it was quite the mood killer. Why would we continue to have sex if it was still giving me migraines? Well, we did it in the name of science. I'd had enough so I went to a doc (one in our practice, not my ever incompetent PCP) and well, she laughed. She had never heard of it before, but thanks to Dr. Google, I know that coital cephalalgia is fairly common, if underreported. She referred me to a neurologist and I had my appointment with Dr. OoohNooo* last Monday.

*I call him Dr. OoohNooo because he looks exactly like Will Forte and all I could think of was that SNL skit where he plays Andy, the Oh No Guy. Thankfully, that is not what he replied when I sat down and said, "I'm getting migraines from sex."

We went through my history as a migraineur (lol, I sound like a connisseur of migraines). Dr. OoohNooo seemed rather unphased by what I said, noting that orgasmic migraines are fairly common in his line of work and that our focus should be on diagnosing the cause and ruling out some scarier stuff, like a broken blood vessel in my skull (which could lead to a stroke) or worse, an aneurysm. I had the choice between a CT scan with radioactive injected dye or an MRI. I opted for the MRI and the earliest I could be scanned was last Thursday. He said I should take a baby aspirin daily until then, in case it was a broken blood vessel. Everything seemed to be fine. We chuckled about the silliness of it all... hahaha, migraines from sex, hahaha.

Yeah... and then things got scary.

On the (hour-long) way home from my appointment, my neuro calls me back. After doing some thinking and going back over my history, especially as it relates to having had PCOS at one point and dealing with hormonal issues for the last year, as well as the severity of the initial migraine...

"I'd like you to go to your local ER and get the CT scan done. I'm concerned you may have suffered an aneurysm."

Yeah, that's great news to hear when you're driving at 70 mph on the highway.

So after coming home and freaking the fuck out and trying to stomach some dinner (b/c we knew the ER takes FOREVER), we drove to the hospital not even 5 minutes from our house. I prayed a lot. I called my mom. Larry called his parents. I sent out a rather uncharacterist text to a group of close friends asking them to think good thoughts. And we waited and waited and waited to be seen.

In the room next to us, once I got a bed, I could hear a woman crying as she explained her issue to the nurse: "I'm six weeks pregnant and I'm bleeding heavily. I think I'm having a miscarriage."

It was surreal.

Finally the IV tech came in to put in my IV line, into the arm of She of Spider-thin, Spongey, Collapsing Veins. Yeah, it sucked. For the CT scan, they have to inject iodine dye into my veins at a very high speed. the nurse came in and did the "BTW, this doesn't usually happen, but we're legally required to tell you that this could kill you instantly on the table" schpiel. AWESOME.

Into the CT room I go. They do some non-dye control scans and then it's time for my high speed injection. Yeah, it hurt. And my vein had had enough, so once the dye was injected, it collapsed when there was a saline flush at the end of the injection... so all of that saline went into the soft tissue of my arm... which proceeded to swell like something out of the damn Mütter Museum. Seriously? I looked like I had a softball stuffed under the skin around my elbow. Gross.

We wait for an hour while they put heat on my arm and... nothing. The results came back perfectly normal. All that worry and waiting around for 5 hours for nothing. They sent me home.

Dr. OoohNooo still wanted me to have the MRI done. I get it done and... nothing. Results are normal as well. I'm thrilled I don't have any kind of serious head trauma and I'm very thankful that my neuro wanted to be so thorough, but it's annoying to know that every time I have sex, I get a migraine. So finally, I'd had enough. We had a moratorium on all things arousal since I went to the doctor two weeks ago and I was just entirely too pent up. We threw caution to the wind and [insert sex euphemism here].

And... nothing (well, not nothing... it was great!). No migraine this time. Hallelujah!

...and WTF?

Apparently this is how coital cephalalgia works. It starts randomly for no reason and will often resolve on its own mysteriously. Weird. So I've got a follow up in two weeks where I can say to my neuro that this was all an exercise in futility apparently. Oh human body, your wonders never cease to amaze.

So there's my super TMI story and why I've been missing in action the last two weeks or so. What's new with y'all? I need to play catch up on the blogosphere like whoa.

Night of Hope Recap

Night of Hope was simply amazing. Held at the very swanky Guastavino's in New York City on Tuesday, September 28, RESOLVE put on one classy gala celebration. Here are my pics from the night.

The lady in red? That's me. That classy lookin' guy in the suit? That's Larry. The fancy lookin' lady in the black pantsuit? My mom Debbie :) And the two other women holding awards in that picture with me? Those would be (from left) Best Blog winner Julie Robichaux, aka, A Little Pregnant and Best Book winner Pamela Tsigdinos, author of Silent Sorority. Oh! And my 1 pic with a celeb: Alisyn Camerota from FOX and Friends Weekend was the emcee for the evening. All the rest of the details after the cut.

Larry and I left bright and early Tuesday morning after making a quick pitstop to Target so I could pick up an evening bag - a girl's gotta have a complete ensemble! We made it to Brooklyn by lunchtime and met up with a friend of ours and had lunch at the famous/omgdelicious Junior's Deli. They are apparently famous for their cheesecake, but sadly, we didn't sample a slice as we were running short on time and we wanted to save room for dinner (more on that deliciousness later). It was great to catch up with Jen who we hadn't seen since her wedding last year and then we were off into the wilds of NYC streets to get to our hotel.

We stayed at the Marriott East Side, made possible only by cashing in all of Larry's Marriott points. It's basically across the street from the Waldorf Astoria, so you can probably guess as to what a nightly rate might be there. We were given the option of a queen bed on a high floor or a king bed on a lower floor. We thought "higher floor, better view" but instead we were looking at the back of the building and thought, hm, let's splurge for that king room. (Oh we were TOTALLY those guests that went up to the first room and changed our minds.) So as we're waiting for a bellhop to key us into our new room, we notice there's a lot of activity on this new floor. When the bellhop lets us in, he says, "I hope you don't mind the Secret Service guy on the terrace next to your room."

Turns out, Vice President Biden was staying in our hotel for the UN Conference this week. That would explain the unusually large amount of NYPD around the hotel and those guys in suits with ear-pieces in the lobby. And yes, there was a guy on the terrace ledge next to our room scoping out everything. Larry has been on a 24 kick lately so he was all like, "It's just like Jack Bauer!" and I replied "Well, Jack Bauer doesn't need to see me get dressed," and I shut the shade. We then made jokes about the no-fly list and bugs in our room as I hustled to get ready.

What I have failed to mention is that I still hadn't finished writing my speech. I had written a draft in the car that Larry thought was nice, but once we were in the hotel and I read it aloud again, this time without the distraction of the radio and traffic, we both realized it was crap and I had to rewrite it. It was 4pm. The event started at 6pm.

Larry insisted that I not memorize it but I was too rushed to try and write the whole thing down, so I ended up typing it as a doc on my iPhone. I know, I know - nerd. I own up to that. Before we left I raised the shade and the Secret Service guy was gone, like a whisper in the night. Cool... and admittedly creepy too.

Then we rushed to get a cab at 4:30 because I figured there would be road closures and rush hour traffic and... we got to Guastavino's in about 10 minutes. I didn't have to be there until 5:20. I proceded to walk around the block practicing my speech and trying to calm my nerves. Finally, at 5pm we went in. When I checked in, I had a lovely bouquet of roses waiting for me from Dr. Lawrence Nelson. He and I have been in touch the last few months and he was scheduled to attend but couldn't at the last minute. It was a really sweet gesture. I was greeted right away by people who knew me by face from my video and as I walked around, I realized that more people there would know me from my video than I would know them... it was a very strange realization and I suddenly felt like I was under a microscope.

As effervescent as I can appear to be in public, it can still be a challenge to mix and mingle for me, especially where the ratio of personal recognition did not favor me in the least. Suddenly, I got VERY nervous for the rest of the night.

I was relieved then, after a quick walkthrough of the stage area upstairs, to see my mom standing with Larry when I came back downstairs. She looked radiant! We got ourselves some cocktails and had a seat. As more folks came in, I said hi to colleagues and finally got to meet several people I had only met online or over the phone - it was great to finally meet these folks in person (like Julie & Pamela). I even managed to stumble a very awkward hello and introduction to Sherri Shepherd, one of the hostesses of The View who was there to accept the Hope Award for Achievement on their behalf that evening. (Her speech, by the way, was hysterical and poignant: "We didn't have insurance so we put the whole IVF cycle on our Amex. Now we have like, 400,000 Sky Miles thanks to our son!")

The evening got underway with a special video message from Guiliana and Bill Rancic as they couldn't be present to accept their award. I had no clue who they were (and still kind of don't because I never watched The Apprentice or E! News) until I looked them up on my phone that night. But apparently, they have a new reality show debuting next Monday on the Style Network that chronicles both their relationship and their infertility journey. In fact, I just watched the teaser trailer online and now I'm all teary-eyed! It looks to be the kind of awareness-building show our community needs right now.

Dinner was delish: flat-iron steak, grilled asparagus, stuffed potatoes, and a delicious salad. And of course: wine. I had to slow down on the cocktails because I hadn't eaten too much and I didn't want to be sloshed when I went to accept my award. (Although, it certainly helped calm my nerves.) At the last minute, I decided to write out my speech and began frantically copying it onto the back of my logistics sheet with the awards order and room layout guide I got when I checked in. Then, it was go time.

I got up one award before mine and waited in the holding area. Jeff Silsbee, Marketing Leader for Merck Pharmaceuticals, would do my introduction. We had a minute to chat before going up and he said it was great to meet me in person after seeing my video. During his intro speech, he mentioned that his team at Merck was very moved by seeing my video. I was floored. I had no idea it had been seen by the Fertility Marketing team of a major pharmaceutical company. They showed a 60 second clip of my video and it was so strange to see a) the video and b) myself on the big screen (two big screens actually). I felt like someone unleashed a whole net of butterflies into my stomach and throat as I was called up to the stage.

Click here to see the full video of my entire award acceptance, including my speech.

The whole 7 minutes from introduction until I came down from the stage felt like a blink. Before I knew it, I was back in my seat hugging my mom and kissing Larry. Afterward we headed to the dessert reception, where I barely ate as person after person came up to me to bestow congratulations and compliments. I am certainly grateful for all of the well wishes; I was just very overwhelmed and VERY out of my element. Thank G-d for Larry- he's a schmoozer by nature- so he helped me work the room and reminded me to hand out my business cards. I got to talk more at length with Jeff; I met Jennifer Redmond of Fertility Authority and we chatted about my possibly writing for them soon; Preya Shivdat, founder of Fertile Dreams, a grant-giving non-profit for couples struggling with IF; and had a very interesting conversation with Dr. Ali Domar of the Domar Mind/Body Center - she's inspired me to seek a second opinion of my diagnosis; I met fellow awardees Renee Whitley and Lee Rubin Collins, both very inspiring women who take advocacy to its highest levels in the US.

I'm sure there were lots and lots more fantastic people that I met, but honestly, the night was such a blur it's hard to remember everyone. If we did meet and forgot to exchange cards, please do feel free to email me, find me on Facebook or Twitter. All those handy links are on my sidebars.

In all, it was a simply gala evening and I enjoyed myself immensely. Thank you so much to RESOLVE for hosting such a wonderful event and for this incredible honor you've bestowed on me. Now I have a very pretty (and very heavy!) crystal award vase to proudly display on one of the four hearths we have in our new home.

...Although, as Julie and I were joking, we might use them for snack storage. Yanno, just eat some M&Ms out of it from time to time.

Larry is convinced Night of Hope is my tipping point. Tipping into what... I'm not sure yet. But I hope it's toward big opportunities, a chance to raise awareness and to continue my advocacy, and hopefully, somewhere soon down this path - towards building our family.

Gearing Up for Night of Hope

Night of Hope is tomorrow night, sponsored by RESOLVE. I've got the dress. I've got the shoes. And more importantly, I've got the Award (well, at least on paper - no plaque yet).

Then why do I feel so woefully unprepared for tomorrow night? Why am I so nervous?

I've always been a pretty confident public speaker, extemporaneous or prepared. If I need to get up and do a dog and pony show for people, I'm your gal. I make it happen. Hell, I've got a beauty title and a perfomance at Carnegie Hall under my belt - all before the age of 18. In an alternate universe, Keiko Zoll is a world-reknowned opera star. Needless to say, I don't really have a problem getting up in front of people.

For tomorrow night, I've got a minute and a half to say any remarks once I receive my award. I've known since July that I received this award. And yet... I still haven't written an acceptance speech. Why is this so hard? Why am I so petrified about tomorrow night?

There is the chance for celebs to be there, true- Night of Hope is being emcee'd by Fox and Friends Weekend Anchor, Alisyn Camerota amd The View has been awarded The Hope Award for Achievement. Could I be hobnobbing with Barbara Walters? Maybe... I don't know! But the possibility both thrills and terrifies me.

Me, who's performed five times in "The Vagina Monologues," talking about lady bits in front of complete strangers - is nervous about possibly bumping into the ladies of The View.

I'm excited, don't get me wrong. A whirlwind 48 hours staying in a ritzy Manhattan hotel (hooray for Larry's Marriott points!) and spending the day with my mom. Getting all dolled up. And oh, receiving the Hope Award for Best Viral Video. It's been a slow day at work today and I've had a hard time concentrating because I am so excited. And I'm nervous too. It's getting down to the wire and I really need to write my acceptance speech.

But before I say anything tomorrow night:

Thank you - each and every one of you who read my blog, who watched my video, who forwarded it to their friends and colleagues and sisters and daughters and friends, who posted it to Facebook, your blog, Twitter, and all those corners of the internet.

I could have never won a Viral Video Award if it didn't go viral, and I have every single person who hit play to thank for that.

Thank you for watching, reading, advocating, sharing, and above all else:

Thanks for not giving up hope.

I'll be tweeting and prolly twitpic-ing my way through the event tomorrow, so make sure to follow @miriamshope for a little live-tweeting throughout the night. And if I meet any celebs, you better believe there will be pics! You can also check out other live-tweeters by following #nightofhope.

It's going to be a great night and even though I'm nervous, I can't wait. Wish me luck folks.

A little self-nourishment

Ironically enough, I'm writing this as I have a little post-lunch munchies. *reaches for a granola bar* (Baruch ata ", borei minei mezonot for those of you playing along at home.)

I got to work 20 minutes early this morning, after running out of time to finish getting ready before I left home an hour earlier. So I painted my nails a shiny hot pink - a bold and unexpected color choice for me... still not sure if I like it yet.

My hair was down for the first half of the day, washed, airdryed and combed. It now rests in a soft, loose ponytail rather than in a tightly-wound still wet from my morning shower bun or hair claw.

I'm wearing a very cute new navy blue carigan with flowers on the lapel, a new ruffled tank top, and new brown peep toe flats. I bought these randomly on Tuesday night because, well, I thought they were all cute and I wanted them.

For breakfast I at a hardboiled egg I had made before I went to bed. For lunch, leftover Japanese curry my husband made for dinner last night and a salad with homemade Asian vinaigrette (mirin, rice vinegar, light and hot sesame oils, soy sauce, and black sesame seeds). And rasberries and vanilla Greek yogurt.

Right now? 15 minutes to myself at work to just breathe, write this post, and maybe take 5 minutes to walk outside and get some fresh air.

Tonight: dinner with friends at a new restaurant nearby and then back to work for 2 hours for an RA program. I'm looking forward to my commute home much later this evening so I can listen to the second chapter of Stieg Larsson's The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

Sunday: a haircut and style for $29 at a Newbury Street salon because my husband so thoughtfully passed on a Groupon deal to me and said, "You should buy this and treat yourself. You deserve it."

He's right: I do deserve it. Sometimes it's just good to be a little selfish, take a little me-time, and treat yourself once in a while. It's so easy to keep putting off that me time and say, "I don't have time for that now. I have more important things." Well, I'm important too. If I don't take this time, then it'll be gone before I know it.

I've been making more of a commitment to both eat healthier and save some money by bringing healthy, filling lunches from home. If it means taking 20 minutes the night before to put it together, it's worth it the next day when I feed myself good things and don't break the bank by ordering pizza again.

It's about nourishing myself: not just body, but spirit. I said to Larry last night how I felt weird about my new suburban routine: get up nearly 2 hours earlier than I used to, shower, get dressed, have an hour commute to work, work all day, hour commute home, take a little time for myself, eat dinner, make my lunch for the next day, clean the kitchen, straighten up, check the weatehr and lay out next day's clothes, relax for a bit, bed. Get up at 6:30am, lather, rinse, repeat.

So if I take a few minutes to primp myself (haven't gotten to full on makeup before work... still not THAT motivated) or finally start using our Audible credits and listening to audiobooks on my commute to/from work, or even splurge on a couple of new clothes and some nail polish - all of this just to break up this new monotony, well, there it is. I'm doin' it.

What on earth does this have to do with infertility?

Take 5 minutes for yourself. Paint your nails. Make yourself a nice lunch. Give yourself a foot soak in the tub and lotion your feet afterward. Buy that cute top. Get up from your desk at work and go for a 5 minute walk outside. Nourish yourself.

I'll say it again: nourish yourself. Savor the feeling of doing something good for yourself, even if it's just 5 minutes in a busy day or an hour in a busy week. We can get so bogged down in all the craziness of treatment and homestudies and lawyers and needles and dumb FB posts from friends and disappointment and blood tests and waiting and loss of control that well...

It's enough to drive you crazy.

So nourish yourself. Feed your spirit.

It'll be that spirit that carries you along the next step in your journey, that pulls you up from the dark places, that dusts off your shoulders and says, "Alright, let's do this."

Holy OMNOMNOM-ing

Welcome to another ICLW! I've been missing from the blogosphere recently and I thought that ICLW was just what I needed to get back into the virtual swing of things. Past ICLW intros can be found linked here, but to give you the quick rundown:

• I'm 28 with POF. Hoping to pursue domestic infant adoption with my husband Larry in the next 3-5 years.
• Just bought our first house! Also, had our first (hopefully only) fire. Homeownership is full of adventure, I'm quickly learning.
• Recently featured in Tablet Magazine last month for an article about infertility and reconciling Jewish faith.
• Getting awarded next Tuesday night in NYC at RESOLVE's Night of Hope Awards for Best Viral Video.

So there's the quick schpiel.

This has been a very contemplative start to the Jewish New Year for me. While I don't think our fire was any kind of punishment from G-d, it certainly was a wake-up call. The takeaway message I got from all of this: we have a new home. It's time to really start living Jewishly.

It's time to find a shul. It's time to really start observing Shabbos, perhaps rising to the call of the Sabbath Manifesto, as we were called to do at Yom Kippur services this year. It's a neat concept that Larry particularly finds intriguing that I could get behind too.

For me? On a more personal way of being Jewish? Sanctifying the ordinary, most basic everyday act: saying the blessings before food. If I won't keep kosher (because I'm sorry, bacon cheeseburgers and lobster are too delicious for a foodie to give up entirely) then I can at least make the act of eating holy.

I'll be honest. This is not easy; there isn't one catch-all blessing I can say. There's a blessing for bread (ha-motzi lechem min ha'aretz) but a different one for pasta and crackers (borey miney mezunot). And you say one blessing for grapes and wine (fruit of the vine), one for apples, pears and the like (fruit of the tree), and another entirely for most veggies and contradictingly enough, bananas (fruit of the earth).

But I do it because it forces me to give pause before I eat, to be thankful for daily sustenance, to sanctify the ordinary and to be mindful and take note of what I'm putting into my body. I've figured out that the more blessings I have to say, the more balanced my meal ^_^

And with that, it's time for lunch. Bon apetit and happy noshing.

Oh yeah: babies.

Photo via Flickr by Mike Locke.

So I've been a bit remiss in posting lately. Work has basically taken over my life as has everything with the house. Speaking of: we had an electrician in yesterday repairing all the fried wiring and Servpro comes out again tomorrow to begin their 5-day cleanup of the house from top to bottom.

I've gotten used to the commute but I do miss going home for lunch with my husband. The days feel a little longer now as a result. I haven't felt this positive about my job in a while but the hours are wearing on me a bit. Ah, the joys of going from non-exempt hourly to exempt salaried... suddenly I'm here all hours of the day and night because they don't have to pay me overtime. (I do get limited comp time.)

I've had so much going on that I've completely forgotten to shout and showcase some things... like my giveaway winners! (This weekend, I PROMISE!) And AFA, RESOLVE, and WEGO Health events here in Boston, an article where I was interviewed for Tablet Magazine last month, and the Night of Hope in less than 2 weeks. And oh yeah, didn't I start this blog because I wanted a baby and couldn't have one??

When you start writing checks for thousands of dollars for things UNrelated to artificial babymaking, it's interesting how your priorities shift. We basically had to make the decision this summer: do we buy a house or a baby right now? We chose to buy a house. Thus, saving up for adoption has been kicked back easily another two or three years. A year ago, I would have freaked out but now I'm in a place where I think I'm ok with this. Well, not that we have much of a choice: there's no money left to "buy" a baby if we could, adoption or otherwise.

This idea of building a family in general is strange to me: for fertile couples, it just kind of happens naturally, usually within a given time frame. Accidents and suprises happen. But for us, it's just another item on Life's To Do List and will fit within a prescribed timeline for us as soon as finances can come together. Our family building is entirely way more planned out than I think we would have ever wanted.

I miss this lack of spontaneity. I wish my life didn't feel so planned out.

But I don't miss being independent, a family of two, a homeowner. I haven't exactly been Miss Baby Fever lately. Don't get me wrong, I still ooh and ahh over my adorable little neice (um, because she's ridiculously cute!). I'm still very excited for friends who are building and expanding their own families. But for us? Right now?

Is it wrong that I'm more interested a sofa and chair than a crib and stroller? I'm just not on that whole BABYNOW vibe.

Ironically enough, Larry has expressed on multiple occasions recently he'd totally be happy to be a new dad right now. Awww... just typing that melts my heart. We've both apparently done a complete 180 from about 6 months ago. I want to enjoy being a family of two for a little while longer. Just watching my sister with her soon to be 3-month old exhausts me: am I really up for that? I wonder to myself. Sometimes I wonder if I'm up for the challenge entirely.

As I shared with someone last week, sometimes it's easier to turn down an opportunity entirely than to accept the opportunity and its responsibility because you run a greater risk of failure. It's a whole lot easier for me to say I don't want to parent than to parent and fail. I'm totally cognizant of all of this.

But it's affected the way I'm looking at my advocacy. Yes, lobbying for infertility awareness, research, and legislation is still important. But suddenly it's not in the spotlight anymore. Maybe it's just because I'm totally overworked as of late. Maybe it's because I'm don't have visions of baby-plum faeries dancing round my head right now. Maybe it's because secretly, I know it's easier to walk away before things get big than deal with the burden of responsibility later.

In any event, this blog is supposed to be about our family-building journey and it's on a bit of a hiatus right now. I'm not saying I'm taking a hiatus from this blog, but I'm wondering now if "infertility blog" is the most accurate descriptor at this point in time. Right now, it's just "life."

It's all just life: moving onward a day at a time, as we're left to marvel at its passing. Smack in the middle of the Days of Awe and with a rare fiery blessing extended to us, I'm left contemplative of this notion. It's a reflective melancholy as I take stock of what's important, so if this post is a bit of a downer, I apologize.

Got a lot of stuff on my mind lately, but oddly enough, that stuff doesn't include babies right now.