I believe in the Sun even when it's not shining,
I believe in Love even when I don't feel it,
I believe in God even when He is silent.
~Author Unknown
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Missing Motherhood
Is it possible to miss someone you’ve never met?
Since I was a child myself, I knew I wanted to be a mom. When I would write in my diary at night, I would end with a little note to my future children. I figured someday, they would read my little passages and when they saw them, they would know how much I wanted to be their mom, even as a child. I thought that would make them feel special.
I believe that anyone who has lived or will live on the Earth has a spirit. Our spirit did not begin with our physical birth. Some spirits have lived on Earth already and have died and are now spirits in heaven. Others are on the Earth right now and their spirits are housed inside mortal bodies. I also believe that there are others who have not lived on the Earth yet, but are nevertheless spirits anticipating coming to Earth at their appointed time. My children are in this third category.
In other words, at one point, I knew those spirits who would be my children here on Earth. I would have to have known them, as at one time, I was only a spirit as well. I know it sounds odd, but I believe this to be true. It is a major foundational belief of my religious affiliation.
For years, I have tried to pinpoint my heartache at falling short of motherhood. Do I long to hold, nurture, and care for a child? Yes. But there is something more. Some sort of emptiness. Then, quite recently, it dawned on me. I miss them.
I have no idea who they are or what they will look like, but still I miss them. I want to see them. I want to tuck them in and kiss their scraped knees. I want to teach them and learn from them. I want to help them with science projects and watch them goof around with their dad. I want to harass them about their grades and send them to the prom. I want to help them pick a college and see them become parents themselves. They are not simply "furture potential children", but they are real people to me; and I want them here with me.
Many nights Ryan works. The house is quiet and everything is still. This is when I miss them the most. The other day, I heard a song. I am pretty sure the message I took away was not what the artist intended, but what makes music so great is that it can mean different things to different people. Here is a bit of the lyrics:
Everything I know, and anywhere I go
It gets hard but it wont take away my love
And when the last one falls
When it's all said and done
It gets hard but it wont take away my love
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight its only you and me
This song made me cry. There are so many times, when the chaos of the day is settling down, I am left with me and my thoughts. Inevitably, they always turn to the same thing. I’m here without my baby.
So, again I ask, is it possible to miss someone you’ve never met?
Since I was a child myself, I knew I wanted to be a mom. When I would write in my diary at night, I would end with a little note to my future children. I figured someday, they would read my little passages and when they saw them, they would know how much I wanted to be their mom, even as a child. I thought that would make them feel special.
I believe that anyone who has lived or will live on the Earth has a spirit. Our spirit did not begin with our physical birth. Some spirits have lived on Earth already and have died and are now spirits in heaven. Others are on the Earth right now and their spirits are housed inside mortal bodies. I also believe that there are others who have not lived on the Earth yet, but are nevertheless spirits anticipating coming to Earth at their appointed time. My children are in this third category.
In other words, at one point, I knew those spirits who would be my children here on Earth. I would have to have known them, as at one time, I was only a spirit as well. I know it sounds odd, but I believe this to be true. It is a major foundational belief of my religious affiliation.
For years, I have tried to pinpoint my heartache at falling short of motherhood. Do I long to hold, nurture, and care for a child? Yes. But there is something more. Some sort of emptiness. Then, quite recently, it dawned on me. I miss them.
I have no idea who they are or what they will look like, but still I miss them. I want to see them. I want to tuck them in and kiss their scraped knees. I want to teach them and learn from them. I want to help them with science projects and watch them goof around with their dad. I want to harass them about their grades and send them to the prom. I want to help them pick a college and see them become parents themselves. They are not simply "furture potential children", but they are real people to me; and I want them here with me.
Many nights Ryan works. The house is quiet and everything is still. This is when I miss them the most. The other day, I heard a song. I am pretty sure the message I took away was not what the artist intended, but what makes music so great is that it can mean different things to different people. Here is a bit of the lyrics:
Everything I know, and anywhere I go
It gets hard but it wont take away my love
And when the last one falls
When it's all said and done
It gets hard but it wont take away my love
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight its only you and me
This song made me cry. There are so many times, when the chaos of the day is settling down, I am left with me and my thoughts. Inevitably, they always turn to the same thing. I’m here without my baby.
So, again I ask, is it possible to miss someone you’ve never met?
Monday, October 22, 2007
I am blessed.
It has come across my mind over the past week, how blessed I truly am. Let me explain…
A woman with infertility looks at another woman and thinks, "She is so blessed to be able to have children with no difficulty! I would give anything to have that blessing!"
But a different woman might look at her and say, “She is so blessed to have insurance that helps her pay for fertility procedures! I would give anything to have that blessing!”
Meanwhile, someone may look at that woman and say, “She is so blessed to have the opportunity to try so many fertility procedures, even though she has to pay for them! I have been told my husband and I will never have children. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
At the same time, someone may look at that person and say, “Wow. She is so blessed to have such a wonderful husband. I recently lost my husband. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
But, someone may look at her and say, “She was so blessed to have that time with her husband. My life has been great, but I never found someone to share my life with. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
And at that same moment, someone else would look at her and say, “She is so blessed to be healthy. I am very sick and may never recover. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
Do you see where I am going with this? It seems like no matter who you are or what your circumstances, there is someone out there who would call you “blessed”. And so I am saving everyone the trouble and I am trying each day to give that label to myself.
Is there heartbreak? Yes. Are there trials? Oh, yeah. But am I still blessed? You better believe it! And so are you…
A woman with infertility looks at another woman and thinks, "She is so blessed to be able to have children with no difficulty! I would give anything to have that blessing!"
But a different woman might look at her and say, “She is so blessed to have insurance that helps her pay for fertility procedures! I would give anything to have that blessing!”
Meanwhile, someone may look at that woman and say, “She is so blessed to have the opportunity to try so many fertility procedures, even though she has to pay for them! I have been told my husband and I will never have children. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
At the same time, someone may look at that person and say, “Wow. She is so blessed to have such a wonderful husband. I recently lost my husband. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
But, someone may look at her and say, “She was so blessed to have that time with her husband. My life has been great, but I never found someone to share my life with. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
And at that same moment, someone else would look at her and say, “She is so blessed to be healthy. I am very sick and may never recover. I would give anything to have that blessing!”
Do you see where I am going with this? It seems like no matter who you are or what your circumstances, there is someone out there who would call you “blessed”. And so I am saving everyone the trouble and I am trying each day to give that label to myself.
Is there heartbreak? Yes. Are there trials? Oh, yeah. But am I still blessed? You better believe it! And so are you…
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Feline Therapy
For years, I have wanted a cat. I always talked myself out of getting one, thinking I would soon be pregnant. For one, I am allergic to cats and besides that there are all kinds of issues with pregnancy and cats, dealing with the litter box and toxicity.
So as the years passed by, I put off a lot of things, thinking I would be pregnant soon and my life would change. Little by little, as I realized the possibility of pregnancy in the near future was fading away, I slowly began doing those things I had been waiting on, except for getting a cat.
One morning, three months ago, I woke up and decided this was the day. I called about an ad in the local paper about a litter of kittens and made plans to go pick one up. I stopped by PetsMart in Clovis to get some supplies. As I walked into the store, I noticed the cages on the side wall. In one cage was this 3 month old black kitten. I went up to the plastic window and put my hand on it. The kitten immediately began to bat at the window. I found an employee and they took me in the back. When they handed me the kitten, he looked up at me, placed his paws on my cheeks, and put his nose on my face. His name was "B.A." and I knew he was mine.
I got all the supplies needed, filled out the Madera SPCA paperwork, and drove him home. I called the gentleman who had placed the ad in the paper and told him I wouldn't be coming after all. I had already found our new "baby".
His name is Cosmo ("Cosmic Creepers") and he is a feisty and strong headed kitten with quite a personality. When I come home at night, he comes running. When I get up in the morning, he can't wait to play. He lets me hold him for as long as I want, even when I can tell he is tired of it. I used to think it was kind-of strange when people would talk about pets like family, but now I think I understand.
Three months ago, I rescued him from the shelter. But, since that time, I feel that in his own way he has rescued me too. When you have infertility, one of the most empty and lonely feelings is that you have no one to nurture, no one to care for. And that's all you desire in the world. I realize that Cosmo is just a cat, but it makes a difference to know that I am important to him and he depends on me. It hasn't lessened my desire for a child of my own, but it has softened the heartache a bit.
When it rains, it pours... and I can't find my umbrella.
Over the last few months, medical billing statements have arrived as a result of my recent surgery last June. Adding up the charges, it seemed I would end up paying about $400 for the surgery out-of-pocket. I was pretty satisfied, as the surgery was the first fertility "treatment" which my insurance would participate in paying.
Yesterday, I picked up my mail only to find a "love letter" from Clovis Community Hospital. Seems I will actually be paying about $2500 out-of-pocket for the surgery.
Now, I have been told by some people that "money is no object - we would pay whatever we needed to have a child". This is all very noble and good, but until you have been in my position, you have no idea what it is like when the only thing preventing you from reaching for your dream is money.
What started out as a desperate attempt to find out the reason I have not been able to conceive a child has now turned into the most expensive fertility "treatment" I have paid (am paying) for thus far.
Even though I would like to tell myself that the surgery was a mistake, I know that if it had turned out differently, I would have called it the best decision I could have made.
It's all a gamble. This is just the game we pay when we are lucky enough to not only be "infertile", but have health insurance that doesn't see that as a problem worth paying for. Along with the heartbreak of infertility, we get to be slapped in the face on a regular basis by the reality that all this costs money.
When will I be able to pursue agressive fertility treatments? Well, I refuse to miss out on parenthood over something as futile as money. This unexpected bump will not be a road block. It has slowed us down, but will not crush us. It will take some time, but Clovis Community Hospital will get their money. And then we'll move on from there...
Yesterday, I picked up my mail only to find a "love letter" from Clovis Community Hospital. Seems I will actually be paying about $2500 out-of-pocket for the surgery.
Now, I have been told by some people that "money is no object - we would pay whatever we needed to have a child". This is all very noble and good, but until you have been in my position, you have no idea what it is like when the only thing preventing you from reaching for your dream is money.
What started out as a desperate attempt to find out the reason I have not been able to conceive a child has now turned into the most expensive fertility "treatment" I have paid (am paying) for thus far.
Even though I would like to tell myself that the surgery was a mistake, I know that if it had turned out differently, I would have called it the best decision I could have made.
It's all a gamble. This is just the game we pay when we are lucky enough to not only be "infertile", but have health insurance that doesn't see that as a problem worth paying for. Along with the heartbreak of infertility, we get to be slapped in the face on a regular basis by the reality that all this costs money.
When will I be able to pursue agressive fertility treatments? Well, I refuse to miss out on parenthood over something as futile as money. This unexpected bump will not be a road block. It has slowed us down, but will not crush us. It will take some time, but Clovis Community Hospital will get their money. And then we'll move on from there...
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Infertility: Year 4
I decided to document Year 4 with a slideshow. Think of it as this last year summed up into 3 minutes! After the first few slides, there is music, so make sure your speakers are on! :)
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Graduation: I now have a Bachelor’s Degree in Reproductive Science!
FOUR years ago this month, I threw away my birth control pills for good. Why not? I was nine months from graduation at Long Beach State and I wanted nothing more than to receive my degree in psychology moments before I stepped into the world of motherhood.
It was all planned perfectly. I would have my degree, my sign to the world that I accomplished something great for myself, and then become a mother, my sign to myself that I hadn’t forgotten the true measure of my creation.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was embarking on another kind of education… a second Bachelor’s of sorts. Unlike my psychology degree, this course of study would test me physically, emotionally, and spiritually in a way public education never could.
There were many things to learn and skills to acquire. Some of my minor degrees have been:
Anatomy (I could map the human reproductive system blindfolded)
Pharmacology (expert on Clomid vs. Gonal-f)
Human relations (inventive answers to the unintentionally insensitive questions I’m asked)
Performing arts (acting like the aforementioned questions don’t bother me)
Accounting (creative ways to scrape together fertility treatment money)
Psychology (talking myself into functioning normally when all I want to do is climb in to bed, pull the covers over my head, and disappear)
I have also worked to improve my patience, optimism, hopefulness, and compassion. I haven’t always received an “A” in these subjects, but I continue to try.
It’s been a struggle. Sometimes I would be flooded with understanding and confidence and other times I would feel like a shell of a person, completely empty inside. One minute I would feel a great appreciation for my many blessings and the next minute, for the first time in my life, I would be angry at God.
So, I have my Bachelor’s Degree, now what? Well, my education is not over. The question is where will it lead me from here? Is it time to specialize in aggressive reproductive technologies? At which point do I cut my losses, switch majors, and study adoption? When do I give up the dream of wearing my own version of the cap and gown: cruising through the baby department rather than avoiding it, picking out nursery colors, fantasizing about holding little “Jack” or “Katelyn”?
My feelings are much different now than when I obtained my psychology degree. There is not as much pride or sense of accomplishment with this milestone. Mostly, it’s just sadness. Sadness for myself, sadness for time lost, just sadness. But, even so, it is a milestone in this journey we call life and as such, I feel it deserves acknowledgement, as painful as that may be.
It was all planned perfectly. I would have my degree, my sign to the world that I accomplished something great for myself, and then become a mother, my sign to myself that I hadn’t forgotten the true measure of my creation.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was embarking on another kind of education… a second Bachelor’s of sorts. Unlike my psychology degree, this course of study would test me physically, emotionally, and spiritually in a way public education never could.
There were many things to learn and skills to acquire. Some of my minor degrees have been:
Anatomy (I could map the human reproductive system blindfolded)
Pharmacology (expert on Clomid vs. Gonal-f)
Human relations (inventive answers to the unintentionally insensitive questions I’m asked)
Performing arts (acting like the aforementioned questions don’t bother me)
Accounting (creative ways to scrape together fertility treatment money)
Psychology (talking myself into functioning normally when all I want to do is climb in to bed, pull the covers over my head, and disappear)
I have also worked to improve my patience, optimism, hopefulness, and compassion. I haven’t always received an “A” in these subjects, but I continue to try.
It’s been a struggle. Sometimes I would be flooded with understanding and confidence and other times I would feel like a shell of a person, completely empty inside. One minute I would feel a great appreciation for my many blessings and the next minute, for the first time in my life, I would be angry at God.
So, I have my Bachelor’s Degree, now what? Well, my education is not over. The question is where will it lead me from here? Is it time to specialize in aggressive reproductive technologies? At which point do I cut my losses, switch majors, and study adoption? When do I give up the dream of wearing my own version of the cap and gown: cruising through the baby department rather than avoiding it, picking out nursery colors, fantasizing about holding little “Jack” or “Katelyn”?
My feelings are much different now than when I obtained my psychology degree. There is not as much pride or sense of accomplishment with this milestone. Mostly, it’s just sadness. Sadness for myself, sadness for time lost, just sadness. But, even so, it is a milestone in this journey we call life and as such, I feel it deserves acknowledgement, as painful as that may be.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Day One and We're Stalled...
Today is Day One. While there's no surprise that the "natural method" once again yielded no results, the surprise lies in the fact that our progress has stalled. Sigh...
The plan was to call the Doctor's office tomorrow, have a preliminary ultrasound, and start the shot treatments. However, recently Ryan has been struggling in his police training. While he's determined not to quit, his career is feeling less than stable to me at the moment. Although I have the money saved up for the first round of shots, I think it would be irresponsible to aggressively pursue getting pregnant when I am feeling so unsure about the status of our future finances. When the day finally comes that I do get pregnant, I want to feel joy and gratitude, not stress and worry that I will not be able to give my baby everything she needs.
Even though I am incredibly disappointed, I feel comfortable with this decision. I feel proud that I am making the responsible choice and not the selfish one that I wish I could make. Good mothers put their children's interest before their own. I guess it's never too early to start.
The plan was to call the Doctor's office tomorrow, have a preliminary ultrasound, and start the shot treatments. However, recently Ryan has been struggling in his police training. While he's determined not to quit, his career is feeling less than stable to me at the moment. Although I have the money saved up for the first round of shots, I think it would be irresponsible to aggressively pursue getting pregnant when I am feeling so unsure about the status of our future finances. When the day finally comes that I do get pregnant, I want to feel joy and gratitude, not stress and worry that I will not be able to give my baby everything she needs.
Even though I am incredibly disappointed, I feel comfortable with this decision. I feel proud that I am making the responsible choice and not the selfish one that I wish I could make. Good mothers put their children's interest before their own. I guess it's never too early to start.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
