No More Apologies

I'm a people pleaser. It's really hard for me to tell someone no or to not make sure someone else is ok. Often this is at the expense of my own time, emotion and resources. One area that I've noticed I apologize for is not having kids.

Yes, you read that right. How insane is it to apologize or feel guilty for something that I have no control over? Are you thinking when would this happen?

I'm done apologizing for having money to go to a nice restaurant. For having the resources to go away on vacation. For having the planning and financial security to be debt free much sooner than we thought. For using StitchFix every other month or getting my hair done at a salon or not buying clothes on sale or dropping $100 on a bottle of kick ass scotch or sleeping in to whatever time I want on the weekend or going to the gym 4 times a week or having furniture with pointy corners. The list goes on and on.

Because here's the thing. We would much rather have a baby. But we don't. And wanting a baby doesn't mean you get a baby. It doesn't make it so. So while I'd rather have to worry about diapers and daycare costs, I don't have to. Instead we have to build a life without those worries and figure out what that life will look like now.

What happens when a friend brings up one of these things is that I feel guilty that I don't have a child. I feel shame that they may think I didn't want a baby enough. And I feel like I have to stress that we'd rather have a baby than nice dinners and classy furniture and no debt (someday). And frankly, that's bullshit (sorry for the French, Mom). I shouldn't have to feel guilty or apologize for moving forward in small ways from our grieving. It's been just shy of a year from our failed transfer. It's a step forward that I can sometimes be around pregnant ladies and newborns. These look like small steps, but they are in fact huge steps toward the new "now".

I have been blessed to have a close circle of friends that span my lifetime from toddler-hood to a SIL. Those friends get carte blanche to complain about their kids. That's what friends do. They need to vent and discuss the hard things and the things they wish they had and the way they wish things were in the moment. I have a church family that understands where we've been and I never feel like I have to apologize or explain away my happiness in where we're heading. I have a band of barren b*tches online that support and celebrate the steps forward even while they are in the trenches still of treatments and interventions. I am so lucky to have the wide range of support and love that I do walking the "after" road of IF.

This is where it gets a bit sticky and I'm going to put my foot right in it. If you have a casual friend that you know struggled with IF and didn't get the happy ending, don't complain to them about how hard it is to have kids and all the things you've given up. I'm sure you have plenty of friends who are moms that you can commiserate with. I know it's hard to raise kids, to be strapped for cash, to want sleep so badly you can taste it. But unless we're close friends it is really difficult to feel empathetic with you over your multiple children and the complexities that come along with them. In fact, if you have a close friend that is struggling or grieving over IF and possibly moving to a childfree life, maybe don't vent to them as much as you'd like to unless they invite you too or if you've simply asked if it's ok with them.

So my next step forward? No. More. Apologies. No. More. Guilt.

The Face of Infertility

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. I wasn't going to blog because, c'mon yinz guys...I feel like that's all this blog has been about for the last three years. But today is one of those days. It's a heavy day. And sometimes it helps to get that out in the gym (tried it), on paper (currently typing) or through song (I don't have enough gas in the state of Texas to drive and sing this out).

We are the face of infertility. E and I. It's not just us. I will guarantee you that we are not the only people you know who are struggling/have struggled/will struggle with trying to have a family. But tonight's post is just about me.

It's been nine months since we had our failed transfer. We realized that this past Sunday. It's a sobering realization. This should have been a joyous time in our lives, a time of counting fingers and toes, a time of not enough sleep, a time of too many diapers and making sure the cats didn't smother a newborn since babies are just so warm and easy to curl up with.

Normally I would try and make lemonade at this point...with some vodka to smooth the edges. But tonight I'm in a lemons mood. Our lives will always look different from what we imagined. Our new normal is heartbreaking in the smallest most surprising ways.

I can't sit through baby dedications at church. Hearing babies cry in the waiting room at work can be heart wrenching. Books and movies and TV shows are a minefield of pregnancy story lines, lame jokes about sleep deprivation, and completely unrealistic infertility story lines with *surprise surprise* happy endings. Even Second Lady Pence is contributing to the fallacies that abound in the public about infertility. Let me just say here and now that the Jesus I know loves science. So I don't think He has serious concerns over using the science that we have to try and have babies when our bodies are broken. Conceiving or lack of is not tied to anyone's faith.

"Relax and it'll happen."

"When it's God's timing."

"Have you tried a natural diet?"

"You can always just adopt."

"Eat pineapple, drink pomegranate juice, take herbs, do eastern medicine."

In the last few days of this week, if you know someone whose heart has been scoured raw by infertility, do them a favor. Support them. Don't offer advice. If you're a believer pray for their hearts and grace and mercy. Let them cry or rage or pretend that nothing is wrong.

I didn't write this post to garner sympathy or to make anyone feel bad for us. It's just a picture of what this life looks like with infertility and no options left. Tomorrow will be less heavy. Even happy. This weekend will be amazing. The heavy times will ebb and flow just as the good times do.

Italian Easter Bread - Minus the Eggs

I know, I know. I always say I'm going to write more and then I don't. And you all sit at home staring at your computer screen screaming "WHHHHHHHY?????" Well, maybe not.

Per my usual MO, I had to try baking something new this Easter. I can't be fine with the regular sugar cookies or dying eggs. Nope. I have to try something new. This year's experiment is Italian Easter Bread. It's spiked with anise and orange zest and right now my kitchen smells amazing. It also, incidentally, smells like bacon. When I bake something new and tomorrow is a day off of work, there may or may not be some wine involved. Which leads to breakfast at 10:30pm, as it should. Because sustenance is needed when baking! And there's 2 hours left to go between baking and cooling loaves.

Now....before anyone who is an Italian scrolls down and notices that there are no hard cooked eggs dotting my bread, can I just say that I find whole eggs in bread weird? I'm sorry. Maybe I'm more German than Italian? But it just gives me the heebie jeebies. So this is a hard cooked egg free version.

Does anyone remember when two years ago I attempted quick bread at Easter and it was as flat as pancakes? In case you need a reminder....

My caption on Facebook was "My bread didn't rise but Jesus did!"

Yeast bread scares the crap out of me. If the liquid is too hot you kill the yeast. If it's too cold the yeast doesn't activate. And you won't know until it's too late. If you underproof or overproof the world will end, according to Paul Hollywood. Supposedly you can tell if it's over or under based on the crumb and the density? All I know is bread is bread is bread is bread. Luckily this recipe rose beautifully both through the first and second proofing. Here's a picture of the unglazed loaves that are cooling at the moment.

It's a recipe from Brown Eyed Baker (http://www.browneyedbaker.com/italian-easter-bread-recipe/) and she talks about Pgh...so this has to be good, right? Incidentally, this is the second time in 4 months that I have overrun my Kitchen Aid mixer. This dough is a beast. It's 8 cups of flour and so by the time all the liquids and fats were added, it was coming all the way up to the attachment housing. Is this a sign that E should get me the industrial mixer next time around? Where would we even store it? Guess I'll have to keep the one I have.

I'll have to try and remember to post a picture of the finished products before they're wrapped and gifted. If I don't eat it all before then.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Easter weekend!

Bah, Blah and Bupkis

So I got bupkis. I'm trying to write more on here but some days there just isn't much to say. Or rather there's a crap ton of stuff in my head, but I'm not sure how to get it all out. I worry about saying something offensive. About someone pitying us. About coming across too abrasive. About coming across as pathetic. So I got bupkis.

Today was kind of blah. Everyone has those days. Today was one for me. Work was ok. The gym was ok. Everything was just mediocre.I'm pretty sure it wasn't everyone else. I think it's me today.

Bah. People who think they're more important and transfer that idea to their kids. Lady who almost caused a three car accident with your three kids in the car, I"m giving you the dead eye. We live in a society where everyone likes to believe they are a special snowflake. Their kids are special snowflakes. Their pets are special snowflakes. And no one can be "wrong" but simply "that's their opinion and they're entitled to it". Everyone has to feel like they are heard about every single blooming subject and that their opinion is validated.

....um, clearly I'm a lot more Bah than I realized tonight. And possibly offensive if you actually do have a special snowflake.

"Bend before you break"

When we were actively trying and doing IUIs and going through embryo donation I would listen to my favorite artist, Brandi Carlile, over and over. I pretty much listen to something she sings just about every day. 

Her last album has a song called Wilder (We're Chained). She and her partner have a daughter and she has endo herself; her partner carried their daughter. I've never read an article or interview where she talks about their daughter's conception but my guess is it was IVF or donated embryos. (So I found out today, 1/16/18 that in fact they used one of her eggs and a sperm donor. I felt that this was relevant and should be corrected.)

The way I interpret the song is talking to a child about not looking like either of the grandparents but that they're chained together regardless. It's a beautiful song. This song was my heart as we were going through embryo donation. It was the song I hoped to have playing during delivery. 

I've mentioned in the past that if our end game of having children didn't work out that I was going to become a Brandi roadie. Or at the very least see her in concert. They did a tour last year called Pindrop and it was an all acoustic tour in small venues built for that sound. I was so disappointed that we couldn't get tickets in Dallas. I mean we could have but we were saving for embryo donation at the time and the ticket prices were ridiculous through the different ticket organizations. 

She announced a new tour last week that is in celebration of the 10 year anniversary of her album "The Story". It's acoustic and small venues. It's exactly the tour I'd want to see her live for the first time. We scored tickets and I'm so excited! 

It feels like a closure of sorts. We started trying to have a baby almost 4 years ago. The concert is our anniversary weekend. When I'd have a negative or disappointing visit at the RE's office (which was always, through no fault of our amazing doctor's), when our hearts broke into one more shard, when the stress became overwhelming it was Brandi I would listen to at loud enough to shatter my eardrum volumes while I sobbed my way through the following hours. In honor of all the struggle and heartache, as a balm to my spirit, and a small blessing for one thing that we planned on panning out, there will be a day in the next months when I get to hear her sing it all in person.

New Year's Resolutions

Personally, I'm not a fan of New Year's resolutions. It sets me up for failure. I tend to hold myself to unattainable standards. Even when I'm doing all that I can at a given time, I still think I should have done more or be doing more. So this year my "resolutions" are more suggestions than anything else. The strictures are loose and free. 

1. To blog more. Well, considering the paucity of the blog posts in the last year or two this will not be hard to achieve. But I do find it soothing to write and get stuff out. So there should be more activity on here than there has been.

2. To work out consistently. I refuse to put a number on this. I get very numbers-obsessed. I don't count calories for the same reason. It becomes a competition with myself to not exceed or to over-do depending on the activity. 

3. To do one thing each week that brings me joy. Sing along in the car, bake something I want to make for no reason, spend time with friends, eat a really great cupcake. I'm not sure what all will fall into this category but I'm going to find out.

4. To continue to heal and grieve and move forward from our infertility process. 

I also believe I would be remiss if I didn't include Henry and Evie's resolutions. If I am correct those would include the following:

1. Convincing E and I that they should be fed multiple times a day.

2. More cat toys, please. Amazon has plenty that they would like to try and then discard after 30 seconds.

3. Teach E and I to understand what they say. 

4. Sleep more. I personally don't think it's possible, but hey, at least they have goals.