Le Temps Est Un Cadeau

image: brungrrl
I have to admit that, these past few days, I have been having a hard time appreciating the gift that I have been given. What is the gift? Time. Time to heal, time to reflect, time to be. I have been having the urge to jump back into the fray as soon as possible. But why? Why do I want to get back on the rollercoaster so quickly when I know how hard it is?

Maybe so that I don't feel as much of a failure. Maybe so I can feel as if I have a chance again. Maybe so I can "skip" the grieving process which is not particularly fun. Maybe so I can feel as if every month is not another month nine months forward that I won't have a live baby in my arms. Because my desire is simple: a baby. From me and from him. One sweet, soft baby. And every month we are waiting for my HCG to go down, every month we can't get pregnant on our own, is another month away from that sweet little gift.

I know that I need this time to heal and to regroup. But, I also know that I want time to stand still so that when we do start again, we haven't lost any time.

The List *Updated*

Believe it or not, I can remember a time when I wasn't trying to get pregnant, getting treatment for infertility, being worried while pregnant, or dealing with a miscarriage. I hardly noticed pregnant women and if I did, frankly, I was immensely relieved that it was not me.

Sweetie and I just lived. We renovated our house, raised our kitties and enjoyed the first few years of being married. I look back on that time now and wonder, can I do it again? I don't know the answer to that question. I certainly don't think that I can live in the same blissful ignorance that I did back then - we had no idea we were going to have problems. In fact, I was incredibly paranoid about not getting pregnant. It turns out that this paranoia was totally misplaced as I was almost 100% infertile due to completely blocked fallopian tubes.

But, I think the first step to taking a break and regaining my non-infertility life, is to go back to that time and remember what made me happy. It was pretty simple: Sweetie, my kitties, interior decorating, planning our renovation (we renovated a 75 year old house and it turned out fabulously), doing the renovation, my job, learning, and enjoying time with our friends, all of whom were just married or engaged.

We now live in a different city and do not have a 75 year-old house, but rather an 18-year old house that used to have carpeting in the bathrooms (I shit you not) and most of those friends who we used to hang out with live in our old town and have kids. But, there are still things here that bring me joy - planning on how I am going to renovate the kitchen, gardening, sewing, cross-stitch, and of course, the furry beasties (including Sweetie). It occurred to me, though, that if I am going to take a true sabbatical from infertility, which is what I had planned, I should fulfill the purpose of a sabbatical: to learn a new skill or fulfill a goal.

As a multitasker and chronic overachiever, I actually have multiple goals. Here are the main ones:

* Learn how to be happy with what I have, not what I want. I have no problem with this with respect to material things like cars, houses, etc. I don't covet my neighbor's Yukon (particularly not with these gas prices) and I don't want the giant house down the street (its disproportionate). But, when it comes to pregnancy and babies, I can't seem to get past the envy and WANT.

* Learn some new distracting skills. I think I want to learn jewelry making and how to play bridge. Luckily, our local school district offers classes in both.

* Read, read, read. I'm seriously behind in my magazine reading (I subscribe to the Atlantic which I love, but I'm still on October 2007's edition - and it's a monthly!) and I'm still on a quest to enhance my literature repertoire. For example, Great Expectations has been sitting in my nightstand drawer for years and I still haven't read it.

* Reconnect with Sweetie in areas other than infertility. Without a doubt, infertility has strengthened our marriage, but so many of our conversations these past few years have been about the trials and tribulations. We are starting to talk more about non-infertility plans and futures. I want to continue with that.

* Get a pooch. We have two of the most adorable kitties on the planet (seriously, mine are way cuter than yours. Really.), but I've always wanted a dog. We have gone to the shelter twice now in search of The One and so far, no luck. But we are in no hurry and we know that we'll find The One eventually.

* Be more comfortable with pregnant women. I know this sounds strange and strangely infertility-related, but I have to do this. It's the only way that I will be able to make it through however much longer we have before we get the two-legged non-furry child that we want. I can't keep avoiding them and getting depressed.

New Additions

* Limber up. My friend reminded me that I wanted to also start doing yoga again. I had given it up because of concerns about twisting my drug-swollen ovaries (Dr. Uterus did have a patient who did her favorite pose - a head stand - in the middle of an IVF cycle and ended up with ovarian torsion). Once they have settled down, I will check out the new studio that is near my house. Sweetie and I have also started a daily exercise regimen. We walk every evening after work in our neighborhood and are slowly working up the number of miles. We also did some hiking. I was extremely fortunate that I didn't gain weight on stims (in fact, I got thinner), but I lost a lot of muscle mass which I want to get back.

I'm sure I'll think of some more, but as you can see, I have a pretty full and challenging agenda. All of it, though, is designed to reach that true nirvana - peace, no matter what we end up getting in this crap shoot called life.

The Audacity of Hope

When I started this blog, we were fully looking forward to fulfilling the experiment, that is taking a year off from everything having to do wtih getting and staying pregnant. Then, things took an interesting detour. The detour is now over, but it didn't end before we started to have a glimmer of hope that this break wouldn't be needed after all. We even talked about postponing our trip to Paris if things continued to progress. We decided to put off getting a pooch. I don't think we can blame ourselves for having these thoughts - for two full weeks we had hope. The temptation to chastise oneself for such indulgences, however, is great.

But, now, we have to get used to the idea of taking a break all over again. I am so very tired of this undulating curve of shifting expectations and part of me is relieved that I get to get off the train. I had just gotten comfortable in my seat, though.

At the very least, I am pretty much guaranteed a train-ride free next several months. Of course, that's what I thought last time. So, Paris is on, we will begin to look for a pooch and the year will start all over again. And we will try to remember that there is life outside this nasty thing called infertility and loss.

Meh.

Sweetie and I splurge each month for a subscription to HBO and it has brought us untold riches - Rome, Big Love, and a host of other fabulous programming (but not, Tell Me You Love Me, which to me seemed like Thirtysomething with uninteresting sex). So, we were pretty interested in the latest offering of John Adams, based upon the tome by David McCullough. We were immediately intrigued with the casting of Laura Linney and Paul Giammati.

(In the interest of total impartiality, I should dicslose that I bought the book and read about 1/3 before I got hopelessly bored. Let's face it - Ben Franklin was much more interesting. Sweetie did read the whole thing, in fits and starts.)

It got off to a pretty slow start and my interest waned pretty quickly. It took a real nose dive once I realized that without his wig thing-y, he bears an unbelievable resemblance to Uncle Fester from the Addams Family:



I shared my observation with Sweetie, who immediately agreed and we spent the rest of the two episodes imaging light bulbs coming out of John Adams/Paul Giamatti's mouth whenever he was wigless. It was distracting, to say the least.

All in all, I thought the first two episodes were meh. I am also slightly concerned that my reaction is due to some issue with ADD where my attention can only be captured by programming that is lurid and involves lots of gratuitous sex, neither of which feature in this miniseries.

Or maybe, it really was just meh and TV Guide, the New Yorker, Newsweek and The Washington Post were all smoking crack.

The First Step

Despite the recent drama (apparently, I am - for now - still pregnant), I am well-versed in the fleeting nature of good news. We are still moving forward as if this pregnancy will also end and we will take a much-needed break from all things involving baby-making (except for that sex thing. That's fun). Paris is still most-definitely on.

Part of my Official Break Plan was to aggressively look for and adopt a poochie. I've been angling for a dog for months now and I have finally broken down Sweetie's resistance to adding more fur to the house. We went to a local no-kill shelter yesterday as the first step in this process. We saw lots of fur, and heard lots and lots of barking, but there was no poochie that really gave us the "we-were-meant-for-each-other" vibe. Of course, I should admit that I didn't have that vibe with Sweetie when I first met him either. To be frank, I thought he looked a little dorky - until he smiled that is. Oh, that smile.

Anywho, I digest. I've heard from several people who have adopted dogs that you really need to have that "spark". Our friends who adopted their dog from the same shelter that we went to yesterday knew immediately that she was for them (and vice versa). We never had that moment yesterday. But, that doesn't mean we won't.

We'll keep looking, although, we may not really get earnest about adopting until after we come back from Paris.
image: Sherly's Boys

To Quilt or Not to Quilt

I had wanted to take sewing lessons for some time, but there was always some impediment in the way (like a lack of a sewing machine for starters). I saw that my local school district, however, had partnered with a local sewing store to offer classes on beginning sewing. Best of all, you didn't have to have your own machine - you could use one of theirs.

So, I finally signed up last fall. I was frustrated at the beginning because I just couldn't figure out the machine and the thinking that goes into making something. Eventually, though, I got the hang of it. By the end of the classes, I decided to buy the machine and continue to sew.

Most of my projects since the classes ended have been from magazines and I have essentially taught myself the techniques required to do them. Frankly, I find that much more interesting than sitting in a classroom, anyway. I have the basic principles down, now it is a matter of applying them in new ways.

I am now tackling my first quilt. It is my for my best friend who is expecting her first baby in June. I promised her a quilt when she first told me the news even though I was still extremely raw that had achieved what I had so far been unable to do (and without intervention, no less). I procrastinated in picking a pattern and fabrics because starting the quilt would mean that this was really going to happen. Eventually, though, I sucked it up and just started. I found a pattern that I loved (and which she liked a lot, too), and picked the fabrics. A few weeks later, I cut all of the pieces.

And, now I have started to sew. And sew.

I don't know how thrilled I am about the fabric that I picked, but frankly, it's not for me. This is only the beginning, though. I have a lot of work to do before June.

Par Avion

The deed is done. The die has been cast. With a few clicks and keystrokes, we made our reservations for Paris in May. We'll be flying Air France (damn cheap, too) straight to Charles de Gaulle airport.

I have to confess, though, that I'm having a hard time mustering excitement about it right now. Frankly, I'm having a hard time mustering any type of excitement right now about anything, so this is probably not surprising. But, you would think I would feel some sense of accomplishment that we've taken that solid step.

Or maybe, I get a bigger kick out of talking about going to Paris ("Oh yes, darling, we're going to Paris for the spring. Do call when we get back.") than making the mundane travel plans. Or, maybe, as with everything in my life these days, I'm just not letting myself get excited until I'm on the way.

Either way, I will start brushing up on my French ("Voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir?") and pondering how high up I will be able to go.

Je m'appelle Mrs. X. Parlez-vous français?

Letting Go 101

My father was the first person to raise the possibility of taking a long, extended break from the roller coaster that is infertility last week after my second miscarriage was confirmed. At the time, I wasn't really keen on it. I wanted to jump right back in and try to get pregnant again (and hopefully have it stick this time).

But, the more I thought about it, pondered the ramifications, thought about the freedom from the tyranny of appointments and my cycle, the more attractive the whole thing became. I haven't had a voluntary break from infertility for quite a while. The last few breaks were due to cysts from the infertility drugs that benched me for another medicated cycle. I accepted those breaks, but I didn't choose them.

Infertility has a particularly excellent talent for robbing you of your sense of control over your life. There are very few times when you feel as if you have some control while you are going through infertility. Deciding to step away from the medical buffet would be one of those few times.

Initially, we have decided to take three months off. That three months started on February 28, 2008 when I learned that I was going to have my second miscarriage in a row. My doctor told me that I could start another cycle as soon as April. We're going to try to make it at least until May.

What to do in the mean time? Maybe I'll just ponder.

image: Swiv