I know that I am not a very good blogger. I write scientific papers fairly well but I lack a flair for the other kind of writing. Despite my lack of innate ability I started this blog as an outlet for sharing emotions that I had to keep bottled up in real life.
In so doing I discovered an amazing world of women who were experiencing similar emotions on similar journeys AND who expressed their feelings and experiences with amazing eloquence and style.
I have spent a lot of my life not having a solid sense of who I am. I have a particular clothing and hair style that I like and that seem to be highly socially acceptable, but my personality is much more bland and insecure. I can fake or ignore the insecurity a lot of the time, but I am finding it creeping up when I think about my blogging. I want to keep writing, keep documenting my journey, but I feel like I need a style, a theme to make it work. The fertility treatments and then pregnancy provided a simple framework to follow. But what about now?
So many women shift their blogging beautifully after a baby arrives. But I can't see a cohesive theme, trend or story to my all-over-the-place life right now. Figuring out how to modify my blog gets into an artistic world I left back in college (I went to college intending to be a theater major but once I got there I realized that I wasn't very good compared to most of the others, so I switched career paths dramatically, pun intended).
Since I feel like I need to take baby steps towards getting myself back into a new equilibrium I am going to try something small. Here goes:
The wonderful today: Sharing my baby with new and old friends at an easter party. And mostly, when a dear friend cried with happiness for me.
The sucky today: I am so freaking tired that I don't think quite right. It frightens me, seriously. And today, Dh seems to think that time spent with the baby AND me equals time he covers baby duty FOR me so I can get a break... wtf? I really seriously need more than 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep sometime soon.
The philosophical observation: Infants have no sense of proportionality.
Showing posts with label blog sisterhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog sisterhood. Show all posts
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
The cup
I've written before about not really knowing what to put into a birth plan. All I really want is to make it through safely and have a healthy baby to take home. Otherwise, I'm really flexible. I mean think about it, after you completely give up on a romantic passionate evening with the love of your life being the moment-of-conception memory that you hold forever for your child, do the birth details really matter either?
But I realized that there is one thing that I do care about. A physical object that has come to represent quite a lot to me.
And it's a big plastic cup.
On June 11, 2010, Dh and I had a monitoring appointment as we went into our second IVF attempt. We had planned to take the day off from work to celebrate our anniversary, so this monitoring appointment was supposed to be something relatively positive on the baby-front that we did early in the morning before heading to the zoo to watch the monkeys.
But this monitoring appointment did not go well. In fact, it was terrible. We were told that we only had one follicle after all the injections and surgery and cyst and waiting, etc. etc. We were both upset but I was pretty devastated. That was rock bottom and I was ready to give up. If we weren't already so invested by that time, and already paid close to $25,000 on this baby project, I would have given up and walked away. Licked my wounds. Tried to pretend none of this every happened, that I didn't really want to have a child.
We went to the zoo as planned and ended up napping in front of the monkeys, just absorbing the news and not really talking about it. We managed to have a really nice day that ended with margaritas at a wonderful mexican restaurant.
But the strange thing was that that one follicle turned into three, and one of those was the golden egg that is now little M. My little M who is due TOMORROW.
We shared a drink that day at the zoo, one that came in a big plastic cup with a lid and straw and a giraffe on it. One of those cups meant to be kept and used over and over.
I started using this cup at work to help me keep track of how much water I was drinking over the last 9 months.
It reminds me of that day at the zoo, the day I pretty much gave up hope. And it reminds me of how wrong I was.
I brought that cup home with me when I left school the other day. I want to use it during labor to keep hydrated. I want it to be there to remind me how far we've come, how wrong I was that day, this crazy path we've taken to little M, and all of my blogsisters who have traveled this path before me and who will follow in my shoes hopefully very, very soon.
So my birth plan? Perspective, gratefulness, and a take-home baby.
But I realized that there is one thing that I do care about. A physical object that has come to represent quite a lot to me.
And it's a big plastic cup.
On June 11, 2010, Dh and I had a monitoring appointment as we went into our second IVF attempt. We had planned to take the day off from work to celebrate our anniversary, so this monitoring appointment was supposed to be something relatively positive on the baby-front that we did early in the morning before heading to the zoo to watch the monkeys.
But this monitoring appointment did not go well. In fact, it was terrible. We were told that we only had one follicle after all the injections and surgery and cyst and waiting, etc. etc. We were both upset but I was pretty devastated. That was rock bottom and I was ready to give up. If we weren't already so invested by that time, and already paid close to $25,000 on this baby project, I would have given up and walked away. Licked my wounds. Tried to pretend none of this every happened, that I didn't really want to have a child.
We went to the zoo as planned and ended up napping in front of the monkeys, just absorbing the news and not really talking about it. We managed to have a really nice day that ended with margaritas at a wonderful mexican restaurant.
But the strange thing was that that one follicle turned into three, and one of those was the golden egg that is now little M. My little M who is due TOMORROW.
We shared a drink that day at the zoo, one that came in a big plastic cup with a lid and straw and a giraffe on it. One of those cups meant to be kept and used over and over.
I started using this cup at work to help me keep track of how much water I was drinking over the last 9 months.
It reminds me of that day at the zoo, the day I pretty much gave up hope. And it reminds me of how wrong I was.
I brought that cup home with me when I left school the other day. I want to use it during labor to keep hydrated. I want it to be there to remind me how far we've come, how wrong I was that day, this crazy path we've taken to little M, and all of my blogsisters who have traveled this path before me and who will follow in my shoes hopefully very, very soon.
So my birth plan? Perspective, gratefulness, and a take-home baby.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
One year
I started this blog exactly one year ago today. It has been a year of years in so many ways, and this blog and all of my blog-sisters have been one of the most important parts of it. You have helped to redefine me and changed the way I think about the world and people and life. I thought I'd take a moment to list three of the important things I have learned from blogging over these 365 days.
1) Feelings of desperation won't last forever.
Do you ever have those nights where everything feels panicky and terrible and doomed. You finally fall asleep and when you wake up the next morning things don't seem so bad? This happens on a much longer time-frame too. I still vividly remember those pit-of-my-stomach crying bouts from the miscarriage and other b.s., but I am in a new place now. May I continue to have the wisdom to be patient and find some peace knowing that things will get better, even if it takes a long time, things will get better.
2) There really are people out there who "get it".
I should have reached out to the blogging community much earlier than I did. I can't express how important it has been (and still is) to read other women's stories who confront somewhat similar problems. All of our lives have their unique elements and no two experiences and histories are the same, but we all struggle with the same type of pain. IF is a very different pain than most other bad things, and it leaves us so isolated. Every day since I started blogging I have seriously looked forward to getting on-line and seeing how you all are doing. I can't even begin to express how happy and loved it makes me to read your comments and thoughts and advice and love on my blog posts. I am not alone. I am not alone. There is no better feeling in the world than knowing that someone gets you and cares enough to let you know that you are not alone. Thank you.
3) Unconditional support is the most amazing thing to give and to receive.
This community is so different from real life, and real life should be more like blog-land. We face enough challenges in our real lives. Here, in IF blog-land, we reassure and hold each others' hands. I know I am not always so good at this, but I do try. I have learned over the year how to search for words that comfort and hopefully don't give even a twinge of judgment. It is hard, but the practice I have gotten here has changed how I offer compassion to people in real life. I have learned that there are many times when the right words are just "yes, it completely and totally sucks". We shouldn't feel obliged to always offer advice or attempt to solve someone else's problem. We mostly just need to be there, sitting side-by-side with a warm touch on the shoulder to reassure.
I want to thank you all for sharing your lives with me, your beautiful and touching and often heart-wrenching posts. You are brave souls to put your lives out here for others to read and find solace from. I have gained so much wisdom from your experiences, your bravery, and the brutal honesty with which you express how you are feeling. And thank you so much for being here for me. I am so much the better thanks to your love. I hope the next year takes all of us in wonderful directions and brings us even closer.
love, inB
1) Feelings of desperation won't last forever.
Do you ever have those nights where everything feels panicky and terrible and doomed. You finally fall asleep and when you wake up the next morning things don't seem so bad? This happens on a much longer time-frame too. I still vividly remember those pit-of-my-stomach crying bouts from the miscarriage and other b.s., but I am in a new place now. May I continue to have the wisdom to be patient and find some peace knowing that things will get better, even if it takes a long time, things will get better.
2) There really are people out there who "get it".
I should have reached out to the blogging community much earlier than I did. I can't express how important it has been (and still is) to read other women's stories who confront somewhat similar problems. All of our lives have their unique elements and no two experiences and histories are the same, but we all struggle with the same type of pain. IF is a very different pain than most other bad things, and it leaves us so isolated. Every day since I started blogging I have seriously looked forward to getting on-line and seeing how you all are doing. I can't even begin to express how happy and loved it makes me to read your comments and thoughts and advice and love on my blog posts. I am not alone. I am not alone. There is no better feeling in the world than knowing that someone gets you and cares enough to let you know that you are not alone. Thank you.
3) Unconditional support is the most amazing thing to give and to receive.
This community is so different from real life, and real life should be more like blog-land. We face enough challenges in our real lives. Here, in IF blog-land, we reassure and hold each others' hands. I know I am not always so good at this, but I do try. I have learned over the year how to search for words that comfort and hopefully don't give even a twinge of judgment. It is hard, but the practice I have gotten here has changed how I offer compassion to people in real life. I have learned that there are many times when the right words are just "yes, it completely and totally sucks". We shouldn't feel obliged to always offer advice or attempt to solve someone else's problem. We mostly just need to be there, sitting side-by-side with a warm touch on the shoulder to reassure.
I want to thank you all for sharing your lives with me, your beautiful and touching and often heart-wrenching posts. You are brave souls to put your lives out here for others to read and find solace from. I have gained so much wisdom from your experiences, your bravery, and the brutal honesty with which you express how you are feeling. And thank you so much for being here for me. I am so much the better thanks to your love. I hope the next year takes all of us in wonderful directions and brings us even closer.
love, inB
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Another bout of insomnia
I carry all of you so close to my heart, and think of each and everyone of you numerous times every day. This blog sisterhood is remarkable.
I am blown away by all the support and love in response to my last post. Justine commented that it would be so wonderful if we could all form a circle IRL for each other. That would be spectacular! But I feel so lucky that we at least have the internet to bring us together. Can you imagine how hard all of this must have been about 20 years ago or more? I think I would have lost my mind... it is no surprise that there are some crazy cat ladies out there. I would definitely be one of 'em (there is till time for me to become that though so I shouldn't assume I am out of danger...)
I woke up at 2am to pee and can't get back to sleep. Two and a half hours later and I am still awake, but decided to get up and check on what all of you are up to. Luckily the bouts of insomnia, although regular occurrences, do not happen every night. It is frustrating because I know that my brain ends up kind of fried the next day and I look like a stereotypical worn out pregnant lady with zero glow. But, whatever. It is a much better kind of insomnia than all of the really angst-ridden stress-induced bouts I have had in the past.
One last thing -- you all are angels to say I look thin! I should post another angle someday as the front of my body has such an amazing girth these days, and whatever little muscles I have are buried under lots of extra bodily fluid and other padding... it is really a neat thing though to just let go of all the emotional baggage over my body-image and sit back and go with the ride my body is taking me on.
I am blown away by all the support and love in response to my last post. Justine commented that it would be so wonderful if we could all form a circle IRL for each other. That would be spectacular! But I feel so lucky that we at least have the internet to bring us together. Can you imagine how hard all of this must have been about 20 years ago or more? I think I would have lost my mind... it is no surprise that there are some crazy cat ladies out there. I would definitely be one of 'em (there is till time for me to become that though so I shouldn't assume I am out of danger...)
I woke up at 2am to pee and can't get back to sleep. Two and a half hours later and I am still awake, but decided to get up and check on what all of you are up to. Luckily the bouts of insomnia, although regular occurrences, do not happen every night. It is frustrating because I know that my brain ends up kind of fried the next day and I look like a stereotypical worn out pregnant lady with zero glow. But, whatever. It is a much better kind of insomnia than all of the really angst-ridden stress-induced bouts I have had in the past.
One last thing -- you all are angels to say I look thin! I should post another angle someday as the front of my body has such an amazing girth these days, and whatever little muscles I have are buried under lots of extra bodily fluid and other padding... it is really a neat thing though to just let go of all the emotional baggage over my body-image and sit back and go with the ride my body is taking me on.
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