Driven to Distraction

They say that there are some babies who never really crawl, they just go from sitting to walking one day. That's not a good thing. They found that these children, as they grow older, tend to not fight battles they can't win. They grow frustrated with obstacles that don't come fairly easily to them. They sometimes lack frustration tolerance. They excel but pick their battles.

I didn't crawl much.

I think this is part of the reason I was so hesitant to start infertility treatment. If it was a matter of working hard to get it, I could sign on for that but I wanted to know steps 1,2 and 3 would lead me to my goal. Let me sit back, figure it out, and then I would walk into it. That's not how it works. When you first go to a consult at an infertility doctor's office you don't know what your journey will be. You don't know if you're one of the easy ones who gets pregnant after a first and simple try or if you will be the woman who needs 3 costly cycles of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) or if, no matter what you try, you will not carry your own child, or, perhaps my greatest fear, you will miscarry, maybe even more than once.

So, I hesitated, for fear that I would become one of the women who was fighting the infertility battle for years.

Because I know myself. I know that if I throw myself in, I am ALL IN.

Also, at some point along the way, I decided that I wouldn't make choices based on fear. I would use fear as a warning if necessary but that it would not be the ultimate reason I did or did not do something. And so we moved forward. A life worth living requires courage.

But this is what I was afraid of.

To allow just one dream to consume you is dangerous, risky. Your perspective is lost.

And, if I'm honest, all I am doing is waiting until I can be pregnant. I AM READY to have a baby, children, a family of my own, and, until that point, everything else is simply meaningless, white noise. I know, in reality, that it is not, but I can't feel it.

I know the work I do is important. I know I will miss my freedom. I know I will hate morning sickness. I know I will be awful without sleep. I know I should be enjoying myself. I know I should be grateful.

But, I can't.

I'm tried desperately to keep myself occupied, entertained, distracted, happy, appreciative so that I would not feel the emptiness in everything else in the time between now and when I could have a baby.

But, I just can't.

I need the next chapter to begin.

The distractions DO work for a little bit. I'm not pretending to be anything I'm not when out with friends or family. The relief just doesn't last long.

And then I get afraid that I have placed WAY TOO MUCH on this child I hope to have. And what a terrifying idea that is, that this little bundle of joy will be responsible for lifting me from my depression and solve all of my problems. Cause that's how it works right? No, I know that is fucking sick.

But, here's the thing. I was not a depressed person who needed something to fill a void and decided it was a child. I was pretty content until I allowed myself to be honest about my hopes for a family, until we threw ourselves into this fight we didn't know we would win. I knew the risk of opening myself up to this, to investing my thoughts, energy, time, and health, to fully look my desire in the face and accept I can't do this on my own, that this isn't going to work naturally for us. I knew this could make me crazy.

And it has.

This desire comes from such a deep and primal place. I can't truly compare it to anything else.

And I wonder if I have blown it all out of proportion.

But then I see families together. I see mothers being mothers and think, "No. If you're going to lose your mind, this is a good reason to do it."

So forget losing 10 more pounds or learning to sew or making a new recipe. I'll do it if the mood strikes. I've been trying to care about other things but I just don't.

This child I hope to have is my marathon and, my God, will you see tears if I make it to the finish line.

This is it.

So, it appears as though all I needed was what I felt like I needed. I needed company, good conversation, Leaves of Grass by Whitman, time with my husband, some lazy, restful days, amazing food and apparently a few white Christmas lights in my living room.

This, is what life is made of. When I find myself feeling restless, I've tried to tell myself, over and over, "This is it. This is your life." If I am always looking ahead, just waiting, I will miss this.

When I have a child I will trade this restlessness for lack of rest. So. This is it. For now. And it has to be enough because this is all there is.

American Beauty
At the end of a man's life, he narrarates:

"I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined my street... Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday."

Spoiler Alert. If you haven't seen this movie, don't watch the clip:

Waiting for my real life to begin

My enthusiasm about how I could spend my time between now and IVF has dwindled and I find myself restless, bored, lonely and borderline depressed.

Tim is working unbelievable hours (5:30am to 9:30pm) almost daily and then Saturday mornings. (Clearly, his plight is worse than mine, but this is MY blog.)

One of my closest friends who I also work with has been out on medical leave for the past 6 weeks or more. (Also, her situation sucks 10 times worse than mine, but, again MY blog.)

Work has been PAINFULLY slow. Few clients and no groups, which I usually do weekly, for the past month.

As for friends, I have them (and I will stop using this as an excuse soon enough) but my closest friends don't live here anymore. I work with 2 people and I'm not a part of anything outside of work, so there's something of a deficit in opportunities to meet new people. Not to mention, my plan to this point has been making friends with extroverts and then befriending their friends, meaning I never have to do much of the initiation. Being the one who does the reaching out? Yea. Not my forte. And guess who moved out of state? The best extroverts a gal could have.

And, as time goes on, I feel like my brain is getting slower and I'm becoming socially retarded. It's like the loneliness and isolation makes me blurt out my internal monologue whenever someone is present to listen. I've started purging my house because it's clean and so now I guess it must become simplified too, just in case tomorrow is the day we spontaneously decide to pack up and move to Colorado or something.

Plain and simple. I'm losing it. And, if I'm honest, this boredom, this quiet is deafening in its screams about how no 30-something-year-old woman should be bored. Her life should be exhausting between a husband, job and kids. The silence only serves as a reminder of what I am lacking: a husband with only one full time job, children who wear me into the ground and close friends nearby for game nights, laughter, new perspectives and wardrobe vetoes (cause left to my own devices...).

And I find myself haunted by the words of Betty on Mad Men in a mean mother moment to her daughter, "Only boring people are bored." And then, who would want to be friends with a boring person? NO ONE! And so the slippery slope to my demise begins.

I imagine complaining about how I have SO MUCH free time on my hands may feel like the equivalent of 'I have more money than I know what to do with' or 'My boobs are so big that people simply objectify me'. I have tried and continue to try to find meaning in this quiet, boring time, but just can't. Life is just feeling a bit empty at the moment.

Trust me, self-pity and complaining don't come easy to me. I have the perspective to know how lucky I am, in so many ways. But, today, my pity party features me, so you can send presents to my home or office address.

I'm off to go watch J. Edgar... with my mother... on a Friday night. (See?!)

Love you all.

E

Bounced back and got a plan...

So, my last entry followed the disappointment of our 4th failed IUI. We've bounced back pretty well and have moved on to the next plan which is In Vitro Fertilization. We're going to wait until next year in order to save up some of the money that is required (holy crap!) and a slower work load where taking time off is easier.

In the meantime, I am attempting to get even healthier and enjoy what I hope is the last phase of our childless marriage. That sounds dark, but I meant all of the good things I will leave behind, like sleeping in and having uninterrupted time and having warm feelings toward Tim because a child has not yet made everything harder.

I'm feeling really optimistic about IVF, and realizing that what was once the controversial "test tube baby" headline has become much more commonplace for couples now. I'm not saying it will be easy (it won't), but if/when it works, I have a feeling all of this frustration and disappointment will get washed away should it give me a healthy pregnancy.

And with this little bit of time, maybe I'll lose 10 more pounds, run a 5k, pay off some debt, save some money up and continue enjoying work with clients who inspire me to be a better person.

It seems strange now that I was so sad pregnancy didn't "just happen" for us. I'm a planner so, in a strange way, this isn't so bad. And, clearly, I've found a lot to keep me busy until my pee on a stick makes a plus sign show up.

I took a look at those who "follow" this blog, and I can't imagine a better group of people.

I hope that you are doing extraordinarily well and to hear/see you soon.

IUI, FAIL!

Today we learned that our fourth IUI, or fertility treatment, didn't work.

In the grand scheme of things, I have this undercurrent of peace, which I am happy to find held on in the way I hoped it would.

Nonetheless, I have really been in mourning today. I can honestly say this experience lacks the intensity of my how I felt after my father's death, but its familiarity confirms it is definitely mourning.

The interesting thing about grief is that there are so few thoughts attached, at least the kind you can grab a hold of and study. I think ALL THE TIME. If I feel anything, I dissect it and evaluate it, but not today. I'm actually pretty bad at thinking today. Making decisions at the grocery store was like a game of "Would You Rather".

Well, ok. One exception. I wrote a poem in the post before this one which means I did "think" a little bit, but it just kicked in an hour ago. Prior to that, my mind has been mush.

I'm just sad and disappointed and my heart aches.

I think a large part of me felt that by working so hard on getting healthy over the past six months, I would have a much better chance of getting pregnant. Apparently not.

However, the six months of work on my overall health has helped me handle this failed attempt better. I didn't cry the 3 times before. I didn't tell anyone I was trying because I was afraid others' reactions would make me more vulnerable, and then I would have to feel everything I'm feeling now.

This time has been different, and although it appears as though I'm taking this round harder, I think I'm taking it in a more healthy way.

I will be sad for a bit, and then we will make a plan, but not a rushed plan. My life is still a good life, and we will take this on a step at a time.

Thanks for reading.

Much love, Friends.

Before I Formed You, I Knew You.

A blast of water was sent
Down your painted lips
And caught below
By tissues taped,
Dutifully changed
By a child much like you.

I have heard
There are cracks in the earth
And a floor of glass
Where we can stand
As if suspended
And be small together;
Although, I will be big enough.

There are many books
Preserving images
Of fascinating people
Waving
Clasping
Gesturing
With hands like yours
And your grandmother's
And mine.

There are lessons
Unnecessary to learn
Penance already paid.

Yet I simply cannot force you
To make the journey
From the wood floor
Where I brushed your plastic strands
Or the edge of a world wonder,

I cannot coerce you to exist
So that you may sleep against my chest
Or have my father's eyes,

Yet, before I formed you,
I knew you,

And our estrangement
Is often more than I can bear.

7 Years

To have and to hold,...



...from this day forward,...


...for better,...







...or worse,...





...for richer,...



...or poorer,...



...in sickness,...







...and in health,...






...as long as we both shall live.


I've been with Tim since I was 19-years-old. No one knows themselves at 19. However, we have been fortunate enough to grow up together instead of grow apart. He's my companion through this great and awful life, and I look forward to the rest of it with him.

What a lucky girl I am.

Back in January, shortly after watching my sister-in-law try on her wedding dress and rocking it, I saw myself in the mirrors that surrounded us. She looked amazing after months of hard work in the gym and changing her diet. She was happy after months of hard work in therapy. In contrast, I saw myself looking frumpy and throwing back wine in order to not show too much emotion during such a beautiful moment because, despite my profession, emotional vulnerability is not a strong point.

I was unhappy, to an extent I wouldn't become fully aware of, until I made a conscious effort to change, and I did.

I gave myself 6 months to get healthy, in all respects, to be "selfish", which I've come to find is really only self-care. At the end of that 6 months, my flex spending card would be replenished which could be thrown at fertility treatments and such. New cards came in the mail the other day which Tim held up triumphantly declaring, "The baby cards have come in!"

...And what an interesting emotional reaction I had.

This past week, I had a "staycation", an opportunity to not go to work and do what I wanted around the home. Money is a bit tight and we made the most of it. I didn't work towards anything, seeing this or that, accomplishing this or that. I bought sun dresses and tanned and went to movies and nice dinners and stayed out late. It was the pinnacle of allowing myself to just relax and do what I wanted and a sort of farewell to the past six months, before doctor's appointments and shots and whatever may become of my body.

The week began with a one-year birthday party for my best friend's little girl, and I found myself (and allowed myself) to be rather emotional about it. My friend had a terrifying pregnancy with the constant fear of losing the baby, and, even then, she was born so very small. As this sweet girl ate her first birthday cake, and I saw my friend smile as she watched, I was so extraordinarily happy for her. After everything she had been through, she deserved every second of that amazing moment. I also felt that I would likely feel the same way should I find myself in that position, so heart-rendingly grateful that I was given such a wonderful gift, that somehow, I had actually gotten to that point. Imagining myself in that moment brought tears to my eyes, but there was no jealousy, no hurt, just happy hope.

I also had several amazing women over to swim with their 12 amazing children. My friend and her baby also came over at one point as well. I watched them with their kids, but I saw it without the romanticized hue I typically place on it. These women wanted some of what I had, freedom to make decisions on a whim, to have adult conversations, to take a break without the responsibility of someone else hanging over their head.

I find myself in a place that lacks desperation. I want a child. I want a family of my own, but watching these amazing mothers that I know, I see how much of themselves they have to put on the back burner, daily, repeatedly. And I know not one of them would say it isn't worth it. I know it's worth it.

I still want a child of my own, but I am in a place where I am happy with what I've had for the past six months, with what I've had with Tim for the past 12 years. I'm aware of what a struggle life will become whenever we have a child, physically, financially, time-wise, help-wise, and I know it will be worth it.

But, until then, I find myself content for the moment I'm in.

I will be euphoric to be pregnant, to have a child.

In the meantime, I can enjoy the rich life I have now, with work that interests me and a growing circle of friends and time with my husband and freedom to continue finding myself. And, god forbid, that a child of my own is not in the cards for us, I've realized it will not be the end of the world. It will hurt like hell if it comes to that, but my life can still be full.

I cannot put into words what a gift that perspective is.

What a lucky girl I am.

All Things in Moderation

In my 30th year of life, I learned something about myself and life in general. I think my 20s were spent trying to live life to its fullest. Everything was so new, so much to do, so LET'S DO IT ALL! AND NOW!

I tend to be the type who is all or nothing, and, when I'm all in, it is balls to the wall.

I rarely stirred an ingredient into a recipe. (There are strange lumps in my food.)
I introduced myself to running by sprinting, every day, for half an hour. (Inexplicable ankle injury?)
I have a list of things to get done on a Saturday but forget to eat. (Literally almost pass out.)
I take on as many clients as a I can, driving to their homes several nights a week. (I'm oddly tired all the time and almost fell asleep during a session with a 4-year-old & missed out on some good times with friends.)
If one glass of wine/coffee is good, how great would 3 be?! (Bad mornings, sluggish days and a lot of weight gain or great mornings & awful afternoons, respectively. And surprisingly always thirsty?)
I need to diet, so I cut my calorie intake by 45%, all at once (Felt deprived and exhausted)
I just want a little sun on my pale, pale skin. (My golden bronze is more of a lobster red.)
I want to see Europe so we went to 8 different cities in 15 days. (Ok, I don't regret this one, but I'll never do it again.)

And these are only a few items on a very long list.

Starting in January, I decided it was time to change. I started dieting, too stringently at first. I started working out, too hard at first, but eventually, I found a balance.

I realized food tasted better when it was nourishing me and I didn't walk away with that uncomfortable stuffed feeling. I realized that, I do still enjoy a good glass of wine, but it really doesn't get any better after the tipsy feeling begins. It truly only gets worse. I realized that eggs are better when cooked on medium-high heat instead of the hottest temperature possible for quickness. I realized that to change your lifestyle into a more healthy one requires a month or two of pretty intense focus, but that you must let life back in, even if it means you can't stick to your regimen exactly as you would like. I realized that nights with friends should be a priority. Work is important but there is a limit to the quality you can provide, especially if you haven't first cared for yourself.

Interestingly enough, when I've consciously made these efforts at moderation, cultivating discipline and self-control, those moments of indulgence are guilt-free and so very sweet.

I've lost 20 pounds since January. In a way, I've put myself first and become more conscious of the decisions I make regarding my time, energy and health. It seemed so self-centered when I began, and I don't know if I would have done it if I didn't think it was important to helping me conceive and have a healthy pregnancy some day. So, really, it wasn't about me even to begin with, but now it is and I feel better than I have in a long, long time.

Birth Control and Prenatal Vitamins

My life is one big ironic mess.

I have PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome), which to this point, I've kind of not taken seriously.

But, it is serious. Women with PCOS are at greater risk for heart disease and diabetes. 6 out of 10 are overweight and many struggle significantly to lose weight, further increasing their risk.

I didn't really start putting on much weight until 2007 or 2008. That was about the time I went off birth control. For women with PCOS, birth control helps regulate the hormonal challenges of PCOS. It wasn't until I stopped taking it, that I learned I had it.

As I put on weight, I chalked it up to my eating habits and lack of inactivity. And, to be certain, the gallons of beer I've had over the past few years have not helped.

However, I have been working HARD for the past seven weeks to lose weight, and I have. In fact, they say that losing as much as 5% of your weight can greatly reduce the symptoms of PCOS. I have done that exactly, but my doctor has encouraged me to lose another 15 pounds.

Nonetheless, I can't help but feel like I am working excessively harder than most who are new to a diet and workout regimen. At one point, a doctor told me after a diagnostic test that I should eat somewhere between 1050 and 1175 calories a day in order to lose weight. Do you know how very little that is?

I workout extremely hard a minimum of 5 days a week. I do cardio as well as strength training and interval work. I have SIGNIFICANTLY cut down on alcohol intake.

I cannot help but think someone who had so drastically changed their lifestyle would have perhaps seen a much more dramatic weight loss in the first 6 weeks. To be sure, I feel better and my clothes feel better, but I am still wearing the same size.

I have gone back on birth control in the hopes of managing my hormonal issues and getting a boost in bringing my weight down. I am on prenatal vitamins because it is recommended to take them six months prior to conception (and it makes your hair shiny.) When you are working so hard towards pregnancy, taking that birth control pill each night really screws with your head, but I'm thinking long term goals here.

Despite the many undesirable symptoms of PCOS that I deal with everyday, I have been unwilling to think that the weight issue applied to me. I am beginning to realize that it may play a larger role than I cared to believe. It is disheartening to feel as though I am getting much less reward than those who work equally as hard at their fitness goals. However, despite the difficulty losing weight, I can say I'm not adding weight and can still reap the health benefits of exercise. (But a bikini body would be really nice.)

I am glad I have given myself a solid six months to take care of just me. My hope is that I will lose the weight the doctor requested, if not more, hopefully manage to get pregnant (although my PCOS and weight are only one factor effecting our infertility), and then continue to care for myself so that I do not suffer from diabetes or a heart attack at an early age.

As with any illness, you must adjust your life. It is possible that weight gain will always be very easy for me and weight loss quite difficult. I hope to continue making myself a bigger priority to fight that as best as I can. I hope to be a mother, but I also hope to be a healthy one.

"Elizabeth, you will get pregnant."

"Elizabeth, you will get pregnant. Don't give up."

This, THIS, is what my doctor says to me today. And she didn't say it because I looked tearfully into her eyes, asked in a pleading and desperate voice if I should throw in the towel. She spontaneously said this after explaining why there isn't any real problem or reason why things haven't worked just yet. That, in fact, of the obstacles we face, there are very clear ways to address them (which we have) and give us the same chances as any other couple. She said that even for a couple without our challenges, 3 failed attempts would not signify anything of concern. The stars must simply align.

Now, there are expensive and invasive procedures that she feels very confident would work and would be worth investing in if our marriage is on the rocks or the stress has become too much, essentially, if we're ready to get this over and done with. Or, we can continue to go the less expensive, less intense route another 2 or 3 times without feeling like we are unreasonably spinning our wheels. Nonetheless, "less expensive" is still a nice piece of change.

Regardless. We're giving ourselves some time to rebuild financially and hopefully physically and emotionally as well over the next 6 months. We have time to decide what we want to do.

But, today, it was nice to hear an unprovoked, assured (no fear of lawsuits due to false promises) admonition that we are fighting a fight we should win.

Happy 2011.