I thought it would be easier if I posted the worksheet in the Annex and provided a link so people could access it. If you see topics or ideas missing from the list, post a comment and I’ll keep updating the worksheet to reflect the changes.

Well…here are two little ideas. I really liked Celeste’s idea of a checklist that a husband or other family member could hand to the person who wants to help. Church calls and wants to send over food? Well, here’s a list of what they actually like to eat. Don’t feel like spending the money on a meal from a restaurant? That’s fine–here are some tasks without financial components, like doing a round of food shopping or walking the dogs or picking up the dry cleaning.

But here’s the thing: when I’m really upset, I can’t think clearly to know what I want or what is helpful. That’s something I should do now–an insurance plan of sorts. I’m making a list of what I like to eat–both homemade or ordered from a restaurant. I’m making a list of helpful tasks (I’m like electriclady–I hate having anyone in my kitchen so it would never be helpful to offer to do our dishes). Someone else also mentioned that it’s hard to tell someone what you’d want ordered even if they asked because you never know how much they wanted to spend. Soooooo…

My proposal is that everyone who is currently not in crisis creates a help plan that would serve the same purpose as a gift registry. It lets people know what you want and it lets them scan the choices and see which one they can do. I can create a form that you could fill out in Word and send back. I would then post each individual list in the Annex with your name as the heading. I would then place a link to your personal list on this blog in the help registry (I feel another date with Microsoft Paint coming on–icon-creating night!). It wouldn’t have a link to your blog–just whatever name you choose to use–so no one would know about your blog if you didn’t want them to know about it (for instance, on the help registry, my name will be listed as Melissa with a link to the Melissa’s list that is posted in the Annex. If there is more than one Melissa, we will become Melissa 1 or Melissa 2, etc). Does that make sense?

Then, if someone wanted to help, a friend could organize a help drive by sending out a mass email to friends and family letting them know about the list. You get the help you want–they get to feel good because they gave you the help you want. It’s win-win.

So let me know if you’d like to put up a list and I will send you the help registry page (leave a comment or email me at thetowncriers@gmail.com). You could actually write anything you want in any form, but I thought a worksheet could help people organize their thoughts. Whenever you finish filling it out, send it back and I’ll post it with a link in the help registry. And then either you or your friend or your husband could send out the link to the help registry whenever people offer to help.

No more gifts of Angolese peanut stew!

The other idea I love is Allie’s recipe list for cooking in crisis. I do have a bread recipe I can throw out there that fulfills the universal love of carbs and chocolate. It is a chocolate cherry bread and it is a recipe I adjusted from an old Good Housekeeping recipe.

While it may seem bizarre to ask about food choices during times of high stress, I have a theory about comfort that I was posing in my book in order to help non-infertiles understand how to make the best choices concerning help. Everyone wants to help. But it all goes back to Free To Be You And Me…some kind of help is the kind of help / that helping is all about / and some kind of help is the kind of help / we all can do without.

Delivering a giant pot of Angolese peanut stew when I’m stressed out isn’t helpful.

I know–that sounded bitchy.

I should just be grateful.

But pretending that I was going to eat the spicy peanut stew took up a lot of energy. First, it sat in the refrigerator for days. Then we dumped it in the trash (which necessitated immediately removing said trash from house because–for the love of G-d–I could smell the peanut stew from upstairs). Then I felt guilty while I washed out the pot. In the end, I was still hungry. Spending ten minutes undoing the help did not bring me any closer to actually eating or feeling less stressed.

I know–I am such a bitch.

So I was writing this chapter on helping after a loss (which has information that can be applied to helping during a cycle or after an adoption or during bedrest–any situation where help would be appreciated) and I came to the topic of food. Grocery shopping or picking up dry cleaning is pretty straightforward. But food is such a personal thing. I have to be honest, I really hate it when people deliver food they’ve made and think that they’re helping unless they know me intimately and are delivering something they know I will eat (thank you, Mommy, for all the farfel). I have received way too many lasagnas (I don’t eat them). Way too many strange salads. Listen, I’ll admit this here since we’ve already established that I’m a big bitch–I’m a picky vegetarian who keeps a kosher house. It’s hard to cook for me.

And I know there are plenty of people who are not as picky as I am and will eat whatever is placed in front of them (like…oh…let’s say…my husband). They’re just grateful that they don’t have to cook. Any maybe this is my deep ungratefulness shining through, but I believe that while most people are willing to eat just anything when they’re not seeking comfort but are mildly stressed (for instance, after a new baby is born and you’re just grateful to have a meal taken care of so you don’t have to cook), we have very specific food needs after a loss or during a time of great anxiety (the day before your beta on your first IVF cycle).

Carbs. They’re not good for you, per se, but they’re easy to eat. Chocolate or something equally indulgent which you wouldn’t necessarily eat during a normal time period. Food from a restaurant that reminds you of another time period–one that is happier and more hopeful than your current state. Eating that pho from Nam Viet reminds me of before we started trying to conceive, when we were just a childless couple living near the city and going out with our friends on a Saturday. I appreciate it when Josh brings it home for me when I’m feeling like shit in a way that I can’t quite appreciate Angolese peanut stew.

You know what it’s like–it’s like when you’re abroad and you duck into McDonalds. Maybe you don’t eat McDonalds at home, but now that you’re a little homesick, you’re willing to trade taste and healthiness for something familiar. My pho is pretty tasty on an average day, but it becomes an anchor when I’m free-floating in sadness. It’s something familiar. I know exactly what to expect. Sometimes, amidst chaos, I just need food that is predictable. It is–not to harp on it–not the time for Angolese peanut stew.

There is also my Martha side that believes that making homemade food says something. It says I give a crap about you to spend hours of my time preparing something I believe you’ll love to eat. But this is where I’m torn: which is more important–giving them something homemade that says “I love you” even if it’s something that they might not eat (though you don’t know this while you’re making it–of course you believe that they’ll love it or why would you make it?) or getting them something from a restaurant that you know they will love? Would you rather have someone show up to your house with a dish that is semi-inedible considering your mental state but homemade (in another time and place, I may have eaten the damn peanut stew) or would you rather have someone call you and say, “I’m having dinner delivered to your house tonight. Can you please tell me the restaurant and your order?” Or even have them call and say, “I know you really liked the pasta I made during that dinner party a few weeks ago–can I bring over a pot of it?”

The list really fell into two camps: the people who had specific meals in mind–mostly carbs–from specific restaurants or recipes and those who named a dish or a food, but gave no specific instructions. It was spaghetti and meatballs, but it wasn’t a particular recipe. It was chocolate, but not a specific brand.

I think when people want to help, it’s important to make them feel like they will be successful. That there are questions to ask that can lead them to a black and white answer of which path they should take. It’s all presenting the idea that there is comfort achievability.

What is comfort achievability? It’s convincing an outsider that they actually have a chance of hitting the nail on the head and providing comfort if they start thinking like the person they’re trying to help rather than like themselves. Just like some non-infertiles can catch onto the idea of telling me about their pregnancies via email in order to give me some emotional processing time, I think someone who truly wants to help needs to (1) be told how to help and (2) with a dearth of concrete directions, understand how to think like the stirrup queen and ask the right questions. If not, they’re going to start saying “why bother?”

So that’s my last question: would you rather have someone make you a homemade meal and try (and possibly fail–meat trifle anyone?) to personalize the help or would you rather they send over a meal from a favourite restaurant so you know what to expect (or using a specific recipe that you’ve approved)? And consider this question in multiple scenarios: after a loss, during an agonizing wait, when you’re on bedrest, when you just adopted a child. I guess what I’m asking is which means more when giving help: the message of love behind the help or getting it right?

And don’t say what you think should be the answer (because even bitchy me has a heart and wants to answer “the message” even though I personally don’t believe that), tell me what you really really want. I know there are people out there who are better than me who will say “the message is more important”–but explain why. I really want to know.

Weigh in with your “I’d rather…”

Now with edits!

Here’s a little question to kick off your weekend (because I have a theory about the answers): what is your two-week-wait or your BFN comfort food? The thing you want to eat even though it really doesn’t erase the pain of infertilty, but you believe nonetheless that you will feel better (or at least not worse) after eating it? It can be a specific dish from a restaurant or something homemade. Or out of a can (really? Is your secret comfort food canned potatoes too?). Though it may seem pretty self-explanatory, give as much detail as possible in your description. Is the food hot or cold? Is it a family recipe or one from a book? Did you first eat this food in a certain place? For example, my comfort food is vegetarian pho from a Vietnamese restaurant that we used to go to every Saturday. And I order it with extra noodles and tofu, but without cauliflower or mushrooms. See–in order to prove my theory, I need it as specific as possible. And hey, if you have any good recipes, send them along 🙂 Oh–and one last note: it doesn’t have to be what you actually eat every cycle. It can be what you wish you were eating. So if you once ate some fantastic malawach at a Yeminite restaurant in Jerusalem, and you wish you could have it again because you think it would make you feel better as you lounge on the sofa staring at the ceiling, tell me about it. You are also allowed to list more than one meal if narrowing it down to one is stressing you out… All food will be psychoanalyzed in a post later this week.

And now, a little summary of just a few of the cool things I read this week:

Zee is in the process of tricking her ovaries and you can read about her methods at This is NOT What I Ordered. Hopefully, letting the sperm show up without giving the eggs any warning will do the trick. Good luck, Zee!

May of Nuts in May has a post this week about receiving her husband’s SA results. After the panic of seeing the first part of a text message (and only scrolling down to read the rest of it after the fact), she ends the post with this last thought: “You know what I think it is? I think it’s because I never ovulate. H’s sperm have nothing to aim for. They’re demotivated.” Hang in there, May. I wish the results were better. Here’s hoping for small changes yielding big results.

K77 of Scarred Bellybutton has a post titled “Guilt.” It is a beautifully written list of all the ways infertility has made her feel guilty–from her current inability to give her son a sibling (I use the term “current” because I am hoping this will change for you, K77) to the money spent on treatments. And while I know I know I know my mother has a problem with the word “guilt,” her words really echoed for me and probably will for many a stirrup queen.

An emotion probably as equally familiar to the stirrup queen is jealousy. Furrow at Seed Disperal Mechanisms has a brave post about wanting a sister in the trenches. It’s not that she would wish infertility on anyone, but she wants a friend during this journey. And when someone confided that they had a uterine anomaly and had fears about their ability to get pregnant, how could she not grasp onto that idea and feel doubly crushed when this aforementioned woman becomes pregnant prior to her wedding? It’s a good post and one that, again, echoed with me.

Lastly, if you are seeking some distraction during the two-week-wait (or an equally stressful time period), head over to Painting Chef and her mix tape project. Wracking your brain to remember what was playing in the car on the way to prom is certainly more fun than staring at that box of pee stick.

Wait! Don’t click off of this post without sending me your favourite food for times of high stress–either by leaving a comment or sending me an email (thetowncriers@gmail.com) in case your food choice is so bizarre (peanut butter and bacon sandwiches?) that you must keep it semi-anonymous. There really is a point to this…
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Editing the food rules: it doesn’t just have to be comfort during the two-week-wait or during a BFN. Think big when you think comfort food: what would you want delivered to your house if you just suffered a loss? What would you want magically placed on your table once you have a crying baby in the house and need some nourishment? What could be packaged and delivered that would make you feel good without leaving the house? Remember–the more specific the better. Name restaurants. Name brands. Who knows…sushi may begin magically appearing on your doorstep 🙂

That said, if you’ve already posted your food and wish to add to your request now that you’ve seen this new bit of information, leave another comment. I’ll add it to the list. Really–there is a point to this question…

In Ann Douglas’s book, Trying Again, one interviewee states on page 132 that her “body was responsible for my children’s lives and deaths.”

I thought this was such a profound, frank, and frightening thought. Obviously, outside the womb, we understand the weight of this responsibility for another human being. But what about inside of our body–is a system that is almost entirely outside our control truly our responsibility? If my body is mine, am I by default part of this blame or celebration? We certainly congratulate the woman on giving birth as if she has done the hard work. Yet we don’t congratulate each other on other bodily functions during the course of the day (by the way, everyone, great job breathing today). The way we discuss childbirth does point towards this idea–that we are responsible for the lives and deaths of our children–even if the actual process is mostly out of our control.

Based on what we’ve been talking about for the past two days and ideas of femininity, are we simply too hard on ourselves? Do we accept the responsibility that others place on our shoulders or is it better to throw off that blame or accolades? Should we rethink how we discuss childbirth or should we embrace this idea of responsibility?

Discuss…