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….

RubyFeather is now on Facebook

So many ladies have written to say that they love the idea of our new girl-power group for those of us navigating the big IF. I have to say that it is so wonderful to get such an outpouring of support.

We have set up a facebook page so folks interested in Rubyfeather and what it represents can connect and support one another. This page is global, so you don’t have to live in Boston to become a member.

Also, by joining this page or becoming a “fan” you can help us spread the word about RubyFeather. I tried to keep the main premise of the group somewhat discreet in description.

Here’s the link….http://www.facebook.com/pages/Boston-MA/RubyFeather-Social-Club-New-England/160954877470?ref=share

Won’t you be my facebook friend?

What is RubyFeather?

We sit across from each other in the waiting room of the Infertility Clinic. Sometimes we are with a partner or a friend. Sometimes we come alone. We see each other at our IVF and IUI orientations – 5 hours of medial info and tears. Small talk at break over coffee. Downcast eyes. Beyond that, we don’t speak.

Now we are embroiled in the process. We talk to friends about it, but they don’t understand. How can they truly? Our partner is in the thick of it with us. Sometimes people ask us too many questions, or just tell us to “relax and it’ll happen!!”

We see each other again at the ultrasound clinic. First it’s the “high achievers” in suits, in line before 6am, then, the rest of us, somewhat discheveled. We each carry a folder full of numbers and stats, a map of the maze-like hospital, and our medical protocall. Red folders for IVF. Green for egg donation. Still, we don’t speak.

Eventually, we get so overcome by the process that we crave the comraderie of other women going through the experience. We join online chats and groups, and read countless blogs. We speak through the computer. A little echo in a long tunnel of silence. 

So many times, I’ve wanted to talk to you. I wanted to say “I UNDERSTAND.” I’ve wanted to give you a hug if you needed it, or a smile just to commiserate. It sucks. It really does! And noone knows it better than someone experiencing it as you are.

I’m the woman that sits across from you getting her blood drawn for the millionth time. You can also find me down in the ultrasound room. I’m the lady on line in the grocery store, buying pineapple and avoiding dairy. I’m your online BFF.

Let’s smile at one another next time. A big cheshire cat smile. Emanating like light from a once dark space.

Vaginasaurus

I’ve gotten about 50 hits on the blog this month by people searching the keyword “pterodactyl”. (See the posting: Fill Your Cup). Innocently, I recommended that anyone going through the baby-making process develop an “alter ego” to give voice to the new hyper-you that seems to come out during the meds and the stressful trials of trying to conceive. I refer to MY alter ego as Tarra, she’s a graceful pterodactyl. I could not go through this without Tarra. I can attribute (or blame her) for any mood swings or questionable tears that surface during the process. She’s also a great source of humor for both me and my husband, as we can just say “Tarra did it!” when anything particularly nasty comes out of my mouth.

Tarra sits on my right shoulder. She’s strong and powerful, but angers easily. Like me, she knows that even when it’s bad, it’s worth it. She’s not sure if this journey will bring us a baby through IVF, egg donation or adoption, but she assures me that there’s more than one way to make a family.

Tarra loves all women going on this journey, because no matter how beautiful, how successful, or how self-actualized we are, we are still humbled by the process. Her little reptile heart beats for each of us.

I bring this up for two reasons:

1. I think everyone should have an alter ego.

2. There are a handful of schoolchildren out there, looking for information on Dinosaurs, and finding a Vaginasaurus instead….

…..oops.

Runaway Heart

When I was little, I used to run away from home a lot. I’d pack a snack and hide behind our house. I’d sit with my back against my bedroom wall and stare out at the palm trees. Sometimes, I would plant watermelon seeds with my fingers; digging little holes between slips of grass. I stay hidden until I got bored, or hungry, or both. Eventually, as rosy dusk would fall on our subdivision, I would return home. My parents would put on a big show about how happy they were that I was back, and tell me how much they missed me.

Eventually, I figured out that my mother could actually see me from the house, and that she knew the whereabouts of my secret hiding spot. So, when I was big enough, about eight or nine, I would run away to my grandparents’ house. They lived about three blocks away, but a canal separated our neighborhood from theirs. The fervent walk seemed endless to me in my childhood rage.

My Grandmother would invite me in (she always seemed to know when I was coming???) and we’d sit at her kitchen table while I wailed about the horrors of the day. Eventually her phone would ring. “Yes, yes hello! Uh huh…Yes, She is….Ok!”

“Grandma, who was that????” I’d ask.        

“Wrong number” She’d reply.

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

I go in for a biopsy tomorrow.

They are trying to rule out endometriosis as the cause of our recurrent losses. Sadly, you have to have a series of miscarriages before the insurance will cover the cost of these tests! Think of how much money and heartache would be saved if they investigated these things BEFORE people began IVF? Could you imagine this happening in life outside the realm of medicine? It would be as if you’d have to get in a few car accidents before they check to see if you’d pass the driving test.

Nevertheless, I’m off track again. Insurance does that to me….

I hate biopsies. I’ve never seen a happy biopsy. They always come with some baggage and discomfort. The Bear will be going with me, which is nice. And my Doc gave me a prescription for a valium. Even nicer! Hopefully I will be dreaming of bunnies….

I bring all of this up because it makes me miss my grandmother more than ever. I wish I could just run away behind her house, or sit at her kitchen table and cry. I’m so exhausted by this process.

I just have to remember why I am doing this….for love.

Full circle.

M.

The Root of Love

I am reading a book called "The Places That Scare You." By Pema Chodron. She is a white anglo woman woman who bacame a tibetan monk after living a life as wife and mother. While her words speak of the Buddhist faith, meditation and balance, her history rests on a life not unlike our own.

This week I was reading a section on honoring yourself and others. She speaks of creating a meditiative practice where you wish for peace, strenght, love for yourself and others. " I wish ( name) finds comfort, and the root of comfort. I wish (your beloved) finds strength, and the root of strength". It goes like that.

I started to think of "the root of" a virtue that she often mentions in this chant. Its the digging down deep to find the nurturing origins of that strength, love and power. The root. I love that idea of finding the root of what you need to sustain you.

Chodoron also mentions that as you continue the practice, you begin to make wishes for those you love, eventually, you also begin to make wishes for those that "irritate" you. She says it is hard to wish goodness on those that have hurt you, but once you can do that, you can let everything go.

*******

I promised I would throw a stone in the ocean and make a wish for every person who is experiencing challenges with conceiving or loss . I decided to wait until we were in Bermuda, where the water was aqua and sentient. My husband and I swam out of a cove on Horeshoe bay. It was raining.  I used a handful of pink sand to make my tribute to you. For a moment I felt like we were all connected by a golden thread.

Dear reader-
"I wish you happiness, and the root of happiness.
I wish you strength, and the root of strength.
I wish you love, and the root of love.
I wish you faith, and the root of faith.
I wish you good health, and the root of good health.
I wish you a happy family, and the root of that family. "


With love...
M