I'm still serving up drinks at the bar (as if the bar ever really closes), but I'm pausing from celebrating to muse on the string of pregnancy announcements that have come in the past week or so. You know how women who live together are supposed to get their periods around the same time because their cycles fall into sync (though I have vague, queasy memories that the study involved rubbing armpit sweat on the upper lips of the other women)? How do we explain the strange phenomenon that seems to strike the blogosphere cyclically? Pregnancy announcements and periods of loss seem to crop up not in series of threes, but in series of tens or twenties. I know others have noticed and commented on it too in the past. Sometimes it feels like the blogosphere is the saddest place on earth with failed cycles coming close on the heels of miscarriages. Weeks later, the winds shift and the blogosphere is suddenly like a giant cocktail party where we're toasting half the guests. It can't actually be in the water since we're not drinking from the same tap. But how do we explain this phenomenon, especially right now when we're firmly entrenched in the land of plenty?
Are these times harder? Happier? Do they give you more hope or make you feel more alone? Does knowing that it's a fellow stirrup queen or sperm palace jester make the announcement easier or harder? What is the best way to announce good news or bad news on a blog?
Even more curious, if you receive good news during an announcement jag, how does that influence your feelings? If you receive bad news during a period of loss, how does the timing influence your feelings? And vice versa--when the bad news comes in the midst of plenty or you need to make a pregnancy announcement when we're mourning many losses at once. When posting emotional information such as a pregnancy or a loss, what do you think about before you hit that publish key?
Feel free to go anonymous in the comments section as you weigh in (though anonymous still means kind). I'm going to state my opinion too (though you probably already can figure out my answer) but didn't want to influence the discussion by placing it here in the post. I'll weigh in below in the comments section. Perhaps even anonymously just to be mysterious...
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Hope and Cheers and Crying in Your Beers...
Better late than never. It has been a quiet summer and somehow July almost passed without a Virtual Lushary. No imaginary lemon drop shots. No invisible bottles of microbrewed beer. Not even a non-existent latte for the last six weeks.But I'm throwing open the doors today to squeeze in one last Lushary before it becomes August. So please stop in and let us know what has been happening with you.
As always, it has been a little over a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life EXCEPT if that update involves Harry Potter since I haven't finished yet. There are many, many exciting pregnancy announcements to toast, new paths to parenthood to cheer, and, unfortunately, losses to grieve. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.
I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.
So if you have been a lurker for a while, sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.
For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation.
Happy Drinking.
Oh--and if you haven't done so, go to the International Infertility Film Festival website and vote for your favourite film. There's Love to be won in this contest. Oh...and my film, just in case you wanted to know, is What the Gardener Knows. I'm just saying...
Friday, July 27, 2007
Three Posts in One Day
This is the third, not-quite-worth-actually-counting post. There are two posts back-to-back this morning: the blog roundup and my submission for the International Infertility Film Festival. Just wanted to make sure people scrolled down because there are some kick-ass posts in the roundup this week. Promise to spend my time reading Harry Potter instead of posting this weekend so y'all can catch up on the enormous amount of words I've dumped on you this week...
Happy reading and viewing.
Happy reading and viewing.
What The Gardener Knows
Update at bottom:
Infertility makes me feel like I have this great plot of land in my backyard that I've been trying to turn into a garden. I've planted seeds and I've nurtured the small cuttings I've transplanted. Nothing takes. The plants die and the seeds never come to fruition. It looks like an empty expanse of dirt to everyone else--they have no clue how much work I've put into the garden, how much time I've spent trying to get something to grow, how many days I've sat by my window staring at the soil and dreaming about what the garden will look like when all the flowers bloom.
Is a flowerless garden still a garden? Am I a gardener if I had plants, but they're now gone? Does my lack of a garden mean that I'm not a "real" gardener; a "successful" gardener; a "good" gardener? How can we measure intentions and how can we honour the seeds that never make it above the soil? So much of infertility is underground, hidden. Only the gardener knows the intentions for the land, knows what hasn't grown. Where others see an expanse of dirt, those who have worked the land, scattered the seeds, and nurtured the plants, see a flowerless garden.
At first, I tried to draw this film so it could be as inclusive as Mother Earth's Flower Shop. But I realized quickly that these were my words and my story--therefore, though the words can be used by anyone, the images reflect the two stages of my journey--trying to conceive the first child(ren) and trying to conceive again. I have thought about making several versions of this movie--two women trying to conceive their first child, a single-mother-by-choice trying to give her first child a sibling, a couple experiencing failed cycles and loss. There may be too many variations to reproduce every story with this song, but I would love for you to suggest your own characters for future incarnations of this video.
I hope it speaks to you too. It certainly wasn't my original plan for the IIFF--that one involved a singing pee stick. But this was the movie that felt like it needed to be made right now. I hope you can use it too--to explain either to existing children, a friend, or a spouse/partner where the tears come from and the frustrations of being the keeper of this secret garden. Whereas other mothers share their children with the world, infertile gardeners carry the burden of being the only people who have the memory of their unborn children--either dream children, embryos, or babies.
Infertility makes me feel like I have this great plot of land in my backyard that I've been trying to turn into a garden. I've planted seeds and I've nurtured the small cuttings I've transplanted. Nothing takes. The plants die and the seeds never come to fruition. It looks like an empty expanse of dirt to everyone else--they have no clue how much work I've put into the garden, how much time I've spent trying to get something to grow, how many days I've sat by my window staring at the soil and dreaming about what the garden will look like when all the flowers bloom.
Is a flowerless garden still a garden? Am I a gardener if I had plants, but they're now gone? Does my lack of a garden mean that I'm not a "real" gardener; a "successful" gardener; a "good" gardener? How can we measure intentions and how can we honour the seeds that never make it above the soil? So much of infertility is underground, hidden. Only the gardener knows the intentions for the land, knows what hasn't grown. Where others see an expanse of dirt, those who have worked the land, scattered the seeds, and nurtured the plants, see a flowerless garden.
At first, I tried to draw this film so it could be as inclusive as Mother Earth's Flower Shop. But I realized quickly that these were my words and my story--therefore, though the words can be used by anyone, the images reflect the two stages of my journey--trying to conceive the first child(ren) and trying to conceive again. I have thought about making several versions of this movie--two women trying to conceive their first child, a single-mother-by-choice trying to give her first child a sibling, a couple experiencing failed cycles and loss. There may be too many variations to reproduce every story with this song, but I would love for you to suggest your own characters for future incarnations of this video.
I hope it speaks to you too. It certainly wasn't my original plan for the IIFF--that one involved a singing pee stick. But this was the movie that felt like it needed to be made right now. I hope you can use it too--to explain either to existing children, a friend, or a spouse/partner where the tears come from and the frustrations of being the keeper of this secret garden. Whereas other mothers share their children with the world, infertile gardeners carry the burden of being the only people who have the memory of their unborn children--either dream children, embryos, or babies.
Watch What the Gardener Knows
(if you can't see the embedded movie below, click the hyperlinked title to get to the movie on Youtube)
Lyrics to What the Gardener Knows
To watch other films in the International Infertility Film Festival, please click here. But before you leave this page, let me know what you think about the film.
(if you can't see the embedded movie below, click the hyperlinked title to get to the movie on Youtube)
Lyrics to What the Gardener Knows
To watch other films in the International Infertility Film Festival, please click here. But before you leave this page, let me know what you think about the film.
You are the Academy of Motion Pictures in this International Infertility Film Festival. Go to the festival post to vote for your favourite movie from the festival.
Friday Blog Roundup
Here I was, stressing about coming up with a fourth silver lining and you guys brought the list to 48. I'm still moving comments into the list (condensing ideas that appear more than once) and I have many more to add when I get a second today. Keeping adding them as you think of them. In my more bitter moments, some of the entries have made me snicker. In my lighter moments, it's nice to pause on the fact that I probably would have never met any of you--in real life or online--if not for infertility and loss. This community is a real silver lining to it all.
Today also kicks off the second installment of the International Infertility Film Festival. My entry is above this post. Click over to the festival site (run by the amazing Bea) to see all of the fantastic entries. The theme this time around was spring. I submitted my two-part filmaphor. It's a metaphor via film. A filmaphor. Or a cinemalogy. A cinematic analogy. Whichever you choose. The first, Mother Earth's Flower Shop, showed a month or so ago and it explores the multitude of ways people build their families (as told via singing flowers). The second installment is a bit less campy and happy. In fact I cried a lot making it. I cried while singing it and you can probably hear that when my voice cracks. What the Gardener Knows is a song about loss and failed cycles. An explanation for those who wonder if your mood is something they caused or who don't understand how it feels to spend a summer trying to coax life into a garden only to still have an empty plot of land come fall. I hope you enjoy them--and if enjoy isn't quite the right word for the second film, I hope it at least touches you and helps you when you're feeling alone as you stare at your garden bed.
Please help Bea by spreading the word about the film festival via your own blog.
And now kicking off the new year of roundups:
If you love Erin the Angry IVFer who is now the Red Beans & Rice Noodles chickie as much as I know you do and you've been searching for a way that you could easily contribute to her adoption fund as she switches from IVF to international adoption (from Vietnam), look no further than Lindland's Cordarounds for your next gift. This is truly the greatest fundraiser ever. First and foremost, you get baby gift shopping out of the way with just a few clicks of the mouse without having to step foot in Buy Buy Baby. Second of all, 100% of the money (yes, they are donating the entire amount to Chuck and Erin) goes to this fund so you are helping out a fellow stirrup queen along the way rather than lining corporate America's pockets (no offense, corporate America. "Why, none taken, Melissa," says corporate America back). We all deserve a fundraiser and Erin is lucky enough to have good friends who care about her and want to help her adopt. Even if you can't contribute because you have no gift to purchase, please consider cutting and pasting the blog link and sending it out to your email list. The more people who know about it the better, and what goes around comes around.
Frank, who is always a good read and he give you that ever elusive male point-of-view, at The Adventures of (In)Fertile Frank tackles this very same topic this week: IVF funding strategies. While my favourite is buskers (especially due to this little nugget: "At the moment I am pushing for the development of an two person Chinese acrobat act, basically spinning and tossing Mrs. Beans through the air using only my feet. Do we have any acrobatic experience? No. Are we even flexible? Not at all, but I really want to perform under the moniker, 'The Mexican Jumping Beans.'"), can collecting is a close second. Plus, empty cans--though bulky--are quite light and easy to ship so we can all help you with your fundraising efforts.
KD at Karaoke Diva has a beautiful post this week about a problem unique to secondary infertility: the child who longs for a sibling as much as you're longing for a child. I loved not only the sweetness of her son's question, but her thoughts on how infertility affects the family and what it makes her feel about herself touched me to the core.
J at Cheese and Whine writes about how she has been blogging about having a child for two years and now she is kicking off her first IVF cycle--a cycle she suspected was imminent for a while. She writes: "It’s somewhat surreal, and scary, and exciting all at the same time. I’m trying to be as calm and relaxed as possible, which, if you know me, isn’t all that easy. Surprisingly, I’m really feeling ok...I am trying to quell the feelings of “something good” happening here mostly to shield myself from disappointment….but, they’re there, and know what? Hope is an ok thing to cling too." Please go over and wish her luck with this cycle.
Alyson and Ford from Imagine Alyzabeth An recorded a conversation with their daughter, Alyzabeth An, this week that both broke my heart and made me smile. I especially love the idea of a baby being placed to be found and how even a hurtful term like abandon can be turned around to reflect love and care. It's a really great post.
Instead of a single post, I'd like to direct your attention to this cool project Lori from Weebles Wobblog has started called Drama 2B Mama. She knows the end of her story--she has adopted two children and she's finally parenting. But she is now tracing back all the twists and turns, all the strange coincidences she can finally see since she has stepped off the family building path. She updates the blog daily, letting the story unfold. We're still back in fertility treatment land. It's a very cool read for anyone who needs to glimpse someone's light at the end of the tunnel.
Line-of-the-Week. The line that made my heart sigh: "I am really thankful that infertility didn't kill my empathy for her" (from Serenity Now!). Please go gather around Serenity and wish her much luck--her beta is this weekend and she needs the support of her fellow stirrup queens.
Now go over to the International Infertility Film Festival and view to your heart's content (and let me know what you think of my entries).
Today also kicks off the second installment of the International Infertility Film Festival. My entry is above this post. Click over to the festival site (run by the amazing Bea) to see all of the fantastic entries. The theme this time around was spring. I submitted my two-part filmaphor. It's a metaphor via film. A filmaphor. Or a cinemalogy. A cinematic analogy. Whichever you choose. The first, Mother Earth's Flower Shop, showed a month or so ago and it explores the multitude of ways people build their families (as told via singing flowers). The second installment is a bit less campy and happy. In fact I cried a lot making it. I cried while singing it and you can probably hear that when my voice cracks. What the Gardener Knows is a song about loss and failed cycles. An explanation for those who wonder if your mood is something they caused or who don't understand how it feels to spend a summer trying to coax life into a garden only to still have an empty plot of land come fall. I hope you enjoy them--and if enjoy isn't quite the right word for the second film, I hope it at least touches you and helps you when you're feeling alone as you stare at your garden bed.
Please help Bea by spreading the word about the film festival via your own blog.
And now kicking off the new year of roundups:
If you love Erin the Angry IVFer who is now the Red Beans & Rice Noodles chickie as much as I know you do and you've been searching for a way that you could easily contribute to her adoption fund as she switches from IVF to international adoption (from Vietnam), look no further than Lindland's Cordarounds for your next gift. This is truly the greatest fundraiser ever. First and foremost, you get baby gift shopping out of the way with just a few clicks of the mouse without having to step foot in Buy Buy Baby. Second of all, 100% of the money (yes, they are donating the entire amount to Chuck and Erin) goes to this fund so you are helping out a fellow stirrup queen along the way rather than lining corporate America's pockets (no offense, corporate America. "Why, none taken, Melissa," says corporate America back). We all deserve a fundraiser and Erin is lucky enough to have good friends who care about her and want to help her adopt. Even if you can't contribute because you have no gift to purchase, please consider cutting and pasting the blog link and sending it out to your email list. The more people who know about it the better, and what goes around comes around.
Frank, who is always a good read and he give you that ever elusive male point-of-view, at The Adventures of (In)Fertile Frank tackles this very same topic this week: IVF funding strategies. While my favourite is buskers (especially due to this little nugget: "At the moment I am pushing for the development of an two person Chinese acrobat act, basically spinning and tossing Mrs. Beans through the air using only my feet. Do we have any acrobatic experience? No. Are we even flexible? Not at all, but I really want to perform under the moniker, 'The Mexican Jumping Beans.'"), can collecting is a close second. Plus, empty cans--though bulky--are quite light and easy to ship so we can all help you with your fundraising efforts.
KD at Karaoke Diva has a beautiful post this week about a problem unique to secondary infertility: the child who longs for a sibling as much as you're longing for a child. I loved not only the sweetness of her son's question, but her thoughts on how infertility affects the family and what it makes her feel about herself touched me to the core.
J at Cheese and Whine writes about how she has been blogging about having a child for two years and now she is kicking off her first IVF cycle--a cycle she suspected was imminent for a while. She writes: "It’s somewhat surreal, and scary, and exciting all at the same time. I’m trying to be as calm and relaxed as possible, which, if you know me, isn’t all that easy. Surprisingly, I’m really feeling ok...I am trying to quell the feelings of “something good” happening here mostly to shield myself from disappointment….but, they’re there, and know what? Hope is an ok thing to cling too." Please go over and wish her luck with this cycle.
Alyson and Ford from Imagine Alyzabeth An recorded a conversation with their daughter, Alyzabeth An, this week that both broke my heart and made me smile. I especially love the idea of a baby being placed to be found and how even a hurtful term like abandon can be turned around to reflect love and care. It's a really great post.
Instead of a single post, I'd like to direct your attention to this cool project Lori from Weebles Wobblog has started called Drama 2B Mama. She knows the end of her story--she has adopted two children and she's finally parenting. But she is now tracing back all the twists and turns, all the strange coincidences she can finally see since she has stepped off the family building path. She updates the blog daily, letting the story unfold. We're still back in fertility treatment land. It's a very cool read for anyone who needs to glimpse someone's light at the end of the tunnel.
Line-of-the-Week. The line that made my heart sigh: "I am really thankful that infertility didn't kill my empathy for her" (from Serenity Now!). Please go gather around Serenity and wish her much luck--her beta is this weekend and she needs the support of her fellow stirrup queens.
Now go over to the International Infertility Film Festival and view to your heart's content (and let me know what you think of my entries).
Thursday, July 26, 2007
I Want to Have Jasper Fforde's IVF Love-Child
It takes a lot to (1) get me out of the house, (2) get me to remain in a crowded space, (3) get me to sit still for an hour, and (4) get me to sit still for an hour next to a man who has quite clearly crapped his pants. But Jasper Fforde has this power.
Last night, I headed downtown for a Jasper Fforde reading. It has been on my calendar ever since he announced that he would be in D.C. on his website's tour page. Which makes me one-third loser, one-third dedicated, and one-third clever (a case in point, this week, I took my son's supersheet away because he kept crawling in between the supersheet and the regular sheet. As he watched me undo his bedding, he told me, "Mommy, you are a clever girl.")
There is a very short list of people I think are interesting enough to get me to sit next to a man whose pants are full of feces. Especially in a crowded room. In the center of a row where I can't really move around and fidget as I like to fidget. I would drive downtown--and have--for a Peggy Orenstein reading. I would go hear the Dixie Chicks speak. I would love to spend an evening receiving cooking lessons from Alton Brown. And I once called Norton Juster at 9 p.m. and got invited over for a tea party later in the week.
This side story is important to understand my whole Jasper Fforde/infertility wrap up at the end of this post so indulge me for a moment, will you? Maybe pause and get another cup of coffee because this is a longer story.
My favourite book growing up was Norton Juster's The Phantom Tollbooth. If you haven't read this book yet, you should go to your local independent bookstore (you like that, Politics and Prose? I always have your back) and purchase a copy today, simply for the best line in the book that applies nicely to infertility treatments, "so many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible." I started reading this book when I was six and I read it over and over again through elementary school. I loved this book so much that I always left the last page unread so I could feel like the book wasn't over.
I liked to buy this book whenever I found it--new or used--so I own many copies. When the anniversary copy came out, I purchased that too. I was in graduate school and I was living in Amherst. One night, I was looking at the biographical information for the author and I noticed that it said that he lived in Amherst, Massachusetts. My heart started pounding and I took out a phone book, certain that he would never have his number listed. But there he was--and he lived only a few streets away from my co-op (of course I lived on a co-op. Did you really think I would live anywhere else?).
Everyone at the co-op told me I should wait until morning to call him because it was rude to call at 9 p.m. But I couldn't wait and those who have ever come close to meeting their idol will probably be able to conjure up the blood-racing excitement I felt knowing I was so close to connecting with him. I called him and he answered. And after a brief phone conversation, I was invited over for tea on his screened porch. It was one of the most incredible afternoons of my life--the man who had made me want to be a writer, the man who had made me love books, was showing me pictures of his grandchildren and telling me stories about how things came to be in my favourite book. It came at a time when I was questioning whether or not I wanted to remain in my MFA program and it was the twist of fate I needed to finish out the degree.
I picked up Jasper Fforde's first book because it was billed at an adult Harry Potter. And it was on a display table. Fforde's character, Thursday Next, was just about as close as you could get to Juster's main character, Milo. Instead of playing with words, Fforde was playing with literature, mucking around in all the classics. It was just good fun and it was a great world that you wished you could visit as much as Diagon Alley.
Though another book has since been published, the fourth book in the series, Something Rotten, was presented as the final book for Thursday Next. I started thinking about this book in the same way I thought about that final page of The Phantom Tollbooth. If I didn't read it, the series wouldn't end. Since I knew we would be trying again, I decided to save it--either for when I was pregnant or sitting in the two-week-wait or just plain depressed--you get the idea.
I still haven't read it. It's just been sitting next to my bed. But this is where the coincidences tie themselves up (just to be clear, we've already had the Juster/Fforde similarities in my love for them and willingness to sit next to someone who reeks of human excrement; the whole last page/last book comparison; the met Juster and it changed my outlook on my situation and we're almost at the part where I talk about meeting Fforde and how it changed my outlook on my situation).
At the reading, Fforde admitted that despite his enormous success (the room was packed--hundreds of people. The last time I had seen Politics and Prose that crowded it was for a Michael Chabon reading after he won the Pulitzer. And the crowd for this reading made the Chabon reading look like it was for John Nobody reading from his book on whale mating rituals), he had written seven books in twelve years before he got his first break (I bolded that sentence because it's important). When he said that, it was as if the lights dimmed for a moment and he turned directly to me in the audience (as I sat squinting in the spotlight, the stench of shit barely noticeable):
"Melissa, learn from my story. Twelve years. Seven books. And none of it was a waste because it brought me here. Keep trying. Start with your own eggs. Run yourself $500,000 in the hole or take yourself up to Cornell. But keep plugging away. And when that doesn't work--because let's be honest when we consider your stim response and your wonky cycles: it probably won't--you should go to donor egg or adoption. But if your family isn't complete, keep trying."
"At the risk of my sanity?" I ask.
"At the risk of your sanity. You can get sanity back."
"You can?" I ask. "Because I'm not so sure. I feel like I'm teetering close to the edge sometimes..."
"Teeter. Let yourself fall. Pick yourself up. Start over. One day you'll be an enormous success in family building as I am in writing. Your children will all come home for Christmas and you'll be standing around the piano singing carols and you'll think to yourself, the twists and turns brought me here."
"We're not Christian," I explain. "And we don't have a piano. But I'm still going to keep trying, Jasper. For you."
This was the point where I came out of my daydream and realized that I was still wedged between two people on a folding chair. Stuck in the center of a row.
When it came time to have my book signed, I was going to just have him sign the first book in the series to be polite to the hundreds of people waiting behind me. But at last moment, I yanked the final, unread book out from my bag as well.
"Could you sign it, 'congratulations'?" I asked the non-daydream, very-real Jasper Fforde when I was standing in front of him.
"What am I congratulating you on?" he questioned, signing my name and the word across the inner title page.
"I can't really answer that. Can we just leave it mysterious?" I said, thinking about how I still have no idea when I will read this book: I will read it when I need it. When I need to get out of this world and be somewhere else for a little bit. Even though there is now a fifth book in the series, this fourth book has taken on such huge significance that it feels wrong to read it until I've accomplished something.
On my way out of the store, I found a book I have wanted for a long time on the remainder shelf. It felt like kismet. Like I should be in the store that night. Like I had been delivered an important message and the literary gods wanted to make sure I didn't miss the fact that the reading was where I was supposed to be. Sometimes it comes in a burning bush. Other times it comes in the form of a remaindered copy of the Daniel Gilbert book you've borrowed from the library a few times. In the end, it's all just fire and smoke to direct your attention to the words.
At this point, I would love to hear who you want to meet badly enough that you would remain wedged between two people for an hour.
Last night, I headed downtown for a Jasper Fforde reading. It has been on my calendar ever since he announced that he would be in D.C. on his website's tour page. Which makes me one-third loser, one-third dedicated, and one-third clever (a case in point, this week, I took my son's supersheet away because he kept crawling in between the supersheet and the regular sheet. As he watched me undo his bedding, he told me, "Mommy, you are a clever girl.")
There is a very short list of people I think are interesting enough to get me to sit next to a man whose pants are full of feces. Especially in a crowded room. In the center of a row where I can't really move around and fidget as I like to fidget. I would drive downtown--and have--for a Peggy Orenstein reading. I would go hear the Dixie Chicks speak. I would love to spend an evening receiving cooking lessons from Alton Brown. And I once called Norton Juster at 9 p.m. and got invited over for a tea party later in the week.
This side story is important to understand my whole Jasper Fforde/infertility wrap up at the end of this post so indulge me for a moment, will you? Maybe pause and get another cup of coffee because this is a longer story.
My favourite book growing up was Norton Juster's The Phantom Tollbooth. If you haven't read this book yet, you should go to your local independent bookstore (you like that, Politics and Prose? I always have your back) and purchase a copy today, simply for the best line in the book that applies nicely to infertility treatments, "so many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible." I started reading this book when I was six and I read it over and over again through elementary school. I loved this book so much that I always left the last page unread so I could feel like the book wasn't over.
I liked to buy this book whenever I found it--new or used--so I own many copies. When the anniversary copy came out, I purchased that too. I was in graduate school and I was living in Amherst. One night, I was looking at the biographical information for the author and I noticed that it said that he lived in Amherst, Massachusetts. My heart started pounding and I took out a phone book, certain that he would never have his number listed. But there he was--and he lived only a few streets away from my co-op (of course I lived on a co-op. Did you really think I would live anywhere else?).
Everyone at the co-op told me I should wait until morning to call him because it was rude to call at 9 p.m. But I couldn't wait and those who have ever come close to meeting their idol will probably be able to conjure up the blood-racing excitement I felt knowing I was so close to connecting with him. I called him and he answered. And after a brief phone conversation, I was invited over for tea on his screened porch. It was one of the most incredible afternoons of my life--the man who had made me want to be a writer, the man who had made me love books, was showing me pictures of his grandchildren and telling me stories about how things came to be in my favourite book. It came at a time when I was questioning whether or not I wanted to remain in my MFA program and it was the twist of fate I needed to finish out the degree.
I picked up Jasper Fforde's first book because it was billed at an adult Harry Potter. And it was on a display table. Fforde's character, Thursday Next, was just about as close as you could get to Juster's main character, Milo. Instead of playing with words, Fforde was playing with literature, mucking around in all the classics. It was just good fun and it was a great world that you wished you could visit as much as Diagon Alley.
Though another book has since been published, the fourth book in the series, Something Rotten, was presented as the final book for Thursday Next. I started thinking about this book in the same way I thought about that final page of The Phantom Tollbooth. If I didn't read it, the series wouldn't end. Since I knew we would be trying again, I decided to save it--either for when I was pregnant or sitting in the two-week-wait or just plain depressed--you get the idea.
I still haven't read it. It's just been sitting next to my bed. But this is where the coincidences tie themselves up (just to be clear, we've already had the Juster/Fforde similarities in my love for them and willingness to sit next to someone who reeks of human excrement; the whole last page/last book comparison; the met Juster and it changed my outlook on my situation and we're almost at the part where I talk about meeting Fforde and how it changed my outlook on my situation).
At the reading, Fforde admitted that despite his enormous success (the room was packed--hundreds of people. The last time I had seen Politics and Prose that crowded it was for a Michael Chabon reading after he won the Pulitzer. And the crowd for this reading made the Chabon reading look like it was for John Nobody reading from his book on whale mating rituals), he had written seven books in twelve years before he got his first break (I bolded that sentence because it's important). When he said that, it was as if the lights dimmed for a moment and he turned directly to me in the audience (as I sat squinting in the spotlight, the stench of shit barely noticeable):
"Melissa, learn from my story. Twelve years. Seven books. And none of it was a waste because it brought me here. Keep trying. Start with your own eggs. Run yourself $500,000 in the hole or take yourself up to Cornell. But keep plugging away. And when that doesn't work--because let's be honest when we consider your stim response and your wonky cycles: it probably won't--you should go to donor egg or adoption. But if your family isn't complete, keep trying."
"At the risk of my sanity?" I ask.
"At the risk of your sanity. You can get sanity back."
"You can?" I ask. "Because I'm not so sure. I feel like I'm teetering close to the edge sometimes..."
"Teeter. Let yourself fall. Pick yourself up. Start over. One day you'll be an enormous success in family building as I am in writing. Your children will all come home for Christmas and you'll be standing around the piano singing carols and you'll think to yourself, the twists and turns brought me here."
"We're not Christian," I explain. "And we don't have a piano. But I'm still going to keep trying, Jasper. For you."
This was the point where I came out of my daydream and realized that I was still wedged between two people on a folding chair. Stuck in the center of a row.
When it came time to have my book signed, I was going to just have him sign the first book in the series to be polite to the hundreds of people waiting behind me. But at last moment, I yanked the final, unread book out from my bag as well.
"Could you sign it, 'congratulations'?" I asked the non-daydream, very-real Jasper Fforde when I was standing in front of him.
"What am I congratulating you on?" he questioned, signing my name and the word across the inner title page.
"I can't really answer that. Can we just leave it mysterious?" I said, thinking about how I still have no idea when I will read this book: I will read it when I need it. When I need to get out of this world and be somewhere else for a little bit. Even though there is now a fifth book in the series, this fourth book has taken on such huge significance that it feels wrong to read it until I've accomplished something.
On my way out of the store, I found a book I have wanted for a long time on the remainder shelf. It felt like kismet. Like I should be in the store that night. Like I had been delivered an important message and the literary gods wanted to make sure I didn't miss the fact that the reading was where I was supposed to be. Sometimes it comes in a burning bush. Other times it comes in the form of a remaindered copy of the Daniel Gilbert book you've borrowed from the library a few times. In the end, it's all just fire and smoke to direct your attention to the words.
At this point, I would love to hear who you want to meet badly enough that you would remain wedged between two people for an hour.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
What's Happening at One Smart Mama?
Updated: 1:13 p.m. 7/24/07
Current Post: Spot of Tea
Keep sending those questions--thetowncriers@gmail.com.
Current Post: Spot of Tea
Keep sending those questions--thetowncriers@gmail.com.
Finding the Silver Lining
When we were on vacation, I pointed out the obvious benefit of infertility to Josh--we would never need to pay for birth control again. Spontaneous and Pill-free could be our new middle names. Of course, there are all the Secret Hope Stories about infertile women being bitten in the ass by this assumption when they're finished with family building. But we're grabbing silver linings wherever we can find them.
"There must be more things that are good about infertility if we wanted to get all Pollyanna about this," I said.
"You get to have a lot of Starbucks," he said after some thought. "You probably wouldn't stop to get yourself coffee on a normal day, but since the Starbucks is next to the clinic, you end up treating yourself on blood work days. Plus, there's all the waiting we did over white chocolate mochas."
"I like my sharps box. It's a great receptacle for stickers. Like when you go and vote and they give you that "I voted" sticker to wear for the rest of the day? You get home at night and you don't know what to do with that sticker. But the sharps container is a great place to stick it."
We ended up drawing a blank after coming up with these three silver linings (beyond the even more Pollyanna-ish "infertility has taught me to be a better person."). So please add any silver linings you've discovered because I'd like to compile a list of ten. Things always seem more true if you can list them in tens. You may need to do some stretching... In fact, the farther the stretch, the better. Get your thinking caps on this morning. I'll update the list below as silver linings come in through the comments section.
"There must be more things that are good about infertility if we wanted to get all Pollyanna about this," I said.
"You get to have a lot of Starbucks," he said after some thought. "You probably wouldn't stop to get yourself coffee on a normal day, but since the Starbucks is next to the clinic, you end up treating yourself on blood work days. Plus, there's all the waiting we did over white chocolate mochas."
"I like my sharps box. It's a great receptacle for stickers. Like when you go and vote and they give you that "I voted" sticker to wear for the rest of the day? You get home at night and you don't know what to do with that sticker. But the sharps container is a great place to stick it."
We ended up drawing a blank after coming up with these three silver linings (beyond the even more Pollyanna-ish "infertility has taught me to be a better person."). So please add any silver linings you've discovered because I'd like to compile a list of ten. Things always seem more true if you can list them in tens. You may need to do some stretching... In fact, the farther the stretch, the better. Get your thinking caps on this morning. I'll update the list below as silver linings come in through the comments section.
The Silver Linings of Infertility
as compiled by stirrup queens and sperm palace jesters everywhere
as compiled by stirrup queens and sperm palace jesters everywhere
1. Never have to worry about birth control.
2. Get to treat myself to special coffee drinks more often.
3. Nifty sharps container becomes a receptacle for leftover stickers at the end of the day.
4. Get to experience a large variety and volume of wine.
5. No problems at a French restaurant (runny cheeses, alcohol, undercooked stuff).
6. Breakfast (and other meals) stay put in your stomach.
7. Built-in excuse for bad days, "oh, it must be the hormones I'm on..."
8. Being able to do what we want when we want - just get up and go.
9. The secret knowledge that you're bad-ass enough to give yourself shots.
10. Lunch out on monitoring days when there isn't enough time to pack lunch.
11. Hone your flexibility.
12. Get to meet people who you never would have met otherwise, and they all understand you on levels that even your best friend cannot.
13. Made me more sensitive to others.
14. I have a lot less tolerance for other people's BS. As a result, I've actually been much better about speaking my mind and standing up for myself.
15. Sushi and Coca-Cola anytime I want since I'm not pregnant.
16. Getting to wear yoga pants to my "professional dress" office because they are the only pants that will fit over my bloated belly.
17. Darkest chocolate we can find during shot phases.
18. Opportunity to stay current on recent trends and artistic motifs in contemporary pornography during visits to sperm palace.
19. Instantly able to top most horrible pregnancy/birth stories.
20. Being put on Metformin for my PCOS-induced blood-sugar issues means I'm less likely to develop Type II diabetes in the future.
21. It has made me much more aware of how other people suffer their own conditions in silence. I try to be compassionate to others when they complain, because pain is pain, no matter what the cause.
22. My clinic is next to Krispy Kreme, so I get lots of donuts!
23. I can go to happy hour once a week and bitch with my friend about this stupid journey and drink my little heart away.
24. Actually knowing what goes on each and every cycle. How many women not dealing with IF understand how the body works and what happens from one day to another when cycling?
25. Sonograms are pretty cool. I dig seeing those follicles grow.
26. Getting to know the people in my clinic. One of my sonogram techs in particular is an amazing woman who has struggled long and hard with IF herself. Without my own struggles, I would never have the pleasure of meeting her.
27. Get to pee on lots of stuff each month.
28. Going to the big city for doc appointments - so that means good restaurants and shops.
29. Strengthening my relationship with my husband.
30. Not having to commit to anything because I "might" have to go to the doctor that day.
31. Knowing that this will make me a better parent with a greater sense of empathy.
32. Knowing that I can rely completely on my husband for emotional support.
33. Finding support in the unlikeliest of places - my MIL for example. I love that I know who my real friends/family members are, the ones who I can rely on when things go to shit.
34. No post-pregnancy tummy tuck!
35. Having something to blame your weight gain on. I'd rather blame it on a baby, but mentioning "my 10 lbs comes from the fertility drugs" always gets met with sympathy.
36. I am put on the "smart pedestal" by everyone I know who is TTC.
37. I'm healthy! I've taken more vitamins than anyone else because I've taken these damned prenatals everyday for years.
38. I can get out of work or a meeting at the drop of a hat if I have to go in for u/s monitoring, IUI, etc.
39. Discovering how much you two can really get through together.
40. Sitting in a work meeting with your husband, knowing that only you two know that he was late because he was sperminating, and I left in the middle because I was taking that sperm.
41. Putting together fun "donation" kits for the hubby, taking pics of donation rooms and accupuncture - getting new stories to tell out of all of that.
42. Learning new things. IUI can be quite fascinating! We're dorks...
43. Conquering fears - I was able to give up my intense fear of getting needles. I've even learned to give them to myself!
44. I never knew what a blog was before this, so infertility gave me blogging.
45. Infertility may have saved my life (after all, I may have died in a plane crash if I had spent that 50K on cool vacations instead).
46. Nobody tries to nag me into baby-sitting any small cousins or nieces. Ever. Either because they believe I wouldn't know what way up to hold a baby, or because they're scared I'll steal theirs, like crazy infertile ladies are supposed to do. This used to annoy me but hey, the free time and lack of responsibilities is very nice.
47. I'm doing a full-time degree and working part-time. I'm doing this because I can't get pregnant and I need a 'the rest of my life'. And look, I get a degree out of it! How many other people get a whole degree out of their coping strategies?
48. Ice-cream is apparently good for fertility. So I eat ice-cream for my health. So there.
49. Getting to be a stay at home Mom. Without all the struggle and heartache to get our children, we may not have realized just how precious this gift is and to take full advantage of enjoying it every moment possible. From the moment my daughter was born I couldn't stand the thought of being away from her so much, so I quit my job.
50. I'm always able to justify baking brownies or cupcakes in anticipation of another BFN. The proceeding to sit down with a fork (or not!) and chow on them.
51. Being able to tell your kids (when you get kids) that you REALLY loved them and wanted them -- else you would not have spent $100K MAKING them.
52. Knowing that you'll be a thoughtful and loving parent (see $100K comment above -- no one does that for the hell of it).
53. If you have a problem with needles, you get over it. If you have a problem with doctors, you get over it. If you have a sense of modesty/discomfort with nudity/keeping your privates private... you get over that, too.
54. If it fails, and you don't get the first child or the second child or however many you want--you have just saved an enormous amount of money you would've spent on their college tuition.
55. You will always get to have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
56. You will never be obligated to clean up someone else's shit, pee, or vomit. You will only have to do it if you WANT to.
57. You will never have to spend time in a pediatrician's office or a pediatric ER. (See above notes on vomit, etc...).
58. Seeing an RE led to finally getting diagnosed with PCOS and hypothyroidism. Medications for both have helped me lose 40lbs.
59. When the high-maintenance relatives want to stay at your place instead of a hotel, there's nothing like saying "I'm sorry, but we're trying to get pregnant and this just isn't a good time to have houseguests."
60. If I'm running really late for work, I can always call and say that I had to stop at the lab to give more blood because hey -- it's certainly feasible! :) I save this for the rarest of occasions, but it's a nice save when I really need it.
61. Infertility taught me you never know what you'll do or how you'll react until your actually in a particular situation. It's so easy to say, "I'd never do IVF" when you've never really had to make that choice.
62. Airplane travel! that is one time i am not jealous of anyone with kids.
63. With a independent daughter who's nearly six we can leave her with the grandparents or aunt/uncles or even friends. When there is only one, anyone will take her for the night and even for the weekend, which means more me and husband time, which as you know, is vital when going through the stress of infertility and treatments.
64. You develop mad internet research skills.
65. You can read medical handwriting.
66. My work with my RE has changed the relationship with all of my doctors. I can ask better questions and come from a more informed place.
67. You now have a working map in your head of the best places for chocolate in relation to the clinic. Bonus if you're on a first name basis with store staff.
68. The longer it takes to get pregnant, the longer I get to hang on to my beloved (but two door) Sebring convertible.
And here I was struggling to come up with 10! Keep them coming...this list is sweet and sad and funny all at once.
2. Get to treat myself to special coffee drinks more often.
3. Nifty sharps container becomes a receptacle for leftover stickers at the end of the day.
4. Get to experience a large variety and volume of wine.
5. No problems at a French restaurant (runny cheeses, alcohol, undercooked stuff).
6. Breakfast (and other meals) stay put in your stomach.
7. Built-in excuse for bad days, "oh, it must be the hormones I'm on..."
8. Being able to do what we want when we want - just get up and go.
9. The secret knowledge that you're bad-ass enough to give yourself shots.
10. Lunch out on monitoring days when there isn't enough time to pack lunch.
11. Hone your flexibility.
12. Get to meet people who you never would have met otherwise, and they all understand you on levels that even your best friend cannot.
13. Made me more sensitive to others.
14. I have a lot less tolerance for other people's BS. As a result, I've actually been much better about speaking my mind and standing up for myself.
15. Sushi and Coca-Cola anytime I want since I'm not pregnant.
16. Getting to wear yoga pants to my "professional dress" office because they are the only pants that will fit over my bloated belly.
17. Darkest chocolate we can find during shot phases.
18. Opportunity to stay current on recent trends and artistic motifs in contemporary pornography during visits to sperm palace.
19. Instantly able to top most horrible pregnancy/birth stories.
20. Being put on Metformin for my PCOS-induced blood-sugar issues means I'm less likely to develop Type II diabetes in the future.
21. It has made me much more aware of how other people suffer their own conditions in silence. I try to be compassionate to others when they complain, because pain is pain, no matter what the cause.
22. My clinic is next to Krispy Kreme, so I get lots of donuts!
23. I can go to happy hour once a week and bitch with my friend about this stupid journey and drink my little heart away.
24. Actually knowing what goes on each and every cycle. How many women not dealing with IF understand how the body works and what happens from one day to another when cycling?
25. Sonograms are pretty cool. I dig seeing those follicles grow.
26. Getting to know the people in my clinic. One of my sonogram techs in particular is an amazing woman who has struggled long and hard with IF herself. Without my own struggles, I would never have the pleasure of meeting her.
27. Get to pee on lots of stuff each month.
28. Going to the big city for doc appointments - so that means good restaurants and shops.
29. Strengthening my relationship with my husband.
30. Not having to commit to anything because I "might" have to go to the doctor that day.
31. Knowing that this will make me a better parent with a greater sense of empathy.
32. Knowing that I can rely completely on my husband for emotional support.
33. Finding support in the unlikeliest of places - my MIL for example. I love that I know who my real friends/family members are, the ones who I can rely on when things go to shit.
34. No post-pregnancy tummy tuck!
35. Having something to blame your weight gain on. I'd rather blame it on a baby, but mentioning "my 10 lbs comes from the fertility drugs" always gets met with sympathy.
36. I am put on the "smart pedestal" by everyone I know who is TTC.
37. I'm healthy! I've taken more vitamins than anyone else because I've taken these damned prenatals everyday for years.
38. I can get out of work or a meeting at the drop of a hat if I have to go in for u/s monitoring, IUI, etc.
39. Discovering how much you two can really get through together.
40. Sitting in a work meeting with your husband, knowing that only you two know that he was late because he was sperminating, and I left in the middle because I was taking that sperm.
41. Putting together fun "donation" kits for the hubby, taking pics of donation rooms and accupuncture - getting new stories to tell out of all of that.
42. Learning new things. IUI can be quite fascinating! We're dorks...
43. Conquering fears - I was able to give up my intense fear of getting needles. I've even learned to give them to myself!
44. I never knew what a blog was before this, so infertility gave me blogging.
45. Infertility may have saved my life (after all, I may have died in a plane crash if I had spent that 50K on cool vacations instead).
46. Nobody tries to nag me into baby-sitting any small cousins or nieces. Ever. Either because they believe I wouldn't know what way up to hold a baby, or because they're scared I'll steal theirs, like crazy infertile ladies are supposed to do. This used to annoy me but hey, the free time and lack of responsibilities is very nice.
47. I'm doing a full-time degree and working part-time. I'm doing this because I can't get pregnant and I need a 'the rest of my life'. And look, I get a degree out of it! How many other people get a whole degree out of their coping strategies?
48. Ice-cream is apparently good for fertility. So I eat ice-cream for my health. So there.
49. Getting to be a stay at home Mom. Without all the struggle and heartache to get our children, we may not have realized just how precious this gift is and to take full advantage of enjoying it every moment possible. From the moment my daughter was born I couldn't stand the thought of being away from her so much, so I quit my job.
50. I'm always able to justify baking brownies or cupcakes in anticipation of another BFN. The proceeding to sit down with a fork (or not!) and chow on them.
51. Being able to tell your kids (when you get kids) that you REALLY loved them and wanted them -- else you would not have spent $100K MAKING them.
52. Knowing that you'll be a thoughtful and loving parent (see $100K comment above -- no one does that for the hell of it).
53. If you have a problem with needles, you get over it. If you have a problem with doctors, you get over it. If you have a sense of modesty/discomfort with nudity/keeping your privates private... you get over that, too.
54. If it fails, and you don't get the first child or the second child or however many you want--you have just saved an enormous amount of money you would've spent on their college tuition.
55. You will always get to have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
56. You will never be obligated to clean up someone else's shit, pee, or vomit. You will only have to do it if you WANT to.
57. You will never have to spend time in a pediatrician's office or a pediatric ER. (See above notes on vomit, etc...).
58. Seeing an RE led to finally getting diagnosed with PCOS and hypothyroidism. Medications for both have helped me lose 40lbs.
59. When the high-maintenance relatives want to stay at your place instead of a hotel, there's nothing like saying "I'm sorry, but we're trying to get pregnant and this just isn't a good time to have houseguests."
60. If I'm running really late for work, I can always call and say that I had to stop at the lab to give more blood because hey -- it's certainly feasible! :) I save this for the rarest of occasions, but it's a nice save when I really need it.
61. Infertility taught me you never know what you'll do or how you'll react until your actually in a particular situation. It's so easy to say, "I'd never do IVF" when you've never really had to make that choice.
62. Airplane travel! that is one time i am not jealous of anyone with kids.
63. With a independent daughter who's nearly six we can leave her with the grandparents or aunt/uncles or even friends. When there is only one, anyone will take her for the night and even for the weekend, which means more me and husband time, which as you know, is vital when going through the stress of infertility and treatments.
64. You develop mad internet research skills.
65. You can read medical handwriting.
66. My work with my RE has changed the relationship with all of my doctors. I can ask better questions and come from a more informed place.
67. You now have a working map in your head of the best places for chocolate in relation to the clinic. Bonus if you're on a first name basis with store staff.
68. The longer it takes to get pregnant, the longer I get to hang on to my beloved (but two door) Sebring convertible.
And here I was struggling to come up with 10! Keep them coming...this list is sweet and sad and funny all at once.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Comparative Cinemology
There is probably a more correct name for comparative film studies, but since I don't know it, you'll need to make do with my current title.
I saw the new Harry Potter film today. I could write a long post about what Harry Potter means to me and it has very little to do with the books themselves but instead how they appeared at different points in my life. But that sounds a little self-indulgent, so instead I will say that at the core of Harry Potter is a boy who is missing two people he never knew. How can that not appeal to an infertile heart? Both the first time around and now this time trying again, I spend every month mourning not a child I know intimately--can describe and hold and tell you whether they like the crusts on or off their sandwich. I'm mourning someone who wasn't. I'm mourning the fact that I don't know them when I'd like very much to have them in my life. I am wondering how life would be different if they were here. Harry isn't missing his parents in the sense that he has many fond memories tied to these two people--he's missing the potential, the relationship that is supposed to be there. A child is supposed to have parents in the same way that a woman who is a mother at heart is supposed to have children.
In Dispatches From the Edge, Anderson Cooper writes about the loss of his brother, "Many times that year, I wished I had a scar, a missing limb, something children could have pointed at, at which adults could tell them not to stare. At least then they would have known. I wouldn't have been expected to smile and mingle, meet and greet. Everyone could have seen that, like a broken locket, I had only half a heart."
A broken locket.
That's not really the connection between those two thoughts--the locket--but I loved those four sentences because they summed up so well the silent battle--the silent wars. The ones we have that no one knows about. The personal losses. Harry's losses are widely-known in the wizarding world. I think as a society, we have a better acceptance and understanding of that kind of loss: a child is supposed to have parents and when those parents are missing, the mourning is obvious and clear-cut. As a society, we don't really know what to do with other forms of loss--the kind that can be hidden entirely if we choose. Unless told, people don't know who are the childless mothers. And even once they're told, they don't always understand. They can't visualize the missing person in the same way an almost-mother or almost-father can visualize their not-yet child.
For the IIFF, I'm finishing the second part of the two films we started last month. The first one explains to children about the multitude of ways people become parents. The second explores the emotions of infertility.
You will have to wait until Friday when the film festival shows to learn the whole analogy, but it is about missing those who aren't here: the not-yet children who either weren't conceived at all during a failed cycle, or made it to embryo but didn't implant during an IVF attempt, or those who became small flowers, blooming and growing only to be lost before they could stand strong in the sun. I have cried a lot this week drawing the pictures for it and listening to the song play.
Here are some pictures and words until the film shows on Friday--a sneak preview or a still-trailer. If you haven't made a film for this festival, there is still time. I know it sounds like there isn't time since the festival is four days away, and perhaps there isn't time to make the movie you want, but there is time to make a movie that can explain to people an aspect of infertility or loss. The theme for this festival is seasons, hence the garden and flower imagery. You can peruse past entries for ideas and use computer programs to compile your own movie.
I saw the new Harry Potter film today. I could write a long post about what Harry Potter means to me and it has very little to do with the books themselves but instead how they appeared at different points in my life. But that sounds a little self-indulgent, so instead I will say that at the core of Harry Potter is a boy who is missing two people he never knew. How can that not appeal to an infertile heart? Both the first time around and now this time trying again, I spend every month mourning not a child I know intimately--can describe and hold and tell you whether they like the crusts on or off their sandwich. I'm mourning someone who wasn't. I'm mourning the fact that I don't know them when I'd like very much to have them in my life. I am wondering how life would be different if they were here. Harry isn't missing his parents in the sense that he has many fond memories tied to these two people--he's missing the potential, the relationship that is supposed to be there. A child is supposed to have parents in the same way that a woman who is a mother at heart is supposed to have children.
In Dispatches From the Edge, Anderson Cooper writes about the loss of his brother, "Many times that year, I wished I had a scar, a missing limb, something children could have pointed at, at which adults could tell them not to stare. At least then they would have known. I wouldn't have been expected to smile and mingle, meet and greet. Everyone could have seen that, like a broken locket, I had only half a heart."
A broken locket.
That's not really the connection between those two thoughts--the locket--but I loved those four sentences because they summed up so well the silent battle--the silent wars. The ones we have that no one knows about. The personal losses. Harry's losses are widely-known in the wizarding world. I think as a society, we have a better acceptance and understanding of that kind of loss: a child is supposed to have parents and when those parents are missing, the mourning is obvious and clear-cut. As a society, we don't really know what to do with other forms of loss--the kind that can be hidden entirely if we choose. Unless told, people don't know who are the childless mothers. And even once they're told, they don't always understand. They can't visualize the missing person in the same way an almost-mother or almost-father can visualize their not-yet child.
For the IIFF, I'm finishing the second part of the two films we started last month. The first one explains to children about the multitude of ways people become parents. The second explores the emotions of infertility.
You will have to wait until Friday when the film festival shows to learn the whole analogy, but it is about missing those who aren't here: the not-yet children who either weren't conceived at all during a failed cycle, or made it to embryo but didn't implant during an IVF attempt, or those who became small flowers, blooming and growing only to be lost before they could stand strong in the sun. I have cried a lot this week drawing the pictures for it and listening to the song play.
Here are some pictures and words until the film shows on Friday--a sneak preview or a still-trailer. If you haven't made a film for this festival, there is still time. I know it sounds like there isn't time since the festival is four days away, and perhaps there isn't time to make the movie you want, but there is time to make a movie that can explain to people an aspect of infertility or loss. The theme for this festival is seasons, hence the garden and flower imagery. You can peruse past entries for ideas and use computer programs to compile your own movie.
I scatter seeds / you can't see just what I sow / but the gardener knows
Broken hearts from missing flowers / that were never found / up above the ground
I still love you / when you don't appear / and remain only a dream
Friday, July 20, 2007
Friday Blog Roundup Extravaganza
Updated (look for the red writing below):
It's the one year anniversary of the Friday Blog Roundup tomorrow.
First and foremost, to all the participants, thank you doing this--for participating and reading and writing about all of these wonderful blogs. I wanted to write back a personal thank you to everyone and then my period got in the way...aaaah, see, you all understand the way the sight of my Truman Capote after an evening of hope (complete with wasted pee stick) can grind motivation to a halt. So a big public thank you instead.
For the most part, the only editing I did was to remove any references that could narrow down the blog reviewer to a small pool of possible contenders. Though technically, if you want to reveal yourself to your blogger or make an impassioned plea for information on your own blog, I can't stop you. After all, I...um...know my reviewer since that sort of couldn't be helped. But just to make it clear for anyone dropping in for the first time today--the posts below were chosen secretly by another blogger in the blogosphere. Each blogger was assigned a single blog to read from July 2006 to July 2007 and they chose a single post that spoke to them--that became their favourite. If you enjoy reading this list, know that you're only 6 months away from the Creme de la Creme when we'll be making a similar compilation for your reading enjoyment.
Mostly, I just want to thank the whole community (not just the people who participated in the Roundup Celebration this time)--for writing posts that change the way I view the world or bring insight to my own journey or help me work through emotions precisely when I need a push to bring things to the surface. Reading another person's thoughts is such a gift and I feel lucky to live in the time of blogs--where I can jump through hundreds of points of view and come to a better understanding of my own. Thank you.
Writing the roundup and keeping track of favourite posts is one of the best parts of my week. So cheers--here's to the last 52 weeks and a tip of the glass to the upcoming 52 weeks of roundups. And thank you for reading it when I write it.
If your blog is reviewed here, please add a comment in the comment section talking about the post that was chosen--where you were mentally when you wrote it, what has changed in your life since that entry, what is still the same, and how you feel about the chosen entry. Please make sure you write your blog name in the comment so people can read your thoughts after they read your post.
It's the one year anniversary of the Friday Blog Roundup tomorrow.
First and foremost, to all the participants, thank you doing this--for participating and reading and writing about all of these wonderful blogs. I wanted to write back a personal thank you to everyone and then my period got in the way...aaaah, see, you all understand the way the sight of my Truman Capote after an evening of hope (complete with wasted pee stick) can grind motivation to a halt. So a big public thank you instead.
For the most part, the only editing I did was to remove any references that could narrow down the blog reviewer to a small pool of possible contenders. Though technically, if you want to reveal yourself to your blogger or make an impassioned plea for information on your own blog, I can't stop you. After all, I...um...know my reviewer since that sort of couldn't be helped. But just to make it clear for anyone dropping in for the first time today--the posts below were chosen secretly by another blogger in the blogosphere. Each blogger was assigned a single blog to read from July 2006 to July 2007 and they chose a single post that spoke to them--that became their favourite. If you enjoy reading this list, know that you're only 6 months away from the Creme de la Creme when we'll be making a similar compilation for your reading enjoyment.
Mostly, I just want to thank the whole community (not just the people who participated in the Roundup Celebration this time)--for writing posts that change the way I view the world or bring insight to my own journey or help me work through emotions precisely when I need a push to bring things to the surface. Reading another person's thoughts is such a gift and I feel lucky to live in the time of blogs--where I can jump through hundreds of points of view and come to a better understanding of my own. Thank you.
Writing the roundup and keeping track of favourite posts is one of the best parts of my week. So cheers--here's to the last 52 weeks and a tip of the glass to the upcoming 52 weeks of roundups. And thank you for reading it when I write it.
If your blog is reviewed here, please add a comment in the comment section talking about the post that was chosen--where you were mentally when you wrote it, what has changed in your life since that entry, what is still the same, and how you feel about the chosen entry. Please make sure you write your blog name in the comment so people can read your thoughts after they read your post.
The Roundup Celebration List
(though new posts have pushed these older posts down into the archives, feel free--um, or more accurately, please do--leave a comment for the writer letting her know how much you enjoyed her words)
(though new posts have pushed these older posts down into the archives, feel free--um, or more accurately, please do--leave a comment for the writer letting her know how much you enjoyed her words)
- Glossary of All of My Made Up Words (from Stirrup Queens): I read your entire freaking blog this week, and it was a whole lotta blog. My wordy word. Since I've read the bulk of it before, I paused many, many times, remembering those moments when my perceptions changed, or my thoughts crystalized - those wonderful moments where the world just stopped and shifted around, like a scene from The Matrix, leaving me staring stupidly and going, "Coooool..." As I rounded for the home straight (January-July 07) I started getting worried. How on earth was I going to choose just one? Then I had a little lightbulb moment of my own. Because one of the great things about your blog is those crystalizing instants and those invented terms which can sum them up so well they've entered the lexicon of our community. The lexicon! Therefore I present to you this post (with bonus click-throughs to many greatest hits) from the woman who's rewriting the language of infertility.
- The Missionary Postion (from The Vicious Cycle of Cycles): The witty Erin coins the term "Infertourettes" and discusses why sometimes sharing IF tips with fertiles can be tricky.
- Redefining Me (from My Many Blessings): I had a really hard time choosing, but this post spoke to me just a little bit more than the others that I was considering. Tina has come so far in the past year, and this post really shows that. The perspective and peace she has attained with regards to her recurrent losses is inspiring. This post is a reflection on moving forward and loving the now, but still holding the past and the lessons learned in a special place.
- What Kind of Person am I? (from Southern Infertility): A reflection on the role IF plays in shaping the person the writer has become, both positively and negatively. This post is an interesting look at the question of how experiencing adversity makes us 'stronger'.
- At Risk Behavior (from Waiting for ...?): An honest look at her real motivations, strengths, and weakness; this is a touching post that explores feelings that are seldom discussed, but probably more commonly felt than we realize.
- An Angel in Heaven (from My Journey Towards My Little Miracle): I know this post will be a hard one for everyone to read, especially Sunny, but out of her full year of posts--this moved me the most. It is a sad post--a post where there is loss. But most importantly in this post--you find HOPE and FAITH! "I am so blessed to have had 8 weeks of life growing inside of me. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Life is an amazing thing." She immediately looked at the gift she was given: a human life, no matter how small or for how short a time. And now her angel child watches over her and Grumps every day. What an amazing couple Sunny and Grumps are--they inspire me, and I am renewed of hope and faith knowing that they believe that there is a plan for their life. Thank you Sunny and Grumps for the faith you gave me today...
- Baby Beginnings and Grief and Letter to My Baby Beginnings (from Serenity Now!): Two beautiful posts about Serenity’s grief for her baby beginnings.
- The Awful Truth...or To Tell or Not To Tell (from Nearly Dawn...): A post about the conflicted feelings associated with IF and with "coming out" to friends and co-workers.
- Rainy Friday (from Mrs. Spock):Mrs. Spock always has fascinating stories to tell about her life as an ICU nurse. This post is especially interesting, with her vivid descriptions and frank assessments.
- Embodiment (from Living with the Cards I Was Dealt): The concept of embodiment painted such an elegant portrait of how so many of us feel. Wanttobeamom conveys the deep hurt IF can inflict.
- Mother's Day (from Fertile Hope): Trish wonders what it means to be a mother after her miscarriage. Have tissues handy.
- Just, Everything (from Nuts in May): As the title states, this post is about everything and the kitchen sink. I particularly related to the part where she spoke about “H” dealing in the typical male fashion of ignoring an issue so as to avoid conflict when in fact his avoidance causes more friction than to just deal with it. She says, “He should think himself very lucky I’m currently far too apathetic to do anything so energetic as shrieking.”
- Hot Forks, Sharp Knives, and Rusty Nails (from Tales From My Dusty Ovaries): A refreshingly honest response to pregnancy announcements and why it's hard to find joy even when the "breeder" is your best friend. I really liked this post because I feel the same way and I often feel guilty for feeling that way. Just as Leah pointed out, I know it's not rational to want to inflict emotional pain on someone who is simply joyful about their pregnancy, but at the time, I truly want their heart to hurt the way mine hurts. This post really spoke to me and helped me realize that I'm not a bad person for feeling this way.
- Bam! (from I Will Be Mom): This post could be written by any number of women who have experienced infertility. In it, BabyBlues describes how the grief of infertility hit her like a bolt out of the blue when they were flying home from their vacation. "What was that about? Does this ever happen to you? When everything seems to be doing fine, it creeps up behind you and just rips you to pieces. I know I'm sensitive and sometimes emotional. But whenever this happens, it's just so hard to shake off. Sometimes there are triggers, such as seeing a mother and child, but sometimes, like this instance, no trigger at all. BAM! It just hits me! And it hits hard." This is EXACTLY how I feel at random times. I plod on in my life and really do feel okay for the most part, and when I least expect, it hits me hard, the grief, the loss - the pain is almost physical. In this post, BabyBlues has articulated it beautifully....
- Heartbeat (from Sticky Feet): This post reflects the relief of seeing the heartbeat of a baby that followed years of struggling to become parents.
- Forever Changed (from Changing Expectations): A reflection on how the world used to seem so fresh and exciting, and how the author would like to return to feelings like that even though she knows her life experiences have changed her innocent views.
- Thankful (from My Journey): M. uses Thanksgiving as an opportunity to write about all the things she's thankful for. It's a post we all need to write every once in a while, a post that makes you clear the cobwebs in your mind and to find all the reasons to be thankful.
- Life is Ironic (from Tigger's Infertility Madness...): I liked this post because it was so real to me. Everyone gets the "why me" and it's so hard, especially when your loved ones are the ones who are triggering your pain. I could relate to how Tigger was feeling...joy for her friend but such terrible sadness for herself, too.
- Mourning My Section (from The Twinkies): This post tries to explain what she missed and why she wishes things had been different and hoping that her memory becomes clearer with time.
- The TP Tango (from Reproductive Jeans): That familiar dance we all do starting around CD23 when every trip to the bathroom induces dread and can bring either hope or despair. A Reproductive Jeans classic.
- How a Seamonkey Gets Its Name (from Hell & High Water): Starfish's son, Seamonkey, is now nearly 10 months old. She explains how his name came to be, and how it was revealed to her that it was, in fact, his name. The post addresses the challenge adoptive parents face as they commingle a child's biology and biography. Told with dry humor, this post can bring tears to the eyes of other adoptive parents who remember their own such a-ha moments and hope to readers who wonder if adoption might be an answer for them.
- Cycles (from A Someday Mom): An emotional description of how each cycle ends like it begins: with sadness and grief. “...And I grieve. I grieve the life that could have been. The child that we could have created...The happiness that I could finally have and need so damn bad.” Kim beautifully expressed her feelings on trying to break free from “cycles” that don’t bring the baby that she longs for and the happiness that she needs: every woman trying-to-conceive can deeply identify with the line: “I wish I could start a new cycle that lasts 9 months instead of 25 days.”
- Am I a Parent? (from To Infertility and Beyond): After two miscarriages, the husband in this husband/wife blog team contemplates (in this and later posts of the same name) if he has already met the requirements to be considered a parent or if that label only applies after having a live child. He does a great job of outlining all the gray areas to this question.
- So, When Are You Going to Have Kids? (from The I Word): We've all experienced that well-meant but insensitive comment from a friend. But what if one of those led you to another Stirrup Queen...or two?
- 1,095.7266 days (from In Due Time): L reflects beautifully on three tremendously painful years of TTC without any kind of IF coverage and subsequently few options for medical interventions. She asks the difficult question, "How do you measure unseen pain?"
- Strange Wishes (from You're Still Young): Shlomit writes about wishing that she didn't yearn so much for a child as well as the pain of unfulfilled wishes, with an eloquence and rawness that deeply moved me.
- The Girl Next To Me (from Infertile Fantasies): A thoughtful post on recognizing others also going through infertility and understanding their pain.
- The Dark Side (from Well, Now That We're Here...): A post about the fear that comes with accepting a pregnancy after a loss as well as protecting yourself, just in case.
- Maybe, Maybe Not (from So I Wait For You): This is an honest but wistful acknowledgment of a once-innocent expectation transformed into the uncertain reality that infertile couples face all too often.
- Grief (from Mission: Impossible...): Geohde is amazing! She has strength and courage that would make Superwoman jealous. Mostly her humor and sarcasm leave you smiling and nodding your head agreeing with whatever she typed. Although not funny at all, I picked this post as her best. She had been through hell prior to the post and she put everything into this one. I couldn’t stop the tears. It proved that she cared so much for her baby that she made the decision that was best for her “Bubba” – a true mom. Geohde, keep writing! Best of luck with your career but mostly I hope you get what you want the most, a baby in your arms.
- La Lutta Continua (from Beaten but Not Bowed): A post discussing how we continue trying to conceive and how do we know when to stop.
- Struggling With Happiness (from Are We There Yet?): Kami has been through a heartbreaking journey and offers this universal message. She explains how infertility is exhausting on so many levels and wears you down. Yet, happiness is a choice and even though your situation isn't your first choice, you can still find happiness where you are, if you look and if you try.
- Looking Fear in the Face (from The EpiBlog): It was so hard to pick just one post from this blog, so many of them made me nod my head and say, "Yep, that's it exactly!" But this one brought me to tears. It's that fear that lives so deep in my heart, that makes the lump form in my throat when it catches me unaware and makes me feel selfish and guilty. I was so damned relieved to hear someone else had the same fear. I know how valuable the D's of the world are, and love the D in my life so very much, but I'm so afraid that it is the role I'm destined to fulfill.
- I Ovulated! And an Anger Rant... (from A Sibling for Celia): "I've been pretty angry this week. Angry about my infertility, angry with myself for being angry, angry at others for not understanding the anger... Just plain angry. I still feel like this is all a nightmare. Like I'm going to wake up any minute and find myself healthy and pregnant. I did it once, why can't it just happen again?!" This post really expresses the rage, the frustration, and the sheer unbearableness of infertility.
- How Did We Get Here? (from the password-protected blog The Problem With Hope): This post reflects on life and reminds us to look at the bright side. No matter what we're going through at any given time, there are also reasons to feel grateful. It's good to stop and count your blessings. Good, but not always easy.
- Tired (from Where Is My Happiness?): This is a post that speaks to the difficulties of secondary infertility: those who have been blessed once before with a child (or even children), but are also trying to find that delicate balance between the want of another child and being emotionally present for the child(ren) she already has. It is also a great post illustrating how we grow so tired in the process of infertility, but there is always that possibility of a child that drives us forward.
- Angry (from The Waiting Womb): A simple, honest post that reveals the raw anger that resides at infertility's breaking point. There is so much goodness about this blog, but this post in particular reminds me of the heartache that happens with infertility exhaustion. It makes her current posts that much sweeter.
- My Mind Speaks (from A Somewhat Ordinary Life): Just as things are hitting rock bottom they are also peaking as she realizes that even if she conceives a child that does not share the same biology as herself and her husband, she will love it unconditionally. Now that she is pregnant after a dIUI, I think this post speaks volumes about how our unconscious mind prepares us for our future.
- Just Lettin' It All Hang Out (from Fertilize Me): A post about becoming real with yourself and the fears that moving on to a new part of the journey bring. "Why can't I muster up enough strength, courage, kahunas, or whatever else I need to just go in and fill the Rx for my Clomid? Why am I procrastinating? What am I waiting for?" We have all cried this prayer at some point along our journey.
- Decisions (from Uterus Monologues): I like that she is honestly very happy, worried, scared and feeling guilty all in one post. Her newfound pregnancy is something she wants to enjoy for a bit and she is trying hard not to be stressed. She had very recently lost a baby and there is little that is harder, yet she is so excited to get those two lines. I just love the "I just saw two lines!" stories, they melt my heart and make me all misty. So much is riding on those two little lines.
- Proper Burial (from Diary of a Miscarriage): In a nutshell, she writes about what happened to her baby after she miscarried at 10 weeks. There was so much raw emotion in her feelings about sitting in the waiting room after the miscarriage and the questions she now has about what they did with her baby. As I read this post, my heart ached for Rachel and what she had to go through. No one should ever have to do what she did!
- Starship and Haiku, Dying Hate and Living Love (from Karaoke Diva): Of all of her many honest, emotional posts--both happy and sad, both hopeful and desperate--this is the post that summed it all up for me. Simple words that say it all. It always comes down to “I wish it were me” doesn’t it?
- Does It Suck To Be You? (from The Unlucky 20 Percent): A post that reminds all of us stuck in the "woe-is-me" cycle that the grass is not always greener on the other side.
- To My Unborn Child (from Flutter of Hope): I loved reading Dianne's blog, and although it was hard to choose, this was definitely my favorite post. I think it's so easy for those of us who are caught up in the medical treatments to think of the end goal in terms...well, like that, as a goal or a milestone, and this sweet letter to her unborn baby brought that goal to life for me. She inspired me to write a similar letter to my baby to be!
- All Done (from Our Own Creation): I had a very hard time choosing a favorite post since this woman isn't just hilariously funny even when her heart is breaking, but she had me laughing out loud with a whole bunch of her post titles. It just makes you want to read them! When she is serious and the pain infertility is inflicting on her life sticks through her humor, she describes it so perfectly that anyone could identify with it. This post has a little bit of everything in it: pain, desperation, but also the powerfully positive will to get through it all.
- Chapter 1 (from Kicking You From the Inside): This post covers one of the hardest parts of discovering you have fertility issues - facing the facts and preparing for what comes next. There is no anger at herself or her husband, there is an acceptance that not everything works out the way you want it to, and there's even a mention of how great her life is as it stands. It's a good, positive beginning to an unknowable end.
- Me, Myself, God and LaLa (from Healing Arts): Artblog discusses her relationship with G-d -- that she feels ashamed of the bad feelings she's had toward G-d due to IF, and that she feels as though she has failed to adequately appreciate G-d for creating her beautiful daughter LaLa. She asks for forgiveness and vows to be more grateful for what she has already received, and for the prayers that have already been answered. It is an excellent description of how many of us feel when examining our conflicted feelings and emotions related to G-d's presence throughout the IF journey.
- I Was Absolutely Dreading Canada Day (from Waiting on Two Pink Lines): This post struck a chord with me. Not only is it a funny description of the anxiety that can seep into infertile brains over events other people wouldn't even think twice about, but it was a nice reminder that I'm not alone in my dread of big bellies.
- The Sucky-est Day (from Love, Hope, and Faith): This post of Chris's really spoke to me as I had the same situation happen to me. Through this post, I felt a kindred spirt. It was amazing that she was still able to look on the bright side of things after learning of her miscarriage. She took God's sucky plan and tried to understand it and make the best of it. She has amazing strength and faith.
- No Clever Title (from It Could Take Three Months): It's the post every IF blogger wants to compose, and it gives us much hope when we read it. She couldn't have explained the joy and fear any better. The doubt and hope rolled together when we finally see those two lines seems so surreal.
- That Dark Place (from Coming2Terms): Pamela Jeanne inspires nothing short of complete admiration from me. I am amazed at times of the resilience that she shows. And so I was struck when reading this entry. She writes: “Let me offer up as exhibit A in my ‘fortified heart.’ And by fortified, I mean ‘fort’ in the classic Middle Ages sense. I've recently become painfully aware that over the past several years I've built an impressive wall around my heart…” Sometimes it just becomes unbearable to keep up the tough façade and when she can’t, Pamela Jeanne writes beautifully heart-wrenching posts like this one and lays it all out for readers to see.
- Observer (from The Impatient Patient): This post spoke to me because I understand too well what it is like to be an observer in a fertile world. Overall, this is an excellent blog.
- World's Shortest (and most often performed) Play (from Weebles Wobblog): A wonderful post pointing out the interconnected nature of the three positions in the adoption triad. When pain is erupting in the community, she asks if it is possible to step figuratively into another position in the triad and consider the point of view.
- About Histories and Legacies (from Upon Awakening): Though her life is quite different than how she thought it would be, she still appreciates the journey and what it taught her along the way. It has made her into the person she respects and cherishes. This post profoundly asks: "Isn't that why we are so persistent in our struggle to have a child of our own? One of the subconscious and sometimes not so unintentional reasons is to reproduce our genes. But we also need to have heirs to our legacies, not really in the financial sense of the word, but more in a sense of leaving behind something of who we are, and what we believe in."
- Cut It Out (from Journeywoman): A post that should be bookmarked and consulted whenever the community is fracturing under emotion. An extremely important reminder of why we all banded together in the first place: "Don't you remember? Don't you remember how we found each other? Don't you remember the first blog you read and thought 'Hey...that woman. She's like me.' Don't you remember the sad and happy tears we cried together? Don't you remember how it made the world seem--just a little bit better."
- I Thought There Would Be More Time (from A Cop, A Nurse, 3 Dogs, and Maybe Baby): I don't know why, but this post really got to me. I don't know her Aunt Alice, but the way she wrote so honestly and simply about her made Aunt Alice real for me too. And it made me miss this person I never got to meet. It was such a lovely post where you see so much love coursing through this family.
- Fertility Is a Lot Like Gambling (from Looking for 2 Lines): Even though the gambling analogy comes up in the infertility community, this post takes the connection many steps further from whether or not you even want in on the game to those who need to borrow money to keep playing. It's a really clever post.
- A Preemptive Move (from the password-protected blog Cats in the Cradle): I actually read Beagle's blog regularly before this and I've returned to this post a few times when I've questioned how to set limits. How does a person know when enough is enough? How do you decide on those next steps? This is the perfect post for anyone who is needing strength while forging a new path and needs to know that they're not alone.
Mother Talk: Lost and Found
Just in time for mid-summer vacations: a beach read with bite. Carolyn Parkhurst's novel, Lost and Found, is a behind-the-scenes look at a reality television show (oh my G-d: it's Bobby Flay's Infertility Throwdown all over again) with the added bonus of hearing the internal monologue happening inside the mind of each contestant.Why is it a beach read with bite? Because unlike the books you generally open while lying on the beach towel, this one will actually give you something to muse about as you apply another layer of sunscreen. At its most basic level, it brings to light the irreality of a reality television show--the script, the tweaking, the editing, the coaxing. As well as what contestants feel having the camera trained on them 24 hours a day.
But there are deeper bites to consider as well. Each chapter is written from the point-of-view of a contestant (which is also somewhat the downfall of the book's structure: you know long before the end who is going to win the game. If a character hasn't gotten his own chapter by page 198, you've got to assume he isn't making it over the finish line). Since I was given a heads up about the main storyline in the book, I will pass it along to you as well (especially since this secret is revealed by the fourth page--I don't think this is a true spoiler). The mother and daughter team are there following the birth and subsequent adoption of a baby. If you go into the book knowing this information rather than having it thrown on the infertile reader like cold water, you will enjoy watching the story unfold and even be grateful to view adoption through the eyes of the birth mother.
For me, the largest bite that took up a lot of my staring-at-the-sky-while-daydreaming minutes came on page 146 when Cassie, the teenage birth mother, admits why she chose her adoption plan. It is a question of playing with fate and imagining the numerous possibilities for her child. Of how one chooses the birth parents who will raise the child. And lastly, how one knows that another person could do a better job than you could ever do.
In the end, do people who choose a family to raise their child play a greater hand in guiding a child's fate (Cassie looks at the pictures and asks herself, "right there in front of me were twenty different possible lives for my baby, and what if I chose the wrong one? What if the couple that loves gardening and goes to the theater all the time is going to get divorced in two years? What if the computer programmer with the acne scars is going to drown in his swimming pool next summer, and my baby will be raised alone by his wife...") than any parent--adoptive or non-adoptive--who make daily choices that affect the life of their child? Is this responsibility more profound than what every parent grapples with on a daily basis without even considering the consequences of their simple choices as deeply as Cassie considers for her child?
Aaaah...so that's what I mean when I say that it's a beach read with a bite.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Throwdown
I was going to blog about LK's Baby Race (which you knew had to be on the Great Reality Television horizon at some point) mostly because who doesn't love a news opening like this: "...where three couples are testing different fertility treatments - who has been the first to conceive? One couple has undertaken IVF, one couple acupuncture and the other couple have attempted to reach their 'peak' nutritionally. But which ones have got pregnant? Sam and Nev are the lucky couple and they have done it purely through diet." IVF? Apparently not as helpful as eating whole grains. ICSI? Not as effective as more fruits and vegetables!
The fact that the first couple to conceive was seeing a nutritionist rather than an RE only means that you will now be bombarded with advice from people who have watched this television program. Advice such as, "you don't really need fertility treatments! You just need to eat more oily fish!" or "my next door neighbour's daughter's friend's cousin tried that diet and she got pregnant the next month."
In the great tradition of Americans ripping off UK television programs, this is how I envision the Great Baby Race as played out around America's favourite grill--Throwdown With Bobby Flay.
The fact that the first couple to conceive was seeing a nutritionist rather than an RE only means that you will now be bombarded with advice from people who have watched this television program. Advice such as, "you don't really need fertility treatments! You just need to eat more oily fish!" or "my next door neighbour's daughter's friend's cousin tried that diet and she got pregnant the next month."
In the great tradition of Americans ripping off UK television programs, this is how I envision the Great Baby Race as played out around America's favourite grill--Throwdown With Bobby Flay.
Transcript for the October 8, 2008 episode: Bun in the Oven and Fish on the Grill
Pages 1--3
Pages 1--3
Bobby Flay (voice over): [setting: walking in downtown Manhattan outside Cornell offices] Even though I have no background in gynecology or reproductive endocrinology, I was excited when I opened my folder and saw today's throwdown challenge--get an infertile woman knocked-up. And who better to challenge to a throwdown than Cornell's very own Pak Chung!
Assistant with Blond Hair: [opening the door to the waiting room] You ready for a Pak Attack, Bobby?
Bobby: [laughing to self. Enters Pak Chung's office. Chung looks up from some paperwork in surprise]. Hey, Pak--I've heard you have great success at getting a bun in the oven. While I don't have a strong background in baking, I'd like to challenge you to a little throwdown.
Pak Chung: I think you're mistaken. I'm a reproductive endocrinologist. I help people conceive and maintain a pregnancy--I'm not a chef.
Bobby: Well, fertility is totally tied to what you eat. That's why some people can't get pregnant. They're not eating the right foods.
Pak Chung: No, no, it's much more complex than that. Though diet can play a role in hormone production, treating infertility is not as simple as...
Bobby: You say to-mah-to and I say to-may-to, right, Pak?
Bobby (voice over): [setting: Bobby's kitchen] Everyone knows that while real hot crossed buns are made with milk and flour, getting a bun in the oven takes a low-carb, high-antioxidant diet. I'm planning on wowing the judges with some grilled fish topped with my famous mango salsa, a sweet cucumber relish, and low-sugar blueberry tarts for dessert to help balance glucose production for optimal fertility.
Bobby to assistants: I was going to go with a series of Mediterranean spreads: you know--spreads on breads and spread your legs--but I really think the grilled fish is going to knock the socks off the judges. Let's get to work!
Pak: [setting: trying to close the door to an examination room. In the background, a woman is clearly in the stirrups] I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is ridiculous. A chef can't get a woman pregnant.
Bobby (voice over): [setting: cooking in test kitchen] Except when that chef is preparing the perfect blend of fresh fruits and vegetables in order to protect genetic material through antioxidants.
Assistant with Blond Hair: [opening the door to the waiting room] You ready for a Pak Attack, Bobby?
Bobby: [laughing to self. Enters Pak Chung's office. Chung looks up from some paperwork in surprise]. Hey, Pak--I've heard you have great success at getting a bun in the oven. While I don't have a strong background in baking, I'd like to challenge you to a little throwdown.
Pak Chung: I think you're mistaken. I'm a reproductive endocrinologist. I help people conceive and maintain a pregnancy--I'm not a chef.
Bobby: Well, fertility is totally tied to what you eat. That's why some people can't get pregnant. They're not eating the right foods.
Pak Chung: No, no, it's much more complex than that. Though diet can play a role in hormone production, treating infertility is not as simple as...
Bobby: You say to-mah-to and I say to-may-to, right, Pak?
Bobby (voice over): [setting: Bobby's kitchen] Everyone knows that while real hot crossed buns are made with milk and flour, getting a bun in the oven takes a low-carb, high-antioxidant diet. I'm planning on wowing the judges with some grilled fish topped with my famous mango salsa, a sweet cucumber relish, and low-sugar blueberry tarts for dessert to help balance glucose production for optimal fertility.
Bobby to assistants: I was going to go with a series of Mediterranean spreads: you know--spreads on breads and spread your legs--but I really think the grilled fish is going to knock the socks off the judges. Let's get to work!
Pak: [setting: trying to close the door to an examination room. In the background, a woman is clearly in the stirrups] I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is ridiculous. A chef can't get a woman pregnant.
Bobby (voice over): [setting: cooking in test kitchen] Except when that chef is preparing the perfect blend of fresh fruits and vegetables in order to protect genetic material through antioxidants.
Pages 7--8
Assistant with Brown Hair: Bobby has been given the assignment of getting Angela Ashtonberry pregnant by feeding her prepared meals rich in essential fats from oily fish and zinc for optimal egg quality. Angela has been trying to conceive for three long months and she has a heartbreaking tale of sadness and frustration.
[Setting: long shot of Angela Ashtonberry walking through an empty field holding a single flower. Switch to a close shot of Ashtonberry sitting on the porch outside her home]
Angela: It's been really hard. We've been trying for three months now. Each time I get my period...(Angela pauses and tries to collect herself). I haven't tried stuff like charting my temperature or ovulation predictor kits or examining cervical mucous because I've heard that those things are a waste of time. Good fertility is tied to what you eat. I try to limit the amount of alcohol and caffeine I consume, but it's really hard.
Angela (continued): I wouldn't try things like IVF or one of those weird test tube things because I don't think they really work either. I mean, those tubes are really small and I don't think they can really fit a baby inside. My friend tried it once and it cost like half a million dollars and she didn't actually have a baby until she started eating more strawberries and carrots.
[Setting: long shot of Angela Ashtonberry walking through an empty field holding a single flower. Switch to a close shot of Ashtonberry sitting on the porch outside her home]
Angela: It's been really hard. We've been trying for three months now. Each time I get my period...(Angela pauses and tries to collect herself). I haven't tried stuff like charting my temperature or ovulation predictor kits or examining cervical mucous because I've heard that those things are a waste of time. Good fertility is tied to what you eat. I try to limit the amount of alcohol and caffeine I consume, but it's really hard.
Angela (continued): I wouldn't try things like IVF or one of those weird test tube things because I don't think they really work either. I mean, those tubes are really small and I don't think they can really fit a baby inside. My friend tried it once and it cost like half a million dollars and she didn't actually have a baby until she started eating more strawberries and carrots.
Pages 12--15
Bobby (voice over): Our judges for the throwdown are Jack Bender from Cafe Deluxe known for his high-antioxidant fruit concoctions and Allison Cohen from the GNC on East 59th Street. My grilled fish with mango salsa is on plate A. We're still waiting for Pak Chung to prepare the signature dishes he uses to get his patients preggers.
Pak Chung: I'm not participating in this. It's a mockery of the medical reality of infertility. It's like saying that you can cure cancer by drinking grape juice.
Bobby (calling over his shoulder to blond assistant): Write that one down for a future throwdown.
Allison Cohen: I'm going to have to go with Bobby's grilled fish. It's high in essential oils which you can also intake through our GNC Salmon Oil 1000--it's 180 soft gel capsules for the low price of $12.99 at GNC.
Jack Bender: I thought Pak Chung was going to be the clear winner based on his high live birth rate. But now that I've tasted Bobby's cucumber relish, I really have to rethink my vote.
Bobby (voice over): And the real success? Allison Ashtonberry is now pregnant after eating a diet low in carbs and high in B vitamins. She is expecting her first child this upcoming spring.
Allison: Right in time for English peas to be coming into season. Thank you, Bobby. I feel so blessed to have been chosen for this throwdown. I can't believe we're finally pregnant after all of those months--three long months--of trying to conceive.
Pak Chung: She wasn't even infertile! Does your production staff understand the multitude of factors determining infertility?
Bobby (voice over): So to all you cooks and reproductive endocrinologists out there, keep doing what you do. But ask yourself this, are you ready for a throwdown?
Pak Chung: I'm not participating in this. It's a mockery of the medical reality of infertility. It's like saying that you can cure cancer by drinking grape juice.
Bobby (calling over his shoulder to blond assistant): Write that one down for a future throwdown.
Allison Cohen: I'm going to have to go with Bobby's grilled fish. It's high in essential oils which you can also intake through our GNC Salmon Oil 1000--it's 180 soft gel capsules for the low price of $12.99 at GNC.
Jack Bender: I thought Pak Chung was going to be the clear winner based on his high live birth rate. But now that I've tasted Bobby's cucumber relish, I really have to rethink my vote.
Bobby (voice over): And the real success? Allison Ashtonberry is now pregnant after eating a diet low in carbs and high in B vitamins. She is expecting her first child this upcoming spring.
Allison: Right in time for English peas to be coming into season. Thank you, Bobby. I feel so blessed to have been chosen for this throwdown. I can't believe we're finally pregnant after all of those months--three long months--of trying to conceive.
Pak Chung: She wasn't even infertile! Does your production staff understand the multitude of factors determining infertility?
Bobby (voice over): So to all you cooks and reproductive endocrinologists out there, keep doing what you do. But ask yourself this, are you ready for a throwdown?
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Read Along: Barren Bitches Book Tour #5--Group B
New List:
Welcome to the fifth tour of the Barren Bitches Book Brigade--a book club from the comfort of your own living room. Grab a cup of coffee and start clicking away at the links below.
Just to explain, this book club is entirely online and open to anyone (male or female) in the infertility/pregnancy loss/assisted conception/adoption/parenting-after-infertility world (as well as any other related category I inadvertently left off the list). It is called a book tour because everyone reads the same book and then poses a question to the group. Participants choose a few questions to answer and then post their response on their blog. Readers can jump from blog to blog, commenting along the way.
Book: The Kid
Author: Dan Savage
Start Date: June 7th
Post Dates: July 17th and 18th
(need an explanation of how a book tour works? Click here to go to a list of posts on the past book tours.)
Barren Bitches Book Brigade List (click on any of the links below to take you to a stop on this book tour. Jump from post to post to read a plethora of opinions and thoughts on The Kid. This list is the second of two groups).
Group B:
Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters (Melissa)--my post is below this post.
Making Twiglet (Diana)
Kicking You From the Inside (Kate)
Baggage That Goes With Mine (Baggage)
Looking for Two Lines (LJ)
Child Bearing Hips (Cece)
Beaten But Not Bowed (Drowned Girl)
Waiting... (Sandra)
Weebles Wobblog (Lori)
It Could Take Three Months (Ms. C)
Even if you haven't read The Kid, you can still add your own thoughts on the blog tour or react to someone else's critique.
Like the idea of being in a book club without leaving your living room? The next book for book tour #6 is Love and Other Impossible Pursuits by Ayelet Waldman. The author, Ayelet Waldman, will be reading along too for this tour and it will be possible to ask her questions about the book.
The Details: Tour #6 will start July 19th. Participants will read Love and Other Impossible Pursuits by Ayelet Waldman. On Thursday, August 23rd, everyone will send one question based on the book (to get a sense of questions, click here to see the questions sent for book tour #2) to thetowncriers@gmail.com. I will compile the questions into lists that will be emailed out to you on August 24th. Everyone will choose 3 questions from the list and answer them on their own blog some time between August 28th--3oth (we will break up into three smaller groups and you can choose which day works best for you when the date gets closer). Each day of the tour, I'll also post a master list and people can jump from blog to blog, reading and commenting on the book tour.
If you would like to sign up to participate in book tour #6, leave a comment below or send me an email at thetowncriers@gmail.com. I need the title and a link to your blog as well as an email address where you'd like the two or three book club emails sent. If a spouse wants to participate too and he/she doesn't have their own blog, have them set up a blog solely for book tours (as we did with the Annex) and send me a link to that blog. And if you're a reader without a blog, now is a great time to set up a space for yourself on Blogger. People will be able to find brand-spanking-new blogs because they will be on the book tour's participant list. Want to participate but live overseas and want to order many books at once in order to save on shipping? The next few tours are always listed on my side bar under the book icon. Happy reading.
Welcome to the fifth tour of the Barren Bitches Book Brigade--a book club from the comfort of your own living room. Grab a cup of coffee and start clicking away at the links below.
Just to explain, this book club is entirely online and open to anyone (male or female) in the infertility/pregnancy loss/assisted conception/adoption/parenting-after-infertility world (as well as any other related category I inadvertently left off the list). It is called a book tour because everyone reads the same book and then poses a question to the group. Participants choose a few questions to answer and then post their response on their blog. Readers can jump from blog to blog, commenting along the way.
Book: The Kid
Author: Dan Savage
Start Date: June 7th
Post Dates: July 17th and 18th
(need an explanation of how a book tour works? Click here to go to a list of posts on the past book tours.)
Barren Bitches Book Brigade List (click on any of the links below to take you to a stop on this book tour. Jump from post to post to read a plethora of opinions and thoughts on The Kid. This list is the second of two groups).
Group B:
Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters (Melissa)--my post is below this post.
Making Twiglet (Diana)
Kicking You From the Inside (Kate)
Baggage That Goes With Mine (Baggage)
Looking for Two Lines (LJ)
Child Bearing Hips (Cece)
Beaten But Not Bowed (Drowned Girl)
Waiting... (Sandra)
Weebles Wobblog (Lori)
It Could Take Three Months (Ms. C)
Even if you haven't read The Kid, you can still add your own thoughts on the blog tour or react to someone else's critique.
Like the idea of being in a book club without leaving your living room? The next book for book tour #6 is Love and Other Impossible Pursuits by Ayelet Waldman. The author, Ayelet Waldman, will be reading along too for this tour and it will be possible to ask her questions about the book.
The Details: Tour #6 will start July 19th. Participants will read Love and Other Impossible Pursuits by Ayelet Waldman. On Thursday, August 23rd, everyone will send one question based on the book (to get a sense of questions, click here to see the questions sent for book tour #2) to thetowncriers@gmail.com. I will compile the questions into lists that will be emailed out to you on August 24th. Everyone will choose 3 questions from the list and answer them on their own blog some time between August 28th--3oth (we will break up into three smaller groups and you can choose which day works best for you when the date gets closer). Each day of the tour, I'll also post a master list and people can jump from blog to blog, reading and commenting on the book tour.
If you would like to sign up to participate in book tour #6, leave a comment below or send me an email at thetowncriers@gmail.com. I need the title and a link to your blog as well as an email address where you'd like the two or three book club emails sent. If a spouse wants to participate too and he/she doesn't have their own blog, have them set up a blog solely for book tours (as we did with the Annex) and send me a link to that blog. And if you're a reader without a blog, now is a great time to set up a space for yourself on Blogger. People will be able to find brand-spanking-new blogs because they will be on the book tour's participant list. Want to participate but live overseas and want to order many books at once in order to save on shipping? The next few tours are always listed on my side bar under the book icon. Happy reading.
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