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.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
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.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, May 30, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
"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.
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.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Infertility
This isn't the kind of story you can pick up in the middle and the full length of it is just too long.
So. I'll try to be brief.
For a long time, we stayed quiet about it. I think, for me, it was for fear of how others may feel and, in some way, I wanted to manage their response.
(Reference: Ill-advised, ranting email I sent to closest friends, who love me most, telling them how to handle me. Sigh.)
This topic is like a spot on my heart, that people and life, inadvertently and blamelessly, thump over and over again. Most of the time, I flex, take my hit and move on, but there are times when I'm tired and beaten. Each thump is entirely tolerable on it's own, but it bruises and tears and wounds after a while. Then I isolate, heal and reemerge to take another lickin'. And there are moments, when we are in the process, and the hope that THIS time it worked, keeps you very, very strong...until it doesn't.
Tim and I have completed 3 IUIs, which is a procedure meant to get me pregnant.
All three have failed. I discovered the last one failed today.
There have been countless shots, blood tests, sonograms, pills, acupuncture appointments, hours away from work, and time spent hoping. One test caused me to pass out from pain, but at least the results showed no problems.
In this process, I've learned that I'm not alone. There are many women who struggle with this issue. Many who achieve what they want via a means that no one ever hopes for. The question at the moment is when is enough enough? How far are we willing to go? And at this moment, I don't know.
As a person who had no interest in children at one point, who thought it would all be easy once I did and who shook my head wondering why it was SO important for women in my position to conceive a child, I understand how hard it is for others to understand where we're coming from or what we're dealing with. That's okay. I hope you never have to understand.
I just decided I didn't want to be quiet about it anymore. I don't want to talk about it all the time, but I'm over feeling like there is something intrinsically wrong with me or us. This is just our battle at the moment and since my reading audience is small and few, I figured if you cared enough to read, you may also care about what we're going through.
I also wanted to write this, just in case, God forbid you or your partner find yourself in the same position. The reason I was willing to get help in the first place was because someone was open enough to tell me what she had been through.
We will regroup and decide what we will do next summer and hopefully learn more about why things aren't currently working. In the meantime, I just thought it would be nice not to keep it a secret anymore.
Thanks for reading.
Much Love and Merry Christmas,
Elizabeth
So. I'll try to be brief.
For a long time, we stayed quiet about it. I think, for me, it was for fear of how others may feel and, in some way, I wanted to manage their response.
(Reference: Ill-advised, ranting email I sent to closest friends, who love me most, telling them how to handle me. Sigh.)
This topic is like a spot on my heart, that people and life, inadvertently and blamelessly, thump over and over again. Most of the time, I flex, take my hit and move on, but there are times when I'm tired and beaten. Each thump is entirely tolerable on it's own, but it bruises and tears and wounds after a while. Then I isolate, heal and reemerge to take another lickin'. And there are moments, when we are in the process, and the hope that THIS time it worked, keeps you very, very strong...until it doesn't.
Tim and I have completed 3 IUIs, which is a procedure meant to get me pregnant.
All three have failed. I discovered the last one failed today.
There have been countless shots, blood tests, sonograms, pills, acupuncture appointments, hours away from work, and time spent hoping. One test caused me to pass out from pain, but at least the results showed no problems.
In this process, I've learned that I'm not alone. There are many women who struggle with this issue. Many who achieve what they want via a means that no one ever hopes for. The question at the moment is when is enough enough? How far are we willing to go? And at this moment, I don't know.
As a person who had no interest in children at one point, who thought it would all be easy once I did and who shook my head wondering why it was SO important for women in my position to conceive a child, I understand how hard it is for others to understand where we're coming from or what we're dealing with. That's okay. I hope you never have to understand.
I just decided I didn't want to be quiet about it anymore. I don't want to talk about it all the time, but I'm over feeling like there is something intrinsically wrong with me or us. This is just our battle at the moment and since my reading audience is small and few, I figured if you cared enough to read, you may also care about what we're going through.
I also wanted to write this, just in case, God forbid you or your partner find yourself in the same position. The reason I was willing to get help in the first place was because someone was open enough to tell me what she had been through.
We will regroup and decide what we will do next summer and hopefully learn more about why things aren't currently working. In the meantime, I just thought it would be nice not to keep it a secret anymore.
Thanks for reading.
Much Love and Merry Christmas,
Elizabeth
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