You may remember the idea I had to record my grandparents reading some stories for a future little one. This weekend I took off down the road with my laptop, storybook, and a dinky little microphone that I've had for years. My Nana was more than happy to participate. The first thing that we recorded was this song called 'Little Man' that my grandma likes to sing. I never liked it a whole bunch because the duck gets shot. But it's part of my childhood. Next I had her pick a story from the book, which is an omnibus collection of Little Golden Books. She picked 'Goodnight Little Bear'. We got through it pretty quickly only messing up a teeny tiny bit. My Nana is a good storyteller, she does the voices and the noises both. I reassured her that she did not in fact sound like a total hick. Then while she wrote out a script for another song, I pinned down my grandfather. He hemmed and hawed about it for a few moments but still sat down and began looking through the book for his story. I knew the one he would pick out. 'The Color Kittens'. My grandfather loves kitty cats. As I positioned the mic close enough to pick him up, he straightens his back and tucks in his chin. I signal him to start and am immediately amazed at the change in his voice. Deeper richer. I would have never imagined his reading voice would be so much different than his speaking voice. He adlibbed a little here and there which only served to make a truer reflection of who he really is. It recorded beautifully. I was amazed at his voice. It reminded me of this old record I used to have that had the story of Sleepy Hollow on one side and Rip Van Winkle on the other. His voice was just that awesome. If he could stay on point he would make a wonderful narrator. Then my Nana and I headed down to the creek to record another old favorite, 'Blind Child's Prayer'. We decided to record it down there because when I was little I used to lay in her lap in the swing listening to her sing, the creek burble, the leaves whisper, as she gently wove her fingers through my hair with one hand, patting out a beat with the other. I was hoping it might pick up some of the ambient noises. It didn't, my cheapo mic wasn't powerful enough but it did make a very crisp very clear recording of her voice.
Afterwards we went for a walk. My brother met us on the way back and asked what we had been up to. My Nana told him immediately obviously thinking he already knew. I had wanted to keep it a little bit of a secret. Maybe its selfish but I wanted to make this for MY future little one. And I knew what would happen which it did. My brother asked me to make him a copy for his daughter when I finished. I mean she already has access to our grandparents, she sees them two to three times every single week. I guess it is a little selfish, but now I don't really have that option. I agreed to give him a copy when it was finished.
My parents got home a little later and I attempted to corner my Dad. That didn't work. He refused to participate citing a headache, being too busy, he wasn't croaking anytime soon, not in the mood, blah blah blah. Maybe I can catch him on another day. My mom and I retired to my old bedroom and sat down to listen to the recordings i'd already done. That's when we realized that 'Little Man' hadn't recorded completely. Don't know why, maybe the jack slipped out of the port. So I'll have to bring it all back out there again next weekend to redo it anyways. Then Mom recorded mine and my brother's favorite childhood story 'The Pokey Little Puppy." She messed up and got tickled. She wanted to redo it but i loved the little laugh in her voice that made her all the more real in the recorded version. That's the version of my Mom I'd want my kid to know anyways.
I'm going to try and get my husband to use his fancy recording software to put it all together and EQ it properly in the end.
It feels good to get this done. I know that its preparing to make the best of a horrible situation. It's a little morbid in a way. But I'd rather be a little morbid and a lot prepared than to be in denial and miss out on this opportunity and consequently cause my future child to miss out too. My grandmother assured me once again that no matter what happened, iui, ivf, adoption, they would support me and love whatever child we brought into the family.
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Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Friday, September 13, 2013
Friday the 13th
Alot of people seem to think that Friday the 13th is a bad day. Nobody is for sure exactly where the superstition came from. For me this Friday the 13th has been a good day. Today is mine and my husband's 4th wedding anniversary!
It's hard to believe that its been four years since our wedding day and a little over eight since we started dating to begin with. I think we've surprised alot of people with how far we've made it. A few have even been silly enough to say that out loud. I'll admit we were an unlikely pair in the beginning. I was a socially stunted quiet young woman freshly graduated from highschool and working at my first job outside of the family business. He was eight years older, had already owned and sold his own franchise and was starting over as a general manager. He had an infectious smile and a kind heart even though the weight on his shoulders was at times immense. I could have never imagined the first day I met him that this is where we would end up. It certainly wasn't love at first sight, but then again I was far too rational and closed off for that to have happened. I do know that from that first day he made my life better.
Our wedding day was beautiful. It was on a Sunday. I woke at the crack of dawn and slipped out of the house as quietly as I could manage. My feet were soaked with dew by the time I'd finished the short walk to my grandmother's house and the area where we would have both the ceremony and reception. I couldn't move the huge round tables I'd rented by myself so I crept into their sleeping house and into my grandmother's bedroom as I'd done so many times before waiting for the school bus. It hit me as I watched her sleep that this would probably be the very last time I would do it. It made me hesitate to wake her up, but I did. She threw on some old sweats and helped me lug the big tables into position, and then the chairs. My mother and maid of honor arrived shortly thereafter and together the four of us put up the decorations, wrapping tulle around fence posts, filling little glass vases with stones, water, and a floating candles. I attended to pretty much every detail. I didn't realize then that I tend towards the control freak side of things. But I did have my hands in everything for our wedding. I made the ring bearer pillow, all the floral arrangements, the invitations, even designed the cake. I was finishing up on the back deck when I saw him coming from the house. He was smiling though still a little groggy. I caught a glimpse of him coming through the line of forsythia bushes and under the trellis before I darted back to my grandmother's bedroom. Out of breath and suddenly so very anxious. With shaking hands I did my own hair and makeup, putting tiny little white butterflies in my hair. Then it was time to step into my gown. My best friend from grade school helped my mother lace me up. I was shaking, peeping out the window as everyone arrived. The lady who drove my school bus when I was younger arrived with the cake as we took a few informal bridal photos away from prying eyes. My dad came to tell me it was time and escort me down the aisle. I stepped out of the safety of the house and everyone swiveled to look at me. My heart stopped. I felt panic rising up. I seriously considered turning to run rather than walk through the midst of all those staring faces. My dad latched onto my arm, probably feeling me tense. My gaze lifted and I met my husband's face. Everyone else disappeared as if a massive fog had swept through the yard. I made it through our guests, who thank god didn't stand. I said my vows in a clear sure voice. He broke down and cried saying his. I am so very happy that I went first. I wouldn't have been able to keep from crying if I'd followed that. It was over so fast.
We cut the cake, signed the papers, and were whisked away to the airport. The first step to fulfilling my lifelong dream of visiting Ireland. Our honeymoon was amazing.
We celebrated our anniversary yesterday since he has to work nightshift all this weekend. He brought me some wonderful gifts then we went to the Olive Garden to eat. I bought him a black long sleeve jacket thingy that he looked absolutely striking in. It was a good day and it felt nice to have something to celebrate.
Make no bones about it. This year has been our most difficult ever. With the diabetes diagnosis, the infertility diagnosis, and his mother's failing health, it has been a struggle most days to find a reason to smile. I know that this is the stuff that makes or breaks a marriage. This is where we discover if the words we said on our wedding day were true. And for us they were. Our marriage and our relationship is just as strong as ever. We are finding a strength within each other that we never knew existed. And whatever comes, whatever happens I am so glad and so grateful that he is my husband.
It's hard to believe that its been four years since our wedding day and a little over eight since we started dating to begin with. I think we've surprised alot of people with how far we've made it. A few have even been silly enough to say that out loud. I'll admit we were an unlikely pair in the beginning. I was a socially stunted quiet young woman freshly graduated from highschool and working at my first job outside of the family business. He was eight years older, had already owned and sold his own franchise and was starting over as a general manager. He had an infectious smile and a kind heart even though the weight on his shoulders was at times immense. I could have never imagined the first day I met him that this is where we would end up. It certainly wasn't love at first sight, but then again I was far too rational and closed off for that to have happened. I do know that from that first day he made my life better.
Our wedding day was beautiful. It was on a Sunday. I woke at the crack of dawn and slipped out of the house as quietly as I could manage. My feet were soaked with dew by the time I'd finished the short walk to my grandmother's house and the area where we would have both the ceremony and reception. I couldn't move the huge round tables I'd rented by myself so I crept into their sleeping house and into my grandmother's bedroom as I'd done so many times before waiting for the school bus. It hit me as I watched her sleep that this would probably be the very last time I would do it. It made me hesitate to wake her up, but I did. She threw on some old sweats and helped me lug the big tables into position, and then the chairs. My mother and maid of honor arrived shortly thereafter and together the four of us put up the decorations, wrapping tulle around fence posts, filling little glass vases with stones, water, and a floating candles. I attended to pretty much every detail. I didn't realize then that I tend towards the control freak side of things. But I did have my hands in everything for our wedding. I made the ring bearer pillow, all the floral arrangements, the invitations, even designed the cake. I was finishing up on the back deck when I saw him coming from the house. He was smiling though still a little groggy. I caught a glimpse of him coming through the line of forsythia bushes and under the trellis before I darted back to my grandmother's bedroom. Out of breath and suddenly so very anxious. With shaking hands I did my own hair and makeup, putting tiny little white butterflies in my hair. Then it was time to step into my gown. My best friend from grade school helped my mother lace me up. I was shaking, peeping out the window as everyone arrived. The lady who drove my school bus when I was younger arrived with the cake as we took a few informal bridal photos away from prying eyes. My dad came to tell me it was time and escort me down the aisle. I stepped out of the safety of the house and everyone swiveled to look at me. My heart stopped. I felt panic rising up. I seriously considered turning to run rather than walk through the midst of all those staring faces. My dad latched onto my arm, probably feeling me tense. My gaze lifted and I met my husband's face. Everyone else disappeared as if a massive fog had swept through the yard. I made it through our guests, who thank god didn't stand. I said my vows in a clear sure voice. He broke down and cried saying his. I am so very happy that I went first. I wouldn't have been able to keep from crying if I'd followed that. It was over so fast.
We celebrated our anniversary yesterday since he has to work nightshift all this weekend. He brought me some wonderful gifts then we went to the Olive Garden to eat. I bought him a black long sleeve jacket thingy that he looked absolutely striking in. It was a good day and it felt nice to have something to celebrate.
Make no bones about it. This year has been our most difficult ever. With the diabetes diagnosis, the infertility diagnosis, and his mother's failing health, it has been a struggle most days to find a reason to smile. I know that this is the stuff that makes or breaks a marriage. This is where we discover if the words we said on our wedding day were true. And for us they were. Our marriage and our relationship is just as strong as ever. We are finding a strength within each other that we never knew existed. And whatever comes, whatever happens I am so glad and so grateful that he is my husband.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Where am I?
I used to pride myself on knowing who I was and where I stood. I was a constant. I wasn't swayed by peer pressure or the things on tv because I knew innately who I was. I assumed that self-awareness would carry me through the rest of my life. I would always be the old soul. Like so many other things Infertility seems to have taken that away from me. I don't know where I stand anymore from moment to moment. The latest ground that seems to be crumbling beneath my feet is on the subject of adoption.
I always thought that adoption was an amazing option. I thought growing up that it would be nice to adopt someone. So when trying to conceive started taking longer than anticipated adoption naturally came up. I started doing research, lurking on an adoption board, preparing myself mentally for the realities that would come with that choice. When we were officially diagnosed with male factor infertility, the adoption option became more real. We knew that IVF simply wasn't cost effective. Not to mention the invasive procedures and copious amounts of drugs that are necessary in a single IVF cycle. I don't take tylenol unless the pain makes it hard to function. Together we ruled it out. Then as the journey progressed and I did even more research, we ruled it back in. Adoption became further down the line of options. With my husband's last SA even IVF started to look like a pipe dream. Adoption inches closer.
Last night my husband came home from visiting with a friend. I've been trying to get him to go and talk to this friend for months. I know he needs someone to talk to as much as I need my dreamers. I was relieved that he finally went. His friend is starting the adoption process due to male factor infertility. Hubby came home in a whole different frame of mind then he left that morning. He was excited, exuberant even. I was happy for him. Glad he had someone to talk to. Then he said, 'Hun, how bout we skip all this treatment stuff and go straight to adoption.' I'll admit I'd rolled that thought around in my head more than a couple of times in the past couple weeks. But when he said it aloud and excited, something broke inside me. The tears started welling up immediately, my throat clogged up, I couldn't talk without my voice cracking. It wasn't til he said it out loud that I realized how much I'm not ready to go there. I surprised myself completely with my gut wrench reaction to a simple suggestion. I don't know who I am anymore. Now I can't help but be over whelmed with guilt. And I don't even really know where it's coming from.
Hubby keeps asking these questions. "Is it just that you want to experience pregnancy?" "Is it just that you want a kid that looks like us?" Is it just.... JUST. It's not JUST anything. It's everything all together. Never experiencing pregnancy or childbirth,no maternity pictures, no baby shower, not being able to see myself in a child, having to pay thousands upon thousands of dollars, having someone judge me and my ability to be a parent, the possibility of a failed match, especially a last minute one where I've loved that baby for 2 weeks or more before the revocation period is over, having to have that talk with the child, hearing them say even once that I'm not their real mother, knowing that eventually they'll want to find their bio mom and me feeling like I wasn't enough if they need that. Yes they grew within someone else for 9 months but I was there for 18 years! I'm their real mom. And you can forget about those huggy feely open adoptions where the bio mom comes to visit for Christmas and birthdays. No..no..no you can't have your cake and eat it too, darn it. Not in my world. And what bio mom is going to pick closed off me over open Sally over there. All at once all these thoughts came crashing down on me and they were real not just nimbusy what-ifs. And I realized that I'm terrified. I'm really really scared. And I shouldn't be, right?
Maybe lurking on the adoption board wasn't the right thing to do but I watched these women experience incredible heartbreak from failed matches. I cried for them. They bounced back and tried again and sometimes tragically they had to do it all over yet again. I know that a late failed match will destroy me emotionally. I will not bounce back. The husband agrees and said, 'Well if that happens its the ultimate cosmic signal that we just shouldn't have children at all'. That didn't help at all, though I'm sure he thought it would.
I don't know where I am because the landscape is constantly changing around me, and through its changing its changing me as well.
My real life experience with adoption was limited. The closest I got was a kinship adoption, when my parents took in my 15 year old cousin. For three years she was my sister. I was young, I don't remember the time before her. The day she turned 18 she packed her bags and left, didn't even stay for the party we planned, didn't open her gifts, or eat cake. I didn't see her again for years and by then she had a kid of her own. By then I was angry. I'm still angry with her for leaving us, for taking our love and pretending we were family and then leaving the first chance she got and fracturing my youth.
I used to think adoption was helping someone. But knowing that what I want is infant adoption, I can't help but feel that I'm not really helping someone. There are waiting lists a mile long for infants. If I don't do it, you can darn well bet someone else is eager to take my place in line. And then there are the adopted kids who grow up and talk about how adoption ruined their lives, even if they were placed with loving families. I'm having a hard time seeing the positives anymore.
Rationally I think this is all part of the grieving process. Irrationally I feel like a bad person. The husband has since assured me that he's not ready to start the process either, not yet. That I shouldn't feel bad, but I do. I've always been supportive of adoption, why can't I be supportive of it for me?
I feel like I'm floundering and just plain lost right now.
If you would have asked me two weeks ago, heck even two days ago, about adoption I would have been overly positive and optimisitic, hopeful. Where did that person go? How did she just disappear into thin air?
I could really use some insights, some positive experiences, some reassurance that my emotions right now are normal, anything to shed some light on the situation while I fumble around in the dark.
I always thought that adoption was an amazing option. I thought growing up that it would be nice to adopt someone. So when trying to conceive started taking longer than anticipated adoption naturally came up. I started doing research, lurking on an adoption board, preparing myself mentally for the realities that would come with that choice. When we were officially diagnosed with male factor infertility, the adoption option became more real. We knew that IVF simply wasn't cost effective. Not to mention the invasive procedures and copious amounts of drugs that are necessary in a single IVF cycle. I don't take tylenol unless the pain makes it hard to function. Together we ruled it out. Then as the journey progressed and I did even more research, we ruled it back in. Adoption became further down the line of options. With my husband's last SA even IVF started to look like a pipe dream. Adoption inches closer.
Last night my husband came home from visiting with a friend. I've been trying to get him to go and talk to this friend for months. I know he needs someone to talk to as much as I need my dreamers. I was relieved that he finally went. His friend is starting the adoption process due to male factor infertility. Hubby came home in a whole different frame of mind then he left that morning. He was excited, exuberant even. I was happy for him. Glad he had someone to talk to. Then he said, 'Hun, how bout we skip all this treatment stuff and go straight to adoption.' I'll admit I'd rolled that thought around in my head more than a couple of times in the past couple weeks. But when he said it aloud and excited, something broke inside me. The tears started welling up immediately, my throat clogged up, I couldn't talk without my voice cracking. It wasn't til he said it out loud that I realized how much I'm not ready to go there. I surprised myself completely with my gut wrench reaction to a simple suggestion. I don't know who I am anymore. Now I can't help but be over whelmed with guilt. And I don't even really know where it's coming from.
Hubby keeps asking these questions. "Is it just that you want to experience pregnancy?" "Is it just that you want a kid that looks like us?" Is it just.... JUST. It's not JUST anything. It's everything all together. Never experiencing pregnancy or childbirth,no maternity pictures, no baby shower, not being able to see myself in a child, having to pay thousands upon thousands of dollars, having someone judge me and my ability to be a parent, the possibility of a failed match, especially a last minute one where I've loved that baby for 2 weeks or more before the revocation period is over, having to have that talk with the child, hearing them say even once that I'm not their real mother, knowing that eventually they'll want to find their bio mom and me feeling like I wasn't enough if they need that. Yes they grew within someone else for 9 months but I was there for 18 years! I'm their real mom. And you can forget about those huggy feely open adoptions where the bio mom comes to visit for Christmas and birthdays. No..no..no you can't have your cake and eat it too, darn it. Not in my world. And what bio mom is going to pick closed off me over open Sally over there. All at once all these thoughts came crashing down on me and they were real not just nimbusy what-ifs. And I realized that I'm terrified. I'm really really scared. And I shouldn't be, right?
Maybe lurking on the adoption board wasn't the right thing to do but I watched these women experience incredible heartbreak from failed matches. I cried for them. They bounced back and tried again and sometimes tragically they had to do it all over yet again. I know that a late failed match will destroy me emotionally. I will not bounce back. The husband agrees and said, 'Well if that happens its the ultimate cosmic signal that we just shouldn't have children at all'. That didn't help at all, though I'm sure he thought it would.
I don't know where I am because the landscape is constantly changing around me, and through its changing its changing me as well.
My real life experience with adoption was limited. The closest I got was a kinship adoption, when my parents took in my 15 year old cousin. For three years she was my sister. I was young, I don't remember the time before her. The day she turned 18 she packed her bags and left, didn't even stay for the party we planned, didn't open her gifts, or eat cake. I didn't see her again for years and by then she had a kid of her own. By then I was angry. I'm still angry with her for leaving us, for taking our love and pretending we were family and then leaving the first chance she got and fracturing my youth.
I used to think adoption was helping someone. But knowing that what I want is infant adoption, I can't help but feel that I'm not really helping someone. There are waiting lists a mile long for infants. If I don't do it, you can darn well bet someone else is eager to take my place in line. And then there are the adopted kids who grow up and talk about how adoption ruined their lives, even if they were placed with loving families. I'm having a hard time seeing the positives anymore.
Rationally I think this is all part of the grieving process. Irrationally I feel like a bad person. The husband has since assured me that he's not ready to start the process either, not yet. That I shouldn't feel bad, but I do. I've always been supportive of adoption, why can't I be supportive of it for me?
I feel like I'm floundering and just plain lost right now.
If you would have asked me two weeks ago, heck even two days ago, about adoption I would have been overly positive and optimisitic, hopeful. Where did that person go? How did she just disappear into thin air?
I could really use some insights, some positive experiences, some reassurance that my emotions right now are normal, anything to shed some light on the situation while I fumble around in the dark.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Nosey Posey
This weekend the husband and I went to a family event. And as seems preresquite for any event nowadays everyone seems inordinately interested in my reproductive timeline. In the two to three hours or so at the cookout I was prodded no less than 4 times about kids. Really people is it any of your business? Why is it so freaking important to you? *sigh*
The first came inocuously enough from a friend of my uncle's, "So when are you gonna have kids?" Let's ignore the fact that you basically just became a thundercloud on an otherwise pretty day. I shrugged, "I don't know." This has been my go to response of late. It's honest without being revealing. She smiles softly, "You're trying though?" I nodded quietly, squirming. "Ah well it will happen eventually." I nodded again, "Eventually," and moved away trying to dislodge the little knife she plunked into my chest. I'd been there less than ten minutes. Shake it off, shake it off.
Maybe an hour later, maybe, a friend of my grandma's sat down in front of me. I've never been too awful fond of her, she just exudes mean even when she's smiling. I can't help but think deep down she's a cruel person, you know the kind, the one with the pitch black eyes and a smile that crinkles her cheek wrinkles but not her crows feet. But she's my Nana's oldest friend, they've been the best of friends since they were preteens. That's alot of years, alot of history, even if I hadn't been taught to respect my elders. The last time I saw her was a little over a year ago at my Sil's baby shower. She was interested in my timeline then. She made a rather crass comment about why she thought I wasn't pregnant yet about how I must be 'keeping my legs closed'. So I obviously wasn't looking forward to what was coming next. "So when are you going to give us another grandkid?" My response was the same as before. Surprisingly enough she backed down 'Ah well that's okay. My husband and I waited 3 years after we were married.' The husband and I looked back and forth at each other. He says, 'Well we will have been married for 4 years in about a week or so." Why, dear love, why did you say that? She gets a shocked look on her face. "Well what are you waiting for?! You're going to have him so spoiled that he won't be able to handle loosing all that attention when the baby comes." I laughed softly, when I wanted to cry, "Oh he knows how to share the attention. We have two kitty cats who get a lot of love." And her response, "Oh well he can kill the cats." My jaw dropped open. He can what?!!! You mean old biddy. I wanted to get up and leave right then. I made myself laugh again, "Not if he wanted to stay married." Then excused myself to get some cake wondering what the hell is wrong with that woman.
A few minutes later my brother, his wife, and my niece show up. Everyone goes gaga over the baby. There's more than one comment about how the she looks like me. Thanks, twist that knife will ya. Like I need another reminder that there's a good chance I may never have a child who looks like me or my husband or anyone in my family. I slink away trying desperately to slide off the radar for a little while. There's a couple more passing comments about me having kids. Nobody lingers thankfully. After a while Little bit gets passed around to me. I swear everyone at an entire table swivels to look at me as soon as I'm holding her. Old women lean in and whisper. Camera flashes are going off. Really? Never seen a woman holding a baby?! More pictures got taken in those few minutes I was holding Little bit than in the entire party. Then the same woman from earlier in the party comes back around. Apparently not content with her first swipe at me, "See this is why you have to hurry up!" I smile so you can't see that I'm clenching my teeth so hard they hurt. If I had any control in this process at all... Gah, I wanted to punch her. I see my husband looking at me from across the yard, with that sympathetic look.
What the heck is wrong with these people? No one ever stops to consider that not everyone has an easy time of it. No one thinks that someone else is hurting inside and is desperately trying to make it through just one normal day.
When we finally got home hubby says he finally understands how hard it is for me, for any woman going through infertility because of the endless questions, the expectations, the judgement, even the shaming that goes with being of a certain married age and childless. He says next time he'll step in and say 'We're adopting and we accept checks.' Hopefully that'll shut them up. Not real sure I like that idea since we haven't actually made that decision yet. Even though we certainly seem to be leaning that way.
So for those of you who are on the opposite side of this fence...Stop asking people when they're going to have children. Stop prodding into when, you might as well ask how while you're at it. Take a few moments out of your life to consider that there might be more going on then you know. That someone might be fighting what could be the most emotionally draining battle of their life. You are not helping.
The first came inocuously enough from a friend of my uncle's, "So when are you gonna have kids?" Let's ignore the fact that you basically just became a thundercloud on an otherwise pretty day. I shrugged, "I don't know." This has been my go to response of late. It's honest without being revealing. She smiles softly, "You're trying though?" I nodded quietly, squirming. "Ah well it will happen eventually." I nodded again, "Eventually," and moved away trying to dislodge the little knife she plunked into my chest. I'd been there less than ten minutes. Shake it off, shake it off.
Maybe an hour later, maybe, a friend of my grandma's sat down in front of me. I've never been too awful fond of her, she just exudes mean even when she's smiling. I can't help but think deep down she's a cruel person, you know the kind, the one with the pitch black eyes and a smile that crinkles her cheek wrinkles but not her crows feet. But she's my Nana's oldest friend, they've been the best of friends since they were preteens. That's alot of years, alot of history, even if I hadn't been taught to respect my elders. The last time I saw her was a little over a year ago at my Sil's baby shower. She was interested in my timeline then. She made a rather crass comment about why she thought I wasn't pregnant yet about how I must be 'keeping my legs closed'. So I obviously wasn't looking forward to what was coming next. "So when are you going to give us another grandkid?" My response was the same as before. Surprisingly enough she backed down 'Ah well that's okay. My husband and I waited 3 years after we were married.' The husband and I looked back and forth at each other. He says, 'Well we will have been married for 4 years in about a week or so." Why, dear love, why did you say that? She gets a shocked look on her face. "Well what are you waiting for?! You're going to have him so spoiled that he won't be able to handle loosing all that attention when the baby comes." I laughed softly, when I wanted to cry, "Oh he knows how to share the attention. We have two kitty cats who get a lot of love." And her response, "Oh well he can kill the cats." My jaw dropped open. He can what?!!! You mean old biddy. I wanted to get up and leave right then. I made myself laugh again, "Not if he wanted to stay married." Then excused myself to get some cake wondering what the hell is wrong with that woman.
A few minutes later my brother, his wife, and my niece show up. Everyone goes gaga over the baby. There's more than one comment about how the she looks like me. Thanks, twist that knife will ya. Like I need another reminder that there's a good chance I may never have a child who looks like me or my husband or anyone in my family. I slink away trying desperately to slide off the radar for a little while. There's a couple more passing comments about me having kids. Nobody lingers thankfully. After a while Little bit gets passed around to me. I swear everyone at an entire table swivels to look at me as soon as I'm holding her. Old women lean in and whisper. Camera flashes are going off. Really? Never seen a woman holding a baby?! More pictures got taken in those few minutes I was holding Little bit than in the entire party. Then the same woman from earlier in the party comes back around. Apparently not content with her first swipe at me, "See this is why you have to hurry up!" I smile so you can't see that I'm clenching my teeth so hard they hurt. If I had any control in this process at all... Gah, I wanted to punch her. I see my husband looking at me from across the yard, with that sympathetic look.
What the heck is wrong with these people? No one ever stops to consider that not everyone has an easy time of it. No one thinks that someone else is hurting inside and is desperately trying to make it through just one normal day.
When we finally got home hubby says he finally understands how hard it is for me, for any woman going through infertility because of the endless questions, the expectations, the judgement, even the shaming that goes with being of a certain married age and childless. He says next time he'll step in and say 'We're adopting and we accept checks.' Hopefully that'll shut them up. Not real sure I like that idea since we haven't actually made that decision yet. Even though we certainly seem to be leaning that way.
So for those of you who are on the opposite side of this fence...Stop asking people when they're going to have children. Stop prodding into when, you might as well ask how while you're at it. Take a few moments out of your life to consider that there might be more going on then you know. That someone might be fighting what could be the most emotionally draining battle of their life. You are not helping.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Random What If...
Today's random what-if is brought to you by insomnia.
What if you were the suspect of a murder or other horrific crime? Innocent mind you of whatever you've been accused of. When the news crews swarm people you know, love, or just see on the street, what will they say about you? What will be the words plastered all over the six oclock news that will come to define who you are in the public eye and play a role in your trial?
Let's analyze my darling husband first, I've heard all of these about him before.
Dependable. Hard-Worker. Nice Guy. Funny.
I think he's got a fair shake. More than likely someone will say 'I just don't believe it,' and really really mean it.
Ok my turn. Again I'll use words that I've actually heard before in reference to me.
Quiet. Loner. Socially Awkward. Intimidating. Weird. Freakishly Intelligent(yes someone has actually used that phrase but then again she was a bubblegum blowing, hair twirling, clueless kinda girl so there may not be much to it.)
Oh shit. I'm screwed. I'm really really screwed. The kids I went to highschool will say, "well there was always something a little off about her." And the reporters will probably stop there not bothering to dig deeper to discover that I have panic attacks related to social anxiety, have volunteered at several charity functions, and cried all day long the one time I hit a dog in the road. (There was ice and snow on the road, I hit my brakes, they started to lock, I slid towards the ditch, and I knew I no longer had a choice and let off the brakes to bring the car under control. Still bothers me.) They won't search out my few friends who'll tell them how protective I am of anyone in trouble, that I'm a good listener, or as the lady at the gym put it last week that I'm inspirational.In short pretty well incapable of being the perp. Because the face the world sees is completely different than the true face. I've worked really hard to change that in the eight years since highschool and my first job, and to an extent I've been successful on some levels but it's been an uphill battle. I now have a business 'switch' which for the few hours I'm in front of a client makes me the friendly smiley happy person I want to be. The second they're gone though I'm curled up in a ball trying to recharge or shaking out the nerves from my hands.
I'm not being over-dramatic. For kicks I postulated this scenario to my husband the other night. He immediately said, "Yeah, I've worried about that before." Great. Even you think I wouldn't have a snowball's chance.
To end this random what if post...
What would the world say about you? Would they be right on target or nowhere near the truth? Would you have a snowball's chance?
What if you were the suspect of a murder or other horrific crime? Innocent mind you of whatever you've been accused of. When the news crews swarm people you know, love, or just see on the street, what will they say about you? What will be the words plastered all over the six oclock news that will come to define who you are in the public eye and play a role in your trial?
Let's analyze my darling husband first, I've heard all of these about him before.
Dependable. Hard-Worker. Nice Guy. Funny.
I think he's got a fair shake. More than likely someone will say 'I just don't believe it,' and really really mean it.
Ok my turn. Again I'll use words that I've actually heard before in reference to me.
Quiet. Loner. Socially Awkward. Intimidating. Weird. Freakishly Intelligent(yes someone has actually used that phrase but then again she was a bubblegum blowing, hair twirling, clueless kinda girl so there may not be much to it.)
Oh shit. I'm screwed. I'm really really screwed. The kids I went to highschool will say, "well there was always something a little off about her." And the reporters will probably stop there not bothering to dig deeper to discover that I have panic attacks related to social anxiety, have volunteered at several charity functions, and cried all day long the one time I hit a dog in the road. (There was ice and snow on the road, I hit my brakes, they started to lock, I slid towards the ditch, and I knew I no longer had a choice and let off the brakes to bring the car under control. Still bothers me.) They won't search out my few friends who'll tell them how protective I am of anyone in trouble, that I'm a good listener, or as the lady at the gym put it last week that I'm inspirational.In short pretty well incapable of being the perp. Because the face the world sees is completely different than the true face. I've worked really hard to change that in the eight years since highschool and my first job, and to an extent I've been successful on some levels but it's been an uphill battle. I now have a business 'switch' which for the few hours I'm in front of a client makes me the friendly smiley happy person I want to be. The second they're gone though I'm curled up in a ball trying to recharge or shaking out the nerves from my hands.
I'm not being over-dramatic. For kicks I postulated this scenario to my husband the other night. He immediately said, "Yeah, I've worried about that before." Great. Even you think I wouldn't have a snowball's chance.
To end this random what if post...
What would the world say about you? Would they be right on target or nowhere near the truth? Would you have a snowball's chance?
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