Saying Goodbye to the Circus

I’ve seen a lot of posts lately, about people’s successes, and truly I am so happy for each of you who has toiled and suffered and worked so hard for the shimmering happiness that comes with getting a longed for positive, with each week that passes that brings you closer and closer to the safety zone. I do not begrudge your obsessive pee sticks, your burgeoning belly shots and your tentative steps toward a cautious joy. I  happily root for you. I sincerely hope that each of you finds that. I hope I find that.

But the posts about resentments have always made me wonder if I was a good fit for this community. How different my belief systems are, how much older I am,  how different my experiences have been, and all the ways those experiences have shaped me.  I don’t understand how you can wish like crazy for a baby and resent someone who has been on their own path through hell, a positive pee stick or a belly shot. Even in my current state of grief, I can’t grasp this thinking. I can’t wrap my head around it. I understand it. I’ve felt those twinges as well, but I have never given in to them. I never will allow myself to.

To be completely clear, I do not judge you if these are your feelings, they are yours. But I do not understand them in the grand scheme of things.

“Coming out” on Facebook has been nice, sort of. But embarrassing and kind of humiliating. The truth is I don’t think most of my “friends” really want to read about the misery I am currently experiencing. To be honest, I’m not sure I want to continue to share it. If I am brutally honest, I think it was kind of pathetic on my part, to call attention to it. Clearly it was me reaching out into the void, looking for support. I’ve said all  along I don’t have a support system. That has never been clearer and more “in my face” than since my embryo died. I call it an embryo because by medical definition, it wasn’t a fetus yet, and I can’t handle calling it a baby.

Yesterday, someone I respect said to me, “You are right. You really don’t have anyone in your life, like a best friend or a spouse that supports you, so you can’t afford to fall apart. You’re going to have to be stronger.”

This statement made me really angry, because after all I’ve been through, I feel entitled to be weak for a minute. I feel like I deserve to be allowed to fall apart. The truth is, he was right. I have no one that will pick me up again so I AM going to have to be stronger. I am going to have to keep putting one foot in front of the other because there is no one else to do it for me. No one to share my burden.

This most recent series of posts that I’ve read and posted, has made me wonder if I have lost the purpose of this blog. When a Circus becomes a Horror Story perhaps its time for the Circus to close down.

That’s what I’m going to do.

I will not be taking the blog down. I will be reading and responding to comments, but I no longer think this is a positive means to express my feelings about my journey. I have decided I will try IVF again, but I have a lot of ugly to get through first. I think its best sorted out in private, so this will be my last post here.

I have found I really love writing, though I’m not terribly good at it,  and you will now be able to find me at The Luncheonette.

It’s still under construction, but I think it will be a more complete representation of who I am. I will be sharing a menu of my travels, photography, food, my husband and stepdaughter, things I think are funny or inspiring, books, music, movies, my observations of the world, and my immature shenanigans.

I want to thank the IF community for being kind to me, for supporting me and tolerating my sometimes controversial posts. For reading even when I’ve been a bitch or my posts have sucked. I know in my heart that the day will come for each of you when you hold your baby(s) in your arms and feel happier and more complete as women, and as part of families.  My email address is jlko@att.net if you want to stay in touch.

I hope it’s not goodbye, I hope it’s just so long, and I hope to see you at the lunch counter!

Jeanette

The Best Laid Plans, Never get Laid

This is actually the title of a song by “The Bears”  from a CD called  Rise and Shine who are mostly member of King Crimson from the 80’s. Admit it, none of you have any idea who I’m talking about….

My plan has worked well this last few weeks. I’ve felt genuinely peaceful and content for at least 10 days in a row.

Until last night when the husband lost his shit over me getting him a new iPhone 5. Everyone Anyone else would be like… “YAY!” but he was all “OMG I hate technology, I hate this thing, nothing is where I left it and its all your fault”

Whut? Normal husbands would be like..”OMG you are the best wife ever, you ever transferred everything over and set it up for me how can I be a better spouse to you?” Also, I didn’t get one for me. I just got one for him because he hasn’t had an upgrade to his phone in 3 years.

Nope! None of that here. Instead he texted me, and then called me and yelled at me for an hour until I solved his problem and then he was all…”Whoa you are like the iPhone whisperer”

SERIOUSLY? seriously?

Please visualize those two words being said with 2 HUGE eyes, A pale blue face, racing heartbeat,  high blood pressure and a look of complete disbelief. Assuming you know what my face looks like.

I don’t respond to stress like a maniac! Also I may or may not have mentioned he’s not technology er… savvy. Which is the nice way of saying he’s a moron when it comes to every single thing that makes sense to me in this world. I *might* have just projected a lil anger onto him, but come ON! Most people would pee on themselves to get the newest best model Apple product.

Plus I stayed up until 2am to order it for him so he’d better step off! Lastly, he asked for it. He denied it last night, but he asked for the new one because of its larger screen. Aside from perfection, nice paintings, old expensive architectural books and perfect grades from both me and stepdaughter this man doesn’t ask for anything for himself. So when he does. I listen.

I also know his limitations and his tolerances so I (wrongly) thought that me transferring everything over, and handing a new phone completely synched and working with all his favorite apps in the right order would be enough.

Next time, I will just buy one for myself and call it a day.
I had meetings this morning, acupuncture this afternoon and the radio show Facebook thingy I host tonight.

Then I will meditate on my single follicle and tell it to behave itself and to do its job. Tonight, my weird retrieval cleaning and routine. I admit it, I’m slightly OCD about the retrieval thing.

Tomorrow, If I haven’t ovulated the little effer early, the first dominant follicle from my sad little left ovary ever.

The Bears Http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLtWj4S3Vy8

Driven

I have decided I’m going to take some time off. Not off blogging really but off the pressure of giving regular updates about what is happening with me. I will still do it often but not to the degree as before.I’ve decided this will also include a picture and will be descriptive of some of my personal process.

So here we are.

The question is: “Who inspires you?” and my answer is so simple. Steve Jobs. Whv? Because he refused to settle for bullshit. Because he refused to  allow mediocrity to drive him. That being said in many ways he was a terrible person. I acknowledge that. Completely. But overwhelmingly those people look at their work and are proud, of how they were driven of his perfectionism and of his overwhelming loyalty towards form over function.

I cried when he died. Not because he was an ass or because he was famous but because he inspired me in every way possible to do better, to reach and to strive for better. And because privately I rooted for his magical thinking. I rooted for him to beat his cancer.

Everyone in the tech community knew for ages before he passed how sick he was. and how thin and frail he looked. But no one had the balls to mention it, not to him. the dreamer of dreams.

I pulled over on the freeway the night I heard he died. And I cried. Like Id lost a relative or a lover. To this day I can’t explain my admiration completely but he was amazing. And we lost him too  soon.

 

 

 

WAR

We live in a nice neighborhood. A really pretty historic neighborhood. Where people walk their dogs, and pick up the poop and you don’t see people parking their trucks on the front lawn or beer cans strewn about.

Last night, the neighbors to the right of us got their house TP’ed. Really really bad. I wish Id taken a picture. It was awesome. And included a package of maxi pads stuck to their front door, their car windows the whole 9. Whoever did it planned well and had a lot of forethought about it. Oh and for the record, no I didn’t do it.

I need to admit something. I hate those neighbors. When we moved in they were so nice and the kids were so sweet. But something happened to the oldest kid about 2 years ago. In the span of about 6 months I caught him smoking pot in my backyard 3 times.

I know kids go through phases but he’s only 16 now so it sort of freaked me out.

I never wanted to be that parent, but I told him not cool, and if I caught him again I’d tell his father. When I caught him again I made the unfortunate mistake of keeping my promise. It caused tension between us. I think they knew that their kid was heading down an ugly path but they really didn’t want to talk about it. I explained to his dad that “I’m not trying to interfere, but if it was my kid, Id want to know.”

The third time I called the police mean it is my property so WTH, smoke that shiz on your own property, you little turd. Sneaking out and back in his window, sneaking girls in his window. That window seems to get a lot of action. I’ve caught him drinking, because he left his beer cans all over my front lawn, a long with a pair of his boxers. I don’t know why they were there but all this has led to more uncomfortable discussions with his parents. Who now seem to hate us.

Both husband and I have seen him brought home by the police at least 4 times in the last year.

The kid doesn’t talk to me anymore. But sometime last year he decided to take it upon himself to contact via the web every single religion and asked them on my behalf to visit my house. We’ve had visits from the Baptists, the Jehovahs Witnesses, the Kaballah people, The Muslims, the Mormons, Evangelical Christians,  and a few others. You might ask how it is I know he did it? Well, I asked them how they got our info. They showed me the printout from the websites, and being you know.. me, I asked about the ip address. So I have proof that its him.

I havent decided what to do about it, but about a year ago every few weeks I started changing the name of my internet network to things like “FBI Surveillance Van, and Santa Ana Drug Enforcement Agency, and SAPD, and Homeland Security.

Which caused his parents to come over and ask if we knew why any of those agencies were in our area and what was causing them to be here. We’ve had no fewer than 5 visits from them asking us if we knew anything about it or had seen it on our own networks.

I feign innocence and say “Yes I’ve seen that too and I have no clue what is happening or why they are in the neighborhood!”

Yes I know. I’m immature. Childish, silly and ridiculous but there is some part of me that giggles every single time they come over and freak out. The part of me that’s still 9.

I can’t do anything about their kid and I do hope he grows out of it. I also am really grateful that my stepdaughter is NOTHING like him.

I have to also admit that I laugh every time I think about it. And as I am sitting here, he’s outside picking up the maxi pads off his dads car and trying to get the toilet paper out of his trees. It’s already made my day.

Lanterns

Lets see.

Yesterday was Fathers day in which I attempted to avoid a sunburn because my husband sprayed me down with 70 sunscreen. GUESS WHAT? I now have strap shaped sunburns where he avoided rubbing the sunscreen in because of my bra straps. Dude, we have been together for almost 12 years are you kidding me with this bra strap crap? It’s going to go over well at the “he’s trying to kill me hearing”

I had acupuncture today which hurt like a mofo because Shark week has still not appeared. Although my back and right ovary have been killing me. Which wont matter to either of them because they are busy in their ray bans with their skinny jeans laughing and making fun of the fact that I was doing the same thing to them like… 30 years ago.

Of the 2 people that joined my IVF Clinics Peer support group one is now pregnant. I’m happy for her seriously, she’s had a rough go of it, she’s a good 1000 years younger than I am, but all the same, its proof this method works! Now lets just get it working for me, that’s all I’m saying. Linda, all the very best at your second Beta on Wednesday!! Everything will be crossed for you.

Emily finally called last night from Hong Kong, there is a Typhoon warning and they aren’t leaving the hotel much, and while I hope shes safe from harm I also kind of want to laugh at her mom for taking her on such a craptacular vacation. I know its awful. I’m sorry its mean but seriously? I’m a white person, and even I know Hong Kong in June is a bad idea. All that aside it made husband really really happy to hear from her.

We bought 2 bronze Japanese lanterns for the yard yesterday for 45.00. They are both from the 30’s, Pasadena, and probably Green and Green. They look fabulous they way he hung them. Now that part of the yard is complete we need to look at the next area. He got what he wanted on Fathers day. For once he read my blog and loved what I wrote about him being a dad and all I’ve learned from him.

Now I need to find a way to untangle him from me.:p

We are planning a party for sometime this summer. I kind of want to ask my RE and my Acupuncturist, how weird would that be?

I’m considering making raspberry jam, and I’ve had a lot of requests for my bracelets so I’m going to keep up with that. I’ve promised my friend Kate to learn to knit better.

In the meantime, when it starts again I will blog about my fertility struggles. Until then its just me and weird sort of boring life.

Love youse!

Bridget Jones

I realized today that this IVF process has changed me. In some good ways and some bad ways but it’s changed me.

Think of it as my Bridget Jones List of trying to conceive via ART.

Comment translation:

  • g – good
  • vg – very good
  • vvg – very very good
  • nvg – not very good
  1. I no longer read gossip sites like Perez Hilton and Dlisted. Now I read a lot of infertility blog posts. g
  2. I watch enough trash reality tv that it’s really embarrassing. nvg
  3. I no longer care about anything any Kardashian as doing as long as my ovaries are not as empty as any of their head. vg
  4. I’ve eaten more fruit and vegetables in the last year than I have in my whole life (thanks for contributing this one husband) vvg
  5. I’m willing to try things like fertility yoga and meditation, things I’d have rolled my eyes at a year ago. g
  6. I’m willing to drink things that are abhorrent to me like huge glasses of wheat-grass. *this is really questionable*
  7. More people have seen the Queen Victoria in the last 7-8 months than have in my entire life.  nvg
  8. I’ve tried and continued with acupuncture. Even though sometimes I think he puts the one in my head there, to let the evil out. vg
  9. I take enough vitamins to choke myself, and sometimes do. g
  10. I’ve give up my beloved Diet Coke.  vg
  11. I’ve yelled at my RE. *Not my proudest moment I can assure you*  nvg
  12. I started a Peer Support Group for my clinic and omg people actually joined. g
  13. I have learned an entirely new set of acronyms and practically a whole other language *again, questionable*
  14. I actually get impatient for Shark Week to start so I can try again. *possibly indicates insanity*
  15. I’ve met, even if it’s just online, some of the best people I’ve ever known in my life. vvg!
  16. I have major control issues, I’m impatient and have a forked tongue. nvg
  17. The support offered by the blogging community has been amazing. Really. AMAZING. vvg!

The point of this journey is to wind up with a baby. It’s still my sole purpose, but I do think that for all its ups and downs, there have been some really special things that have happened a long the way. Somehow, fear and all, I do find the ability to hope, at least a little every month. Why else would I continue trying?

Bitter en Zoet *one of my most favorite bloggers!* made a comment to me last month “Magical Things Happen at the Circus”.  I try to think of that when I’m feeling particularly down.

One more Provera pill until the Circus begins again!

SHOCKER!

I know this will be a huge shock to most of you but, er.. patience is not one of my virtues.

The fear that comes with not having the outcomes of regular cycles can be trying. To say the least. The anxiety and uncertainty that comes with them can be as overwhelming as a wave that threatens to pull you out to sea and almost as powerful.

Add to it your regular life, work, family issues, illnesses, petty arguments between family members and its easy for your mind to go to dark places. Where your fears take you through every possible worst case scenario.

Having just come through one of those months, with a practically miraculous outcome, what I can say that I’ve learned; is that there is a certain kind of patience that you need to stop yourself from completely doing your own head in. The hard part is not giving in to the nagging worries, the impatience and the fear of failure when things don’t go the way everyone  you expect.

I remember seeing a movie once about a couple adopting a baby from a young teenage girl, and the girl asking “How do you make relationships last a long time? The answer was definitive and while I can’t remember the name of the movie I remember it was Glenn Close and she said “Only one of you gets to be crazy at a time”

Welcome to my life. I am, as it is pointedly clear, the crazy one. My husband is the nice one. The one that quietly endures my crying, the mood swings the random hostility about how come I am the broken one and the one who holds it all together when I am literally flying into pieces.

There is something to be said for having a man like this. Mainly that while I don’t always get what I want, usually, he decipher what I need. And I love him for that. For letting me take this time to be crazy for going like gangbusters with whatever I want, if its to quit or keep going. He’s there.

I’ve said before that the list of my apologies after this process will be long and involved and may actually take years. Literally.

Maira, Molly, Julie, and Dr Yelian. Thank you for keeping on when I’ve been awful. Thank you for pushing me toward success even when I didn’t think it would be possible. And no I don’t expect every month to be like this one, this one came at a time when I really needed it.

Thank you for your incredible patience with me.