First Come, First Served

Congratulating a fellow infertile on their pregnancy is always an interesting dynamic.

On one hand, I am truly excited for them, and grateful they have moved on to the next adventure.

On the other hand, a small part of me can't help but feel a little deflated. Why not me? I've been waiting longer.

It's then I have to remind myself that parenthood is not a first-come, first-served blessing.

And so I wait...

Holidays

When I was a teenager, I loved Valentine's Day. I thought the legend behind it was sweet, and I always looked forward to celebrating the "day of love".

For some reason, I always had a boyfriend or an admirer at that time of year. I didn't plan it that way, it just always happened. As Valentine's Day would roll around, I felt no dread, only excitement about the potential surprises that awaited me from whatever love interest I had at that time. I was also anxious to surprise him with something fun.

I'm sure I thought about those who had no romantic prospects. I consider myself an empathetic person, for the most part. I must have experienced a fleeting consideration for those who found that day to be depressing and lonely. Seemingly, however, I must have moved on quite quickly to the excitement of my day.

I have no doubt that, should motherhood have come easily, I would have had the same attitude toward Mother's Day. Consumed in the pleasures that came with celebrating and being celebrated, I imagine any thoughts about those left out would have been brief. I know I would have felt sad for those who had no mother to celebrate, but I hesitate to think I would have remembered those who remained childless.

Among the millions of people living in this country, there were surely millions who felt pain this Mother's Day. Some were people who's mother passed away. Others were people who never knew their mother or are estranged from their mother. Also, there were mothers hurting because they have lost their children and those mothers whose husbands / children did not make Mother's Day special for them, leaving them disappointed. And, of course, there are the women who could not become mothers.

When Father's Day rolls around, these same painful feelings will be felt by a whole new set of people.

This Mother's Day, I reflected on holidays in general and found myself dividing them into two categories: event oriented and people oriented. Event oriented holidays would include those holidays that celebrate an event: Easter, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc.

The second set celebrates people. There are holidays that celebrate groups of people in a community sense, such as Veteran's Day. Then there are the holidays that celebrate individual people in a relationship sense: Mother's Day, Father's Day, even Valentine's Day.

Now I'll throw something out there... Do we really need these 'relationship' holidays? I'm not saying we don't. It was just an interesting thought to explore.

We have Valentine's Day to celebrate the love between two people. Couldn't that be done on an anniversary? And in a much classier, personalized, and intimate way? No more paying $200 for a sad vase of flowers and trying to make reservations in an over-crowded, over-priced restaurant. You celebrate your love on a day that is special to YOU. Or you could celebrate these people just because you love them. I have to say that I don't remember many things Ryan did for me on various Valentine's Days, but I'll never forget the random day he sent me flowers just because.

Likewise, Mother's Day and Father's Day are there to show our parents how much we love and appreciate them. Couldn't this also be done on a day that special to your relationship? Their birthday? YOUR birthday? What about sending a note to mom, or taking Dad out to dinner just because you love them. Seems this would mean so much more. No longer is your kind gesture perceived as fulfilling a societal obligation, but it is now a token of selfless giving. I would love to wake up and find my children greeting me with soggy cereal and burnt toast on a random Saturday morning, not because it was Mother's Day and it was expected.

I know mothers work hard and are often times unappreciated. I fully believe that having a day to honor them is wonderful. I enjoyed visiting with my Mom this year on Mother's Day. I look forward to sharing Mother's Day with my children someday.

But even when that day comes, I know that Mother's Day in my eyes will always be different than it would have been, had motherhood come easy. I will never be able to enjoy it as carefree as I enjoyed those Valentine's Days long ago. A little bit of the innocence and blissful naivete has been lost. On that day, my thoughts will always wonder toward that 'other' group of women: the ones gritting their teeth, swallowing their tears, and praying for the day to be over.

Wow

I HAD to share this. Amazing...

Mother's Day: Take 6

So, Mother’s Day… You would think after 5 previous heart-breaking Mother’s Days, I’d be used to it by now! Well, this one was better than some, and I made it through alright. I had one tiny breakdown in the shower, but the day seemed to get better as time progressed.

The following is a memoir of my day. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Notice how the good completely outweighs the bad…

The Good:
- Having my parents over that evening for dessert.
- Giving my mom a card and a poem.
- Having my mom alive, healthy, and able to celebrate with me.
- Avoiding having to stand there with all the ‘real’ moms at church to accept my “Mother’s Day treat”
- My Bishop saving me a “Mother’s Day treat”, finding me in the hallway to give it to me, and offering words of encouragement.
- Getting to be in Sunday School and the Young Women’s classes. The Sunday School lesson was on the Sabbath Day and the YW lesson was on the Priesthood. No ‘Mom’ references anywhere! Last year, I was in Primary, helping the kids make something for their moms and answering their questions about why I’m not a mom, even though I’m old. (Good luck explaining infertility to a 7-year-old!)
- Taking my usual Sunday nap, and wondering how many moms actually get to do that on Sundays.
- Emails and cards from dear friends who were thinking about me. People who asked how I was doing. You know who you are. That was above and beyond. It’s nice not to be completely ignored on Mother’s Day!
- Did I mention the “Mother’s Day treat” was See’s Candy???

The Bad:
- Almost having to teach the young women’s lesson last minute. I had horrid visions flash before my eyes that the topic would be Motherhood.
- Carrying anxiety that at any moment someone could say something that would make me lose it.
- Having to answer, “No, I’m not a mom” to the people who asked.
- The general feeling of bitterness that I kept swallowing down all day, and the guilt that comes from such a feeling.

The Ugly:
- Logging into Facebook to see page after page of friends wishing other “mommy friends” a happy Mother’s Day. Not to take away from their celebration, it was just hard reading about the sweet things their children were doing for them. Made me excited for the future, but sad for the present.

So there is the breakdown. Not too shabby!

A couple years ago, there was a total meltdown that led to the breaking of a COMMANDMENT in the frantic search of solace. As LDS church members, we believe in keeping the Sabbath Day holy. Part of that is not shopping, going out to eat, etc on Sunday. Well, that Mother’s Day was so bad, as I was sobbing in the front seat, Ryan drove me straight to Baskin Robbins. When I looked up and wondered why we were there, he simply said, “Get out of the car. We’re getting ice cream.” The poor guy didn’t know what else to do with me!

As I said, I’ve had worse. This one, not so bad! Maybe they’ll get better over time?

Only 363 days until I find out! Let the countdown to next Mother's Day begin…

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This Mother’s Day post will be continued. I have been having some interesting thoughts about Mother’s Day, and certain holidays in general, which I plan to share at a later time.

Something to Show Me?

I just had to record this, because there were times I thought this day would never come.

I typically leave for work before hubby gets home. However, this morning, I was pretty tired and decided to sleep in.

Hubby came home and, after some chatting, we had the following conversation:

R: Well, don’t you have something to show me?
Me: Huh?
R: Don’t you have something to show me?
Me: (After some thought) Do you mean a pregnancy test???
R: Yeah, when I got home and opened the garage door and saw your car still there, I thought you had stayed home and waited because you had something to show me.
Me: Oh, well, I wasn’t thinking about something like that… I wouldn’t get your hopes up…
Me: You look disappointed…
R: Maybe we’re switching roles…

It was really nice to see him disappointed. I know that sounds mean, but after years of feeling alone in this struggle, it’s nice to feel that we are playing on the same team. Don’t get me wrong, he has been very supportive of me. Just not emotionally invested in the goal. I caught a glimmer of that today and it felt great!

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Side Note: I plan to address the topic of Mother’s Day 2009, just haven’t been able to yet. I have many, many thoughts and look forward to sharing them soon.

I Choose Us

Have you ever seen the movie, The Family Man? It begins at an airport with a dramatic good-bye scene between a boyfriend and girlfriend. He was planning to move overseas for a year to intern at a company. Then, he would return and they will be together. That is the plan. She desperately wants him to stay. In the scene, she asks him to forget their plan. In her plea she says, “I choose us”.

This quote is the theme throughout the movie. Both Ryan and I really enjoy the movie, and watch it on occasion. Every once in a while we will joke with each other and someone will say dramatically, “I choose us”.

Over the last 6 years, I have been dedicated to beginning a family. Many of my decisions were directly related to this goal. I purchased a ‘family friendly’ vehicle (and when that one wore out, I purchased another). I chose a career that I enjoy, but also has an awesome opportunity to work part-time and from home. We bought a house.

During this time, I would freak out a bit inside when we would spend money on recreational things. I couldn’t fully enjoy it, as I felt any unnecessary purchase was pushing my dream of parenthood further and further away.

But now, I am starting to see things a bit differently. We received a tax refund this year, and anticipate another next year. Together, these refunds could pay for 3 fertility treatments, or put us 1/3 of the way towards having enough money for adoption. It’s possible this money could be what I need to begin my family.

But then I look at Ryan and all he has done for me, and for us. We will be married 10 years next year and, in all that time, we have never taken a ‘real’ vacation. We haven’t flown somewhere new or gone on an adventure. Over the last 10 years we have had ups and downs and everything in between. We’ve worked hard and accomplished much. Where’s the reward? What about us?

I have spent so much time and energy trying to ‘start’ a family, I nearly forgot about the family I already had. Yes, Ryan and I are a family and (someday) when the kids are grown and gone, it will just be us again. We were a family first. Having a baby doesn’t make a family, it just adds to it.

I have decided that we should use that money to take a fun and romantic vacation, just Ryan and I. By the time we go (next year), we will have gotten ourselves in financial order. Once we return, it is back to the task at hand: beginning our forever family. I plan to jump head first into the baby world and I have faith in the process. Should pregnancy happen while we wait, then that is wonderful. If not, we will always have the memories of this vacation to look back on.

I don’t know what the future holds. Perhaps sometimes you need to forget the plan. There is a lot I am unsure of. What I do know is we will have our family someday.

But, in the meantime, I choose us.

Dreams and Signs

You would think that since I have been living, thinking, breathing baby over the past 6 years, I would have had many dreams about pregnancy and motherhood. Surprisingly, I haven't.

I remember the only time I have dreamed about children. It was 2004 and we had been trying to conceive for about 6 months. I had a really vivid dream where I was a mother to a newborn baby boy. It felt so real, that I shot up in bed and looked around for him when I woke up. I remember thinking how strange it was that I dreamed of a boy, as I have always thought my first baby would be a girl.

Since that time, I haven't dreamed about anything parenthood. In the last two years, I haven't dreamed much at all. I'm not sure why, but over the last few months, I have begun dreaming again; many, many dreams.

Last night, I dreamt again about a little boy. This time, he was about a year old. I was laying on the floor and he crawled on top of me. He grabbed my shirt at the shoulders with his pudgy little hands and hugged me, resting his head on my upper chest.

I remember what I felt at that moment: a pure sense of joy. The kind of joy I haven't felt in a long time. Pure happiness.

I wasn't sad when I woke up, just wistful. But I dismissed the dream quickly, got ready for the day and headed to church.

In church this morning, the speakers spoke about signs. One thing that was said today was that signs are not to give you faith, but to reward the faithful. You can't demand a sign from God to prove Himself to you, but He can choose to reach out and touch you, if He sees fit. As they talked, my thoughts wandered to my dream.

I am not saying my dream was a sign. What I do think is that instead of dismissing it, I should take it as a tender mercy from God. It was a glimpse of what may be in store for me someday. When you've spent the last 6 years climbing the mountain of infertility, it's sometimes nice to see what might be waiting for you on the other side.

In Pursuit of Happiness

In January 2009, Ryan snapped this picture of me in a hotel room in Costa Mesa. He was in a two-week training course for work and I had come down to visit him. I like this picture because I think it's a fun close-up. I have used it for various 'profile pics' and the like.

But there is an interesting aspect about this picture that only I think about when I see it. These eyes contained a lot of pain. This picture was taken days before I finally sought help from my doctor. During the trip to see Ryan, I didn't really want to leave the hotel room. Here we were together in beautiful SoCal, all expenses paid, and I felt most comfortable in bed in a tiny, dark hotel room. I spent an entire night of the trip crying next to him while he slept. And I mean an entire night. Although I was pleasant towards him, I was miserable inside.

Months have passed since that time.

Recently, a dear friend and up-and-coming photographer, Isa Sabey offered to take some pictures of us. We hadn't had someone do that for us in years. Here is one of the pictures:

This shot is one of those 'candid' ones Isa snapped when we were laughing at something or other (probably at how awkward we felt having our picture taken).

When I look at this picture, I see a woman who is happy. It has been said that the 'eyes are the window to the soul'. Well, to me, I can see a sparkle in these eyes that has been missing for a long time.

People say a result of seeking help for depression is that you feel like yourself again. Over these five years of dealing with infertility, I had forgotten who I was. I feel like the Michelle from years past. I actually like myself again.

In high school, I was told that I 'always have a smile'. My drama teacher would laugh at me because, even in the most dramatic scene, my eyes were always twinkling. She said, no matter what my face was doing, it was impossible for me not to look happy.

I wouldn't say I'm at that point yet, but I am getting there. I find myself excited about life.

Two days ago, I bought myself a designer purse. The significance of that? Well, for years I have told everyone how much I hated shopping. I don't remember the last time I bought myself something nice. I would go clothes shopping, but refuse to try anything on. Looking back, I realize I didn't really like myself. Not only that, but anytime I (or Ryan for that matter) would purchase something, I would feel that it was pushing my dream of motherhood that much further away. I allowed myself no joy in treating myself unless it was directly related to my goal. The only exception was food. Food was now my comfort.

How things have changed! I find joy in so many things now, including the occasional purchase of something nice just for me. Many people talk about 'retail therapy', but it turns out I only like to treat myself when I feel good.

I could go on and on with the changes happening around here. I could talk about the many times I have turned to Ryan in amazement and said, "I just feel so happy". I can say that I have gone from crying several times per day, to twice in 2 months, and both of those were spiritually related.

The point is that now I feel I can see infertility for what it is, a hard and difficult trial that I pray everyday will have a resolution soon. But, regardless, infertility doesn't define me anymore.

I am a member of the LDS church. I love to cook and bake new things. I like to write. I am learning to be a financial planner and have the best co-workers in the world. Autumn is my favorite season. I work with the teenage girls at church and love it. My favorite smells are the mountains, chopped cilantro, and freshly baked cookies. I like to go camping and visit big cities. I love my kitties and talk to them like they are people. I like the color green, but I don't look good wearing it. I am a wife, daughter, sister, aunt and friend, who longs to also add "mother" to that resume someday.

I still feel sadness when I think of our empty house. I still have days where I don't want to talk about babies or pregnancy or adoption. I still hear the ticking clock in the background and hope I can start my family before it's "too late" (whatever that means).

But I also feel happy. Every day is a pursuit of happiness now. And most days I am winning.