Overheard...

I had the privilege of overhearing these "gemstone conversations" at work this week:

1. Girls at Work: "Yes, my sister had her baby this weekend. They're planning to have another one in 2010 because they've had one in 2008 and 2009. Isn't that funny?"

In My Head: Ummm, Ha. Ha. I can't believe people (i.e. bunny rabbits) actually plan this baby thing like planning a vacation or buying a new car and that it actually comes to fruition.

Cannot identify on any level.

2. Girl at Work (who incidentally happens to be aware of my situation): "My husband and I are going to try and start getting pregnant this year. I'm telling you, I don't dread labor and delivery - I dread that first 3 months of pregnancy. I just don't even know how I'll make it through all the morning sickness that my mother had."

In My Head: Ummm, excuse me while I throw up at the grotesque superficiality and naivity of this little gemstone of a comment. This statement is from a girl who is totally aware that I am begging my doctor to allow me to inject my belly with a hormonal cocktail. Need I say more?

Again, cannot identify on any level.

It's amazing how IF has changed my perspective. I suppose these are things I would have laughed at or commented on three years ago. Now, I just shake my head and get the hell out of the room as quickly as possible.

And, if I hear one more thing about the octuplets...

Damn good thing therapy is scheduled for Thursday.

Silver Linings and Ship Jumpers

This weekend, my sisters, mom, aunt and cousin came to help me paint a wall in my home as we are getting ready to put our house on the market. They all know what a stressor this house-selling thing is for me, and they wanted to alleviate as much of my anxiety as possible in hopes of helping with our upcoming IVF cycle.

I marveled at the love I felt at being so "taken care of" by these phenomenal women who support me implicitly.

Over my 34 years (10 of which have been spent in the counseling profession), I've been exposed to many stories of human adversity and the way it often leads to the scattering of so-called friends.

I never believed it, really. The truth is, I never believed it would happen to me, that is.

Until now, I didn't realize that life's storms are often more than some people can handle. I could have never predicted who would earnestly hang with me and who would run for cover (or jump off the Titanic, as my sister puts it so eloquently).

Perhaps the silver lining of these ship-jumpers is the renewed appreciation in those people in your life who continually cheer you on, who listen and who even let you get by with a bad attitude here and there because of the adversity.

So, if you're reading this, thank you. It undoubtedly means that you are part of the silver lining of another otherwise perilous journey.

A Lesson in Self Preservation

I'm going to send my IVF friend a letter explaining my absence as she officially enters the mommyhood. The act of sending this really does go along with the old adage, "This hurts me more than it hurts you." (Ahha!....so this must be what self-preservation feels like).

After a lot of mental anguish, I've decided that being around her negative outlook is not good for me right now, but perhaps with time, we'll be able to be friends again on some other level (i.e. when my life doesn't revolve around Lupron, stims, and IVF cycles).

Maybe. (Needless to say, L. has his doubts about that.)

Here's my letter:

Dear M.,

I hope this finds you all well and very happy.

I'm writing to you because I want to express to you why I can't be more present right now. It is my hope that as my friend, this will all make sense to you and that you will somehow be able to understand my position.

L. & I are experiencing some difficulty with our IVF process, and things aren't going as smoothly as we had hoped. Thus, I've been very down about things and have really been struggling emotionally. All of these things have transpired simultaneously with this joyous event in your life, and it is simply too painful for me right now to be a more present friend.

I know that you might find it difficult to empathize with me, and that you would probably approach things differently. My pain is very real to me, however, and it is my hope that you can stretch your understanding to somehow make sense of this. I hope that you will also recall the times I have been more available and supportive and that this will mean something in the longevity of our relationship.

We pray for you daily,

l.l.

Many of us seem to struggle with self preservation, and I often think that much of the reason IF is happening to me is that I need to learn how to prioritize myself. (After all, there must be a reason for IF that goes beyond an unfortunate biological coincidence!) IF is definitely the most difficult chapter of my life so far, and I am realizing that I have a right to care for myself in the middle of it. We all do.

I suppose the letter will either catalyze the next chapter in this relationship or it will end it.

We'll see.

Green Tea, Moving Mountains and Stuff

My week in rewind:

Monday: Discover staff I supervise is 8 weeks pregnant. This info is through the grapevine, and I'm glad to have it so that when "the announcement" arrives, I can twist my facial expression into one of joy and bliss.

Tuesday: Send flowers to my "IVF friend" who had her bundle of joy 3 weeks early. L. called to give our congratulations, and after much consternation, I have decided to remain on the downlow for the time being. I have written a letter of explanation to her, which I plan to send sometime next week. It's been a difficult decision, but I am hereby avoiding situations which make me anxious and upset. The babyshower was enough.

Wednesday: I celebrated two weeks of no caffeinated lattes with the same thing I've been drinking for the last two weeks: green tea. I still haven't developed a taste for it but am determined to keep trying. My acupuncturist swears by it, and well, you know how I feel about my acupuncturist.

Thursday: I have dinner with friends who are not pregnant, have no children and seem to have no aspirations of getting pregnant. Refreshing.

Friday: I develop horrible cramps on my left side, which I am desperately hoping can be attributed to a cyst which has popped. I arrive at my appointment with Hannah the acupuncturist, and she tells me that if the pain doesn't subside, I may have to call my doctor. However, she proceeds to do some sort of magical treatment which has completely wiped away the cramps. I left there shaking my head, thinking that this woman is some sort of supernatural goddess who would certainly be able to move a mountain. And, even more miraculous, I think she's making my very scientific, modern-science-oriented husband think twice about Eastern medicine.

All in all, the week was long, arduous and grueling...I'm glad it's over. I do want to thank everyone for the ongoing flow of emails, cards, calls, texts and comments. It's amazing how uplifting each demonstration of support can be through this process.

Still waiting for Halloween - hoping to ditch the Lupron and move onto the good stuff (well, relatively speaking, of course).

Responding to "The Question"

So, today I encountered a couple of old work friends I haven't seen in a year or so. We were happily chatting, talking about work, work politics, etc. After about 10 minutes, one of these friends shot the inadvertent dagger, the knife in the heart, the question all of us love to hate:

"So...when are we going to see you pregnant

with your first little one?

I just can't wait to see you with a belly!"

My mind began racing, my heart beating too fast, as I scrambled to formulate the perfect answer. I ultimately stammered out something about L.'s work schedule and the fact that he's just working so much, we haven't had a chance to get around to all of that "kid stuff" yet. However, at that moment (and all afternoon long) I fantasized about what I would have liked to have said:

Looking them both straight in the eye:

1. "Well, actually, I'm going to be shooting myself in the ass with massive needles starting next month. Wanna help?"

2. "Actually, we've been trying to have a child but have just learned that I have no female parts - I'm actually a man." (Okay, this one is actually compliments of a very good friend of mine who suggested that perhaps I should have just told them I'm a hermaphrodite. Thanks, Cheese - I'm still laughing!)

3. "As a matter of fact, we've decided it would be much more fun to watch our baby be conceived in a petrie dish than just plain old sex in the privacy of our own home, so we're starting IVF next month. I'm particularly looking forward to being inspected by my fertility specialist as she tries to figure out how the hell to get me knocked up!"

Of course, I didn't give any of these responses, but I was left wondering why it is that this question is always so difficult to answer. In some ways, I see it as my golden opportunity to educate someone on how painful it is to be asked such an invasive question, but for some reason, I am not remotely confrontive. Honestly, I actually feel a sense of embarrassment that I'm not pregnant yet. I mean, let's get real, I'm 34 years old and have been happily married for 2 years. People are probably thinking that we need to get on with it if we're going to do this.

I'm still working on formulating the perfect response for these sorts of questions from people we don't plan to tell about our IVF experience. However, I'm once again pondering the prospect of putting it out there, just saying - this is what we're doing. Deal with it.

I mean after all, why should I hide the fact that I'm being treated for a medical issue? And, frankly, the fertile people of the world need to take a look at the fact that asking a woman in her 30's when she's going to have a "big belly" is outrageously insensitive. Yes, I realize people think this is a natural subject of small talk, particularly when they have no experience with IF.

But that doesn't mean I have to accept it.