Advocacy Day!

•May 4, 2011 • 4 Comments

I’m typing this on an airplane headed for Washington, DC.  You see, I’ve been without internet access at my house for the 48 hours leading up to this trip (timing!!), so this is the first time I’ve had both the time and the ability to post.

Yep, I’m attending RESOLVE’s advocacy day for the first time.  I’m sure to meet some amazing women, and hopefully have an amazing experience while I’m at it.  For more information, visit resolve.org.

Also, the link to the show will be taken down tomorrow after they air a new show, so if you want to hear my voice, you’d better jump on it!

And, it’s my 6 year blog-versary this week.  Yep.  Six years.

Advertisements

NIAW

•April 27, 2011 • 3 Comments

I’ve been quiet, yes.  Mostly, I’ve been busy.

This is RESOLVE’s National Infertility Awareness Week, and hopefully, I’ll get around to “Busting a Myth” soon.  I did want to come here to let you know I’ll be on a radio show tomorrow talking about NIAW and infertility.  I’m pretty darn nervous, and I’m printing off my “talking points” as we speak.  The link (you are supposed to be able to listen live tomorrow at 3PM CDT or on a recorded show later) to the show is below.  I hope it goes well, and maybe I’ll help someone who is listening.

And my real name is listed…let’s not get all crazy and use that here, huh?

http://www.drcarolshow.com/

no more grief to give

•April 17, 2011 • 3 Comments

Honestly, I don’t know what to say here.  I’m really a broken record.  Most days I’m fine.

I have a half-written post about why I can’t move forward with treatment; it’s not the money, really.  It’s the failure.  I don’t have an ounce more of grief to give to failure.  I can’t be back in the black place right after a BFN or the even blacker place after a miscarriage.

Mr. Hope must know I still want more.  We don’t discuss it.  I’m scared to bring it up – it’s clear to me where he stands, upright and certain.  I however, cower in the corner, feeling guilty on the days when I want more, timidly happy on the days where she is more than enough.

I dared attend my clinic’s IVF reunion today, and it was probably a mistake.  I’m a failure among failures – it was a celebration of the fecund infertile – I swear to you I was the only one with a three year old, no bump, and no other babies in tow.  They all have stories, tragic I’m sure, but somehow I felt jealous in a way I haven’t been jealous in awhile.  I left and let the tears stream down my cheeks on the drive home.  I didn’t expect that.

It boils down to this:  I want another child, but it’s almost like I physically can’t take the steps necessary.  IVF, wonder that it is, has lost it’s gleam of promise for me.  IVF no longer entices.

I’ve yet to figure out how not to be momentarily breathless at new pregnancy announcements, and I still don’t know how I’ll ever brave selling or donating the baby things stashed away.  Or the crinone sitting in my bathroom.

I’m walking in the dark, it seems, and can’t quite get my bearings.

a milestone?

•April 7, 2011 • 2 Comments

So Mr. Hope got a bonus the other day.  It’s less than any of the things listed below, and these thoughts were before I knew the dollar amount.

My first thought: house!  Second thought: vacation!  Third thought: my first thought wasn’t IVF!

Honestly, it’s saying something that I didn’t immediately call the clinic and schedule some sort of expensive medical procedure.  I’m not saying the thought didn’t occur later.  This is me we’re talking about.

I’m done. No, wait, I’m not. I am. Not.

•April 1, 2011 • 5 Comments

It’s a process, this grief about not having another, not continuing the treatment path I know so well.  There are moments where I feel sure we are done.  Done putting ourselves through anymore optional grief through cycling, and complete as we’ll ever be as our family of three.

Moments later, however, I think about desperately asking every fertile woman I know if she’d consider being a gestational carrier for me.  Followed by thoughts of adoption.  Or cycling again with my uterus.  Or being done.  Again.

It’s a process.  It will take time.  I know these things, but there’s a part that yearns to know the future.  Which decision, if there’s even a decision to make, do I make?  Am I fulfilled and happy in that decision, or am I still plagued with pangs of regret 5, 10, 15 years down the road?

Inaction, which is essentially where I am, is a decision in and of itself.  Maybe it’s the right decision.  It’s too hard right now, today, to take a step in any direction.  So I’m sitting on the bench – and that doesn’t sound quite right, either.  Because sometimes, sitting on the bench at the park is better than running around the park – you see things sitting still you might not have noticed in motion.  The breeze, the curious bird, the sensation of a deep breath.

So that’s where I am.  Sitting still.  Thinking about moving, but unable or unwilling to do so.  Maybe ever.  You know, unless you have a fantastic uterus I could borrow for 10 months (I kid, I kid).  Trying my best (yet sometimes failing) to enjoy both the silence and the noise around me.

BAKED Sunday Mornings: Malted Crisp Tart

•March 27, 2011 • 7 Comments

This week’s BAKED: Sunday Mornings recipe was Malted Crisp Tart.  It’s a fairly standard tart dough, with the addition of malted milk powder, a layer of milk chocolate ganache (again with some malted milk powder) with caramelized rice cereal and crushed Whoppers, finished with a layer of cornstarch-thickened, malted milk flavored, and whipped cream lightened pudding.

I made this yesterday and brought it to a friend’s house.  I didn’t manage any pictures, but there are still a few pieces left, so maybe a shot later.

I was a little skeptical about this dessert:  I’ve never been a fan of “malt” in my milkshakes or of Whoppers, so I wasn’t sure about in multiple components of this tart.  Once it started coming together, I got excited – the crunchy crispies, crunchy crushed Whoppers, chocolate ganache, and cream!  Yum!  But…I assembled the tart right before we left, and it refrigerated for about two hours while we ate dinner.  The crunchy bits weren’t crunchy anymore – kind of soggy.  So, while I liked the overall flavor of the dessert, it left something to be desired in the texture department.  More like chocolate ganache tart with some chewy stuff in it, vs the crunchy candy bar dessert I thought I’d end up with.

So I’m not sure I’d make it again.  It wasn’t hard, and I might mess around with the idea…someday.

my obsession

•March 24, 2011 • 5 Comments

For years, I’ve been trying to build the family I took for granted I’d have by now.  Years.

I succeeded on the one hand – my “enough” baby, the 3 year old that I consider a miracle, an amazing stroke of luck.

It is hard to swallow that I am done.  I think about it every day.  I’ve done consults, and all the doctors think, in their supreme self-confidence, that they can help me.  I don’t know that I believe them anymore.  The truth is, spending another dime to have another failure, or worse at this point, another brutal miscarriage, makes me sick to my stomach.  Literally nauseated.

As much as I want another, I can’t seem to force my way (figuratively and literally) into more treatment.  Yes, there’s a new study about linings, and they’re getting quicker at genetic analyses.  Is it enough to put myself through one more minute of treatment?

I need to switch gears.  I need to focus on what I have.  I need to obsess about my daughter’s education, home, and emotional well-being.  I’m trying to figure out how.  How to make space in my heart to let go of what I wanted.  It’s not easy, but then I get excited about maybe setting up a mini-home preschool.  And about silly dance classes or piano lessons.

I try every day to appreciate what I have, but maybe trying isn’t enough.  Somehow I have to shut the door on fertility and open wide the door to parenting the child I fought so hard to get.  Don’t get me wrong, I parent her everyday, but maybe I can do better.