November 26, 2010

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.

November 25, 2010

Thankful

Behold my awesome hand turkey makin' skills.
On this day of Thanksgiving, I give thanks...

For health: Despite everything I've been through this last year and a half, I'm still relatively healthy otherwise. I have learned from and been humbled by the wonder of the human body. I marvel at its intricacy.

For the love of my life: Every day with you is a blessing and a gift, love. I feel like the luckiest gal in the whole wide world that you chose me.

For the love of family: I'm so thankful to be surrounded by a family that is so loving and supportive. And we're growing - happy first turkey day to my niece! Your auntie will teach you that the best part of the meal is putting in a smidge of soy sauce into your honey mustard spread to make the turkey taste divine.

For the love of friends: You are each treasures to me. I keep a pretty close circle of friends and I hold you dearly in my hearts.

For abundance: I'm so thankful that 2010 is turning out to be so much better than 2009. Where last year was full of losses and travails, this year has brought us immense abundance: Larry's new job, my promotion, everything with my video and awards, Larry's increasing success with his LLC, our house. We have really been blessed.

For community: I'm thankful that you've found this blog, that you've watched and shared my video, that you keep reading about our journey and sticking by us. It's this community that has brought me such healing, compassion, and support. I just want to reach out and give each one of you a great big internet hug to thank you for being so awesome.

For country: When I read unsettling news of things like armed conflict in the Koreas, or civil unrest in the streets of France last month, or the cholera epidemic of Haiti - I am very thankful to have been born and and live in the country I do. I'm thankful for every citizen who elects to serve this country and defend its freedoms and interests.

For faith: It's what has kept me going. I am moved and thankful for the touches of the Divine: a harvest moon, the sisterhood of women in my life, the birth of a new family member, the elegant workings of the human body, being spared from a potentially devastating fire, the smell of the salt air when I drive through the marshes into work.

And we remember those that no longer sit at the table: Granny, Nan and Pop - of blessed memory. I miss you each so much.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

November 24, 2010

A stack of books

...for me to listen.

I love my Audible account. Listening to audiobooks on my way into work makes the time fly. My husband and I are our account; we're able to do so by racking up tons of credits. Instead of carrying a stack of books on the plane and dragging them around the beaches next week* I just bring my iPhone and hit play.

*Oh yeah, we're going on a cruise next week. Details in Saturday's post.

I've downloaded several titles- more than I'll ever listen to in one week, but enough so that if I want variety, it's there.

Right now I'm listening to The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson, the second of the Millenium trilogy. Yes, it's as good as everyone says. Seriously dark content- do be forewarned- but immersive and irresistable. I finally broke down and watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo; I had promised myself I would wait to watch the movies until I'd finished the books, but now it's strangely satisfying to picture the actors in my head as I listen. Thankfully the pace of this second book picks up considerably faster than Dragon Tattoo.

I've also got Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro on tap. This was recently made into a film with Keira Knightley and Carey Mulligan. On all appearances it looks like a period, turn of the century English boarding school story, but upon closer inspection, it's actually a dystopian sci-fi piece. I won't spoil it, but I made the mistake of reading more about the film and kind of know what it's all about, but it's received sweeping reviews so I thought I'd give it a whirl.

Other audiobooks in my queue:

The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. In short: corn is in everything. I totally get it. But as a foodie, this is apparently a very important book to read. Similarly, I want to listen to...

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. Unfortunately, after previewing the author reading her own work, the pace is so staggeringly slow that I'll actually have to read the book rather than listening to it. (This is also how Twilight didn't make the cut. The narrator's nasally voice was a total turn off. Also, after listening to about 5 minutes from each book in the series, I realized just how awful the writing is and I just can't do it to myself. I'll watch the movies, but that's it.)

The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown. I know, I know - same plot, same characters, different conspiracy theory. However, I find his books like a good popcorn flick. Also, it's about Freemasonry so I can appreciate the themes.

And finally, Room by Emma Donahue. It's a new release and an interesting premise: it's told in the narrative of a 5-year old boy named Jack who's been locked in a single room all his life by his Ma and under the oppressive shadow of Old Nick. And then one night, Ma and Jack escape, and the tale unfolds from there.

What are y'all reading or listening to?

November 23, 2010

We Were the Class of 2000

If you're here from ICLW, welcome! Please check out my Open Interview itnro post to ask me your questions and then check back this Sunday to see the answers!


This Saturday is my ten year high school reunion.

Just before we graduated high school, we learned that we should always wear our sunscreen. We are the millennials: we grew up on My Little Ponies, New Kids on the Block, and NES. We grew up with slap bracelets around our wrists and can appreciate the current Silly Bandz fad. We loved trolls but think Furbies were and are creepy. Our DARE officers warned us about the dangers of stamps with attractive cartoon characters on them. We were tying yellow ribbons round our old oak trees when we were in 5th grade during our first round in the Gulf. We can remember when Germany was both East and West and grew up in the shadow of the Cold War but by the time we were in middle school, the Cold War just seemed so "retro" to us.

Most of us were probably in 7th grade lunch when O.J. Simpson was acquitted and I think we were all pretty much second-hand embarrassed for the Clinton family. Our parents may or may not have withdrawn all of their money from the banks in anticipation of Y2K. We found ourselves making exit plans from our homerooms in a post-Columbine world. And just when we thought the world couldn't get any more fucked up, we went to college, spent a year getting comfortable, and then Sept. 11th happened, just a week or two into our third semesters of college. And we went to war in the Gulf again. Up until just a few years ago, Hurricane Andrew was the most significant natural disaster of our young lives, until Katrina, the Indonesian tsunami, and the Haitian earthquakes quickly blotted those marks from our memory. We were too young to remember the Challenger but Columbia is still fresh in our minds. And we always stayed away from open wells, lest we end up like Baby Jessica.

We were the kids on the brink of the millennium, the Class of 2000. And this Saturday is our ten year reunion.

. . .

In the age of Facebook, as one of my fellow classmates reminded me recently, a reunion seems kind of silly. If we want to see what's going on in someone's life, we simply friend them online. I've learned from FB that a good number of us are married. And of course, a good number of us have kids. I've been lapped already by many. What's more stinging sometimes are when you realize that friends from college who are younger that you have lapped you. I know it doesn't matter, but it still rubs raw.

I thought for sure by my 10th reunion I'd be married with at least one child by now, whether out topside or heating in the oven. "Outlook not so good" says my prognosticating pool ball.

So shocker if I suddenly don't want to engage my 18 year old self's sense of jealousy and loathing of the women I always found myself competing with in high school, those popular girls who you knew would make ridiculously beautiful children with those popular guys. And it's those same girls who are organizing the event. (I know, I know- it's statistically solid that at least 1 out of every 8 of those popular girls faces infertility, but high school drama dies hard.) So a $100 per couple ticket, no food, and a venue that makes so sense in terms of location isn't my idea of fun. If I wanted to keep in touch with you since high school, I've pretty much already extended that effort.

And that's why I'm not going. Instead, I'm staging an anti-reunion.

I put out a Facebook event page inviting folks to the diner down the street from our high school instead of driving into to Philly where we have to pay tolls to cross the bridge and attempt to find parking on a Saturday night of a holiday weekend. It's at a reasonable hour- 6pm until we're done as opposed to 9pm-2am; this was mostly self-serving, as I have a 6am flight to Miami the next morning. I invited my core group of friends from high school- not just my fellow 2000-ers, but my friends who were grades above and below mine. I meant it mostly for my fellow choir divas and band geeks, but as I've left it open for pretty much anyone to invite, I've got a pretty good number of people who are just as annoyed with the scheduled 10 Year Reunion logistics as I am who are now attending.

It's kind of refreshing, really.

So while I'm still cringing in anticipation of the "here's a picture of my kids" and "oh, I'm not drinking because we've got another one on the way" - at least this will be with a group of people that I truly cared about 10 years ago, as opposed to standing in a room full of people I can barely tolerate even 10 years later. And while I totally recognize that I'm still just as wildly successful without kids just 10 years out from high school graduation, I still have a nostalgic pout on my face and a heavy sigh about it all.

But I'll get over it.

And if all else fails, I'll just show up as a Secret Agent Cowboy Millionaire to my anti-reunion.

November 22, 2010

11% Towards My Goal!

So far I've raised $180* for my Fall Fertile Fundraiser for RESOLVE of New England - I'm 11% of the way there! I'd love to double or even triple that by Thanksgiving - think I can do it?

I think so! (Especially with your help!)

$2000 still seems like a long way off, but that's only 91 people willing to donate just $20 each. And even $10 will help... hell, even $5.

I know it's tough times and folks are cash strapped - myself included. (What's this "mortgage" you speak of? Kidding. We have auto-pay.) As we head into the season of being thankful, making a charitable contribution is an excellent way to say thanks to an organization that does so much. It's nice to put that kind of goodness out there, because I believe goodness begets goodness.

Don't have the cash this week to make a contribution? Tweet about this fundraiser instead (Help 1000s living with #infertility - donate 2day for @miriamshope's Fertile Fall Fundraiser http://bit.ly/cp0Cwq Pls RT!), share it on Facebook via my Fundrazr page, or write a blog post about it and encourage your readers and followers to contribute on your behalf.

It's that whole spreading goodness thing again :)

To contribute, click on the image below. It'll take you to my Fundrazr page:



Thank you for helping to make this fundraiser a success!


*I know my Fundrazr page says I've raised only $105, but I've received other donations online outside of that app so it won't total those contributions. I've tried adjusting it manually, but I can't. Still, donating via my Fundrazr page is probably the easiest way to contribute. so, c'est la vie.

November 21, 2010

November's ICLW & Open Interview

Welcome to November's ICLW!

(November's whoseewhatsee you say? More info here.)


I thought I'd shake it up a bit for my 1-year anniversary of participating in ICLW. Instead of me spewing a bunch of random facts about myself, I'll let you drive the bus. Take a quick look around the blog, or read my old intro posts here: September '10, July '10, June '10, May '10, April '10 and November '09. Anything you want to know more about? Ask me!

That's right: for this ICLW, you ask the questions you want to know about me. It's an open interview where you get to interview me. I'll post the answers on the last day of ICLW on Sunday morning, so you have until Friday night to ask away. Yanno, so I have time to choose the questions and answer them. And if you want to find out the answers, you'll have to come back here on the last day of ICLW! (Ah, what you did there - I see it.)

You can ask me silly things (Question: Brad Pitt or George Clooney? Answer: You'll find out on Friday), serious things (Q: What's your take on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? A: Umm...) or whatever you like. And if you want to test the waters and ask something really personal, go for it. I might answer it, I might not... but you'll never know if you don't ask!

Get your questions in by Thursday night and Happy Commenting!
 


Have you donated yet to my Fertile Fall Fundraiser?
Even $10 will help benefit RESOLVE of New England.
Help me reach my goal of $2000 by December 30th, 2010.
Click here to donate now and help spread the word!

November 20, 2010

The Best Pretzels. Ever.

It's time for another IF-Free Zone post. Shocker: it's about food.

Larry and I are self-proclaimed foodies. We like to cook and we love to go out and eat. I have always fancied myself a good cook: I can make some tasty sauces and I'm not afraid to dabble in spices. The dishes I make best tend to be entrees. I make a killer tomato sauce, and honey dijon chicken is so simple, and so delish on a Friday night. I love it. I also can execute complex desserts: chocolate ganache with candied orange peels, for example. I know, I know - try not to drool.

Larry's much more adventurous: pork chops, roasted chicken, brussel sprouts.

I'm sorry, I need to take a minute to talk about brussel sprouts:
They are... amazing. I never in my life thought I'd be cooking them, much less a Rachel Ray recipe for brussel sprouts but good G-d, they are delish. We were lucky enough to find baby brussel sprouts, and they're much sweeter and more tender than their teenaged cabbage siblings. Bacon, shallot, chicken stock BAM! You have one helluva side dish.

Right, back to the paragraph at hand.

Larry's also the default steak-cooker in our house. But he's also mastered the one kitchen role with which I still struggle: baking. Sure, I make a mean sugar cookie (easiest cookie to make ever), but he makes chocolate chip cookies from scratch. He bakes a great challah. His cakes are light and fluffy (except for that diabetic no-sugar birthday cake he made me years back. That was kind of a disaster. He didn't realize it was a diabetic recipe until too late in the process).

I've never considered myself a good baker. My challah is always too dense. I've never made cookies other than sugar cookies. And the banana bread I tried to make two weeks ago?
To get a sense of scale:
This is a 9" dinner plate. The loaf weighs about 2lbs.
So... the recipe called for a bundt pan. I didn't have one, so I thought my silicone loaf pan would do. I filled the batter to the edge because I didn't think it would rise, not realizing that baking soda is a levening agent. I should have really used 2 loaf pans. Instead, I ended up with Attack of the Giant Banana Bread:

Wait, who's attacking what?
This is a common picture pose for me, actually.
And no joke - it took almost 2 hours to bake and it STILL wasn't done all the way through. I cut the loaf in half and brought it to work. I mean, it tasted okay, but not great. A bit... doughy.

Baking FAIL.

And then Larry discovered Working Class Foodies, quite possibly the neatest food vlog out there. And we found a recipe for homemade soft pretzels. Now, to be fair - our friend Claire had gotten us turned onto homemade pretzels because she makes some BANGIN' brown sugar based pretzels from scratch. They are pretty incredible. Her recipe is metric, so she has to reconvert everything when she makes it, so sometimes the measurements might be off between batches. That's what lead us to go looking for another pretzel recipe and wow... they're good. Different than Claire's, but equally as good.

These pretzels are also the first baking foray I've made that have come back successful, delicious, and leaving my guests wanting more! I made these for Halloween and they lasted, maybe 10 minutes on the table.

Here's the whole recipe in action:


 The only drawback to Working Class Foodies is that they don't write down their recipes; they're always contained in the videos themselves. So as I was making them, I had the laptop on the counter, rewinding and pausing. My dear readers, I will save you this trouble :)

Working Class Foodies' Homemade Soft Pretzel Recipe
Seriously, they are stupid easy and wicked fun to make.

 You'll need...
  • 1 packet/tsp of dry active yeast
  • 1.5 cups warm water
  • 1 TBSP of sugar
  • 2 tsp kosher salt
  • 4.5 cups all purpose flour
  • 4 TBSP melted butter
  • 1 TSSP veggie oil (to coat your bowl)
  • 10 cups water
  • 2/3 cup baking soda 
Directions:
  1. Dissolve sugar and salt into warm water. Add yeast. Allow to proof and get frothy for about 5-10 minutes.
  2. Once the yeast has proofed, add butter and yeast mixture to flour. Form into shaggy dough.
  3. Flour a work surface and knead dough until smooth, about 5-10 minutes. Place into bowl rubbed with veggie oil. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and allow to double in size, about 1 hour. You might want to preheat your oven to 450° and set your bowl on the stove; the warmth helps it rise.
  4. Preheat your over to 450° if you haven't already. Add baking soda to 10 cups of water and bring to a fast rolling boil. 
  5. Once doubled in size, flour your work surface and knead for another 5 minutes. Divide into 8-12 pieces. We ended up with about 10. 10 makes HUGE pretzels.
  6. Roll pieces into 2' logs, about an inch thick. Make a U, cross the ends, twist once, press ends down into bottom of U. Tada! Pretzel shape.
  7. Place pretzels on baking sheet or place to get them out of your way.
  8. Once you've made all your pretzels and the water is boiling, carefully and gently add them to the water, one by one. Don't overcrowd and take each one out after about 30 seconds.
  9. Place boiled pretzels on greased parchment paper on baking sheet. Sprinkle with course salt to taste. (Optional: you can add an egg wash before you salt them, but I didn't it without the egg wash and it worked fine. It just makes them look fancier.)
  10. Bake pretzels for 12-14 minutes, rotating halfway through. Take out, slather with mustard, dip into cheese, or eat them as is. Delish!
These go excellently with Sunday football. Enjoy!

November 19, 2010

"And miles to go before I sleep."

I think it's time for another...


C25K: And miles to go...

Today will be Week 2, Day 3 of the C25K challenge that Larry and I are doing together. Last Friday, (Week 1, Day 3) was hard. If it weren't for Larry jogging by my side, slowing his pace, and cheering me on, I don't think I would have finished. Come Monday, it was a different story. I was jogging for a slightly longer clip at a time (90 seconds instead of 60 seconds) and went for my first solo run. It was definitely tough, but I didn't hit quite the wall that I did the previous run. I felt really proud of myself for managing to run on my own through my neighborhood.

Wednesday was wonderful- again, tough, but rewarding. I even did my run on my lunch break at work, meeting a friend of mine at the track behind my office. Claire was such a good sport- she's a week behind on the program, and when she accidentally dropped her phone and lost her training app progress, she kept up with my week's program in spurts. It was a great way to break up the work day (thank G-d for extra anti-perspirant and body spray) and I felt pretty amazing and productive for the rest of the day.

Larry is out of town at a trade show in NYC, so after working a 15 hour day on Wednesday, he couldn't run. We made a promise to each other  that if either one of us was out of town for a run day, we'd still run. So he ran yesterday to make up for it and we'll run together tonight after work. I was so proud of him for running yesterday morning, despite his hectic work schedule and unfamilar terrain. (Apparently, running in Manhattan is a beast.)

This week's routine is just a smidge higher in intensity than last week's: 5 minute warmup, jog for 90 seconds, walk for 2 minutes. Repeat for 20 minutes, 5 minute cooldown. So in a given run, I've been jogging for 9 minutes spread out over the half hour. Next week it ramps up, I'm still jogging a total of 9 minutes in a given program, but 6 of those minutes are in 3 minute clips- should be interesting.

So far I've run a total of 6.55 miles. I'm averaging about 1.75 miles in my 30 minutes, more than half of a 5k.The great thing about this program is that in about 8 weeks, I should be doubling that mileage in the same amount of time.

I'm looking forward to that challenge. For the first time in my life, I am really psyched about accomplishing a very tangible fitness goal.

Harry Potter 7, pt.1: ...before I sleep.

I went with my friend Charlotte last night to see the first installment of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. There's a lot of fun to be had at midnight showings, especially for a franchise as epic as HP. There were cloaks and burgundy and gold striped ties, scarves, and hats, as well as lightning tattoos and drumsticks doubling as wands. I opted for a more practical solution: pajamas. The movie runs about 2.5 hours, so my plan was to roll into bed once I got home. Getting up this morning for work was brutal.

It's a really excellent film that stays rather close to the book (including the fairly boring stretches of wandering through the wilderness a la Lord of the Rings). If you haven't read the books, I imagine this film would have been a nightmare. There's no catching up to speed on the previous 904 minutes of film. Either you know what a horcrux is or you're drowing in 6 movies' worth of established mythology.

I won't spoil any surprises, but there is a scene from the book I had completely forgotten about toward the end of the film - seeing it onscreen was both visually satisfying (yummy Daniel Radcliff) and kind of weird, because as I realized last night... I've been watching these actors grow up for over a decade. The Harry Potter films have spanned my 20's. It was almost awkward to see such a "racy" scene. But it's a nice payoff to mounting tensions throughout the film. (Especially if you're like me and perpetually took issue with certain main characters' romantic choices. I'll just leave it at... Team Harry would have been epic.)

The film ends rather abruptly, but I suppose it's really the best place to halve the two films. I'm kind of going nuts to see part 2. And considering how emotional I became at several moments in last night's installment, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a wreck at end of it all. Like I was for LOST (nigh inconsolable) and Battlestar Galactica (quite moved but still annoyed at some of Ron Moore's obvious copouts).

In sum: Harry Potter 7, pt. 1 is a really excellent film- more of a dark series of character studies than action driven linear plot. It follows quite closely to the book and I think for those of us who are invested in the franchise on both page and screen, it will be a very satisfying adaptation. I'm glad I didn't see it with Larry last night... because now it gives me an excuse to go see it again!

I'm going to try very, very hard not to fall asleep at my desk. Getting to bed at 3am and up by 7:30am are not sitting well with me at all, and this iced coffee isn't doing much either... *thud, snores, drool*

Happy Friday all.

November 18, 2010

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.



Photo by Steve Johnson via Flickr.

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.

November 17, 2010

Fill in the Blank

I've got a project brewing, and I need your help. Sorry to be cryptic, but that's all I can say for now. Help me finish this sentence:

"Infertility is ___________."

It can be a word, a phrase, or even a few sentences. The only thing I care about is that it's honest and comes from your heart. I want to hear from you and your experience. I'm cross-posting this on Twitter and my Facebook page, so feel free to share your thoughts on any of these platforms.

Lets see how big we can make this list.

November 16, 2010

Reminder: Fertile Fall Fundraiser is still going on!


So far I've raised $35 for my Fertile Fall Fundraiser for RESOLVE of New England. I've still got a long way to go, but I'm confident we can make it. I've decided to extend my fundraiser until December 30, 2010 - that's a month and a half from now. $1965 in a month and a half? Totally doable! That's ~$44 a day. That's just 4 people a day, willing to donate 10(ish) dollars a day.

I think the issue is that I need to spread the word, so here are a couple of tweets to help out the campaign:

I just donated to @miriamshope's Fertile Fall Fundraiser for @resolveneweng - have you? #infertility http://bit.ly/cp0Cwq

$10 could help thousands with #infertility - donate 2day for @miriamshope's Fertile Fall Fundraiser http://bit.ly/cp0Cwq Pls RT!

How are other ways you can help? Besides the obvious way of contributing, you can blog about it on your own blogs. If you do, please leave a link to your post in the comments. Just think, fellow NaBloPoMo-ers - instant blog post! Spreading the word is key, so whether you blog, tweet, or Facebook it, you're helping to share this fundraiser with potentially hundreds of other potential contibutors. Please and thank you for doing so :)

5 Reasons to Donate Right Now:
  1. Donating is like putting a little good out there into the Universe and when you put good out there, you get good back.
  2. Make a contribution to give hope to others like you who are battling infertility.
  3. Make a contribution in honor of your children, to celebrate your victory if you've conquered your infertility.
  4. RESOLVE of New England is a pretty kickass organization with tons of resources, education, peer led support groups, and more - and kickass orgs need kickass funding.
  5. You're an awesome friend, fellow blogger, reader, and supporter!
Now that you're feeling totally inspired, you can donate via the Fundrazr app on my Facebook page. If you're unable to donate (believe me, we're feeling the economic crunch too), please consider at least spreading the word via your own blogs, Facebook, and Twitter. You can snag the graphic above and link it to my Fundrazr page directly via the bit.ly link above.


Call it a mitzvah. Call it your good deed for the day.
Whatever you call it, it's doing something good. And doing good feels good.

So... do you feel like doing some good today

I hope you do and thank you for supporting this cause!

November 15, 2010

I should be running...

...but I'm being super lazy and blogging right now.


NaBloPoMo is half over today (thank G-d!) and ironically enough, I pretty much had nothing to write about today. This has been the challenge of NaBloPoMo - finding something to write about every single day of this month. To be fair, I'm cheating slightly. For example, my post Saturday about the IF-Free Zone and Sunday's Infertility Blogger APB posts? Both were written last week and scheduled to post this weekend, because I didn't feel like writing this weekend. I've scheduled out my topics for most of the month, but I have a few days here and there- like today- where I didn't have a topic lined up. I wanted to build in room for non-premeditated things of interest in my life, but today was just so blah.

Like I mentioned, I should be running. Today starts week 2 of c25k, and according to Larry, week 2 day 1 is hella hard. I have to go back to work (30 minutes away) at 10pm, so I've got about another 2 hours before I miss my window to run at all today.

I totally don't want to run. But I HAVE to run or this program will fall apart. It's tricky because I've yet to run solo, and Larry is out of town this week starting tomorrow. We ran separately today because of our crazy evening schedules. We'll have to run separately again Wednesday, but presumably we can run together after work on Friday.

Hmmm... I wonder how many sentences I can type before I run out of time to run today?

. . .

In other news, I had a doctor's appointment with my new primary care physician. Since I haven't seen Dr. Skinny Bitch in forever, and Dr. G is pretty much useless, it was time to get a new PCP. I checked out the Thyroid Top Docs list and lo and behold, there's a great doctor who fits into my commute between work and home. We were a bit rushed; after going through my medical history he ordered a barrage of blood tests, and I needed to get to the lab before they closed at 5pm. Basically, he reiterated that my main issues seem to be thyroid, POF/PCOS (I was surprised he didn't completely rule out PCOS from my potential list of current issues), and allergies.

Looks like it's time for another Dr. codename! I'll call him Dr. Armour, since he's the first doctor to suggest throwing a little T3 into my thyroid med mix. My numbers look great but I still feel like poo (exhaustion, brain fog, excessive hair shedding), and given my high anti-thyroid antibody counts, he thinks I'm a good candidate for a combo of T4 (Levoxyl) and T3 (Armour Thyroid).

It took 30 minutes in the lab (well past when they closed), 3 stick sites (thank you, inept phlebotomist who clearly was more concerned about going home on time than getting it right the first try), and 7 tubes of blood to finally get everything Dr. Armour ordered. Standard stuff: comprehensive metabolic panel, thyroid workup, cholesterol check. But he also added in a test for genetic thrombophilia (clotting disorder) and a test for Celiac's Disease.

Apparently, Celiac's Disease is pretty common among both the hypothyroid and POF crowds. Also- random fact- it affects the Irish the most. Dr. Armour was surprised when I told him that I'm half-Irish. "With a name like Keiko," he said, "it's a pretty safe bet that's why you've never been tested, because otherwise, you fit all of the criteria."

If I do have Celiac's, I have no idea what this means. I could kill more time not running by asking Dr. Google what she knows about Celiac's, but my guilt is eating away at me. I really need to run.

So, we'll see what the results come back with. $10 says I have Celiac's. Anyone else willing to take that bet? Also, anyone out there have Celiac's and want to share their experience in the comments?

Posts of substance this week to follow. Promise :)

November 14, 2010

Have You Seen These Bloggers?

One of Carolyn Keene's lesser known titles.
I was recently pruning my Google Reader and I realized I have a bunch of folks that have stopped posting for whatever reason, and just wondering if folks might know where they are or what's become of them. I'd like to know because, well... I care.

I'm issuing an immediate Infertility Blogger APB for the following bloggers:
There were three other bloggers that I tracked down through contact info they had posted on their blogs, and thought I'd share their updates in case you were wondering where they went too.

Amy from I Never Thought It Made Sense Anyway is happy to report that she is pursuing domestic adoption but is no longer blogging: "I received such great support from the ALI community during all my trials, and blogging really helped me get through some tough times." I'm glad it looks like there's some sense of closure and resolution for her.

I also emailed Uinipooh from I Am Woman.... Right? and learned that she is traveling the world for work right now, so blogging has been on hold while she's off jetsetting. I'm looking forward to when she comes back.

Mission to Baby is kind of on indefinite hiatus right now from blogging. She last posted in January, but she's quite active on Twitter @kittygirltx, so if you'd like to keep up on her journey, you can follow her there.

If you have updates on any of these Missing Bloggers, please share in the comments. Also, if you have a name to add to the Infertility Blogger APB, please add their names and a link to their blog as well.

November 13, 2010

The IF-Free Zone

Texture credit: DELLipo™
Sometimes, all this talk about infertility and babies and doctor's appointments can be a bit much, so I created a blog post label "IF-free zone." Because sometimes, I just don't feel like writing about infertility - even the more positive aspects like volunteering and advocacy. This girl just needs a break sometimes.

I also block out time in my daily schedule where I'm going to enjoy myself and not think about the soul-crushing depression of my barrenness. I make sure to set aside non-blogging time as IF-free zones. I encourage you to do the same, because it works wonders. Not every conversation I have with my husband has to be about infertility or baby things. Sometimes we just want to talk about that funny article we read on Cracked.com that day or why I think just the phoenetics of the words Windows Phone are inferior to the fluidity of how iPhone just rolls off the tongue.

So what do I write about in my IF-Free Zone? Well, let's check the label. Apparently I have 16 posts labeled IF-free zone prior to this. I've written about traveling, camping, my hots for Tony Bourdain, getting in shape, dieting (ha ha, that totally failed), memories of Sept. 11th, and a lotta stuff about food.

I guess the point of my IF-free zone is to say, look: there's more to me that just my infertility. In fact, let me showcase the things that give me pleasure, give me purpose, or I just feel the need to get up on my soapbox and talk about for little bit, because it matters to me in some way.

So I've decided to make a little graphic to emphasize beyond just the blog post label. If you want it, feel free to "right click + save as" and slap it up on your own IF-free zone blog moments.

I hope you find it as freeing as I have... because we are ALL more than just our infertility.

November 12, 2010

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!

November 11, 2010

Infertility Veterans

I have my second opinion appointment today at 3pm; I'll have details on how it went tomorrow. Scheduling worked out great as my office is closed for Veteran's Day... which got me thinking.

At what point do you become an Infertility Veteran?

It's a question I'm putting out there to the masses, and I'd love to hear what people have to say. I'll try to respond to comments as they come in throughout the day.

Are you a veteran by going through a treatment cycle? What if you opt to go straight to adoption in lieu of treatment? What if you decide not to resolve with children - are you a verteran then? Are you a veteran by resolving on the first try? Are you a veteran after a miscarriage? Can folks experiencing secondary infertility be veterans? I'm putting the questions out there and I'd love to hear what other questions you have.

Tell me readers: what does it mean to be an Infertility Veteran? And what should our badge be? How could and should we honor our own Infertility Veterans?

*On a serious note: to all of you who have served, who have loved ones who have served: thank you for your service to this country. There may be things I may not be particularly thrilled about when it comes to American defense policy, but I will say this: I have the utmost respect for anyone that is willing to put their life on the line for the sake of our country and freedoms. I have family and friends who are deployed, and there's nothing I want more than for every single one of them to come home safe.

Truth.
Happy Veteran's Day all, and let's get a discussion going on what it means to be an infertility veteran!

November 10, 2010

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.

November 9, 2010

These shoes were made for runnin'

Let the madness begin.
It's official. Yesterday marked the start of our Couch to 5K program. We are fully committed to this project now. Especially since we spent $200 on running shoes for the both of us alone.

But seriously, how could I say no to shoes that were both super comfy AND super cute?
In an effort to keep myself motivated, I'm also publicly sharing my weight because this is going to keep me motivated. So, starting out, I weigh 188.4 lbs. I'm only 5"2" and my BMI is 34. A little public self-shaming will go a long way. In fact, we even posted our weights on Facebook and Twitter. Dear readers, keep us in check!

Week 1, Day 1 of C25K is complete. Our 30-minute session last night consisted of a 5 minute warmup, and then alternating 60-second bursts of jogging and 90 second walkings for 20 minutes, followed by a 5 minute cooldown. (For a complete overview of the how C25K works, check out the full running program here.)

I laced up my new shoes, changed into my $35 sports bra (I am willing to pay extra to keep my gals from hitting me in the face while I run) and we headed off to the indoor track where I work since Mother Nature pretty much conspired against us from running outdoors yesterday.

I will not lie: I was huffing and puffing, but the alternating pace kept me from keeling over. The C25K iPhone app we downloaded worked great! I managed to jog for a total of about 8-10 minutes over the course of the training session. And by switching from jogging to walking, it really helped to give me a sense of focus as I anticipated the jogging sections and looked forward to the relief of walking again. Note to self: use my inhaler before we start running. That $35 sports bra? It keeps my gals in check but I can hardly breathe! Afterward, some nice deep stretching to (hopefully) keep me from hurting too bad tomorrow. I don't know how much distance we covered; I'll probably start keeping track of that next week.

No matter how tough this is going to get, and it will get tougher - I've got a reason to stay motivated and focused. Forget getting healthy. Forget losing weight. I can do this because this is a piece of cake compared to what Edison Peña underwent just to achieve at the New York Marathon on Sunday.

You see, Edison was one of the fine gentlemen trapped underground for two months in the Chilean mine accident. And yet, he still managed to train for the New York City Marathon despite being hundreds of miles underground, because he had been marathon training for years, and he wasn't about to let a bajillion pounds of earth ready to collapse on him at any moment stop him from training. He sawed off the ankles of his steel-toed workboots and ran laps of up to six miles in their confined space underground - every day.

And this past Sunday, Edison Peña finished the New York City Marathon in just 5 hours, 40 minutes.

I have NO reason to even think about giving up on this. And every time I start to get discouraged about this, I just have to keep picturing Edison running toward the finish line. In fact, when I felt myself starting to hurt in my arches, my breaths coming shorter, feeling my face flush and the sweat start to drip down my brow, I just kept repeating to myself, to the pat pat pat pat rhythm of my feet:

"Edison Peña. Edison Peña. Edison Peña."

It's all about the finish line. (Image via Getty Images.)

November 8, 2010

What's your Creme de la Creme for 2010?

Mel over at Stirrup Queens is the host of a wonderful blog recognition program where we as a community select our own best post for the year. On January 1, 2011, Mel will then feature them in a list of all our best posts. It's the best of the best in the ALI community: it's the Creme de la Creme! And this year marks year number five.

The Best of the Adoption/Loss/Infertility Blogs of 2010
It's a pretty amazing list once it all goes live, and it's exciting to see what various bloggers see as their best posts for the year. Here's my 2009 Creme de la Creme submission. And I just submitted my post for the 2010 list... but of course I'm keeping it under wraps until the list goes up in January! So take a look back at your year and consider which post you'd like to show off. There are already 82 partipants (well, 83 if you count me) - will you be next?



I've only raised $35 so far, and I've got $1965 to go!
Who wants to help out this important cause?
There's still plenty of time to donate!

November 7, 2010

RESOLVE of New England Annual Conference Recap

For all the nearly minute-by-minute details, check out yesterday's live blog here.

Now that I've had nearly a whole day to digest the conference... let me sum it up for you: wow. We left bright and early and had a long day ahead of us. Eight hours of discussing infertility can be pretty exhausting, and I won't lie: it was. Yet at the end of the day I felt exhilarated.

We officially had more attendees this year than last year; we even had close to 20 walk-in registrants! I don't know the final number, but I think we were just over 200 attendees. I finally got to meet (and spend more than 2 minutes talking to) some fabulous bloggers, including Melissa from Stirrup Queens and Jes from Baby Bump Bound. I also met a couple of readers - shoutouts to Moira and Victoria! We had folks coming from Vermont and Maine and Boston and Quincy and Schenectady, New York.

The most profound fact that I realized at the end of the day, however, was realizing that just last year, Larry and I were coming as wide-eyed, overwhelmed, newly diagnosed attendees. This year, we came back as volunteers and the experience was much more different for us this time around; in a good way, of course.

I experienced both blinder and reverse blinder effects. Last year, I was wearing blinders on my emotional experience; I was looking through a tunnel of my own pain and grieving with only minimally reaching out to others. This year, as a volunteer, the blinders came off. In interacting with so many other people: attendees, other volunteers, vendors, and speakers, I saw a much broader emotional spectrum. Sure, I still saw that same pain, grief, and even frustration, but I think my role as a volunteer, combined with my recognizability from my video, there was a greater sense of openness, of connection with people there. Last year it took all I had to be able to open up and share in the last session of the day, "Dealing with the Outside World." This year, I was sharing everything from my upcoming 2nd opinion appointment to the ways I've been able to cope- and not cope- in the last year.

By that same token, last year, I felt like I was inundated with an overload of information. This year, I had my information-gathering blinders on. Since I didn't attend every session and was concentrating on a) making sure I was performing my duties b) connecting and networking with folks and c) live blogging throughout the day, my attentions were divided and so I feel like I walked away with substantially less information this year. But that's okay - like I said above, the connections alone I made with people were worth the experience.

I also talked with a fellow RESOLVE of New England member about the vibe this year - definitely a different vibe. We both agreed that last year there were lots more couples appearing stressed out at the end of the day. This year: smiles, laughter, and again, seeing people reaching out and talking with others.  I also noticed the crowd this year appeared younger. I remember distinctly feeling in the age minority last year whereas this year, I saw a good number of couples that appeared in the "under 30" crowd. It was great to see that with a larger attendance the overall vibe was both more positive and the crowd younger.

I'm going to post my theories, totally unscientifically researched, about why this year felt different.

1. The economy was really in the crapper this time last year. I remember last year freaking out about being able to even afford to come. We were very lucky and very grateful to receive a scholarship for the both of us to attend. When you're at a Family Building Conference and realize that even with the Massachusetts Infertility Mandate, ART or adoption is going to cost you anywhere from $15 - $40K, I'm sure that would put anyone in a foul mood. I'm not saying the economy has snapped back, but it's certainly better this year than it was this time last year.

2. Increased media coverage of infertility (even negative) in the past year. I know we are still dealing with the aftermath of Octomom and yes, we're still wrestling with the ethical dilemmas of the 70-year old first-time mother in India or the 57-year old new mother of twins in Australia - but we've had some good press too. And with shows like Giuliana & Bill and their efforts with RESOLVE National, I think there has been a shift in the infertility media landscape. The most important thing is that the media is covering infertility, people are talking about it. With increasing dialogue I think comes an openness to making connections with others in the same boat.

3. An aggressive social media campaign. I know I'm certainly part of this, from blogging and tweeting and Facebooking every chance I could about the Conference, but it was all a part of a larger strategy by RESOLVE of New England to reach out to a broader audience through the online channels of which we're attuned. And I have to say, I think the strategy worked.

In sum, I think this was an incredibly successful conference, one that I'm proud not only to have been a part of, but proud to see how far we've come in a year. I am by no means "over" my infertility or finished grieving or living emotionally well with all of this - but we have come a helluva long way in a year. I find that inspiring for myself, and I hope it inspires and gives you hope too.

If I didn't see you at the Conference this year... I hope it's because you've resolved in some way. And if you haven't, I'll still be there next year.