A few sips into the Manischewitz at the seder and I suddenly remembered my beloved Lushary. Do you ever jump mentally to your blog when you’re in an uncomfortable space? You’re having a conversation with someone about their pregnancy, but mentally you’re tracing the borders of your blog’s banner? You’re talking to them about how you should just have a drink and relax so it “can happen” but your mind is really running through the list of blogs in your Google Reader?

Do you remember that scene in The Phantom Tollbooth where Milo, Tock and the Humbug all end up sailing out of their car and landing on the Island of Conclusions with Canby? That’s sort of how I imagine myself when I am ensconced in an uncomfortable conversation. I just picture my body sailing out of the room and landing firmly between two Microsoft Paint icons.

Is this unhealthy or healthy having a mental space to retreat? It sounds like something you would learn as part of a visualization technique and yet it’s not really on par with the whole waves-lapping-on-the-sand-happy-place we’re always led towards.

We haven’t yet opened the doors to the bar this month and it seemed like a perfect time to do so. As always, it has been a bit more than 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. The good, the bad, the ugly. 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 back on this current post.

You may have tied on four glasses of wine at your Pesach seder, but how many imaginary drinks can you down at the Virtual Lushary?

Though I’ve kept One Smart Mama for almost a year, I’ve decided to integrate my advice column into my main blog and make it a weekly feature. Barren Advice is posted each Tuesday. If you have your own question for Barren Advice, click here to learn how to submit. Please weigh in with your own thoughts in the comment section and indicate which question you’re addressing if there are multiple questions in the post.

Dear Mel:

What did you find helped you through the uncertainty and seeming hopelessness that found you during your IVF cycles?

–Manda from I Think I Hear Your Mother Calling

I can’t speak specifically to IVF, but I can speak generally about hopelessness. I think we’re programmed–probably for good reason–to always try to be moving towards happiness. This extends into people being uncomfortable around those who are not in a state of happiness (since we would rather deal with pleasant vs. unpleasant things) and it speaks to our own discomfort with non-happy emotions. No one wants to feel hopelessness and I’m certainly not saying that people should try to move in any direction other than happiness. But, I also believe that sometimes we need to sit in the state that we’re in and experience it in order to move through it. There are obviously exceptions to this rule.

Which is a long way of telling you to feel what you’re going to feel. Instead of trying to talk yourself out of it or brush it under the rug, allow yourself to feel uncertain and hopeless and not feel apologetic about being in that state. Of course, you are still programmed to move towards happiness so once you’ve acknowledged this state and felt the uncertainty and hopelessness, it is time to bid it adieu–at least until it creeps in again since each cycle is a roller coaster and the same emotions tend to come around the bend again and again.

Hopelessness is a strange state. Sadness looks backwards–it’s a reaction to something in the past. Hopelessness looks forward–it’s a belief that we can predict what will happen based on our past shitty experiences. Hope also looks forward and the same definition holds except that we base hope on our past good experiences. When you expect good things to happen, you walk into a situation with hope. When you expect bad things to happen, you walk in hopeless.

The way which we lean is hardwired, built from experience and the way we process the world. To believe anyone can change their hardwiring simply by making a choice to do so is simplifying human complexity. Those who walk with hope do so without probably knowing how they do so–attitude comes partly from experience but is also partly built long before we can control how we view the world. Just as you can’t change your hair colour by simply wishing it a different colour, I don’t believe you can change the way you view the world without some hardcore work–work that should probably be done under the guidance of a therapist.

Back to hopelessness: you do not and should not always exist in this state, but it means you should work with what you have rather than what you wish to be. If you are a sunny, positive person by nature, you probably don’t have trouble getting yourself out of a bout of hopelessness. If you are someone like me, you sometimes need to acknowledge the doom and gloom and then push yourself out of it.

Accept that you feel hopeless or uncertain and own that. Keep it in check by taking out a pack of cards from time to time and trying to predict the next card you turn over simply based on your past experiences with poker. I give a lot of weight to intuition, but I’ve also been proven wrong in my predictions so many times that I have to embrace the beauty of chance. Without it, we’d never leap.

Dear Mel:

I have a what-to-tell-people dilemma. My husband and I have always told everyone that we didn’t want to have children, because up until a couple of years ago that was true. When we did gradually change our minds and started TTC about a year ago, we kept it to ourselves in order to avoid pesky questions. So now we’re dealing with IF. We’re not pursuing very aggressive treatment options, so in terms of practicalities (finances, schedules, etc), it’s not difficult to conceal. Between my husband and online communities, I feel like I have plenty of emotional support. The difficulty is that I don’t like lying, especially about something like this. Part of me thinks it would be better just to fess up and deal with the unwanted questions and advice. But even if I do decide to tell, how the heck do you start a conversation like that? “Hi Mom & Dad, you know how we said we didn’t want kids? Well, we changed our minds but it turns out we probably can’t anyway!” Any advice on what I should do, or suggestions on how to decide?

–Blogless Kate

Here’s the strange thing about people–we are simultaneously nosy and so self-focused that we forget about anyone else’s situation. Isn’t that bizarre? We want to find out every detail of another person’s life, and at the same, we don’t notice half the things that they are experiencing right in front of our face.

I’m willing bet that family members and friends–those who would be affected by a child because it would be related to them or play with their children–are thinking about whether or not you are trying to conceive even if you expressed a lack of desire prior to this point. I’m also willing to bet that family members and friends–the same ones who might be thinking about your situation–are probably completely oblivious to your conception woes and aren’t giving whether or not you’re trying a thought.

If you have an overwhelming urge to tell–if it’s something you think about while you’re having a conversation with someone or you’re trying to figure out a way to jump into having this conversation like an enormous game of Verbal Double Dutch–you should tell simply to have the telling behind you. Yes, you will probably have to deal with questions except if you haven’t received them incessantly by this point, you probably have some pretty polite people in your life and it sounds like they could continue to do well with only a bit of gentle guidance: “you know, I’ve been having a hard time coming out and telling you this but we changed our minds about children and we’ve been trying for a while. We were recently diagnosed as infertile and we’re trying some stuff now. I don’t really want to talk about it, but I felt strange not telling you at all since it’s a huge part of my life and you’re a huge part of my life.” Truthfully, I think it is something you can send in an email if you feel better doing that and think you won’t be able to say it when a break in
a conversation occurs.

If you don’t have an overwhelming urge to tell and it feels more like something you should do rather than need to do for your own emotional wellbeing, I don’t think you should tell. You have no obligation to inform everyone around you about each decision. You didn’t call everyone to tell them when you started trying a year ago and you don’t need to tell them now.

But they will probably appreciate being let in. Sometimes, people just sense that something is up and having words to put with what they’re sensing goes a long way in building and maintaining relationships and clearing confusion.

Dear Mel:

What is the true shelf life of injectable meds? If the bottle says it has expired…has it really?

–Cali from Creating Motherhood

I had to consult with an expert and the quick answer is don’t use them. I know, not the popular answer. The longer answer is that it depends on the drug and how quickly the drug’s potency declines after the expiration date. Liquids degrade faster than solids that need to be mixed with sterile water and solids degrade faster than pills. Therefore, the injectible medications are probably degrading at a faster rate than those expired Tylenol that were tested by the FDA and military. The problem is that the studies on potency and the rate of degradation are not going to be accessible to the general public for most fertility drugs (which are often used off-label too!) therefore, while the drug may be good after the expiration date, you’ll never know if it has lost 5% of its potency or 10% or 90% when it’s a month after the date.

The longer answer includes your own emotional well-being. Regardless of the answer, how comfortable do you feel using the expired drugs? If the cycle works or goes well, you probably will have no qualms. If the cycle doesn’t work, will you always wonder about the quality of the drugs you used? Will it become a stumbling block as you try to process emotions after a cycle? I always believe in removing any known what ifs so they don’t come back to haunt you in the future. When the what ifs don’t come to fruition, we sometimes forget how emotionally dangerous they can be. But in order to proceed without regrets, process how you would feel about the cycle if it were to be successful as well as unsuccessful.

One solution would be to go to a pharmacy and see if they can exchange the unused medications for ones with a later expiration date. Pharmacies close to fertility clinics that specialize in providing fertility drugs sometimes informally run programs where people can turn in unused medications after a cycle. You may look into this and see if you can exchange your medications there or at your fertility clinic–which is probably teaming with samples regardless.

Like what you read? Want to dispute some advice? Leave a comment in the reaction box below–only keep in mind that conflicting advice is embraced and rudeness is not. Make sure you indicate which advice you’re addressing by numbering your comment with a 1, 2, or 3. Want to ask your own question? Click here to see what you need to send in order to be included in a future Tuesday’s installment of Barren Advice.

Have a question, want to get feedback, need a gut check?

Barren Advice is posted every Tuesday. In order to submit a question, send an email to thetowncriers@gmail.com and include the words “Barren Advice” in the subject line. Make sure you include the following information in your email:

• A name I can use with the note (blogging name or first name) or indicate that you would like me to use “anonymous.”
• Blog name and url if you don’t mind the question being linked to you (more on why in a moment). If these are included, I will use them. If they are not in the note, I will not link to your blog even if I know it.
• Permalink to any background information posts you would like me to include so readers best understand the situation (if you don’t mind your blog being identified and your situation is more complicated than can be explained in a paragraph or two, you may have posts on your blog that help someone better understand the question). In addition, if it is linked to your blog, people can glance over and quickly learn more about your situation even if it’s not directed at a specific post. Which is why I link generally to the main url unless you ask me not to do so.
• Whether the question is time sensitive. I post 1–4 questions/answers once a week each Tuesday. Let me know if it can’t wait so I don’t hold it over.
• The question itself!

You can ask questions that are infertility or non-infertility related: infertility, adoption, donor gametes, living child-free after IF, parenting after IF, pregnancy after IF…um…anything IF. But also general issues: relationships, etiquette, wedding, friendships. I do not wear lipstick and my shoes rarely match what I’m wearing so I’m not the best person for fashion tips. So, it doesn’t have to be IF related (someone on One Smart Mama once asked about seeing an ex-boyfriend, for instance), though you know that I’m good for a “getting out of a baby shower” excuse. When a question involves pregnancy or babies, I will place “children mentioned” somewhere before that question so you can skip it if you need to because this is still an IF blog–but it’s an IF blog where pregnancy and parenting questions may also come into play because the whole community is welcome here.

I am between seders. We had three major events this weekend to get through and I am in the eye of the third one. I will write more about them later, but it brought up this idea of what we push ourselves to do–what we want to do, but dread doing. And what we gain when we push ourselves outside our comfort zone. I admittedly have a very small, cozy comfort zone.

During our recent IKEA run, which resulted in two return trips to IKEA for broken parts (what is it about IKEA that you can always forgive it? Two broken parts and yet I was speaking this morning about returning to IKEA for bathroom storage in a few weeks), Josh noted the similarities between the design of the store and Disney World. Both places are constructed to give you a sense of irreality–you lose track of time and it’s easy to get lost. Lost isn’t even the right word. It’s this low-stakes version of lost where you know that you’ll find your way out of the store or to the right showroom eventually in the same way that you know that Tomorrowland is somewhere over in that direction and if you pass the Haunted Mansion, you’re going the right way. We entered at 5:15 and didn’t leave until after 8, ending up with a plane grater and new lamp that we didn’t even know we needed until we saw it.

It is not the type of place one should if they’re feeling…let’s say…anxious. It’s not a good place for anxious people. You can tell as you’re walking around the store who ate beforehand and who thought they’d be in and out in under a half hour. I spend equal amounts of time watching my fellow shoppers as I do testing out the drawers on the Leksvik.

I walked in anxious this time.

This was my mistake: I spent the car ride out to the store detailing all of the things that are currently making me anxious from things that must happen to things that I am pushing myself to do even though I’m not exactly sure why I’m pushing myself.

Like I said, I have a small, cozy comfort zone. I would probably end up never leaving the living room if it were up to me. Josh always describes me as “an anxious sort” and though I am usually excited as I make plans to do something new, as the designated time approaches, I become more and more anxious until I am walking out the door asking myself why I’ve placed myself in this situation. Sometimes I go and have a great time and other times I don’t. This is true with small things–lunch date with a person I’ve never met–and big things–graduate school. I am an equal-opportunity neurotic.

Once I have done something once or twice, I am usually fine to keep repeating it indefinitely without anxiety. The first TOOTPU (The Order of the Plastic Uterus) outing required an internal pep talk. By this point, I just jump in car and start driving, looking forward to catching up with everyone and secretly licking all brownies I will be giving Leah. I like to call it “breaking the pee seal.”

You know exactly what I’m talking about–if you’re drinking beer, the second you go to the bathroom the first time, you will need to go to the bathroom 10 more times before you leave the bar. Knowing that, you wait and wait to go the first time because once you go, it’s like telling your bladder, “let’s just hang in here all night.” My cousin and I use the term to refer to the cousin who black sheeps themselves and paves the path for the rest of us to follow. For instance, who will break the pee seal and move to Australia so the rest of us can follow suit?

Breaking the pee seal is something you dread doing but afterwards, it makes all future urinations feel like nothing. Some of the stuff I’m anxious about doing is pee-seal-like. I just need to get through the first time and all future occurrences will be fine. But other things are…they’re one-shot deals. And that’s the thought that emerged in the IKEA parking lot–before I had even gotten under the bright white lights of the showrooms or found myself wedged between a Flärke and a Grevbäck.

What is the purpose to pushing yourself to do something you’re scared or uncomfortable doing when you don’t need to do it?

There was a Real World episode–Real World London (where people stop being polite and start getting real)–where the 7 roommates had to complete an Outward Bound-like course. One of the activities was jumping from a platform to catch a pole/branch–a trapeez-like move. It was a psychological thing because you were rigged up with ropes and you wouldn’t actually fall to the ground. But it was nerve-wracking to jump forward off the platform, even knowing you couldn’t get hurt.

Person after person got up on the platform and jumped. Finally, it was Sharon’s turn and even though she had seen person after person jump and not get hurt (even when they missed the branch), she couldn’t do it. She got up there and cried and they cut to all of the roommates talking about her behind her back in the “Confession” room and then back to them cheering her on and finally, after many minutes of screen time and cajoling, she jumped, missed the branch, was fine, and it was time for the next person to go.

Neil was sitting below the tree and looked up at the platform and said something to the effect of “Nah, I’m not going to do it. I don’t like heights and I gain nothing at the end of this activity except to say that I conquered a fear I didn’t need to conquer. Think I’ll sit this one out.”

And everyone was pissed at him, but he calmly shrugged in a way that said that he wasn’t going to budge or be bullied into trying something he didn’t want to do. And I have to admit that this Real World scene has played over and over again in my head since 1994, always there in the background when I am pushing myself to do something I don’t want to do “just because.”

It is, of course, cowardly. We’re taught brave is good and cowardly is bad. But why? Really–do we need to always push ourselves and work through fears? It would be great if we could all grab life by the balls and never let fear get in our way, but so many other things get in our way, why not fear too? I mean, yes, I can knock fear aside, but I still need to contend with finances, time, and physics.

This post is not meant to transport us all back to our slacker, flannel-wearing days, and certainly, not facing fears is much easier and requires less energy/work than actually overcoming anxiety and accomplishing something (even if that accomplishment is simply jumping off a platform and grabbing a stick). But what is the purpose to conquering fear when so little is gained on the other end except the fact that you conquered fear? I really do want to know–it will give my more to ponder during our next IKEA run as well as perhaps help me put into words the broken pee seal on this weekend’s commitments.

And now back to the living room where we are doing the pre-seder newspaper read.

This is the last thing I’ll say about it (since I added another update this morning–the woman is disputing Yale’s claims and says that the project is real): thank you for letting me take that out of my head. I had such a physical reaction to the story that I felt irresponsible posting the article or speaking about it. Had I been in a different space, I think it would have occurred to me earlier that I could write about it and not hit publish. Would I have felt like I had moved past something if it was still in my draft folder? I don’t know. Isn’t it interesting–do you need the closure of hitting publish and sending it out into the world away from you in order to feel as if something is over? Do you still dwell on the things you have waiting in your draft folder? Is it the passing of time or the pressing of publish (or send in the case of an email) that makes something feel over?

I really would like an answer to that.