And They Lived Happily Ever After

I may post again in this space, I may not, but I thought there should be at least some kind of update.  Especially for those who might be considering egg donation and wondering how they might adjust in the long term.  Well, next term or medium term might be a better phrase.

While I am open about the process of our children's conception, I know they really don't get it at all.  You are supposed to tell kids before age 4, but how do you tell it in terms they can understand?  The other day we were driving past the building where our children were conceived and I thought of an opportunity . . . "LB, that is the building where mommy, daddy and Belinda made you and LBII.  Belinda is the lady who donated a cell to mommy and with daddy's cell we created you." 

Already I was thinking it was over her head.  It was.  She responded by pointing at a different building and said, "That is my building and that (the one I pointed at) is your building." 

Well, I tried.

Seriously though, life is good. The other day I was thinking that it is as good as it was prior to TTC when Brad and I would quietly talk about how lucky we were - a little afraid that if we said it too loud then our luck would end. 

In most ways, I suppose, we are just like any other family.  There are a few times when I feel the sadness from not having our mutually genetic baby.  There are times when I wonder what he or she would have been like.  There are times when I still feel resentful that it was my genetics who got axed when I think they could have been preserved had we not needed IVF (and gotten pregnant back when I was only 34) due to MFI.  But those times are fewer and fewer and they never hold the ache that they once did.  I still don't think it will ever entirely go away, but compared to waking up in the middle of the night while I was pregnant with LB thinking that we made a mistake - well, that is quite the difference.

One interesting moment recently came up when (I am assuming) LB noticed how often LBII was said to look like her father.  LB said, "Mommy, I look like you and LBII looks like daddy."  I agreed with her  - justifying it because she looks like me in her mannerisms at least.  Plus I saw no reason to contradict her.  What would be the value in pointing out our differences? We look alike if she says we look alike because she sees it that way.

It has made me thoughtful, however.  I wonder if she really thinks she looks like me or if she is trying to solidify her place in the family.  I wonder what challenges will be to come as her conception becomes more understood.  I think we will find our way.

The whole IVF, infertility, DE stuff does change things.  I was thinking the other day that when we froze LBII we knew the thaw rate (thank goodness vitrification is now possible!) was 50%.  I then saw it from the other side . . . OMG WHAT DID WE DO?!  WE RISKED LBII'S LIFE!" When else would you chose to put your child through something that had only a 50% survival rate?  Well, we didn't know her then and transferring her earlier may have meant we never would know her.  I am convinced I have transferred good embryos that just didn't implant.  Heck, it happens all the time all over the world - we just don't know it. 

Then I was watching them play - as older and younger siblings play  - and wondered how they might have been different if we transferred them at the same time (assuming both would be born no matter what we did) or in reverse order?  It is mind twisting sometimes.

But I digress.  I really meant to just say that the method of their conception still comes up here and there, I still mourn the loss of my genetic child to some degree and, most importantly, we are very happy.  I am so glad we decided to move on and have children in the way that we did.

Dollars and Sense

Popping in on a random day to add my 2 cents (is that a pun?) to Write Mind Open Heart's Dollars and $ense discussion.

Consider your now or future children as adults, and consider the fact that you had to spend money to either conceive them or make them part of your family. What effect do you think the latter will have on the former one day? What, do you think, your grown children might feel about the funds it took to create your family?


I don't think it will matter to them.  It's like telling your children, "Hey!  I changed your diapers!"  We know that was a way to communicate love, they see it as just your job.  I suspect it will be a running joke, but even that is hard to say.  We don't really talk about it now, but I imagine things like, "Sorry, we would love to help out with college, but we spent your college fund on your conception."

That said, it has impacted our lifestyle so that may have a long term impact on who they are.  We would have had more money for something if we didn't spend $70,000 plus on conceptions.

How did/would you handle it if your child asks you, “Mom, how much did I cost?” How would you answer at age 7? At age 18?

I suppose at age 7 I would give the conception cost, but at 18 I imagine rolling my eyes and just answering "Thousands and thousands" since I am sure the cost of raising them will still be more than the conception.  Gosh, I hope not, but I think I have seen statistics to show that is true.

When calculating the costs of your family building, what do you include? The direct costs are easy (such as RE fees for a cycle or homestudy fees), but what about fees that didn’t directly lead to your child’s existence in your life, such as cycles that didn’t work, adoption outreach avenues that didn’t work, failed adoptions, avenues that were explored (and that cost something) but not pursued, etc.?

I included everything we paid for directly: testing, IUI's, counseling, acupuncture, supplements.  I didn't include births, but I may have included the cost of Ernest's birth.  I did not include the cost of lost wages which due to a job change around the time of our son's death lead me to be unemployed for awhile and then marginally employed and then unemployed again (job was NOT compatible with a grieving, childless mother). 

If two children in a family “cost” different amounts, should that have any significance?

No, I see it as a total cost.  I do expect to have some fun with it however.  Perhaps referring to number 2 as our '$5,000 bonus baby'.

To what extent have finances determined the family-building decisions you have made? How have you able to balance financial considerations against other factors such as medical, ethical, emotional…?

With #1 (or #2 if you count the one that died) we were in the mode of "whatever it takes!" and I think the emotional impact would have stopped us before the financial.  We are still in our 'starter' house, so the financial impact has been a huge part, but I think we could have ran up a lot more debt before we called it quits.

Thankfully, or second and last was born from an FET and we don't want more.  Still, there are times when I think I might have had another kid it was free.  Doubtful, but just maybe.

Try Again

That article in Adoptive Families magazine is available online.  I guess I could have said my article.  Kind of cool, if I may say so myself.

Another Quick Update

I am last, but wanted to say that the meeting with Belinda, our egg donor, was uneventful - which I think is a good thing.  LB played with the barista and didn't seem that interested in Belinda, but a week later was talking about her.  I was a bit nervous because I am never really sure if I am going to feel threatened or not and Belinda was a bit nervous because she was afraid I would judge her for some recent life choices.  I wasn't threatened - although a little contemplative about who we are - and I certainly didn't judge Belinda. We vowed to get together more often and I hope we will.  I want any relationship our daughters might want to have with their genetic contributor to be easy and I think the key to that is an easy relationship between her and me.

I have also recently been published!  In Adoptive Families magazine, I have an article that combines a couple of my blog posts about going the DE route. I have to say, I am pretty excited.  Unfortunately, it doesn't not seem to be available online.  If you want the looooong version of the story, you can go to this post and then this one.

For those of you who might be finding me for the first time due to the article, I would like to say that I am not as sad about using DE as I once was.  If I think about how we were finally able to have children, I still feel a loss and a sense of failure, but those feelings stem from every single cycle - assisted or not - that failed and the hell that we went through.  Yes, I also still wonder if having been successful with my eggs would have been a sort of vindication, but that will never happen and I rarely think about it.

Our girls are wonderful little human beings and I hope they will have long, happy lives.  I think about what genetics mean (Would having Brad's grandmother's wedding ring mean anything to them?  Would having my grandmother's wedding ring mean the same?), but for the most part it is just a fact of their conception.  They are who they are and I am the person who gets to be their mother. 

Not What I Meant

I just reread my last blog post.  I shouldn't have blogged while working . . .I was going toward a lot more detail about Brad's mom's (Kay is her name) passing that would have made sense of it being 'good news' in some ways.  I am still going to spare the details, but wanted to say that I am not happy that she died.  One of the things that will be better (eventually) is that we will no longer be waiting and hoping that she would change her mind and want to be a grandmother to our children. It is harder now because the hope is gone, but we will also now put it entirely behind us.

It is interesting how many aspects of my life I look at differently because of the use of donor eggs.  Kay didn't want to be involved in our lives or our children's lives.  In the past I might have left it at that. Now I think that just because Kay didn't want to be a grandparent shouldn't mean that our kids couldn't have someone fill that role.  I am seriously considering shopping around for some surrogate grandparents.  Who cares if it isn't someone who is one of our parents?  I have great memories of time with my grandparents and it would be nice for our girls to have similar experiences.

Just for the record . . . my mom is alive and involved with the kids.  We hope she lives another decade or two but she has heart problems and not sure that is likely. 

Tonight we expect to get together with Belinda, our donor.  We meant to before but plans got canceled. If we get together tonight then it will be the first time in over a year.  It will be interesting to see how LB and Belinda get along.  Will LB have some sixth-sense like connection?   I will try to post how it goes.

Finding Balance

I was dying in the dessert for lack of water.  I longed with my whole being to quench my thirst.  I dreamed of the day when my need would be fulfilled. I hoped again and again and survived disappointment when the water proved to be a mirage. 

Now I am drinking from a fire hose. 

How is that for balance?  More like feast or famine.  It is crazy how life works.

The good news is that Brad's mom died.  It is sad and there is a lot of never-to-be-resolved issues between Brad and his mom.  She wasn't a horrible mother, but she wasn't a very good one either.  Her sister once said, "(Brad's mom) is just like me, she doesn't like kids."  More than that, she was almost always negative and unhappy and did very little to change that.  In fact she fostered it.  She hated winter and spent the last winter of her life - knowing she would likely die before Spring - in a cold house rather than turn the heat up.  She could easily afford it.  For probably the first time ever, her house stays nice and warm so that those of us cleaning up and selling off stay comfortable.

All of this reminds me that now is the time to enjoy life.  It is of course easier during times of feast than times of famine, but it is still too easy to forget how lucky I am.  It is my nature to see what is missing.  Lately, I have been much better about seeing what I have.

Things To Say

I've got them, believe it or not.  I have thoughts I want to share on being a donor egg mom, about remembering to live in the moment, about continuing to heal from IF hell, about how excited I am that the IRL support group I host has been able to expand to include a primary infertility only meeting, even some thoughts on parenting in general.

But what I have time for is this:

I am not much a fan of Christmas.  Early on I hated the way it overshadowed my birthday (I will be 43 on the 19th), then I learned to dislike the commercialization and the way Christmas music blasted in all the stores now seems to have the undertone of "buy, buy, buy".  Then I went from agnostic to atheist and the"Christ" part of Christmas seems silly.  I still celebrate because the secular part of it is fun and I tend to think of it more of a solstice celebration than anything - which is probably the origins of the holiday.

One thing I love though, is the lights.  In these long, dark, nights, I love to drive around and see all the lights.  I think we should stop calling them Christmas Lights and start calling them Winter Lights.  They should go up by mid November and stay until the end of January.

When I am in charge, I will make it so. 

Happy Solstice to everyone.  May you enjoy what you can and survive the rest.

Dying The Slow Death

I think that may be the fate of my blog.  It is not my intention, but it seems to be happening.  I am not ready to officially walk away and maybe things will swing in the posting direction again.

Just a quick drive by today with a fark.com-like tag line:

You notice that you might just have some pre-fertile mucus do you: A) Mentally shrug your shoulders then forget all about it.  B) Not-so-fondly remember your trying to conceive days and be thankful that those days are over. or C) Start mentally composing your text message to your babysitter to discreetly ask if she can babysit Wednesday, Thursday or maybe Friday and if she could please take the kids to her house this time - because you can't pass up the chance for a free baby no matter how remote the possibility.

Tomorrow will mark the 6th anniversary of Ernest's birth.  There are so many what if's that go along with that. 

His younger sisters are doing great.  They can play together more and more every day and there are many times I think, "I am meant to do this (to be a mother)."  Not in any spiritual sense, but by my genetic and environmental programming.  It is nice to be on the other side.

Perfect Moment Monday: Remembering

Lori always puts a caption at the beginning of her Perfect Moment Monday post:

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one.

A couple of nights ago I was reading a story to LB to help her fall asleep.  I was exhausted as none of us had slept well the night before due to the common cold.  I knew it wasn't going to be a quick evening read because LB had taken a late, long nap.  I cuddled up next to her in her big-girl-bed and we sat up knowing that asking her to lie down would only fuel her fight to stay awake.  Half way through the first book with a mental song of "I am so tired.  I just want to go to sleep." looping through my head, I remembered.  I remembered that the perfect moment is now.  I remembered that this is what I longed for and that even if we read together at night until she was out of college, it will eventually come to an end.

I gave her a side hug and embraced this very special moment.  We finished the Dr. Seuss Sleep Book and we were half way though "Good Night Emily" before she decided she preferred to lay down.  It still took awhile to for her to fall asleep, but it was enjoyed by all.

I am also remembering another very special time.  Today, 3 years ago, we retrieved the eggs that brought us LB and LBII (goodness, I need better names . . . any suggestions?).  As Belinda said recently, "It was the summer our lives were entwined."  It was indeed.  In some ways, our lives will always be entwined even if we don't see each other as much anymore.

Perfect Moment Monday: Bike Ride

How has so much time gone by since I posted last?   Partly because my employer has cracked down on non-work related internet time.  Not that I blog at work, of course.

In a nutshell:  Brad and I got to go for over an hour long bike ride together.  Sans kids.  It was the first ride I have taken without towing - or Brad towing if we are together - since LB was born - over 2 years.  I used to ride at least 3 days / week between April and September.  Gosh, I have missed it.  It just isn't the same when you have to worry about the well being of a munchkin or two behind you.  The ride was great and it was also wonderful to feel like a couple again. 

We rode along a local bike trail along a river that I used to take to work.  I used to watch as the summer season unfolded and ended.  The river would rise and subside again.  The trees would be bare, then bud, then in full leaf, and finally turn color.  The wildflowers would bloom and die.  The trail would start off pretty empty, then fill with people biking and wading in the river, then disappear again as the morning became to chilly. 

Thinking about the seasons coming and going and how our lives have unfolded from marriage through ttc to parenting too also made me contemplative of how time goes - moving so slowly while TTC and suddenly all too quickly.  It also made me appreciate the moment I was experience, knowing it would end too soon.
 
Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between

Perfect Moment Monday: Sunday Afternoon

Douglass Adams describes Sunday afternoons as 'the long dark tea-time of the soul'. The weekend is all but over and Monday morning is looming large.  If I recall correctly, he even has one of his characters give up immortality because of those Sunday afternoons were too much.  Or was it to have fresh linen every night?

The point is that we are no exception to feeling 'the blues' on a late Sunday afternoon.  I think this is where 'living in the moment' can be so important.  There is nothing positive to add to a Sunday by dwelling on the coming Monday so yesterday in order to shake those blues we decided to throw the kids in the cart and go for a walk.

Well, that was the plan.  LB wanted to walk so Daddy pushed the cart with the infant I could have carried while we strolled down the road with the sun at our backs. We waved at our shadows and watched them disappear and re-appear as we walked under trees.  To our unending delight, LB would shout "Oh, there I am!" when her shadow would re-appear.

We ended up walking to the nearby baker where we earned our parents-of-the-year award by sharing our chocolate cake and iced tea with L B (Could that be why she didn't fall asleep until over an hour after her normal bedtime?).  LBII got held and passed around to the delight of the baristas who loved to watch LBII's total-body-smile. 

After too short of a stay we headed back home.  LBII got a little fussy so I put her in a sling for the rest of the trim and LB took turns with Brad reading her book aloud (she has parts memorized).  We all took turns repeating the phrase "I love summer!"  Well, LBII didn't say it aloud, but I am sure she was thinking it.

We forgot all about Monday morning and had a perfectly delightful time.

For other Perfect Moments, visit Lori's blog.

Random Musings

Brad has been out of town the last couple of nights and perhaps that is why I have been lying awake wondering about things I have and will have no answer to.  I hope that is it because he will be home tonight and I can stop trying to find answers in tea leaves.

• My neighbor across the street pulled his own tooth for lack of health care / money and he listens to right wing radio that is typically against universal health care.
• I am sad that all three of my births ended up in a hospital yet I know of people who were never able to carry a baby to term . . . I should be grateful not sad.
• What is the point of a life?  In the end we just die.  Hopefully enjoy it a bit along the way . . . which can lead me to think that I wish I had a bigger house or lived in the country or someplace warmer.  Then I remember my friends in West Africa who have so few options in where they live or what they do.  They call the rainy season (the current season) the starving season since the old crop is running out and the new crop isn't in yet.
• If everyone in the world lived as well as I did we would have very serious resource issues.
• What are nano particles and genetically modified foods and wi-fi and cell towers going to do to our bodies / environment.  Perhaps the answer is "nothing much"
• We need to have our house mitigated for radon.  I think.
• Why do top movie stars make millions and top scientists make in the hundred's of thousands?
• A homeless man got kicked out of a bakery I was at while he was eating a 7-11 hotdog.  I was reading about Chelsea Clinton's 3 million dollar wedding.
• I have decided Sting's song Shape of My Heart is perfect for IVF . . . at least the first part: 
  
  

  He deals the cards as a meditation
  And those he plays never suspect
  He doesn't play for the money he wins
  He doesn't play for respect
  He deals the cards to find the answers
  The sacred geometry of chance
  The hidden law of a probable outcome
  The numbers lead a dance

• Rewarding times and happy times can be different but are both important.  When you look back on events in life with fondness, are they more likely to be rewarding or happy?  
• The odds of conceiving our first child the way we did were extremely low - virtually impossible. But we did and then he died.  How does that make sense?
• 90% of us have had our real income go down in the last 40 years.  The top 1% income bracket has seen their income triple. Why don't the 90% of us unite and do something about it?

Life.  Human life.  I just don't get it.

PTSD, Vanity And Miscelaney

Somewhere in a post before the birth of LB back in June of 2008, I posted about being afraid I wouldn't be able to take pride in our DE child(ren).  Given my belief that we are mostly who we are programmed to be, I thought I might feel a bit removed when someone compliments my child(ren).  For the most part, that has turned out not to be true.  I still feel a bit odd when someone makes a comment like, "You make beautiful children."  My mental answer is, "Uh, that's not really me, but thanks anyway."  Usually, however, I just glow with pride. 

Maybe I am vain, but I guess I do take some credit for who they are.  Or maybe I just enjoy seeing other people appreciate and/or enjoy what I appreciate and enjoy so much.  I still think the kids are who they are and while I hope to be an influential guide, in the end I am just a guide.  The good thing is that seems to be more than enough.  I may have felt differently had they been of my genes as well but I don't believe that to be the case.  

It is on my mind today because I took the girls to the clinic where they were conceived to drop off brochures*.  It was fun showing them off.  LB even did her imitation of By.once's Sin.gle Ladies (well, the first couple of lines and if you didn't know what to look / listen for you would never know; but I love it).  While I really enjoyed seeing a couple of the people who helped bring about these two little loves of my life, going back to the clinic triggered a strong negative reaction.  I hoped I was sufficiently over it by now, but as I turned up the hill that heads to the clinic, my heart started racing and my palms got sweaty.  Once I was inside and committed and wasn't waiting for a blood draw and u/s, I relaxed a bit; but several hours later I am still feeling the effects.  (Or maybe it is the mocha I had for breakfast.  Don't "tsk tsk" me.  Brad is leaving for 2 days and LBII was up a lot last night.  I needed it.)

I wonder when these things will get easier.  At least I only stop by the clinic a few times a year to drop off brochures and I could always mail them in.  I would say the bigger issues are things like going to the park.  Am I the only one who goes to the park early to avoid the fertiles?   LB loves to see other kids so there is the tension between wanting to flee when fertiles show up for my sake and wanting to stay for LB's.  It never seems to fail - especially on the days I am doing well - I will overhear some parent being a complete a$$ to his/her child or talking on a cell phone the entire time or just plain producing ugly children.  No, I am not very charitable to the more fertile of our society although I make exceptions for the people I know personally.

I am sure I have said it before . . . "I'm not bitter, I am consumed with hate."  I am kidding.  Mostly.

In other news, I hurt my back the other day lunging for LBII who was about to do a face plant onto the patio.  I have never been in so much pain.  I ended up calling a babysitter to watch the girls while Brad took me to the ER for some meds.  I won't tell you how I almost made the trip in an ambulance because I couldn't figure out how to get off the floor. 

I made sure I got meds that were safe(ish) with breastfeeding, but I was so loopy afterwords I was glad Brad picked up a bottle and formula so I could sleep through the night.  As fate would have it, by the time I got back home and in bed I was wide awake again.  I swear, if the pain was an 8 when I went in, it was still a 7 with the pain meds and muscle relaxant.  Fortunately, 8 days, one deep tissue massage and two cranial-sacral massages later and I am 80% better.  I only took the meds for a day, but I am keeping the rest in case it happens again.  I am also going to start working on my core strength a little more diligently.

To end on a happy note, LB has started singing.  Can I say how much I enjoy belting out "Let's Go Fly A Kite" from Mary Poppins with our little one?  Good times.

*Local PSA:  I host a peer to peer infertility support group.  If you are in the area - Spokane, Eastern Washington, Northern Idaho - and are interested please email me at myinfertilityadventure@gmail.com.  We have a pretty active group right now and meet once a month in the evening and lately once a month during a week day.  If you are in infertility hell and don't want to talk with people who are currently parenting - I understand and will do my best to get you together with one or more of our ladies currently trying to conceive / adopt their first child.

Perfect Moment Monday: Water

I have decided that one of the reasons I am not blogging as much lately is that I am too tired to string more that a few words together at a time.  How tired?  Sufficiently tired that yesterday morning - after 9 hours in bed - I was able to fall back asleep 4 of the 5 times I was woken up between 6 am and 7 am. 

I'm not complaining. Well, I am, but it is still worth it.

I want to follow up on that article in the previous post.  I'm not getting around to it so to put it simply and bluntly:

• I appreciated the comments.  Thank you.
• I agree with the comments - parenthood is rewarding, I don't regret having kids and I don't take enough time to myself (RJ - I mentally went on that solo bike ride with you)
• Parenthood does well in studies that measure rewarding vs pleasurable activities.  That's great and all, but why shouldn't it be happier moment to moment too?
• I wonder how infertile parents would compare to fertile ones.  I suspect we would would score better on all counts.
• I think more time to myself is key.
• I think lack of sleep is a big contributor to my feelings of sadness.
• I think I am grieving the loss again of my easy-to-conceive-genetic-child-born-gently-at-home.  Or I'm just tired and this is something to pin "the blues" on.
• After trying to notice the times I am happily parenting and not-so-happily parenting I have decided that the good times beat out the not-so-good times by around 10 to 1.
• Which brings me to this weeks Perfect Moment Monday.

I was watering the plants around the patio when LB asked to take over.  I gave her the hose and for the next 30 minutes sat on the step while she flooded my herb garden, watered the patio, herself, the cat (well, tried), the firepit and a bench.  As she dragged the house around she would occasionally drag it right over a plant or two.

Sitting on that step in the warm summer air and watching my two year old get soaked from head to toe while potentially doing damage to the plants I worked so hard to plant and cultivate . . . well, it was wonderful.  I thought, "This is what I imagined and longed for for all of those years - moments like this."  I makes you remember how something so simple as water coming out of a hose can be so much fun.

Food For Thought

The article All Joy and No Fun is, I suspect, going to be making the rounds and talked about a lot in the IF world.  It explores the reasons why parents tend to be less happy than non-parents.

It is something I was aware of before LB was conceived.  I read the book Stumbling On Happiness (mentioned in the article), and at that time I came away with the theory that studies may be measuring happiness in a way that misses the happiness gained from parenting.  If I recall correctly, an example was:  Ask a non-parent, on a scale of 1-5, how happy she is at random points of the day and she might score a bunch of 3's and 4's.  Then ask a parent who is washing diapers, helping kids to school, etc and she might score a bunch of 1's but more 5's.  That is, parents may spend more time being less happy, but have moments of greater happiness and since we tend to remember the happy times more than the sad that would also explain why people's perception is that they are more happy with kids than without them.

I vowed to enjoy the 'chores' as much as possible and thought that I would have greater appreciation for those time given the time and longing I spent trying to become a parent.  I think I have done a pretty good job of that. 

And yet, as much as I hate to admit this to the infertility community, I believe I am less happy now than I was prior to trying to conceive.  I am, hands down, happier than I was while unsuccessfully trying to have a baby, especially after the birth / death of our son.

I have sometimes even thought that I would, if possible, go back in time to the Kami before TTC and tell her to forget the whole thing.  The 4 years between Ernest's death and LB's birth were horrible in so many ways.  I have changed for the worse as well as for the better, but I don't know that the net effect was positive on me or my marriage.  I wouldn't want to un-know LB or LBII and I would need a solution to the innate desire to have kids as well, so even if time travel were possible, it is more complicated than just choosing a different path; but I hope it illustrates my meaning.

The article makes some good points and also highlights a couple of things I am guilty of - not leaving enough time to myself and feeling guilty that I am not giving more time to the kids.  I think infertility adds to the guilt.  The article talks about parents feeling the need to sculpt their children - which can feel like work, but I also feel guilty because it took so long to get here and I need to make the most of every moment.

While I am typing this blog I am feeling the guilt.  I ought to be playing with LB and smiling at LBII.  They are growing up so fast and I am missing out on that at this moment.  It's sort of like waiting years to go the concert of your dreams.  You have front row seats and you are taking it all in knowing you may never do this again.  Then you have to go to the bathroom.  How can you leave the concert to waste time on that?!  But you have to, so you go, but you think about all you are missing out in the meantime.  Having kids, for me, is like being in that state 24 x 7.

In my on going effort to increase the happiness in my life, I am taking the points raised in the article to heart.  I know there needs to be a re-balancing of my time, but I don't know what that means yet.  Do I have a sitter come more often?  Do I let go of some of the guilt / responsibility I feel?  Other options I haven't thought of?  More importantly, perhaps, can I let go of the guilt and re-balance my time?

One more comment about how children has impacted our marriage.  Shortly before our son was conceived, a friend commented, "Geeze, you guys are like newlyweds!"  I smiled inwardly and thought how lucky we were to love each other so much.  By this point, we had been married for 4 years and together for 9.  Now I believe we acted like newlyweds because we had yet to have children.  I think we will recapture those feelings and habits, but I'm just not sure how or when. I don't want until the kids go off to college. 

What are your thoughts?  Do you find you are less happy if you have kids?  Are you less happy than you imagined you would be? Do you think these stats apply to you?  Do you think you will / are the exception to the rule?  What would you change if you could?  How do you think you are / will be different than the people in these studies?

Detox

In my on going effort to be happier I have decided I need to do 3 things:  Exercise at least 30 minutes each day (shown in one study to be as effective as prozac ), eat less junk food and get more sleep.  I am not sure more sleep is attainable at this point so I have focused on the first two.

I started the exercise program about a week and a half ago and so far that is going pretty well.  It isn't too lofty a goal - I am not focusing on losing the baby fat (although that would be nice) or getting in great shape (also nice) - just looking for a mood boost.  Some days it is only a 30 minute walk, but on other days I am getting in a 45 minute bike ride.

I think it was helping, but it clearly wasn't doing enough. I decided to take the next step and cut back on the junk food.  I decided to get through just one day.  I couldn't face longer than that without ingesting some of the good stuff.

Brad joined me and yesterday was the day.  One day sans coffee, chocolate, ice cream, cookies, etc.  I would have told you I don't have a large quantity of these things, but there is some every day.  I might have a 12 oz double iced mocha (mmmm . . . mocha . . . ) in the morning and a 1/2 slice of chocolate mousse cake (from a local bakery - heaven!) in the evening. Perhaps a handful of chocolate chips to get me through the afternoon.  Chronic sleep deprivation has left me going for the next best thing: sugar.

When Brad and I compared notes last night, it turns out we were both feeling very anxious all day.  I went for a 20 minute bike ride to see my sister's soccer game and was so worried about falling and not being able to get my feet disconnected from the clipless pedals or that a car would not see us (I was towing the girls*) that I almost felt that I didn't have it in me to ride home.  I was ready to call my OB to see if maybe my hormones were really messed up. I was imagining the rest of my life being changed by panic attacks.

Nope.  Just withdrawal. It certainly confirms that I may be consuming a few too many empty calories.  With that realization, I am going junk food free today too.  I make no promises about tomorrow.  My long term goal is to reduce the need / consumption of the best stuff on earth junk food but I have no illusions that I would eliminate it all together.

Brad, on the other hand, decided to join his coworkers as they celebrate Mocha Thursday.  His text message to me this morning: "I am but a bag of chemicals.  With the right additives - I run as smooth as a top."

* "the girls"  Wow.  I still can't believe I get to say that. 

One Year Ago

This time last year I was waiting for the call to find out if our one frozen embryo would survive the thaw (we were given a 50% chance) and we would have something to transfer.  Amazingly, we did.  I remember taking the phone call in the kitchen.  Nice Nurse called with the good news and I shouted with glee.  Goodness knows I had been on the wrong side of good odds before.  Amazing that the slow-growing embryo not only thawed (thank you, Uncle Jimmy - the embryologist) but stuck around and gave LB a little sister.  Once again, I am struck by how lucky we are in so many ways.

Some stats:

LBII was born exactly 9 months after transfer (June 26th to March 26th).

LB was born exactly 9 months  after their conception. (Sept 20th to June 20th)

They were both born on a Friday

No, not magic - just coincidence but it is fun to notice.

Oh, and I missed it, but on June 10th was my third blogoversary.  I started blogging about the time we made the decision to move to donor eggs.  I thought I was the only one who had a mutually genetic baby die only to never have another one.  I soon found out that I was not alone.  Thanks to all the ladies out there in the blogosphere for your support along the way.

Do You Believe In Magic?

I recently came across a post about a message in a fortune cookie and how the writer hoped it was a good omen.  I suddenly felt saddened.  It was a reaction I found a bit surprising until I realized I was sad because I no longer believe in magic. It is like learning that there is no Santa Clause.  That the magic you thought was real was only just pretend.

If you had asked me earlier in our journey, I would have told you that I was not superstitious.  I might have admitted to being somewhat spiritual, but not religious.  If you asked me out right if there was a god, I would have told you, "I don't know, but I hope so."  I would have told you that I did not believe in magic.

But I did.

There was the time before our first or second IVF when Brad and I both got fortune cookie fortunes that seemed to predict a successful cycle.  There was the time when I biked to work shortly after an IUI when two geese - perched higher up on a rock than I had ever seen them - took flight just as I passed them and flew directly overhead.  There was the time 'the church ladies' (my affectionate term for the ladies I dance with) prayed over me.  There were the too-numerous-to-count times I meditated and visualized a baby coming into our lives and I felt it.  I believed there was an energy in the universe I could tap into.

I wanted and needed to believe that I had some control.  That maybe there was a being or 'energy' out there that had more power than I did.

Here I will ask my readers to please not take offense if you do believe in they type of magic I am referring to.  It is a wonderful thing and despite my strong views, I recognize I may still be wrong.  Even if I am right, believing in a magic that doesn't exist is probably worth it.

I know that I said that I became an atheist the day I realized Ernest was going to die, but in reality I let go of the hope in a god or power beyond me or magic much more slowly.  In retrospect, on that day I let go of a notion that there was God (with a capital G) who interfered - who took notice and answered prayers.  I had decided that, while there may still be some kind of spiritual energy, there was no direct interference.  Plus I wanted to believe there was life after death  - that I would see Ernest again.

As our infertility struggles wore on, I slowly let go of that belief as well.  I came to understand that the universe is wholly natural.  Life is as it is - just random chaos. There are times when I wish I could go back to believing in magic, but just as most of us never again believe in Santa Claus, I doubt there will be a time I can convince myself that there are other kinds of magic.

Now I read posts that talk about faith or spirituality and I don't know what to say, so I stay silent.  It's not that I don't appreciate the alternative viewpoint, but I can't really agree and disagreeing would be less than appreciated.  I guess I am saying, "It's not you, it's me."

The part of me that is still angry wants to add that I have witnessed miracles.  You know, a series of unlucky events that lead to a surprising outcome.  I just don't limit it to happy outcomes.  Why praise a god when it works out and not blame him/her when it doesn't? 

We conceived Ernest with less than 400,000 post wash motile sperm on an unmedicated cycle.  Most RE's won't even do an IUI with less than 10 times that amount and those cycles are usually medicated.  What were the odds?  One in a million?  One in ten million?  Then he died of an extremely rare non-inherited (based on the geneticist best guess) birth defect.  His chromosomes were normal (well, obviously not really normal but they looked good and there was the right amount of them. There must have been something wrong with the genes or how they were expressed).  What were the odds of that?  A miracle conception and a miracle death.

No, I'm not over it.  Yes, I am still trying to be happier. 

Two Years

Two years ago today I was living the drama of LB's birth. It is amazing how slowly two years of trying to conceive lasts compared to two years on 'the other side'.  She is growing so fast which is fun and exciting and challenging and all the things that we hoped for.

Right now we are especially enjoying her new verbal skills.  On my second day back to work, she crawled into the chair behind me as I was at my computer and said "Move over please.  It's my turn."  When I was trying to calm her with a saying I have used in the past that made her laugh ("all is well!"), I got to "all" and she said, "No, no, no, don't say that!"  I hope calling me by my first name is a phase . . . "Hey Kami, can you come in here?  Play toys me?"

Just the same, it is delightful to hear what is on her mind.  We are also spending far too much time together watching videos. I always promised myself that I would never use the tv as a babysitter.  While it is technically a computer and the content is 99% music videos (everything from Sting to Veggie Tales), I still feel a bit guilty.  I also go to bed with catchy kids songs stuck in my head.  Case in point below.  If you aren't singing it to yourself the first time, try watching it again.

Happy Birthday LB!  Thanks for making me a mom (again)!

Just Another Quick Update

There was a helicopter crash two houses behind mine two weeks ago.  I watched it drop out of the sky and was sure the pilot died. He did.  It was very sad and later I learned that a friend of mine was good friends with the pilot.  As they say, "It's a small world."

The reason I am blogging about it was that the evening news interviewed me like they do when something interesting happens in a neighborhood.  I believe they picked me because they saw I had two small children (we were just back from a walk and sitting on the porch).  I kept thinking of PJ's pieces 'as a mother' where she takes news articles and changes 'as a mother' to 'as an infertile'.  As if I had a more important perspective because (gasp!) my kids could have been killed!  Despite how they portrayed me, I am not worried about another such accident.  And when they asked me if I had something else to add, I did not say what I was thinking, "I know I look fertile, but I am not and having kids does not make me an authority on either helicopter crashes or the mood of the neighborhood."

In news closer to home, I am back to work in my part-time-from-home role.  It was a tough first day because I always had one of the kids in my lap.  LB is having a hard time readjusting and we are all adjusting to having two kids instead of one.  By the end of my 4 hour day, I was so sad I felt like crying.  I couldn't even tell you why.  It really wasn't that hard and normally I would get frustrated not sad while trying to juggle a kid and work. It makes me wonder where that feeling was coming from. Well, we shall figure it all out in time.

Despite the transition to work, things are going well here. I am still very happy and relieved to be done trying to conceive.  Yesterday I (virtually) sat with Sarah as she waited for her beta.  I believe it was her 7th IVF but the first with donor gametes (DS/DE).  It was one of those cycles that just has to work, but yet you know it might not (I guess they are all that was to some degree).  It brought back how awful that space it.  Such hope and fear and dread and hope and anxiety and hope and you can't really know what it is like unless you have been there. Thankfully and wonderfully, she got a great first beta.

Finally a picture Leah snapped on the way back from from riding the carousel.  The blue fabric over my arm is the baby sling I should have been using.