* If you don't know what "M/C, IVF, IF, Loss, PG ment" - you are a lucky one. For those who know, consider yourself warned.*
My name is Kim, and I am an infertility survivor. Infertile is something I will always be; medical books may attempt to disprove me (due to my beautiful miracle daughter). But, I still consider myself an infertile, yet one who is luckily (and thankfully) on "the other side."
This is infertility awareness week. I have been pondering, what can I say about this topic still. I can tell you how many of my friends are now on "the other side" of this, I can tell you how a few are months away from being on the other side. But, truthfully, this is my blog it's all about me, and my experiences. This is my truth.
I started treatments over 10 years ago, and I became a mother almost 5 years ago. Since becoming a Mother, I guess, the world thought I'd forget all about that pesky infertility stuff. I'm a Mom now, why worry about:
Others starting on Clomid?
Public Opinion: "You know that pill will make you have multiple births! I read that on the Internet somewhere."
Why worry about people doing IUI's?
Public Perception: "She had to put his "stuff" in a brown paper sack and the doctor put it in her, like using some turkey baster. During their LUNCH hour, can you believe it?
Why worry about people doing IVF?
Public Thoughts: "IVF, what's that isn't that what that octo-mom did? Or that lady on 20/20 who birthed the wrong baby?"
Why worry about couples who turn to donor eggs, or donor sperm or surrogacy?
Public Perception: "They really should look into adoption, it's so much easier."
I do still worry; each and every story I hear STILL pangs me in my heart. I will not lie, it's not such a visceral reaction, like it was 10 years ago, but, it is still there. Hearing an unexpected pregnancy, or how it can be so easy to the newly wed couple who planned to get PG their first year of marriage, still stabs a bit. More like a toothpick to the heart, which is much better than the pick-ax it used to be.
The point its, even when you are on the "other side" you never forget. Never. I remember the shots and the pain - both external and internal. The emotional turmoil of it all. Still, I cannot celebrate a the first weeks of pregnancy - infertility took that from me. In my head, I still know the statics. Have a good beta, let it double -- double check numbers with betabase. OK, Ultrasound, is there a sac? A pole? Is the sac empty? Oh a heart beat!!! Maybe two --- this --- this moment I can breath a bit easier for the expectant Mom.
When you've been on that dark side, you know, that heart beat is the key in the early days. Next ultrasound, heart beat stronger, GREAT!! Get you to 12 weeks... come on, 12 weeks... YIPPY!!! OK, I breathe a bit better, still thinking of stats, and of fellow IF survivors. Others who made it "this far." You then think of 15 weeks - to do an amnio or not? Genetic testing? Okay, OH 19 weeks, yes lets find gender and let me find that heart beat again.
For me, when I reached 25 weeks, I cried. I knew, 25 weeks is when viability can happen. On both sides of the coin, I can name babies who beat the odds and graduated the NICU, and others who are beautiful little angels. Yet, for me, I exhaled. At that point, the longer in, the better..... except for those few. Those few who made it to 25-36+weeks, who prepared for a birth, and came home to emptiness.
The birth, the LIVE birth, the healthy APGAR. Then, THEN I can exhale for the infertility survivor. You've made it to the "other side." You now get to parent this extraordinary child. YOUR child is special, we get that. You fought tooth and nail for him/her. Always wanted; always loved- before you were every conceived. YOU were what made us a family.
We know YOU are special, you are not like every other kid. Your story is NOT like every other Mom's PG and birthstory. You have a backstory, I have a picture of you when you were 8 cells big. Top that one playground Moms, while you were drunk in Mexico growing a life of eight cells, mine was in a petri dish waiting to be put back in the womb. We celebrated with Sprite, not Corona.
Even with your arms filled, you still feel the pang. The announcement of the surprise pregnancy, the "super fertile" couple, and the "planned for this" pregnancy. I can't lie, you still feel it. Five years of parenting two super awesome kids, I still feel it.
But, the one that hits you in the heart, and takes the breath from you, is a hearing a fellow sister filled your infertility shoes. She's the one who is now hearing the horrible advice...
"Just relax."
"Just get drunk on Boones farm and be wild in a pick-up truck."
"Infertile? Nah, you're fine, just keep trying. Did you hear so-and-so is pregnant?"
"Try cough syrup, I hear that helps."
"Have you elevated your hips and legs after yet?"
"Maybe you should lose some weight first?"
"Just stop worrying about it."
"It will be your turn soon."
"Maybe God doesn't think you supposed to be a parent."
"Maybe you should just adopt."
"Wow, you have it all. These kids are driving me crazy. Enjoy your child free life."
Sister, I'm sorry you are in my shoes. I'm even sorrier that well intentioned people are still passing on the same unhelpful advise. All you can do, is be kind to yourself, be kind to your mate, and try to find patience and faith you never knew was possible. The survivors "on the other side" are rooting for you; you might not know us, or our spouses, but we are rooting for you. May your journey be short and quick, and let's retire those shoes you filled.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Peace, Love and Running
I ran a 10K pregnant. I never would have know, at the time CC was maybe the size of a lemon seed. A couple weeks later, I took a test that was positive; then I knew she ran with me the whole way. I remember that race.
A group of us decided to lace on our shoes and run a 10K on Thanksgiving Day. Being in the middle of the adoption process, I had a lot to be thankful for. One thing was, I was thankful someone was watching Connor so he did not have to run with us that cold day. I remember it began to snow as we crested the bridge to cross back into Ohio from Kentucky. My concern, "Where is my inhaler?"
The next year, as I grew bigger and bigger, Jeff and Katy decided to run a 1/2 marathon. Obviously, being a million months pregnant, and chasing a 10 month old, my training time was none existent. But, we were a racing family. The day before the race, Connor entered his first race, The Diaper Dash, While he was not very dash like, it was still fun and he got his first medal. That is part of the fun of races, the atmosphere of fun that surrounds them. Supporting family, friends and strangers.
Fast forward, After CC was born, again, I laced on my shoes to train for the Thanksgiving Day Race again.
That year, the sun was shiny, it was a great day to run. I remember a few fears of, will we all be able to meet us and find each other post race? Of course we did and a few hours later we all feasted on Turkey and Pie.
2011, Jeff did the half marathon again, and Katy went for the full Flying Pig Marathon. Her goal, to to a marathon in each state. How cool is that?! But, that year, the kids and I went from stop to stop looking and cheering for Aunt Katy.
Thanks to technology, it was easy to track her so we could meet us to cheer for her (and give her dry socks). As we (Connor, Calista and I) waited for her, Connor ran up to high five people for motivation. There we are around mile 18 and this sweet little man is cheering for complete strangers. I know it helped a few, how could a high five from a 3 year old NOT boost you up?!
Later on that year, Jeff and I pushed the kids at our Cheetah run at the Zoo. Then, our group did the Turkey Run again. This time, I made us matching hats AND included the kids. I was the double stroller pusher. That race has a great story that involves, a liquor store, Connor and a guy washing his hair. That story is here.
The bottom line, race after race. If I was running, or walking, or watching, I NEVER EVER feared for my safety. Obviously, I felt safe, I brought my CHILDREN with me. When it was just me, I was concerned about:
Will I have to poop?
Will I have a massive asthma attack?
Will I find Jeff post race?
If this runner goes down in front of me, can I still do CPR?
With the kids:
I hope no one has to pee.
Will the Iphone battery last?
Please just sit in the stroller and enjoy the snacks
Enjoy the sights kids, this will be a fun run.
When running with the kids, I wanted them to feel the energy in the air as runners and walkers finished their race. I wanted them to experience cheering for strangers and seeing a SMILE cross the face of the people they cheered for. Connor and CC loved it. So, I sucked it up and began pushing them so THEY can race with us. Jeff has the longest legs and stride, so he races, then doubles back to find me. We have done 3 races as a family of four. I really enjoy it. Being a role model for the kids that fitness can be fun, that running is a FAMILY sport.
Hearing of Boston, in my head, all I can think of is waiting at the finish line to get a great picture of Katy finishing. The finish is were the love is, where the excitement is, where the moment of "I DID IT" is. The finish line is joy. However, now, how many of us are going to get close to that line and feel a bit of fear now. How many race back packs sitting on the ground will you look at with a bit of unease. Or a trash can?
The tragedy at Boston has ruined something safe. Like Columbine stabbed me in the heart, making school no longer safe; September 11th, making us question our safety flying, and now marathons?
There is so MUCH to be concerned about when racing (walking or running), and explosive devices never EVER made it on a list of mine. Bad underwear and a poor choice of socks, yes. Being hit by shrapnel, God no. Never in a million years.
Like many Americans, I have stepped into a school since Columbine and felt safe, I have safely flown numerous times since September 11th, and it looks like I will keep on racing. Even if I end up walking more than running, I'm still a lacing up my shoes to go out. You know why, becasue I want to lead by example for these two smiling faces that look back me huffing and puffing.
Trying not to let fear control me is difficult. Sending my child to kindergarten in the wake of the children massacred in Newton, CT frightens the hell out of me. Trying to explain to my son, how to keep himself safe during a lock down makes me nauseated. Explaining the NEED for a lock down is going to be difficult.
I sat on the couch last night debating, if I just stayed home with the kids. If we never left, we'd be safe. But, that's really no way to live, maybe to survive, yes, but not to LIVE.
I need to keep my family safe, but we all need to continue living. We need to continue to know there is more good than bad, and more love than hate. Here is hoping my children are wiser than my generation and generations before me, maybe they will be the ones the are able to turn the world around to be a more peaceful place.
A group of us decided to lace on our shoes and run a 10K on Thanksgiving Day. Being in the middle of the adoption process, I had a lot to be thankful for. One thing was, I was thankful someone was watching Connor so he did not have to run with us that cold day. I remember it began to snow as we crested the bridge to cross back into Ohio from Kentucky. My concern, "Where is my inhaler?"
The next year, as I grew bigger and bigger, Jeff and Katy decided to run a 1/2 marathon. Obviously, being a million months pregnant, and chasing a 10 month old, my training time was none existent. But, we were a racing family. The day before the race, Connor entered his first race, The Diaper Dash, While he was not very dash like, it was still fun and he got his first medal. That is part of the fun of races, the atmosphere of fun that surrounds them. Supporting family, friends and strangers.
Fast forward, After CC was born, again, I laced on my shoes to train for the Thanksgiving Day Race again.
2011, Jeff did the half marathon again, and Katy went for the full Flying Pig Marathon. Her goal, to to a marathon in each state. How cool is that?! But, that year, the kids and I went from stop to stop looking and cheering for Aunt Katy.
Thanks to technology, it was easy to track her so we could meet us to cheer for her (and give her dry socks). As we (Connor, Calista and I) waited for her, Connor ran up to high five people for motivation. There we are around mile 18 and this sweet little man is cheering for complete strangers. I know it helped a few, how could a high five from a 3 year old NOT boost you up?!
 |
| Connor, my cheerleader |
 |
| Going to hug Aunt Katy |
The kids and I went to the finish chute to cheer on Aunt Katy too. 
The bottom line, race after race. If I was running, or walking, or watching, I NEVER EVER feared for my safety. Obviously, I felt safe, I brought my CHILDREN with me. When it was just me, I was concerned about:
Will I have to poop?
Will I have a massive asthma attack?
Will I find Jeff post race?
If this runner goes down in front of me, can I still do CPR?
With the kids:
I hope no one has to pee.
Will the Iphone battery last?
Please just sit in the stroller and enjoy the snacks
Enjoy the sights kids, this will be a fun run.
When running with the kids, I wanted them to feel the energy in the air as runners and walkers finished their race. I wanted them to experience cheering for strangers and seeing a SMILE cross the face of the people they cheered for. Connor and CC loved it. So, I sucked it up and began pushing them so THEY can race with us. Jeff has the longest legs and stride, so he races, then doubles back to find me. We have done 3 races as a family of four. I really enjoy it. Being a role model for the kids that fitness can be fun, that running is a FAMILY sport.
Hearing of Boston, in my head, all I can think of is waiting at the finish line to get a great picture of Katy finishing. The finish is were the love is, where the excitement is, where the moment of "I DID IT" is. The finish line is joy. However, now, how many of us are going to get close to that line and feel a bit of fear now. How many race back packs sitting on the ground will you look at with a bit of unease. Or a trash can?
The tragedy at Boston has ruined something safe. Like Columbine stabbed me in the heart, making school no longer safe; September 11th, making us question our safety flying, and now marathons?
There is so MUCH to be concerned about when racing (walking or running), and explosive devices never EVER made it on a list of mine. Bad underwear and a poor choice of socks, yes. Being hit by shrapnel, God no. Never in a million years.
Like many Americans, I have stepped into a school since Columbine and felt safe, I have safely flown numerous times since September 11th, and it looks like I will keep on racing. Even if I end up walking more than running, I'm still a lacing up my shoes to go out. You know why, becasue I want to lead by example for these two smiling faces that look back me huffing and puffing.
Trying not to let fear control me is difficult. Sending my child to kindergarten in the wake of the children massacred in Newton, CT frightens the hell out of me. Trying to explain to my son, how to keep himself safe during a lock down makes me nauseated. Explaining the NEED for a lock down is going to be difficult.
I sat on the couch last night debating, if I just stayed home with the kids. If we never left, we'd be safe. But, that's really no way to live, maybe to survive, yes, but not to LIVE.
I need to keep my family safe, but we all need to continue living. We need to continue to know there is more good than bad, and more love than hate. Here is hoping my children are wiser than my generation and generations before me, maybe they will be the ones the are able to turn the world around to be a more peaceful place.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
It's like Motel 6- We leave the light on for You....
"OK, Mommy, leave the door open a crack. OK?"
"OK, Ceese. No problem. I love you good night. Sweet dreams."
"Just one more hug and kiss, Mommy."
And so it begins....
A few weeks ago, "something" changed. I have no idea what, but that switch that says, "Yes, today, I shall be scared of the dark and shall mess with my parents until I bore of it" was turned on. I am lucky as hell that Connor's switch is broken, he has his issues, but nothing, NOTHING like my little hot mess of a daughter. Turns out, my lovely daughter, takes after her hot mess of a Mother. Let's back track about 30 years or so.
My bedroom was on the bottom floor of a two family house. The house had a backyard that eventually ended in a line of freaky trees. It was not a huge yard, but big enough. While in bed, that backyard transformed into the evil forest that swallowed up Hansel and Gretel, and the Big Bad Wolf stared into my window every night. Or that is what my imagination told me. I was a bit of a nightmare for my Mom when bed time came. Apparently, this has mutated and manifested on some weird gene and transferred to my little angel.
My angel, my awesome sleeper, the kid who slept though anything... Decides sleep was for the weak; the switch turned On. First it was bedtime delay.
"I gotta go potty."
"Read me a book"
"Sing me a song"
"Sing me another song"
"Kiss me"
"Now, a butterfly kiss"
"Now, a nose kiss."
"One more hug"
--- Insert me leaving--- AND....
"I HAFA GO POOP!"
Every.single.night. For weeks this pre and post potty routine. It got to the point, when she had to do the second potty delay tactic, I had to tag in Jeff or I was going to lose my cool. I was ready to start reading her the "Go the F*!k to Bed" book. In fact, I secretly was reciting it in my head as she delayed. I am a bad Mommy.
Then came the waking in the middle of the night, screaming. I would go check on her and ask what happened. For weeks the dream was the same. Over and over the same nightmare. The nightmare, that freaked her out was.................
"Mommy, there were penguins. And they were FLYING. Penguins Can't Fly!"
This, THIS, is the evil dream of my child. A freaking penguin flies and she's ready to escape to Mommy's bed. For weeks, we all slept like crap. Then I went to California for work.
When I returned, the potty delay was GONE. I'm not sure what happened while I was gone, but I was not sad her routine changed. But, then came, "Leave the light on, and crack my door." The door had to be open enough, but not so open the cats could enter in. In her eyes, cats are evil as flying penguins.
Ceese has had a outdoor Christmas Penguin decoration in her room for months. This thing is 36 inches tall. And bright, yet not bright enough. So, we turned on her bedside lamp. Yet, her room was still too scary. Duh, flying penguins freak out EVERYONE.
Now she has a night light, a lamp, a thing that projects on the ceiling (you can't see it due to it's so freaking bright in her room), a flashlight and a pillow pet. It's bright as the SUN in her room at night. Yet, still scary. I indulged her. We moved all her furniture around to remove the scariness. We added another "soothy" I had on her crib. You hit the button, the lion pops up and down, the fish swims; it lights up and plays a cheesy Fisher Price song. With everything illuminated, you can probably see her room from space now.
A few days later, when she came in our room at 5am, I knew the new fung-shui'ed room did nothing. Those damn penguins still flew.
As I have said, for WEEKS we have been trying to help her with this. Then came this morning.
7:30am, she comes in all bright eyed, bushy tailed. Smiling. She gives me a big hug.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, CC."
"I had a great dream last night!"
"Really?" What was it?"
"I had a dream about VAMPIRES! It was Great! I was one of them!"
Dumbfounded, my words were lost. Vampire dreams are cool, penguins that fly are freaky. Tis the logic of a crazied 3.5 year old. I hope she continues to dream of vampires, then we can all get great sleep.
"OK, Ceese. No problem. I love you good night. Sweet dreams."
"Just one more hug and kiss, Mommy."
And so it begins....
A few weeks ago, "something" changed. I have no idea what, but that switch that says, "Yes, today, I shall be scared of the dark and shall mess with my parents until I bore of it" was turned on. I am lucky as hell that Connor's switch is broken, he has his issues, but nothing, NOTHING like my little hot mess of a daughter. Turns out, my lovely daughter, takes after her hot mess of a Mother. Let's back track about 30 years or so.
My bedroom was on the bottom floor of a two family house. The house had a backyard that eventually ended in a line of freaky trees. It was not a huge yard, but big enough. While in bed, that backyard transformed into the evil forest that swallowed up Hansel and Gretel, and the Big Bad Wolf stared into my window every night. Or that is what my imagination told me. I was a bit of a nightmare for my Mom when bed time came. Apparently, this has mutated and manifested on some weird gene and transferred to my little angel.
My angel, my awesome sleeper, the kid who slept though anything... Decides sleep was for the weak; the switch turned On. First it was bedtime delay.
"I gotta go potty."
"Read me a book"
"Sing me a song"
"Sing me another song"
"Kiss me"
"Now, a butterfly kiss"
"Now, a nose kiss."
"One more hug"
--- Insert me leaving--- AND....
"I HAFA GO POOP!"
Every.single.night. For weeks this pre and post potty routine. It got to the point, when she had to do the second potty delay tactic, I had to tag in Jeff or I was going to lose my cool. I was ready to start reading her the "Go the F*!k to Bed" book. In fact, I secretly was reciting it in my head as she delayed. I am a bad Mommy.
Then came the waking in the middle of the night, screaming. I would go check on her and ask what happened. For weeks the dream was the same. Over and over the same nightmare. The nightmare, that freaked her out was.................
"Mommy, there were penguins. And they were FLYING. Penguins Can't Fly!"
This, THIS, is the evil dream of my child. A freaking penguin flies and she's ready to escape to Mommy's bed. For weeks, we all slept like crap. Then I went to California for work.
When I returned, the potty delay was GONE. I'm not sure what happened while I was gone, but I was not sad her routine changed. But, then came, "Leave the light on, and crack my door." The door had to be open enough, but not so open the cats could enter in. In her eyes, cats are evil as flying penguins.
Ceese has had a outdoor Christmas Penguin decoration in her room for months. This thing is 36 inches tall. And bright, yet not bright enough. So, we turned on her bedside lamp. Yet, her room was still too scary. Duh, flying penguins freak out EVERYONE.
Now she has a night light, a lamp, a thing that projects on the ceiling (you can't see it due to it's so freaking bright in her room), a flashlight and a pillow pet. It's bright as the SUN in her room at night. Yet, still scary. I indulged her. We moved all her furniture around to remove the scariness. We added another "soothy" I had on her crib. You hit the button, the lion pops up and down, the fish swims; it lights up and plays a cheesy Fisher Price song. With everything illuminated, you can probably see her room from space now.
A few days later, when she came in our room at 5am, I knew the new fung-shui'ed room did nothing. Those damn penguins still flew.
As I have said, for WEEKS we have been trying to help her with this. Then came this morning.
7:30am, she comes in all bright eyed, bushy tailed. Smiling. She gives me a big hug.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, CC."
"I had a great dream last night!"
"Really?" What was it?"
"I had a dream about VAMPIRES! It was Great! I was one of them!"
Dumbfounded, my words were lost. Vampire dreams are cool, penguins that fly are freaky. Tis the logic of a crazied 3.5 year old. I hope she continues to dream of vampires, then we can all get great sleep.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Easter 2013- Photo Parade
Now a parade of Easter Pictures!
First up, neighborhood Easter Egg Hunt, 2013
Then, Easter Egg Hunt at Grandma and Grandpa Howell's Church! Allie found a "golden egg" for Connor!
Then Easter Day... Of course I forgot cute family pictures until the end of the day. But, at least we got a couple.
After bunch, we decided to head to the Zoo. It was the first time the kids ever had their faces painted.
First up, neighborhood Easter Egg Hunt, 2013
Then, Easter Egg Hunt at Grandma and Grandpa Howell's Church! Allie found a "golden egg" for Connor!
 |
| See that coyote in the back ground? CC wanted to ride it... |
 |
| Connor and Lily |
After bunch, we decided to head to the Zoo. It was the first time the kids ever had their faces painted.
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