Operation Independence

Operation Independence
Mission: To execute all household responsibilities, with great gusto, in order to give Mommy (Word-girl) some much needed relief.
Agents: Mad-Scientist, Word-girl, Agent E, and the Littles, oh and Pinky (heading into her third trimester today!

I'm always amazed at how motivated I am by pain. The last few weeks…okay, months, have been a physical struggle for me. I wasn't fully healed from carrying the twins when surprise baby Pinky came into the picture. Round ligament pain, stretched out abdominal wall, back pain, and heartburn have kept me relativity homebound and sometimes downright  "done in"…which looks like sitting on my couch while the twins go between amusing themselves by destroying the apartment and climbing all over me to "check in". It's been a good day when everyone is alive and relatively happy.

Then I had the revelation, that with one child, I was doing everything...and it worked, but with the Littles and pregnancy, I MUST STOP.
Full stop.
So, in my whirlwind fashion of over-the-top enthusiasm for a new parenting idea, I decided to make it a family challenge of seeing how much everyone can do on their own. Brilliantly obvious, I know.

First night on this mission, I taught Agent E, now 6 years old, how to pour his own glass of milk. Don't judge me for how pathetic it is that I was still getting every single drink and snack he needed.
His reaction was priceless, "Whoa, that was totally CRAZY!" Then the next morning I started brushing his hair before school and he said, "Wait, I can brush my own hair." That's when the invisible hand slap landed on my forehead. Of course he can! What the heck have I been doing to him (for him) for 6 years?!?! So the orders started flying…pack your backpack, zip your own coat, put your clothes in the hamper…wait, better yet, here's how to do a load of laundry. Let's see, count out 10 pieces of clothing…here, this drawer for detergent…oops, too heavy. That's okay, I'll figure out a different detergent container for you.

We all know fostering independence is a healthy thing but the honest truth is, we have to let go of a lot of efficiency and perfectionism throughout the training process. The long term benefits are totally worth it…and when you can't move much, you don't have a choice. So I've become the explain, coach, demonstrate, and follow up captain of this operation. We will succeed.

Failure is not an option.

Baby arrives in T-minus 3 months.

For more inspiration check out this link.

What's So Wonderful About Christmas?

Delayed gratification.

As I put away the Christmas tree, I contemplated what makes these little green things, covered in lights, so wonderful in the first place. I mean, why do they elicit such warm, fuzzy feelings and make us feel so....so happy? I started imagining what we could do every month of the year so that we could feel as great as we do in December. And then it hit me that the specialness of Christmas, is in large part, because it only comes once a year.

Then, later as I unloaded the dishwasher, I was thinking about how grateful I am...as compared to 10 years ago, and I realized that the greatest gift from infertility and days and months and years of waiting, was deeper gratitude. I appreciate both the meaningful and menial task of being a mother so much more than I would have, had my children come right when I wanted them.

So I'm thinking now that I'm really not doing my children any great service in giving them what they want exactly in the time they want it. In fact, one of the biggest and hardest adjustments for E, when the twins arrived, was not getting the snack or drink he asked for directly after he asked for it! I didn't know that catering to him would mean a harder lesson in patience and difference later. There is something greater I can give my children, along with the gift or whatever they ask for, if I just prayerfully look for the best time...

I can give them the gift of hearts bursting with gratitude.

From Infertility to a Family of 6

Back a few years ago when I was reaching out into the blogosphere for infertility support, I hated infertility blogs that had morphed into parenting or follow-my-family-blogs.

I avoided them.

On the one hand, it was encouraging to read stories about treatments that had worked and miracles that had happened; but on the other, my heart ached for all those for whom nothing worked....including the 2 years I had already spent with failed treatment. I didn't want to see cute little twin pictures and watch their children grow. It's hard to be happy for other's blessings when you're stuck trying to accept your own circumstances.

And I judged those blogs....why did you waste time crying and striving for a family when clearly your 5 kids were right around the corner? That judgement held me back from reaching out and sharing my own struggles, afraid I would look silly if I ever did have a big family. And then, one day, I just burst...my heart just spilled out and I wrote my first blog, Breaking My Silence

And here I am today, my blog morphing into this next chapter of my life...parenting these "littles" (the small people I'm surrounded with daily) with no babysitter, nanny or grandparents in sight!

I'm going to struggle with my blog because I feel insensitive for sharing my happy family when I still have so many friends waiting for just one child. I could create a whole new blog...But I want to accept that although I will always be able to empathize with those who are told they will have trouble conceiving, those people may not be my audience anymore. Like the blogs I avoided, I will completely understand.

Now, more than ever, I want to write for my children. I want to write to encourage fellow moms. I want to write to help myself grow and stretch in this very intense season of my life.

Once upon a time, I had the thought that God might take my longing and ache for more children and overwhelm me with them...and He did...it's a beautiful thing, worth writing about.

2013 Reflections as a Parent in an Overly-Sensitive and Overly-Critical Culture

New Year's Eve has always brought out the introspective, psuedo-writer in me. Even as a young girl, I would steal away to my bedroom and get out my journal, think, write, and pray about the year ahead. Well, this last year hasn't left me with any energy to compile my thoughts but tonight I feel that same tugging.

I heard a parenting author interviewed on a talk show this morning and she said, "Please don't raise any more entitled children. Stop the pampering." This sentiment has been echoed on many parenting blogs and in plenty of articles but it confirmed another thought that has been bouncing around in my head this week...

Our culture is both overly-sensitive and overly-critical. I've formed this opinion in recent weeks from the reactions I've seen in social media outlets to everything from a picture of a physically fit mother surrounded by her brood to the recent fiasco over Duck Dynasty's patriarch's interview in GQ. It seems that everyday, we fain great offense over tweets, interviews, pictures, quotes and, then, in turn slam those sources of our offenses. Sure we come to people's defense, too, but usually at the cost of criticizing some else's response. And honestly, I've gotten so sick of all of it that I've wanted to just give up on social media altogether.

But as a parent of three boys with a little girl on the way, there is a part of me that is challenged to look at all of this and ask myself how I want to raise my own children in such a culture. I'm no longer interested in just analyzing these "situations" for my own growth, but in looking at how I want my children to react and respond to all that lies ahead of them. And there is a lot. We have access to information from every corner of the globe and there is much to sort through.

Which brings me to my new year's thoughts on parenting tonight...

That I want to raise grace-filled, life-giving, resilient children who know who they are and aren't afraid to live out their gifts and communicate in a loving way. And you know what? This goal was looking attainable with my first born who is sensitive, loving, and very flexible and secure...yes, resilient even. Although he has his share of weaknesses and I want to stretch him more in all these areas, he was a very easy child to parent these last six years. I've come to learn with the twins' differences, that so much more of our personalities are a result of nature than I ever wanted to assume. It was more fun to take credit for a toddler who never once had a tantrum or meltdown.

One of the twins started shouting his demands today. Actually, more like screeching at the top of his lungs. The rolling on the ground, stiff-fits weren't doing the trick, so he has upped his ante. I sighed and realized, once again, that parenting him will be so different than my "style" with E. Consistency and kind, firm limits take on whole new dimensions with my more assertive twins. As I tried to type out these very thoughts, one of them woke after just half an hour in bed....so I patted his back and thought, "Yes, I'm just at the beginning of learning how to instill self-control and resilience so that my children won't be easily offended or easily offend."  

I believe this year, I will make an effort to write about that very journey.

Sleep Dep....

I have so many "blogs" whirling around in my head every day but no time or energy to write. And since I can hardly form a complete sentence or thought in real time, blogging probably isn't the best idea right now.  Yesterday I called a thermos and thermostat...twice. I read somewhere that doctors operating on little sleep were more dangerous than operating under the influence...I can see why. My hopes of recapturing last year's journey this year, are slowly fading.

I'm. just. so. tired.

This week Avi and Emmett both have colds which means the breastfeeding has just double timed, double time. The only way for them to clear out their noses seems to be nursing, so I'm waking to them crying with congestion almost every hour at night and giving them little milk snacks all day!

BUT, they are just so darn cute and such good babies that even my lack of mental capacity hasn't stolen my enjoyment of them. I'm just a babbling baby along with them!

Thanksgiving 2012

My heart felt like it would burst with thanksgiving yesterday. I just can't get over how incredibly blessed we are to have THREE healthy kids! The moms of E's classmates tease me about smiling so much. How can you look like "this" and juggle all of "that." They think I'm super woman for breastfeeding twins and expect that I should look sleep deprived and frazzled all the time. What they don't know, is that even on the days I'm overwhelmed, I'm just so stinkin' grateful for everything in my life, I can't help but smile. I don't know if I would have been this happy, had it not been for all the tears. I think the three years I spent crying inside for another baby, God used to prepare me to overflow with joy in caring for TWO.

They are a lot of work...it's not X 2, it's squared...and some things are just plain impossible, but they are PRECIOUS. They are MIRACLES and I don't take a minute for granted because they are PURE JOY! They are also growing so fast. When I put away Ethan's baby clothes, I expected to fill them again soon with a sibling. When I put away the twins' clothes, I realize that barring another miracle, this is it. These little outfits will be hand-me-downs for another child in another family. BUT, my heart is okay, not because I don't want anymore children, because I'm just so overwhelmed with gratitude for the ones I've been given. Long before the twins arrived, I came to the realization, that we would always want more kids...that one would not be enough...and neither would two...or three...and it actually helped me accept the secondary infertility, knowing that my heart would always have room for more. I knew that I had to find peace with that space in my heart.

Anyway, Thanksgiving a year ago was a mixture of extreme thankfulness and much disbelief. I had my first ultrasound the week before....had seen two yolk sacs....felt the relief that the pregnancy was developing in the right place and that BOTH embryos had taken...but I still couldn't believe it. We stayed in Boston and I prepared a small little Thanksgiving meal for the three of us +two wee babes. A year before, at Thanksgiving with family in Nashville, I had burst into tears when a well-meaning relative had thanked God for Ethan and prayed for the siblings he would have someday. I couldn't hold it together and excused myself to dry my tears.

I often chided myself for being so emotional, for letting my heart hurt when I'd been given so many good things in my life. Why was desiring another child so painful?  Why couldn't I just be thankful for having a husband...a son...why weren't those two amazing gifts enough? Well, they were enough and one day when I was worshiping God I heard him whisper to my heart, "I am enough for you." It broke me---convicted me---changed me forever. That was the first turning point, recognizing that God had already given me everything I ever needed, and anything on top of that was just His grace, mercy, and goodness.

I kiss them goodnight and I'm just so thankful, so very, very thankful.

Why Write?

Sitting here with my watered down, second cup of coffee, a pile of laundry in the recliner, and a pile of toys beside me, I'm wondering how serious mommy bloggers have time to blog! Yesterday I made enchiladas and chili, and just those two events seemed to cause a chain reaction of piling laundry, toy clutter, and fussy babies. Granted I am nursing TWINS and, more and more, I'm seeing how that requires full-time devotion and a lowering of all other expectations!

Regardless, I still want to record the events of last year before they are lost in time forever. There are some priceless details of the twins' story that a fill-in-the-blank baby book just can't capture. The picture of the two embryos in the dish (I like to brag it's the world's earliest baby photo)...presented to us in a moment with a few minutes to decide if we wanted to transfer both of them or discard one. A relatively easy decision for us since we had already made the commitment to use all embryos offered to us in that cycle or future "from frozen" cycles. We didn't know there would only be two "viable" embryos...but more on all that later.

My desire in writing publicly about our IVF journey is to shed light on a topic that is greatly misunderstood, and hotly debated among some circles of faith-filled people. I don't want to persuade anyone; I don't need validation. We've accepted all the decisions we've made, right or wrong, and trust God to judge our hearts justly. I don't need anyone's approval....the smiling eyes of my sweet boys are totally enough. I just want to share how a couple can approach these grey areas of life with integrity and share how my own misconceptions led to a lot of judgmental attitudes in my heart, before I walked it out myself. Perhaps writing will encourage greater love, sensitivity, and unity on the topic. Perhaps not.

My writing won't be polished. It will be messy and full of grammatical errors. It will be a spilling of my thoughts on the topic... subject to future changes as I research the science behind it all and mature in my understanding of the spiritual and emotional consequences....and as I have more time--a precious commodity these days!  I fully admit that fertility treatment is not for everyone and everyone's infertility story is different....with it's own unique set of medical and emotional challenges to overcome. Many women have to walk away from the whole process because it is just "too much." Some friends have only experienced heartache and loss in hopes of creating a family.

Families are formed in many different ways. All I can do here is tell my own story of how a follower of Christ, filled with the Holy Spirit, approaches ethical questions, takes personal responsibility, and walks by faith through the unknown. It is scary to put such personal information "out there", but as a friend reminded me this week, I'm choosing to write for "an audience of One", hoping it will encourage many more, but knowing that it may also offend some. Here goes my heart...more later...one sweet boy just woke up!

Going Back a Year...

Emotion is so hard to capture outside a moment. I knew that when I decided not to write about the treatments in real time. I just couldn't. Once we made the decision to try one last time, to give IVF one shot, I just went silent. It was too emotional, too hard to put it all out there, too hard to even put it in "print" privately. It was all I could do to just walk it out and put my heart and hopes in God's hands.

It was a year ago today I took the home pregnancy test...or at least I think. I remember taking the test when I got back from Greatdaddy's funeral.  David was still in Oklahoma, flying back the next day. I had to get back for work on Monday. Two lines were visible immediately, not like the barely-there-had-to-imagine-line I got with Ethan. I wasn't scared with Ethan. I was immediately over-the-moon happy. I felt happy this time, too, but also strangely disbelieving and the fear was already creeping in.

In the IVF preparation class, the nurses advised us not to take a home test because you are scheduled for a more accurate blood test 2 weeks after the transfer, anyway, and they try to encourage couples to minimize the emotions...your body is high on hormones that might skew the test anyway. But there was no way in hell I was going to wait for a phone call after a blood test...I was grasping for anything that would make the process feel more normal again.

I had been doing injections and blood work and ultrasounds for weeks. Many days I had to be at the hospital by 7:00 am for a blood test and ultrasound before work at 8.  The injections were broken down into one week of suppressing drugs (one injection a day), 2 weeks of stimulating hormones (two injections a day), and one shot for the LH surge that would get the eggs ready to release--a hormonal and emotional roller coaster ride to say the least. The tears well in my eyes even to recall these small details. In fact, I've read many an infertility blog and I never could understand how women put every detail...day 1:_____, day 2____...this many eggs retrieved, this many mature, this many fertilized, and transferred...my heart was too fragile for a play-by-play.  Still is.

I remember laughing one morning at the memory of being scared of needles as a child, "Wow, look at me now, giving myself a shot in my stomach!" I'll never forget the day of the egg retrieval...the horrible pain I was in for the next 24 hours, on heavy pain killers just to try to take the edge off enough to sleep through the recovery. It's not painful for everyone. You're put under for the actual procedure, but I had bleeding into the lining of my abdomen and I was in quite a bit of pain from the moment I woke. I remember joking with David in that super sterile environment, with nurses coming and going, that some people (actually, most people) get pregnant having SEX.
What a novel idea.

But even as I joked about the craziness of baby making in an IVF department, it still hurt. It hurt to be reminded that while others were upset when they accidentally got pregnant, we had come to THIS place...this far to try to make our dreams come true and pursue the creation of family we believed God wanted us to have. The whole process felt like the antithesis of intimacy. So many people and drugs involved in a miracle that is still ultimately in God's hands. We did love each other through it, loved and supported each other in ways that don't happen in the privacy of a bedroom. And you know, it was intimacy... intimacy of the heart and not the body.

...and though it may sound like we had faith, hope, and love, neither one of us thought it would work, but we believed we were supposed to do it anyway.

Dear Girl Without Voting Rights...With No Rights-This is for you precious angel.

I sat on the couch tonight with one of my twins in my lap, flipping through the channels, trying to avoid the last of the political ads before election day tomorrow. Elizabeth Warren promises to fight for equal pay for women and Senator Brown assures us he is on the side of women for their rights to choose. I'm so sick and tired of all the ads. I stumble through more channels and land on BBC World....and now I'm ruined. The story is short but so gruesome; I can't get it out of my head.

They interview the murderers. I've never witnessed humans so callus. There is no sign of remorse, no emotion on their faces. The father, in cuffs and chains, does weep when his younger children come running to him with tears streaming down their faces. What is going through his mind as he comforts the siblings of the daughter he has just killed? A 16 year old daughter killed at the hands of her cruel father and heartless mother...in the name of honor. Yes, by now, I know that we've all heard about these "honor killings," but tonight I'm beyond disturbed. 

I'm disturbed that this is our world and while I can exercise my rights as a free, educated woman tomorrow and go to the polls and vote, my vote won't stop these crimes from happening. In my country we aren't trying to insure women have access to education, we just want them to have access to contraceptives. And the right to vote? Well, women gained that years ago. We're on to bigger and better things. We aren't concerned about women being killed by their families, we're just trying to maintain a woman's right to kill her own babies. Am I insensitive, naive, not explaining the whole story? Oh, I'm just getting started. While untold numbers of women are beaten and killed around the world every day, we sit. 

              

          And we dance around the topic. 

We ignore their suffering, their entrapment in a culture where the men dictate it all and there is no escape for the women. 

And I just want to scream. I want to scream and cry at the total injustice, at the utter lack of respect for women...no, "respect" doesn't even encapsulate it...

I can't fathom loathing life so much that you would commit something so cruel. The mother's words chill me to the core and wring in my ears over and over as I wash my organic, carefully-balanced snack for my son's preschool class tomorrow. 

You know what she said? 

The murderous mother said, "It was her destiny to die this way"...with no tremor in her voice...no tears in her eyes. 

I take a break from washing the fruit and I nurse one of my twins back to sleep, his soft warm skin, the innocence of a babe...he pulls off my breast and smiles up at me. 

                                                            And I'm crushed. 

Utterly crushed at the thought of this other mother, around the world from me, pouring acid on the head of her firstborn. Her firstborn, the one she should have shared a magical bond with, a love so deep that nothing could ever come between it...and she burned that precious skin. 

What was the girl's "crime"? She didn't run away with a boy and get pregnant out of wedlock. She didn't do drugs and no filthy language spewed from her mouth. No, her parents were too scared of these greater sins and thought best to preempt something so rebellious. So they killed her when she merely glanced at a young man as he approached their house. A glance...a look over her shoulder but in clear view of parents just waiting for her to "slip."

Her father began beating her, her mother ran to get the acid. Why in the world do these people keep acid on hand? For such a time as this.
She pleaded with her parents that it was an accident and as her father beat her, she promised that she would never do it again. The mother insured her promise by pouring the acid over her head.

There are things that compel me to write, things that haunt me until I purge my being from the thoughts and questions that won't stop.

I haven't blogged in a year...scared to offend. Scared to be vulnerable. But this girl rattles me...how can I ignore the horrible agony in which she died? I won't. Not this time. I will repeat her story and I'll feel sick all over again. She deserves our attention, not our indifference.

And she deserves it from conservatives and liberals, democrats, republicans, independents and whoever else has a voice....she deserved it all. Oh, God, help me do her some sort of justice by repeating her story. And God you know I can only hope now that the life she stepped into is a paradise so wonderful that it erases the 16 years of torture she stepped out of.

I'm not scared of offending; I'm already offended.
I'm so offended that these killings go on. This family weren't radical terrorists, living in a training camp, plotting evil schemes. They were hidden away in a small village. In fact, that's what they did to their daughter, they hid her away and refused to seek medical help for her...they let her slowly burn for hours before she died. I can't stand this.

I can't stomach it.

Yes, her parents and OUR indifference, just offended me out of my silence.



* Editor's "reflections"*
I wrote my initial post in a wave of intense emotion after hearing about this young girl's death in light of my own freedoms as a woman about to vote in the U.S. As a VERY busy mom of twins, I also wrote quickly and with little editing.  My desire, in this post, is to raise awareness of women's rights globally while being thankful and responsible with our rights as American women.  My heart breaks all over again for this girl....trapped in that family and in that culture...in all that. I mean no offense to those loving souls in any culture; I do intend to offend our hearts into action when human rights are violated in any "setting."

It Will Be Worth It All

Been thinking a lot lately about how much a woman will go through for the love of a child. I have friends who stayed sick during the entire 9 months of pregnancy and friends who were on bed rest for 9 months. Just when I want to feel sorry for myself about all the injections, ultrasounds, and blood work...just when I want to feel completely overwhelmed, I remember what this is all about. Even if I didn't want this for myself or for David; I want to give the gift of a sibling to Ethan. And for Ethan, and for the child that we will love so much someday, I'll do anything and persevere through anything. By the grace of God, I will walk through this challenging season with courage and with hope and I'll keep my heart set on what really matters. There are things in life worth making great sacrifices for and I can think of nothing greater than a child. So on my hard days, this little blog is going to be my cheerleader....reminding me that I can do this because someday, it will all be worth it. Even if we never have another child, I will know that I tried my best to bring life into this world and love the lives that are already here.

...

And time keeps moving...
I feel so overwhelmed and exhausted with working full-time and trying to keep everything running in my home. I'm on the path to getting everything organized so that I can better manage my time at home--a place for everything and everything in its place makes a world of difference when you don't have time to straighten up!

They say doing infertility treatment is a full-time job and I can see why some women have to quit their jobs to make it work.  I guess this fall will be a crazy juggling act for me. I've still decided not to talk about everything in "real" time. People have sent me private messages and asked how everything is going and I do welcome that. I just don't feel like making the whole process public. I do appreciate everyone's well wishes and prayers. It's been a long road and we still have a long road ahead of us.

At least I feel more resigned to our current situation. I can't say that I love it, but I'm at peace with my life. I know that God has only the best in mind for our family and I'm working to trust Him for our future. No matter what the circumstances, we all our faced with our trials of faith. I told David tonight that I wish I could make myself feel how I'm supposed to feel. I wish that when I needed to be content, I could just snap a finger and FEEL it and when I needed to be hopeful, I would be FILLED with hope. I do know I can pray and ask God to give me the emotional responses I need. It is also a choice and not always something I will be able to feel. So, I'm choosing to hope but I'm not feeling it right now. I'm choosing to have faith that whatever happens, it will be okay...definitely not feeling that one. And I'm trying to believe that all the details will work out even though I can't see how! I'm being stretched and I've never enjoyed stretching. I have learned that I'm better equipped for the hard stuff in life when God has done some pruning of my heart and soul.

I feel very sensitive these days....feel incredibly angry at those who dispose of babies. I read an article last week about a mother who suffocated her twin boys immediately after delivering them at home. All I could do was weep....but I wasn't just sad; I was so angry at the brokenness in this world. Some people have thanked me for so delicately handling this topic of infertility. These days, I don't feel very gracious. I walk by Planned Parenthood volunteers and just want to puke on their shoes...the thoughts that run through my head are not very nice. I don't want to be bitter but I simply have zero tolerance for killing babies....zero tolerance for parents abandoning parenting. I hope with more time, I will find a more compassionate way to deal with these issues. All my heart feels right now is the sadness of wanting another child and the disbelief that others could throw away such a miracle. Meanwhile, Ethan keeps asking for a baby...the other night he asked if we could go buy baby toys for a baby brother. :)

Returning to My Blog

When you haven't blogged in so long that you can't remember your log in information, that's not a good sign! Honestly, I have had a very challenging summer and haven't felt like writing about it. I wish I could journal through all the ups and downs but it's hard for me to write when I'm struggling.

Overall, I'm still much more at peace and settled than I've been in years. I'm very thankful for the child I have and for my dear husband and our life in Boston. After months of grueling job searching, I finally got hired in the Brookline Public School district. My job is working as a 1:1 Special Education Aide and due to very strict confidentiality laws, I will not be blogging much about my work. I'm very thankful for the job as we're finally finding ways to live on a very tight budget but make it here.

We enrolled Ethan in a Jewish preschool and he's very excited about his first day on Monday. Friday he went with David for a short session and he was asked to make the first song request....of course it would be his favorite bedtime song, "Jesus Loves Me." At least all the parents laughed and the teacher handled it brilliantly by affirming Ethan and saying, "I don't know that song but you can sing it to me later!" Ethan was satisfied with the answer and went on to request a different one. We're thankful for the opportunity to expose him more broadly to Jewish culture and traditions and even some Hebrew. And since we share the same values as our friends at this Temple, we're very thankful to be able to send him there.

Getting hired means I have to go back to the drawing board on choosing insurance companies and make a decision by this Monday. I will hopefully be going forward with treatment (IVF) this fall but I also don't feel like blogging about those details. I think I'll try to journal my experience privately to share more publicly later. I just know it's going to be very emotionally and physically draining for me and I don't need an audience anticipating pregnancy with me. I've even chosen not to share with our families. It's hard. Infertility takes some of the joy out of the anticipation of trying and the surprises that follow.

My biggest fear at this point, is coming this far and waiting this long, and then even IVF not working for us. All in all, I trust God's plan and purposes for our family. I feel loved and I feel blessed even though I haven't gotten everything I wanted in this life. I've been given far more than most people in this world, so I really can't complain. I'm just learning to accept that my heart will always ache for more children and  I will probably always have keen radar for pregnant bellies and newborns. It's hard to believe that Ethan is approaching 4 years old and we still have no idea when, if ever, he will have a sibling. This is all I can write without a stream of tears tonight.

That Is a Friend Indeed

"The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of confusion or despair, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing…not healing…not curing…that is a friend indeed.”
-Henri Nouwen

A while back I ran across another blogger and thought her tips for increasing our sensitivities to infertile friends was very helpful. Check out her full blog here.

"Tips for infertility or going through treatments:

• Ask your friend how they are doing.  They may or may not want to talk about it, but either way, they will appreciate you asking and thinking of them.  Many times people going through infertility feel forgotten.
• When you ask your friend how they are doing, don’t pry.  Nothing is worse than feeling like someone just wants “gossip” instead of truly supporting you.
• When your friend opens up to you, you just have to listen.  They don’t want an answer or a solution from you. Don’t give unsolicited advice.  They just want to get their feelings out or update you on what’s going on.
• Please do not share empty platitudes with your friend.  “Everything will be ok.”  “Third times the charm.”  “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”  “It was God’s plan.”
• If you don’t know what to say, just listen.  If you want to say something, then something along the lines of “I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through.” or “Life is just unfair and I’m sorry this is happening to you.”  usually work best."

All the insensitive comments I've gotten over the years, have been far out-weighed by all the encouragement from wonderful, supporting friends who have walked with me through my darkest moments. Contrary to what most people might think, I've noticed that some of the sweetest words have come from women who have no trouble getting pregnant and are my age with 4 kids! I guess it's proof that no matter what your struggle is, the ability to be a good friend is more about being able to empathize than in having the exact same experience.

I have to give a shout out to my fertile Bestie here...you know who you are! She has LISTENED a million times, or more accurately, every month when my period comes-unwanted. She has hugged me and comforted me and tried her best to understand me. I don't know how I would have survived this struggle without her and she's not a fellow support group member or someone who has gone through what I'm going through. She's just a REALLY good friend. We had our boys a month apart and I remember exactly where I was standing in a cabin in Torch Lake, MI when she called to tell me she was pregnant with her second. At that point, even though I had already been trying for almost a year, I was very hopeful that I would get pregnant soon after her wonderful news. Nine months later, I held her hand (or more like her leg-hahahaha) while her beautiful daughter came into the world. And over a year later, I'm still watching her children grow via Facebook and the webcam. (tears in my eyes as I type this and think about them)

From an outsiders view, and from what I read in my infertility coping skills books...it's an unlikely source of emotional support, BUT it's been my rock and one of the biggest reasons I've held onto hope. She comes from a Jewish heritage where children are so significant and she understands my desires because she shares them too. She and I both want to bring life and light into the world and nurture it until it shines brightly. She and I freak out together about fertility treatments and then she very calmly helps me logically and rationally talk through my options and plans again, and again, and again. (A husband can grow very weary of these conversations so it's good to have a girlfriend back up!)  She reminds me of how God has been faithful and how He has provided and opened doors for me in ways I tend to overlook or dismiss. I'm sure she's sick and tired of hearing me moan and groan but she never lets on that she is. I have a feeling she will cry tears of joy when that wonderful day arrives for me...because she's ached with me all along the way.

Getting My Feelings On My Sleeve

Been doing a lot of thinking lately and been bad about blogging. My blog is supposed to be therapeutic for me, as journaling is widely recommended for women dealing with infertility. Problem is, I journal in my head! When I do gush out my feelings, I'm terrified at how they will be taken...my last blog for example. I almost didn't post it when warned that I would get a lot of hateful comments if I wrote about something as controversial as abortion. But I stuck with my gut. If this blog is for me, and this blog is about my feelings and journey with infertility, then I'm going to write about how I feel with someone petitions me for abortion funding. Period.

Here are a few randoms things from my week. I'm starting to realize that I don't exactly fall into the category of secondary infertility which usually means that the first pregnancy was conceived without treatment and "easily." Since I would have been diagnosed with primary infertility after a year of trying to conceive, but I never saw a doctor, and it took me almost two years to get pregnant...in one sense, I've always had a fertility issue. Most women in secondary infertility support groups, went off the pill and got pregnant right away. It wasn't until they tried to conceive a second child, that they ran into issues. I was never on the pill and hopeful for pregnancy every month for a long time.

But I've learned from the books I'm reading, that women who haven't yet had a child, have zero tolerance for women with secondary infertility in their support groups because they would "give their right arm to have one healthy child." Now, this really hasn't been my experience. Some of the most encouraging words have come from friends of mine who are still longing for their first child and they have found a way to sympathize with me and relate to my desire. I'm just glad that I'm joining a large community of infertility bloggers and I don't have to be a voice for any one's particular situation. I can just share my struggles and some women will relate, while others may think I'm nutso and ungrateful.  I'm okay with that. I'm okay with a lot things these days. After you live enough years, not getting what you want, you have one of two choices...be okay with it or not be! I'm choosing to live my life to the fullest right now, no matter what my circumstances...or the opinions of others. And thank God I live in a society where there is still freedom of expression!

I went to a 3 year old's birthday party yesterday and I was amused at one of the dads sharing with my husband and me how much harder it is to have more than one child, but how worthwhile it is. It was like he was trying to encourage us to go for it and not be afraid!  It's funny that in a city like Boston, most people assume we have one child by choice.  AND, most people assume we have plenty of time since I'm only 30 and they didn't decide to start their families till their late 30s, early 40s. If there is one "take home" lesson from this journey, it's never make assumptions...especially about people's family planning! I have been very guilty of this in the past, so I'm not speaking any sort of judgment here.

And speaking of judgements, I may have sounded harsh in the past about the "stupid" things people say to infertile women...BUT I sorta had a mini revelation on this matter just this summer. We were sitting in Israel around a table of food with dearly loved friends when their young daughter looked at me so sweetly and inquisitively and said, "When are you going to have another baby?" I know her mom probably wanted to sink under the table. I, however, needed that question. I needed to see that we all start out innocent in our curiosities and it's only with life experiences and the ensuing maturity, that we learn how to be sensitive with our queries.  Some of us grow up and lack awareness in certain areas, and it's left to the rest of society to gently educate us in our ignorance. At least, wouldn't it be nice if it was a gentle, gracious education? Seeing through the eyes of a child, who meant no discomfort to me, somehow helped me gain a greater perspective on grace. I decided to change my own tone when grown-ups say things that may rub me the wrong way and find a way to gently educate them with a response similar to the one I gave this precious little girl, "We would LOVE more children. Wouldn't that be wonderful?! We are ready when God decides to give us another one!"

The Small Things in Life

I've had a few sleepless nights after Planned Parenthood petitioned outside my building. I've thought before about blogging my feelings on abortion since being faced with infertility but had decided to remain politically neutral on my blog. Then this week happened and I just can't contain myself! The guy asking for funds told me that only 3% goes toward abortions. I said, "3% goes toward killing babies?" "Yes", he replied, "We do, do that." I was dumbfounded. He was unapologetic, cold and proud. I started shaking and had to walk away. 

Appreciating and protecting the smallest, weakest, most fragile things in life is a human quality, politics and religion aside. I know of liberal feminists who are pro-life. They recognize abortion as demeaning to women and see every tiny human being as worthy of human rights, whether it be an injured animal or person, the elderly or sick, or babies born or still growing in the womb. These are the "small" things in life, yes, the dependent beings. I care about them. My heart breaks for them and I cannot sleep at night when I hear about someone's callous responses to them. When my 3 1/2 year old overhead the phrase, "killing babies," his response was, "But, Mommy, babies are FRAGILE". That's right; my CHILD understands when the adults around him seem confused.

In our family, we protect the things that are fragile because we value life itself. Ethan and I take care of a 10 year old with special needs. She cannot talk and makes lots of funny noises but Ethan loves her and plays alongside her as best he can. Last week he asked me if she was his sister. :) We don't squish bugs or frogs or anything living just for the fun of it and we would never dream of helping a mother discard the little miracle forming inside her womb.

Infertility takes away a lot of choices, so when I know a woman could choose to bring life into the world, I'm heartbroken when she ends it instead. I see every conception as miraculous because I've seen how impossible it can be. People have said to me, "Doesn't it just kill you when you hear about all these teenagers getting pregnant and you can't have the child you want in your stable marriage and family." You know what? It doesn't bother me. What bothers me are the women, teenager or adult, who get rid of their pregnancies instead of selflessly looking for the best way to nurture the life within them. This could mean transforming into a mother before they were ready or it could mean giving the greatest gift to another waiting mother.

This week on ABC I read an interview with Jaycee Dugard, the girl kidnapped, held captive and repeatedly raped by her abductor for 18 years.
"Perhaps the greatest reminders of real love and goodness was the birth of her daughters in 1994 and 1997. She writes that having her first daughter meant that 'I wasn't alone any more. [I] had somebody that was mine... And I knew I could never let anything happen to her.'"  I also read that when she first saw her baby she was enthralled by her beauty. She took the most horrific situation and still valued and protected the life that came out of that trauma.

So, am I insensitive to the situations that some women find themselves in by speaking out against abortion? No. I am moved by a deep compassion and desiring only that all human beings, great and small, value the life around and within them. And for all the infertile and fertile women facing choices they never wanted, may they find all the love and support they need to be as courageous, loving and selfless as possible.

I Would Die for That

Summer Reading

I ordered a couple books and the first one arrived today. It's kinda funny that I was really excited to get a book about infertility in the mail! I've decided that the better informed I am about my situation, the more confident I will feel going forward with treatment. Well, let's just say that my child was under-supervised today as I could hardly put the book down. It's called, Conquering Infertility: Dr. Alice Domar's Mind/Body Guide to Enhancing Fertility and Coping with Infertility.

I have to admit that the title turned me off a bit but it was highly recommended on Resolve's website. I basically just chose the books that are up for awards this year as there are so many written on the topic, I didn't know where to begin! I was blogging in my head all afternoon but I'm kinda blank at the moment. As I digest these books I'm sure I'll have plenty to share!

One thing that really struck a cord with me was her research that the peak of infertility related depression often happens around 2 to 3 years of trying to conceive. This was certainly the case with me, both when I was trying to conceive Ethan (going into the second year being the most difficult) and definitely in the 3 years we've been trying for a second child. I feel like I am now over that peak and FINALLY at a place of real peace and contentment about not having anymore children. But I'm not so far removed from the days where I couldn't think about anything else, that I can't go back and capture some of that journey. One of the recommended therapies is journaling and that is how I'm going to look at this blog from here on out....my purging of all things great and small on my road to acceptance and hope.

I've truly savored each day with Ethan and the ache has lifted...but even in the last 6 months of relaxing and not striving to get pregnant, still nothing. Many, many people have told me that it would happen when we got settled, when I stopped trying, when we moved to Boston, when we moved back to Israel, when we traveled to Israel, when I was less stressed, etc. etc. And while I do appreciate their attempts to encourage, the reality is that none of us knows when we'll have more children. And that's okay. There is no need to make predictions. Just stay with me on my journey.

Another point the author made was how much more successful women were at getting pregnant when they had great support systems, whether it be from family, an infertility support group, or close friends. I thought about how I wished I had reached out sooner. That now I have so many people praying for us and sending their love....I needed that desperately a year ago and two years ago...but then again, not very many people can understand why you would want another child so soon after your first! And I will note here that there were friends who have supported me all along my "journey of desire"...but that's a whole other blog!

Tonight at the park I overheard Ethan talking with another little boy while they both "inspected" a doll lying on a bench. Ethan said, "Do you have a little baby?" and then he said, "I'm going to have a boy and a girl baby!" hahahahha Thank you Caillou (PBS children's program) for planting ideas in his head!

Summer Writer's Block

Breaking my silence was one hurdle, but continuing to speak is a much bigger one for me! I find that as I struggle through decisions and processing all the emotions, I would much rather be silent. I have always thought of myself as someone who "thinks out-loud" but on this topic, it seems much, much more difficult. Part of it is the judgements I feel from others and part of it is my own confusion over everything.  What I feel strongly about one day, changes the next and what I'm absolutely sure about one month, I waver on the next. Thank you hormones!

We did a lot of travel this summer and before it all started, I had a good doctor's report. I had all my testing repeated and the "numbers" looked much better this time around, indicating that I am NOT in early ovarian failure, or as the doctor put it, "surprisingly, it appears that you are not in early ovarian failure." I asked her to repeat that again and smiled to myself at the months of prayers...begging God to extend my fertile years!  Hearing that news was relieving and allowed us to move on with our busy summer, not feeling anxious to start treatment.

But here I am, staring at the end of summer, knowing it's been 3 years of "trying", and needing to make big decisions about insurance policies, career direction, and preschools for E. As I'm weighing all my options, Ethan is asking almost weekly if we can get a baby boy AND a girl! At first we redirected all his inquiries but now we've started telling him that he can pray and ask God for a baby and that we would love one too! It's one thing to deal with your own desire for children, but another thing to cope with your child's desire too. I don't want to dismiss his hopes so now we're learning to hope together as a family, submitting all our desires to the One, and Only, who made us all!

Park Hopping

Ethan and I spent the whole weekend hopping from one park to another, enjoying the warm weather--finally! The park is a fun place for both of us. He gets to play with other kids and I get to meet other Moms. It's also a sad place for me. I'm usually surrounded by pregnant bellies and Ethan's friends have younger siblings playing nearby. He is getting to the age where his friends have a younger sibling and sometimes one more on the way. Sometimes we come home and he tells me that he wants a brother and sister...he usually asks for both!

In Boston, I also meet other families with one child, but mostly by choice. But today I met a Mom with one child who eventually told me he was adopted. She had also undergone extensive fertility treatment and finally decided that wasn't the way they wanted to build their family. I felt very grateful. She asked me how I had Ethan and I smiled and said, "He is my little miracle." I often think about this....think about how blessed I am to have one natural born child and how blessed I am to be a mother. God knows I would have poured all that nurturing love into multiple pets had He not given us a child. :)

Tonight I looked through pictures that my friend took when Ethan was about 2 weeks old. The pictures make me so happy....they also give me a lump in my throat and a tight feeling in my chest as I wonder if and when I'll get to enjoy that newborn stage again. Tomorrow I'll have a lot more testing done...I'm dreading it but I'm ready to cross this bridge. Unknowns and unmet expectations are very difficult, but learning to savor what we do have is a beautiful way to walk through life. I'm certainly trying.

No Longer Scared of Needles

This morning I had my blood taken--6 vials--to re-test my hormones levels. I'm praying that these results paint a different picture than the blood work I had done in Israel. Not that the blood test I had done there weren't accurate, I'm just hoping that a miracle has happened and I'm NOT in early ovarian failure!

As I walked to the lab this morning, I thought about how many blood test I've done between my difficult pregnancy and secondary infertility. I almost laughed out loud when I thought about how scared I used to be of needles and shots. The idea of getting blood drawn would have sent me into a mental panic 15 years ago. Not today. Today, without flinching, I chatted with the nurse about her 18 month old daughter and the expense of childcare in Boston, while she drew my blood. Women will endure lots of poking and prodding and testing and pregnancy and difficult deliveries, just to have a sweet baby. That's how God made us...incredibly resilient and strong for the task at hand!

So on top of getting ready for my 10 day trip to Israel, I have to have several test done this week. You don't get to choose the timing of infertility testing. It all depends on your cycle and in my experience, just like a period, it comes at the most inconvenient times! BUT, I'm actually really thankful that I'm able to do the testing this month, because I missed the window of opportunity last month with all my traveling. We're hoping to have all the diagnostic testing behind us before our insurance changes in August. Thanks in advance for your prayers that all will go well and I'll get a more hopeful report this week!

Nothing Like a Tornado to Put Things in Perspective

I was just reading some news stories from Joplin about the devastation from the latest tornado. I can't believe what these poor families are going through. One story was about a husband shielding his wife from debris...he didn't survive a puncture wound through his back. They were high school sweet hearts. So many horrible, heart breaking tragedies from this storm. I'm grieved for everyone trying to recover from these storms and I'm grieved at how quickly I can look dismally at my situation when I have such a beautiful, incredible life.

This morning I took Ethan for a lovely little stroll through the Fens (a park and waterway in our neighborhood). I decided it was a good morning to just savor a bit of life. We watched several families of geese eating on the lawns. The little goslings were fluffy yellow and so cute. One pair of geese had 15 goslings!! Talk about a big family! It made me think about how infertility has increased my appreciation for life and for large families. I just so value children and deeply appreciate the families that are willing to embrace those miracles even when it's counter cultural. I also saw a couple pregnant women walking to school or work and thought about how amazing it is that women were created to literally carry and give life! It's crazy....crazy amazing.

Back to being thankful today.