Grief
Feb 9, 2002 Ancient Archives, Infertility
I tried to go running with Brett (and Noah in the jogging stroller and Peanut on her leash) today and ended up sitting on a park bench crying my eyes out. I’m feeling so sad lately. I lost a friend and it was a big, ugly mess when it ended. It shocked me completely because I thought we were mending things and it all turned very hostile. So that’s made me sad. And then I realized that if I hadn’t had that miscarriage in the fall I would be six months pregnant right now.
That miscarriage was much more difficult for me than I realized at the time. While it was happening I was caught up in how much it hurt and also we were driving ‘cross country back home so it felt really otherwordly somehow. But I keep coming back to it because all the signs were right. From my experience, infertile women tend to get really superstitious, always looking for signs that this month will be *it*. Well, that month should have been it. Think of it, pregnant in Oregon again at Cannon Beach where I was pregnant with Noah. Being at a wedding where everyone is celebrating family. I was so sure and it was so right and then it wasn’t right and then I wasn’t pregnant anymore.
I’ve not only lost trust in my body but I’ve lost trust in my intuition.
Here’s something that was eerily accurate for me: colorgenics. The profile I just did included this: At this particular time you are feeling the results of extreme stress and you are seeking a “way out”…but you are pushing too hard.. Obviously you need peace, tranquillity and contentment. Your temperament is such that you are hoping ,unrealistically perhaps, that your desires will shortly be fulfilled (even if at this time you are not quite sure what those true aspirations may be!). … Having experienced considerable disappointment of late and not knowing quite what to do about it this has led you to suffer a great deal of agitation and anxiety.
Thanks go to various MamaMatrix members for sharing!
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Tags: Noah
February 2002
Feb 1, 2002 Ancient Archives
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January 2002
Jan 1, 2002 Ancient Archives
January 30, 2002
I have a friend online who is also dealing with secondary infertility. It’s very hard for her because her 3-year old son is always asking for a baby brother. Noah isn’t interested in any more babies coming around. When he was around three, I remember him saying, “One house, one baby! That’s it, that’s all!” He’s still saying that. In fact, Brett and I joke that Noah is psychically preventing the conception of another child.
Today we were in the car talking about his friends in school and he said, “Lily is the smallest girl in our class.” (Lily is also his favorite although I don’t think he’s ever talked to her.) And I said, “Did you know that Lily’s mother is pregnant? Lily has one little sister already and soon there will be another baby in her house.”
“And Johnny has a brother,” Noah said. “And Matthew.”
“Actually Matthew has two big brothers and one little sister.”
“What about Keegan?”
“Keegan has a big brother, a big sister, and a little sister.”
“But I don’t have anything. I’m all alone.”
“That’s right,” I say brightly although I’m giving Brett a pained look. “You don’t have any siblings.”
“Boy,” he crows. “Am I the lucky one!”
Isn’t that funny? I mean, he’s very clear that he does *not* want to share his mommy and daddy and he doesn’t want any baby stealing time that he believes is rightfully his. I think that’s weird because it’s not like he has a bunch of real world experience about this. Anyway, it does make it easier for me than it does for my friend. I certainly don’t feel like I’m denying Noah something he desperately wants.
I think he must have come from a huge family in a past life because he has a very realistic view about the nature of having brothers and sisters.
January 29, 2002
Wow! What a party! We had it at a local ice cream place and it was crazy-busy when we got there. I was worried because most of my friends have a similar birthday philosophy (less is more) to mine. Walking in and seeing all of these screaming kids leaping around on the play structure totally intimidated me; especially since I was bringing 11 to 13 more children to the fray. Fortunately, the Noah’s guests weren’t cowed by the crowd, although more than a few moms huddled with me behind the glass in the birthday room. Brett, as always, was wonderful and did more than his share of work keeping an eye on the kids. Everyone seemed to enjoy the tour of the ice cream factory and the cake, of course, was a hit. Present opening went off well (thank goodness). The kids brought their presents to Noah and he opened them with the giver, which was nice. The givers usually ran off to play right after so there was never a big, scary crowd around him. Children love to give presents so much that I was really worried about it if Noah wasn’t up to it. Anyway, the gifts were all very thoughtful and nice. Even better were all the carefully drawn cards, with their sprawling, scrawling signatures.
January 28, 2002
HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOAH!!!
Today was rough for Noah. Having a birthday is a lot of pressure. He woke up and immediately jumped on the scale. Then he ran to his “measure-er” (growth chart). Then he tried on his size 5 sweatshirt which was *still* too big. He was very disappointed. Later, after cupcakes at preschool and two hours at a park with friends, he was talking about his “not good” day. As we were walking back to the car, he said, “But it was just an ordinary day. It didn’t feel like a birthday at all. I remember it was the same thing when I was three and turned four. I still felt three. I still feel four and I’m still short as short can be.”
Doesn’t that break your heart?
So we talked about expectations and birthdays and how it takes *so long* to grow as tall as you want to be. Tomorrow is his party and I hope it goes well. I hope it’s not too overwhelming for him.
He’s a lot like I was when it comes to birthday party pressure. I remember being all jazzed up and excited about the presents and then the grand day came and it was all a raging disappointment. And I felt so damn guilty for being disappointed. I was aware that everyone was watching me and happy for me and it felt like so much pressure. I would shut down; becoming morose and unreasonable. I didn’t *like* feeling miserable but I didn’t know how else to get everyone to LEAVE ME ALONE. There’s a certain amount of pressure that Noah is simply going to have to learn to live with because there are people who care about him and want to celebrate his birthday with him. Also, he *wants* a party even though parties are really hard for him. It’s hard to watch him struggle but I do the best I can. I can’t protect him from expectations but I do try to be an interpreter.
The other thing I try to do for him is to let him know that how he feels is entirely in his control without guilting him about it. So not like: “You have no one to blame but yourself for your bad mood, you nasty little brat!” More like: “It’s painful to be in such a bad mood, and if you’re interested, there’s a way out.” I’m not always successful at conveying such sympathetic cheer. Sometimes I’m too busy trying to deal with my own disappointment. It’s hard to do up something special for someone who can’t act appropriately appreciative. It’s hard to remember that sometimes the appreciation will be coming further down the line.
My dad used to lecture me all of the time about P.M.A. (positive mental attitude). He was an insurance salesman at one time then later the manger of many insurance salesmen. (Note: that’s salesMEN. It was a very old school kind of company with corporate wives, etc.) Anyway, he used to get incredibly frustrated with my willful pessism and now, with a willfully pessimistic child, I understand his frustration. But since I’ve been said child, I understand that, too. What I want to do is give Noah tools he can use to get out from under his pessimism. Whether he chooses to use the tools or not is up to him. I can’t MAKE him be cheerful or MAKE him see all the good things on any given day. All I can do is point out the bright side. Like today I said, “It feels like a not good day right now because you’re feeling so disappointed. You had some high expectations for today and you’re sad that some things didn’t live up to it. But you know what? I remember that you got to play with Johnny, and you had cupcakes at school, and you liked your presents this morning. Those were good things.” This is different from what my dad used to do. He would have said something like, “It’s only bad because you have a bad attitude! Look at all the great things that happened today!” And I would have just hunkered down a little deeper in my bad mood and he would have torn his hair out. Noah, on the other hand, asked for (and got) some extra cuddling. I won’t say he came out of it singing like Little Orphan Annie, but he’s not moping in some corner either.
It’s *hard* to be little!!!
January 27, 2002
In 37 minutes, it will be Noah’s fifth birthday. Tonight when I was helping him get ready for bed, I was telling him baby Noah stories. His favorite is when I tell him what I said the minute he left my body: “It’s a boy! It’s a Noah!” He also loves to hear about when he was a few weeks old and pooped in the tub. He likes that one so much because I imitate Brett jumping back with his eyes bugging out. That makes Noah laugh like crazy.
He’s such a wonderful little boy. It’s such fun to have him around.
Brett and I went to go see The Lord of the Rings today and it was grand. I’ve never read the book although I read The Hobbit a zillion and one years ago. I didn’t like it way back then but I’m rereading it now and enjoying it. I can see why I didn’t like it when I was thirteen though. I mean, I guess I can. I was frustrated by how glib it seemed. That’s something that bothered me about the Narnia books, too. (Note to readers: all the links back there are very lazy and don’t go to the appropriate sites at all. However they go to sites that are almost appropriate and so I’m leaving them.)
Speaking of the movie again, I couldn’t help but notice how much the elves looked like Noah.
January 25, 2002
Not so great news:
Say what you will about Madonna (that hussy) she is the DISCO QUEEN. I downloaded a bunch of 12 inch mixes and just got done working out. I know that Guy Ritchie (and several thousand gay men) will agree with me; she gets my heart rate up like no one else.
I decided I want to write something for Cuntzilla so that I can have their name on my writing resume. It sorta sets off the gentle parenting mags I’ve been in thus far, wouldn’t you say? I think my endorphins are all out of whack. I can barely see straight to type. I should probably go cool down and come back to my blog, err, I mean DIARY later. Ahh, what the hell. Just take it into account that I’m writing under the influence and please excuse any typos or mixed metaphors, etc.
The reason I’m running as fast as I can so to speak is that I’m freaking out a bit about the possible miracle baby doctor test results. Maybe I’ve been in deep denial but I’ve always been sure that there was another baby meant to come out of my body. I got depressed about how long it was taking but I was still pretty sure. Now I’m not so sure. I’ve been trying on the word “barren”, kinda rolling it around in my mouth. Picturing myself in ten or twenty years without another birth to my credit. Checking in with how that might feel.
My conclusion? It would feel lousy.
Not Sylvia Plath lousy, but like a whole lotta pain for a good long time. I can see that one day I would learn to live with it (which is not the same thing as getting over it) but only after climbing a big old mountain of pain.
The fact that I’m more than willing to adopt, by the way, does not negate the pain I have about not having another biological child. Wanting to adopt and wanting another child are pretty separate issues; something some well meaning friends don’t seem to get.
I’m off to hit the showers.
January 22, 2002
I know that I’m very lazy about linking to things around here which really makes this a diary, not a blog. At least not technically. < — look a link!
I heard from the miracle baby doctor’s idiotic “clinical support” woman. According to the tests, I don’t have insulin resistance (which is treatable through diet and sometimes medication) but I may have some kind of antibody problem. I have to have another blood test to figure it out. I can’t find out much about it online, but it looks like it’s somewhat treatable (although they said that after treatment, 60% of women were able to carry a pregnancy to term — not exactly exhilerating stats). I don’t know what to think. I don’t exactly want to hope for this specific fertility problem but I want to know what’s wrong. If this diagnosis ends up being right, my chances of miscarrying increase every goddamn time I get pregnant.
January 21, 2002
I spent most of yesterday writing an article about being Jewish and not circumcising my kid(s). I wrote it about ten times and then turned around and wrote it again. I had all these drafts opened up in Word and I was flipping around in them finding bits and pieces that worked trying to smush it all together or blow it all apart.
That’s the sort of thing that writers call fun.
I got a bunch of books this weekend, too, all related to Judaism, motherhood, or infertility. I seem to be stuck in a groove, wouldn’t you say?
I can see that people are finding my site by typing my name into Google and I wonder who those people might be. Out yourselves, would you, please?
January 20, 2002
The picture tube on our television blew out so Brett and Noah decided to dismantle it. Noah did all the work of unscrewing the back of it and now they’re messing with the wires.
I’m feeling like homeschooling might really work out for us. I was looking at the everyday things we do around here and realized that we might be pretty good at it.
On Friday I told someone that I rarely play with Noah and I think she was appalled. I was trying to defend myself but doing a pretty lame job of it. The truth is that I think straight playing is pretty boring. I do it but reluctantly and not very often. Now when I talk about playing, I’m talking about making his little people talk to each other or having beanie battles and stuff like that. I don’t do those things very well; it bores the hell out of me. Brett’s pretty good at that stuff so they play those types of things every night. As for me, maybe once a week. I do a lot of other things, though.
As I said, with an eye to homeschooling I was looking at the relationship Noah and I have and realized we do *a lot* together. We cook and clean, we talk, we read. We sing songs and listen to songs and dance to songs. I help him set up his “spear-a-ments” (experiments) and write things down he wants to say. We play board games or put together puzzles. We go to the library and pick out books that look fun and books that talk about things he wanted to research. (It was volcanos last week.) Mostly what we do is talk. Most of his playing is done somewhere near me (but not all, his playroom is in the basement and there are days where he wants to do all his playing down there). If he’s doing art or playdough or being a cowboy, he’s generally doing it close by and talking to me about it or asking me to watch a specific event he’s creating. He’s also really good at playing alone. He does go down to the playroom somedays and just stays there setting up elaborate scenarios. Sometimes if I go down to visit, he’ll get self-conscious and ask me to leave.
So I suck at playing but maybe that’s just fine. People are amazed at Noah’s ability to amuse himself for long periods of time. I guess I take a Jane Leidloff point of view that parents don’t have to entertain their children and that kids do well just left to themselves in rich environments with respectful, attuned parents. But I do feel guilty when I hear about my friends who get down on their hands and knees to play. And I feel very fortunate that Brett does all of that with great aplomb.
I suppose most of my feeling guilty has more to do with how often I get to spend time doing what I want to do. On weekdays I get so much computer time because Noah does play so well alone. Or he’ll come in here and work at his art table while I’m typing away. I also have no trouble feeding my reading habit. I know it’s shocking to other moms (because when I tell them this their mouths drop open) but I get to sit on the couch with a cup of tea and a book daily. Sometimes the fact that I’m having fun makes me feel lousy even though I can hear him in the other room having fun, too. It’s ok for him to have fun without me, right?
Jeez, listen to me. I’m so insecure and defensive.
(sigh)
January 18, 2002
You know how I said Noah definitely was not going to kindergarten and then that he definitely was? Well, he’s not again. I’m pretty sure that this decision is going to stick. Now I have to decide whether or not to do 5-mornings a week preschool or not. I want to try homeschooling him actually but he could do preschool, too. As to actual, beyond kindergarten homeschooling I’m less sure but I’m researching it. It’s such a long, convuluted mess in mind. I have so many issues with homeschool and public school that I feel like I’m stuck choosing between two less-than’s. I hope I start feeling better about one or the other *soon.*
Speaking of things academic, I’m not going back to school anytime soon either. I just don’t want to badly enough to put up with the hell of it yet. Someday though.
Tonight I was making letter cards for Noah. He likes to say, “What does X-G-Y-A spell?” And then he laughs when we sputter through a pronounciation. I decided to make cards so that he could actually build the “words” for us and Noah wanted to help. He made A through L before feeling overwhelmed. I was impressed. I had no idea he knew how to make all of those letters. He’s doing a lot of pre-reading stuff now. Actually he’s been doing pre-reading stuff since he was 2 1/2, I have no idea when he’ll actually decide to be a reader. It’s enough that he’s having so much fun getting there.
January 17, 2002
I’m having a bad day. Tomorrow will be better. Meanwhile, this page I made makes me very happy.
January 15, 2002
Oh my god. Please go read this. It’s the most moving, thought-provoking piece I have *ever* read online. I think this is probably how the children in concentration camps felt but homelessness… I don’t know. It happens right in the middle of splendor, you know? It happens while the rest of us walk right on by. I wonder if the kids at the shelter I worked at had any ideas like this?
Thanks go to Rebecca.
January 14, 2002
We had a spring-like day today so I took Peanut with me to Noah’s preschool and walked with her while he was there. I trash-picked a big, vintage, drum-like box that used to have candies in it. “Christmas creams and jellies” to be exact. I figured it could hold toys but Noah co-opted it for a scheme involving his Velociraptor puppet, a small stuffed frog, a giraffe and Fluffy his plush dog. When he’s done with it, I think I’ll stick the wooden animals in there.
I’m feeling really grateful for friends tonight. The great thing about a life crisis (and I’m talking about my infertility here, folks) is that you find out who your friends are. Kinda sucks to lose some of ‘em, but it’s fulfilling to meet the ones you want to keep. And I’m making some new ones which is swell.
Life is good. It’s not predictable or easy but it’s pretty damn good.
January 13, 2002
I had a GREAT birthday.
Brett took us out to dinner and then we came home and he and Noah showered me with gifts. It’s so great because now Noah picks stuff out and gets excited about giving presents to people. He was so pleased that I loved his gift! It was a really lovely evening. And then yesterday we went on a 3.5 mile hike with Peanut. Brett carried Noah part of the way but Noah walked far enough that he fell asleep pretty early last night.
I am so damn lucky! Brett is so freakin’ marvelous and kind and considerate. He’s so good to me. I swear it lowers my blood pressure to get a hug from him. The best way I can explain it is to say that being with him is like drinking cool water: delicious, satisfying and utterly essential. (sigh)
January 10, 2002
Updates:
hi dawn, sorry I haven’t been touch, this has been a very difficult (and
slow) fall in NY. I have sent the ms. to four places and had it
returned by all but one (though my conversation recently with her was
tepid. The responses have been pretty lukewarm, just not seeing how a
book like this serves a particular market. Meanwhile, because business
basically came to a standstill here I have not been particularly
aggressive and will get more so now that the new year has begun.
This isn’t bad news because 1) I don’t really want to write this book anymore although I will if someone hands me a check; and 2) there’s still hope. Mostly it was nice to hear that she was actually working on it. It sucks for her, too, ‘cuz agents don’t get paid unless their clients get paid. I clearly didn’t do a good job of explaining the market in the proposal especially since it’s a general pregnancy book (with a twist!) in an industry that is already awash in general pregnancy books.
January 7, 2002
Noah’s drawing ability is developing. Since the end of summer, his people have lost noses but gained pupils. They now have hands, too, although they have yet to obtain bodies. He will be 5 at the end of the month.
January 5, 2002
I have an article to write due on Monday but I’m taking a break from it. It’s a hard piece to write because it’s organizationally difficult to get down.
Today I wanted to talk about yet another challenging aspect of secondary infertility. There is this woman in my life that I’m not going to name or define, but anyway, she’s there kinda around the edges. She used to be a bit more present and gradually we’ve grown pretty far apart. She was only close to me — if you can call it close — because we’re related in a way and at one point, our parenting values were somewhat similar. There was a lot we couldn’t talk about because she’s a fundamentalist Christian but she used to call and we’d chat about breastfeeding or what-have-you. She seemed lonely at the time. I never really felt a bond with her but we got along ok as long as we stayed away from certain conversations (abortion, for example, or the unerring truth of the bible). She is quiverful-minded, which means that she doesn’t use birth control, not even natural family planning. She got pregnant with her second child when her son was only six months old and he weaned at 9 months. I thought this was terribly sad at the time, still do, and don’t really understand her unwillingness to learn her fertility signs. She says that God knows exactly which egg goes with which sperm and far be it from her to choose to have or not have sex based on her fertility at that moment. I think this is a bit irresponsible. I mean, these are god-given fertility signs after all. I don’t care for willful ignorance and thinks it’s a shame that her old babies get pushed out of her arms so quick but, hey, it’s her body and her family.
She got pregnant, as I said, with her second child when her son was a mere six months old. Her daughter was born when Noah was nearly two years old. When she called to announce her daughter’s birth, she got Brett on the phone and he was dutifully excited and congratulatory. When I picked up the phone, she said, “Now when are you going to give that poor man a baby! You can just hear the baby hunger in his voice!”
At that time I was struggling with the decision whether or not to start trying for another baby. My sister had been trying for some time and I couldn’t see getting pregnant with my second child when my (older) sister hadn’t had one yet. I knew that would be excrutiatingly painful for her and I hated the thought of it. The other thing was that Noah was still nursing a lot and I worried about our nursing relationship. Brett was noncomittal about it. He liked the idea of another baby but only in a vague, someday sort of way. I remember crying after the phone call feeling guilty about it all. I did want another baby at that point but those concerns and Brett’s ambivalence were very real. I felt like maybe she *had* heard something in Brett’s voice that I was ignoring and even when he assured me that he didn’t feel ready yet, I still felt so lousy.
When she got pregnant with her third baby (who was born when her daughter was 17 months old and her son was a few months from three-years old), she asked again when I was going to give poor old Brett another baby. This was a period when we were fairly close and I finally confided in her all our fertility problems and the miscarriage and everything. At this point, I think we had been trying for maybe a year? Close to it anyway. As I’ve said in this blog before, her answer was, (giggle) “Well, maybe I’ll make up for you!” Meaning, of course, that I shouldn’t be bothered by my barreness since she was fertile enough for us both.
She called a lot when she was pregnant with this third child because it was, for many reasons, a difficult pregnancy. I started to realize that not only did we have nothing in common and not only did I find talking to her increasingly excrutiating but that the things we did have in common were fading fast. Other than a sling-baby kind of mentality, we don’t parent alike *at all.* Obedience is more important to her, for one, and free-thinking is more important to me. She stopped calling me after her son was born and that was fine with me; we no longer had anything to say.
Back to that phone call a few weeks ago: she called and I was surprised and a little apprehensive to hear her voice. Her son is now 9 months old so I figured she would be pregnant again any minute. But no, she had a breastfeeding question, I answered as well as I could and then I got off the phone ‘cuz Noah was needing me. Later I thought that maybe she’d read my blog and was going to offer some consolation around my miscarriage. Then I realized she doesn’t know about this page and probably couldn’t find it if she did.
Then she called someone else we both know about a week later to announce her (fourth in four years) pregnancy.
So here I already have issues with this woman that I really wish I didn’t have. And since we’re sorta related she *is* going to be a presence in my life in some ways. And it’s hard when someone gets pregnant easily and harder still when you think that person is a little nuts for getting pregnant. I mean, there’s jealousy and sour grapes which makes a person (me) feel guilty for shaking my head as I would anyway. Her body is showing the effect of all this gestating and birth and I do think she’s crazy but here I am with my one little boy and then I just get depressed.
This fourth baby will be born at around the time I would have delivered had I not miscarried. I don’t usually notice stuff like that; I know some infertile women do but I don’t. Still, it’s hard not to in this instance. She got pregnant, gave birth and is now pregnant again in the time since we started trying. I can’t help it; I’m jealous. And I hate myself for being jealous because I wouldn’t want to be her in a million years. But it does seem so unfair. And it’s harder, too, because I know that my infertility and her amazing fertility is a sign to her that she’s right and I’m wrong. I know I shouldn’t care what she thinks but sometimes I have the sneaking fear that maybe my infertility *is* the curse of an angry God. I know that’s stupid. I am certain that God doesn’t work that way. It’s a weird superstitious sort of thing that creeps in sometimes when I’m feeling down about all this and I guess it’s creeping in a little today. Anyway, I’m ashamed to write down about all my petty little jealousies but I know it’s a tremendous relief when I stop on a TTC board and read about other women struggling with those same ugly feelings. Hopefully a glimpse into my own occasionally black heart will make someone else feel better about hers. Not to mention that venting helps. 
January 4, 2002
All this bad reproductive stuff happening to people around me. One of my dearest friends had an abortion today; she is very sad. Another friend got bad news on an ultrasound. Not definitive bad news, mind you, that she could just find a way to deal with but bad news that is going to haunt her until the definitive test happens. This hasn’t been an easy pregnancy for her anyway. I’m feeling so sad for them and so helpless. There is not one damn thing I can do to make these things easier for them.
I went to the College of Social Work at OSU yesterday to talk about the MSW program. It’s a lot of work. More importantly, it’s a lot of time. I definitely want my MSW at some point but I’m worried about taking it on next year. In theory, I love the idea of dropping Noah off at his fabulous alternative kindergarten then going to my own class, coffee in hand. Me, an aspiring social worker out to save the world; him, a funky little five-year old hitting the library with mama. It sounds so crunchy and cool, doesn’t it? Let’s pause for a moment and picture it in all its 70s-era glory. Ok, now back to reality. How in the hell could I fit it all in without going insane? And how could Noah stand a mommy even more preoccupied than usual? I could go part-time and take three or even four years to do the two-year program and that sounds much better but here’s the dilemma. What if I get pregnant?
You’re allowed to take up to six years to complete the program. If I go part-time, that has me putting a two-year old in daycare at some point. I just couldn’t do it. I know I’m not explaining this well but trust me that getting my MSW + having a baby = daycare for said baby.
So what do I do? Continue to put off my goals for a baby that’s not showing up? Say to hell with having a baby and pursue school, diligently using birth control? (And let me just say that preventing conception sounds like the funniest thing in the world to me; like some sick joke.) Go ahead and enroll and just deal with it all (baby in daycare or mommy out thousands of dollars) when it happens?
This, my friends, is why I have a therapist.
My feeling right now is that I’m going to try to get into the MSW program. That’s it. I’m not making any decisions past that.
January 3, 2002
Noah has been dealing with (ahem) some anger issues lately. It comes out in big rip-roaring screaming fits. Fortunately, I just finished re-reading (for the 197th time) How To Talk so Kids Will Listen… so I’m prepared for helping him deal with his anger. Examples? Here you go:
Event: Noah wants me to fix his computer game when I am 15 minutes into my 25-minute work out. I don’t go to help him ’til my workout is over which is the deal in our house. Too late. He’s pissed.
Noah: GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY!
(I dutifully leave and Noah slams his bedroom door behind him)
Noah: (barely muffled by the closed door) SHE IS A STUPID MOMMY! STUPID STUPID STUPID! STOO-PID! (starts laughing and sing-songs for awhile) Stupid Stupid Stupid. (comes out of the door looking contrite) Mommy, I’m sorry I yelled at you so much. I think we need to be a little nicer to each other today, ok?
Event: I changed the way his bed looked.
Noah: I HATE YOU! YOU ARE THE STUPIDEST STUPID MOMMY! (makes horrid faces at me and sticks out his tongue)
Me: You are FURIOUS!
Noah: I AM NOT I AM *SAD*! YOU ARE A BAD LISTENER! YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED ME BEFORE YOU CHANGED MY BED!
Me: You’re right, Noah. I should have asked you and I apologize.
Noah: YOU ARE A MEAN MOMMY AND I HATE YOU!
Me: You are so upset. I wish I could help you feel better. Do you want me to fix the bed?
Noah: GO AWAY!
(I go away.)
Noah: (while making the bed the way he likes it) I hate this! This is so stupid! I have to fix this now because I hate this!
(Noah comes across the hall and climbs into my lap. We cuddle and rock for about ten minutes. I apologize again and he forgives me.)
Event: I have no idea. It could have been anything. Maybe we were out of cheerios or his Monsters Inc. socks were in the wash or the moon was in the seventh house and Jupiter was alligned with Mars.
Noah: I AM GOING TO BREAK THE COMPUTER AND YOU WON’T HAVE ANY COMPUTER ANYMORE EVER!
Me: Wow! You’re mad enough to break the computer? That is really mad!
Noah: YEAH AND TEAR UP ALL THE CLOTHES IN THE HOUSE! (pause, begins chuckling) Except *my* clothes ‘cuz then I’d have to be naked and be a naked tushy boy!
His anger is huge but burns out pretty quickly. We can talk about it afterwards and he can explain more clearly what was bothering him. He’ll joke about it later, like pretending to freak out again when a similar situation comes up. He’ll pretend to stomp and scream then start laughing and shake his head. He’ll say, “I’m not going to do *that* again!” I’m really proud that he’s able to own his anger then let it go. I think Brett and I deserve a wee bit of the credit for that.
January 2, 2002
We have all of these expenses coming up. Just spent almost $100 on a new sump pump; we’re joining the temple for a chunk o’money; and we need to take a giant tree down in our backyard to the tune of $2000. We’re using a credit card for the damn tree because who has thousands of dollars lying around? I need to get another part-time job and I’m a little worried. Right now all the retail places are laying off all their holiday help. I also have such time constraints. The earliest I can get to a job (and it needs to be a job close by for me to get there) is 6pm. My birthday is next week and Noah’s is two week’s after. I told Brett I don’t need anything for my birthday but we wanted to throw Noah a party this year. He’s always had family parties up until now but he’s old enough to want a “real” party. Since our house is small, we’re thinking of getting a party package at an ice cream place. I need to call today to find out how much it is.
My right eye has been twitching for three days now and I’m sure it’s money worries.
January 1, 2002
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Best thing that happened in 2001:
–Getting Peanut
Worst thing that happened in 2001:
–September 11th
Greatest accomplishment this year:
–Changed the way I viewed my infertility; lost twenty pounds as part of a health-seeking plan; made great strides in therapy
Goals in 2002:
–Continue my healthier lifestyle; continue finding opportunities for growth in life challenges; keep my house cleaner; control my temper more; study my torah
I’m reading a book called Bitter Fruit which is “women’s experiences of unplanned pregnancy, abortion and adoption.” Now you might think that a person dealing with infertility would find it depressing to be reading stories about women who are more fertile than they’d like to be. However when I read books like these (and books about other women’s experiences with infertility like the excellent Wanting a Child) I find comfort in the realization that I am not alone in struggling with my reproductive life. Too fertile, not fertile enough — two sides of the same coin. Quite frankly, I would rather be here — loving husband, lovely son, roof over my head — then where I might have been if I *had* been more fertile back when fertility was my enemy. I feel very fortunate that I was never faced with an unplanned pregnancy. My infertility may be a burden now but it was a blessing back when I was younger. Does this make sense? Anyway, the book is very moving. Life isn’t easy for any of us.
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December 2001
Dec 1, 2001 Ancient Archives
My first two years’ of entries, now in my new(er) blog! Read the rest of this entry »
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November 2001
Nov 1, 2001 Ancient Archives
Step into the wayback machine! (Below the cut) Read the rest of this entry »
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Tags: clomid, homeschool, Infertility, Music, Noah, Portland, preschool
