Gearing Up for Advocacy Day

I've got the shoes - slip-on heels that are uber-comfy. And there's a backup pair of flip flops in my shoulder bag just in case. That's been the #1 piece of advice I've gotten from all of the other bloggers I've asked who have participated in Advocacy Day: make sure you have comfortable shoes.

I'm so. freaking. excited. for tomorrow. After work today, I hop onto a flight down to DC amd then starting bright and early at 7:30am tomorrow, Advocacy Day begins with on-site registration and breakfast. We train from 8am to about 10am, and then it's off to the Senate Office Building. I was thrilled to read on Friday's Advocacy Day update email that Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz (D-FL) will speak to our group at 9am before we head out! Rep. Schultz was one of the 20 co-sponsors of the Family Building Act of 2009 and is a vocal supporter of the infertility community. She spoke with members of RESOLVE in support of our community at a Congressional briefing on infertility last April. I am ver yexcited to hear her speak.

I'm nervous about tomorrow.

The other folks I've talked to have all assurred me there's really no reason to be nervous. Larry said it best to me last night, "What's the worst that could happen? They say to you, 'Thanks for sharing your story with me?'" He raises a very salient argument there. But I can't help it; I'm still nervous. Maybe it's more nervous excitement. I know I'll be in the company of over 100 people representing 18 states who will be doing the exact same thing: meeting with legislators and/or their staffers, advocating for infertility awareness and some key action items. And it's not like we'll be unprepared: we have plenty of materials we've been given over the last few weeks, there are resources online, and we'll be getting that last-minute training rally first thing tomorrow morning.

Still... I'm nervous :)

I'll also be really candid here: this whole OBL thing? Makes me nervous about retaliation. As much as I think it's important to release the photos eventually, I'm just praying the White House doesn't decide to drop those today or tomorrow. Like, seriously folks? Can you just wait until the weekend for that? Please? Thanks. It's been a few years since I lived in the DC area, but even when we still had the colored terror threat system, I know how the region gets in times of increased security. I had to put this (slightly irrational) fear out there: name it, own it, and realize that there's not really a whole helluva lot I can do about it.

Tomorrow I'll be speaking with folks on Capitol Hill about three key issues:

1. Infertility is a disease. I know it seems like such a no-brainer to all of us. Yet, even though WHO and ASRM define infertility as a disease, we haven't gotten that yet from the CDC. More on that further below.
2. Getting support for a possible Family Tax Credit Bill. Similar to the Adoption Tax Credit, a bill has been drafted (but not proposed officially) that would offer infertility patients a credit of their infertility-related out-of-pocket expenses. It would certainly supplement folks like me who live in a mandated state, but would be a tremendous help to the 35 other states with no infertility mandate. As I will be meeting with Senator Kerry's staff, you better believe I will close the deal on asking him to originate the bill rather that just co-sponsoring, as he's on both the Senate Finance Committee and its Healthcare subcommittee.
3. Asking our legislators to follow-up with the CDC to inquire about the status of last year's National Action Plan for Infertility. This was a huge step forward for our community: the CDC last year committed to researching and funding a National Action Plan for "an emerging public health priority." (That's how the CDC refers infertility - not as a disease. You can see why issue #1 is important to discuss with legislators.) However, all work has stopped on the Action Plan. We want to get our legislators to commit to pushing the CDC to move forward with their work or to at the very least, find out why work has stopped.

Throw in the mix some highlights of our journey- like the fact that despite the fact that I live in a state that leads the nation in mandated coverage, we're still looking at $15-20K out of pocket - my effervescent charm, and hopefully, a little luck - it looks like it's going to be one amazing day.

I also want to give a very public shout out to both Melissa from Stirrup Queens and Julie from A Little Pregnant: when I asked each of them, they were both very kind to give me some fantastic advice about what to expect tomorrow. They've both really taken a lot of the edge off of the nervousness.

I'll be updating throughout the day on Twitter, so if you're not already following me @miriamshope, that will be the place to read about all of my adventures on Capitol Hill tomorrow. I will of course have a huge update post on Friday with pictures, reflections, and maybe a little video. We'll see how much I can cram in tomorrow and how fast I can edit any footage.

So with that folks, I'm off. If you're going to DC, look for the gal in the dark teal blue shirt and dark grey pants; I'll be wearing a yellow RESOLVE bracelet too. Feel free to come over and say hi - I love to meet folks IRL. For those on the blogosphere, read about my exploits on Twitter tomorrow. And to all: come back Friday and read the recap.

Oh, and wish me luck :)

RESOLVE's Advocacy Day: A Real Woman's Story

RESOLVE's Advocacy Day is one week from today on Thursday, May 5th and there's still time to sign up and participate. It might seem intimidating and overwhelming to head to our nation's capitol to speak to legislators about our needs as a community, but it can be a powerful, incredible experience for those who participate. I'll be heading down to D.C. Wednesday night to join RESOLVE in advocating on the Hill for infertility awareness a week from today. I'm a newbie to Advocacy Day too, so I wanted to share one woman's story to show you that yes, someone just like you or me can participate in Advocacy Day, with no prior experience with legislators at all.

Folks, meet Susan. You may know her as Donor Diva:

She's the proud mama to a darling boy, a fellow POF-er, and a blogger just like you and me who took the leap and participated in RESOLVE's Advocacy Day in 2009. I asked Susan to talk about her experience with RESOLVE and to tell us what the day was like.

Why did you decide to participate in Advocacy Day? 
My friend and I were both in the middle of our 2ww after our DE cycles. She suggested that we go down to DC for advocacy as a distraction. I live in Maryland so it was easy to get there.

How were you feeling about the day leading up to it? 
I was most nervous about talking with the Congressman and Senators. I was most excited about helping the infertility community. There are so many people in the infertility community that helped me I wanted to help also. RESOLVE provides you with support beforehand. They did a conference call, had papers for you to read through, and did training the morning before meetings. As long as you do your prep you will be ready to go.

Tell us what the Advocacy Day itself was like.  
My friends and I Metro-ed down to DC (we live in MD). When we arrived, we were greeted by many smiling faces. The first part of the morning was spent prepping us for our meetings and also hearing stories about peoples' journeys through infertility.

For me, the meetings were in a great progression. It started off with a big group and my last meeting was just me and one other person. It gave me a chance to warm up and gradually feel more confident. It was very exhilarating to actually speak to the Aides and have them understand our position.

It was hard for me to stay calm since this was the first time for me to do something like this. What helped was knowing that I wasn't the only one meeting with them. Also, you aren't meeting with the actually congressman/women or senator you are meeting with their aid. Also, that we were doing this for a great cause. My proudest moment was talking with other participants of advocacy day.

At the end of the day, how did you feel? 
Exhausted!

Any advice you would give to folks going to DC for the first time this year? 
Prepare yourself and read EVERYTHING that RESOLVE provides you with. This way you will be confident in all of you meetings. If you are passionate about infertility then you should go. There were several states not represented when I went and the only way we are going to make change is by getting as many people as possible involved.

Thanks Susan, for sharing your story. I hope your positive experience will inspire others to follow in your footsteps and continue the grassroots advocacy work for the infertility community on Capitol Hill. I know it's certainly made me very excited to take part a week from today!

Worried about making it down to DC? No problem! RESOLVE can prepare you to talk with your local legislators in your own home districts. I wanted to give a special shout-out to Whitney, who had an amazing experience this week meeting with legislators in her home state. Not only did she meet with her legislators, give them plenty of facts, but she actually got their support to co-sponsor a forthcoming infertility tax credit bill. Another real person, another blogger just like you and me - and she's advocated in a huge way for our community.

It is especially critical for constituents from the following states to attend, as you would meet with key members of Congress who could help us in getting the infertility tax credit bill to succeed:

• California
• Delaware
• Illinois
• Maine
• Minnesota
• New Jersey
• New York
• Pennsylvania
• Washington

Have you participated in Advocacy Day before? Sound off in the comments and share your experience with us!

If you still have questions about the day and how you can participate, what to expect - even what to wear - check out the comprehensive Advocacy Day FAQ online.

Will you join me in DC this year for Advocacy Day? 

What I learned at the aquarium.

While I was in Atlanta I had a day with some downtime, so I stopped by The World of Coca Cola and the Georgia Aquarium, the largest aquarium in the world. I really thought my weekend would be an IF-free zone but the aquarium had different plans for me.

Of course I'm already setting myself up for failure by heading to an aquarium on a Saturday afternoon: I was surrounded by squealing children and their weary parents everywhere I turned. But I'm just as big of a nerd to tune out a lot of that out, fighting my way past small children to press my nose up against the glass, oohing and aahing at the spectacular array of sea life. I'm a total dork for museums.
 

The ever curious looking sea dragon.

It was at the sea dragon exhibit that I suddenly felt my breath catch, that lump in my throat. A young father was kneeling in front of the tank, pointing out the creature to his daughter, as she turned her wispy head of ghost-white blonde hair toward the glass. "Can you point to the sea dragon?" he said, and the daughter obliged, pointing. "Yay!" he and his wife cooed, and the girl smiled and giggled, pressing her tiny chubby hands against the glass, mesmerized by the creature.

I want to take my kid to the aquarium with Larry. The thought was as clear as day in my head, followed by that pulling feeling in my chest. I felt corners of my eyes moisten. I quickly stood up (I had been kneeling to get a better view) and made my way over to the next exhibit. Suddenly, all the kids I'd been able to tune out for the last hour seemed as though they had multiplied in number and volume.

I made my way to the main tank viewing area and took a seat, my mouth slightly agape at the sheer size of it. I could have spent hours here, watching the three whale sharks- these beautiful, epic beasts each as big as a bus, the manta rays eerily soaring through the water as if in slow motion, the massive groupers with their slackjawed expressions. I was transfixed - humbled - by this ocean of wonder in front of me. In a lot of ways, it felt like an underwater chapel.

Sitting there, I connected with my infertility in a way I hadn't previously. Seeing that father and daughter, I finally understood a part of this ache within me. I work in education, so it's only natural that I long to teach my children one day. Not homeschooling, rather, how to tie their shoelaces. What to do if they break up with their boyfriend. Why they should read a book- good books. I want to teach them about sea dragons, and Henrietta Lacks and constellations and baking soda volcanoes and all the joys and wonders of science. I want to teach them about truth and integrity and trust and love and responsibility. And everything else.

I only just realized, sitting in front of this massive underwater window, that the grief and pain with infertility isn't just about wanting a baby. It isn't just about baby bumps and showers and revealing your news to your friends and family. It isn't just about nurseries and matching outfits and dolls and mementos emblazoned with "Baby's First."

This ache is about leaving a legacy, leaving a mark on the next generation. Parenting isn't just about answering the alarm on the biological clock: it's about sending a part of yourself into the unknown future ahead of us all. Death and taxes, right? Being able to parent is hoping that one day, one day very long after we're all gone - someone might hear an echo of wisdom, of something we once said and we are remembered.

It's as though infertility robs us of our voice cast ahead into time.

This is what I sat and thought about next to the fishes and the sharks and the rays, creatures with no concept of time, always swimming in this endless ocean. For the half hour or so I sat there, deep in thought, it was as though I was in slow-motion with the fish, the world moving around me at an accelerated pace. Those thoughts, even after only being away for just 24 hours, made me long for home, to be close to my husband.

And yet despite how deeply introspective I became, I sat there wide-eyed, in wonder at the beauty of it all.

This one's for M.

I'm sitting in the hotel lobby at my conference, because amazingly, in this day and age, I'm expected to actually pay for internet in my room. Come on Marriott, I get the money game you're playing here, but come on. We're already paying out the nose for the room... you could throw a little free in-room internet my way.

This conference has taken up a grand amount of time (as it should) but it's been an intense 4 days so far. Tons of sessions from which to choose, constantly playing the game of "what information can I realistically take back and practically apply to my institution?" and feeling a bit out of my league. This conference is more academically focused rather than just pure student affairs' conferences I've attended in the past and sometimes I just feel like I'm wearing a scarlet BA on my chest... more faculty and administrators than staff here, that's for sure. Larry told me after I got out of my first session: "Don't sweat it and don't sell yourself short. You're just as smart and have every right to be there, too."

And that's why I love my husband ^_^

. . .

Yesterday morning, I was on my way out of a session when a young woman came up to me.

"Hi, are you Keiko?"

"Yes," I said, distractedly.

"I read your blog and I just had to come over and say hi and thank you for being a voice out there for us." We chatted for another minute; I was half-asleep, having overslept a bit and trying to remember where my next session was so I gave her my business card, thanked her for reaching out to me, and dashed out into the crowd of attendees. A few minutes later, I realized how rude I must have seemed: I didn't even get her last name.

I had gotten her first name- M- but hadn't thought to grab her card in my semi-awake state. I was thrilled when I checked my email that evening to see she had sent me a note. This morning we exchanged emails and texts and met up to chat during some downtime this afternoon.

. . .

Like any good academic conference, there are plenty of publishing company exhibitors here to hawk their titles to us salivating first-year/common reading book selection committee members. Today many of them had catered lunches featuring several of their authors here to talk about their books. M and I had each gone to different lunches, and she shared with me a really tough moment for her that day:

The author of Just Don't Fall, Josh Sundquist, spoke at her lunch about how childhood cancer robbed him of his leg but lead to a path toward the Paralympics. She relayed his delivery: energetic, engaging, exhuberant. He described how as a 9-year old, he looked up to a boy wearing a lime green soccer uniform in his school. He wanted that uniform; that was his goal. At 10, he was diagnosed with cancer and lost his leg. After years of physical therapy, he talked about a ski trip with his family where he went sledding with a modified sled. Just before he went down for another run, as he was sitting on the sled, a man came up to him, saying "Hey kid!" He turned and looked, and here was a man in a red, white, and blue uniform: stars, stripes, matching and coordinated. "Hey kid, I'm a coach for the US Paralympics Team, and I think you'd be great."

Sundquist arrived at his selling point, about how to adapt his book and his story to college freshmen audiences of all backgrounds: "Sometimes you grow up and want so bad to fit into one uniform, only to find out that it's not that one that's handed to you."

M didn't have to explain anything more beyond that point. The look in her eyes was enough to know just how deeply that had resonated within her that afternoon, a stark reminder of how the pain/anger/longing/fuckedup-itude of infertility can really strike us anywhere.

No matter how hard we might work to create safe-spaces for ourselves, we just never really know when a subtle reminder of your own infertility can creep into your brain. In some ways, it's like we're either always with our guards up or feeling hopelessly defenseless. It's a precarious and unsettling state in which to be.

. . .

M and I talked for over an hour, each sharing our stories and experiences. I think we were both appreciative of the chance to make a face-to-face connection. I certainly didn't come here thinking I'd talk to anyone about infertility but I'm glad I did.

Sidenote: I had my own WTFIF?! (I'm coining a new acronym: What the fuck, infertility?!) moment Saturday at the Georgia Aquarium. That's a post for later in the week.

I'd been feeling a bit stagnant in the days leading up to the conference, but since I've been here, I've felt a renewed kick in the ass about writing, and more importantly, about doing more for this community. My chance meeting with M has only solidified that resolve.

I told M that I write and make videos because infertility shouldn't be silent and we should be able to speak openly about it with others. M made such a great point about how we can both look around this Sea of The Academy and know we have brother and sisters in arms, fighting daily and (most likely) private battles. I listened to M's story, celebrating the things we share in common and listening with compassion at her own challenges, offering the best advice I could. It was a truly wonderful conversation and I'm glad to have made such a happenstance connection with someone.

. . .

Photo by Gillian via Flickr.

I know this post is titled "This one's for M" but really, it's for all of you:

M: Keep writing. Even if you don't blog, make that pen move. I won't say that every word put to paper is one less tear, but it certainly makes it easier along the way. No matter how things turn out, you can always look back and read the story of your growth and strength.

You don't have to carry signs or run a fundraiser to be an advocate. Like I said, even sharing your story with just one person outside your safe circle is another person educated about the reality of infertility and potentially another ally in your corner.

Arm yourself with information and facts. People will be snarky, ignorant, or even polite and well-intentioned but careless in their delivery. Or, as you said, they could be straightforward and devastatingly blunt. We're in the field of education, so I know you can relate to this: make those teachable moments. You don't have to necessarily share your personal story, but a solid statistic or research can go a long way. Like a good higher ed professional, refer them to a reliable resource for more information.

Treasure your safe circle of support and "use" them when you need to. Don't be afraid to ask for their support when you need it. That's why you hold them so close to your heart.

Never feel weird about reaching out to me, even at a place as random as an academic conference. I'm here to listen. I might not have any answers but at the very least, I can listen because your story told in your voice to another person is important, valid, and to be respected. I know it's not easy and I respect and honor your courage for opening up and sharing it with me.

I wish we weren't both members of this community, but I'm glad we found each other, that we made this connection. It helps not to feel so goddamned alone.

And M: no matter what happens with this cycle, I'm sending you luck and support. Take it easy with those needles and just remember that you've got someone rooting for you, ready to celebrate or provide an ear, a shoulder, and a box of virtual tissues if necessary.

Be well and safe travels.

Back from the Cruise and Back to Life

I'm so sorry I have fallen off the internet radar in the last twoweeks. Just two days after coming home from our vacation, I managed to get one ugly case of strep that knocked me flat on my ass for three days this past week. Even though I was literally been in bed for 48 hours, I've been in so much pain and on so much medication that the thought of sitting down to blog was just too much. And then add to that I'd been out of work from our vacation, back a day, and then out sick for three days... I had a ton of catching up to do.

That being said, I'm back! And I have what I'm sure is going to be a lengthy travelogue of our vacation, because brevity is not my strong suit (my Japan travelogue, which I've not published here, but probably should at some point, is 31 pages and 14,000 words long). Here are the quick hits:

+ Cruise: Awesome! Relaxing. Norwegian is very different than Disney. Love love love me some cruises.
+ Grand Cayman: Beautiful, expensive, touristy, and the ocean water was just the most beautiful cerulean. Managed to avoid a sunburn but got a nice base tan. Bonus: drove a Jeep on the left side of the road (intentionally).
+ Cozumel: Touristy like WHOA, downpouring rain, I really don't like ATVs, and I need to go back there on a fishing charter. Bonus: learned that Cozumel is basically Fertility Island according to Mayan worship.
+ Miami: Art Basel 2010 was in town, South Beach is hopping, hip, and very VERY rich, ate at a delicious authentic French cafe, might have gorged on some gelato, relaxed on the beach before heading home again.
+ In sum: A really wonderful vacation.

And now for the detailed travelogue... Pull up a chair, get comfy: this got long.

We left for Miami the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend bright and early; we landed at MCO at 8:35am. Having never been to Miami before, we figured we'd tool around for the better part of the morning and head over the ship... the trouble was figuring out what to do with our luggage. We found out we could drop it off at the port starting at 10am, so we took a cab down to the port area and got ourselves some breakfast while we waited. Even though it was only 10am, Larry ordered himself a Cuban sandwich and a smoothie; I went for eggs, ham, and a Cubano coffee. While we ate breakfast, we realized we hadn't made any plans before getting onto the boat. Hm.

Normally, Larry and I are Mr. and Mrs. Travel Agent when it comes to planning our vacations, but we had no clue what do to for the next four hours. We're reading things like Yelp and random travel websites just to get some ideas. In my infinite wisdom, I find a rather misleading blurb for a "Sunday Village Market" featuring "craft sellers" and other neat sounding vendors. I'm thinking it's going to be this very kitschy, hipster, trendy thing.

Oh no. It's a bunch of really lame (less than 10) stalls in this very weird high-end strip mall in the middle of the financial district in Miami. We got there planning to spend a couple of hours checking it out, and we made the rounds in about 20 minutes. And considering it was a rather expensive cab ride to get over there, we didn't just want to turn around and head back to the port. So we did the next best thing: we hit up the Publix and got ourselves some bottles of Coke*.

*Good thing too: I'll get to that reason later.

We decide to head to the ship early and just chill out and explore the boat until we set sail, so it was another $20 cab ride back to the port. Getting onto the boat was easy, but just like at the airport, it was no drinks allowed, so I chugged my little bottle of Coke while I waited in line. Then it dawned on me:

What if the Norwegian is a Pepsi ship?!
 

We couldn't check into our cabin right away so we wandered around the ship, checking out all the restaurants and lounges and nooks and crannies. As we set sail, we headed down to the pool deck for a Caribbean inspired barbecue with steel drums and plenty of fruity cocktails. We splurged and got ourselves a fruity concoction of orange juice, strawberries, and a fair amount of rum. As we set sail and watched Miami fade into the distance, we were already feeling mighty relaxed.

The next day we were at sea all day, so we got to explore the various activities on board. We watched a delicious cooking demonstration and got to meet the Executive Chef of the ship. We hung out by the pool and got a nice tan. We met another couple on the boat who we would end up running into throughout our trip. We played shuffleboard (way harder than you would think) and I loved just watching the water. The coolest part? Seeing several schools of bonito (flying fish) glide over the waves and back into the water. I wondered at what point does a school of flying fish become a flock. I was also just amazed at the changing palettes of blue as I gazed out at the sea- I never knew there could be so many subtle shades. For dinner, we went to the sushi restaurant on board where I couldn't resist ordering bonito sashimi... it was friggin' delish.

The next day we anchored at Grand Cayman and took one of the first tender boats to the island. The heat was almost a shock to our systems: just oppressively hot in the late morning sun. What amazed me more: the folks who headed right off the boat and pulled up a seat at the port-side bar. Really? At 10am? Larry and I aren't big drinkers, so this was a cultural thing that was beyond us. (Sidebar: I really don't know how recovering alcoholics can go on cruises. The amount of drinking combined with how much it's peddled at you is almost overwhelming.) We headed out for our 4x4 Jeep tour of the island. As we hopped on the shuttle bus from the port, we became acutely aware that everyone was driving on the left. Oh right.... British colony and all. Well, it should certainly make driving our Jeeps interesting!

Larry's inaugeral drive on the left side of the road.

Larry drove first. We were paired up with a lovely little old lady from Wisconsin named Shana. She had no interest in driving (thank G-d) but she was a total shotgun hog the entire time. Otherwise, very pleasant, sweet woman. The driving took a little getting used to: we drove on the left, but our Jeep was American and not retro-fitted for left driving, so the steering wheel was also on the left. When I got to drive later in the tour, the sensation was very disorienting. Making right turns were not only cognitively confusing, but just plain dangerous, as my muscle memory was conditioned to look pretty much left before pulling out (your last look should be to the right as you have to cross a lane of oncoming traffic. Like I said, disorienting and dangerous).

We stopped at the National Forest and overlooked a stunning view of the reef- the second largest barrier reef in the world. From the beach to the reef are depths of anywhere between six and fifteen feet. Beyond the reef, it's a straight drop of anywhere from 2000-6000 feet! In the forest, we were told to keep our eyes peeled for wild iguana... sadly the only one I saw there was roadkill :-/

From there we headed to the Tortuga Rum Cake Factory. Remember when I mentioned that I'm glad I chugged the Coke before boarding the ship? Turns out: you either have to buy a soda plan with a special mug, or pay $2 a glass on the boat. So of course, even though Grand Cayman is probably one of the most expensive Western Caribbean islands (because everything on the island is imported), I still put down $3 for a 20 oz bottle of delicious, delicious soda. We also tasted a sample of some rather sweet rum cake (Larry swears it's his Nan's sherry cake recipe) and did a shot of some rum that tasted somewhere between rocket fuel, banana, and delicious. Oh and then I drove again. How's that for responsible? We made another stop at Hell, this weird coral formation in the middle of the island that looks like... well, hell. There I saw an iguana in a tree and nearly stepped on one that then ran up a coconut tree.

It was back to the beach for a couple of hours where we finally got to go into the ocean- it was so warm and clear. We even went snorkeling and saw lots of awesome fish just neck deep out. We added another layer to our tan and felt totally relaxed and exhausted after just a couple of hours in the waves. After a 2 hour clusterfuck nightmare trying to get back on the boat when we got on the last tender boat back to the ship, Larry had a little chat with the front desk and we ended up with a free dinner and a bottle of wine at the steakhouse on board (food is free, but they have upgradable dining experiences). The filet I had was bangin'. Larry's porterhouse was obscene. The wine- a carmenere- just perfect.

The next day we docked at Cozumel. We were up early again for our big ATV adventure in the jungle. As we got off the boat, we were surprised at how chilly it was, and saw the looming dark greyness on the horizon. As we waited in our excursion holding area at the port, we saw the darkness slowly begin to hide the landscape behind a thick grey veil. It was headed right towards us. We ran inside one of the portside shops for cover as the downpour hit. It was our first encounter with a Mexican pharmacia - where I could literally take my pick of otherwise prescription drugs in the United States. It was surreal.

The rain continued and we made our way through near ankle deep water toward the bus. The streets were flooded and yet our bus zipped along the highway at breakneck speed. We arrived and the rain subsided only long enough to watch our safety video. By this time, Larry and I were already soaked to the bone. As I picked up my helmet and said a little prayer for safety (I was pretty much terrified out of my mind to do this), the rain came down even harder. Great, I thought, just great.

The guide put me in third gear since this rattling gas heap of death was a semi-automatic ATV. Larry took the ATV in front of me and we were off - way faster of a start than I would have ever liked. There was a short rush of exhileration as I got up to about 40 miles per hour in that first flat stretch that turned to panic as we started hitting the rougher terrain. The trails were completely flooded. It was like riding through a river of chocolate milk. I'd zip along and then slow down suddenly when I'd hit dips of 2-3' deep waters, then gun the engine to slosh through it, mud flying all around me and all over me. I stalled twice (once shouting at Larry in front of me as he just sped away) when I slowed down too much in the water.

Never, ever again.

We reached the midway point of the adventure and took a break. It had stopped raining and you could see the sun straining to break through the thick layer of clouds above. Our guide Jaime took us to the top of a hill where we stood in the middle of Mayan ruins. As my back and arms ached from the ride so far, our guide told us about the history of the island of Cozumel. The Mayans are known for being a people who practiced human sacrifice, but none were performed at Cozumel. The island was sacred to the singular Mayan goddess, Ixchel. As the Mother Goddess, Mayans honored and respected her by not defiling her island with such sacrifices. And cue the "we can never really escape our infertility" moment: she was of course, the goddess of midwifery, birth, and fertility, so ancient Mayan couples (and even present day Mexicans) traveled to the island to conceive and venerate Ixchel. Supposedly, those that conceived on the island were blessed with very large families. Between our three guides alone were 19 children! (Jesus, the man who would save me from my two stalls, was father to 11 children. Um, nuts.)

Jaime made some jokes about this excursion featuring a special massage package: "So tell me, men, have you liked your cajones massage so far? And ladies, how is your boobies massage?" It was the first time I really cracked a smile, and we were back on the ATVs. "The rest of this is much easier, less rocky," Jaime promised.

Lies.

Yeah, he loved it.

Deeper, longer stretches of water, seriously rocky sharp turns, and the whole time I'm convinced I'm going to flip off and get crushed by this vehicle or drown, I'm not sure which first. The ATV was genuinely a bit tough to steer. Adding to the fact that I was smack in the middle of the line, I had to drive much faster than I wanted just to keep up. The sun managed to come out, as did the mosquitos and some huge, radiant butterflies. We finally made it back in one piece. Larry was grinning from ear to ear - he loved it. I was pretty much exhausted, soaked to the core, and ready to take a shower.

We went back to the ship covered in mud. I was freezing, as the wind was still going strong, so I just shivered the whole walk down the dock. After a hot shower, a clean change of clothes and a snack, we went back to the port to do a little shopping. We checked out all the various touristy shops, looked at some jewelry, cohibas, and endless bottles of tequila but only walked away with a magnet. We decided to stop by Señor Frog's, since we'd heard so much about "that's the place you have to go to in Mexico!"

Oh my. Oh my goodness, Señor Frog's. We managed to spend $33 on two yards (28oz) of pure fruity alcoholic madness between Larry and me, and get three free shots of tequila as we danced in a congo line where the waiters shot the alcohol from squeeze bottles into our open mouths as we passed them. I basically experiened a lifetime's worth of College Spring Breaks in about... 20 minutes. Yeah. 20 minutes and that much alcohol. I was wasted before we even got back onto the ship, which was only a 10 minute walk from Señor Frog's to the gangway.

And of course, we were heading to the ship's cinema for the lighting of the menorah on board. It was the first night of Hanukkah and I have to hand it to Norwegian - they had a rabbi on board, a hanukkiah with actual candles (and a fire extinguisher on hand), latkes and Manischewitz. We sang songs and said the blessings- from what I remember, it was lovely. About 60 people showed up, way more than I would have expected. It was nice.

I then headed back to the cabin where I pretty much passed out for two hours and slept off some of the shame that was Señor Frog's.

The rest of the time was at sea as we made our way back to Miami. I forget the blur of nights on the ship, but we saw two magic shows: one in the theatre (he made a helicopter appear onstage. The levitation bit at the beginning was cheesy, but I admit, the helicopter was pretty cool) and one in the cinema where he did nothing but sleight of hand card work. Admittedly the latter was the better show: I basically had to pick my jaw up off the floor. (I have a thing for magic.) We also saw two improv performances of a Second City troupe (best show on the boat) and one of the ship's performers' "shows." I use quotes because their show was just... a trainwreck. But whatever, it was free entertainment and we were happy to be entertained.

Before we knew it we were back in Miami, after some rather choppy waters on the way home. I never got seasick, but it did give me a headache. Best $80 of the cruise was spent on having our bags sent ahead to our plane from the boat. We breezed through Customs and had the whole day and early evening to explore Miami. We took a cab and made a beeline for South Beach.

I posted on Facebook that day that South Beach is basically a foreign country. There was a point at which Larry and I could have moved there, and so we kept looking at it through the lens of once-potential residents. We walked down the famous Lincoln Road, checking out all the shops and galleries. Art Basel 2010 was that weekend in addition to already being a pretty art-centric town to begin with. (I love the description of Art Basel from their website: "Art Basel Miami Beach is the most important art show in the United States, a cultural and social highlight for the Americas." Translation: I'm kind of a big deal.) We discovered an artist we hadn't heard of, Britto - he's got a thing for adorable cats. He's like Keith Haring on Prozac and E.

We made our way to the ever expensive and scenic Ocean Drive, passing hotel after hotel. At one point we passed a group of people, presumably family, that no joke looked straight out of National Lampoon European Vacation, when they're all wearing the ridiculous Italian "fashions" except the people that passed us were for real. Totally had to be in town for Art Basel. G-d, I hope so anyway.

We stopped down Espanola Way into the Spanish Village Historic District and ate... French. Very authentic French at A La Folie Cafe. From there we grabbed a quite bite of pretty amazing gelato and off to the beach. The water was surprisingly cold, so we just laid out and sunbathed for a couple of hours. As sunset approached, I whipped out the menorah I had been carrying in my purse (what can I say, I'm a prepared Jew) and we lit candles for the third night of Hanukkah right there on the beach. We strolled up and down Ocean Drive people watching and ogling the many very fast, very expensive cars that lines the street. I loved walking around and hearing various techno and electronica being played from every store. We even passed a clothing store- a clothing store!- where a live DJ was actually spinning tunes in the window. The urge to dance randomly was strong. Remember what I said about Miami being a foreign country? Yeah. Totes.

We grabbed a slice of pizza, got a second helping of gelato for the day, and took a cab to the airport. It was time to go home. In all, we had a really wonderful, relaxing time. You know it was a low-key trip as we only took about 150 pictures total (Japan we took something like, 900 pics and and hour of video). Although we're usually power-travelers who need something to do everyday and we did get a smidge cabin fevery on the last day at sea, it was nice just to have the freedom to relax. We had a lot of great "us" time.

Team Zoll has had another great vacation. Next year (and Larry's pinky-sworn to it): Israel!!!

Check out all of our vacation photos here online.

. . .
Now, let's get back to getting some posts up about infertility again... I've had a lot brewing in my head the last week. Back to regular posting now - promise :)

Our Autumn Vacation

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

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

. . .

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

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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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

Anchors Away

I'm on a boat! (Or will be.)

Larry and I need a vacation like whoa.

My grandmother died. I became an aunt. I got a promotion and simultaneously lost my housing as a result. So then we bought a house, but had to move out from my job-sponsored housing and live with two amazingly gracious friends for three weeks. Late August into September was batshit insane between work and closing on our house. We moved into our new home and then had an electrical fire. I won a major award. Then I started getting migraines from sex which, thank G-D!, have gone away on their own. I've finally decided to man up and get a second opinion (update: my 2nd opinion appointment is set for November 11th. Trying not to poop my pants.) I'm not recapping the last two years or anything... this is just in the last five months!

Like I said... we need a vacation. And we're taking one - we're going on a cruise after Thanksgiving!

I have the fun task at work of purchasing supplies for our resident assistants. Since I don't have a purchasing card, I just use my personal credit card and get reimbursed. I have in turn racked up over 20,000 credit card points. My husband has even more than I do (although, I don't know what he's spending that on because he's not getting reimbursed for those purchases... hmmm... *casts suspicious gaze*).

We saw a great deal on a cruise to the Western Caribbean on Norwegian's Dawn of the Seas so we put the whole thing on points. As a result, our 6-day cruise only costs... wait for it...

$20.

We still have to pay airfare, but I we can handle that when our 6-day vacation only costs us 20 bucks!

We'll be making stops in Cozumel and the Grand Cayman Islands. We've never been to Mexico (bring on the margaritas!) and this will be our second cruise. The first was our honeymoon. The great thing is that Dawn of the Seas is as old as our marriage- it was the newest ship in the Norwegian fleet when we were price shopping for our honeymoon cruise and nearly went on it, but settled for the Land/Sea Disney World & Cruise package instead (totally worth it, btw).

We'll be setting sail just as autumn starts making the turn into nasty New England winter... it'll be the perfect way to celebrate Hanukkah- drinking margaritas, gambling in international waters, and maybe snorkeling or touring ancient Mayan ruins. We can't wait!

Anyone else taking a vacation? Or anyone want to just reminisce about an awesome vacation? Feel free to share in the comments :)

Night of Hope Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quick Updates

Short and sweet today:

House hunt updates...

• Inspection passed with flying colors last week.
• We've hired a lawyer.
• We're going with Wells Fargo for our mortgage.
• Purchase and sale needs to be signed by tomorrow night.
• Closing is set for August 12.

Other updates...

• Red Tent Temple on Monday night was awesome. I love my RTT ladies.
• A friend whom I'll call the Librarian Goddess from RTT was just diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma; please keep her in your thoughts.
• I've got bursitis in my right shoulder; it's been bothering me for a couple of weeks and now the doc I saw today ordered an x-ray, 6 weeks of physical therapy and daily course of anti-inflammatories. Fun times. I love the feeling of falling apart one body part at a time.
• Going on a long weekend vacation to a lake house in northern NJ this weekend with Larry and family friends of his. REALLY looking forward to the time to just veg.

See y'all next week.

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.

The Mammogram Primer

Had my mammogram yesterday. When my doc first mentioned last Monday I should get a baseline reading, I kind of freaked out a little bit. No history of breast cancer in my family, but the possibilities of what it could detect are still unsettling, at the very least. I had a pretty chill morning going to NIA dance class (more on that later) and catching up on Weeds and eating leftover Indian food for lunch. By the time I got to the hospital, I decided it wasn't worth getting myself worried sick over a simple scan, so I just let it go with the flow. Since I know many of my readers will eventually have to have a mammogram done at some point (hopefully never at the age of 28), I thought I'd make a little primer out of this. Other general life updates after the jump as well.

Mammogram Tip #1: Take a couple of ibuprofen before your appointment. I'll get to the pain part in a bit, but as a first step: pop a couple of Advil on your drive over to your imaging center. Trust me.

Mammogram Tip #2: Know your family history of breast cancer. They'll ask you both in-person and on your intake form. Other things of which you want to make sure you know the details: any hormonal medication you've taken, including birth control pills, a patch, progesterone supplements, or any kind of fertility drugs (Clomid, Gonal-F, etc.). If you've had a complicated fertility treatment history, it's not a bad idea to just have it all written or printed out with the dates of your treatment and what you took for how long. They also asked me lots of questions since I had no family history of breast cancer and was coming in here at only 28 years old. I had to do the whole "POF/POI - doc wants a baseline" schpiel.

Mammogram Tip #3: Seriously? Don't bother wearing a bra. It's gotta come off anyway, so use the appointment as a chance to swing free for a day (or in my book, no bras on the weekend). Also, wear a comfortable shirt. It'll come off too, but at least when you're done, you'll be wearing something comfortable. I cheated and wore a bathing suit underneath (went to the beach afterward); taking everything off from the waist up was a breeze :) The robe was cute too: I had my choice of pink or white kimono style, opening in the front. Of course I took the pink one!

Mammogram Tip #4: Strike up a conversation with your technician. Mine was kind enough to start it for me- I'm weird with small talk with strangers. She was very curious as to how I was diagnosed with POF and what it meant. We ended up spending almost the whole scan session talking about how adoption works in Massachusetts. And instead of asking me before my scan if there was any chance I was pregnant, she asked if I ever could get pregnant. I wasn't offended either- it was all a very nice distraction to the otherwise very comfortable procedure.

Mammogram Tip #5: Yes, it's going to hurt, but it doesn't last. The mammogram itself is VERY simple. They take four pictures to start, frontal and side views of each breast. Frontal views are the way you're probably imagining mammograms are done: lay your breast on the scan plate, and a top plate lowers down on top of it. As a mammogram is trying to make a 2D image out of a 3D object (your boob), it has to compress quite tight on top. It's definitely painful, but I know it varies based on breast tenderness and size. The scan for each picture only takes about 15 seconds; I found it helped that I inhaled as the plate compresses and exhaled on release. The side view is a bit more painful in that they rotate the bottom plate to about 45° and it compresses from the side. For some reason, on both scans, this one stung a lot more. I compare the pain to anytime you've ever walked into a corner or a door and hit it with your boob. My left breast, for whatever reason, hurt a lot more than my right one. They also have to pull all the breast tissue onto the plate, so that means potentially pulling some armpit fat up there. I know- uncomfortable, but it doesn't last. However, my boobs were definitely a little sore for about a half hour afterward, so I wish I had thought to take an ibuprofen as mentioned in Tip #1 before I left. The soreness was gone within an hour, easily.

Mammogram Tip #6: Don't be alarmed if they call you back for more scans, especially if it's your first mammogram. Since they've never had pictures of your breasts before, they may need more detailed pictures taken. This doesn't instantly mean they've found something. As I mentioned, they're making 2D pictures out of a 3D object, so depending on the compression, some areas of breast tissue may look denser than others just depending on how the breast spread out. My technician explained that they may use weights or other means of compression to help spread out any dense areas that come up. However, for most standard mammograms, such as your annual scan starting at age 40, they'll just be taking those 4 pictures.

Mammogram Tip #7: Do something nice for yourself afterward! My mom makes a "date" out of it with her friend. They both go at the same time and then usually go out to lunch together. It turns something mildly scary into something enjoyable. I ended up going to the beach. Once the scan is done, there's really nothing to do about it, so you might as well spend the time doing something nice for yourself rather than worrying about it.

Mammogram Summary: A few minutes of pain for an important women's health diagnostic, and a great excuse to make a pampered day out of it for yourself afterward.

. . .

Before my mammogram, I went to my NIA dance class. NIA requires a lot of letting go of your pre-conceived notions about aerobics and also your limits of bodily expression. I certainly got a workout (my legs are super sore this morning). But my back doesn't hurt at all. If anything, I have a greater awareness about my body movement and what feels comfortable. You don't have to know dance or martial arts or yoga to appreciate this: there is no "right" way to do NIA. You just do what feels good for your body within a set of given movements. The rest is up to you. I loved it; I wish my next two Saturdays weren't busy so I could go back again. I need to find more NIA classes, because it's a really invigorating, celebratory, expressive workout. Oh, and it won't kill my knees or my back.

Afterward, I hit the beach. Plum Island in Newburyport, MA, is seriously the hidden gem of beaches in the state. Larry is out of town this weekend at a bachelor party on Nantucket, so I thought I'd hit the beach as well. Growing up in NJ, I got spoiled by Atlantic City and Ocean City and Wildwood... NJ beaches are pretty nice and it's amazing how much warmer the water is just 5 hours south of here. Plum Island is the closest thing to a Jersey Shore experience I've had in the 3 years since moving up here. The only catch? The water is FREEZING- like, "I meant to get a tan but I got hypothermia instead" cold.

I fully intended on reading and writing while I sat on the beach: oh no. I passed the eff out. Like, I'm pretty sure I was snoring at one point PTFO'd. It was wonderful. I went for a dip in the ocean to cool off a couple of times, and then realized I was starving. I hit up downtown Newburyport and the River Merrimac Bar & Grille for dinner. Newburyport is so cute and quaint! Lots of Georgian brick-edifice buildings with neat little shops. Parking is a bit of a hassle, but walking around in the nice warm June evening air was just lovely. Dinner was exquisite: a glass of riesling (14 Hands- best riesling I've had), a beet and arugula salad with toasted sunflower seeds and applewood smoked bacon pieces with a red wine vinaigrette and for my entree: wild mushroom risotto, with oyster, portobello, and shittake mushrooms lightly sautéed with garlic, shallot and Madeira wine, served over braised greens & creamy risotto, finished with goat cheese & truffle oil. It was pretty friggin' fantastic. Topped the night off with fresh strawberry ice cream from Gram's Ice Cream and then drove home, sunkissed, tired, and super-relaxed.

With the craziness of the past few weeks, I haven't felt this relaxed in ages. Today: Strawberry Festival, one more home tour of our favorite spot, and a BBQ with friends afterward. It's been a great weekend.

Top photo by: Manuel Cacciatori via Flickr. Bottom photo by: Keiko Zoll ©2010.

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: