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Bear with me, my epiphany cont.,
Aug 5, 2002 Infertility 4 Comments
My friend M. asked me how I keep my house so clean. “One child,” I answered.
My friend K. asked me how I manage to read so much. “One child,” I replied.
My friend L. asked me how I’m able to be so prolific writing-wise. “One child,” I responded.
My friend H. asked me how I manage to be so patient with Noah. “One child,” I explained.
Yes, gentle reader, the secret to my success is my infertility.
My friend J. is a writer, too, and one of the reasons I like her so much is that when we talk we don’t shy away from talking about hard truths. Recently we were discussing how the size of her family (which is larger than she expected or planned on) limits her ability to do the things that she wanted to do with her life. Does she regret having the children that she has? Of course not. She loves them dearly. But does she regret not having the time to do the things she wanted to do? Of course she does. She’s human. And while she can’t imagine life without her kids, she does envy me just a tiny little bit for the time and freedom that I have.
Wow. That gave me a lot to think about. I’m so used to being sad about not having a baby and I’m used to assuming that I cut a pitiful figure for my less fertility-challenged friends. But here was J. saying that while she has sympathy for me, she doesn’t pity me. She doesn’t see me as a sad story at all. She sees the two of us as good women struggling to live our lives well despite circumstances beyond our control.
Let’s put all the cards on the table. Would I rather have a writing career that’s really on the move or would I rather have a baby? Now remember, these things are theoretical. It’s not like Rumpelstiltskin is standing there offering me a book contract with one hand and taking a baby from my arms with the other. So which would I rather have? The answer comes pretty easily; I want both. Ok, since I can’t have both, maybe I could be happy with having just the one right now. Maybe instead of resenting this life I’m living I could even be grateful.
It’s scary to take that step. It feels a little like slamming a door in my hypothetical child’s face. People think you’re rejecting real live children if you say, “I’ve decided to be ok if I only have this one kid” or, in the case of primary infertility, ” I’ve decided to be ok if I don’t ever have any kids.” I remember reading the blog of a woman who struggled to have children for years and she finally gave up and let go. She was writing a list of the things that she was able to do and have because she did *not* have children. Someone wrote in her comments that having children was just so wonderful that all of the experiences of the diarist couldn’t compare to it. Sounded awfully defensive to me (not to mention mean). I didn’t realize that life was a contest and whoever has babies wins. Obviously the diarist originally wanted children but she couldn’t have them so she took the (apparently) radical move to be happy anyway. Pretty inspirational, I think.
It’s going to take diligence to stay in this headspace. I expect relapses on occasion. But maybe, just maybe, not all infertility success stories end with a baby. Meanwhile, I start the clomid again tonight. Whatever happens, I’m going to work my ass off to be ok with it.
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Families and feminism
Aug 4, 2002 Feminism/Politics 2 Comments
This is for the feminist collab over at We Have Brains:
How much of your feminism flies in the face of your family? Do you find yourself at Thanksgiving dinner muffling your voice in favor of a ‘nice’ gathering? Or do you snap at your homophobic relative over the gravy?
I was fortunate enough to be raised by a feminist mother. She has been a terrific support to me throughout my feminist explorations (women’s studies classes, working for Women Against Rape, working at the shelter, coming home to be with my son). Sure, we argue about stuff (I think that we are all inherently racist and she’s very offended by that point of view; I am much more politically correct than she is; she was less concerned about gender stereotyping when she raised us) but generally we’re on the same side about things. She sends me email alerts and I send her ACLU petitions.
My older sister is a feminist, too, although less radically than I am.
My father’s a twit. What can I say. He’ll say, “You sound just like your mother” and not realize that this is a compliment.
My younger brother feels very antagonistic towards feminism because he thinks it’s chauvinistic. He isn’t a jerk (honestly!) and I’m sure it wasn’t easy growing up in a house full of feminist women who occasionally — well , more often than necessary — resorted to male-bashing to get through the day. There’s my little impressionable brother and there are these three women (or one woman and two near-women) talking about how much men suck. I guess if I was him, I’d develop a bit of an attitude, too.
In his real life, however, my brother is cool and he acts like a pro-feminist man. He’s respectful to women, has lots of women friends, and he votes the right way. Also, his issue is the environment so he gets pissed because I don’t take *that* as seriously as he does and I get pissed because he won’t listen to me bitch about the patriarchy.
My husband is pro-feminist, obviously or I wouldn’t have married him. My son, knock wood, will be a pro-feminist man someday, too.
Not a very interesting entry but what can I say? I’m pretty damn lucky. For us, a family gathering is an occasion for discussion and debate. We like that. We’re all liberals — feminist and pro-feminist — so any arguments we have are about ideas that are already within that liberal point of view. Much nicer than being related to republicans, let me tell you.
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What would I do instead?
Aug 3, 2002 Infertility 2 Comments
Last night I was thinking about when I’ll be starting the clomid again (Monday) and I realized that the desperate resolution that I usually have at the beginning of a cycle was missing. I wasn’t determined that this upcoming cycle had to be it, must be it, could not be anything but IT. I felt fine either way. I haven’t felt like this since we passed the year mark that put us in the “infertile” category.
I was relaxed the first six months of trying. Totally relaxed. If relaxation has a damn thing to do with infertility, I would have gotten pregnant because I was the Queen of Good Times and Relaxation when it came to trying to have a baby. We had sex, sex was fun, I got my period, and I shrugged it off. It was fine. After about six months, I said, “Well, I’ll start keeping track of my cycles a bit.” I circled the day I got my period on my calendar and glanced at my cervical fluid now and then. Still, totally relaxed.
Nothing happened.
When we passed the year mark, I reluctantly faced the fact that this might take a bit more effort. I wasn’t ready to start the temperature charts again but we did start being more diligent about having sex on the appropriate days.
Still nothing happened.
After about 17 months, I finally went to see my midwife and asked for a referral to an infertility specialist. That’s when we started getting tense. Boy, have things been tense.
As infertile men and women around the world will tell you, stress doesn’t cause infertility; infertility causes stress.
So last night I thought, “If I don’t have another baby, what would I do instead?” Hmmmm. What would I do?
There are a lot of great things about having only one child. The biggest luxury is time. I have time for Noah, I have time for myself, and I have time for Brett. I don’t feel pulled apart by the needs of my children and I can settle my mind on Noah without feeling like I’m forgetting somebody else. I’m pretty sure that I would have liked having two kids closer together but you know what? I really like having my family just like this, too.
My guilt ñ huge, nauseating, overwhelming guilt ñ has been because of what I can’t give Noah, namely a sibling. But Noah doesn’t want a sibling. He has never wanted a sibling. He has never asked for a little brother or sister. When Noah was two he said, “One house, one baby! That’s gonna be it, that’s all!” He has never wavered. He says he doesn’t want another baby in the house because then I will have less time for him. He says that the house is too small. He says that things are fine the way they are.
One day he said, “I feel bad for Peanut because she can’t have babies.” I said, jokingly, “What about your old mom, why don’t you feel bad for me since I can’t have babies?” He answered, “I do feel bad for you. I’m happy for *me* but I’m sad for you.”
If he’s happy for him, why can’t I be happy for him?
I’m not ready to give up hope about having another kid. I know that even though I’m feeling ok now I will very likely still have bad days. That’s the thing about epiphanies; they’re transient and very dependent upon their surroundings. Sure, I feel great now but let my sister get pregnant (and she will, god willing) or put me in the middle of a baby shower or near one of my kind-hearted friends with babies in their arms who pity me and look at me with their sad maternal eyes and all that pain will come rearing up again. However now I have a new mantra: What will I do instead? What books might I write? What adventures will I have? It’s hard for people in baby mode to see, but those of you with bigger kids know exactly what I’m looking at right now. Noah is 5 1/2. Even with home schooling on the horizon, there’s a lot of freedom in my future if there isn’t another baby on its way. having another baby would be wonderful but what would I do instead?
Life is hard and it can be painful but life is good, too. I will continue my treatment plan but I’m expanding my mindset. I am figuring things out.
p.s. If after this little monologue I get pregnant and anyone even dares to think, “Oh it’s because she finally let go and relaxed,” I will personally do my best to call down the wrath of god on that person’s ignorant little head.
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Archive troubles
Aug 2, 2002 Infertility 3 Comments
So my last journal/blog thingie was entirely hand-done. I coded the html and moved the archives over manually. I would love to have all the archives here but that means copying and pasting each one and it’s a very laborious process. I’m thinking that I may just move over entries that say something mildly interesting. All the infertility ones since I know I have visitors looking specifically for that info. All the Jewish conversion ones. And then some that are longer or that garnered some mail.
Then again, I may blow it off for a good long while.
Speaking of infertility, I finally got my period this morning at 20 days post ovulation. That’s the latest I’ve ever gotten it even using the progesterone. My doc did have me go in for a blood hCG test and I was anxiously waiting for the answer ’til I woke up and realized I’d started. I wish they’d called back earlier (I took the test Wednesday) so that I could have stopped the progesterone and spared myself the anxiety of the past two days.
I don’t get it. I got pregnant last September, November, and January so I figured that our oddds were very good at getting pregnant during the last three months of treatment. If this cycle had worked, I would have had a duedate right around our anniversary. Oh well, Brett was worried about having an Aries baby anyway.
We need to find out what our new insurance covers so we can see about doing an IUI next time.
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I’m here! I’m finally here!
Aug 1, 2002 Blogging Leave a comment
Please update your bookmarks. I’m now officially at www.thiswomanswork.com! Zowie! I finally have my own domain name! Now to go and start the endless updates…