Random header image... Refresh for more!

I Want to Have Jasper Fforde's IVF Love-Child

by Mel

It takes a lot to (1) get me out of the house, (2) get me to remain in a crowded space, (3) get me to sit still for an hour, and (4) get me to sit still for an hour next to a man who has quite clearly crapped his pants. But Jasper Fforde has this power.

Last night, I headed downtown for a Jasper Fforde reading. It has been on my calendar ever since he announced that he would be in D.C. on his website’s tour page. Which makes me one-third loser, one-third dedicated, and one-third clever (a case in point, this week, I took my son’s supersheet away because he kept crawling in between the supersheet and the regular sheet. As he watched me undo his bedding, he told me, “Mommy, you are a clever girl.”)

There is a very short list of people I think are interesting enough to get me to sit next to a man whose pants are full of feces. Especially in a crowded room. In the center of a row where I can’t really move around and fidget as I like to fidget. I would drive downtown–and have–for a Peggy Orenstein reading. I would go hear the Dixie Chicks speak. I would love to spend an evening receiving cooking lessons from Alton Brown. And I once called Norton Juster at 9 p.m. and got invited over for a tea party later in the week.

This side story is important to understand my whole Jasper Fforde/infertility wrap up at the end of this post so indulge me for a moment, will you? Maybe pause and get another cup of coffee because this is a longer story.

My favourite book growing up was Norton Juster’s The Phantom Tollbooth. If you haven’t read this book yet, you should go to your local independent bookstore (you like that, Politics and Prose? I always have your back) and purchase a copy today, simply for the best line in the book that applies nicely to infertility treatments, “so many things are possible just as long as you don’t know they’re impossible.” I started reading this book when I was six and I read it over and over again through elementary school. I loved this book so much that I always left the last page unread so I could feel like the book wasn’t over.

I liked to buy this book whenever I found it–new or used–so I own many copies. When the anniversary copy came out, I purchased that too. I was in graduate school and I was living in Amherst. One night, I was looking at the biographical information for the author and I noticed that it said that he lived in Amherst, Massachusetts. My heart started pounding and I took out a phone book, certain that he would never have his number listed. But there he was–and he lived only a few streets away from my co-op (of course I lived on a co-op. Did you really think I would live anywhere else?).

Everyone at the co-op told me I should wait until morning to call him because it was rude to call at 9 p.m. But I couldn’t wait and those who have ever come close to meeting their idol will probably be able to conjure up the blood-racing excitement I felt knowing I was so close to connecting with him. I called him and he answered. And after a brief phone conversation, I was invited over for tea on his screened porch. It was one of the most incredible afternoons of my life–the man who had made me want to be a writer, the man who had made me love books, was showing me pictures of his grandchildren and telling me stories about how things came to be in my favourite book. It came at a time when I was questioning whether or not I wanted to remain in my MFA program and it was the twist of fate I needed to finish out the degree.

I picked up Jasper Fforde’s first book because it was billed at an adult Harry Potter. And it was on a display table. Fforde’s character, Thursday Next, was just about as close as you could get to Juster’s main character, Milo. Instead of playing with words, Fforde was playing with literature, mucking around in all the classics. It was just good fun and it was a great world that you wished you could visit as much as Diagon Alley.

Though another book has since been published, the fourth book in the series, Something Rotten, was presented as the final book for Thursday Next. I started thinking about this book in the same way I thought about that final page of The Phantom Tollbooth. If I didn’t read it, the series wouldn’t end. Since I knew we would be trying again, I decided to save it–either for when I was pregnant or sitting in the two-week-wait or just plain depressed–you get the idea.

I still haven’t read it. It’s just been sitting next to my bed. But this is where the coincidences tie themselves up (just to be clear, we’ve already had the Juster/Fforde similarities in my love for them and willingness to sit next to someone who reeks of human excrement; the whole last page/last book comparison; the met Juster and it changed my outlook on my situation and we’re almost at the part where I talk about meeting Fforde and how it changed my outlook on my situation).

At the reading, Fforde admitted that despite his enormous success (the room was packed–hundreds of people. The last time I had seen Politics and Prose that crowded it was for a Michael Chabon reading after he won the Pulitzer. And the crowd for this reading made the Chabon reading look like it was for John Nobody reading from his book on whale mating rituals), he had written seven books in twelve years before he got his first break (I bolded that sentence because it’s important). When he said that, it was as if the lights dimmed for a moment and he turned directly to me in the audience (as I sat squinting in the spotlight, the stench of shit barely noticeable):

“Melissa, learn from my story. Twelve years. Seven books. And none of it was a waste because it brought me here. Keep trying. Start with your own eggs. Run yourself $500,000 in the hole or take yourself up to Cornell. But keep plugging away. And when that doesn’t work–because let’s be honest when we consider your stim response and your wonky cycles: it probably won’t–you should go to donor egg or adoption. But if your family isn’t complete, keep trying.”

“At the risk of my sanity?” I ask.

“At the risk of your sanity. You can get sanity back.”

“You can?” I ask. “Because I’m not so sure. I feel like I’m teetering close to the edge sometimes…”

“Teeter. Let yourself fall. Pick yourself up. Start over. One day you’ll be an enormous success in family building as I am in writing. Your children will all come home for Christmas and you’ll be standing around the piano singing carols and you’ll think to yourself, the twists and turns brought me here.”

“We’re not Christian,” I explain. “And we don’t have a piano. But I’m still going to keep trying, Jasper. For you.”

This was the point where I came out of my daydream and realized that I was still wedged between two people on a folding chair. Stuck in the center of a row.

When it came time to have my book signed, I was going to just have him sign the first book in the series to be polite to the hundreds of people waiting behind me. But at last moment, I yanked the final, unread book out from my bag as well.

“Could you sign it, ‘congratulations’?” I asked the non-daydream, very-real Jasper Fforde when I was standing in front of him.

“What am I congratulating you on?” he questioned, signing my name and the word across the inner title page.

“I can’t really answer that. Can we just leave it mysterious?” I said, thinking about how I still have no idea when I will read this book: I will read it when I need it. When I need to get out of this world and be somewhere else for a little bit. Even
though there is now a fifth book in the series, this fourth book has taken on such huge significance that it feels wrong to read it until I’ve accomplished something.

On my way out of the store, I found a book I have wanted for a long time on the remainder shelf. It felt like kismet. Like I should be in the store that night. Like I had been delivered an important message and the literary gods wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the fact that the reading was where I was supposed to be. Sometimes it comes in a burning bush. Other times it comes in the form of a remaindered copy of the Daniel Gilbert book you’ve borrowed from the library a few times. In the end, it’s all just fire and smoke to direct your attention to the words.

At this point, I would love to hear who you want to meet badly enough that you would remain wedged between two people for an hour.

July 26, 2007   Comments Off on I Want to Have Jasper Fforde's IVF Love-Child

What's Happening at One Smart Mama?

by Mel

Updated: 1:13 p.m. 7/24/07
Current Post: Spot of Tea

Keep sending those questions–thetowncriers@gmail.com.

July 24, 2007   Comments Off on What's Happening at One Smart Mama?

Finding the Silver Lining

by Mel

When we were on vacation, I pointed out the obvious benefit of infertility to Josh–we would never need to pay for birth control again. Spontaneous and Pill-free could be our new middle names. Of course, there are all the Secret Hope Stories about infertile women being bitten in the ass by this assumption when they’re finished with family building. But we’re grabbing silver linings wherever we can find them.

“There must be more things that are good about infertility if we wanted to get all Pollyanna about this,” I said.

“You get to have a lot of Starbucks,” he said after some thought. “You probably wouldn’t stop to get yourself coffee on a normal day, but since the Starbucks is next to the clinic, you end up treating yourself on blood work days. Plus, there’s all the waiting we did over white chocolate mochas.”

“I like my sharps box. It’s a great receptacle for stickers. Like when you go and vote and they give you that “I voted” sticker to wear for the rest of the day? You get home at night and you don’t know what to do with that sticker. But the sharps container is a great place to stick it.”

We ended up drawing a blank after coming up with these three silver linings (beyond the even more Pollyanna-ish “infertility has taught me to be a better person.”). So please add any silver linings you’ve discovered because I’d like to compile a list of ten. Things always seem more true if you can list them in tens. You may need to do some stretching… In fact, the farther the stretch, the better. Get your thinking caps on this morning. I’ll update the list below as silver linings come in through the comments section.

The Silver Linings of Infertility
as compiled by stirrup queens and sperm palace jesters everywhere

1. Never have to worry about birth control.
2. Get to treat myself to special coffee drinks more often.
3. Nifty sharps container becomes a receptacle for leftover stickers at the end of the day.
4. Get to experience a large variety and volume of wine.
5. No problems at a French restaurant (runny cheeses, alcohol, undercooked stuff).
6. Breakfast (and other meals) stay put in your stomach.
7. Built-in excuse for bad days, “oh, it must be the hormones I’m on…”
8. Being able to do what we want when we want – just get up and go.
9. The secret knowledge that you’re bad-ass enough to give yourself shots.
10. Lunch out on monitoring days when there isn’t enough time to pack lunch.
11. Hone your flexibility.
12. Get to meet people who you never would have met otherwise, and they all understand you on levels that even your best friend cannot.
13. Made me more sensitive to others.
14. I have a lot less tolerance for other people’s BS. As a result, I’ve actually been much better about speaking my mind and standing up for myself.
15. Sushi and Coca-Cola anytime I want since I’m not pregnant.
16. Getting to wear yoga pants to my “professional dress” office because they are the only pants that will fit over my bloated belly.
17. Darkest chocolate we can find during shot phases.
18. Opportunity to stay current on recent trends and artistic motifs in contemporary pornography during visits to sperm palace.
19. Instantly able to top most horrible pregnancy/birth stories.
20. Being put on Metformin for my PCOS-induced blood-sugar issues means I’m less likely to develop Type II diabetes in the future.
21. It has made me much more aware of how other people suffer their own conditions in silence. I try to be compassionate to others when they complain, because pain is pain, no matter what the cause.
22. My clinic is next to Krispy Kreme, so I get lots of donuts!
23. I can go to happy hour once a week and bitch with my friend about this stupid journey and drink my little heart away.
24. Actually knowing what goes on each and every cycle. How many women not dealing with IF understand how the body works and what happens from one day to another when cycling?
25. Sonograms are pretty cool. I dig seeing those follicles grow.
26. Getting to know the people in my clinic. One of my sonogram techs in particular is an amazing woman who has struggled long and hard with IF herself. Without my own struggles, I would never have the pleasure of meeting her.
27. Get to pee on lots of stuff each month.
28. Going to the big city for doc appointments – so that means good restaurants and shops.
29. Strengthening my relationship with my husband.
30. Not having to commit to anything because I “might” have to go to the doctor that day.
31. Knowing that this will make me a better parent with a greater sense of empathy.
32. Knowing that I can rely completely on my husband for emotional support.
33. Finding support in the unlikeliest of places – my MIL for example. I love that I know who my real friends/family members are, the ones who I can rely on when things go to shit.
34. No post-pregnancy tummy tuck!
35. Having something to blame your weight gain on. I’d rather blame it on a baby, but mentioning “my 10 lbs comes from the fertility drugs” always gets met with sympathy.
36. I am put on the “smart pedestal” by everyone I know who is TTC.
37. I’m healthy! I’ve taken more vitamins than anyone else because I’ve taken these damned prenatals everyday for years.
38. I can get out of work or a meeting at the drop of a hat if I have to go in for u/s monitoring, IUI, etc.
39. Discovering how much you two can really get through together.
40. Sitting in a work meeting with your husband, knowing that only you two know that he was late because he was sperminating, and I left in the middle because I was taking that sperm.
41. Putting together fun “donation” kits for the hubby, taking pics of donation rooms and accupuncture – getting new stories to tell out of all of that.
42. Learning new things. IUI can be quite fascinating! We’re dorks…
43. Conquering fears – I was able to give up my intense fear of getting needles. I’ve even learned to give them to myself!
44. I never knew what a blog was before this, so infertility gave me blogging.
45. Infertility may have saved my life (after all, I may have died in a plane crash if I had spent that 50K on cool vacations instead).
46. Nobody tries to nag me into baby-sitting any small cousins or nieces. Ever. Either because they believe I wouldn’t know what way up to hold a baby, or because they’re scared I’ll steal theirs, like crazy infertile ladies are supposed to do. This used to annoy me but hey, the free time and lack of responsibilities is very nice.
47. I’m doing a full-time degree and working part-time. I’m doing this because I can’t get pregnant and I need a ‘the rest of my life’. And look, I get a degree out of it! How many other people get a whole degree out of their coping strategies?
48. Ice-cream is apparently good for fertility. So I eat ice-cream for my health. So there.
49. Getting to be a stay at home Mom. Without all the struggle and heartache to get our children, we may not have realized just how precious this gift is and to take full advantage of enjoying it every moment possible. From the moment my daughter was born I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her so much, so I quit my job.
50. I’m always able to justify baking brownies or cupcakes in anticipation of another BFN. The proceeding to sit down with a fork (or not!) and chow on them.
51. Being able to tell your kids (when you get kids) that you REALLY loved them and wanted them — else you would not have spent $100K MAKING them.
52. Kn
owing that you’ll be a thoughtful and loving parent (see $100K comment above — no one does that for the hell of it).
53. If you have a problem with needles, you get over it. If you have a problem with doctors, you get over it. If you have a sense of modesty/discomfort with nudity/keeping your privates private… you get over that, too.
54. If it fails, and you don’t get the first child or the second child or however many you want–you have just saved an enormous amount of money you would’ve spent on their college tuition.
55. You will always get to have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
56. You will never be obligated to clean up someone else’s shit, pee, or vomit. You will only have to do it if you WANT to.
57. You will never have to spend time in a pediatrician’s office or a pediatric ER. (See above notes on vomit, etc…).
58. Seeing an RE led to finally getting diagnosed with PCOS and hypothyroidism. Medications for both have helped me lose 40lbs.
59. When the high-maintenance relatives want to stay at your place instead of a hotel, there’s nothing like saying “I’m sorry, but we’re trying to get pregnant and this just isn’t a good time to have houseguests.”
60. If I’m running really late for work, I can always call and say that I had to stop at the lab to give more blood because hey — it’s certainly feasible! 🙂 I save this for the rarest of occasions, but it’s a nice save when I really need it.
61. Infertility taught me you never know what you’ll do or how you’ll react until your actually in a particular situation. It’s so easy to say, “I’d never do IVF” when you’ve never really had to make that choice.
62. Airplane travel! that is one time i am not jealous of anyone with kids.
63. With a independent daughter who’s nearly six we can leave her with the grandparents or aunt/uncles or even friends. When there is only one, anyone will take her for the night and even for the weekend, which means more me and husband time, which as you know, is vital when going through the stress of infertility and treatments.
64. You develop mad internet research skills.
65. You can read medical handwriting.
66. My work with my RE has changed the relationship with all of my doctors. I can ask better questions and come from a more informed place.
67. You now have a working map in your head of the best places for chocolate in relation to the clinic. Bonus if you’re on a first name basis with store staff.
68. The longer it takes to get pregnant, the longer I get to hang on to my beloved (but two door) Sebring convertible.

And here I was struggling to come up with 10! Keep them coming…this list is sweet and sad and funny all at once.

July 24, 2007   39 Comments

Comparative Cinemology

by Mel

There is probably a more correct name for comparative film studies, but since I don’t know it, you’ll need to make do with my current title.

I saw the new Harry Potter film today. I could write a long post about what Harry Potter means to me and it has very little to do with the books themselves but instead how they appeared at different points in my life. But that sounds a little self-indulgent, so instead I will say that at the core of Harry Potter is a boy who is missing two people he never knew. How can that not appeal to an infertile heart? Both the first time around and now this time trying again, I spend every month mourning not a child I know intimately–can describe and hold and tell you whether they like the crusts on or off their sandwich. I’m mourning someone who wasn’t. I’m mourning the fact that I don’t know them when I’d like very much to have them in my life. I am wondering how life would be different if they were here. Harry isn’t missing his parents in the sense that he has many fond memories tied to these two people–he’s missing the potential, the relationship that is supposed to be there. A child is supposed to have parents in the same way that a woman who is a mother at heart is supposed to have children.

In Dispatches From the Edge, Anderson Cooper writes about the loss of his brother, “Many times that year, I wished I had a scar, a missing limb, something children could have pointed at, at which adults could tell them not to stare. At least then they would have known. I wouldn’t have been expected to smile and mingle, meet and greet. Everyone could have seen that, like a broken locket, I had only half a heart.”

A broken locket.

That’s not really the connection between those two thoughts–the locket–but I loved those four sentences because they summed up so well the silent battle–the silent wars. The ones we have that no one knows about. The personal losses. Harry’s losses are widely-known in the wizarding world. I think as a society, we have a better acceptance and understanding of that kind of loss: a child is supposed to have parents and when those parents are missing, the mourning is obvious and clear-cut. As a society, we don’t really know what to do with other forms of loss–the kind that can be hidden entirely if we choose. Unless told, people don’t know who are the childless mothers. And even once they’re told, they don’t always understand. They can’t visualize the missing person in the same way an almost-mother or almost-father can visualize their not-yet child.

For the IIFF, I’m finishing the second part of the two films we started last month. The first one explains to children about the multitude of ways people become parents. The second explores the emotions of infertility.

You will have to wait until Friday when the film festival shows to learn the whole analogy, but it is about missing those who aren’t here: the not-yet children who either weren’t conceived at all during a failed cycle, or made it to embryo but didn’t implant during an IVF attempt, or those who became small flowers, blooming and growing only to be lost before they could stand strong in the sun. I have cried a lot this week drawing the pictures for it and listening to the song play.

Here are some pictures and words until the film shows on Friday–a sneak preview or a still-trailer. If you haven’t made a film for this festival, there is still time. I know it sounds like there isn’t time since the festival is four days away, and perhaps there isn’t time to make the movie you want, but there is time to make a movie that can explain to people an aspect of infertility or loss. The theme for this festival is seasons, hence the garden and flower imagery. You can peruse past entries for ideas and use computer programs to compile your own movie.

I scatter seeds / you can’t see just what I sow / but the gardener knows

Broken hearts from missing flowers / that were never found / up above the ground

I still love you / when you don’t appear / and remain only a dream

July 23, 2007   Comments Off on Comparative Cinemology

Friday Blog Roundup Extravaganza

by Mel

Updated (look for the red writing below):

It’s the one year anniversary of the Friday Blog Roundup tomorrow.

First and foremost, to all the participants, thank you doing this–for participating and reading and writing about all of these wonderful blogs. I wanted to write back a personal thank you to everyone and then my period got in the way…aaaah, see, you all understand the way the sight of my Truman Capote after an evening of hope (complete with wasted pee stick) can grind motivation to a halt. So a big public thank you instead.

For the most part, the only editing I did was to remove any references that could narrow down the blog reviewer to a small pool of possible contenders. Though technically, if you want to reveal yourself to your blogger or make an impassioned plea for information on your own blog, I can’t stop you. After all, I…um…know my reviewer since that sort of couldn’t be helped. But just to make it clear for anyone dropping in for the first time today–the posts below were chosen secretly by another blogger in the blogosphere. Each blogger was assigned a single blog to read from July 2006 to July 2007 and they chose a single post that spoke to them–that became their favourite. If you enjoy reading this list, know that you’re only 6 months away from the Creme de la Creme when we’ll be making a similar compilation for your reading enjoyment.

Mostly, I just want to thank the whole community (not just the people who participated in the Roundup Celebration this time)–for writing posts that change the way I view the world or bring insight to my own journey or help me work through emotions precisely when I need a push to bring things to the surface. Reading another person’s thoughts is such a gift and I feel lucky to live in the time of blogs–where I can jump through hundreds of points of view and come to a better understanding of my own. Thank you.

Writing the roundup and keeping track of favourite posts is one of the best parts of my week. So cheers–here’s to the last 52 weeks and a tip of the glass to the upcoming 52 weeks of roundups. And thank you for reading it when I write it.

If your blog is reviewed here, please add a comment in the comment section talking about the post that was chosen–where you were mentally when you wrote it, what has changed in your life since that entry, what is still the same, and how you feel about the chosen entry. Please make sure you write your blog name in the comment so people can read your thoughts after they read your post.

The Roundup Celebration List

(though new posts have pushed these older posts down into the archives, feel free–um, or more accurately, please do–leave a comment for the writer letting her know how much you enjoyed her words)

  • Glossary of All of My Made Up Words (from Stirrup Queens): I read your entire freaking blog this week, and it was a whole lotta blog. My wordy word. Since I’ve read the bulk of it before, I paused many, many times, remembering those moments when my perceptions changed, or my thoughts crystalized – those wonderful moments where the world just stopped and shifted around, like a scene from The Matrix, leaving me staring stupidly and going, “Coooool…” As I rounded for the home straight (January-July 07) I started getting worried. How on earth was I going to choose just one? Then I had a little lightbulb moment of my own. Because one of the great things about your blog is those crystalizing instants and those invented terms which can sum them up so well they’ve entered the lexicon of our community. The lexicon! Therefore I present to you this post (with bonus click-throughs to many greatest hits) from the woman who’s rewriting the language of infertility.
  • The Missionary Postion (from The Vicious Cycle of Cycles): The witty Erin coins the term “Infertourettes” and discusses why sometimes sharing IF tips with fertiles can be tricky.
  • Redefining Me (from My Many Blessings): I had a really hard time choosing, but this post spoke to me just a little bit more than the others that I was considering. Tina has come so far in the past year, and this post really shows that. The perspective and peace she has attained with regards to her recurrent losses is inspiring. This post is a reflection on moving forward and loving the now, but still holding the past and the lessons learned in a special place.
  • What Kind of Person am I? (from Southern Infertility): A reflection on the role IF plays in shaping the person the writer has become, both positively and negatively. This post is an interesting look at the question of how experiencing adversity makes us ‘stronger’.
  • At Risk Behavior (from Waiting for …?): An honest look at her real motivations, strengths, and weakness; this is a touching post that explores feelings that are seldom discussed, but probably more commonly felt than we realize.
  • An Angel in Heaven (from My Journey Towards My Little Miracle): I know this post will be a hard one for everyone to read, especially Sunny, but out of her full year of posts–this moved me the most. It is a sad post–a post where there is loss. But most importantly in this post–you find HOPE and FAITH! “I am so blessed to have had 8 weeks of life growing inside of me. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Life is an amazing thing.” She immediately looked at the gift she was given: a human life, no matter how small or for how short a time. And now her angel child watches over her and Grumps every day. What an amazing couple Sunny and Grumps are–they inspire me, and I am renewed of hope and faith knowing that they believe that there is a plan for their life. Thank you Sunny and Grumps for the faith you gave me today…
  • Baby Beginnings and Grief and Letter to My Baby Beginnings (from Serenity Now!): Two beautiful posts about Serenity’s grief for her baby beginnings.
  • The Awful Truth…or To Tell or Not To Tell (from Nearly Dawn…): A post about the conflicted feelings associated with IF and with “coming out” to friends and co-workers.
  • Rainy Friday (from Mrs. Spock):Mrs. Spock always has fascinating stories to tell about her life as an ICU nurse. This post is especially interesting, with her vivid descriptions and frank assessments.
  • Embodiment (from Living with the Cards I Was Dealt): The concept of embodiment painted such an elegant portrait of how so many of us feel. Wanttobeamom conveys the deep hurt IF can inflict.
  • Mother’s Day (from Fertile Hope): Trish wonders what it means to be a mother after her miscarriage. Have tissues handy.
  • Just, Everything (from Nuts in May): As the title states, this post is about everything and the kitchen sink. I particularly related to the part where she spoke about “H” dealing in the typical male fashion of ignoring an issue so as to avoid conflict when in fact his avoidance causes more friction than to just deal with it. She says, “He should think himself very lucky I’m currently far too apathetic to do anything so energetic as shrieking.”
  • Hot Forks, Sharp Knives, and Rusty Nails (from Tales From My Dusty Ovaries): A refreshingly honest response to pregnancy announcements and why it’s hard to find joy even when the “breeder” is your best friend. I really liked this post because I feel the same way and I often feel guilty for feeling that way. Just as Leah pointed out, I know it’s not rational to want to inflict emotional pain on someone who is simply joyful about their pregnancy, but at the time, I truly want their heart to hurt the way mine hurts. This post really spoke to me and helped me realize that I’m not a bad person for feeling this way.
  • Bam! (from I Will Be Mom): This post could be written by any number of women who have experienced infertility. In it, BabyBlues describes how the grief of infertility hit her like a bolt out of the blue when they were flying home from their vacation. “What was that about? Does this ever happen to you? When everything seems to be doing fine, it creeps up behind you and just rips you to pieces. I know I’m sensitive and sometimes emotional. But whenever this happens, it’s just so hard to shake off. Sometimes there are triggers, such as seeing a mother and child, but sometimes, like this instance, no trigger at all. BAM! It just hits me! And it hits hard.” This is EXACTLY how I feel at random times. I plod on in my life and really do feel okay for the most part, and when I least expect, it hits me hard, the grief, the loss – the pain is almost physical. In this post, BabyBlues has articulated it beautifully….
  • Heartbeat (from Sticky Feet): This post reflects the relief of seeing the heartbeat of a baby that followed years of struggling to become parents.
  • Forever Changed (from Changing Expectations): A reflection on how the world used to seem so fresh and exciting, and how the author would like to return to feelings like that even though she knows her life experiences have changed her innocent views.
  • Thankful (from My Journey): M. uses Thanksgiving as an opportunity to write about all the things she’s thankful for. It’s a post we all need to write every once in a while, a post that makes you clear the cobwebs in your mind and to find all the reasons to be thankful.
  • Life is Ironic (from Tigger’s Infertility Madness…): I liked this post because it was so real to me. Everyone gets the “why me” and it’s so hard, especially when your loved ones are the ones who are triggering your pain. I could relate to how Tigger was feeling…joy for her friend but such terrible sadness for herself, too.
  • Mourning My Section (from The Twinkies): This post tries to explain what she missed and why she wishes things had been different and hoping that her memory becomes clearer with time.
  • The TP Tango (from Reproductive Jeans): That familiar dance we all do starting around CD23 when every trip to the bathroom induces dread and can bring either hope or despair. A Reproductive Jeans classic.
  • How a Seamonkey Gets Its Name (from Hell & High Water): Starfish’s son, Seamonkey, is now nearly 10 months old. She explains how his name came to be, and how it was revealed to her that it was, in fact, his name. The post addresses the challenge adoptive parents face as they commingle a child’s biology and biography. Told with dry humor, this post can bring tears to the eyes of other adoptive parents who remember their own such a-ha moments and hope to readers who wonder if adoption might be an answer for them.
  • Cycles (from A Someday Mom): An emotional description of how each cycle ends like it begins: with sadness and grief. “...And I grieve. I grieve the life that could have been. The child that we could have created…The happiness that I could finally have and need so damn bad.” Kim beautifully expres
    sed her feelings on trying to break free from “cycles” that don’t bring the baby that she longs for and the happiness that she needs: every woman trying-to-conceive can deeply identify with the line: “I wish I could start a new cycle that lasts 9 months instead of 25 days.”
  • Am I a Parent? (from To Infertility and Beyond): After two miscarriages, the husband in this husband/wife blog team contemplates (in this and later posts of the same name) if he has already met the requirements to be considered a parent or if that label only applies after having a live child. He does a great job of outlining all the gray areas to this question.
  • So, When Are You Going to Have Kids? (from The I Word): We’ve all experienced that well-meant but insensitive comment from a friend. But what if one of those led you to another Stirrup Queen…or two?
  • 1,095.7266 days (from In Due Time): L reflects beautifully on three tremendously painful years of TTC without any kind of IF coverage and subsequently few options for medical interventions. She asks the difficult question, “How do you measure unseen pain?“
  • Strange Wishes (from You’re Still Young): Shlomit writes about wishing that she didn’t yearn so much for a child as well as the pain of unfulfilled wishes, with an eloquence and rawness that deeply moved me.
  • The Girl Next To Me (from Infertile Fantasies): A thoughtful post on recognizing others also going through infertility and understanding their pain.
  • The Dark Side (from Well, Now That We’re Here…): A post about the fear that comes with accepting a pregnancy after a loss as well as protecting yourself, just in case.
  • Maybe, Maybe Not (from So I Wait For You): This is an honest but wistful acknowledgment of a once-innocent expectation transformed into the uncertain reality that infertile couples face all too often.
  • Grief (from Mission: Impossible…): Geohde is amazing! She has strength and courage that would make Superwoman jealous. Mostly her humor and sarcasm leave you smiling and nodding your head agreeing with whatever she typed. Although not funny at all, I picked this post as her best. She had been through hell prior to the post and she put everything into this one. I couldn’t stop the tears. It proved that she cared so much for her baby that she made the decision that was best for her “Bubba” – a true mom. Geohde, keep writing! Best of luck with your career but mostly I hope you get what you want the most, a baby in your arms.
  • La Lutta Continua (from Beaten but Not Bowed): A post discussing how we continue trying to conceive and how do we know when to stop.
  • Struggling With Happiness (from Are We There Yet?): Kami has been through a heartbreaking journey and offers this universal message. She explains how infertility is exhausting on so many levels and wears you down. Yet, happiness is a choice and even though your situation isn’t your first choice, you can still find happiness where you are, if you look and if you try.
  • Looking Fear in the Face (from The EpiBlog): It was so hard to pick just one post from this blog, so many of them made me nod my head and say, “Yep, that’s it exactly!” But this one brought me to tears. It’s that fear that lives so deep in my heart, that makes the lump form in my throat when it catches me unaware and makes me feel selfish and guilty. I was so damned relieved to hear someone else had the same fear. I know how valuable the D’s of the world are, and love the D in my life so very much, but I’m so afraid that it is the role I’m destined to fulfill.
  • I Ovulated! And an Anger Rant… (from A Sibling for Celia): “I’ve been pretty angry this week. Angry about my infertility, angry with myself for being angry, angry at others for not understanding the anger… Just plain angry. I still feel like this is all a nightmare. Like I’m going to wake up any minute and find myself healthy and pregnant. I did it once, why can’t it just happen again?!” This post really expresses the rage, the frustration, and the sheer unbearableness of infertility.
  • How Did We Get Here? (from the password-protected blog The Problem With Hope): This post reflects on life and reminds us to look at the bright side. No matter what we’re going through at any given time, there are also reasons to feel grateful. It’s good to stop and count your blessings. Good, but not always easy.
  • Tired (from Where Is My Happiness?): This is a post that speaks to the difficulties of secondary infertility: those who have been blessed once before with a child (or even children), but are also trying to find that delicate balance between the want of another child and being emotionally present for the child(ren) she already has. It is also a great post illustrating how we grow so tired in the process of infertility, but there is always that possibility of a child that drives us forward.
  • Angry (from The Waiting Womb): A simple, honest post that reveals the raw anger that resides at infertility’s breaking point. There is so much goodness about this blog, but this post in particular reminds me of the heartache that happens with infertility exhaustion. It makes her current posts that much sweeter.
  • M
    y Mind Speaks     (from A Somewhat Ordinary Life): Just as things are hitting rock bottom they are also peaking as she realizes that even if she conceives a child that does not share the same biology as herself and her husband, she will love it unconditionally. Now that she is pregnant after a dIUI, I think this post speaks volumes about how our unconscious mind prepares us for our future.
  • Just Lettin’ It All Hang Out (from Fertilize Me): A post about becoming real with yourself and the fears that moving on to a new part of the journey bring. “Why can’t I muster up enough strength, courage, kahunas, or whatever else I need to just go in and fill the Rx for my Clomid? Why am I procrastinating? What am I waiting for?“ We have all cried this prayer at some point along our journey.
  • Decisions (from Uterus Monologues): I like that she is honestly very happy, worried, scared and feeling guilty all in one post. Her newfound pregnancy is something she wants to enjoy for a bit and she is trying hard not to be stressed. She had very recently lost a baby and there is little that is harder, yet she is so excited to get those two lines. I just love the “I just saw two lines!” stories, they melt my heart and make me all misty. So much is riding on those two little lines.
  • Proper Burial (from Diary of a Miscarriage): In a nutshell, she writes about what happened to her baby after she miscarried at 10 weeks. There was so much raw emotion in her feelings about sitting in the waiting room after the miscarriage and the questions she now has about what they did with her baby. As I read this post, my heart ached for Rachel and what she had to go through. No one should ever have to do what she did!
  • Starship and Haiku, Dying Hate and Living Love (from Karaoke Diva): Of all of her many honest, emotional posts–both happy and sad, both hopeful and desperate–this is the post that summed it all up for me. Simple words that say it all. It always comes down to “I wish it were me” doesn’t it?
  • Does It Suck To Be You? (from The Unlucky 20 Percent): A post that reminds all of us stuck in the “woe-is-me” cycle that the grass is not always greener on the other side.
  • To My Unborn Child (from Flutter of Hope): I loved reading Dianne’s blog, and although it was hard to choose, this was definitely my favorite post. I think it’s so easy for those of us who are caught up in the medical treatments to think of the end goal in terms…well, like that, as a goal or a milestone, and this sweet letter to her unborn baby brought that goal to life for me. She inspired me to write a similar letter to my baby to be!
  • All Done (from Our Own Creation): I had a very hard time choosing a favorite post since this woman isn’t just hilariously funny even when her heart is breaking, but she had me laughing out loud with a whole bunch of her post titles. It just makes you want to read them! When she is serious and the pain infertility is inflicting on her life sticks through her humor, she describes it so perfectly that anyone could identify with it. This post has a little bit of everything in it: pain, desperation, but also the powerfully positive will to get through it all.
  • Chapter 1 (from Kicking You From the Inside): This post covers one of the hardest parts of discovering you have fertility issues – facing the facts and preparing for what comes next. There is no anger at herself or her husband, there is an acceptance that not everything works out the way you want it to, and there’s even a mention of how great her life is as it stands. It’s a good, positive beginning to an unknowable end.
  • Me, Myself, God and LaLa (from Healing Arts): Artblog discusses her relationship with G-d — that she feels ashamed of the bad feelings she’s had toward G-d due to IF, and that she feels as though she has failed to adequately appreciate G-d for creating her beautiful daughter LaLa. She asks for forgiveness and vows to be more grateful for what she has already received, and for the prayers that have already been answered. It is an excellent description of how many of us feel when examining our conflicted feelings and emotions related to G-d’s presence throughout the IF journey.
  • I Was Absolutely Dreading Canada Day (from Waiting on Two Pink Lines): This post struck a chord with me. Not only is it a funny description of the anxiety that can seep into infertile brains over events other people wouldn’t even think twice about, but it was a nice reminder that I’m not alone in my dread of big bellies.
  • The Sucky-est Day (from Love, Hope, and Faith): This post of Chris’s really spoke to me as I had the same situation happen to me. Through this post, I felt a kindred spirt. It was amazing that she was still able to look on the bright side of things after learning of her miscarriage. She took God’s sucky plan and tried to understand it and make the best of it. She has amazing strength and faith.
  • No Clever Title (from It Could Take Three Months): It’s the post every IF blogger wants to compose, and it gives us much hope when we read it. She couldn’t have explained the joy and fear any better. The doubt and hope rolled together when we finally see those two lines seems so surreal.
  • That Dark Place (from Coming2Terms): Pamela Jeanne inspires nothing short of complete admiration from me. I am amazed at times of the resilience that she shows. And so I was struck when reading this entry. She writes:

July 20, 2007   Comments Off on Friday Blog Roundup Extravaganza

← Previous EntriesNext Entries →

(c) 2006 - 2026 Melissa S. Ford
The contents of this website are protected by applicable copyright laws. All rights are reserved by the author