WomanFromMars

Closing the Door on an Unfortunate Year

2006-12-31T10:40:00.000-06:00

We've come full circle. A year ago today, I sat here and typed a good riddance to 2005. Little did I know that 2006 would become the worst year of my life. At least, the worst year yet.

In my last entry, I was about to undergo a D&C. That was only one of a series of unfortunate events that consumed the latter months of '06.

The same day I wrote my last post, my mom called with news that my dad had fallen and was so weak he had to be hospitalized. It was the beginning of the end for him, and ended up being the last day he would ever be in his own home. He spent the next couple of months going between the hospital and a nursing home. The end came for him 11 weeks later, when he died at 12:25 a.m. on Friday, Oct. 20.

But, that was not the only unfortunate event in the second half of my 2006. My husband (unsuccessfully) attempted to have an affair with a neighbor. This happened on Sept. 11, a date that all of us remember for obvious reasons, but now I have an extra reason that this day will live in infamy in my memory. Maybe I'll post more about this incident and why I believe he did what he did some day, but for the moment, suffice it to say that for various reasons, I have forgiven him. It boils down to the fact that I need him in my life too much. And to be honest, I can sort of relate to why he did what he did. Still, there's a wound in my heart that hasn't entirely healed and maybe never will.

Another unfortunate event that closed 2006: My dad's illness and death accelerated mental problems my mom had been having, related to dementia and anxiety. It's become clear that she can no longer live on her own. She's still living in her remote and rural town, 600 miles away from me, but in the residential care facility connected with the nursing home my dad was in. As much as she wants to go back to her house and believes she will do just that soon, she has to stay in some sort of assisted living situation. And for the time being, that situation is the residential care facility. It's not a perfect solution, but for now it will have to do while I explore other options. No, one of those options does NOT include having her move in with us. But now I find myself in the position of the parent and she is the child, while I manage her affairs long distance.

We also had some minor health scares with both of my in-laws. In comparison, nothing serious, and if they keep going like they're going, they will continue to live healthy for years to come. But I know what we went through with my dad is something we'll have to go through three more times. I suppose we've been fortunate to have had all four of our parents for as long as we did...most people our age lost at least one of their parents and/or in-laws years earlier...but it was stressful enough that I hope we don't go through this again any time soon.

And of course, there was my miscarriage that contributed to the foul nature of the year as well. I'm trying to recall those feelings of why I didn't want kids all those years so that I may never again feel longings to be a parent. I'm not a religious person. If I was, I might be tempted to say that a higher power has given me my mom to care for instead of a baby. Because I'm not religious, we won't even go there.

I could say that I have my job and my health to be thankful for. Except there are issues in both of those camps as well. Earlier this month, my company announced the cuts of 120 jobs. Mine wasn't one of them, but I can envision a scenario down the road in which I could be eliminated. My husband wants me to get my resume out there now, but after close to two decades with the same company, I have benefits of longevity on the job that would be difficult to give up. I get almost five weeks of vacation a year...I don't think I could ever go back to just two or three, at least not until I had to by force. Even more importantly, I feel the position I have right now truly is the right fit for me. The thought of moving on is difficult.

And as for my health, I had an inner ear problem that plagued me from late October until just a couple of weeks ago. It's possible it was even a psychomatic reaction to all the stress I faced from August onward. But now that that has cleared up, I find myself with different problems in the form of aches and pains in my joints and muscles that are making me wonder what else is going on in my body that could be a sign of serious illness. It could be the onset of arthristis, but it's seemed to come on so suddenly. Hopefully nothing more than additional psychomatic stress reactions, but this will bear watching over the next several weeks.

So, that was my Horrible 2006 in Review. I opened this posting by saying it was my worst year yet. I think I've come to understand that after a certain age, we no longer have long runs of time where everything is wonderful, followed by brief bursts of misery. I think misery becomes more frequent and expected, and the sign of maturity is being able to take it as it gets dished out. The interesting thing about my father's passing is that it gave me something tangile to be sad about, and everyone around me expected me to be sad. It was kind of freeing in a way, this opportunity for public sadness.

So, on this New Year's Eve, I do not close the door on an awful year with the optimism that next year will be so much better. No, I close the door on an awful year, and open the door to 2007 with the wisdom that I (hope I) will be able to muster the strength to tackle what lies ahead. It may not be pretty, but it will be what it is.

While I Was Away...

2006-08-13T12:51:00.000-05:00

We haven't had a working PC in the house since the first of July. Makes it difficult to be a good blogger. But now I have a laptop and free wi-fi, courtesy of our public library.

An interesting thing happened about the same time we lost use of our computer:
I found myself unexpectedly, but joyously, pregnant at age 44.

It seemed like it might actually go well this time. An ultrasound at 6 weeks showed that this definitely would not be a blighted ovum, meaning I got further along this time than I ever had before. Hubby and I dared to get a little hopeful.

The next sonogram, 10 days later, made our hope premature. No heartbeat was found. Although the doctor was neither encouraged nor encouraging, my hCG levels were still increasing nicely so he said to give it one more week.

Unfortunately, the ultrasound last Monday revealed NO heartbeat, NO fetal pole and a yolk sac that appeared to be distintegrating.

My D&C is scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning.

They let me wait a week before the procedure. You see, we had out-of-town houseguests: my husband's parents. We didn't want to let them know what was going on. They are very, very religious in a born-again christian kind of way. I am anything but religious. Agnostic that I am, I knew I would not be able to take their "god's will" approach. The last thing I want is for someone to be praying for me and my dead baby around the dinner table.

An interesting side note related to their being here: it's been a distraction that has kept me from feeling sad about this. I thought at first, it would be difficult to put on m "happy face" for the duration of their visit. But, I truly haven't had time to sit around and feel sad. They departed earlier and my husband is at work. But, I'm too busy cleaning up the house, and now figuring out this new laptop, to think much about it.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Will it hit me full-force then? When my hormone levels crash, will it hit me head-on? Or am I numb, beyond feeling the pain?

Ouch!

2006-06-18T15:53:00.000-05:00

It's time to share this week's Top 5 Cutting Remarks

#5 Top Cutting Remark of the Week
A newspaper article about the travel trend being called the "babymoon" that went something like this: "Once the territory of honeymooners, empty-nesters and those otherwise unencumbered by little ones, tropical travel destinations are finding a new - unexpected - market: expectant parents."
Me: "The one thing we infertiles had was the ability to follow our wanderlust at will. Now the breeders want to claim that, too."

#4 Top Cutting Remark of the Week
Hubby's Coworker to me: "I hear you guys had a great trip to Spain. You know, you wouldn't be able to go places like that if you'd decided to have kids."
Me: "Um, yeah."

#3 Top Cutting Remark of the Week
Hubby to sister-in-law (visiting from their new home out of state): "Now that you're settled into your new house, are you giving any thought to having kids?"
Sister-in-law: "Are you kidding? I'm 40 now. It's much too late for that!"

#2 Top Cutting Remark of the Week:
Hubby to me: "So what are you getting me for Father's Day?"
Me: (Silence accompanied by glaring look)
Hubby: Oh…sorry.

And the #1 Top Cutting Remark of the Week:
Hubby: "We really should have tried 10 years ago."

Happy father's day, ya know?

Not just talking to myself!

2006-06-11T11:48:00.000-05:00

OMG, I have readers!

When I started this blog, I didn't do much to get other people to read it. Therefore, I didn't think anyone was really out there reading. Thinking I was only talking to myself, I felt unmotivated to post very often.

I just cleaned out my cookies, and came over to my blog to discover...someone has been reading after all!

To Patricia, Avonlea, Donna, Inspring - I'm sorry I never acknowledged any of your comments. I just today discovered them on my blog. I will catch up to each of you eventually, once I stop by your own blogs to learn a little about each of you.

And now, I think I'll start posting more, now that I know I'm not just talking to myself!

Mother's Day

2006-05-14T10:14:00.000-05:00

I'm really sad today. I should not be.

My mother is still living, and for that I should be rejoicing, and I am. Granted, she lives almost 700 miles away and I can't be with her today, but I haven't been able to spend a Mother's Day with her for over 20 years.

My mother-in-law is still living. She's even farther away, and we haven't seen her for Mother's Day in probably 15 years, either. But, as mothers-in-law go, she's a pretty good one and I should be happy today that she raised her son to be the good man he is, and that she is the good woman she is.

And I'm not a mother today. But, I haven't been a mother for 44 years. I should be used to the non-event feeling of this "holiday" by now.

But, having finally given up on trying to conceive just a month ago, there's a fresh wound that's bleeding within my heart today.

No fool like an old fool

2006-04-25T07:08:00.000-05:00

On April Fools' Day, I stopped fooling myself.

That's the day I declared I've put trying to conceive behind me. It was really more of a reality check than anything else. After all, I could keep trying and hope to be one of those women you hear about who have healthy babies at age 45 (or beyond). But for every one of those, there are perhaps thousands of women who aren't conceiving (whether they want to or not) even though they are having unprotected sex at the right time of the month.

What it came down to is that the monthly two-week-wait was taking away any feeling I had of being carefree in my life. The wondering, the waiting, the being careful not to have alcohol or to lift anything too heavy or exercise too hard. I had stopped living my life to enjoy it, and found myself in a constant state of trying to achieve a goal that has huge odds stacked against me. I just couldn't bear the burden any longer of that two-week-wait that inevitably ends in disappointment each month. And if I actually were to end up pregnant, then I'd just be facing a new set of fears and anxieties over the pregnancy itself. And if I managed to actually pull off a successful pregnancy, then there would be all the fears and anxieties over raising a child. Talk about losing the ability to be carefree!

Of course, I'm not foolish enough to think this is all it will take to be truly carefree. In reality, an adult's life is never truly carefree. But perhaps I can use this mental energy toward a goal that I can actually achieve.

Today I am entering my first "fertile" period since April 1. Will I be able to ignore the drive to "TTC"? Who knows - but who cares? One thing I will NOT do regardless of what happens is live the next two weeks for anyone but ME.

Paying it forward still not easy decision

2006-03-12T08:32:00.000-06:00

I myself am an adoptee. You would think that it would be an easy decision for me to want to adopt myself. You know, pay it forward, so to speak. But, it's something I just don't feel driven to do. My husband would not have a problem with adopting, but me -- the adoptee -- would. Go figure. It's hard to put my finger on why, but here are some of the reasons I've come up with so far. Feel free to poke holes in any or all of them.

1.) At age 44, I'm starting to get the usual aches and pains in my ankles, knees and shoulders. By the time an adoption would be finalized, I'm not sure I would be able to go right to picking up a 15-20 lb. child and carrying her around without hurting myself. At least if I had a newborn, I would be starting with about 8 lbs. and gradually working up to the weight as the child grew. Is it true that at my age, one is just too old to be a new parent?

2.) There's no question that both Hubby and I would have to continue working full time and our child would have to be in daycare for about 10 hours a day. I wouldn't feel right about going through everything needed to complete an adoption and then just putting the kid in a daycare setting for up to 50 hours a week. And what would this do with regards to the attachment issues you sometimes hear about with international adoptions?

3.) Although I don't believe in a god who controls fate and influences outcomes, I do wonder if there are some people who just aren't meant to be parents. And if that plan might not include Hubby and I. I think about my own parents, who lovingly adopted me and certainly did the best they could. But my mom has had life-long anxiety problems. My dad is an alcoholic. They weren't horrible parents, but often I wonder if their fertility issues (issues that would be so easily solved in this day and age) were part of some Master Plan in the cosmos that were meant to keep them from raising children. Maybe Hubby and I are in that part of the Master Plan, too. Which is a good segue into my next point...

4.) For so many years, I wanted nothing to do with the idea of having kids. So shouldn't I face the fact that I made my true choice early on and live with that decision? In other words, I made my bed, now it's time to lie in it.

5.) Trying to get and stay pregnant has been an emotional roller coaster. So tired...I'm ready to get off this ride. I'm not sure I could handle getting on a different roller coaster right now. From some of the blogs I've been reading, the adoption roller coaster sounds even worse than the infertility roller coaster. I just don't think I have the emotional strength for that right now. Don't know if I ever will.

Too tired, even, to go on further. In anyone knows how to poke sufficient holes in the above arguments, I'm open to hearing them.

A Bit of Hystery

2006-01-21T12:32:00.000-06:00

Okay, so I haven't posted too much to this blog. It's definitely off to a slow start. Part of the problem is I don't feel like posting if I don't think anyone else is reading. I may start sharing this with people, people who don't know me. But to make it relevant, I feel a need to share a bit of my hystery...er, history.

Prior to 2003: I didn't want kids. Hubby didn't want kids. We traveled, I completed an MBA degree and climbed to the position I wanted at work, and we both enjoyed our independence. Life was good.

Children just didn't have a place in my life. None of our good friends had any, and except for a niece 2,000 miles away with whom we don't have much contact, there were no children in our families, either.

Feb. 1, 2003: I slipped on some ice in the driveway and broke my wrist. This was the same day the space shuttle disintegrated upon reentry...kind of a sucky day all around, you could say.

As it turned out, that fall on the ice became a pivotal moment for me. When I got the cast off about 6 weeks later and had this limb that didn't work so well, it left me with a vague feeling of depression and a hyper-awareness of my own aging.

Summer 2003: It became apparent that my dad's health was failing. Both of my parents, at this point in their early 80s, were becoming frail, shells of their former selves. As an only child, and one with no cousins, either, it hit me that I'm it, the end of the line.

On top of all that, I don't deal well with the reality that they really need someone to take care of and nurture them (more about this in another post). Of course, it doesn't help that they live in the middle of nowhere, a nowhere that's over 600 miles away from where I live. It's also a nowhere that feels very foreign to me. I never lived there myself and quite frankly, I don't like it there at all.

I went to visit them that July and it bothered me that I felt unable to nuture them. When I'm with them, I fall into the role of the petulant 15-year-old teenager. I know, very immature. In the back of my mind was the thought that perhaps because I never had kids, I had never learned how to care for others selflessly. I felt bad about that, and still do, because it puts a strain on my relationship with them, but I didn't know how to change my attitude back then, or even now.

The day I returned home from that trip, I returned to the announcement from two of my dearest (and also childless) friends that they were expecting a baby. The news hit me hard, particularly coming on the heels of my time at my parents' house. I was struggling to process this announcement of theirs...you see, I've never been able to stay good friends with people who have become parents. I think it's an inevitable drifting apart that comes from different priorities and having less in common. I wasn't sure how to deal with the realization that these two people, to whom I felt so close in spite of the fact that they live four states away, would be traveling down the parental path. Would we be able to remain friends, or would my closeness to them be reduced to a relationship of merely exchanging cards at the holidays, as had all those other friendships of people who had become parents?

This feeling became even more complicated about six weeks later when other friends, also adamantly child-free, let me in on the secret that they were "trying". (They weren't successful and probably never will be, as they are about 3 years older than we are.)

Fall 2003: That vague sense of the blues I had had since my wrist fracture continued to intensify into a sense of feeling something was missing from my life. After several weeks of introspection and soul searching, I discovered within myself a longing to have a baby. Perhaps that feeling had been lying dormant in me all along, and it took the events of that year to bring it to the surface. I started to research conception over age 40. I stopped taking The Pill, although my doctor had been urging me to stop anyway, because of my age.

Of course, I had to tell my husband what was going on. He was shocked, to put it mildly, after all those years of my so adamantly not wanting kids. At first, he was not on board with this idea. Who could blame him...I had spent months thinking about this, and then dropped it in his lap one October evening.

I can't say exactly what changed his mind. That Thanksgiving, we flew down to see my parents. On the long drive from the airport to their house, we talked about it and I told him I knew I was about to ovulate and felt really fertile. His response: "Let's make it happen!"

Well guess what...the first month we tried, I got pregnant, finding out less than a week before my 42nd birthday. I think both of us were in a state of shock.

That shock was only to last a month or so. To make a long story short, I started having some spotting that turned into light bleeding, got in right away for an ultrasound, was diagnosed with a blighted ovum and on the day of what would have marked my 10th week of pregnancy, when into outpatient surgery for a D&C. The day after tomorrow will be the 2nd anniversary of that day.

At the time, it didn't bother me. In fact, I'm sure the doctor was surprised at my overall demeanor: I was laughing and joking in the recovery room. Part of that is my public approach to difficult situations. When I'm nervous, I crack jokes. But even more, I felt that, having become pregnant on the very first try, I was infinitely fertile and would be successfully pregnant again in no time.

It wasn't quite "no time" but I peed another positive my the end of that summer. This one didn't last too long. I had gone for a bloodtest at my OB/Gyn. They called the next day to say my numbers didn't look too good. By the time I got that phone call, I'd already started bleeding. I had read about chemical pregnancies and the call from the doctor's office only confirmed what I already knew.

This time, it hit me harder. Not only was I now even older, just months away from turning 43, I was frustrated and realized I'm not infinitely fertile after all.

2005: After a few more months of trying, I felt it was time to get ourselves tested to see if we were just wasting our time, or if there was any hope, I got the name of the top reproductive endocrinologist in the area.

I never really intended to start fertility treatments, but it is a slippery slope indeed. All the tests showed us to be healthy, reproductively speaking, even at our ages. My system just needed a little "tweaking". So it was full steam ahead with bloodtests and shots and and pills and transvaginal ultrasounds.

To sum it up, the ensuing months involved five IUIs, the last of which ended in another chemical pregnancy. In polite medical terms, the RE basically told us it was time to "shit or get of the pot" and move on to in vitro.

I wasn't sure I wanted to go there. At best, the odds of success were less than 15%. My insurance covers much of it, but with a deductible that would still cost us a few grand. Even more importantly, I am one of those people who would rather be a quitter than a failure. At odds like that, failure was almost inevitable.

My biggest regret in going forward with IVF in spite of the odds was that I didn't have a good coping strategy for dealing with the failure of the procedure.

That's where I am today. Struggling to cope with the realization that I probably was infinitely fertile at one time, but only during the years that I was too stubborn to admit I'd changed my mind and really did want kids. I have about $300 worth of fertility medication in the fridge, left over from that failed IVF. Not sure what to do with it at this point. Even my RE said it wouldn't cause any harm to try an IUI again, but am I just throwing good money after bad?

I need to come to peace with my reality. It's a struggle, the biggest of my life so far. Meanwhile, my parents are older, even more fraile. I have to take my head out of the sand and deal with that situation, too.

It's a time of emotional weakness when I so badly need emotional strength.

Good Riddance, 2005

2005-12-30T12:45:00.000-06:00

So how many other bloggers are writing something with a similar theme today? I suspect the majority of us are blogging because of some sort of unresolved angst, whatever the cause. And that angst makes me anxious to move on to the new year.

At the stroke of midnight, I am closing the door on the Year of the Infertility Treatment. Appropriate, because I got myself into all this thanks to my 2005 resolution to figure out if we were just wasting our time trying to get/stay pregnant. I never really intended to get on the emotional roller coaster that is fertility treatments, but I did and now I'm facing the consequences, the emotional fallout, of being unsuccessful. I'm 44 now...it's ridiculous to think of continuing. What I've learned from this is that I should have stuck to the conviction I had all those years that childfree was the right thing for me. It was the act of changing my mind that took me into this minefield of regrets.

No, it's NOT better to have loved and lost...

What means this, "Woman from Mars"?

2005-12-28T09:43:00.000-06:00

It's an awkward moment: I have to decide if I'm writing this blog just for myself, as a kind of electronic diary, or if I make the leap and figure someone who doesn't know me will read it and be in need of some background information.

But if this is nothing more than an electronic diary, why am I even putting it on the web? I could just as easily keep a journal in Word. I may invite some other folks to read this some day, and there's always a chance someone might stumble onto it.

So...allow me to introduce myself.

I am a woman from Mars...referring, of course, to the Mars/Venus stereotype. I tend to communicate more like what is typically in a "male" style and often have a hard time relating to other women. (Interestingly enough, my husband shows a lot of Venus tendencies himself -- maybe that's why we've been together for 25 years and happily married for 16).

This realization struck me a few months ago when I realized I have very few close female friends, and those who I do feel close to all live in other parts of the country. We communicate primarily, even exclusively, through e-mail. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I have in common with what is stereotypically "female":

I have no children and feel incredibly alienated when others talk about their little darlings (more about this later when I get into posting about fertility/infertility).
I hate shopping. Want to torture me? Make me spend the afternoon wandering from store to store in a mall.
Related to the point above, I don't have much of an interest in fashion, cosmetics, etc.
I am a very private person and don't like talking about myself or my feelings -- but I DO like writing and find I can address my thoughts and feeling through that channel...hence, this blog
I don't follow celebrities and can't relate to celebrity gossip (Jennifer and Brad, or Brad and Angelina, or Jennifer and whoever - who cares!). I can't understand why a lot of women get so wrapped up in this.
Even more than that, I can't understand why a lot of women gossip about each other so unmercilessly. Why do I want to get wrapped up in a group of people who are going to talk about me like that when I'm not present?
I DO like sports -- I love to watch a football game while knocking back a couple of cold brewskis. And it wouldn't be beyond me to enjoy a nice Cuban, either. So put me back on the planet Mars. Or at least let me hang out in front of the TV with the guys, instead of expecting me to be happy in the kitchen with the women.

Well, that's a little bit about me. More to come in future posts.

Double 4's

2005-12-27T07:49:00.000-06:00

A week ago today I turned 44. Getting older never used to bother me, but now I feel so firmly entrenched in middle age. There's just something about that double number 4-4. And no longer being in my "early 40s" but now very in my "middle 40s".

Who am I kidding, every part of this mid-life crisis has to do with age-realted infertility. If I could turn back the clock and live just one thing differently, that's what it would be. Back in the days when I felt I didn't want a child and thought I never would, I never worried about getting older. To the contrary, I was proud of turning 40. Now I feel like something important in life has passed me by, and I can feel the passage of time starting to speed up. It only gets worse from here. At least that's what the old folks tell me.

The Emperor's Old Clothes

2005-12-26T08:07:00.000-06:00

What do you do when someone sends you a gift and you call to thank them...only to learn they sent it as a gag gift because they thought it was hideous?

Our friends T & J moved to a western state a few years ago. We still talk to them often, see them occasionally and exchange gifts at the holidays. So I wasn't surprised when UPS left a package from them a couple of days before Christmas. Inside, we found a set of champagne glasses with really long stems of different colors. The glasses all rest inside a large glass vase so that the effect is that of flowers. I thought it was pretty cool, and T knows I love glassware, especially unusual glassware.

So we talked to them yesterday and I thanked T with much sincerity for the set. His response: "You're kidding, right?" He went on to say that our real gift was a bit delayed but he thought in the meantime, we would get a good laugh out of the long-stemmed glasses that he had received from a business supplier last year and regifted to us as a joke. I told him, no, I really did like them. I think he didn't want to believe me.

At this moment, my feelings about both T and the glassware are a bit tainted.

Woman From Mars

2005-12-24T13:05:00.000-06:00

This is my blog. I don't know if anyone will ever read this besides myself. If you do, you're liable to find entries on the following topics:

Fertility and infertility
Adoption and being adopted
Turning middle-aged
Travel
Relating to friends and family and why this can be difficult for me
Anything I feel like...after all, this is MY blog. But your comments are always welcome. I just can't promise I'll reply to them all the time.

It's Christmas Eve and I should be doing just about anything other than sitting at the PC right now...my first official post will have to come at another time.