Um… maybe nothing.  I think commentary about their uteruses sums it up.

So.

There is an ad in England making waves because it shows an older, pregnant woman — aged with makeup and a wig.  Its aim is to make a statement about fertility, educating women on when it begins declining, and it’s presented by the organization Get Britain Fertile.  The organization is “powered” by First Response… as in… the maker of pregnancy tests and ovulation predictor kits.  As in, they’d like you to follow this advice because they stand to benefit*.

Supporters of the ad point out that we have a similar conversation about responsible family building on the other end of the spectrum with teenagers.  Of course, it’s not just England.  We have the same conversation here.  Teens, don’t get pregnant.

Britain is laying their cards on the table and saying outright what the general public of the western world mutters behind their hand (by which I mean, put in the comment section on a New York Times article): they don’t want teen pregnancy, and they don’t want older woman pregnancy (above 35 years of age) which can be costly when a woman requires assistance to conceive and carry.  They want pregnancies to fall in that sweet spot for fertile years, exactly at the same time when women should be working on the careers that they not only want but need because in industrialized countries, we’ve made it downright impossible to live in metropolitan areas and not have two paychecks per household.

Essentially what we’re asking women to do, and shaming them when they can’t, is to be superwomen.  We should not get pregnant as teens because that would not be socially responsible, and we’d be a burden on the system because we’d possibly require social assistance.  THEN we should go to college and set ourselves up for a sweet career because women! can! do! anything! and! they! should! do! everything!  THEN right as we’re building our careers, we should settle down, preferably with a man because then we’ll be able to get right into the unassisted babymaking (not that they’re making any heterosexist commentary with these campaigns, right?), while working the full time job.  THEN, because we’re young and fecund, we’ll have said baby, while not taking any time off (because maternity leave is annoying to everyone judging by the sighs people use when they discuss someone in their office going on maternity leave) but breastfeeding exclusively (because don’t you love your baby?) while simultaneously spinning multiple assignments at work.  And volunteering because you don’t want to be a dick and not volunteer.  And hosting dinner parties.  And still having sex with your partner (we’re assuming he’s a man — though don’t call us heterosexist just because we are).  And making dinner for that widow at church.  And calling your mother.  And throwing a pinterest birthday party!

And then we’ll all be happy.  I mean, except women.  But seriously, who told you to be born with female genitalia?

Do I disagree with the base message of the ad?  Of course not.  People should be educated and understand how their bodies work.  BUT life doesn’t always match up with our bodies.  We don’t always have the support in place or the financial means to make a baby when our bodies are best suited to make a baby.  Some people don’t meet their partner at the ideal time, or they don’t meet their partner at all.  Sometimes, we could technically have a baby, but we’re not in a place in life where we could raise that child in the way that we’d like to raise a child.  Sometimes that means waiting.

Because that ad discounts the emotional.  Being emotionally ready not to populate the world — simple — but raise another human being — quite difficult.  And it discounts the fact that the western world is structured in such a way that women will always be struggling with voices yelling at them in a multitude of directions.  Everyone is shrieking: do this now!  And we can’t do it all now.  At least, not without the work force restructuring itself to accommodate family building.

When it does that, we can have a fair conversation about the uteruses of 35-year-old women.  Until then, it’s like trying to bake a pie without a pie pan.  The whole thing just falls apart.

* provided that you’re a peestick addict, and aren’t we all?

Something occurred to me this morning while I was allowing myself to be dragged onto an emotional roller coaster.

When I go to amusement parks, I never go on the thrill rides.  I’ve never been on Space Mountain or Big Thunder Mountain Railroad or even the flume ride.  I feel no guilt over this: if I’m there to have fun and I’ve paid an arm and a leg to get in the park, I’m going to go on the rides I want to go on.  I spend a lot of time in the Haunted Mansion, the People Mover, and It’s a Small World; visual rides, tame rides.  They make me happy and make the cost of admission worth it.

You know why it doesn’t matter?  Because the roller coasters still run whether I go on them or not.  They’re still out there, making their loops, and I’m happily some place else.  Those who want to get on the roller coaster can still do their thing.  I don’t have to come along for the ride in order for the ride to still play out for everyone else on-board.

So why don’t I apply the same thoughts to emotional roller coasters?

When I realized what I was doing, I mentally got out of the line for the ride.

We’ll see how my visit to the rest of the park goes.

Image: AJU_photography via Flickr

I read an interesting post last week about why creative people say “no” and how this enables them to do their own work.  It starts out with a story about a professor who was contacting creative people — writers, artists, musicians — to interview them for a book he was writing.  Out of the 275 contacted, two-thirds didn’t participate.  About 183 people turned down the opportunity to help this professor and be part of his study.  Which, on one hand, seems a little dick-ish.  And on the other hand, was probably necessary in the minds of those individuals.  The truth is that most people can’t help out every single person who asks for help and still have anything left for themselves or their own work.

In fact, the article goes on to point out:

The math of time is simple: you have less than you think and need more than you know. We are not taught to say “no.” We are taught not to say “no.” “No” is rude. “No” is a rebuff, a rebuttal, a minor act of verbal violence. “No” is for drugs and strangers with candy.

It’s a great post except it sort of misses the point that for the professor to do his work and be a creator, he needs some collaboration.  He needs people willing to give up a few minutes of their time and speak to him.  If not, being creative becomes impossible.  And in turn, this article sort of assumes that whatever everyone else is doing is Important with a capital I.  And the book this professor is creating is important, with a lowercase i.  Mr. Bellow’s books trump the Hungarian’s, hence why we should learn something valuable by the fact that Saul says “no.”

This is where the “just say no!” mantra falls apart because everyone creative needs people to say “yes.”

How would Mr. Bellow feel if he realized that no one had any time for his books because we’re all out here being creative, and we just have to say “no” to reading other people’s work?  I only find the creative people’s rejections admirable and something I should emulate if they would also graciously accept the idea that no one has the time to see or experience their creations.  I have a feeling that Richard Avedon wouldn’t have been okay if everyone brushed him off saying, “sorry, can’t see your work.  Too little time left” when he hung up his photographs.  Or if no one came to listen to Ligeti’s violin concerto, and he entered the orchestral hall to find it void of people.  Since all those people were off at home, working on their own creations.

Creative people need people to interact, consume, and above all, pay attention to their creations.  It would behoove them to say “yes” every once in a while.  Not to every request because if you’re getting dozens of requests each day, your day can easily become filled with helping everyone else and never taking care of yourself.  But say “yes” to the projects that interest you, or to the people who interest you.  I support people who have taken the time to build a relationship with me before making the request, and with any leftover time, I just give help to cool things that interest me.  Other people have their own personal rules that help them to distinguish when they should say “yes” and when they should say “no.”

*******

To be frank, as a creative person who often needs to ask people for help with my creations, I really appreciate the truthful “no” over the “yes” with no follow through.  People think they are being kind by saying “yes,” but the fact of the matter is that the moment you say “yes,” people start counting on you.  And when a person doesn’t follow through, that “yes” without the follow through becomes so much worse than the truthful “no.”  In one case, the person was counting on something to happen, and in the other, they knew to seek a different person for the task.

I would much rather have someone send back a polite rejection — I don’t even need a reason, just an acknowledgement that my request can’t be met — than promise to do something and then not do it.

The author touches on that cultural point in that quotes above — we think it’s more polite to say “yes” instead of “no.”  That saying “yes” makes us look agreeable.  Is less off-putting.  I agree with the writer because we’re taught to say “yes” even when we know in the darkest recesses of our heart that what we need to say is “no.”  So we say yes and then hope the person will understand when we don’t follow through.  We can say that we got busy, that we forgot, and they’ll understand because it happens to all of us.  But in that respect, I would rather have a truthful “no” than a “yes” without follow through.  Because not all yeses are created equally; and some have their intended meaning and some end up having an unintended meaning.  “No” in that case is not rude; and strangely enough, “yes” (when it comes without follow through) is rude.

Would you rather face the rejection of truthful “no”s or would you rather hear “yes” without knowing if it’s a yes with or without follow through?

Welcome back to IComLeavWe. It stands for International Comment Leaving Week, but if you say it aloud, doesn’t it sounds like “I come; [but] leave [as a] we”? And that’s sort of the point. Blogging is a conversation and comments should be honoured and encouraged. I like to say that comments are the new hug–a way of saying hello, giving comfort, leaving congratulations.

Here is the vital information, pure and simple (a more detailed set of rules follows below the list):

• The list opens the 1st of every month. It remains open until the 21st. You can add yourself at any point. The list is open to everyone in the blogosphere–blog writers and/or blog readers.
• Add yourself to the list by filling out this form after adding the icon below: The June list is now closed.  The July list will open on 6/27.
  
• Click here to cut-and-paste this bit of code to add to your sidebar (if you have the old code from another month, remove it and replace it with this one). You need to add the icon or a link to the current list on your blog (see below) and will not be added until it’s up.
• Commenting kicks off every month on the 21st. Please mark it somewhere (calendar, post-it note taped to your computer…), though I will be sending out an email reminder on the 20th. Commenting week runs from the 21st to the 28th. Every day, leave 5 comments and return 1 comment for a total of 6 comments. You are highly encouraged to choose the blogs you comment on from the participants list below, but this is not required.
• I will send a second email on the 28th to remind you to remove the icon from your blog.
• Read below if you want to find out about Iron Commenters.
• The commenting ends on the 28th. We catch our breath and the whole thing starts again the next month on the 1st. Drop in and out according to what is happening in your life between the 21st and the 28th.

1. Stirrup Queens (twins, books, writing)
2. Ready For My Bundle (new mom after ivf, family, smc)
3. Comatised (cancer, motherhood, married life)
4. Beloved Burnt Toast (IVF, hope, humor)
5. Feeling Beachie (life, humor, family)
6. The 2 Week Wait (infertility motherhood humor)
7. The Infertile Chemist (IVF, chemistry, ovarian reserve)
8. Baby-Making Merry-Go-Round (parenting, micropreemie, IVF)
9. Baby Baby…Please! (trying to conceive)
10. One uponce a time, things were a little wonky (faith, ttc, life)
11. Team Harries Beats Infertility (faith, hope, natural-approach)
12. Life Of An Army Wife (donor gametes, army, crafting)
13. A Bliss Filled Life (open adoption, infertility, parenting)
14. Waiting For Baby (adoption, PCOS, weight loss)
15. The Write Mama (advocate for IVF, motherhood, lifestyle)
16. Breathe Gently (new-mum, IVF, PCOS)
17. My Lady of the Lantern (neonatal loss, parenting rainbow baby, maybe another)
18. My journey through infertility, pregnancy & loss (infertility, loss, grief)
19. In My Garden Grow (IVF, fertility, research )
20. Frozen OJ (endo, health, embryo donation)
21. Unconceivably Blessed (infertility, TTC, life)
22. From Gutter to Stars (infertility, mental health, therapist)
23. the misadventures of missohkay (adoption, parenting, loss)
24. The Barreness (infertility art reflection)
25. Life As I Know It (twins, toddler, life)
26. Who Shot Down My Stork? (IVF, humor, life)
27. The Destiny Manifest (stillbirth loss, family, life)
28. Baby On Mind (infertility, adoption, embryo adoption)
29. Creating a Family (infertility, adoption, adoptive parenting)
30. Punch Today In The Face (pcos, preg after loss, 3rd due in june)
31. Mommy Loves Martinis (2-mommy family, twins, IVF)
32. Baby Makin’ (pcos, baby #1)
33. Jenn & Tommy: Life’s A Bitch (infertility, life phases, decisions)
34. In Quest of a Binky Moongee (diminished ovarian reserve, IVF, faith)
35. Dangled Carat (relationships, commitment-phobia, dating)
36. InfertilityLand Is Not Like Disneyland (infertility, loss, life)
37. Wishing on a Snowflake (embryo adoption, infertility, loss)
38. Confessions of an Infertile (IVF, FET, adoption)
39. Sweet Dreams are Made of This (adoption, life)
40. Arete Aspiration (praying, prepping, parenting)
41. Looking For That One (fet, gastric bypass, life)
42. It Is What It Is (Or Is It?) (post ART, parenting, navigating life)
43. InDueTime (life, infertility, loss)
44. Our Grisworld (pregnant, IVF2, twins)
45. Journey For My Baby (infertility, pregnancy, ivf)
46. Dogs Aren’t Kids (infertility MFI marriage)
47. R. Sativus (depression, parenting, infidelity)
48. The June list is now closed.  The July list will open on 6/27.

Q: What if I miss a day?

A: Catch up the next day by doubling your comments–12 comments instead of 6.

Q: What if I have two blogs? Can I sign up twice, listing both blogs?

A: Yes, but you also need to double your comments. If you have two blogs listed, you should be leaving 12 comments per day.

Q: What is an Iron Commenter?

A: Not for the faint-of-heart. People who wish to be an Iron Commenter and be entered on the Iron Commenter honour roll need to leave a comment on every blog on the participants list (exceptions are blogs that require you to have a special log-in, such as some LiveJournal accounts or other similar situations). You can spread out this commenting any way you wish over the whole week, but the final comment needs to be left by midnight on the 28th (EST). Reaching Iron Commenter status is done on an honour system. Please email me if you earn Iron Commenter status so I can add you to the wall of honour.

Q: Why do I have to add that bit of code to my sidebar?

A: The code is the latest icon (the icon changes colour every month so you know that you’re on the right list). This month, the icon is orangey-red, the next month it will be purple, etc. The reason is two-fold: (1) it enables more people to find out about IComLeavWe and (2) it gives you easy access to the current list once the commenting week actually begins and better ensures that you’ll use it. Too many times, people sign up and forget to actually do IComLeavWe and this icon gives you a daily reminder (with the dates on it) every time you open your own blog. The icon is linked back to the current list. On the 28th, remove the icon from your blog. A new one will be created for the next month.

Q: It’s the 23rd and I just saw this for the first time on my friend’s blog! I want to join the list–why can’t I?

A: Because IComLeavWe happens every month, once the list is closed, it’s closed. If you’re finding out about this on the 23rd, you can’t join the current month. But leave yourself a note to check back in a week on the 1st and you can sign up for the next month.

Q: You said the list closes on the 21st. Well, it’s still the 21st where I am. Why aren’t you moving my information onto the list?

A: All dates and times are U.S. Eastern Standard Time (UTC/GMT -5 hours). The list closes around 11 p.m. EST on the 21st.

Q: What if no one comments on my blog and I have no comments to return?

A: Well, that really doesn’t happen for the most part, but in that case, simply choose another blog and add an additional comment. The goal is to hit 6 comments daily as a minimum. Going over that is fantastic and encouraged.

Q: Mel, my question wasn’t covered at all. What do I do?

A: Email me; I’m quite friendly. It helps to place “IComLeavWe” in the subject line. You could also check this post which contains the history of IComLeavWe and see if you can glean anything there.

Looking for the comment section? It has been closed on this post. Use the form in the directions to add yourself to the list.

This post contains spoilers for the fourth book of Harry Potter.  If you haven’t read this book and intend to in the future, don’t read this post.

Before we ever started the fourth book of Harry Potter, I prepped the kids for the ending without giving it away.  I told them that starting with the third task, something scary was going to happen, then someone was going to die, and then something scary would happen after that.  They really had no clue who was going to die, though they knew it was someone integral to the story and not another character like Frank Bryce.

We got to the third task while we were sitting on the floor of a shoe store while Josh purchased new dress shoes.  We always carry a book with us so we can slip in a page here or there if Josh is running an errand.  The twins and I were sitting underneath a large display of argyle socks, one child on either side of me, and when it came time for the avada kedavra, I held their hands, bending my head over the book as if I was delivering a funeral sermon.

But they didn’t cry.  They didn’t even seem all that scared.

While we waited for Josh to pay, I kept trying to get them to process the loss of Cedric Diggory, but there was little to process.  “Oh,” the ChickieNob told me, “it’s sad to hear that anyone has died.  But he wasn’t a good friend to Harry, and we didn’t know him all that well.”  Fair enough.

Later in the week, we got to the scarier thing.  At least, in my mind it’s the scarier thing.  When I read the fourth book, I read it without the benefit of anyone prepping me that the end was about to get a little freaky.  I remember thinking that something was about to go down when I saw how many pages were still left after the third task and wasn’t exactly shocked when Cedric was killed.  But the part with Mad-Eye Moody?  That freaked the fuck out of me.  Especially when he took Harry away from the maze.  It felt like one of those bad dreams where you’re being kidnapped, but you can’t run for some reason because your muscles have stopped cooperating.

I used to convince myself that aliens had taken over my parents’ bodies while I wasn’t looking, while they were inside CVS and I was waiting in the car.  So the man getting back in the car, the man who looked, sounded, and smelled like my dad was really an alien impersonating my dad, and he was planning to drive me to an undisclosed location to perform experiments on me.

I had an overactive imagination.

The part with Mad-Eye Moody made me think about that alien fear and how it essentially came true for Harry.  An adult who looked, sounded, and smelled like Mad-Eye Moody but wasn’t Mad-Eye Moody.  And his goal was to take Harry to an undisclosed location and deliver him to the Dark Lord.

Gulp.

The twins felt the same way about the end of the book, though when I shared my childhood fear about the aliens with them, the Wolvog shook his head and explained that what was scary wasn’t the outlandish situations involving Polyjuice potion or aliens.  What was scary was how this could really happen: you could trust an adult who would violate your trust and hurt you.  You could trust a friend, share your secrets with them, and have them use those fears against you when you least expect it.  At the end of the day, what was so scary was this concept of trust, and how easily it could be abused.

And what can I say except they’re right?  People will let them down, in big ways and in small ways.

The ones that do it thoughtlessly will sting, but they’ll get over it.  The ones that do it maliciously will make an indelible mark on their soul.  And that was scary for all of us to think about: their understanding of the world being permanently changed by the actions of others.

Our imaginations can run away with the Voldemorts of this world, the enormity of pure evil.  But what truly chills are not the what ifs but the whens.  Because the twins have already figured out, there will be people in this world who seem trustworthy who prove otherwise, and we need to watch out for not only our physical well-being but our emotional well-being.

Big thoughts, Ms. Rowling, big thoughts.