All the girl drink drunks in the house say “yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

I have to say that pouring drinks for the last 48 hours has been as emotional and cathartic as the creme de la creme list. Just sitting down with a bunch of awesome women and hearing what was happening in everyone’s life. It was much better than a night out on the town because I didn’t even have to leave my own living room. The best part was when I’d go to someone’s blog and someone else would have been there before me saything that they read about how they were going through X and they were going through X too. And that’s the whole point of having a place where everyone knows your name. Because everyone is comfortable reaching out to anyone else who comes through the door and you meet new people who you didn’t even know were going through the same shitty experience as you or thinking the same shitty thoughts as you. And suddenly, you’re not so alone. So I’m calling a monthly drinkfest. My bar is always open, of course, but once a month, I’m running specials for 48-hours where everyone can come to my virtual bar and drink and bitch and comfort and cry and laugh. So there. That’s my new New Years Resolution–more imaginary alcohol and girl time (boys are welcome too, but you guys never show. Come on, Smarshy. Pull up a barstool and have a good vent). Another drinkfest to follow soon in February–remember to drink responsibly and such.

And on that note, if there is anyone out there who has done GIFT or knows someone who has done GIFT who is open to passing along any info, could you write me at thetowncriers@gmail.com. There’s a stirrup queen who can’t do IVF and needs to do GIFT. She isn’t finding doctors open to performing the procedure since IVF has sort of steamrolled over GIFT with better results (but sometimes better results need to be discarded in favour of less invasiveness or a personal preference). So if you have any info on GIFT, please let me know and I’ll put you in touch with her.

And on that note again, as many of you know, Manuela went (sniff) password (waaaah) protected this week (gasp, sniff, gasp–wipes nose on sleeve. I know it’s gross, but what can you do). She got out the password to people that she knew read the blog. But let this be a lesson to lurkers–comment at least once in a while so people know that you’re reading 🙂 If you are trying to get in touch with Manuela, she has set up an email account for people seeking the password: seekingpinkline@gmail.com.

Lastly, before I even get to all the goodness I read off of the blogs this week, I wanted to send out a welcome to two newly-minted blogs I just found. Cathleen’s is so new that it still has the protective cover on it–it still has that new blog smell. Which is the best because you can literally follow her recorded journey from point one. You can read along at the Iron Circle. The other is Ava’s at Trying Is the Fun Part. She just started posting at the end of December so if you run over there right now, you can catch her recorded journey mostly at the beginning. Go over and give these ladies a warm welcome to the Blogosphere.

And now, the blogs.

The Oneliner put together a list of blog entries that changed her life–in other words, they changed how she felt one day or made her see the world in an entirely new way. And I think this could be a brilliant new meme. That Oneliner is one smart chickie. Go read the Oneliner’s list and then start your own!

Artblog has a great post this week about quitting or setting personal limits with trying. She has been working on having another child for five years and those five years have been a mix of frustration and loss. She writes about her limits: “Because, I’ve come to the decision that I DON’T want to spend my most precious years, worrying, miscarrying, aborting or burying more of my babies! I CAN’T do that to myself. I CAN’T do that to my marriage. I WON’T do that to LaLa. That would be really stupid of me to risk what I have for what I can’t have!…Once upon a time, I thought I’d do everything and anything to make my desire to have children come true. But to what extent? I now realise, in my case, that these extents may be the end of my marriage and/or a physiologically troubled daughter as a result! That I DO NOT want. It would be stupid of me to risk all this for another baby! Of course children are wonderful, a god send, but who am I hurting to get this?” You need to read the entire entry–but for anyone who has been struggling with setting a limit or considering how far you would go or when is the right time to change paths…this entry is important and will possibly be the one you add to your Oneliner meme on entries that changed the way you think.

Nicole at Wishing and Waiting has an excellent post this week on purchasing items when you’re living in limbo. I don’t remember which advice columnist covered this topic a few years back, but someone wrote in with the question about buying a bed when she was waiting for her boyfriend of many years to propose. She needed a new bed and she had put off making the purchase because she wanted to buy the new bed with this man if he became her fiance. Of course, he wasn’t proposing and she needed the new bed. The advice columnist (Carolyn Hax? Ann Landers?) told her to buy the bed based on what she knew right now. She wasn’t engaged so she should purchase a bed she would want to sleep in as a single woman. And if life changed and she became engaged, she would be happy to move that bed to a guest room and purchase a new one with her fiance. It sounds like good advice–we all should make decisions based on what we have in front of us, but I also wonder about it because it assumes that one has the (1) ability to purchase multiple beds and (2) won’t perform self-smackage on oneself every time they look at the object later on and remember where they were emotionally during the purchase. Head over there and weigh in on the debate because Nicole is looking to buy a car. And we’ve all put off a huge purchase at some point in our journey–whether it was a house or a car or anything else where one of the guiding criterions would have been a child.

New motherhood is hard. Breastfeeding while experiencing new motherhood is harder. Breastfeeding difficulties or not having realistic information during new motherhood which comes on the heals of infertility–an emotional nightmare. After your self-worth has taken a beating during infertility, the last thing you need is to feel like you’re banging your head against the wall with yet another thing connected to your body. Stacie at the Twinkies and some good ladies at FertilityFriend put together the ultimate things-I-wish-had-known list about breastfeeding. Even if you’re not yet in the position to breastfeed, please read and bookmark the list if you’re planning to go this route.

And that, my friends, is a small smattering of the brilliant things I read this week. Off to go drink some more at my virtual bar. An imaginary vanilla Stoli to be followed by an actual Shirley Temple l
ater at dinner. I’m such a big drinker…

This is my 300th post.

By fuck, I talk a lot. I mean, everyone in my real life already knew that. But the evidence is in black and white when you log into Blogger and it tells you that you have 299 posts…

I started this blog at the very end of June–June 25th. 300 posts in a little under seven months.

Here is the story portion of this post–I go to this bookstore/coffeehouse a lot. It’s an independently-owned bookstore and the advantage to an independently-owned bookstore is that the sellers actually know their stock and they get to know recurring customers. So I go in and they say something like, “oh, I remember how much you liked that Ishiguro book. This new book is similar–take a look at it.” And it makes me feel special that someone gives a crap about what I read and takes the time to point out another book I might like. When I lived closer to this bookstore, I was there so frequently that they named a drink after me in the coffeehouse (the “Mel” was similar to a chocolate egg cream with seltzer, syrup, and a shot of half-and-half). And it feels good to step up to the counter and have someone nod and start your drink before you’ve even ordered.

I know this will sound strange, but my RE’s office felt a little bit like that bookstore. Not to idealize the experience of having someone stick a transvaginal ultrasound wand in your hoohaa at 7 a.m., but I really love my clinic. Even in the beginning, I’d walk in and they’d immediately greet me by name (how could they not know me? I was there morning after morning for blood draws). The sonographer would ask me about our house-hunting situation. My RE would give me a pep talk every few months (“it’s okay to be disappointed, Melissa. It’s not okay to be discouraged.”). I knew the names of almost every staff member–from the billing person to the receptionist to every blood technican. They served bagels and coffee on the weekends.

And I think that made all the difference for me. It was hard that it only existed in the early morning hours and all emotional venting had to take place during an appointment or a brief call to my nurse. But I always felt like they had my back. Like we were all in this crappy boat together and they were willing to pass along any information they had that could get me to the other side. Even though I am well-aware how much I lucked out with my RE, I still wanted more. I wished I could find the empathy and support that I had in my RE’s office outside the building from other stirrup queens and sperm palace jesters. The vast majority of people who worked at my RE’s clinic were not stirrup queens themselves. They were simply people who had been in the world for so long and heard the stories of so many women that they had grown the empathy vicariously.

I tried going to support groups, but when I could barely get my shit together to make dinner, I was hardly up for getting back in the car and driving out to speak to strangers face-to-face. I tried the bulletin boards, and they were helpful, but people dropped in and out so quickly that I never got a sense of anyone else’s story. They were great about answering questions or offering some sympathy during a vent, but I rarely knew anyone else’s story beyond where they were in their cycle or their current protocol.

Enter blogs.

I’ve spoken before about why I started this blog and why I will continue writing mine long after I’ve finished the book or finished building my family. But the other side is what this blog has become for me–a cozy space where everyone is welcome (as long as they’re not making anyone else feel like crap–it’s okay to disagree; it’s not okay to be cruel). Where you can sit down after a crappy day and just cry. Where you can come running in and shout out good news (“no OHSS!”) and everyone will cheer along with you. Where you can ask your questions or give your opinion or admit to your fears or examine how you really feel about infertility.

In other words, the freakin’ infertile Cheers of the Blogosphere.

Those lyrics feel like they were made to describe my infertility experience. I just want to go where people get it. And maybe this speaks to your feelings too–to be in a place where you’re not fighting upstream against sensational articles or have relatives telling you why you shouldn’t adopt. Where people care if the anniversary of a loss is approaching. Where you can set your mind at ease by reading that thirty other people are thinking the same thing that you’re thinking. At my bar, there is no pain olympics because “you wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same.” We are all on this island and it doesn’t matter if you’ve decided to forego fertility treatments and start immediately on the adoption path or if you’re in the middle of your third IVF attempt. You are hurting. And I am hurting. And we are all on this island.

At least, that is how I hope people feel when they come here. It is, at the very least, how I feel as I write this and read comments. Because those comments connect me to your blogs and your experience. And a conversation is born. A conversation that is albeit sometimes meandering due to the logistics of the Internet. But a conversation nonetheless.

We can make life on this island easier for each other. Not necessarily “easy”, but certainly easier. Being at a clinic where everyone knew my name and knew my personal story made things easier. Being with you guys and hearing that I’m not the only one beating myself up makes things easier. Hearing another person’s point-of-view makes things easier. Knowing that I’ll be there for you and you’ll be there for me makes things easier.

I started this blog because it was what I wanted to find. A place that had information (Operation Heads Up or the Peer Infertility Counselors or the blogroll) but also brought people together (the book club or the creme de la creme) for discussion. A place that wasn’t constantly changing and moving away from its original feel. Maybe it speaks more to my stick-in-the-muddiness, but I’m not a big fan of change. I like being able to go back to a place and have it “feel” the same. This is a place where no one has to feel alone or not welcome. Where you can feel like a regular from point one. At least for me, this spot has become my cozy place where there is a drink named for every stirrup queen or sperm palace jester in the Blogosphere.

So in the vein (no blood draw jokes intended) of Cheers, pull up a seat and I’ll pour you a non-alcoholic, non-caffeinated drink (unless what you need right now is a shitload of alcohol–we have that too). And just let everyone at the bar know what is happening with you. I’d like to do this every 300 posts or so–just start an open thread where everyone can sit down, catch each other up on what’s happening, ask a question, celebrate,
start a vent, have a good cry. Consider the comments section on this post a seat around the bar. Sit down and start talking.

I’m pouring drinks–talk to me.

It’s not that there aren’t nuggets of truth in the Slate article, “The Embryo Factory” by William Saletan. It’s just that it’s written in such a glib manner that any chance he has to convince me of his argument is lost as he screws up his analogies and slides around on the slippery slope that is ethics and fertility treatments.

Profiting off of fertility treatments doesn’t feel ethically sound. Knowing that someone is netting $43,000 due to my medical condition is sort of shitty. I wish medicine was a not-for-profit endeavour.

But.

Please show me the fertility doctor who isn’t a businessperson. Show me the fertility clinic that charges solely the cost of the procedure along with minor additional funds to put towards future research, rent, or office costs. Show me the sperm bank or egg donor that provides their services solely at cost. Even if you can find a friend or altruistic donor who is willing to give this ultimate gift, there are still people in line waiting to make money–the people who handle the transaction or harvest the eggs or draw up the legal documents or perform the procedure. People see a place to turn a profit and they are making money off of the needs of others. On that end, how can one judge Jennalee Ryan unless they are judging the entire industry? And I’m fine judging the entire industry, but people should be careful when pointing fingers that they’re not involved in other for-profit endeavours off the backs of others. Diamonds anyone?

Do I find her endeavour completely sound? No–but one of the non-monetary elements that bothers me is also what appeals to me. How is that for the screening paradox? On one hand, she has gotten around the inherent judgement and screening in adoption by calling this “embryo donation.” Since it is a donation, the person accepting the embryo isn’t chosen. Like every other easy breeder out there, they are becoming a parent because they want to become a parent. As opposed to adoption where a person may want to become a parent, but they need to be screened and have an agency agree that they are ready to be parents. This is, of course, in the best interest of the child. One wouldn’t want to place a child in an abusive situation. But since easy breeders don’t have to jump through these hoops and prove their worthiness (anyone who has dealt with CPS knows that it is very difficult to remove a child from their home even when abuse has been proven so the whole “we all do have to prove our worthiness” argument doesn’t really hold up), why should people who need to use a donor’s embryo due to a medical condition or age? That’s the paradox–I don’t want the screening, but I do want the screening.

There have been cries of racism and eugenics. Saletan sounds horrified that a blond-haired blue-eyed customer would like to have a blond-haired, blue-eyed baby. In a world where it can take an additional ten minutes to get through the food store as everyone needs to ask you invasive questions about your children, I completely understand the desire to circumvent that situation by using donors that resemble you physically. I completely understand the desire to have a donor who is at the same education level as the prospective parent. I understand the desire to find your almost-doppelganger. The You who can conceive. The You who can provide you with the materials to reproduce.

I understand Saletan’s fear that reproductive technology is a racing train out-of-control. Technological advances are moving faster than ethics, with the philosophers chasing after the train shouting their theses into thin air. It doesn’t truly matter what ethicists think because science keeps proceeding and proceeding. They can keep commenting, but it would be more helpful to gauge the reaction of the community and report it rather than imposing ethical debates on situations that are outside their realm of understanding.

Diane Ehrensaft, a psychologist who often counsels families who are the products of A.R.T., asks two excellent questions (amongst many) in her book Mommies, Daddies, Donors, and Surrogates that ring out during this debate over Ryan’s donation center. Do we (in this case, the collective we: Jennalee Ryan, reproductive endocrinologists, scientists, researchers, those who utilize A.R..T. to build their family) really know what we’re doing–not just in regards to this donation center, but in regards to all the advances in reproductive technology? And what are we actually anxious about when it comes to these advances? I’m posing these questions to you because I have my own answers, but they’re obviously not the only ones out there. And I’d like to add a third question: is science taking into account ethics when charging ahead–and whose ethics should be taken into account?

Maybe if Saletan had ever sat in the office at a fertility clinic and felt that desperation that comes from listing how long you’ve been trying and knowing the statistics of success, he would be able to form a better argument against Ryan’s endeavour. It’s not that one needs to have a personal stake in order to comment intelligently on an ethical dilemma. But Ehrensaft points out the obvious, “‘Icky’ feelings [about A.R.T.] reverberate loudly and clearly from people all around, in fact even more so because these folks have no investment in getting over their anxiety as they’re not the ones who are hoping for a baby.” Maybe the desire to have a child and the stark fact that I need assistance to do so enables me to quickly see the good in A.R.T. Or, on the other hand, perhaps if Saletan had personal experience with infertility or if he was a gay male seeking his best chance to become a parent, he would discuss the matter respectfully rather than trying to be sensational by creating mismatched analogies to wholesale vs. retail as well as finishing his article with the cold and crass statement: “Tested, personalized, affordable, disposable. You’ve come a long way, baby.” Smoke this, Saletan.

Skip the movie and dive into the book…

Book: Children of Men
Author: P. D. James
Question Due: February 27th
All Questions Listed: February 28th
Post Date: March 5
(need an explanation of these dates or information on the book club? Click here)

Why Children of Men: apparently the book delves into the topic of infertility and loss more than the movie where infertility is treated simply as a device for the plot. The book actually comments on how infertility is affecting the people who can’t conceive. I thought it would be interesting to hear our reaction to the book and I’ve set up the book tour for maximum diversity of our responses. Read below…

Barren Bitches Book Brigade List (click on any of the links below on March 5th to take you to a stop on this book tour. Jump from post to post to read a plethora of opinions and thoughts on Children of Men. I will keep adding to this list until 11 p.m. on February 27th. The list is currently open)

Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters (Mel)
The Annex (Josh)
Wishing and Waiting (NCD)
Evil Mommy (Spyderkl)
King Baby (Jessica)
My Many Blessings (Tina)
The Iron Circle (Cathleen)
The Opposite of Knocked Up (Melissa)
Still Passing Open Windows (Carlynn)
Outlandish Notions (Sharah)
The Tragic Optimist (Ann)
Once (Ms. Once)
Infertility Sucks! (S)
Postcards From the Mothership (Danigirl)
My Inconceivable Life (Inglewood)
Beaten But Not Bowed (The Drowned Girl)

Not on the list and want to join? Drop me an email at thetowncriers@gmail.com. You can add yourself up until 11 p.m. on February 27th.

Side note: I bought the book at a used bookstore yesterday for $3! It was in the “mystery” section.

How the book tour works:

(1) leave a comment or send me an email (thetowncriers@gmail.com) saying that you’re interested in participating.

(2) like the first tour, I will keep adding to this list of participants so people will know who is participating and where to go to read other reviews on “post day” (March 5). You can add yourself to the list up until February 27.

(3) read Children of Men by February 27 (a little more than 6 weeks).

(4) create a single question that would kick off a discussion (in other words, any question that leads to more than a “yes” or “no” answer where someone can express their opinion) and mail it to me on February 27th (or any time beforehand).

(5) on February 28th, I will post the list of possible questions. Everyone will choose 5 questions off the list and answer them in a blog entry (if we only have 5 participants, we’ll all be answering the same questions. If there are more questions, we’ll have more variation on the blog entries because people will choose to answer different questions).

(6) on March 5, everyone will post their entry. I will post my answers too and a reminder that it’s post day so people can go around and read the entries and comment (start a discussion back and forth in the comments section). I think it will lead to an interesting discussion because even if people haven’t read the book, they may have seen the movie and can still comment. Plus, the book speaks to the experience of infertility/loss.

The best part about an online book club? That people can participate whenever they have time and the mood strikes. Too busy at work right now? Drop out for this book. Didn’t feel like reading an adoption book? No problem–join in on this one if it appeals to you. In the interest of making this as inclusive as possible, I have an idea for a book that has been translated into numerous languages and is old enough to be at most libraries. So on that note, I’d like to throw out an idea for the next book selection–Children of Men by P.D. James.

Wait!

Before you protest because you’ve seen those god-awful trailers for the movie (um…though if you’re going to protest that you turn to movies and books to escape therefore watching a movie or reading a book about infertility isn’t really an “escape”…well…you can keep protesting because I don’t really have a way around that factor), I’ve heard that the book is very different from the movie.

Josh read an interesting review in the New York Times comparing the book Children of Men by P. D. James to the current film. Apparently, unlike the film, the book doesn’t treat infertility and loss as a side plot only interesting in how it speaks to the future of mankind. Caryn James writes: “Ms. James creates a beautifully realized world, making fine points the film has no time for: childless women push dolls in baby carriages, and couples hold christening ceremonies after the births of kittens.”

Frankly, I would love to hear the thoughts of fellow stirrup queens and sperm palace jesters. Who better to bring deeper understanding to a book about infertility than men and women who have actually gone through the experience? Anyone else up to reading and blogging about the book version of Children of Men?

Here’s how it would work:

(1) leave a comment or send me an email (thetowncriers@gmail.com) saying that you’re interested in participating.

(2) like the first tour, I will compile and post a list of participants so people will know who is participating and where to go to read other reviews on “post day” (March 5). You can add yourself to the list up until February 27.

(3) read the book by February 27 (a little more than 6 weeks).

(4) create a single question that would kick off a discussion (in other words, any question that leads to more than a “yes” or “no” answer where someone can express their opinion) and mail it to me on February 27th (or any time beforehand).

(5) on February 28th, I will post the list of possible questions. Everyone will choose 5 questions off the list and answer them in a blog entry (if we only have 5 participants, we’ll all be answering the same questions. If there are more questions, we’ll have more variation on the blog entries because people will choose to answer different questions).

(6) on March 5, everyone will post their entry. I will post my answers too and a reminder that it’s post day so people can go around and read the entries and comment. I think it will lead to an interesting discussion because even if people haven’t read the book, they may have seen the movie and can still comment. Plus, the book speaks to the experience of infertility/loss.

Okay, so online book clubs have the disadvantage that we can’t get out of the house and see each other face-to-face. BUT you get to participate whenever you have time during the day rather than a set hour. And you can blog from the comfort of your living room while wearing pyjamas. And how else can you have a book club that spans from Singapore to Washington, D.C.?

Let me know if you want in on this book tour. And start thinking ahead–what does everyone want to read for book tour #3? Plus, an interview with Elizabeth Swire Falker later this week!