Archive | November, 2011

A bit of a funk.

28 Nov

I’m sorry I’ve been so negative lately.  Unfortunately, I don’t see it going away any time soon.  I’m not quite sure what to do about the sadness I’m experiencing these days; at this point all I can think to do is ride it out.  I think it’s better to work through it than try to push it aside…so that’s my plan for now.  Thank you for all your love and support, I honestly feel like I’m not worthy of it…I’m having such a difficult time giving it back these days.  I’ll understand if you can’t keep giving it to me.  This should never be a one way street.

Along these same lines, my lack of commenting has made for a really poor performance with ICLW this time around…I guess I didn’t think I’d be in this state when I signed up.  I had been doing so well for so long, and now it’s all that I can do to even turn on the computer.  So those of you that came by and left words of encouragement, thank you so much, they have been really wonderful to read.  This community is incredible.

In light of my last two weeks, I think we’re taking December off from trying.  I just need a break from the disappointment.  Besides, there are hot-buttered rums to be consumed, and I can’t spend another two weeks of not drinking just to get my period again.  I’m not a huge drinker, but if I can have one thing that a pregnant woman can’t, I’ll take it, damnit!

So January we’ll hop back on this crazy train.  Hopefully I’ll be in better spirits by then.

In the meantime, I’m trying to surround myself with joy and hope that it sticks.

Joy in the form of this:

apple pie

apple pie slice

And this:

christmas lights

Right now, it’s the little things.

Bathroom stall philosophy.

16 Nov

bathroom stall

Your dreams are almost always here!

So there you go.  No more worrying if your dreams will come true or not, they’re all already here.  You know it must be true if it’s written on the wall of a bathroom stall.

It’s just like if you were to call Jenny, you know you’d have a good time because it says so right there above the toilet next to her number!  Then again, there’s the chance she could make a special kind of dream come true.  *wink, wink*

11.11.11

11 Nov

[ via flickr ]

I just erased a long emotional tirade about how I wish I had more passion for protesting the war and how the numerous battles have effected me and my family personally; but after last night’s post, it just felt like too much.  All I really wanted to say is that today I’m thinking about my grandfathers who are still with us and my uncle who is no longer, S’s step-father and her sweet friend from college that lost his life in the war, and all the men and women who have served our country.  Just saying thank you doesn’t seem like enough.

(Also, I can’t help but put this in because it hits close to home — did you know that during the past two years, the US military has lost more men and women to suicide than it has to combat in Iraq and Afghanistan?  Devastating.  This war needs to end.  Yesterday.  A decade ago.)

 

How can we talk more freely?

10 Nov

In the comments of my last post, it was apparent that besides all of our prayers that she’ll have her baby girl,  we all wanted her to find the support she so desperately needs.  We’re the “lucky” ones….we’ve found our voice, and through that voice, we’ve f0und this community.  I’ve already been fired up about this before, but felt the desire to approach the subject again – how do we find a way to talk about this beyond our online community?

After my second loss, I felt like I was the only one to have ever known this kind of grief.  I believed I was utterly and painfully alone.   It wasn’t until I opened up about it here that I found others that shared my pain.  The more I talked about it on my blog, the more I talked about in my real life, too.  Just last week I was out to lunch with my boss and a couple of colleagues and we got on the topic of Twitter.  I was asked if I had an account, and I mentioned I did.  However, I quickly added that it wasn’t one that I’m willing to link to our organization’s account because it’s focused mainly on pregnancy loss.  The woman colleague (who hadn’t yet heard of my history) hesitated, but we continued our conversation despite what I had just revealed.  Today I receive a call from her telling me that her sister had just lost her pregnancy at 12 weeks and she wanted my advice on what to say.  Because I was so open about my relationship with loss, I believe it allowed her to feel okay about asking me for help.  Do you know how incredible it felt to have someone just pick up the phone and not be afraid to ask me about it?  It was hard not to think to myself, “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”  Because I’m dramatic and cheesy like that.

But guys!  I helped someone — a complete stranger! — because I talked about it openly.  Because of that, she won’t have to hear, “Everything happens for a reason,”  or “It was probably for the best, you wouldn’t have wanted something to be wrong with your baby,” or “God knew you could handle it.”  Instead, someone will tell her she’s so sorry this happened, and she will acknowledge that her pain and grief is real.  And maybe as a result, she won’t feel so alone.

For so many out there suffering loss or infertility, their voice feels restrained, unable to speak about their loss.  According to the recent Redbook article, “The invisible pain of infertility” (November 2011), 61 percent of those polled hid their infertility from family and friends.  What’s more shocking…nearly half didn’t even tell their mothers!

I understand if someone chooses to keep this private – that’s of course their choice and they shouldn’t be forced to talk – but for those of us that are comfortable with talking about it, we need start telling people about our experiences outside of our blog so it can become a less taboo subject.   For me, I tend to be an open-book kind of gal so I’m able to talk freely (sometimes too much) about my life to anyone who will listen.  But for those out there that it doesn’t come naturally to, how does one do it?

What sparked this post was a comment from nobabiesyet in response to the PostSecret:

So ladies, how can we breach the silence and have our voices heard, so that others don’t have to feel as alone in their suffering?  How have you done it?  Do you think it should remain behind doors, or talked about freely on the streets?  Let’s see if we can come up with some concrete ways to do it, because the side of infertility that the NYTimes refuses to cover, needs to be heard.

A heart-wrenching PostSecret.

7 Nov

Did anyone else see this secret on this Sunday’s PostSecret?


Those last five words…..I want to find whoever it is that sent it in, grab her, and not let go…and pray with all that I have that she won’t lose that baby.

Those last five words are uncomfortably familiar.

After my first few losses, I wasn’t sure how I would be able to continue.  I remember so clearly after the second and soul-crushing loss, how I briefly thought about driving into the river instead of going to the doctor’s, where I was headed.  It seemed like such a better alternative than my reality at the time, with all of my hopes and dreams lying lifeless in a plastic container in the back of the car.

These particular words are so very bold and real, it is incredibly frightening.  My experience was fortunately just a fleeting thought, but these, these are a permanent declaration.  I know I don’t know the entire story, or how long she’s fought for this baby girl…but these words, they hit me in a way that make me want fight for our collective voice.   So many of us have felt like our entire world ended with the loss of a heartbeat and felt at times like no one could possibly understand what it’s like to experience this heartache and this pain…and it’s all because people don’t talk about it.  We are made to feel so completely alone in this grief because it’s not recognized as real grief.   A woman like this needs to know that she’s not alone and that we’re all out here to help get her through this.  I know I’m where I am today largely because of you guys; because of your brave words I learned I wasn’t alone in this.  What if she doesn’t find that?

This is why it’s so important to keep talking about this out loud, and not just on our blogs.  This is why the Redbook campaign is so important and why RESOLVE exists.  I feel like I need to do more.  If I can make just one other woman feel less alone, it will make all of this hell worth it.  If I can stop one other woman from wanting to drive into a river, I want to find a way to do it.

I hope this woman finds the support she needs.  More importantly, I hope she never needs to.