gasp...she does exist!
here's where i've found my new blogging voice (hopefully...on the best laid plans of mice and moms...or something like that) : http://quiettingforcalmness.wordpress.com/
i don't think it has mommy-blog aspirations. i think it has unfolding and unraveling of my constant noisy brain aspirations so i can live calmer.
hopefully, it at least has frequent updating aspirations of which will not bore you to tears should you follow me over there.
1.11.2013
5.26.2012
Now what
Thank you everyone for your kind WTH kind of reactions to the story of e. b, and c. You all are the best for being appalled and hurt. And I appreciate it. A lot. Very few people IRL know how we ended up with triplets so it was nice to tell their story and to such a supportive audience.
The trip back to the house was a roller coaster. The days were mostly full of happiness about moving back and changing the house before we move in. The nights we full of tears about the past and anxiety about the present going so fast. DH didn't understand me completely but I didn't really understand me either. By the time we locked the door the last time before we left the house to our contractor though, I felt very sure that we were doing the right thing by moving back and changing the house. Yay for peace.
I think it's also come time to move on online. I need to stop looking back. Not forget. Just not dwell. The triplets are gone. My wonderful amazing newborn is growing up. Life is truly grand. And it's time for me to leave this blog, parred down to the essential informative posts, to the pages of yesterday and start fresh. I'll let you know the new address should you choose to come on over. I plan to keep my reader in list intact...I mean, I still gotta know how some of your stories end!
The trip back to the house was a roller coaster. The days were mostly full of happiness about moving back and changing the house before we move in. The nights we full of tears about the past and anxiety about the present going so fast. DH didn't understand me completely but I didn't really understand me either. By the time we locked the door the last time before we left the house to our contractor though, I felt very sure that we were doing the right thing by moving back and changing the house. Yay for peace.
I think it's also come time to move on online. I need to stop looking back. Not forget. Just not dwell. The triplets are gone. My wonderful amazing newborn is growing up. Life is truly grand. And it's time for me to leave this blog, parred down to the essential informative posts, to the pages of yesterday and start fresh. I'll let you know the new address should you choose to come on over. I plan to keep my reader in list intact...I mean, I still gotta know how some of your stories end!
4.24.2012
Don't ignore...the word no
I hadn't planned on doing an National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW) post because I've read so many good ones and really couldn't think of anything to add, until this exact moment when it hit me what I wouldn't ignore.
Important note: I said this before I got my happy ending, so it's not that that makes it easy for me to write this. It's the regret, the carnage that multiple treatments left behind when we wish we had said no so much sooner than we finally did.
Don't ignore the ability to say "no." No to further treatments. Not so much to ones that you are morally opposed to, if you have some, though that's important. Instead, though, I mean the ones that you are just too tired, to weary, to beaten to go through again. Those are the toughest to say no to in my opinion because of the pressure from the clinics, from reading blog success stories, from your own desires. But when you look around you and only see shambles of what's left of your life, your finances, your marriage and your sanity after the storm of IF has come through month after month, year after year...be strong and be brave one last time...but use that strength this time not to do it again, but instead, to say No. Enough. Done. It's time to change course and recoup what's left of you, your life and your relationships.
So, don't ignore that ability to say no...remember, "There is a difference between giving up and knowing when you have had enough." (unknown)
To learn more about the disease of infertility, visit Resolve's Infertility 101.
To learn more about NIAW, visit Resolve's informative page.
Important note: I said this before I got my happy ending, so it's not that that makes it easy for me to write this. It's the regret, the carnage that multiple treatments left behind when we wish we had said no so much sooner than we finally did.
Don't ignore the ability to say "no." No to further treatments. Not so much to ones that you are morally opposed to, if you have some, though that's important. Instead, though, I mean the ones that you are just too tired, to weary, to beaten to go through again. Those are the toughest to say no to in my opinion because of the pressure from the clinics, from reading blog success stories, from your own desires. But when you look around you and only see shambles of what's left of your life, your finances, your marriage and your sanity after the storm of IF has come through month after month, year after year...be strong and be brave one last time...but use that strength this time not to do it again, but instead, to say No. Enough. Done. It's time to change course and recoup what's left of you, your life and your relationships.
So, don't ignore that ability to say no...remember, "There is a difference between giving up and knowing when you have had enough." (unknown)
To learn more about the disease of infertility, visit Resolve's Infertility 101.
To learn more about NIAW, visit Resolve's informative page.
4.17.2012
the little voice and the clothes solution
This post may well make you think I need to be locked up...but at least it is giving me something else to focus on while my anxiety level reaches epic proportions as I wait for my procedure on Thursday .
Anyways, as Spud grows, he is naturally outgrowing clothes along the way. What do I do with these? And what about the few maternity clothes I bought (the borrowed ones returned already)? Currently, I have them all boxed up. But they...their mere presence in my home space...is bothering me.
In conjunction with this topic, over the past few weeks, I feel invaded by an unceasing desire for a larger family still. To have our triplets at the end still...just one at a time. And I hate having these feelings. I got one miracle. I don't dare ask for another because I surely didn't deserve the first. But having these clothes around makes me sad that the newborn days are at an end. I loved pregnancy. I loved the newborn weeks. I loved the chance to have both. And yes, I love the dreams of the days ahead, too.
But now it is time to shut the doors of pregnancy and newborn and embrace those days ahead.
But I have these darn clothes. (Yes, I could just get rid of them. But doing that without thinking just isn't that easy--What IF I need them? What IF I don't? And yes, I over-think everything.)
This is like how I had a few baby items stored away for the five years it took to get to the point of getting to use them. A nursery linens set, a onesie, a stuffed lion, and a board book. Always there. Under the bed, in the back of the closet, in a trunk...wherever. But I knew they were always there. Waiting for use. Which made their lack of use taunting at times.
Just as these clothes already feel. And will feel more and more as the babyhood ends months down the road and big boy days enter. Fun in their own way, but different because of how much I love the baby days.
So, in deciding what to do with these clothes, I did what any "logical" infertile (is this an infertile thing? maybe it's just a me thing?) would do. I asked the tiny voice.
What is this tiny voice you ask?
Well....enter my crazy self...early in my pregnancy, when I would get worried about Spud, I would ask, (silently, in my head...surely that cuts down on the level this crazy is), I would ask my growing Spud "Are you okay in there?" And I would feel like I "heard" (again, in my head) this little joyful boy voice answer, "Yes, mama, I'm good. Don't worry about me." And I would calm down. Mind you, this reassurance was based on nothing but some made up voice (and the crazy level goes back up...). But it southed my anxiety. And it was a little boy from very early on, long before we knew the gender.
So, anyways, I asked today (again, not out loud--seemed too much of a burden to question my sweet, living child with, even though, he is obviously far too young to understand), anyways, I asked the little boy voice, "Were there any more (kids) up there, waiting to join our family?" And I clearly felt that he said, "No, mama. Just me. Are you disappointed?" To which, I quickly replied, "No, baby. No way am I disappointed in the least. You are more wonderful than I ever dared to hope for."
And that is why I am giving the clothes away. I cannot not let another moment of his sweet childhood be shared with even a minute (or huge, depending on the day), desire for larger family. And having the clothes around makes this too tempting for me.
Anyways, as Spud grows, he is naturally outgrowing clothes along the way. What do I do with these? And what about the few maternity clothes I bought (the borrowed ones returned already)? Currently, I have them all boxed up. But they...their mere presence in my home space...is bothering me.
In conjunction with this topic, over the past few weeks, I feel invaded by an unceasing desire for a larger family still. To have our triplets at the end still...just one at a time. And I hate having these feelings. I got one miracle. I don't dare ask for another because I surely didn't deserve the first. But having these clothes around makes me sad that the newborn days are at an end. I loved pregnancy. I loved the newborn weeks. I loved the chance to have both. And yes, I love the dreams of the days ahead, too.
But now it is time to shut the doors of pregnancy and newborn and embrace those days ahead.
But I have these darn clothes. (Yes, I could just get rid of them. But doing that without thinking just isn't that easy--What IF I need them? What IF I don't? And yes, I over-think everything.)
This is like how I had a few baby items stored away for the five years it took to get to the point of getting to use them. A nursery linens set, a onesie, a stuffed lion, and a board book. Always there. Under the bed, in the back of the closet, in a trunk...wherever. But I knew they were always there. Waiting for use. Which made their lack of use taunting at times.
Just as these clothes already feel. And will feel more and more as the babyhood ends months down the road and big boy days enter. Fun in their own way, but different because of how much I love the baby days.
So, in deciding what to do with these clothes, I did what any "logical" infertile (is this an infertile thing? maybe it's just a me thing?) would do. I asked the tiny voice.
What is this tiny voice you ask?
Well....enter my crazy self...early in my pregnancy, when I would get worried about Spud, I would ask, (silently, in my head...surely that cuts down on the level this crazy is), I would ask my growing Spud "Are you okay in there?" And I would feel like I "heard" (again, in my head) this little joyful boy voice answer, "Yes, mama, I'm good. Don't worry about me." And I would calm down. Mind you, this reassurance was based on nothing but some made up voice (and the crazy level goes back up...). But it southed my anxiety. And it was a little boy from very early on, long before we knew the gender.
So, anyways, I asked today (again, not out loud--seemed too much of a burden to question my sweet, living child with, even though, he is obviously far too young to understand), anyways, I asked the little boy voice, "Were there any more (kids) up there, waiting to join our family?" And I clearly felt that he said, "No, mama. Just me. Are you disappointed?" To which, I quickly replied, "No, baby. No way am I disappointed in the least. You are more wonderful than I ever dared to hope for."
And that is why I am giving the clothes away. I cannot not let another moment of his sweet childhood be shared with even a minute (or huge, depending on the day), desire for larger family. And having the clothes around makes this too tempting for me.
3.27.2012
I like parenting pressure
Pressure seems to at first have a negative, complaining connotation. But it doesn't have to. Sometimes pressure is a good thing--in the right amounts, it can push someone to be better, do better.
It is the good connotation type of pressure that I feel. And I like it. Meaning, I feel constant, unending, always there in the foreground or slightly in the background, pressure to soak in every second of parenting this little guy. I'd even venture to say pressure to enjoy. Sure, I know, someone of you will say that's unneeded, as I'm "allowed" to not enjoy every moment. But for me, I want to. I don't think I have to be and even should be smiley happy constantly, but I do think for me, I want to feel joy at all times. Both for me and for those not parenting or not parenting yet. So out of honor to them and out of pure selfishness that I will likely only have one sweet baby to parent, I feel a good kind of pressure to stay present, stay connected, stay grateful for each moment, each cry, each diaper, each snuggle, each babble. Because I have moments, cries, diapers, snuggles and babbles to enjoy. Thank God. For reasons I'll never understand. It is that pressure that (hopefully, mostly) keeps me calm and less frustrated during the crying, ecstatic when woken up by a smiling cooing little boy, and just joyful to be along for the ride during the simple common daily moments. Doesn't also work that way mind you, but the pressure is always there.
It is the good connotation type of pressure that I feel. And I like it. Meaning, I feel constant, unending, always there in the foreground or slightly in the background, pressure to soak in every second of parenting this little guy. I'd even venture to say pressure to enjoy. Sure, I know, someone of you will say that's unneeded, as I'm "allowed" to not enjoy every moment. But for me, I want to. I don't think I have to be and even should be smiley happy constantly, but I do think for me, I want to feel joy at all times. Both for me and for those not parenting or not parenting yet. So out of honor to them and out of pure selfishness that I will likely only have one sweet baby to parent, I feel a good kind of pressure to stay present, stay connected, stay grateful for each moment, each cry, each diaper, each snuggle, each babble. Because I have moments, cries, diapers, snuggles and babbles to enjoy. Thank God. For reasons I'll never understand. It is that pressure that (hopefully, mostly) keeps me calm and less frustrated during the crying, ecstatic when woken up by a smiling cooing little boy, and just joyful to be along for the ride during the simple common daily moments. Doesn't also work that way mind you, but the pressure is always there.
3.24.2012
UU and DES curiosity
Like most uncommon conditions, most people don't know they exist until they have diagnosed with them (or know someone who is). Until I had my HSG done, I had no idea uterine abnormalities even existed. I thought all uteruses were more less the same shape. I knew they could be tilted, but I had no idea they could missing their other half or be divided or have a nonfunctioning bit next to the larger functioning portion. Needless to say, when I go my unicornuate uterus diagnosis, I immediately headed to google because the Ob would did my dye test really only knew it meant a high risk of loss and/or premature labor and almost always an automatic c-section due to a breech presentation. And basically, those are the highlights even once I got to the RE who knew a ton about all the various UA's (and drew each.one.of.them for us during our initial consultation...he was a bit of show off.)
Though I didn't know about my UU until IF entered my life, I've known for a while that I was a DES (drug given from 1938-1971 to help prevent pregnancy loss) granddaughter, but had always heard and been told by my mother (no known problems from it) and former Obs that DES only affected daughters of the DES patients, not the next generation. However, if you google around enough, you'll find whispers about no one really knowing the effect on the granddaugthers of DES patients, as I guess we are in the height of that groups reproductive years, so problems are just now being discovered or not yet faced. (DES Action is staying alert and involved as the years go one to any effect the grandchildren may have to still deal with.)
So, I'm wondering...is my unicornuate uterus, my dimished ovarian reserve diagnosed at 27, my dud of a left ovary that quit ovulating at 28....are those related to the DES my grandmother took coming down through the family tree still?
Furthermore, my question to all of you who read this--are you a granddaughter of a DES patient and what IF problems are you facing?
Though I didn't know about my UU until IF entered my life, I've known for a while that I was a DES (drug given from 1938-1971 to help prevent pregnancy loss) granddaughter, but had always heard and been told by my mother (no known problems from it) and former Obs that DES only affected daughters of the DES patients, not the next generation. However, if you google around enough, you'll find whispers about no one really knowing the effect on the granddaugthers of DES patients, as I guess we are in the height of that groups reproductive years, so problems are just now being discovered or not yet faced. (DES Action is staying alert and involved as the years go one to any effect the grandchildren may have to still deal with.)
So, I'm wondering...is my unicornuate uterus, my dimished ovarian reserve diagnosed at 27, my dud of a left ovary that quit ovulating at 28....are those related to the DES my grandmother took coming down through the family tree still?
Furthermore, my question to all of you who read this--are you a granddaughter of a DES patient and what IF problems are you facing?
3.08.2012
be heard-join an IVF study
Yesterday, I had the very enjoyable change to participate in a non-medical IVF study thanks to a posting I saw on LFCA that is open to those about to go thru IVF or who have gone thru IVF in the past five years. This study is being conducted by Jody Madeira from Indiana University. It involves a one hour (ok, mine was two because I'm long winded have a lot of words kinda lonely talk too much thorough) phone interview with a very kind, empathetic, personable person. Basically, she is looking at the topic of informed consent and decision making experience. It really was kind of nice to be discussing parts of my journey beyond just the numbers of eggs retrieved (or not) and the BFN's with someone who was actually interested (versus couldn't care but got stuck listening to me or just morbidly curious because of my freak show past). I got to talk about my experience which gave my battle a bit of purpose and discuss some of my clinical experiences so that hopefully someone can learn from them and improve upon them someday. It was a very positive two hours and I would encourage you to participate if you will be or are an IVF veteran because I know all of you have some very valuable experiences that could add depth to her study...plus, I like to support studies that will be beneficial to anyone else in the IF community.
You can email Jody Madeira directly at jmadeira@indiana.edu . There is an ama.zon gift card available for those that complete the interview and your responses are anonymous and confidential.
Note: If you decide to participate and you mail in your consent and then hear nothing--follow up! She never got mine (it's probably lost in the bowels of the typical university mail system), but I thought I just wasn't "picked" (like my IVF journey that I told her a little about in the email was too much of a train wreck for her to even want to deal with). Wrong--she is not random sampling for those that respond--she is interviewing whomever responds and is eligible. So, follow up with her (luckily, she followed up with me when my consent was never received.).
You can email Jody Madeira directly at jmadeira@indiana.edu . There is an ama.zon gift card available for those that complete the interview and your responses are anonymous and confidential.
Note: If you decide to participate and you mail in your consent and then hear nothing--follow up! She never got mine (it's probably lost in the bowels of the typical university mail system), but I thought I just wasn't "picked" (like my IVF journey that I told her a little about in the email was too much of a train wreck for her to even want to deal with). Wrong--she is not random sampling for those that respond--she is interviewing whomever responds and is eligible. So, follow up with her (luckily, she followed up with me when my consent was never received.).
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