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Romancing the Stone 
http://www.romancingthestone.wordpress.com

Wishing you the very very best!

A Little (Baby got) Back-story

I love this time of year. Besides the manic rush to fill everyone's stocking with things they don't need-I blog, and dream, and get lots of comments. I treasure every comment someone takes the time to leave behind as I do believe they fill me with some superpower juice. (Perhaps it's just the meds).


The Bear does not understand my fascination with blogging (something, by the way, I thought I would NEVER do). G-d forbid he catches me tweeting. I tell him it's kind of like his unbridled obsession with football, or with sugary breakfast cereal. "You know when you paint your belly blue and you go out there in the freezing cold and have a tailgate party at Gillette Stadium? " I explain "All that (dare I say) brotherhood and bonding over pony kegs??? Well, that feeling you get is what blogging gives me (without the hangover)." 


A little hooyah for all my sisters on the "Visiting" team. Our stats might be questionable, but we are here to kick some @ss!!!!! 

Random strangers

And we don't have to paint our bellies blue to do so!
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For those of you visiting this blog for the first time, I wanted to give you a little backstory. I am a 41 year old newlywed. That might sound rather "golden aged" but I still get carded and have wonderful skin. I feel 28 on the inside when I am not pumped up on meds.


I always aspired to be a high powered career girl with many lovers and pool boys who would fan me with palm fronds. The career developed beyond my expectation, but the lovers were duds and no pool boys materialized. One day I read this ridiculous article in O Magazine where the writer suggested that if you put your INTENTIONS into the would, you would reap a bountiful harvest. She said you had to write a list of 100 things you hoped to find in a partner, to fully actualize your hope in your mind. I had nothing to loose, as I found the love-over-30's dating scene to be somewhat lackluster, so I gave it a try. I got stuck around #64 I remember, but I mustered on. I remember asking that he "had a job", "had nice hands", "was devoted to his family" and "cracked me up" among more direct and personal hopes. (These hopes might seem simple and shallow but you would be AMAZED at some of singletons out there!) Writing this list made me feel somehow empowered. But as most "life changing" resolutions go, I quickly forgot about it.


About six months later, I met this crazy guy after a string of horrid internet dates. On our second date, he insisted on cooking dinner for me in my tiny condo. I noticed his big hands. As he passed me a glass of wine, I thought about my penchant for pool boys. Was this somewhat better?


After a few dates we began sharing our history. I told him things in the hope of scaring him away, so that I could resume my independent life. I mentioned that I had pursued adoption through foster care (then on hold), and had explored being a single mother by choice (unfortunate miscarriage). Surprisingly, he did not run screaming from my life. Instead, he somehow understood and expressed his desire to one-day become the father he always wanted to have. He was a keeper.


We were married five months later.


After we were married, I stumbled on that journal of "man-traits" as I was cleaning out the office. I was surprised to see that it felt as if I was describing him! The only pitfall- the "# 72.stylish dresser" is sometimes questionable, but hey, he still ROCKS in those nylon wind pants and that shade of acid washed jean will one day come back again!


So that's our story. Fifteen months into our marriage and we have endured extensive prodding and poking (and not in the good way,) several losses and many bumps and cheers on the road to baby hood. We have also experienced countless tears and laughter. I would never want to do it with anyone else.


Write your list. Then throw it away. It probably won't bring you additional luck, but it's nice to put your hope and intention into the universe.


(Thanks Elizabeth)

Wishing you joy.

Sweet Article about Motherhood, Adoption and Love

My family c.1972

This is one of my favorite articles on motherhood. The Bear read it to me a few weeks ago when we were at a little cafe before puppy shopping. (No puppy, but the day was wonderful....) Enjoy!

Baby, what a difference

A decade later, a lot has changed in the world of motherhood

By Louise Kennedy, Globe Staff  |  December 5, 2009
Babies don’t change much from one era to the next, but babyhood sure does.

At least that’s how it feels as I compare the arrivals of my two children, more than a decade apart. I gave birth to our son 12 years ago, and this summer my husband and I met our daughter in China, one week after her first birthday.

OK, so technically that makes her a toddler, not a baby, and certainly there are plenty of differences between preparing for a newborn and bringing home a 1-year-old. But the two of them are so startlingly similar in temperament and habits - both alert, curious, and cheerful (or, as I say in my grumpier moods, lousy sleepers, into everything, and loud) - that it makes it easier to see that, even with only 11 years between their births, they’ve landed in two surprisingly different worlds.

I started noticing the changes even before we flew to China in July. When I was pregnant with C.J., I read a few books, talked to a few friends, and made a list of the items we’d need. A friend supplied the crib, my mother bought a deluxe stroller, and for the car seat we went to Babies R Us, checked out the five or six models on the shelf, and picked the one that looked sturdiest and easiest to clean. Diapers, onesies, board books, done.
For T.T., on the other hand, things seemed much more complex. That was partly because the slowdown in adoptions from China meant that I had more than three years to make my lists. But the real difficulty, I think, was simply that there was so much more information available than before - and instantly, addictively available, too, via our new friend the Internet.

The trouble became most apparent once we’d actually received some basic information about our daughter, so that I finally knew (roughly) how big she was and what kind of car seat she’d need. But why schlep to the store, I thought, if I can just shop from the comfort of home?

And thus began my three days of Car-Seat Craziness. I quickly discovered not just the shopping sites, but also the online reviews and arguments about every imaginable style and brand of car seat. Issues I had never even considered - matching seat precisely to vehicle type, fretting about the compression factor of winter coats, locating an inspection site - soon flooded my brain.

Finally, sated with data and dizzy with ratings, I pointed and clicked on the model that I’d liked at first sight - and then found it for $100 off because I was willing to choose a less popular fabric.

Which brings me to another oddity about Planet Baby 2009: the new obsession with style, not just in all those adorable little outfits (now far cheaper and more accessible than in the dark ages of 1997) but in every accoutrement of infant life. Designer diaper bags? For 200 bucks or even more? When I knew that, no matter how stylish, in a year the thing would sit, beat-up and becrumbed, next to the sippy cups and snack holders in a box headed for Goodwill?

On the other hand, sippy-cup design and snack-holder technology have really come a long way in the past 12 years. That, plus all the cute, cheap clothing, is my happiest discovery in this brave new world. Oh, and baby sign language - something I’d dismissed as a yuppie trend back then, but now fully embrace as a remarkable way to soothe the frustrations of a young person who has plenty to communicate, but just can’t do it with her vocal cords quite yet.

Significant advances, all. They almost make up for the baffling, and dismaying, rise of electronic technology aimed at infants. If there’s one way I’d turn back the clock, it’s by eliminating all the toys that produce nasty flashes and beeps. Of course, that might take us back to 1897, not 1997, so never mind.

So many changes - it’s almost enough to blog about. Except that that remains the single most incomprehensible difference of all between babyhood then and now. I am just as tired, just as busy, and just as besotted with this baby as I was with the last, and I assume that all the other new mothers are, too. So where, how, and when do they find the time to blog?


It’s a mystery, and one I’d be happy to contemplate at length, except that the baby just woke up from her nap.
Some things never change.
Louise Kennedy can be reached at kennedy@globe.com, but not very often until her maternity leave ends next month.  

Sending LOVE

Hello all you gorgeous women out there.
I just wanted to send you some good energy!!!!

Listen, I spoke with the Bear last night, and we decided that whatever we hear later today regarding (our pregnancy test )will have to be kept between us until after Christmas. As much as I would like to share our results with you sisters, we feel it best to have a face to face with out families first-and we won't see my side until we fly out for Xmas day.
Plus my mother, sister and sister in law are following this blog from time to time, and I wouldn't want them to get their news (good OR bad) through the blog.

Also, I know that things change and the beginning is so fragile. So if the news is good, I'd just like to sit with it for a little while before putting it out on the blogosphere. If it's not good, I'll definitely need some processing time!

Deep breath!!!

I will say however that I am thinking of all of you. Everyone who has read this blog or has left a comment, and I have you all in my heart : )

We did the reverse the curse rituals last night and I have to say that it did fill me with a lot of girl power and happiness before the PT. I must say that sleeping on the opposite side of the bed was super fun, and having an "afternoon delight" first thing in the morning really started the day off right! So no matter the outcome I am covered in good luck charms today and feel full of good energy. I highly recommend making your own rituals to get through the Pregnancy test!
Wishing you well!
Shell

Willing the G-ds of Fate

I’m still at the tail end of the two week wait. We are trying to decide if it’s best to have the nurses give me the news of my blood test, or have them call the Bear. I want to be IN CONTROL and hear it, but I don’t want to be stuck between meetings weeping in the bathroom stall (as before….).

Sometimes it feels like the movie“Goundhog’s Day” where we remain in a cycle of horrific repetition. We get the same news every time. I am always told I am pregnant, but the numbers are too low. They make me do other bloodtests and wait till the number is zero before they leave me alone. It makes me feel like my soul is holding on to a faint heartbeat that is getting slower and slower until it stops. It’s been terribly painful for both my husband and me.

Obviously I cannot control fate, but if I can break out of the cycle of repetition, perhaps I am doing something in my small way to WILL the g-ds of fate to give us a new solution. What if I do everything differently on the day of our blood test? Here are some of my ideas so far. I'd love additional feedback and other ideas. Even silly or outlandish ones....


1. I will wear something very bright, even though it's winter in New England. That way the g-ds of fate may take notice and I will proclaim "This is the day!"
Maybe I'll wear a lucky necklace or something I haven't worn before...


2. I will get my blood drawn at another location.


3.I will have massive sex the night before. That's not something I would normally do before the test.


4. I will begin the day eating something unconventional- like ICE cream for BREAKFAST.


5. I will leave myself little notes of affirmation at work, so no matter what the news, I will see these little wise and supportive thoughts.


6. I will go to temple a few days before. It will be Hanukkah no less! (If I am not feeling particularly Jewish, I will create my own little temple and say a prayer somewhere...)


7. I will send myself flowers...(????)I have not done that- so no matter what the outcome I will get a little present of love.


8. I will leave a little WISH note in the third stocking we have hanging on the mantle. That way our wish is out in the universe. 


Any other ideas???????? Any favorites.


Please say a little prayer for us and our embies! Every little bit helps....

A hen atop eggs

I feel as if I have run a marathon in my mind. Acknowledging I was going to take on the challenge of infertility was one thing. Yet another was getting up and over that first hill. But we did it! We had 18 egglets which developed into 8 embies, 5 of which were plump and beautiful. I said a little prayer for the remaining 3 as they were not able to be saved or put back into my womb.

It’s so hard. This process. The questions about when life truly begins. Still, I cannot help but feel immeasurably blessed to have the benefit of science and the support of loved ones through this journey.

When I was younger- still a sassy single lass- I considered becoming a single mother by choice. I also explored adoption through foster care. I have so much respect for men and women who follow their heart and take on convention. The only thing holding me back, was that I was not ready at the time. But I am proud I explored it, and I went as far as I could go with it. Sometimes, pulling out of the race takes as much courage as staying in it.

So now I sit here, like a plump hen atop a handful of eggs. I am in such gratitude it is inexpressible. That is my way of coping and surviving through this trying time. To sit in grace, if even for a moment.

Everything happens in its own time. I would not be the woman I am today if I had reached the finish line any earlier. I would not have been with my husband, whom I discovered later in my life. I would not have this strength within me, this smile on my face, or this appreciation for this phenomenal, although imperfect body.

I would not appreciate the gifts we hope to receive nearly as much if they were given to me easily.I have been lucky to be successful in life, but I have worked hard for all I have achieved. And as much as a “career girl” as I may be , I am happy to feel like a hen atop eggs today.

Whatever happens, I welcome it with grace.

Thank you g-d for giving me the opportunity to run this race, and to do so with such beautiful wonderful women whom I have met on this marathon…

My best to all of you

Shell

A Birthday of Sorts

It’s one of those days outside where you can’t tell if it’s 10am or 4pm. This transitional haze seems to coat everything. Still I feel like it’s a BIRTHday of sorts! Today is the day of our IVF transfer.

This will be our 3rd and I am cautiously hopeful that the day will go well. Our first transfer was a bit of a debacle. The attending RE was cruel and insensitive and kept yelling at me not to talk or move through the procedure. I felt like a chained animal. So primal and frightened. I heard later from the nurses that he’s been known to lock ladies out of the bathroom so they keep a full bladder for the procedure. He might be a brilliant Dr., but I hope someone pees on him one day!

So Crazy MD recommended that I be “knocked out” for transfer #2 so I wouldn’t cause any more havoc in the Operating room. I couldn’t agree more with the concept of sleeping through a very vulnerable experience and waking up slightly high and happy. Unfortunately, they forgot to tell me to have some water before I arrived, and when they tried to administer the IV they had to stick me 14 times before I made them stop. There was blood all over the floor and my husband was turning blue.

I opted for valium.

MMMMMMMMMmmmmmmm! Valium. Now I know what they mean my the term mother’s little helper!

Luckily the IVF Dr. #2 had soft and gentle eyes and was wonderful. He kept me distracted and I was able to get through it. I also realized after round 1 that I can’t have my husband in the OR with me. I just feel too vulnerable and get very self conscious.

I really liked the Dr. who did the retrieval this week. Everyone at BWH Boston was awesome and I felt very well cared for. At times I tried to pretend I was at the spa (wishful thinking ) and they were working on my energy from the inside out. I hope the transfer Dr. will be equally kind and ease me through this.

At this point of the IVF journey, you have had so many people in your “business”. You don’t think twice when you are prodded and poked in your naughty bits. But that transfer is the hardest part for me. It’s like a reunion with hope and these little bits of life that I love so much! Fate is back in your hands, and even though much of it is out of your sphere of influence, a bit of life is re-deposited inside you. 

Each time you have to go through another doorway on this journey- sex for fun to sex for baby making, talking to a specialist, testing, clomid, IUI,IVF, etc….you find this immeasurable strength that you didn’t know you had before. Two years ago, I never imagined that I would choose to do IVF. Now I am on my 3rd try and I thank g-d for the gift of modern science. 

Women are strong, we keep on going. I love that.

Wishing you the very best….

Three Little Stockings

18 follicles at time of retrieval. 8 developing embies as of yesterday. I hope hope hope the numbers stay good and we have some strong little ones for the transfer tomorrow.

I’ve been so restless today. I can’t sit still. It’s a gorgeous day in Boston and I had to take off and get lost in TJ Maxx, only to buy a ton of stuff I don’t really need. I felt a little twinge as I walked past the children’s christmas pajamas. Even through I will NEVER dress my future child in sparkly gingham and lace,  it felt a bit like a them vs. us moment.

I did do something unexpected. I bought 3 Christmas stockings. Quite remarkable for several reasons:

1. I am  Jewish!

2. We already have some tacky holiday stocking somewhere in the basement.

3. There are only two of us, right now…..

I just couldn’t help it. They were surprisingly lovely. Heavy gauge sweater knit and crocheted in  beautiful patterns. For The Bear- a cream colored stocking of gorgeous cable knit with gold trim. For me, a funky stripe of red, pink, lime green and white. And for XXXXX, a sweet little red fairisle with red pom poms.

I thought it might be interesting to mount all three on the mantle. To fill the little one up with wishes and notes that we could save until there’s a new person in our family to read them to. Notes of love and wishes that they come into our lives soon.

****************************************

On a different note, I have discovered a “cycle buddy” all the way in New Zealand. We write to each other and send some good energy across the pond. It’s Egghunt! Check out her blog. And if you are cycling with us, drop us a line. It’s been nice to stay connected.

I wish everyone reading this peace, love and good fortune.

Shell & The Bear

Make it a Dozen!

I have 10 egglets so far! Just little seedlings of things to come but the RE said it’s very promising. They lowered my stim meds because my estrodial level was soaring too quickly. They called me a high responder? Sounds like the nerdy kid at the front of the classroom with her eager  hand up in the air  (yes that WAS me! Nerdy girl).

I just wish that the quality of my old eggs matches my body’s enthusiasm.

41.

To have found love at 40 and be trying to conceive at 41. It’s kinda crazy. I have colleagues at work with pre-teens with body hair. But hey, I always imagined I’d be successful and unattached, travel the world and have many lovers. I was lucky in the regard that I DID get to live the life I longed for. I checked off many of the boxes on my life-list and eventually I decided to rewrite my list. I remember telling a friend, who was struggling in an unhealthy relationship, to figure out where he wanted to be on the day he died, and work backwards. I realized I needed to heed my own advice and decide what stories I wanted to have at the end of my life. 

That story led me to where I am today. 

If I am indeed “working backwards” than I know intuitively what I hope lies ahead. I don’t know how I will get there yet, but I am happy to be on this journey toward a deeper truth.

So my 10 little egglets are making their way in the world. The Bear came with me to the ultrasound today but I couldn’t stop laughing when it was time for the dildocam. There’s something about your lover seeing you with your legs in the air and a plastic probe under your gown that really makes you self-conscious (you THINK!!!!). And the gown- Jeezus- that’s the first thing I’d like to redesign! How bout something RED and fabulous for all of us strong, mighty bitches out there!

(I mean bitches in the nicest way- if you are on meds I am sure you know that!)

The Golden Goose

On the way to the Hospital to get a bloodtest, I watched a flock of geese navigate the busy highway. One would expect them to fly across, ascending the swiftly moving cars that were in their way. Maybe they were lazy, but they chose to walk across. All twenty of them! Chests out, beaks pointing upward.
Obviously if you had to pit a goose -even twenty geese- up against a swerving, angry car, the geese would, in all probability, get creamed. What goose in their right mind would CHOOSE to waddle across a Boston thoroughfare at rush hour! But here they were, sachaying proudly toward their destination, the last patch of green grass in the city square.

I feel like one of those geese today. Chest out, walking briskly towards the hospital. Sachaying towards ....what? Perhaps the odds are not in my favor. Maybe the machine of fate and infertility is bigger than me. But still I'm walking!!! Confronting it head on.  And now I have sisters.I have lifelong girlfriends and my own sister as well as new partners I've made on this journey. We're all golden geese crossing the highway together. Prancing around with our RubyFeathered tails.
There is strength in numbers.
Faith trumps Fear.

Love,
Shell

Child's Play!

Good news!

We had our first girl-power mixer for the RubyFeather Social Club last night and it was AWESOME. I never met so many  women who I would totally love to be friends with. It was wonderful to hear the stories of others and share strengths and support. I believe that everyone left energized and hopeful, really feeling this if they had sisters on the journey toward motherhood.


In addition to that I can proudly say I DID IT!  I gave myself the menopur shot this morning. Yes, I was still sweating and a little nervous, but I played some Joss Stone tunes and did a little power dance before I plunged the needle in my belly. Hooyah! I can't believe it, but I felt EMPOWERED! I had control over something for once. I think I am going to take the syringe away from my husband, and do it myself more often.


On a funny note, the Bear left me the HCG needle instead of my teenie 30 gauge one. I was mixing the solution and getting ready to add the needle when I thought- Cruel joke! What was he trying to do? Kill me???? Once I found an appropriate sharp (a wee dwarf of the HCG needle,) it seemed like child's play.


A big thank you and cyber hug to everyone who has left me a comment. IT'S HELPING!!!!!
Go ladies go! Let's make some cute babies around here!

Sleepy Hollow

I have so much to do today, but I need to “get this out”. I am not sure what words or patterns will form here, but I need to open the padlock to my hope chest and set a few butterflies free.

I tried to call my RE to postpone this IVF cycle. With the passing of my Uncle and the stresses at home and work, I just felt like it was all too much right now. I went over timing with the nurse and it’s pretty impossible to just push it out a month because their lab closes for the holidays and they have cutoff dates in November. If we wait until January we have to get approved again from our insurance, and our deductible will be HUGE.

My body and mind need TIME, but there is now way to barter for time right now.

So we began the basline tests yesterday. I went to the Ultrasound lab at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston and tried to send a little good energy to the ladies who sat near me in the waiting room. I need to reach out with a smile and a whisper of “good luck” to my sisters on this journey, because I know how desperately I flourish under the support and kindness of others.

We started the Gonal F last night and now do menopur in the am. That sh!# burns! Tomorrow I may have to give myself the injection (and it scares me). Me, in my seemingly professional power-suit, sweating and shaking over the kitchen sink with a needle in my belly. The image makes me want to cry…

Breathe, kiddo. That’s about all you can do right now.

Gosh, I could use a hug (or a valium : ) )!

pork & (In)perfection

I’ve been thinking about this social club we have just started, and I am so excited by the positive response we have had thus far. We are less than two weeks old and have 20 new members in Massachusetts and Maine. I’ve gotten so many wonderful notes from readers who would love to join, but live too far. I wish we could do happy hours via skype so every woman who needed a network, could find herself in our big Boston Bear-Hug.

I first began this blog to break out of the bubble of isolation that this journey toward family can often create. You are either on the “inside” of the experience, or on the “outside”. As much as your friends and family love you, they are watching through a streaky window. What would it be like to be on the “inside” ….with sisters? The idea inspired me to form RubyFeather Social Club

I hope the group generates a lot of good energy, catharsis, and empowerment. It is so easy to lose your center on this journey. Maybe a few vagina jokes and some mocktails with the girls in RubyFeather  will help to brighten up this place!

And speaking of “not funny” moments (having little or nothing to do with my vagina) let me tell you about our domestic train wreck yesterday….

The Bear and I have been married a year. Last night was to mark the first dinner we have hosted at our house for both his parents and mine. I love my in-laws AND I love my parents, but the night was like a train that CRASHED, DE-RAILED, then got itself back on course and somehow arrived AHEAD OF TIME!

(Forgive me , if anyone in my family reads this. But blogging IS my therapy!)

Friday night, T minus 4 hours….My dad got a phone call at 2pm from a hospital in Florida. He had been trying to find his brother, whose phone was busy for several days. A man called to say he found my uncle passed out on the floor of his apartment a few days ago. He was now in intensive care and had not resumed conciousness. My parents are visiting Boston from California, and we immediately began making plans for my dad  to fly to florida, to be at my uncle’s bedside.

T minus 2 hours….My mother in law arrived two hours early . She had been trying to reach her son (my husband), who was swept away in the hubub of our family drama, and had missed her calls. I was still trying to arrange a flight and car for my dad and I hadn’t had a moment to dress pretty or finish setting up the house. (Obviously our priorities had changed). This day was a BIG DEAL to me. We’ve been planning it for weeks and I even bought our “married” silverware in preparation for the perfect table. This seemed so superfluous now.

Anyway, my head and heart were with my uncle, but the night was still moving forward. I hate not being prepared and I am a terrible stress ball (…control freak?) when things get derailed. (People who know me are probably smiling at this remark) The Bear was beyond grumpy,the appetizers still in plastic wrap, and I felt like someone who was caught in musky old clothes after a hapless walk of shame.

So train WRECK….then a slight DE-RAIL. When you are on this infertility journey, keeping face during special times can often seem like a dauntless task and a secret obsession. Once I realized that I needed to LET GO of the need to be appear perfect the night seemed to improve. Still it was not easy to give up this obsession!!!!! I lit a few candles and the floor didn’t seem as dirty (and neither did my hair : ) ). I had a few glasses of wine and “pouf”, BACK ON TRACK!

Somewhere between the stuffed mushrooms and the pork loin I was able to sneak away and get my dad a ticket to florida. My dear friend helped us out with a buddy pass on Jet Blue. (FLY JET BLUE!!!!!). I resumed my spot in the group and dad was relieved. Mom and M-I-L had rosy cheeks from a bit of wine and  girl-talk.

TAKE OFF. The Bear made a pork loin that was out of this world. Jews and pork- not always a good mix, but it was absolutely perfect!

T PLUS 2 HOURS- The pork was consumed, the apple cobbler devoured and my father in law was turning my parents on to another shot of lemoncello.

The night ended well. Daddy left on a 7am flight for Florida today. He says Uncle had a stroke and his condition is critical. I will keep them both in my prayers. The night made me realize that family is the most important thing… Nothing is ever perfect. But we need to cherish those moments that tug at our hearts. I am blessed to have so much love in this house….In 10 years, I’ll remember my mother’s bright eyes and tender heart last night, not my smelly pits or messy kitchen. That’s what I’ll take away from this….

Wishing you joyful moments of imperfection…

A Snowball's Chance

My obsession with Angelina Jolie’s eggs kept me up last night. OK, I admit, it could appear somewhat homo-erotic, but that’s not what I’m getting at. If we are not preggers the “old fashioned way” : ) this month, we will resume our IVF journey in the next few weeks. After several lost pregnancies through IVF and IUI, I am pretty anxious about this round. Our Doctor (who I LOVE) recommends we continue with ICSI and IVF and hold off on pursuing a donor egg. She gave the Bear and I a slew of genetic tests (12 blood tests for me!) and did an endometrial biopsy to rule out endometritis as the cause of our frequent losses. Everything came back A-OK and we exhumed a big sigh of relief after the many weeks of waiting.

Still, I feel a little like a deer in the headlights on this round. I’m standing in the middle of the road, hoping I’m not hit again…

I love my Dr. because she is one of the best in her industry. She directs the Center for Infertility at a prominent hospital in Boston, and she teaches at Harvard Medical School. She takes the time to talk to us, and actually asks us how we are doing. I’ve dealt with some of her colleagues at the center, and it’s rare to get more than a grunt from some of them. Nevertheless, I believe that she cares deeply for her patients and she’ll give you straight up advice. She’s the kind of woman I would have liked to be friends with, in another time and place.

My obsession with Angelina and the eggs she bares has very little to do with Angelina Jolie herself. It’s what she personifies to me. She’s a sexual goddess yet she’s a seemingly devoted (and quite fertile) mother figure. Being married to an Italian, who’s also a Catholic, I recognize that women are often archetypally personified as the vixen (sexual and available), or the virgin (mother figure). But Angelina is both, it seems (at least to the camera). Her eggs seem like Faberge’.

Where is this going?

I guess I’m scared. I get overly “heady” when I’m scared. I’m scared of losing another one or having a baby with birth defects because of the age of my old eggs. I’m pretty messed up in the head right now.

My probability rate of getting pregnant with my eggs and having a live birth is about 23%-26% as per my Doctor. I compared the figure to other events with a similar probability, just to see how I felt about it:

• In 2005, analysts predicted there would be a 1 in 4 chance of a recession in the next 12 months. (And look what happened!)
• There is a 45.12% probability that a building will blow down in its lifetime!
• There is a 23% probability that a “Great Flood” will occur every 25 years.
• There is a 23% chance of snow in Columbus, Ohio on any given Christmas.
• If you are a trucker, and are text messaging (or reading this!) you have a 22% greater chance of being involved in an accident in Portland, Oregon.

Wow. This stuff is pretty depressing, but I do know something without repute:

• I am 500% loved by a man I adore, and I couldn’t ask for a better partner on this journey. (The Bear confirms this!)
• I am happy for all I do have. All the people I have touched, who have touched me in return.
• I have so very much to be thankful for. I need to sit in my power.
• Even if my eggs are few, and not as fresh as they once were, they are beautiful, and treasured. And they are mine! : )

On the Inside- and it Stings!

This following is a response I posted to Melissa Ford (aka Stirrup queen) on BlogHer column refuting a recent article about twins and IVF. It is in relation to a recent New York Times article that many of us found deeply disheartening. Again, it makes me feel like those of us on this journey are in a bubble of isolation, while those on the outside of the experience proselyytize and minimize the motivations of Doctors and patients alike. I welcome you to read this article, and offer your own comments on the subject. My thoughts on “The Gift of Life, and its Price” by Stephanie Saul in the New York Times:  

Dear Melissa,

Thank you for this beautiful review of a very disturbing article. I can’t begin to tell you how I feel when I picked up my Sunday NYT to see the photo of two sanguine babies so small, they fit in sand buckets (They were actually placed in these buckets for their photo!). The paper lay on my kitchen table for 3 days before I willed myself to read it. My husband and I are taking a month break from IVF after two consecutive miscarriages. What bothered me about the article was that it truly felt as if it was scribed by someone on the “outside” of this experience. For those of us on this journey, it pains me to see such indifference and lack of opposing viewpoints in such a front page article. Saul makes it appear as if every Doctor and clinic’s focus lies solely on churning out babies and ensuring the fiscal success of their practice. She insinuates that reputable clinics avoid proper protocall and compromise the safety of their patients in order to “meet numbers” and draw new clients to their practice. While this may be the case in some clinics, I think it is a broad, sweeping exaggeration to say that is the motivating factor of every RE.

In my experiences with IUI and IVF, I have never encountered such pressure, or lack of regard for my overall well being. 

I wish the article would have offered a more balanced perspective and Saul would have interviewed others in the Medical profession who’s purpose and attitude differed from her own.

Thank you so much for your perspective, and for letting me share mine.

Michele