Friday Blog Roundup
So…you know that famous study they did when they came up with bystander intervention theory–the more people who are around who can help, the less likely that someone will take action because they assume someone else is going to step forward…
I swear, I still can’t get someone to write the IM injections heads up. 1000 ladies with medicated cycles and not one who can give some tips about jabs in the butt (no…not those kinds of jabs to the butt…). Calling all IMers (again…not that kind of IMing), please please please. IM write up. Please.
Also, check out the new poll thing I’ve set up in the side bar. I think I’ll change it with the blog round up each week. This week’s question covers all appointments and visits–the ten minute blood work appointments to the two hour procedures. So answer away!
And now onto the bloggity blogs and a taste of what is interesting on the Land of If while people scramble to catch up with work after the long weekend.
Calliope over at Erstellen Mutterschaft (try saying that ten times fast) has a post about asking her RE for a copy of her records. And amongst the blood work results et al, she found some nice personal notes they wrote about her including, “that there was ‘no need to be as aggressive as patient requests’.” It made me wonder what my doctor writes about me in his files. I mean, I know there must be some notes about me being neurotic and anxious. Something about how I should have an ativan drip in my arm at all times. How I may scream, “you’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong” into the phone when they call to give me a negative beta (okay, I’m just joking, I make my husband look like the psycho and tell the doctors that they’re wrong. I don’t want them to write bad things about me!). I do know that the dentist wrote in my file that I’m a “heavy gagger” since I took a peek a few weeks ago when I was there to get a cavity filled. Seeing the words “heavy gagger” made me feel incredibly unattractive. As if I spew vomit on everyone when they get too close. So…yes…must get on the phone and get those RE records so I can have a good cry. I mean, a good laugh (which will really be a cry).
Ms. X over on her barren island is currently shul shopping. Translation for those who are not Jewish–she’s checking out the different synagogues. Which is where we are as well. We were pretty laissez-faire about it in the spring, but fall brings about a certain panic since the High Holidays are coming up. Perhaps the same sort of pressure of getting pregnant by Christmas? Anyway, religion poses an interesting dilemma for the infertile chickie because so much of organized religion centers on children. Especially with Judeo-Christianity. I tend to steer away from talking about G-d, but her post on filling out the paper work and the assumption that if you’re married, you must want children must be discussed. Because it naturally leads to the questions (oh…you’ve been married for five years? Children yet?), which leads to the conversations. She asks how does one avoid this, but I don’t have a good answer. I know that shul was certainly the most difficult place for me to be infertile. The kids running up and down the aisle. The passages in the Bible about the barren women of Jerusalem. Perhaps if I dug down deep enough, I would say that associating infertility with synagogue is possibly keeping me from joining one right now. But I would have to dig down quite deep for that. I hope you find your shul soon–one that has resources for women experiencing infertility. There are shuls and churches that cater to every small group in America. Why not Church of the Barren Lady or Empty Uterus Congregation?
In another vein–Msfitzita over at Certainly Not Cool Enough To Blog (yes, you are!)–has a heartbreaking post on being pregnant and then not pregnant at church. She writes, “Last Sunday as I sat in the same spot I always used to sit in when I was pregnant, I started thinking about that. About how I so proudly showed off my pregnant tummy and how I hoped people would look at me and smile. And that’s when it occurred to me that women who had experienced miscarriage – maybe even stillbirth or a loss caused by birth injury, abruption or congenital defects – saw me. They watched me holding my tummy lovingly and protectively, and they felt the dull ache that I feel now when I see the same thing innocently paraded in front of me. I caused the same pain I feel now. And it never once occurred to me while I was pregnant, even after having two miscarriages before getting pregnant with Thomas.” This post broke my heart. Because you should be proud to be pregnant and you should feel happiness. And all those non-infertiles never come to this place. Do you realize that? They get to parade their stomachs and enjoy their pregnancies (or complain about their pregnancies) and they never look back and consider how others felt. And the infertile woman (remember Paz’s post that kicked off Common Thread?) does. She’s stuck in this space where she can’t feel the full happiness of pregnancy because she’s still thinking about her sisters back in the trenches. There is a part of me that wishes we could all just get into that selfish space. And then there’s a part of me that appreciates and cherishes the empathy. I just wish you weren’t sitting where you are now, Msfitzita.
Lastly, but not leastly, Reality over at Disenchanted With the Reality That Is My Life has a post about acupuncture that made me want them to stick me with needles. She described the sweet bliss of a mind finally slowing down. Her words started to quiet down my internal shouts of “voluntary needles? Voluntary needles?” It sounds like that 45th minute of a one-hour massage.
Mmmm…massage. If only someone would do a study of how massage aids fertility.