Some Inspiration (and Thank you!)

Thanks so much for your very sweet comments on my last post. I think my numbness is partially due to the impending holidays, as a way to protect myself from another Christmas without a baby or a (viable) pregnancy. Last year at this time I was sad to not be pregnant, but still very hopeful that it would happen in 2009. Now, as most of us know and are experiencing, the probability of it happening this year is very slim.

Alas, I've had a glimmer of comfort lately in an unexpected source. I sing with a large community choir, and have recently been preparing for our Christmas performances. This year we are singing a beautiful set of music with various other groups, including the local Philharmonic. Of course, there are the Christmas favorites like O Christmas tree, Winter Wonderland, Sleigh Ride, etc. But we also do pieces that are not in the general "holiday favorite" category, to mix it up.

This year one of those pieces is "Closing of the Year." When I first sang through it, I wasn't too fond of the cheesiness of the melody and orchestration. Every time we rehearsed this particular piece, I rolled my eyes and just half-heartedly endured it. But last night, we got to sing it with all the other performers involved. This includes soloists, children's choir, percussion ensemble, orchestra, and us (the choir!). Last night was the first time I actually LISTENED to the lyrics.

I was moved. I started tearing up in the middle of this huge concert hall, in the middle of the piece, in the middle of rehearsal, in the middle of hundreds of performers! And I totally didn't care if anyone noticed my emotion. It felt so good to FEEL the sadness, and also the hope and joy that Christmas brings.

Here are the lyrics:

If I cannot bring you comfort,
then at least I bring you hope.

For nothing is more precious
than the time we haven't sold.

We all must learn from our misfortunes,
count the blessings that are real.
Let the bells ring out for Christmas
at the closing of the year.

They are not fancy. They are simply put, and straight to the heart. As I drove home last night, I reflected on the blessings in my life that are real, that are here, and that I shouldn't ignore anymore. I have such a beautiful life; a husband who loves and supports me, a great family, amazing friends, a job I love, and the ability to appreciate all of it. True, this infertility is my misfortune. This is a road block that has been difficult to maneuver around, but the message is: How can I learn from it? Can I be stronger when faced with failure? Can I be less selfish and more understanding of others' struggles? Can I have a hopeful, positive spirit despite the pain and sadness (and sometimes anger)?

Yes.

Thank you, Christmas season. I needed you!

Numbness with a little bit of life thrown in.

BFN after BFN (after bfn after bfn after bfn!) usually makes me really sad. By sad, I mean throwing myself on the bed in a ball of tears. Lately, though, I've noticed that I haven't been reacting the same way to my failures. There is an underlying sadness in everything I do, but in many ways I have become numb to the pain that is there everytime AF shows and I fail to become a mother. It's been almost 19 months. I can't help but ask if it will ever happen for us. There is no way we will be able to afford this if it goes on much longer. We are so tapped out.

This past month I was extremely busy preparing for Thanksgiving, so between that, working, and choir rehearsals, I didn't have much time to dwell on my infertility. It was nice. But it was also another of many failures on the TTC front. This new detachment is surprising to me. Me. Not a mother. Not pregnant. Not hopeful.

Everyone is telling me to be positive, and deep inside I know I should be. But I don't know how to do that right now.

Really? And a little bit of gratitude.

We moved to our New City in June 2008. We had just started TTC, and the first thing we did upon buying the house was to adopt Charlie, our handsome Black Lab. I was not at the point of concern in our baby journey at that point...just blissfully unaware. One day in July I took the rambunctious little bugger for a walk to the park(has anyone attempted to walk a 3-month old Labrador? Impossible...but that's a whole other story). I sat down on a bench where a woman was nursing her teeny little baby girl. I smiled at her and struck up a conversation..she told that she and her husband had also recently moved to New City, and that their baby was 2 months old. We chatted a few minutes more, and I scooted along with "Trouble" tagging me along. I remember wondering of someday I would run into her again with my own child. At that time, I thought I was very close to becoming pregnant!

Throughout the year and 4 months since then, I've thought of her a few times..wondering if they still lived here and how old their baby was. I look for her when I walk my now well-behaved, mature canine.

Today I was standing in line at the post office, and I looked up to see that she was being waited on at the counter. Once I realized it was her, I looked around for baby girl...but didn't see here anywhere. I couldn't help but overhear her conversation with the guy helping her. He was asking about her daughter. I heard her saying that the little girl is 18 months now (quick mental math told me that yes, that is the exact amount of time we have been trying)...and then she said, "And I only have 5 more weeks with this one!" At which point she turned, and sure enough her big, beautiful pregnant belly came into focus.

I was so taken aback! It seemed so recently that I met her with her teeny, tiny baby...and here she is about to give birth again! When I met her that day I was so excited at the thought that I would have a baby soon!

The thing is...I don't know her story. For all I know, these two children were IVF babies...I just couldn't help but say, "Really?"

And since I've been such a complainer lately, I feel some gratitude comin' on..
Today, I am grateful for:

1. Being prepared for my big Thanksgiving Feast that is in just over two weeks!! That's right, folks...I have never made a turkey, and this year I'll be cooking for 14 adults and 4 children. Needless to say, I started planning a few months ago (that's the teacher in me), so that the few days prior to the BIG DAY wouldn't be spent in stressful chaos.
2. Cold weather - I LOVE snuggling up in front of the fire!
3. My hard-working, loving, reassuring, practical hubby. He is my best friend and I couldn't ask for a better life partner.
4. My MIL and her fabulous Monday night meal, and her amazing photographic skills!
5. Organization and creativity.
6. Snuggles with my furbabies...even when they act like I am smothering them, I know they secretly love the doting attentiveness. I can't help it! M told me recently (as I was tucking Charlie in for bed) that it's time for a BABY, or else the dog is going to get a crib and a stroller!

Halloween

I love Halloween. I think my earliest memories of this holiday are accompanied with feelings of warmth, happiness, and joy. As a child, the sheer excitement of dressing up and receiving FREE candy was enough to do it for me. As I grew, I realized all of the other details that made it special: my mom baked cookies or some other special treat and make hot chocolate for when we returned; pumpkins seeds were always roasting in the oven; and there was always a feeling of togetherness between family and friends.

When I was in college, I remember the first Halloween in which I roasted the pumpkin seeds, baked the cookies, and got to open the door for the kids in costume. It was a neat feeling to be carrying on the tradition.

M and I now live in a neighborhood that gets a good amount of trick-or-treaters. This is our second Halloween in our house, and I have carried on my favorite traditions from childhood here as well. Last year I passed out the candy to the kids. I was sad at that time that we hadn't been successful, bit I still had a hopeful anticipation that this year we'd be taking our precious little one around the neighborhood. Or at least we'd be celebrating with our baby.

I was not sad this year. I put up the decorations, we carved the pumpkins, I baked the cookies, roasted the seeds, and made the hot chocolate. I answered the door, saw a lot of really cute kids (and some not-so-cute teenagers)......and then the babies came.

In a span of a half-hour we had approximately 5 different families with adorable babies. I was fine with the first one..did the appropriate ooh-ing and cooing at the little boy dressed as a lion. I even remarked to M on how cute he was. The second time I was not so lucky. It was a little baby girl dressed as a bumble bee. I gave her mom the candy, and as I shut the door I broke down. Sobbing. M came to the rescue and answered the rest of the torturous doorbell rings. I think we were both surprised at this emotion. I've been doing so well.

I am cautious of any hope for next year. I'm afraid to let any happy anticipation in...it seems to make the disappointment much more bitter. I hate that I am so jaded. I LOVE children with a passion (Hello? I'm a teacher? And I'm getting a little tired of loving everyone else's kids?)...and I never thought in a million years there would be this sadness on a most-loved holiday.

Favorites

I am jumping on the the bandwagon! Looks like fun, and as they say...a picture's worth a thousand words!

1. My Favorite Beverage:

2. My Hometown(s):











3. My Favorite TV Show:









4. My Occupation:












5. My First Car:












6. My Favorite Dish:










7. Celebrity I've Been Told I Resemble:













8. My Celebrity Crush:













9. My Favorite Childhood Toys (it's a tie):




10. My Random Image:

Slacker

Hello friends! My apologies about being a SLACKER blogger lately. I've been enjoying catching up on my reading though, and have a few updates of my own.

It's been a really nice break from TTC. M and I have been doing a lot lately; family visits, baby showers, retirement parties, work, and enjoying the new Fall weather has really helped to keep our minds off of being childless (and infertile!).

In the past two weeks our family has had some devastating news. One of my grandmothers was diagnosed with terminal cancer of five different organs. She is managing her pain and nausea at home with hospice nurses, but knows that the end is imminent. It is so heartbreaking to know that there's nothing we can do except tell her how much we love her and to make her as comfortable as possible. It's so unfair that a woman who took such good care of herself her entire life (she's in her eighties now) and whose mind is sharp as a tack is left with this in her final days. But I guess we all know about the unfairness of life.

In addition to this sadness, another grandmother passed on a week and a half ago. She was ill for a long time, and thankfully I had many opportunities to say my goodbyes and give her love and kisses. It is still so sad though. No matter how prepared you might think you are to let someone go, there is nothing like the finality of death - knowing you will never see that person in this lifetime again - to make you weep. I am currently working on putting together a photo slideshow of her life for the memorial on Oct. 17th. What has been especially bittersweet for me while working on this project is reflecting back on how many memories I have with this very special woman. I had (almost exactly) 30 awesome years with her, and I desperately want my children to know their grandparents the same way. Every month that passes without a pregnancy reminds me of the time we are losing. This is the hardest part of IF in my opinion.

In better news, I am turning 30. TOMORROW. Yikes! Unfortunately, a cold virus has invaded my sinuses and lungs, so right now my celebration is limited to some valuable time with my neti pot and some hot tea. The ILs are cooking up a dinner for me tonight, and I suspect M might have something up his sleeve for tomorrow, but other than that it is a LOW KEY b-day. So glad for that!

Couldn't Resist

I have read this on a few of the IF blogs I follow, and I couldn't resist sharing it with my IRL friends, and fellow IF bloggers. I absolutely love this.

Thoughts on Becoming a Mother:

There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss, and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better. I will be better not because of genetics, or money, or that I have read more books, but because I have struggled and toiled for this child. I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed. I have endured and planned over and over again. Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child. I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore and discover. I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life. I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child that my friends will not see. Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love. I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend and sister because I have known pain. I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

I have prevailed.
I have succeeded.
I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs. I listen. And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely. I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes. I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes I WILL be a wonderful mother.

~Author Unknown