Posts from — February 2009

Show and Tell is wasted on elementary schoolers. Join several dozen bloggers weekly to show off an item, tell a story, and get the attention of the class. In other words, this is Show and Tell 2.0. Everyone is welcome to join, even if you have never posted before and just found out about Show and Tell for the first time today. So yank out a photo of the worst bridesmaid’s dress you ever wore and tell us the story; show off the homemade soup you cooked last night; or tell us all about the scarf you made for your first knitting project. Details on how to participate are located at the bottom of this post.

Let’s begin.

I love They Might Be Giants. I was a counselor at a summer day camp when Flood was released and we took the kids on a camping trip. I shared a tent with my friend, Tate, and we stayed up sharing the two ear buds from a Walkman, listening to his copy of the tape. When we got back to the camp, the headmistress yelled at us because male and female counselors were not supposed to share tents on trips. I remember being really stunned by this news and said, “but I shared tents with boys all the time back when I was a camper here.” And she snarled, “it’s a different world now, Melissa.” And I always associate that moment with the album, Flood.

I love They Might Be Giants so much that they were one of the sole tapes (Apollo 18) I listened to during my walk to campus every morning my freshman year. I set out down Langdon to “Dig My Grave” and when I hit the all-girls co-op house on the corner, it changed to “I Palindrome I.” I was at Le Chateau for “My Evil Twin.” And then at the Union for “Mammal.” And then I usually was in the throng of people near H.C. White in the middle of “The Statue Got Me High” and I was at my first anthropology class right around the beginning of “The Guitar” and almost always got to the psych building afterwards for “Dinner Bell.” I could tell if I was running late if I wasn’t hitting my buildings at the right song.

I just really wanted to proclaim my love of They Might Be Giants.

This song is probably my favourite song; maybe due to my love of water and the boat imagery or because I get all emotional thinking about population explosion.

What are you showing today?

Click here or scroll down to the bottom of this post if this is your first time joining along (hint: link to the permalink for the post, not the main url for your blog and use your blog’s name, not your name). The list is open from now until late Tuesday night and a new one is posted every week.

My mother gave us a CD of music the twins like to listen to at her house: Beyonce, Shakira, and Coldplay. I put it on in the car and tried to strike up a conversation.

Me: So who is singing this?

Wolvog: It’s Coldplay! Don’t you know Coldplay?

Me: I don’t know Coldplay. Do you know Elvis Costello?

Wolvog: Yes.

Me: Oh. Well. (Silence) I know it’s uncool to talk about being cool, but I was really cool back in the day.

Wolvog: What does back in the day mean?

Me: It’s just a really uncool way of saying “a long time ago.”

ChickieNob: When were you cool?

Me: I had a really brief cool period when I was sixteen and into the DC Punk scene–I mean, I went to a lot of shows: High Back Chairs, Nation of Ulysses, Minor Threat. Pretty much anything put out by Dischord Records. I was cool because I was a girl and I moshed.

Wolvog: What is moshed?

Me: Moshing? It’s sort of dancing and it’s sort of just being a teenager. And I’d crowd surf. So that was a brief cool period. Then, during grad school, I was definitely cool. That was a longer cool period. And then I moved here and slowly started getting uncool. And now, I have reached this interesting state similar to a hypersphere where I am so uncool that I am essentially cool. Except for the days where I’m wearing my sweatpants and then I’m just plain uncool.

Wolvog: So are you cool now?

Me: Well, I don’t know Coldplay.

Wolvog: Then you’re not cool.

Updated at bottom:

The coverage of Nadya Suleman’s octuplets has been like fingernails on a chalkboard–especially the misuse of the term implant concerning embryos. The verb choice may not seem like a big deal in the grand scheme of things (I mean, am I missing the point that the woman just had 8 children–8!–who cares what verb they use?), but I actually think the words used are just as damaging to the general public’s understanding of infertility as the actual act itself.

Out of the 50 or so stories I’ve read over the last few weeks concerning the octuplets, the only source that has gotten the correct terminology is People magazine. Seriously. It felt a little Alice in Wonderland when People magazine was using the correct terminology and the New York Times had it all wrong. In fact, they didn’t just have it all wrong–they had it all wrong on purpose as per a quote by New York Times reporter, Stephanie Saul:

We had an internal discussion about whether to use the term “implant” or “transfer.” We decided to use the word “implant” because, to the average reader who is not well-schooled in the terminology surrounding in-vitro fertilization, it is an accurate description of what happens. The average person does not really understand what “transfer” means in this context.

Apparently, People magazine believes that they have a more intelligent readership than the New York Times. That, or the New York Times is greatly underestimating their own.

It’s a switch of a single verb, but it has major implications in the way the general public views IVF as well as other fertility treatments. Embryos during IVF are transferred to the uterus, placed inside the organ with the hope that it will adhere to the uterine wall and grow for nine months. Embryos cannot be implanted, a verb that bypasses the reality of chance and success and hides the limitations of the procedure.

Why is the correct term important to the 7.3 million Americans who are currently diagnosed with infertility; even those who will use other fertility treatments to build their families and will never utilize IVF?

Peruse the comment section on any recent newspaper article concerning infertility and you will see vehement opposition to assisted reproductive technology. These opinions, more often than not, are formed based on media coverage of infertility topics rather than experience. The main argument that repeats is variations on the theme of control.

The idea of control is easy to see when you consider the picture the wrong verb paints in the mind of the average reader. If doctors can implant embryos, it follows that people believe that doctors currently have control as to which children are born. This couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Fertility treatments are meant to circumvent fertility issues by mimicking what occurs in a well-functioning body. In other words, it is the equivalent to having a tutor in school–it is meant to enhance reality and not create an unnatural state. Unless intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI) is used, millions of sperm have a chance to fertilize the egg albeit in a dish rather than inside the uterus. Not all eggs fertilize, creating the first stage of attrition. Not all embryos make it to transfer, arresting in the petri dish, creating the second stage of attrition. Finally, the embryo is transferred to the uterus where, just like all women who conceive without assistance, it is up to the uterus to create the optimal environment (drugs can encourage an optimal environment–they can’t create said environment) and the embryo to adhere itself to the uterine wall. Implantation cannot be manipulated at this point in time because too many factors exist–from the uterine lining to the pinopodes used to attach the embryo to the lining–for doctors to wrest control from the body and nature itself.

Doctors can simply place the embryos in the body and hope just like everyone else that a pregnancy continues with the birth of a child nine months later. See–IVF isn’t that different from unassisted reproduction if you take out that whole fertilized-outside-the-body part.

And yet, because the word circumvents the limitations of fertility treatments, those choosing not to pursue treatments or leave the path of treatments are met with incredulity that someone wouldn’t utilize this “sure thing.” How many times have those choosing to resolve their infertility by living child-free heard the term “give up” as in “why are you giving up on treatments?” Giving up implies that there will be success if one plugs away long enough in the situation. Those choosing adoption as a first or later path to parenthood are questioned about why they’re not giving fertility treatments a chance (care to explain uterine anomalies and loss rates with Aunt Jane?). While treatments can help many, there are no procedures in place at this time that can circumvent all fertility issues.

I think it is detrimental to the health and well-being of those undergoing fertility treatments when they enter the clinic with the same expectations held by the general public. It is too easy to approach fertility treatments with blinders on, trying the next thing and the next thing and the next thing without considering the larger implications of these choices–namely mental, physical, and financial health. And yet, when you believe that most will have success with fertility treatments, it is difficult to walk away regardless of what else you are losing in the moment.

It is understandable if journalists are simplifying a process or removing medical jargon from a news story in order to make it more accessible for someone outside the experience with limited knowledge about assisted reproductive technologies. But trading the word “transfer” for “implant” doesn’t remove an uncommon term in favour for one more well-known. It is sloppy writing, saying something the author doesn’t mean at all. And, in turn, the reader does not get a factual presentation of the procedure.

Due to my background, I can spot these mistakes within an article on fertility. At the same time, it makes me wonder how many other medically-based articles I’ve walked away from without truly understanding the nature of the disease or procedure. What else have I been overpromised by the media in regards to my health?

Others have also weighed in with commentary on the misuse of the term “implant”–both for and against its usage.

I Want to be a Mommy is frustrated over the misuse of the word, stating,

I know that the general public often don’t know the in’s and out’s of fertility treatment but all the misleading information or quotes flying around are maddening. If the media would at least use the right terms which they can research easily enough, maybe there wouldn’t be so many people who thought IVF was a sure thing and that everyone doing it was bound to end up with at least one if not two take home babies.

Our Own Creation points out how simple it would be to use the correct term. “If they could be implanted, it would be a whole lot easier. Why can’t interviewers on major network news shows just check with an RE to see if their questions are valid/correct before actually interviewing someone about
their fertility procedure?”

A Little Pregnant makes an argument for allowing the media to use the term implant, explaining, “Within our own echo chamber, we can all agree that we’re right. And we are right. Transfer is a better word. It’s just such an esoteric point that no one else on the planet cares, not even a little.”

As journalists continue to write about Nadya Suleman and the eight babies, it would be helpful for the general public’s understanding to choose a word more closely aligned with transfer. Journalists can write about how doctors placed six embryos in her uterus if they believe the reader cannot understand the concept of transfer. And once we get the terminology correct, readers will have the tools to correctly form their opinion on the ethics of IVF.

I wrote this for BlogHer, but I really wanted it cross-posted here. Because, damn, I really want people to get the terminology correct. And I absolutely love Julie for the part about us sounding like Trekkies at a convention–we do!–but I also do believe that the change in verb affects how the noninfertile community views fertility treatments (as well as the choice/non-choice to not use or stop fertility treatments). I think when you have the word implant associated with it, people don’t understand how often it fails and while they know that not every pregnancy results in a live birth, I don’t think they have a true understanding about IVF’s limitations nor its success rates. IVF cannot circumvent all issues and fertility treatments are not a done deal.

Update:

While this doctor claims he has created a procedure to implant embryos, the reality is that unless he is manipulating the embryo to tap into a blood supply and burrow into the wall, he is not implanting the embryo at all. That said, this is not the first story that has misused the word implant. It is every media story I have seen or heard in the last few years. Except People magazine. They get it right. Go People!

Updated (pictures of Hamantaschen):

I’ve written about it before, but every year, our family has a tradition to send out big boxes of candy and cookies at Purim called Mishloach Manot. There is the core list of family and friends who receive a box every year, but we also add four new people. The ChickieNob and Wolvog each chose a friend, Josh picked a couple from work, and I am once again turning over my basket to the collective “you” of the Internets (Allison from Our Own Creation won last year).

Every year, the boxes also have a theme. Last year, it was Thing Two and Thing One from the Cat in the Hat (because it was a leap month year) and all of the cookies and candies had two tastes (salty/sweet, smooth/crunchy, etc). This year, we let the twins pick the theme and they chose Barack Obama (and we may have modified it a bit to incorporate “hope”). The box is set up to become an instant party; just supply reason for celebration.

Cup o’ Joe (the Plumber) Toffee: a brown sugar and coffee-based toffee coated in milk chocolate.

Lollipops: what else could capture the skip Sasha did exiting the Inauguration than a lollipop? We hope they bring a spring to your step as you eat them (I have made a special batch of pomegranate-flavoured lollipops for the winner of this basket in the shape of Infertility’s Common Thread).

Bittersweet Caramels: it’s a difficult time for our nation and we tried to capture the sweetness of hope for the future with the salty reality of today.

Sugar Flowers: we’ve provided the cupcake decorations; you provide the reason for the celebration. We’d love to hear about your party.

Plus, back by popular demand, my chocolate chip cookies and dark cherry or raspberry hamantaschen (both original recipes).

This is one of my only recipes I don’t like to give out. It’s because it’s more technique than ingredients and requires a huge production. To explain: I can only make about 6 cookies every 20 or 30 minutes. So I’ll make them for you, but I won’t pass along the recipe.

But don’t they look good?

I’m going to draw a name out of a hat (literally, one of Josh’s nasty baseball caps–I said that last year and he got pissed so I thought I’d say it again) on February 27th in the morning and announce the winner in the Roundup (in other words, this giveaway closes on Friday let’s say around 8 a.m. EST). I’ll need your address and will mail the box on March 3rd.

If you’re squeamish about giving an address, you can pass along the gift to another person (don’t place addresses in the comment section–I only need it if you win). If you don’t have a blog and you don’t plan on checking the Roundup, leave a way to contact you with your comment. Actually, leave a way to contact you period so we can discuss food allergies and aversions so I don’t send you something you hate. If you win, you’re part of the family, so you can modify your box. Here’s what you need to do to win:

• Leave a comment below (yes, a box full of candy for the low low price of one comment!)
• Tell me one of the following things: (1) somewhere you left a comment already today–and feel free to leave, write a comment somewhere, and come back AND/OR (2) something that you read on another IF/loss/adoption blog in the last few days that touched you–either something very moving or funny or thoughtful. If you can provide a link to that other blog in the comment section or tell people where to look, I’d appreciate it.
• Think of it as if you are creating the Friday Blog Roundup in the comments section. Honour another person’s writing today–either generally by telling where you left a comment or specifically–stating a post that moved you.
• If you can do (1) and (2), all the better.

It is meant to draw attention to moving or interesting things you’ve read recently since the Roundup usually only contains 4 or 5 posts and I read many many more than that each week; it’s simply a matter of space.

You can enter two or three or five hundred times by leaving more than one comment below, but your name will only be added to the hat once. I will also love you forever if you read down the list and click over to read the other posts listed in the comment section. If the commentor only provided the blog name and post title, you can find them on the blogroll. And don’t just hit the first ones at the top of the comment list. Make sure you hit some of the people in the middle or bottom of the list and leave them a comment telling them that you agree with the original commentor–their writing does rock.

My usual blog rules apply: any spam is deleted–the point is to honour another person, not drum up business for a Viagra website–as well as anything rude.

Sugar flowers

This is all about sweetness–we could all use some sweetness in our lives. And if you are so inclined, pull together your own gift some time soon and send it along to another reader. And may the most randomly-picked person win.

Updated:

The first batch of raspberry hamantaschen, golden brown

The dates have changed (the tour has been pushed back) and the giveaway winners will be announced soon.

Yes, Americans and Canadians had to wait a long time, but in honour of the book, So Close, coming to America, I am throwing Tertia a book shower. A book shower is half online book tour, half book and author celebration. Anyone can participate, in fact, everyone should participate. Even if you read her book two years ago and have already written about it, please participate. I promise the format will make it a whole new post.

Now I need to convince you why you should join along: (1) Tertia is one of the pillars of the ALI community and one of the friendliest and warmest people to boot. (2) While she will most certainly make you cry–9 IVF cycles and death will do that–she will also make you laugh. (3) Lastly, one of the sentences on the book’s description rings so incredibly true: “If you are struggling with infertility, have triumphed over infertility or have felt empathy with someone who is going through this experience, you will find a friend in Tertia.”

I hope you will support one of our own by celebrating her accomplishment in writing this book. If you’d like to join along on the book tour, here’s how it works:

• Sign up by clicking here and filling out the information needed to get on the list.
• Read the book–as in, don’t wait to order it, go get it immediately and start reading. In the US, it is available through Amazon and Barnes and Noble (but not brick and mortar stores).
• On April 30th, I will send you a list of ten questions based on the book. You will choose one to answer in a blog post that goes up April 20th.
• On May 4th, I will post the master list and people will be able to jump from blog to blog, reading wonderful things about Tertia’s book and leaving smooches and chardonnay.

So sign up–it is a wonderful way to celebrate our community, celebrate a writer, and meet other bloggers online. Please spread word about the book tour on your blog, via Twitter, or Facebook. We may not be able to bring Tertia to America for a face-to-face book tour, but we can certainly pretend she is here, calling us whore and blowing kisses.