June ICLW: Elementally Speaking

Howdy! Thanks for stopping by for June's ICLW. (Learn more about the ICLW here and see how you can sign up for next month.) I've got a few previous ICLW intro posts to get you up to speed: ABC's of Me (November 2009), April 2010, and May 2010. For this month's intro, I think I'll try something a little different: looking at my life right now through the Four Elements. Intrigued?

The Four Elements of Me

Earth: What Grounds Me ~ Roots and Foundation
+ My husband, Larry: totally my rock, my love, my soulmate. We've been married for 2 and a half years. We were high school sweethearts from 1997... do the math. We've been together a long time and are still madly in love with one another.
+ My family: My mom, my papa, my sister Jasmine and her husband Neal - these are my core. Then Larry's mom, dad, and sister - just as much family as my own blood. And soon, probably sometime this week: Willow! My niece-to-be, the first grandchild, the little darling we've been waiting 9 months to meet. You can count on a post about her later this week since my sister will be induced on Friday :)
+ My faith: I'm Jewish. But I put an equal amount of faith in the goodness of humanity, the beauty that surrounds us daily we often take for granted, and in the sovereignty and power of the collective creativity of women. I ground myself by redefining the world around me, and walking forward with faithful steps in the world I've created.

Water: What Moves Me ~ Transition and Flow
+ My health: it's been in a varying state of flux. I have premature ovarian failure, diagnosed in April of 2009. I have Hashimoto's thyroiditis. I recently learned I've got degenerative arthritis in my lower spine. Oh yeah, I'm 28. Thankfully though, my thyroid appears to finally be stabilized after a year of ups and down, my my POF is being treated with HRT.
+ My job: Recently promoted.
+ My home: We are house-hunting, and hope to have a formal offer in to the seller by COB today.

Air: What Lifts Me ~ Joy and Celebration
+ Food, music, the arts, photography, flowers, Hell's Kitchen, Weeds, LOST, Radiohead, indie music, Vampire Weekend, MUSE, art house cinema, Bach Cello Suites, cooking, our trip Japan last year, camping, fishing, reading, writing, writing my book, RadioLab, The Moth, This American Life, taking the time to literally stop and smell the roses.

Fire: What Consumes Me ~ Passion and Perseverance
+ Having a family: The timeline has been pushed back significantly since we're buying a house, but we plan on adopting an infant domestically. We're skipping fertility treatments altogether.
+ My advocacy: I've recently decided that I am an health advocate, fighting for infertility treatment coverage and research. It all started with this video. The content of my blog has shifted slightly from mostly about me to more about the greater ALI blogosphere and what we can all do to be everyday advocates. I am also RESOLVE of New England's newest Board member on their Board of Directors!
+ My writing: I do it all the time. I've been keeping a journal in print or electronic form since I was in 7th grade. This blog is a continuation of that, but I'm starting to branch out to other places like Examiner.com and hopefully more paying opportunities. I'm also writing a book about my experience of converting to Judaism three years ago.

Looking forward to meeting new folks. Happy ICLW and happy commenting!

Image used with generous permission by the artist, Alida Saxon, copyright 2010.

Adoption Decision Making Seminar

Sidebar: Thank you to everyone's condolences and sympathies for the passing of my grandmother this week. They have meant so much to me during this particularly difficult time.

RESOLVE of New England's Adoption Decision Making Seminar is this Saturday in Newtonville, MA. Check out my latest Examiner.com article for more info. I hope to do a review of the seminar first thing next week; Larry and I are really looking forward to it.

Are you considering adoption as a family building solution? Have you exhausted your fertility treatment options and are looking to explore adoption? Are your weighing the pros and cons of domestic and international adoption? The Adoption Decision Making Seminar this Saturday, June 12, 2010 in Newtonville might just be the best place to find your answers. Read the rest of the article here at Examiner.com.


(Photo by Vivian Chen via Flickr.)

Granny has passed.

Granny passed very early this morning after a two month battle with congestive heart failure, just past 2am. My mom called me at about 3am; I was in a sound sleep, but just starting to have hints of waking as a huge thunderstorm- one of the most intense I've ever experienced since moving to Boston- came roiling in on top of us. The raging storm seemed fitting for the moment, signifying the end of something, and someone, so dear to so many people. She was 91.

I was very fortunate to have spent her 90th birthday with her last year, along with all of my aunts and uncles and several of the dozens of grandchildren (which sadly, I don't even know 85% of their names or how exactly we're related. I have a HUGE network of cousins and second cousins). Larry was even fortunate enough to be able to come down and join us also, as was my sister and brother-in-law. It was a really lovely day and I'm so lucky to have been able to share that with her. When she was hospitalized briefly a couple of weeks ago, I realized I might not have the chance to tell Granny how much I loved her, so I sent her a card to that effect. I'm so glad I did because she passed less than a month after that first scare.

Granny was born in 1919. She mothered 7 children: 2 boys and 5 girls - over a span of nearly 20 years. My Granny literally lived the term "dirt poor" and yet she always made sure there was a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. She lived in the deep South and yet always remained a fairly progressive woman. When her second youngest daughter (my Mom) married a Japanese man, he was welcomed into the family like just another person. This coming on the heels of the civil rights movement in the South- it was big deal at the time. She was also very supportive and excited about my decision to convert to Judaism and eventually marrying a Jew. She really loved Larry, and I'm so glad he got to meet her on a few occasions in the last decade.

She was always a no-frills kind of woman, with a huge heart and a wicked sharp intellect. She told it like it was and had the gift for some of the most biting one-liners. When I was born, she stayed with my Mom for a month as my parents adjusted to a new baby for the first time in 8 years. As she got older, my Aunt Kay took primary responsibility for her, Granny moving in with her and my two cousins. Granny lived with my Aunt Kay for nearly 10 years. When her health wasn't doing so well, she was moved to the nursing home about two years ago.

I am very, very sad. My mom is of course, sad, but she and her siblings have been preparing for this all week, if not the last year or so. Still, it doesn't soften the blow any less when it finally happens. Her funeral will be next week in her hometown in Georgia. I will probably not be online for most of next week, as there is extensive travel to get to this tiny little town. I want to leave you with one of my favorite stories about her.

How Granny Got Back Her Sewing Machine
My grandfather (who died before I was born) was kind of your typical man of the South in the 1940s-50s: drank too much, owned some guns, might have had a rough hand. Still, my Granny loved him and he was the father of her 7 children. He was a trapper and was responsible for fulfilling the breadwinner role in the home. My Granny was expected to stay at home, raise the kids, and do the 1950s housewife thing.

My Granny was an accomplished seamstress. She did everything she could to provide for and support her children, so she clandestinely began to start doing seamstress work and tailoring for the people in town. She used the money to purchase not one, but two life insurance policies on her husband. I told you: the women had a wicked sharp intellect.

Somehow my grandfather found out and in a drunken stupor decided to end Granny's little side business. He picked up her Singer sewing machine right out of the house and marched it to the lake about a quarter of a mile away. There was no way his wife was going to be earning money more than he, much less really make ANY income. As he was ready to toss the whole sewing machine into the lake, he stopped as he heard the cock of a gun from behind him.

It was Granny, holding my grandfather's double-barreled shotgun.

"If you throw my sewing machine into the lake, it'll be the last thing you'll ever do."

Without a word, he turned around and started walking back to the house, my Granny following behind him with the shotgun pressed against the small of his back.

Needless to say, my Granny got her sewing machine back, and my grandfather never spoke of it again.

Now that is a strong woman.

Miss you, Granny.

The Game of L-if-E

I titled my post today thinking about LIFE, a game I didn't actually start playing until I moved in with Larry 6 years ago; I never owned the game growing up, but Larry took his set when we moved in together. We've played it maybe a dozen or so times. It's one of those game that I'm like, "Oooh, let's play LIFE!" and then I forget how much of a pain it is to setup and kind of boring to play once you get into it. But I've been thinking a lot about it in the last 24 hours, and the fact that our favorite acronym, IF (infertility) is right smack dab in the middle of it.

On our drive home from our awesome weekend in NH last night*, Larry asked me if he thought we should pay off our credit cards with the money we currently have in savings. (*General updates on life lately at the bottom of this post). If we did this, we'd have about $1500 left in savings. We've worked really hard to save what we have so far. I'm all for paying off credit cards (I managed to successfully pay off two very high interest cards with over $10K in debt with the help of a debt management plan 3 years ago), but I'm reluctant to let go of our nest egg so quickly. We rarely live on credit anymore, compared to six years ago when that's just about all we had (and thus, what caused me to nearly drive us completely into credit card debt).

Our conversation shifted to the old debate again: do we buy a child or a house? Because let's face it: adoption or DE/IVF, we're still "buying" a child. It's not a pretty thought, but it's our reality. If we were to soften it, let's say we're buying "a shot at parenthood." We then drifted our conversation into very uncharted waters: choosing to live childfree.

Advantages: not worrying so much about money (hopefully) in that our resources would not be spread across three family members; the ability to travel more; more freedom in general; buying lots of cool things because we are rather consumerist people by nature. Disadvantages: Oh... you know... that whole "not ever having kids" thing. We decided that ultimately, we feel like we'd regret not having kids together, but it was a worthwhile argument to float out there, see what that felt like for a few minutes. We gained a new found respect for some of our childfree family friends in the process, as we talked about their lives and what they're able to do as a result of being childfree.

With my current job situation all topsy turvy (it's so complicated it makes me a little nauseous thinking about it) and my desire to move out of higher ed, we're faced with having to find our own place to live for the first time in three years. We've done the renting gig before, but our first apartment experience was a rare one: we rented a condo, paid no utilities, and our rent only went up $100 over the course of three years. Did I mention this place had a washer/dryer and dishwasher in unit, free parking for two cars, allowed us to have pets with no deposit, and air conditioning? Yeah, we live in a much different rental market. Boston/Metro ain't cheap. This has been quite the wake-up call in recent weeks.

So now the question is, do we rent or buy? I don't want to keep pissing away money by renting, especially when we've managed to save so much. But we've basically got enough money to afford either a 3% down-payment on a very modestly priced home, or all of the initial payments for adoption. The problem of buying a home in MA is that if we want to live anywhere nice, convenient, or T-accessible, there's nothing under $500K. We're in the $200-300K market, and $300K is pushing it. I don't want to live in Lynn, South Boston, or Dorchester. If we buy a home, I don't want to buy a "starter home" (that term drives me insane). I want this to be the place we put down roots, which for us, is a daunting prospect considering we've lived like gypsies the past 6 years.

It's like the game of LIFE. Here's this little formula you're supposed to follow: education, career, marriage, house, kids, blah blah blah... And here's your stack of starter play money. Sadly, we don't have that starter stack of cash, and the stack that we do have we're holding onto for dear life. Spinning our brightly colored decision wheel isn't just a part of playing the game: it's a real gamble for our future. It's frustrating and disconcerting sometimes. My husband likes to remind me that this is all about opportunities but I suppose I can be a bit of a pessimist, and all I see is struggle.

I hate this feeling of inaction, of holding dice in my hand with a wide swath of possibility before me, unable to commit to anything right now, afraid to roll a wrong number and making the wrong decision.

The game of life is really the game of "if."

(Photo by Meganne Soh  via Flickr.)

General Updates:
Thanks for an awesome ICLW last week! Great to meet so many new people and add more blogs to my Reader. Sorry I've been MIA the last few days; Larry and I spent a weekend in Lake Winnipesaukee at a friend's lake house. Limited internet access left me virtually off the grid all weekend. We had an amazing time and felt refreshed and relaxed. We did a ton of fishing (I caught 14 sunfish and Larry managed to snag a 2lb smallmouth bass!) and had a great time with four of our friends. I even managed to survive a weekend with a 6 month old and two dogs ^_^ Here are some of my favorite photos from the weekend:

The LOST Finale & Infertility

How can I NOT talk about it? Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Locke, Sayid, Hurley, Desmond, Jin and Sun, hell, even Ben - they've been like family for the last six years. I'll say it now: spoilers abound, so if you haven't seen the finale yet, stop reading now. You've had your warning.

Why on earth would I talk about LOST here though, besides being a totally obsessed fan? Well, the commentary on fertility, life, death, and rebirth has always been a recurring element in the show. Ss someone who is now infertile and learning of this after half the show had aired - well, it's added an interesting element to my viewing. LOST definitely has had some Mommy issues. Women who conceive on the island die. Claire's baby Aaron has to be raised by Kate when Claire cannot escape the island. Jacob, the Man in Black, and Allison Janney as the most terrifying OB/GYN ever as we learn their backstory: birth and fertility have always been woven throughout the show.

EDIT:
...So I cheated and wrote those first three paragraphs a week ago in preparation for ICLW. I have now finished watching the finale, and since this is first I've been able to stop crying hysterically since the credits rolled, I'll try and write something cohesive. All infertility connections aside, this was a beautiful, moving, well-crafted ending to a moving, beautiful, well-crafted story. I'm still sitting here, stunned and a bit haunted by the final scenes.

Did I mention spoilers abound? Seriously, stop reading right now if you haven't seen it.

When Juliet appeared (which I knew was coming when Elizabeth Mitchell's credit popped up in the opening and I may have squee-ed a bit) and performed Sun's ultrasound, I think that was the first time I started crying in the episode. Jin and Sun suddenly remember their island past, and it was just so powerful. Of course, as someone who may never even get to experience this kind of ultrasound, well, it hit home. Same thing for Claire's birth scene in Sideways world, as Kate remembers her island past as she helps to deliver Aaron (again).

In the last half hour of the finale, Kate convinces Claire to leave the island with them. Claire refuses to leave, saying, "This island's made me crazy, I can't be a mother to Aaron like this. I don't even know how to be a mother!"

Kate responds: "No one does, Claire- at least not at first. You're not alone."

Larry chuckled at my abundance of tears, thinking this was all just my reaction to the show, but again, like so many other scenes related to birth and fertility in this show, these words rang deeply within me. Through tears, I explained this to Larry, whose face softened and said, "That's sweet, then honey. It's good to know you're not alone."

Cue: more tears.

While I'm still trying to process the relative ambiguity of the final scene in the church, I'm still left with some of the greater concepts that the show left us with: family (however we define that), faith, love. The underlying message is of course is that what matters most is our experiences, our connections with one another, and the lives we build and craft for us. Like my existential musings last week, it felt like LOST was really speaking directly to my philosophical ponderings.

It's rare that I connect with a show like I have with LOST. Battlestar Galactica was a close second, but I never watched it while it aired. I ended up watching the whole show over 2 months on DVD (and I'm sorry, their finale BOMBED in terms of writing and closure compared to LOST). I think part of it was because that yes, the fertility elements of did resonate so strongly for me that it made the character experience that more human, that more real for me.

This post is a bit rambly since I'm still processing the last two and a half hours I just watched, but I wonder: are their shows or movies that have resonated strongly or differently for you given your journeys in infertility? What are they? How have they impacted you?

Eggs-istentially Speaking

"Do you find your Judaism is influenced by existentialism?"

My mind was racing to remember the definition of existentialism. I had a vague idea, so I blurted out: "Probably. I've always had grand ideas about life, death, God, and human existence."

. . .

This is an excerpt of just one of many interesting conversations I've had in the last two weeks since my video went live. I was speaking with Dr. Lawrence Nelson, Principle Investigator on premature ovarian insufficiency with the National Institutes of Health. For a brief update on where this is going: he'd like to bring me on board with his POI Recovery Team, a group of endocrinologists, pyschologists, nutritionists, and spirtual advisors for women who are coping with POI. My video intrigued him, and we got into a very deep conversation about how I've managed to not only cope so well with my diagnosis, but in such a short time compared to other women with the diagnosis. He brought up this idea of existentialism, so I decided to refresh my memory on the subject.

The simplest definition I found was on a Jack London glossary page. Existentialism is "the belief that one shapes one's basic nature through the direction of life one chooses to live." Our suffering is a result of not being able to create meaning in our lives. The wikipedia article on existentialism provides a good summary as well, going into concepts such as Despair, Angst, Freedom, and Authenticity, all results of our struggle to define and create meaning.

You know, I've never thought of it this way so concretely, but I suppose I am an existentialist Jew. And in a lot of ways, the two complement each other. Judaism is so focused on the marking of time, of creating significance through life cycle events and daily ritual. As Jews, we are taught to craft meaning and our relationship to G-d through these ritual acts. How is that not existential?

. . .

But back to my witty post title.

I've been thinking about existentialism in the context of my infertility. I'm redefining myself, mother, family, etc. I'm crafting new meaning in my life. I'm carving out a path for myself, and while I'm not entirely sure where it's going, I'm confident in the value and fulfillment it will bring.

There are lots of times that I step back and look at my life from a distance, seeing from where I've come and at where I am now. I'm only 2 years away from turning 30, but there are moments when I feel like I've blinked and suddenly I'm about to turn 28, and other moments, like all of 2009, that felt like an eternity. This weekend was both my sister's baby shower and Mother's Day- talk about timing! (Also- both were amazing. The closeness I feel for my mom, my sister, my mom-in-law... it's overwhelming, as is their love and support for Larry and me.) And it was another one of those moments of reflection, of crafting meaning. And today, when I read about the heartbreaking passing of a member of the ALI community- Vee's husband Alex (link goes to a beautiful tribute by Gil, a good friend of their's)- and thinking of my own paranoid terror surrounding death... well, it makes you think. It makes you think that life is effing short, and you've got to make the most of it, right? Carpe diem and all that?

I realized it's about crafting that meaning and fulfillment. I've been saying that the Universe has been talking to me, and it's time I listen. I've decided I'm fully in a job search now for something in the health advocacy sector, and that it's time to leave higher ed. With virtually no direct experience but highly transferrable skills, this is not going to be easy. I've realized this is what I'm meant to do, and I'm only meant to do it because I made that meaning. Not the Universe or G-d. Just me. I think those Outside Influences helped guide me to my conclusion rather than handing me the answer.

I am reminded of another part of my conversation with Dr. Nelson last week. We were talking about Rachel, who in the Bible, was Jacob's most beloved wife and yet she could bear no children. She wept and prayed and fought with her sister and handmaids vying for favor in Jacobs eyes as they each bore him many children. Finally, her prayers were answered and she conceived and bore Joseph and then later Benjamin, Jacob's youngest son. But her prayer came at a price, and she died in childbirth with Benjamin. Infertility and maternal mortality, the two ends, two extremes of the spectrum, bookends, as Dr. Nelson put it, on the experience of human reproduction. The reminder that for beginnings there are endings. In life: death.

And all the rest in between is what we make of it.

A heavy post indeed this week, but I wanted to wrap my brain around some of these bigger thoughts brewing in my head for the last week.

Moms in Six Words

Grown in My Heart presents their Mother's Day Adoption Carnival - The project is simple. In honor of Mother's Day, post a picture of your Mom(s) (however you define it) and write a six-word memoir about her/them. For more info and to see the other blogs in the carnival, check out the link above. I don't want to say much else other than to let these pictures and words speak for themselves.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day.

In her eyes, I'm always beautiful.

"In-law" has never applied.

Sister, worry not: you'll be amazing.

Redefining Motherhood on Mother's Day

Mother. [ˈmə-thər] Noun. Etymology: Middle English moder, from Old English mōdor; akin to Old High German muoter mother, Latin mater, Greek mētēr, Sanskrit mātṛ. Date: before 12th century 1 a : a female parent b (1) : a woman in authority; specifically : the superior of a religious community of women (2) : an old or elderly woman 2 : source, origin 3 : maternal tenderness or affection Merriam Webster Dictionary Online, 2010.

This is our working definition of mother, the one we just know, the one we've known from birth when we looked up into that sweet loving face smiling down at us. No matter who raised us, we looked up to her: we called her Mother. For some, Mother was never a figure in our lives. She might be a memory, a photograph, or a story told to us by others. But always, always this connection to somewhere or someone: Mother.

In my video, I posed the question: what if I redefine what it means to be woman, mother, family? Even in my blog header, I proclaim that I'm redefining womanhood. I no longer define my womanhood by my fertility. While pregnancy is an experience for which I mourn and sometimes long, it is no longer a defining experience of womanhood to me. I've resolved to let my experiences and my history define me.

This Mother's Day, I want to redefine motherhood. So how do we redefine motherhood? I may not be able to compete with Webster's dictionary, but I can certainly do my best to work on a cultural shift.

Motherhood isn't just an act of procreation. My uterus may not have borne children, but it shall bear ideas, voices, action. Motherhood is an act of love, of selfless love at that. Motherhood is an act of sacrifice: whether it's the pain of labor and delivery to the sheer act of giving a part of our heart to another. And that's different from the giving of our hearts to our lifelong companions. Motherhood is sacrificing that bit of ourselves, that bit of our hearts, for another. It is more than just loving affection. Motherhood is about fighting and dying for those we love, the primal lioness who protects her cubs.

And our cubs: they may be borne of us or another. They may yet be born in our hearts. They may indeed be furry friends. They may in fact, be our friends.

This week, as we approach Mother's Day on Sunday, I want to write and explore this idea more, this idea of what it means to be a mother. I know this is a very hard time of the year for many of us. I'm hoping this week as I tease this all out more, that we find strength together, that we channel our fears and worries and dread of this holiday into something positive, into action and renewal.

How do you define Motherhood?

A sea of questions about adoption.

It's Patriot's Day here in Massachusetts, quite possibly my favorite random statewide holiday (aka, freebie day off). Happy start of the American Revolution! It's also the running of the Boston Marathon. I can totally see a relevant metaphor between marathons and adoption, but seeing as I know next to nothing about running culture, I'll just let that metaphor pass me by...

Anywho, we've dived deep into adoption literature and websites, talking more with our families this weekend. Ari needed an eye checkup (his father is an eye doctor), so we spent the weekend with our families; I had the chance to do some serious baby shower shopping for my sister. Our parents are so excited for us. It's wonderful to have their support, and I feel constantly blessed with the amount of support we have in our lives. And I wasn't a blubbering mess picking out shower decorations- in fact, I am freakin' PUMPED to be an aunt in just a couple of months. I think now that since we're solid on our decision to adopt, so much of the uncertainty and doubt about having kids has been washed away. I've moved from pain to excitement.

You may have noticed the large new column of adoption-themed blogs to the left. Thanks to everyone and their suggestions in my last post: I found so many great resources and stories out there. With this influx of information, Ari and I are trying to stay afloat, treading uncertain and overwhelming waters. We have so many questions. Just when we think we have an answer... more questions! It's a lot to digest at once. We've been doing so much of our own soul searching, asking questions of each other and having conversations we never thought we'd have.

Here's just a small snippet of what's running through our heads:

• Race. Wow, this has been an amazing, confusing, refreshing conversation at any given point. It gets interesting because I'm half-Japanese, half-Irish(ish), so I have perhaps a more open attitude toward race. At the end of the day, our preferences are our business, but it's a mind-blowing conversation to be having just the same.
• Religion. Not knocking any Christian organizations out there, but there's a TON of support for Christian couples... haven't seen so much for Jewish couples. Obviously, we'd need to disclose our religion and in what faith our adopted child would be raised. I worry that this is actually going to limit the kind of reception we'll get from birthparents. 
• Cost. Sweet jiminy crickets. Since IF treatment is mandated in Massachusetts, the cost of treating our infertility was a lot more doable than the cost of coping with childlessness (an important distinction). Thankfully, Ari's new job is allowing us to save for the first time in a year, but we still have a lot more to go. I've been researching grants, and sadly, neither of our employers provide any adoption assistance benefits. I've also been toying with the idea of setting up an Etsy shop for some of my crafts, and of course, monetizing this blog. Our parents have also volunteered to help... I wonder is it tacky to ask our friends and family fundraiser-style? Is a PayPal "Donate Here" button on this blog too far? This arena of etiquette is completely foreign to me.
• How open? "Open" adoption can mean a lot of things. Are we a "Come over for lunch on Tuesdays" kind of family or pictures every birthday or are we just "please let us know about any medical issues as they arise for you and your family" when it comes to openness? How open is too open? How will this limit our chances to be picked by birthparents?
• Blogging. Don't worry, I'm not planning on closing this blog any time soon, but as I've browsed other adoption blogs, there are pictures of the adoptive couple, full names, contact information, detailed personal profiles with sidebar badges like "Considering adoption? Consider us!" I wonder if I'm ready to do that when the time comes, or perhaps I just create a separate blog entirely. Do I really want to share all of this with our future agency, birthparents, or even future child? I also wonder if a sidebar request like that isn't also in violation of Massachusetts law (no private advertising may be done by the couple, as independent adoptions are illegal in the state). 
• Stuff. Um, do adoptive parents get baby showers? Do we need to buy a crib before we have a home study? How does one- better yet, WHEN does one get the future child all the stuff they need?
• Cost. Did I mention we're still scrambling to figure out how we're going to afford this?

We're trying not to get too overwhelmed, but all these questions just keep coming. I'm hoping to tread water just long enough to get us to the RESOLVE of the Bay State's Adoption Conference in June. Until then, anyone have some answers or thoughts to our questions?

Surviving Passover: Thoughts on Being Jewish and Infertile

Passover is one of my favorite holidays, second only to Thanksgiving. They're both about food, family, and rich with tradition. Passover is not an easy holiday for the infertile Jew; so much emphasis is placed on children and fertility that it feels like there are little landmines left around the seder plate and hidden with the afikomen. How does Passover affect each sphere of the ALI community: adoption, loss, infertility? And how do we make this a meaningful holiday and spare ourselves the mental and emotional strife?

Before I go on, I need to say: this post is a big step for me. This time a year ago, I nearly lost my faith in the wake of finding out about my infertility. This year, like the crocus that fights through the snow, I come with a renewed perspective and a resilience to go on.

Sitting on our seder plate will be the beitzah, a roasted egg, a symbol of both life and fertility. Typically, particularly among the Sephardi, a roasted egg is the first thing eaten at the start of the festival meal. Traditionally this is also the first food a mourner eats following a Jewish funeral: in death, we remember life. We are reminded of life's cycles, of marking time- these concepts are foundational to the Jewish faith. The beitzah is perhaps the most visible reminder, the first of the emotional landmines on our holiday table. This year, instead of looking at that egg and thinking about the fact that I don't really have any good eggs of my own, I see the beitzah as a symbol of hope. There's something about a thin little shell containing possibility within: the act of hatching, of breaking through- this is a lesson in patience, struggle, and ultimately, hope. The egg is the idea. Its hatching is the fruition of our hopes.

Turning the pages of our haggadah, we read aloud how Pharaoh ordered the death of all Hebrew first-born. Later, the final plague results in the death of all Egyptian first-born: the profound loss of life- including Pharaoh's only son- moves him such that he releases the Hebrew slaves. I cannot imagine what it must be like to read this and have experienced any kind of pregnancy loss. I have always struggled with this part of Exodus. It speaks so clearly of almost Hammurabian retribution: you kill our first-born so too shall yours be killed. But from a theological standpoint, I suppose it illustrates that God is indiscriminate, b/c the same God who kills the Egyptian first-born is the same God that allows the first-born of his Chosen to be killed. What can we learn in this moment? Carpe diem. When someone's time is up, that's it, so make the most of the time you have.

For some of us in the ALI community, this still makes no sense, that something we've longed for could be taken away so soon. We cannot regain those lives, so we must live our own lives as best we can, yet these wounds leave scars on our hearts. As we retell the story of Exodus, we relive the pain of that scar even as we eat maror (horseradish) and karpas (vegetable) dipped in saltwater to symbolize tears, so that we as pass on our traditions even the pain of the memory is still felt. It is an almost kinesthetic form of cultural and historic education. 5000 years later we are still feeling the pain of Exodus, so it is only natural that those grieving a loss- be it at 6 weeks, 6 months, or even 6 years of age- still feel the pain. Acknowledge this pain of loss. Weave it into your story. Use it as a tool to educate and comfort others.

Even the emotional toll of adoption is featured in the Passover story, as Moses is rescued from the reeds and raised as the adopted son of the Egyptian princess. For the couple waiting to be chosen by prospective birth parents, that sense of hope and yet waiting is just as palpable as the Hebrew slaves waiting for their freedom. The Hebrews, once freed, they had to be ready to go at a moment's notice- that's why matzo is unleavened and we eat unleavened foods, as the bread didn't even have time to rise they had to flee Egypt so quickly. With domestic adoption, the same is true: everything has to be ready to go because you could be in line at the post office and get a call that you'll be placed with a child in a matter of days. So how can the prospective adoptive parent who's mind is half on the food in front of them but have their cell on vibrate in their pocket, waiting and hoping for that phone call? I recommend capitalizing on that energy, that excitement, and that hope. Channel energy into action. Offer to babysit the kids while the moms cook (might as well get a little extra practice in before the real deal, right?) Or, screw babysitting and get to work in the kitchen! Infuse your food with your energy so that your guests grow as excited with each bite as you already are. Get creative: nothing helps keep that energy moving like a little creativity. Maybe you arrange a beautiful table scape with handmade place cards, or you stitch your own matzo cover.

There are still even other areas that focus so much on family, children, legacy, and fertility, particularly the Four Questions and the Four Children. I'll get into a much more in depth look at those tomorrow.

This is by no means a comprehensive survival guide, but these are just a few things to make this holiday a little more bearable and perhaps provide a renewed context. That being said, I know this is a tough holiday for some and really can reawaken some old wounds. Like any other family gathering, if you need to bow out or only stay for a short while- do so. Ultimately, you need to do what's healthy for you and your partner. Make sure you do what you need for your own healing. I highly recommend having your spouse or a close friend read you this beautiful and invigorating guided meditation over at Ritual Well on the Kos Refuah/Cup of Healing.

For those of you cooking like fiends this weekend like I am, I wish you ovens that heat evenly, fridges and freezers that will fit all your precooked food, and short lines at the grocery store. More thoughts on Passover and infertility tomorrow.

General updates on life.

So I've come out of hibernation for a bit. It's that whole spring reawakening thing. I don't know how much I plan to update... the emotional release that was so vital and cathartic a year ago doesn't seem as relevant or pressing now.

Exciting updates...
Ari has a job! He starts Monday. He'll be in Georgia for most of the week for some paperwork and training, but it's a great job and an excellent fit for his goals and interests. And the money's not bad either ;)

I'm only 3 months away from being an Aunt! Otter just passed the 6-month mark. I'm helping with shower planning and am getting excited about starting some neat craft projects for Spudette (it's a girl).

We are moving! There's been some stirrings at my job and I need to switch buildings on campus. (We'd literally be moving 2 buildings over, maybe a hundred yards at best.) There's potentially a promotion happening with this as well. While the apartment would be bigger, and presumably the paychecks, I'm not thrilled. I'm actively job hunting, and looking to get out of student housing as soon as humanly possible. Mostly I just need to not work for my current boss and this institution.

Other updates...
Facing some interesting and tough choices, some of which need to be made as a couple, and others I need to wrestle with on my own. The first is whether we buy a house or start a family. The fact that we even need to consider this financially still angers me. Presumably, all couples should consider this, but a down-payment on a house and the cost to conceive or adopt are pretty much on par with one another. It boggles the fucking mind.

The other choice is a personal one: whether we go DE/IVF or adopt. And then if adoption, do we go domestic or international? *insert cash register sounds here* It's a deeply personal struggle, b/c as I've said many times before, I feel like pregnancy would be a healing experience for me. But adoption carries a pretty much 100% guarantee of a family. There are so many pros and cons for each, and I've been writing them out and pondering them a lot recently, b/c we need to make a decision and soon. I know- we're not even 30 yet, but seeing as either route can take some time, and that I wanted to have children basically AT age 30, we need to get the wheels turning.

This has probably been the most complex decision I've ever had to make. Ari is on board for whatever path I choose, but right now, the decision is pretty much up to me. He's leaning more toward adoption, and in some ways, so am I... it's just really hard to let go of an idea that has held such a grip on me, that I'd be able to just pop out a baby, donor egg or otherwise. I suppose when something's biologically hardwired into your brain, the decision to reject that notion should be frought with struggle.

So that's pretty much the state of the union. I'm still not sure what's going on with my doc (see my previous post) or when I'm starting HRT. Other good news: we should be getting a substantial refund again this year... I'm one of the few ppl that loves tax season.

So yeah. I'm back, I suppose. Lots of stuff on my mind as of late. Lots to ponder. In some ways, just barely keeping it all together but trying to do so with as much of a smile as possible.

Brief Updates on Life

Sitting in the BWI airport, waiting to fly home. Ari's great-aunt passed away Tuesday and we drove down from MA to NJ Wednesday night and then from NJ to MD for the funeral. I have to be at work tomorrow, so I'm flying back tonight and he's driving back in the late morning tomorrow. Aunt B's funeral was really just... hauntingly beautiful and serene. My heart breaks every time I think of Uncle N: 61 beautiful years of marriage. Ari and I lived near them when we lived in MD and made it a point to visit when we could. It was not unexpected; she was given a year to live six years ago, but she declined sharply in the last 6 months. It's just very sad, and another thing I can add to the "Things That Sucked in 2009" List. It's a long list.

On a lighter note: my sister's 2nd ultrasound went well. Things are going swimmingly for Otter and her Spud. I am excited to see her at Christmas. So far, no need for an amniocentisis, and that's wonderful news given her age.

Work is... work. It's a paycheck, housing and health insurance at this point. I have come to the firm decision I will no longer be a doormat to my bully of a supervisor, and quite frankly, I'm a better person than my supervisor and will not let my supervisor win. Bullying is not a management style- it's a personality flaw, and I'm simply not going to take the passive-aggressive bullshit anymore. I'm digging in my heels and ready to fight the fight, if need be.

Ari's been applying for some more full-time work since he knows how unhappy I am at my job. He's got two apps out right now, so if you can put the good vibes out there in the universe for him, it would be much appreciated. Also... his birthday is Monday! It'll be the 12th birthday of his I've spent with him... nuts. I have some serious shopping I need to do before then :)

On the IF front... I've been much more open to the idea of adoption rather spontaneously in the last few days. Not sure why, but maybe I'm not meant to be pg. I really worry about whether or not I could successfully carry a pregnancy to term - just a weird gut feeling I've had in the last couple of weeks. As much as it would be a healing process for me, I just don't know if it's a realistic goal. DE/IVF is scary, just in terms of what you have to go through medically, and I don't know if physically, I'm really up for that. And if it failed, or worse yet, I miscarried... the emotional and financial damage could be irreparable.

I have a regular 6-week thyroid  checkup on Monday with my RE. I'm not looking forward to it. Despite the dosage increase over the last 6 weeks, symptomatically, I feel worse. I had my b/w done yesterday (with a juicy lookin bruise on my hand... I look like a junkie) and I'm not confident that the numbers will be what I hope they will (in the 2-3 range). I'm betting they'll be over 5 again. I haven't hit my sweet spot TSH level yet, and honestly, after 9 months of treatment and yo-yo-ing on Levoxyl dosages and TSH values, I'm starting to get pretty fucking impatient. Add to the fact that my doctor basically said it's useless to try and take care of anything related to my weight right now b/c of my thyroid being unstable, and well, I'm not feeling to great about my health. I'm a terribly impatient person and I might need to seek a second opinion to see if I can't move this on a faster track. At the very least, I might need to seriously reconsider again supplementing this with some TCM and acupuncture.

Well, this wasn't brief at all. I'll write more in the coming days... I've got some interesting initial thoughts and observations on the donor selection process now that we've registered with a couple of databases online. Weird stuff, man, weird.

For now, time to board. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed tonight.

A Celebratory 100th Post

I can't believe this crept up on me so fast. I can't believe I've written 100 posts since March... nuts. (Although really, this isn't shocking; the LiveJournal I kept for years amassed almost 1200 entries in about 4 years.) In celebration of this momentous occasion, I've got a big announcement...

I'm going to be an Aunt!

I can finally let the cat out of the bag; my sister had told me weeks ago, but I was sworn to secrecy to keep it from our parents. Over Thanksgiving, they did the reveal to both sets of parents, and told their friends this past weekend. The gag order has been lifted and I'm really happy to write about it here. Our parents are of course very excited; Spud will be the first grandchild for them.

For the sake of anonymity in this blog, I'll be referring to my sister as Otter, her husband as Thor, and the baby as Spud (their name for the lil' rascal, not mine). Mom-to-be is healthy, glowing, and due in the end of June, which fits her school-year scheduled life perfectly. A lil background: my sister is 8 years older than me and they've been married for 8 years now. Thor is a totally awesome brother-in-law, and they have been gracious caretakers to one of our cats, Clio, when my current job didn't allow pets.

Here's the super-weird-almost-cosmic way I found out... Ari and I were only back from Japan a matter of days when I had a very vivid dream where Otter walked up to me on the street and told me she was 8 weeks pregnant. She also told me it was a little girl and was naming it my maternal grandmother's first and middle names. We hugged, I was excited, I woke up from a dead sleep in the middle of the night, not entirely sure if that was even real. I went back to sleep and told Ari about it the next morning. He thought that was a weird dream too.

So I IM'd her the next day, asking her how she was feeling and telling her about that funny dream I had the night before. My office phone starts ringing and it's my sister. We never call each other during the work day. After a little chit chat, she confesses she really IS pregnant, but only about 5 weeks. I am sworn to secrecy.

Freaky, huh?

But now that's she's out of the preggo closet, I'm happy to spread the news, b/c I'm wicked excited for them. And my sister is very understanding of the whole dynamic - we're both working really hard to be supportive of each other b/c at the end of the day, we're sisters. There are times when it's been really hard, but I work through it (thank god for therapy). I've got a supportive husband and parents. And recently, I've focused less on my constant pity-party for myself and channeled more of that energy into being exciting for my sister and her husband and my future neice/nephew. (Speaking of neice/nephew: why is there no gender neutral term for child of a sibling? That's when I found nibling. It sounds a little odd, but I'm all for a movement for a gender neutral term.) Instead of focusing on loss (what I don't/can't have), focusing on possibility (a nibling!): this small attitude change has had immense help in looking at the general state of affairs with regard to my IF. But every day is different, and I take it one day at a time. I'm so pumped about being an Auntie - that's right, Auntie. I've always wanted to be referred to as Auntie ever since I was little :)

For now, here's to 100 posts and I'm sure a hundred more. Let's hope the next 100 bring Ari and I closer to our dream of being parents ourselves.

Cross-Pollination Post: Decisions, Decisions...

I'm Cross-Pollinating today! For one day, bloggers in the ALI community swap posts without revealing who their guest blogger is as a part of Xpol. We sign up, we get matched, and agree to post the other blogger's post in our own blog without revealing their name/blog. To see all the other busy bees cross-pollinating today, click on the image above. The guest post follows below- I'm so happy to share my blogspace with someone who has such a great story to tell. Leave a comment and see if you can guess who my guest blogger is (and thus where my blog post is hiding today)!

"Decisions, Decisions..."

When Miriam and I were getting to know each other in that bloggy way – exploring each other’s sites and comparing the similarities and differences in our journeys, she suggested that I write about how hubby and I chose adoption and international adoption to be specific.

I think her request was brave. I know some people who have ALWAYS known that they wanted to adopt. It has nothing to do, for them, with any lack of fertility but with a dedication to help the children of the world. I’d love to say that I was that altruistic. I’d love to BE that altruistic. But the truth is that we only turned our thoughts towards adoption once our attempts to procreate had failed. Which doesn’t mean that we’ll love an adopted child any less than we would a biological one. But for a number of reasons – not the least is being the last of my line on my father’s side – it was very important to me that we at least TRY to genetically carry on our family lines.

Although I remember my frantic visit to Planned Parenthood for a pregnancy test after my first unprotected sexual experience (not sure why I was stupid enough to let that happen but the irony of that fear is certainly not lost on me!), by the time I reached my mid-20’s I think I KNEW that I wouldn’t get pregnant. And whether it was some genetic knowledge or a self-fulfilling prophecy, it turned out to be correct.

And with that knowledge, I had a plan. I was going to use a sperm donor if I was single and not yet a mother at 38 (coincidentally that is the age when my mother died. I’m not sure if I chose it for that reason or because I thought that would give me time to get pregnant before I turned 40 – because of COURSE it was going to work the first time. I never considered otherwise).

As it turned out, I wasn’t single at 38. But neither was I a mother, although numerous doctors had already said that they didn’t know why. But for a slew of reasons, we weren’t ready to dive into the wonderful world of IF treatments. And when we did, we met with a litany of chemical pregnancies, an early miscarriage, and a number of pointless cycles.

By the time we stopped trying this past January, I was 43. And adoption was already on the table as a concept. Unlike many couples I know, that ones who did copious amounts of research before deciding whether to pursue domestic (open? closed?) or international (what country?) we fell into our decision easily.

I think I spent all of two days looking into domestic foster-to-adoption. But two days is a lot if all you’re hearing are horror stories of children being returned to biological parents who are ill-equipped to care for them.

Domestic adoption probably got a week’s worth of attention (I have to say here though that when I research something, that something is WELL researched). The current vogue is to adopt openly. And I admit that there is a part of me that appreciates that in concept – the child is loved not only by their adoptive family but by their birth family who is active in their lives and of course, a child can never have too much love. And I applaud the decision that birth parents make when they decide that they must sacrifice their child to give them the best life possible.

But hubby and I both agree (him a little harsher than me) that giving up a child doesn’t mean getting all of the benefits with none of the work. Hubby and I will, more than likely, only have one child. We have (thankfully similar) pretty strict ideas on childrearing which mostly involve letting children BE children and not having to grow up too soon, etc. I think we’ll be stellar and very, very, fun parents who each have unique and different things to bring to our roles. We won’t be having a biological child but I still want a child who is, as much as any child can be, “ours.” Is that selfish? Perhaps. But I also truly believe that it’s less confusing for the child.

It might surprise you to know that I would actively support my one-day child’s search for their birth parents. But it won’t happen when that child is four or five. It will need to be their choice and something that they want to and are ready to undertake.

All of which made international adoption the clear choice for us. And as often happen for us, we fell easily into the choice of adoption for Bulgaria. When I began looking through the countries (as the designated family researcher), the Eastern Bloc countries were looking grim – expensive and demanding of a lot of in-country time - Guatemala and Ethiopia were mired allegations of children sold by their families or outright stolen from them. We were too old for other countries we looked at and my Jewishness was a strike in others.

Bulgaria jumped off the page at us for a few reasons. First off all, we’ve been there. Hubby is from the UK and I lived there with him for 4 years after we were married. Our first real vacation was to Bulgaria – someplace I never even thought of visiting. And we had a great time. The children who are put up for adoption there are typically Roma (more derogatorily referred to as Gypsy) with dark hair and eyes mirroring our own. For better or worse, the country’s adoption system which had come almost to a halt under an administration that preferred to see children living in orphanages than adopted to loving families oversees was being completely overhauled. The pricing is in the mid-range for international adoption and the in-country requirements are completely reasonable.

Was it the right choice? As I write this, we’re waiting for various bit and pieces of government approval so that we can submit our dossier and get on the waiting list. Adoptions are certainly moving faster than they were through last year under the old administration (in 2008 there were only 5 adoptions from the US as opposed to 298 in 2001) but there have been no referrals of “healthy” kids that anyone is aware of (that being said, what is considered unhealthy isn’t always as big an issue for those of us in countries with access to quality healthcare as it is for those in other countries).

Certainly only time will tell. At least all of those two week waits taught me some amount of patience. I’d like to say that we sweated this decision – that we poured over articles and called references and such. But while I’m ever-grateful to the internet and all of the information, and the few people on a listserv that I DID reach out to, we made this decision because in the end it just felt right. And I almost like to think that it found us and much as we found it.

Make your guess in the comments below, and feel free to share your thoughts on her story... after you make a guess, click here to be taken to their blog!

Show & Tell 5: My Desktop Toucan

This is my desktop toucan. In my head, I call him Toucan Sam. Original, right?

He sits just under my computer monitor. I get a strange delight looking at him every day. If he went missing from my desk, I'd be pissed, and then very, very sad. I love this little guy. I don't keep a whole lot of chotchkes on my desk: a couple of mugs for the school where I work, a bottle of hand santizer, a full sized bottle of Optimism lotion from Bath & Body Works. I have a pic of the hubby of course, but it's on my side desk area, and not in my field of vision all the time. This lil dude is.

He's from Venezuela, as you can see. My dad bought this for me a few years ago. He's a photojournalist, and was on assignment in South America. He saw this, thought of me, and brought it back. My dad used to travel a lot, all over the world in fact, and I always loved the cool lil souvenirs he brought back. That's why I was especially touched when I got this when I was in college- my dad still thought of his "little girl" when he went abroad on assignment for the first time in several years.

Toucans have always had a special place in my heart. I get the whole big schnozz thing, as I have quite the well-endowed nose myself. But when I was a kid, I had a really neat experience that has stayed with me to this day.

I was maybe 4 or 5 at most. Our den has a large window overlooking the backyard. In the far corner of the yard is our "garden" (aka, giant lawn clipping dumping ground that grows tiger lilies every summer). I happened to be looking outside at the garden and saw a HUGE black bird with a long banana yellow beak and subtle tints of blue plumage along the shiny black profile. Sweet jiminy, it was the bird on the Froot Loops box. (I knew this b/c I ate more artificial coloring and flavoring for breakfast than one child ever should.) And toucans weren't exactly part of the normal flora and fauna of New Jersey in the mid-80's.

I ran upstairs to tell my mom. By the time we got back downstairs, it had flown away. My mom of course entertained her youngest daughter's notion that "Sure honey, of course a big black toucan was in our backyard!" I saw right through this and begged my mom to believe me. Cue the waterworks, the pleading, and the fruitless wishes for the bird to return.

I know I saw a toucan, damnit. And now, I have my own Toucan Sam looking semi-quizzically at me five days out of the week.

Head on over to Mel's to see what the other kids are showing this week for Show & Tell!

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.

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?

L'shana tova, 5770

The summer of '69 (5769, that is) is now past, and we welcome in a new Jewish year. Ari and I are pretty relieved that this past year is over, as it was probably the most tumultuous one in our lives. We started the year with me in a new job, a new apartment, and my very odd stroke-esque episode that paved the way for the diagnosis I have now. There was our first anniversary, our first trans-national trip (5 days in California in January), and our first friends to have children. There was Ari's layoff. There were my diagnoses (POF and Hashi's). There were blood tests, and semen analysis, and too many hormones, too little hormones, and scrip after scrip after scrip. We lost our Nan. We hit bottom.

And as this new year begins, we are on the upswing. Ari is starting his own company (of which I will be owner, b/c not only will it then be a woman-owned business, but a minority-woman-owned business), I've essentially got a new job while remaining in the same department, my health has been stabilizing considerably in recent weeks (doc thinks we're *this* close to getting the right dosage for me), and we're heading to Japan for 2 weeks in the middle of October. Things- finally- are looking up for us.

This morning, Ari and I went to Rosh HaShanah services. It's been several years since we had each been to Rosh Hashanah services; we do Kol Nidrei for Yom Kippur every year, but we're almost always traveling for dinner with families and never make it to Rosh HaShanah services. So slap me stupid when the bulk of the Torah and Haftorah portions are the very portions for which the name of this blog derives: the stories of Sarah and Hannah, and they laugh and weep respectively, imploring to God to hear their deepest prayers for a child in their barrenness.

And their prayers are answered. It always seems to work out so neatly in the Torah.

I was not prepared for this at all this morning. The cantor spoke of how Rosh Hashanah is all about beginnings and births, and as he welcomed a Kohein for the first aaliyah, he remarked on how her aaliyah was doubly-blessed, as she was very visibly pregnant. I sat in services, my mind spinning, trying to maintain my composure. "Compartmentalize, Miri, c'mon, you can keep your shit together you can do it." My inner monologue was unrelenting. Did my eyes well up with tears? Did I zone out to my happy place for a few minutes? You bet your sweet bippy I did.

I had an appt with Dr. G yesterday. I explained that we're not financially ready to pursue ART at this point, but said we'd be happy if anything were to happen naturally, magically - miraculously, even. We're going to tweak my dosage one more time, but we think we've pretty much got it figured out. 1 more round of blood tests and I should know by early next week.

As I think of the Jewish new year, I always think of resolutions I make for myself. Every year, I promise to myself to be more Jewish, to be more engaged with my faith. Then I pledge to be a better girlfriend-fiance-wife (as the role has evolved over the years). I truly believe I'm going to get myself healthy- I say it, but I don't necessarily follow through. And this year, these resolutions are the same. But have I added one? Perhaps. Perhaps it's not a resolution, but it's an acknowledgment of that which dwells on my heart. To pray and hope for the next to impossible.

That the Book of Life may inscribe a new paragraph under our story, that like Sarah and Hannah, my supplications are heard and answered. As the year has begun on an upswing, let it continue to rise; that I may hold my head up in hope, in faith, in courage.

A sweet New Year to us all, and may we each be inscribed in the Book of Life for another year.

Baruch dayan emet.

As the stars fell, her light too, was extinguished.

Update on Ari's Grandmother

(Follow up to my most recent post.) Still no progress for Ari's grandmother. She ate yesterday- something she's barely done in 2 weeks- but no progress one way or another. She is still generally unresponsive.

Right now, Ari and I are operating in that mode where we're just waiting for the phone call. It is a conflicted place to be in.

Hospice care is simply astonishing to me. I'm the kind of person who wants to make the world right, to get my hands dirty and wade out into deep waters to make change, to heal, to repair. The idea of hospice care is simply to let nature take its own course. Ari and I have read her living will, and this is in fact, her wishes. These were her wishes made several years ago, in fact, while she was still quite lucid and mobile. We may not intervene- all we can do, legally, is stand by.

For ENFP & INFP personalities such as Ari and me, respectively, this course of (in)action is contrary to our personal beliefs and values.

Yesterday I went shopping for a new dress for the inevitable. I felt so shameful doing it, but as Ari explained, when it comes to Jewish funerals, there just isn't time to go out and get new clothes if you don't have them for the funeral. The deceased must be buried as quickly as possible. I felt so awful, like I'm willing this kind of fate upon her and yet, it was a matter of practicality.

FFS, she's not dead yet.

In the end, I didn't buy anything. I have a dress, and Ari just did a ton of dry-cleaning so I have a cardigan to wear as well. If anything, I just need to pick up a pair of new shoes.

What it comes down to is that I'm not standing here, arms folded, tapping my toe in impatience. I'm here waiting, continuing with life as normally as possible. And I pray. I pray a lot. I don't ask for G-d to be quick in His decision. I simply want her to be comfortable, to be happy, to be at peace.

B/c if there's nothing else I can do, I can do this much.