Music Mondays

I know, I've been a blog slacker, but it's been chaos around here with loads of conferences and more to follow later this week.  I'll get better with the blogging, I promise.

In honor of Halloween, here's a fun Music Monday for ya!

My HSG Story

Part of my goal for my blog is to tell my story as it's happening so that other women going through the same thing can get the down low straight from the horse's mouth right after it happens.  So bear with me as I tell the story of my HSG today.

Before I left work, I took the 600 mg of Ibuprofen like my doc told me to do.  I went to the hospital and checked in as instructed.  I was then told to go up to radiology and check in there too.  Hospitals are fun!  I didn't wait too long with the sneezing and coughing people and I was brought back to the fabulous room where women are told to strip down and put on a gorgeous backless gown.  I got to keep my top on, but when you're super short, those giant things are just falling all over and it's a challenge to keep the bootie covered.  Anyway, I sat there in said backless gown for a good 20 minutes.  The only thing to read was "Parenting."  Swell.  Eventually some other women came to wait for their various tests.  They were just having MRIs and didn't need the gowns.  I did however learn from one woman about her Genie Bra.  She doesn't think it's very flattering and I would have to agree.

Finally, a doctor came to get me.  He was really really nice.  He wasn't my RE, but a gynecologist who is part of the fertility clinic I go to.  There was another gyne in the room as well as a tech.  He had me sit on the table and he described everything they were going to do, step by step.  Then I laid down on the X-ray table, bootie on some towels, and assumed the position.  Said position is to have the soles of your feet together and pulled up in a frog position.  18 years of ballet makes me quite talented at this feet.  Gyne #2 (I think he was probably a resident) talked me through everything he was doing.  He put in the speculum, which for some reason seemed larger than the run of the mill speculum.  More "jaws of life" than plain old pap speculum.  It pinched - but they always pinch for me.  He then cleaned off my cervix.  I heard that this part hurts, so I was prepared, but all I felt was a little bump.  He told me he was putting on the device that helps manipulate my cervix and asked me to cough.  That smarted a bit, but it just felt like a quick poke.  Then he put the catheter in.  Surprisingly, that part didn't hurt at all.  I was sure it would.

Here's where the hitch came in.  The radiologist wasn't there yet.  Apparently he was running late.  So here's me, frog positioned, vag akimbo, with three random strangers, waiting for the radiologist.  AWK-WARD!  Gyne #2 (who is "at the position") asks if I'm from the area.  SWEAR!  I said I was originally from St. Louis and the other doc says "Oh!  Beautiful city."  Now, there's a lot of good things to say about my home town, but beautiful isn't one I would use.  Obviously, we're struggling for small talk.  So I said that it would be more beautiful if we could manage to win the world series.  Turns out Gyne #1 is from Texas.  So yes friends, I laid on an x-ray table, naked nether regions with gear protruding, and talked baseball.  A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  I was only waiting 5 minutes or so when the radiologist came in.  So we're now at a cooter count of 4.  Four strangers who viewed my lady bits today.

I'm pretty sure that you have to fail a personality test to be a radiologist.  I have yet to meet one with more social skills than my houseplant.  Dude didn't even say hello.  If I wasn't so nervous I would have introduced him to my vagina just to be an instigator, but I didn't.  He just asked if we were ready and we got to it.

It really didn't hurt so badly.  It's not something I want to do everyday, or ever again for that matter, but it wasn't as bad as I've seen it described.  I think part of it was that I was so fascinated by what was going on on the screen that I couldn't think about it much.  "Ouch, that's painf... Oh cool!  Look at that!"  Seriously, it's amazing.  Fallopian tubes are way longer, thinner, and curvier than I thought.  What a journey that little eggy has to take.  I'm always in wonder at how anyone ever gets pregnant.

Anyway, when the dye was going in, it felt crampy, but not nearly as bad as period cramps.  It only took a couple of minutes.  Apparently I was bleeding so he had to put the speculum back in and take care of that (the jaws of life speculum was the worst part for me, so twice was not my idea of a good time).  Then Dr. Texas went over everything with me.  Tubes are open, no fibroids or polyps.  I do have a T-shaped uterus and he said my doc will talk to me about whether he thinks it's an issue or not.  Dr. Texas just thinks it's a variation of normal (Dr. Google apparently thinks otherwise, but he also suggests that I must have been born in the 50s or 60s to have such a condition.).  They gave me a pad and some antibiotics and I was on my way.  I've been a little crampy and spotty tonight, but no biggie.

I heard Dr. Personaless, the radiologist, ask how many there were left to do and Dr. Texas said "Two more after Lisa."  I loved that he used my name and didn't just say, "after her."  So when I went back to change, there were two ladies sitting there.  When I came out of the dressing room, I whispered, "It's not that bad."  They both sighed and said thank you.  I hope it wasn't too bad for them either.

HSG

My HSG is today.  Wish me luck.  And by luck I mean that I don't have one of those Vagal responses.  Geez!

Music Mondays

I am a vocalist and find a lot of peace in music.  Since I have rehearsals on Mondays, I thought it would be nice for y'all to share in the peace I have when I'm immersed in music on Monday nights.  The piece below is one that always makes me feel calm and... enveloped for lack of a better word.  If the religious imagery bothers you, just close your eyes and listen (frankly I find it distracting, but it's YouTube - what can you do?).  I adore this arrangement and no one sings it like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  I promise it will make you feel lovely.

Projects... AKA Keeping My Mind Otherwise Occupied

It's usually a good idea for me to have a project to work on so I stop googling things and making myself worry.  About a month ago, we had our house painted a nice gray/blue color.  It's lovely, but now my red chairs stand out like sore thumbs!  My latest project is covering them.  I'm not the best sewer in the world... okay I borderline suck at it.  I'm super short, so my momma taught me to hem for survival's sake, but that's about as far as I go.  I got some really nice upholstery fabric and spent a good chunk of the day making a cover.  One down, one to go!  I'm proud of it!

On the fertility front, I went to Wh.ole Foo.ds for the second time in my life to start a new diet.  The first time I went was the day before our wedding when we raided the southeast for all the blue hydrangeas we could find since ours did not arrive on time, but that's another story for another day.  This time I was dipping my toes into the organic world.  I read up on the "Endo Diet" and it didn't look right for me.  Hats off to the women that do it, but I just don't think I could go that extreme.  I'm a weenie and I like food.  So I looked at the peer reviewed research and I'm working on coming up with my own eating plan based on what I read.  I'm sticking to whole grains (which I try to do anyway, but I'll get better), nothing that has been given hormones, nothing processed, as organic as I can afford, plenty of fruits and veggies, limit the saturated fat, I already don't eat red meat or pork... and I'm thinking about giving up caffine.  I only have one cup of coffee a day and I gave up Diet Coke awhile ago, but it makes me cranky just to think about it!

Anyone have stories on how diet changed their symptoms? 

The Fertile Myrtle Pizza Parlor

Friday nights are date night.  Hubby and I go out and just have a fun date and enjoy each other's company.  I look forward to it all dang week long.  A couple of months ago, we hit up a pizza joint we really like.  It's a pizza and beer kind of place. So imagine our surprise when we found ourselves surrounded by little crazy children running around like they were ready to round up all the infertiles and put us on the pyre.  Well, that's how I saw it, but I tend to over react to such things.  Until Mr. Right said, "Is it me or is this place swarming with kids all the sudden?" I thought I was nuts.  When our pregnant waitress showed up, I was all set.

But this Friday, I was really craving pizza.  So I told Mr. Right, ya know what, we went kind of early last time.  Maybe if we go later in the evening there won't be so many kids around.  So that's what we did.  We walked in and it was grown-up-ville.  We breathed a sigh of relief.  The hostess took us back to a table, and there was a family with two small children next to us, but that doesn't bother me.  I just don't want to be at Chuck-e Cheese on date night, ya know?

So we sit down and the first thing I hear is "egg retrieval."  WTF?  So I turn my head and a very pregnant woman is loudly talking about her IVF experience.  At first I thought "SISTER!" but then I thought, "Dude, it's date night.  I don't wanna hear this right now."  Throughout our whole dinner, this chick was showing her friend pictures of her embies, talking about her progesterone level, her protocol, every visit to her RE ever. I'd like to say that I was excited to be privy to her success story, but in all reality, wanted to poke myself in the eye with a chicken wing. 

Then the table with the family got up to leave.  The very pregnant women picked up her 10 month old baby while yelling at the three year old to put down the crayons.  REALLY?!?!?  How do you even accomplish such a feat?  People can pop out babies in a row like that?  In real life?  Then the table across from us got up to leave - the woman at THAT table was pregnant.  All the while I'm listening to my IF sister talk about her time in the stirrups.  LOUDLY!  It was like the theme music to a ridiculous evening.

We got in the car and it went like this:

"Alright, we're not going back there again." 
He laughed and said "Well, why not?" 
"BECAUSE IT'S INFERTILITY HELL!"
"Maybe next time they'll perform an actual procedure on the table next to us.  OR maybe there's a secret in the pizza and we need to eat there more.  Think of it this way... at least it gives you something to blog about."

Damned right!

Kids Say the Darnedest Things... The Little Boogers

The general rule in my office is that the kids can say whatever they heck they want.  I love how kids just say what's on their minds.  It just comes flowing right on out.  So I don't mind it when some little sweetie looks at me and says, "Do you have any kids?"  because when a four year old asks, "Why not" the answer, "God hasn't sent us any yet" does the trick.  But do kids have some sort of radar to find infertile women and tug at their heart strings?  Do they smell it or something?  Infer-dar?  All week I've had the questions! 

"Do you have a Chinese baby?"
"Are you asking because you saw my husband's picture on my desk?"
"Yeah"
"He's Korean, and we don't have any kids yet."
"Oh.  Do you want a Chinese baby?  I think I want a brown baby"

That cracked me up. This theme of "Why don't you have any kids, Miss Lisa," has been insane this week!  And the other day, I got one that about killed me.  A little boy asked me if I had a son.  I said that I didn't have any kids, and that little darling put his hands on my desk, laid his chin on them and said, "Do you want a son?"

It took everything I had not to load him in my car.

Everyday Stresses

I've spent my evening on the phone with my dang student loans.  They switched to a new system which apparently inadvertently raised my payment by $444.  That's over twice what I pay on my poor person payment plan... and isn't happening.  I'm on the automatic debit plan, which they can't stop at this point, and all the options they give me to fix the situation screw me over royally.

But that brings me to this thought... It is so hard to keep my cool while we're dealing with infertility.  Every little thing that happens at work or at home feels like the proverbial straw.  I either want to totally flip out and pitch a hissy or crawl into bed and wake up when this is all over.  Mr. Right keeps reminding me that this could be a long road, so I'd better figure out how to deal with regular old stress now.  I know he's right, but just knowing that he's right makes me want to punch him in the face a little bit.

Even though I love him.

So What If...

We like to play the "When we have kids" game.  Of course, the farther we get into the infertility game the less we seem to play it, but you know the drill:

What will we name our kids?
Will they be musical like me or athletic like you?
Where will they go to school?
Will the look at all like me or will people think I'm the nanny?
If that screaming banshee in the pharmacy aisle at Target were our child, would you pop him one or give him a time out?

Today, my husband asked "If we have a kid and she's a really good gymnast or something, and she should train full time and drop out of school and do home schooling, would you let her?" 

I should have responded with, "When our daughter marries a member of the royal family, what should I wear to meet the queen?" but instead I just told him we'd cross that bridge when we come to it. :)

Back to the religion thing

I'm slowly processing this whole religion struggle I'm having.  Don't get me wrong, I'm for sure one of those "Cafeteria Catholics."  I know it's not a good thing to be and not something I should be proud of.  I have found a church "philosophy" that I love in Fraciscan parishes.  It is a warm, open minded, progressive, accepting environment.  Trouble is, I recently switched churches and don't know others in the congregation well at this point.  I'm thinking of confiding in someone at my old church to see what their thoughts are on the subject.  Or track down the woman I saw from my church in the RE's office, but something tells me she didn't want to be contacted.

Mr. Right reminded me that when we went to our Pre-Cana class I was outraged on what we learned in the NFP portion of the course.  I was excited to learn about it.  I wanted to know why the church doesn't allow for birth control and what made NFP more acceptable than a barrier method.  The instructors flat out told the class that they "Weren't going to get into that."  WHAT?  You want us to learn and embrace this method of planning our family and aren't going to tell use WHY we should chose this?  We just should because you said so?  And when they told us that birth control pills cause breast cancer and that by taking the pill you are causing an average of 8 abortions a year, I about flipped my lid.  I think, I HOPE, that the young couple they chose to teach this portion of the course was just uninformed, but shame on them for being so horrifically uninformed and shame on the parish for allowing those untruths to be taught.  Anyway, he told me this to remind me that for some reason, the church is off on the reproduction thing in general.  The best thing we can do is pray and follow our hearts.  For now, that's what we're going to do... and maybe get in touch with someone at my old church just so I can get an intelligent point of view on the subject.

And For My Next Trick...

I've never been a headache person.  I'd had maybe 2 or 3 migraines in my life.  Lucky girl.  I know.  I'm not trying to brag, just stating facts.

My body's latest trick seems to be landing a migraine on me on the first day of my period.  Now, when you are having trouble getting pregnant, the arrival of Aunt Flo tends to knock the wind out of you.  When you have endometriosis, the arrival of Aunt Flo has you in loads physical pain as well. So waking up the last few months to a temp below my cover line, a migraine, and an unwelcome visitor has been... well.. really really sucky.  And it seems that drugs to not calm this nasty headache.  And as a person with Endo - I have good drugs.  The only thing to do is sleep, and when I wake up - it's still freakin' there.

My body is being very very mean to me.  Very mean.

Anyone have any tips on how to get rid of these things?  I know it happens to lots of women.  Help a sister out!

This is a Blog Free Evening

My boys are playin' and it's kind of a big deal.

GO CARDS!

The Religion Equation

Read up on this:

http://www.usccb.org/upload/lifegiving-love-age-technology-2009.pdf

I always thought that the church's feelings on reproductive technologies were that IVF is wrong because of the extra embryo factor (which is a problem most people with infertility don't contend with) and because a doctor is creating life and not God (something which I don't believe to be true any more than I believe that I make deaf kids hear without any intercession on God's part).  So when we started this journey, I wasn't really worried about it because I thought that if we needed to go the IVF route, it wasn't immoral in my mind.  We'd been doing NFP, after all.  That was what we were supposed to do.

We are planning an IUI cycle soon.  Apparently, even this is immoral.  The above document is riddled with inaccuracies, untruths, and exaggerations (they actually talk about cloning, for the love).  Based on those factors, my faith, my CULTURE, is telling me that my husband and I do not have a union that is to be blessed by "God's ultimate gift."  It is our job to suck it up and carry our cross.  We can adopt, but medicated cycles is about all we can do to conceive since surgery isn't expected to help in our situation. 

I can't even put everything I'm feeling into words right now.  I can't even really form a coherent thought on the subject.  I just know that I'm overwhelmed enough to sleep in tomorrow.  My butt will not be in a pew.  I started spotting today and my temp dropped.  I don't think I can handle another round of kneeling and begging to be included in the "ultimate gift" club while knowing what is going on in my body.  I can't sit there knowing that the community I am sitting with, the community that has been a central part of my entire life, teaches that God has not afforded me this gift and the only thing I can do about it is pray and pass the Clomid.

I know that my calling is to be a parent and I feel that Mr. Right and I are meant to carry a child.  I don't know how to reconcile this.  I just feel really really lost right now.

Yin and Yang

Mr. Right and I have had to learn more quickly than most in our young marriage about what it really means to hold the other up in tough times. The concept of yin and yang really rings true to me. It's impossible to talk about one without talking about the other because they are so intertwined. You can't discuss a rise without a fall... an ebb always results in a flow. Some describe the relationship as sunlight coming over a mountain. Yin is the valley, the shady place. Yang is the brightly lit place. As the sun moves across the mountain, the yin and the yang change places and what was not visible is then revealed.
More often than not, I'm the yin. I'm in the dark place, yearning, depressed, head in a bucket of ice cream. Mr. Right is a bright and gentle yang. Kindly coaxing me out of bed, listening when I'm ready, ignoring a little bit of dessert overload, letting me be sad and waiting for the tide to turn. Today was my first experience as the yang on this journey.

Being the yang sucks.

I'm not sure how to be supportive in the gentle way that he can. I just want to put on a complete amateur comedy routine in order to make him smile a bit. But I can't hide the babies in church from him. I can't tell him to look the other way when we see a mom helping her kid do gymnastics in the front yard while on our run. All I know to do is hold him when he says, "I just want to have a baby with you" and try to forget that my heart is breaking for me and for me.

And then we wait for the light to move again.

Identity Problem Solved!

Message received.

Today, a deaf teenager was telling me about a project she's doing for school.  She's learning about Deaf cul.ture (don't want that bad boy googled.). She does not identify herself as "capital-D-Deaf."  She was talking about a book she was reading and apparently, most paragraphs started with "As a Deaf person, you should..."  My little friend was all fired up.  She kept saying, "It's the stupidest book in the world!"  I asked why she was so bothered by it and she said...

"Because!  You should just... just... be a PERSON!"

I can handle just being a person.

Identity

I emailed my mom about the religious tracts we received and I included the bit about how Mr. Right should have said I was "an infertile, white, Catholic, heathen." She responded with, "Would you please not identify yourself as infertile. That is not who you are. A heathen - maybe." It bothered me. After all 628.9 is the ICD-9 code splashed all over my medical everything. I fit the definition and I'm obviously not "fertile." I have infertility and I'm learning to identify myself as an infertile person. Of course I thought Mr. Right would feel the same way.

So when I told him about my mom's response (quite haughtily, I might add) I was very surprised when he said he didn't think of me as infertile either. In his mind, you're only infertile if you never can have a biological child, even with medical intervention. In my mind it's when you can't have a child without medical intervention. I'm sure my mom sees it the same way my husband does, but it got me thinking about how we as women identify ourselves and where infertility fits in.
I'm a wife, an audiologist, a musician, a daughter, a sister... those are probably my main identities. Mr. Right says he is a husband and a Korean-American (a man of short lists). Interestingly, he's adamant that his career doesn't define him, but it would if he were proud of it. Then I looked at my list. It's full of things I'm proud of.

I wouldn't say I'm proud of being infertile. I'm proud that I'm finding the strength to take steps to attempt to overcome it, but I don't think it's part of my identity at this point. I think Mr. Right is on to something. We identify ourselves by what we're proud of.

When we think about what makes us "us," we think about the positives. I have a complicated family and it does have a huge impact on who I am as a person, but the positive aspects of what came of it are what makes me "me." Yes, I tend to be a bit distrustful, but is that part of my identity? Not really. It did lead to me to be a bit of a control freak which morphed into a straight up type-A personality, but I don't really see that as a negative personality trait (other's might, but it works for me).

I'm a runner - but I didn't put that on my list. Probably because I really super suck at it.

How do you choose to identify yourself?

Should I Be Concerned?

Let me start this post by saying that I have a ton of faith in my RE.  He has been doing this for a long time, he is well published, and whenever he talks about tests and treatment plans, Dr. Google tells me that what he's recommending is based on the most current research.  That being said - the following bugs the crap out of me.

Here's the deal.  I work with deaf children in a medical setting if you haven't picked up on that yet.  I have about 700 kids that I follow.  Some of those kids come only once a year, most come a couple of times a year, and the rest come about 4 times a year.  I know my kids and their families.  When a parent called today and asked me to write a letter of rec for a scholarship application for her daughter, I was happy to do so.  I only see her once a year.  She was asking me about any other resources they should be looking into and I told her to be sure to hit up vocational rehab.  Then I said "You guys live in insert-town-here right?  Let me pull up the number for you."  And then it hit me.  I know what county my patients live in.  Sometimes I know their favorite color.  I know their quirks, their parents' names, and sometimes their pets' names.  This isn't something I work on - it just happens.  It happens because they matter to me.  The rest of my coworkers are the same way - we feel like it's our job to know the kids.

In a month's time we had 6 encounters with our RE.  Two in person, 4 on the phone.  He has been up in my business (with Mr. Right in the room) in ways that are probably against my religion.  I've explained some pretty intimate stuff to this dude and so has Mr. Right.  So yeah, when he asks "Now, did we order a semen analysis on you?" and we have to say "Um, yeah.  Two." and then follows up with "I guess I ordered that Factor V test because you have a family history?" I'm a bit confused.  When he called my husband with his first SA results and said "Now we should have your wife come in for a blood draw on day 3" and he has to say "You already ordered that.  She did it yesterday and you called us with some of the results already."  It raises my eyebrows.  After that he said, "Well, we should make an appointment to talk about everything" and Mr. Right answered, "Yeah, we already have an appointment Thursday... you scheduled it," I'm a little concerned.  I'm sure the man is busy, but he really did deal with us 6 times in one month and these things happened.  If I can remember that the patient I saw 5 months ago is afraid of the dancing duck in the sound booth, surely this man can remember that he called me with blood test results yesterday.

If I end up with a white baby, there's gunna be a problem!

They've Found Us!



Maybe the one on the right contains a Korean fertility secret!

I was cleaning the bathroom like a good little wife when I heard the doorbell ring.  Mr. Right answered it and I figured he was at the door for awhile because the dog was going buck wild.  He comes upstairs and looks bewildered.  He is carrying religious tracts... in Korean.  Apparently, there was an evangelist type at the door from the local Korean church.  Now, we don't live in a huge Korean community or anything, so the fact that this man turned up at our door with religious tracts IN KOREAN freaks me out a bit. I mean, is he hitting up all the households with Korean last names?  Did my in-laws send him?

*Sigh* We have no idea what this says.

Apparently he was very kind (I've yet to meet a Korean who isn't) and Mr. Right had a nice conversation with him... in Korean.  What was curious was that he saw Mr. Right's ring and said "Oh, I see that you're married.  On page blah blah blah is some great advice on child rearing."  I think that was the part where hubby should have said "My wife is a white, barren, Catholic heathen" but apparently he didn't think of that.

Oh, and Mr. Right does not read Korean.  He told the gentleman that, but he still left us with the tracts.

Christmas Cards

As the forever single girl, I never sent out Christmas cards.  It just seemed weird.  I contemplated sending one of my dog one year.  I figured it was a step up from a gaggle of cats, but I decided against it.  Since I didn't send out cards, the amount of cards I received quickly dwindled.  So this year, I'm super excited to send out married Christmas cards for the first time!

Even though people are probably sick of us, we're going to use our wedding photo because we can.  And come on - that's what we did this year.  If I have to read about Sally's 83rd dance recital, you can look at me in my fantastic dress.  Anywho, when you are using a wedding photo the text on the card gets kind of hairy. 

Since we met and married in our mid 30s, "Joyful and Triumphant" seemed pretty fantastic to me.  "Unto us a child is born" would be way inappropriate.  "Naughty and Nice" would be rather descriptive since "Naughty" would fall under Mr. Right and "Nice" would be under me. 

My favorite, however, is for sure the thought of looking at a photo of Mr. Right and me in all of our white garb of purity above the words "Oh Holy Night."

Mr. Right would rather do something like this:

I married an adolescent, I swear.  Good thing he's cute!

Got any fun ideas?  Ever notice how glaringly white the people are on the cards on the Shutterfly site?  And where can I get these things for less than one arm and half a leg?

The White Girl

When Mr. Right and I started dating, his mom was less than keen on the possibility of him settling down with a white chick.  In fact, she dubbed me "The White Girl."

Traditional Asian parents tend to like the idea of their kids ending up with other Asians.  This really bothered me at first.  I saw it as a small minded, biggoted thought, but it's really not.  It goes back to the whole legacy thing I was talking about the other day.  When I got to know MIL Right better, she grew to like me (I mean come one, what's not to like), but then the problem wasn't that I was white - it was that I was Catholic.  I couldn't win!  Over time, our relationship helped me figure it out.

It wasn't the color of my skin or shape of my eyes, it was the culture I practiced.  She needed to know that her culture would be passed down to her grandchildren and that my Catholic self wasn't going to deny her that legacy.  I would never dream of keeping that from my children and ever since she learned that, we've gotten along swimmingly.

That brings us to the infertility issue.  She doesn't know.  My mom knows every excruciating detail,  but when MIL Right says "Why you no have baby?!"  All we say is, "We'll let you know when it happens.  Promise."  Mostly it's because of the language gap.  I mean, it's not like reproductive terminology is part of Mr. Right's Korean vocabulary.  He says that her knowing would be more stressful because she would worry a lot since she wouldn't totally understand what's going on.  I understand and respect that.  The thing is, I wonder how it looks culturally that we aren't popping out grandkids.  Could the White Girl end up bringing some shame to the family?  I worry about that.

Why don't you just adopt?

I'll admit it.  I was one of those people.  I thought that if you couldn't get pregnant, you should just adopt.  If there's one thing I've learned loud and clear from this process, it's that you can't guess what your reactions will be at any particular stage of the game.

When someone says "you should just adopt," they are implying that you are not fit to procreate and you should just stop.  They are saying that adoption is some sort of consolation prize rather than the amazing thing it is on its own.  They are saying that because you badly want something that came so easily to them, you are somehow selfish.  Usually in life, we celebrate those that struggle to reach a milestone.  Why isn't the same true for starting a family?

When we started this process, my Type A self felt like we needed to prepare for all possible worst case scenarios.  That meant browsing the smorgasbord of reproductive options.  When I brought up the possibility of adoption, Mr. Right was not gung ho.  He wants to be sure we exhaust all possibilities for biological children and take some time before we decide to think about adoption.  I had a hard time understanding this at first, but now that we're looking our first medicated cycle in the eye, I get it. 

It's nice to think that having a baby is all about doing your part to make the world a better place, but it really isn't.  I mean, how well equipped are any of us to be able to form a small person into someone who can change the world?  When it comes down to it - procreating IS a little bit selfish.  Having children is about establishing your legacy... what you leave behind when you meet your maker so to speak.  It would be nice to say that our careers establish our legacy and having a family is just what we are all meant to do, but when you have a child, there is for real and for true a piece of you to stick around on earth for as long as it keeps spinning.  This is a basic psychological need and one that we are all entitled too.  To imply that it is the job of all infertile people to save the world's orphans is dumping a giant moral burden on the shoulders of grieving people.  People who have a right to grieve their loss of what they thought they would leave behind.  That's a burden to be shared with ALL people, regardless of the state of their reproductive organs.  Caring for our fellow humans, especially the littlest ones, is just human responsibility.  I don't believe it is God's wish for infertiles.  But no one would look at a pregnant woman and say "Why didn't you adopt?"

If the time comes when we decide to end our reproductive travels, we will take the time to mourn the loss of the family we thought we would have.  We will mourn the adorable little half Asian baby we have pictured in our minds.  Some day, we may decide that we want to adopt, but that will be a decision we come to apart from our infertility.  I think all families who choose to adopt feel a calling to do so.  They certainly don't feel like they are moving on to their consolation prize.

Being Appreciative

I dated a lot in my day.  And when I say a lot, I mean A LOT!  I was the queen of online dating.  A walking match.com ad.  I can't even tell you how many men I met and fretted over.  Do they like me?  How do I make them like me?  Do I care if this one likes me? Will he call?  Why didn't he call?  Will I ever meet the right guy?  Being lonely sucks!  When I would complain about being lonely, my married friends would chime in and tell me that marriage isn't all that it's cracked up to be.  They would complain about their husbands being unavailable, or too available.  They complained about toothpaste in sinks and clothes left on the floor.  As if those sorts of problems would make my date nights with Ben and Jerry much less sad and much more triumphant.  I never understood what my married friends were trying to do and I still don't.  I'm glad to see dishes in the sink and not the dishwasher.  The fact that there are little crappies left on every flat surface of this house is just another reminder that there is someone in my house that I am happily sharing my life with.  Don't get me wrong, there are little habits that annoy the crap out of me, but it certainly isn't worth being all too bothered over.  The pros for sure outweigh the cons.  I guess working so hard to find Mr. Right helps me appreciate him more.

I am confident that I will have the same appreciation for my child.  I know that it will never be an easy road, but this child is so severely wanted that we will always appreciate the gift of a child.

Today I heard a father complain about his deaf child's speech being embarrassing to him.  He said he could have better conversations with his dog and that the speech therapy he'd paid for was not turning out to be a good investment.  My heart broke for this beautiful, snugly, smart, charming little munchkin.  I can't imagine how you wouldn't be so thankful for a beautiful gift.  They chose to adopt her knowing of her hearing loss and yet they call her an embarrassment.  I fail to even remotely comprehend that.

"It's Not Fair!"

I remember a kid I used to work with who always said "It's not fair!"  Her teacher, a dear friend of mine, used to try to teach her what it really meant for something to be fair or not fair.  I was thinking of her today when I actually told my mom, at the ripe old age of 33, "It's not fair!"

I dated a LOT before I met Mr. Right and it sucked.  I hated dating.  I hated being single. As long as my single friends are hoping to find a mate, I will do my best not to be condescending to them because good Lord was that not fun.  But when I finally met the right guy, it was the right time in my life.  We had careers, stable employment, home(s), and a dog.  We were happy and ready.  We started trying before the wedding, just in case it didn't go too smoothly, but it seemed like all of our friends were getting pregnant really easily - even in their 30s.  That's what I think isn't fair.  We did all the right things.   Mr. Right and I will make great parents.  I know it, dang it!  And I see all of these people with too many kids, who are unemployed, who are next to divorce, popping out kids like freakin' pez dispensers!  Why isn't it easy for us?  It's not fair, I tell you!

My mom told me to get over it.  It is what it is.  I know she's right, but I want to wallow in my "It's not fair" for a minute.

At least she told me she was proud of me for being brave.  It might not be fair, but at least I'm being brave.

Can Kimchi Make Me Pregnant?

I've been craving Korean, something I never even thought about eating until I met Mr. Right.  Good thing I married a guy from a tradition that has great food!  Once we actually have a child, he or she will be well fed between our two heritages, that's for sure. At any rate, while we were eating our yummy Korean dinner, I had a crazy thought.  Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Right's swimmers consider my uterus to be a hostile environment because I don't eat enough Kimchi.  Yes, infertility has fried my brain.

But I ate up anyway and at least now I have clear sinuses if nothing else.