Why I Am Here

In the past 18 months, I had considered writing on multiple occasions. Multiple barriers stopped me. I primarily used the excuse of lack of time from parenting an infant, working full-time, and then owning a new home. It was difficult to be reflective. But it was more than that. I was conflicted. I had forgotten, or more likely never fully understood, why I started blogging about infertility. So therefore it was difficult to know the future of an infertility blog once motherhood was achieved.

I couldn't put my finger on exactly what was so conflicting until just the other day. Something about Mel's 500th/600th Friday Roundup sparked an epiphany. I'm not sure what it was exactly, but I loved her explanation of how certain blogs stick with her and how she fishes for new gems each week. 

I have found myself returning to read others' blogs more frequently within the past several months. Wanting to catch up on people's lives, people that I have begun to consider distant friends or pen-pals of sorts. Although admittedly I am doing this all without commenting or acknowledging my presence. I'm lurking and I apologize for that. This is what I used to do before I had a blog of my own. Because it feels awkward to comment on someone's post without having a link where they can return to learn more about me if they so choose. Because, to me, lurking seems like the better of two evils then a complete or even semi-stranger making it aware that they know about you. Part of why I started blogging in the first place was to "come out" and join the conversation. 

I realized that other day that I was no longer scouring blogs just to catch-up. I was searching. I am still searching. I am searching for people who understand what I am going through. People who have been there before. People who have survived this. I am searching for answers to unanswered questions about what to do next and what the future might have in store for me. This feels like a direct parallel to how I felt in years past, in the beginning of my journey to motherhood, but surprising because I hadn't expected to be back to this place. 

I have also taken to re-reading my old posts. Over and over. I find comfort in them, even the ones with raw emotion of uncertainty and despair. I have found myself looking back to clarify specific dates, or numbers, or stats that have faded from my memory with time. These numbers were once so important, and then no longer important at all, and now may again be important references. I also find myself wanting to empathize with the person shedding her soul. I have largely forgotten those emotions and reconnecting at this point seems helpful for some reason. As though some of the answers I am searching for are found in my own history. 

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This blog serves as documentation of my infertility journey. I am not a particularly outspoken person, but this blog serves to share my story, in all of it's raw and unflattering details. I do this for myself, so that I return to remember how far that I have come and never forget the toll of an infertility diagnosis even after the largely overcoming it. I do this for others, so that they might find answers and understanding in my words as I have also searched. I do this to be a part of a conversation that needs to become more vocal, less hidden and shameful. 

***

This is not a parenting blog. A huge source of conflict was how to address my daughter now that she was alive and a very real person. Her anonymity and respect for her privacy is important to me. One day I will teach her about social media and all of its benefits and potential problems. But this if for her to learn and figure out how she is portrayed and what she wants to share. As much as I would love sharing about my joys and challenges of parenting, and I am sure that some of that will inevitably filter in from time to time, I could never figure out a way to do this in its entirety while protecting her privacy without turning the blog to private status. While having a private status blog works for many, this didn't feel right and I couldn't grasp why until just now accepting the purpose of my blog. 

This is not a personal journal. Yes, I will write about non-infertility related topics at times because this can also be cathartic and can put the infertility journey in context, but that is is not the purpose. In general, my life is fairly mundane and primarily positive. I have stressors and daily trials like most, but I don't believe that these stories serve much of a greater purpose. Plus, journaling is always too difficult for me to maintain. 

This is not an infertility advocacy or infertility education blog. I hope that it can serve a small advocacy or educational purpose to some, but that is not the primary reason I write. Honestly, I would love to have to the time to serve in more of an advocate or education role for the infertility community. Maybe someday this will be possible. For now, my time and emotional energy in spent on my family and my work/my patients.

***

Some day, I anticipate that my infertility story will come to an end. At some point we will be finished with our family and I will be content with the outcome. The remaining embryos will no longer be in frozen limbo. At some point, I do believe that this blog will be concluded, but not deleted. It will always serve as a document of one person's journey through this [often silent] diagnosis affecting 1 of 8. It will remain, in the archives on the internet, for myself and my child(ren) and, hopefully, for others to happen on and find solace, comfort, and answers to their own questions. 

I am reminded of the moment of when I suddenly and unequivocally realized and accepted that I was a mother, not when she was first placed in my arms, but a quiet moment of breastfeeding when she was three weeks old. My first post in this blog was nearly 3 years ago, albeit with a 1.5 year hiatus. It is with a great sense of satisfaction and slight amusement that I can finally understand and articulate its purpose. 

I'm Back (Microblog*)

Hello, world. Like Episode VII, I have returned after an unknown lull for a new generation. Only I anticipate that my return will have slightly less hype. In fact, it may be more akin to Land Before Time XIV**.

I digress. An entire post is deserved about why I have returned, which I am still sorting out, but the short answer is that I have redefined the purpose of this blog. And by redefined, I mean that I remembered the purpose of creating this blog in the first place. This is the place where I tell my infertility story. As much as I would have liked my story to be ended, wrapped up in a nice little bow with a beautiful daughter, it continues on.

Please allow me to catch you up over the past year-and-a-half of my life. Since December, 2014:

C was hired as an RN in a bone-marrow transplant unit on the oncology building of the main hospital that competes with my employer. He began almost at the same time as I returned to work full-time from maternity leave, which made for a very chaotic time in retrospect. He loves his job but it can be very stressful.

I have returned and continued to be employed as a psychologist, full-time, after a wonderful 12-week maternity leave that I managed from all of my saved-up vacation. My work life has not gotten any less busy, probably the opposite in fact, but I have successfully gotten much better at maintaining my own work-life balance. I almost always leave the office by 5:30 or 6pm at the latest. I have only gone into the office to work on weekends once or twice since returning. I am more efficient at work. I love my job, but have started to consider if reducing my hours would be financially and professionally viable.

We bought a home last summer that I am absolutely in love with, but is requiring more work then I anticipated. This is probably me having been a naive first-time home buyer, telling myself the house was "move-in ready". Which it was, until it required a new septic system that resulted in the lawn being torn up (luckily, this was discovered before closing and thus largely funded by the previous home-owner). However, I think the biggest issue is that I didn't fully anticipate the amount of work it would take to make this house our home and the amount of time it would require to maintain this amount of square-footage and property. As we approach the one-year anniversary of our closing date, I still feel like we are moving in and getting settled.

We got a puppy. Another Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, although different coloring from Marv. This happened over this past winter, with what seemed like enough time to formally mourn our first puppy. As he was so perfect for us, we were torn for a very long time about getting another just dog just like him but not wanting the constant reminder and comparison. We settled on another Cavalier with different coloring. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Ivan has a very different personality. He is much more brave, more energetic, and not as well behaved. He is wonderful with our daughter and watching the two grow up together has been fantastic, although having a crawling baby and a puppy at the same time has not always been easy.

Our daughter is generally doing wonderful and brings us so much joy. She is not without her own challenges though. She was diagnosed with the same congenital heart condition that my husband has, the condition that was diagnosed after one of his cousins died suddenly from cardiac arrest, and is now followed closely by a cardiologist. She takes medication three times per day and otherwise has no restrictions or limitations. She was also diagnosed with Torticollis and was in physical therapy for about 9 months until this was successfully resolved. At her 18-month check-up she was not yet walking and this was discussed at length, but has since taken her first steps and is slowly becoming more brave with leaving the furniture. Her speech was also a concern with no words at 18 months, but she has great receptive language, social skills, and has picked up sign language very easily. I try, and am mostly successful, at focusing on her forward progress and daily feats instead of wondering and researching about what this may or may not mean for her future development.

We have begun talking about a second child. More then talking, actually, we met with the RE last week and have started scheduling pre-testing and nursing visits. We have 8 embryos frozen, all 5-day blastocysts frozen in pairs of two. There is still a lot of discussion and uncertainty about the future of my fertility and our family. How big do we ultimately want our family to be? How many embryos to thaw and implant this time around? What do we do with the remaining embryos? These are all questions that we have not settled on.

This brings us back to the return of blogging: My continued infertility story.

*After completing this entire post, I realized it's not as micro as I was anticipating. However, considering it's a summary of 1.5 years, I'm satisfied with the brevity. 

** Yes, believe it or not, this series returned in 2016 for a 14th film after a hiatus since 2007. Who knew?! Personally, I think I stopped following after the second film.

Multiple Identities

For the past five-plus weeks, this career-driven feminist has transformed into a mother. A new mother, who mostly wears workout pants and "dressing up" is a pair of jeans to leave the house. I've swapped the work bag for a diaper bag and the morning meetings for cuddles and attempting to sleep when the baby sleeps. My life has completely revolved around feeding times and my goals and anxieties are now related to pumping enough milk, getting our daughter to sleep in her crib, and trying to figure out what her cries mean when she is just plain irritable.

There have been times, usually after long nights of little sleep and being unable to decipher her cries, that I have told C I'm not cut out to be a stay-at-home-mom. Then he usually gets panicky and asks me not to rush back to work and I promise I won't. I can't imagine leaving her for a full day and I still enjoy spending my days holding her and gazing into her perfectly beautiful features.

On Monday, Beula had a doctor's appointment in the building where I work half the week. After her appointment, we stopped by my department to visit with my colleagues. Everyone said that they missed me and I honestly told them I missed them as well. I said that I wish could be cloned, so that I could both return to work and also not leave my daughter.

Yesterday, I had to return to the office for a meeting and my annual performance review. My original plan was to just go in for an hour, but then there were complications that required me to be there for several hours, most of which were unscheduled. Not having enough breast milk stored yet, I decided to take Beula along. This was partially due to the practicality of her needing to eat, partially due to wanting my other set of colleagues to meet her, and largely due to making a point that I was being expected to show up at work 5 weeks into my maternity leave.

So I got dressed up in my nicer work attire, suit-coat and all, and packed up my daughter in her cutest onsie. I put my office files into the diaper bag and off we went. One of my colleagues watched her during my performance review and I brought her into the other, less formal, meetings. I spent the rest of the time walking around and visiting in my suit with a burp cloth over my shoulder and a wrapped infant in my arms. I imagine that I looked nearly as bizarre as I felt: one part accomplished professional and one part mommy. I mentioned this bizarre feeling to my supervisor, how it felt that I was sporting two conflicting identities, and then realized that this was probably a feeling I was going to have to get used to.