Monday, March 11, 2013

When a Clown Tossed a Baby at My Hubby

I've been doing the best I can lately with keeping a better attitude when in public and with friends and having baby-talk and such. Plus, I've begun to actually go OUT with my hubby and do date-like 'normal' things that couples do. Amazing, I know! ;) Well, last night was a special date night.
We went to Cirque du Soleil with two other couples that we do yoga with twice a week. I thought it would be safe enough - maybe kids in the crowd, but should be safe for an IFer, right? lol...

One of the couples started out by asking me, "So, when's the little bambeano arriving?" Hubby and I dropped our jaws, not sure what he was asking. I replied before I knew it, by saying, "That's a touchy topic for me." He goes on to say he was so sorry, that he sticks his foot in his mouth all the time. My guess, my yoga instructor told him that I missed yoga the other night because I may be pregnant - only what I told her was I was that I had to miss because I needed to take care of myself and she knew I had done a procedure, so I think she jumped to a conclusion.
Then he says, oh I'm sorry, I just want you to know I want to to be it's best gay uncle! I told him he was sweet, not to worry about it, that it is a difficult thing for us to talk about. He then says, well I'm praying for you guys. DH kicked my shin and we both smiled and said. Thank you.
Then the show starts, it's cool and fun and bendie. We tease each other about our split poses and decide our yoga instructor, who was with us, would be torturing us with trying to tie into those poses this week. Then, the clowns come out. They do some random sketch that apparently means they were having sex and the girl clown turns around wearing a pregnancy pillow. They do a whole drawn out thing, DH turns to me and says, "Seriously, even at Cirque du Soleil? Can we catch a break?"
We divert our eyes and chat with each other for a second until the man clown 'delivers' 6 footballs that are supposed to be their babies.. and begins to throw them out to the audience. Guess who has to catch one?
Yep, my DH. He stared at me and looked like he was going to puke. Poor guy. They tell the men holding the 'babies' to cradle them stand up so everyone could see. And ask everyone to sing along in a lullaby. Finally, he gets to toss the 'baby' back to the clown. I could feel him trying to be a good sport as he was feeling whatever what going on in his head.
We get to the car and he says, "WTF? The only way I get a baby is by having one chucked at me by a clown?"
Eventually, we laughed about it and thought it may be a good sign. But I could tell DH was hurt. It felt like the universe was mocking us in front of everyone. Even though we were the only ones who know what we are facing.
Our friends made the expected comments, "maybe it's a sign?", "wow, now you're ready to be a daddy" .. none of it felt good and we played it off as though we weren't affected by it. But, damn. That hurt.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Wide Awake

It's 2 am I can't sleep.  I am terrified.
The dreams keep swirling around my head.
Will I? Won't I?
Is my doctor paying attention to me?
How much longer will this take?
Will I feel again?

What if I ran away? Is it possible to start over?
Will I find meaning?

Why me?

... Moments of weakness creeping up on me. So lonely and yet I put on a good show.

I am looking for something to cling to. I am holding my heart, but it keeps slipping away.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

These are my friends

So, I was a bit angry yesterday.
Sometimes I use this blog to vent.

That's the beauty of authoring content that you can post in an emotional fit and you don't have to think twice about those whom it addresses.  They will never don't know if it's about them, plus there's no telling if they are following along!

My online buddies got a peak at that post and boy did they have a thing or two to add. Many are feeling just like I describe, that so may friends & family just don't know how to be supportive. Even if they have gone through the pain of IF, no two persons have the same diagnosis or resolve. We are all different.  It seems such an easy concept. We are all different, so why not offer compassion to the relationship  when someone is hurting? Instead, I think, most people only know how to offer empathy.

According to
Empathy: the intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.

Compassion: a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.
The problem I see is that when we feel empathy, we automatically make it about ourselves, we make their sorrow with our own. We don't always reach outside ourselves to be of supportive, but instead this is where all those stories about "this one woman I know, stood on one leg and hopped backwards from LA to SFO and she now has beautiful twins", "you just need to relax".  Do this, do that, the list of 'fixes' go on and on, but the hurt party goes on feeling as though they haven't been heard.

When we offer compassion we are opening a door to join forces and find healing. I believe compassion is not offering a solution, but listening to the hurt party to support them in their own healing.

My online friends, the women on my boards, offer unending compassion for each other. It is so beautiful to read the posts they share. I have become email friends with some of them. I hope we stay friends long after our IF battle is done and well into our grey-haired days. 

I find hope in the future when a complete stranger online tells me she is thinking of me on the day of my procedure. When I get personal messages that ask how I'm doing, that she noticed my comment on another thread and it sounded like I was struggling that day. 

These are women of compassion. 
These are the mothers of the future.
These are my friends.   

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

What doesn't kill you ...

They say, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
I will soon be ready to join the cast of the Avengers.

Here we are in March already and another cycle of meds and procedures have come and gone and again, another BFN.

The tears haven't come yet. But I have created a good protection. The last couple months I have decided not to invite my struggle to my offline world. I think it hurt more to disappoint my friends and family with updates on my lack of progress than it felt good to get their well wishes. I mean for goodness sake, their lives go on. It's mine that has been stuck in a rut for all these years.

In my silence I have:
  • Listened to 'friends' tell me how 'difficult' it is to raise three children. "Did you know they get sick and have trouble falling to sleep?" Seriously? Wow, I had no idea that being an infant or toddler increased the likelihood of getting sick and that sleep takes place in their own time.
  • Felt the hugs from my siblings kids and been told that time goes by so fast. "Can you believe how fast your niece and nephews are growing older? Don't you remember when they were just babies and now they are off to college?" Hmm, imagine that - time passes fast. Do you mean like how it's been about 4 years since we first attempted to get pregnant? Do you realize that means we sh/could have a toddler? I bet you don't think about that every day like I do. And each month I still have the optimism of a child on Christmas eve. And each month I get disappointed by the emptiness of what that becomes.
  • Watched my nieces and nephews share stories about their grandparents and experience their 80th birthdays. And all I can think of is how my children may never even get to meet my parents. I hope a few of those kids will teach my kids about their grandparents. I hope my parents can tell them too.
I am stronger than you. That's all I can say.
You haven't reached out to ask me how I am doing. You, in fact, have your own life to live and your own problems to deal with. You also, no longer have my heart backing you up. I am alone on this journey. You have shown me this. And I am embracing it.

My hubby and I are the bomb. We have more strength in our pinkies than I hope you will ever have to muster in your life.