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.