PAIL: Parenting/Pregnant After Infertility and Loss

Posted by Elphaba in Infertility, PAIL and tagged with , , , , , ,

Thank you for all the awesome feedback yesterday–I’m thrilled to see I wasn’t the only one feeling caught between worlds. So I think we should do this thing.

My thought is that we call the network PAIL: Parenting/Pregnant after Infertility and Loss. Feedback on that?

I know a few of you expressed the desire to join because you’d experienced a loss but not infertility and I think that’s perfect. I think the point everyone made in the comments is that what we needed was a network of people that get pregnancy isn’t sunshine and unicorn farts and that being lucky enough to have a baby is an incredible gift.

It’s more about an attitude than a list of criteria you must meet.

So on that note, there are absolutely no rules if you’d like to join–if you feel you want to be part of it, then you are most welcome. I thought the first place to start is with a blog roll of those interested. I’ll make a button in the next few days for you to add to your own blogs so that it can link to the complete list.

In the meantime, please fill out the form at this link with your own info and we’ll get this rolling.

If you have any ideas or thoughts on what you’d like to see come out of this, please feel free to email me at yolkblogger at gmail dot com.

I’m so excited about this!

For more info on what this is all about, please read my post from yesterday.

Cheers,
Elphie

What’s in an infertility blog?

Posted by Elphaba in Infertility

I started this blog about a year and half ago after I’d had a miscarriage and subsequently discovered getting pregnant a second time wasn’t going to happen with a snap of my fingers. I was angry and sad and confused and I felt really alone surrounded by fertile friends and family members who had no clue what I was going through.

A New York Times article I came across one day talked about the infertility blogger and the community that existed in the world wide web. When I saw that, I immediately wanted in.

The article of course referenced Mel and so after setting myself up, I hopped on over and signed up for my very first ICLW. I was quickly featured on her Friday blog round up and from there I met a few friends and never looked back. This blog became my source of strength. It became my sounding board and a place to say the awful, horrible things I wanted to say out loud. I found hundreds of women who finally understood me.

But then I got pregnant.

Without intervention, a week before my first visit to the fertility clinic, I got those two magic pink lines. And with that, everything changed.

A little while ago Jjiraffe asked if there was an expiration date on the infertility blog. She has always maintained that she isn’t interested in blogging about parenting and that infertility is where her heart is, even though she has her babies. She cited a few examples of blogs that had evolved into other things, including myself, whom she referenced as a mommy blogger.

I was a bit shocked at the comment at first, because I guess I hadn’t realized that’s what I had done. Although I consciously changed the name and look of my blog after Alice was born, I hadn’t categorized myself as anything different yet. But when it comes down to it, I guess that’s what I am now. Unlike Jjiraffe, I no longer feel the tug and need to write about infertility all the time simply because it isn’t a part of my everyday reality anymore. Obviously it’s still something that comes up for me and it will always be there in the background, but now I’m in a place where I would rather write about my adventures in parenting.

Part of that is simply a need to write about my immediate surroundings and the other is self preservation. Sometimes I just don’t want to go back to that dark place. (But of course I will when someone needs me, as with what happened this week.)

What I’m concerned about is how that now alienates me from the ALI community. I haven’t participated in ICLW in a long, long time because I just don’t feel like it’s appropriate anymore. When I was struggling to get pregnant, I kind of resented clicking onto a blog only to discover a post about morning sickness or sleep training when what I wanted to read about someone else who was going through what I was. I was always left with the feeling that the only thing for me to say was “wow, aren’t you lucky to be pregnant/have a baby.”

I don’t really want to do that to someone else and so, I guess that means I now exist on the edge of the community. Having experienced loss and struggle, but also having come out successful on the other side. So what’s next? I guess, for now, I’ll keep writing and see where it takes me, mommy blogging and all.

ETA: Okay Josey, just put into words what I had kind of been thinking. Would people who are pregnant or parents be interested in forming a similar pregnant/parenting after infertility network? This is certainly wouldn’t be intended to alienate anyone who isn’t a parent or pregnant, but simply be a place for those of us who are feeling a little caught between worlds to connect to. Let me know in the comments if you’d be up for it.

What unites us

Posted by Elphaba in Infertility

As I sit here today in the wake of a friend’s tragedy, I wish I had to words to express how sad I am this morning.

Two days ago when Courtney and Marie both emailed me to tell me about Mo, I was in absolute shock. Like the kind you read about where you sit there just staring at the wall, literally unable to believe what you’ve just heard. How could this be? I was absolutely sure when Mo got this last BFP, that this was finally her take home baby. Yes, she’d had losses before, but this time it was going to be different. Yes, she’d had a pregnancy riddled with problems, but they were manageable, they were being closely watched–everything was going to be just fine.

Yesterday, when I woke up in the morning, I was absolutely convinced that I’d go to my computer and see a message confirming that everything was going to be fine. Convinced that a miracle had happened and Mo and her baby were going to be okay. When that didn’t happen, I was crushed. I spent yesterday in a daze, almost on the verge of tears at every moment. But I think I was still in shock.

It was last night that it really hit me. I was sitting in our rocking chair nursing Alice when the image of Mo having to give birth to a baby she knew was already gone hit me like a Mack truck. I imagined her lying in hospital, half a world away from me and sorrow washed over me. I cried silently as I rocked back and forth.

I can’t comprehend the strength and bravery it must have taken for her to do that. I can’t comprehend how unfair it was that she was forced to do that at all.

I know several people have marveled at this community and our ability to rally around those who need us, but I just wanted to add my two cents. Time and time again, this community has been there to pick me up and I am constantly amazed at what this blog has given me.

While circumstances of grief and loss are what brought us all together, it is hope, the beauty of our words and the power that a group of strangers can create that ultimately unites us.

While those in our lives might never understand the love we can feel for someone we’ve never even met, we understand it. Jjiraffe was right when she said we are more than internet friends–we are real friends. When the women who know Mo best launched into action, spreading the word, it was amazing to see the hundreds of messages sent to Mo and her husband. While none of them can take away what has happened, I am sure they were a source of light in amongst the darkest of moments.

Esperanza asked if the sorrow of this community is worth the light it brings, and I believe it is. We found each other when those in our real lives didn’t understand us anymore. We found each other because we know what it’s like to lose a child or what it’s like to never conceive one in the first place. We understand each other in a world that more often than not, doesn’t understand us. Without this place, I know I would have been lost.

In the weeks and months of healing yet to come, I know that this community will still be there for Mo and for everyone else that has to face the worst.

You are all amazing–never forget that.

Update on Mo

Posted by Elphaba in Infertility

I’m just popping in to let you all know that they’re inducing Mo and now all we can do is wait.

I am not a person that prays and I don’t believe in god, but this might be the one time I might break down and ask for divine intervention from a higher power. If there is a god, now would be a good time to prove me wrong.

I wish there was something any of us could to make it a little better for her, but I know there isn’t. All I we can do is hope that she comes through this and there are brighter days on the other side.

Mo, I love you and I’m sorry you have to go through this.

A heavy heart

Posted by Elphaba in Infertility

It is with a heavy heart that I write this post today. Many of you probably know Mo and that she is 22 weeks pregnant with a little boy after three prior miscarriages and a lot of heartache. The terrible news is that last night her water broke and she was rushed to the hospital. Currently, they are waiting to see if her water will replenish, but the chances are very slim that he will make it.

At 22 weeks, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose a baby this late in the game. I know how hard it was to lose a baby early, and I frequently had thoughts throughout my pregnancy later on, wondering what it would be like to lose her now that she was so real.

I know many of you have been through this and it’s just not fair that anyone ever has to experience this kind of loss.

There are obviously no words that can make any of this better, but Mo could use your love and support nonetheless. Please take a moment to head over to your blog and send your love. A few fellow bloggers and I are also arranging some kind of project to send to her–stay tuned for details.

This morning, I can’t stop thinking about Mo and her family–especially the one that almost was. I also can’t help but look at my little girl and be reminded of how incredibly lucky I am. If you too are lucky enough to have a little one in your arms, remember to hug them extra tight today.

Love,
Elphie

Entering Round Two

Posted by Elphaba in Family, fertility, Infertility and tagged with , , , ,

Lately I’ve realized that I’ve started entering round two–as in those people who started having babies two or three years ago are now primed and ready to take the plunge into parenthood a second time.

I have two girlfriends who are now expecting their second child and I’m sure that one (or both) of my sister-in-laws is going to announce she’s pregnant with number two any day now. I’ve even started doing the “watch and see if they accept a glass of wine at dinner” dance. And not just that, ensuring that they actually drink it. I know that game all too well.

I bring this up because it’s still a minefield of emotions when I hear a pregnancy announcement. Sure, I got my baby and my happy ending, but there is still a part of me that dies a little when someone gets pregnant so easily. When someone has a two year old and you know they planned it just so they’ll be a certain age apart and it just works like that. When someone decides this time they’d like a baby in the spring and they have sex and sure enough, they have a baby in the spring.

Because the majority of the population never has to know the sting of infertility, I’m surrounded by people who have no idea how lucky they are that it’s so easy for them. And sometimes that just pisses me off. (Not that I would wish infertility on anyone, I just wish that the fertile could understand just a little what it feels like.)

I hate that my time spent in the trenches has turned me into this. I hate that I can’t just be happy for them. That I can smile and say congratulations, but in the back of my mind is always the caveat, “wow, must be nice that it’s so easy.”

I’d be lying if I hadn’t already thought at length about our own number two. I know that I don’t want to wait too long before trying again, because I’ll be 34 this year and if it takes as long the next time as it did the first time, we really have no time to lose. And maybe I’ll get pregnant right away this time (after all, they never did find anything wrong with either of us–sometimes I hope it was just a bad fluke that any of it happened), or maybe it’ll take two years again and that will suck.

I guess what also makes the words stick in my throat is that the fertile gets to approach a second child with excitement and anticipation. On the other hand, the infertile gets to approach a second child with the underlying knowledge that we could be in for another round of tears and heartbreak and sorrow. That no matter what happens, the journey to our first child will always taint the journey to another.

But maybe I’m not even entitled to these feelings anymore. I have a baby and maybe I really should just get over it.

But even if I take myself out of the equation, I still feel it for all the women I know who are still struggling, who are still fighting, who are still waiting, wishing and hoping. I wish it were easy for everyone.

 

 

Month 2

Posted by Elphaba in Infertility

Dear Alice,

Today you are two months old and I can’t believe how fast that time has gone. I’m pretty sure that next time I blink you’re going to be all grown up with kids of your own as you dash back and forth between accepting your Nobel Prize and putting the finishing touches on your latest cookbook. Or something like that. No pressure though. I promise.

This month you’ve become so much more interactive. You truly have the biggest most beautiful smile in the world. Lately, I swear you’ve got a tiny little giggle to go with that as well.  You certainly make a lot of sounds as though you’re trying to tell me something–you just don’t have the words yet. You’ve discovered the wonder that is your hands and that they can grab things all around you. You’ve now become acquainted with such miraculous things as your other hand, your hanging toys, my hair and much to daddy’s chagrin, his chest hair. You also bat your toys now with real purpose, rather than just random flailings and you love to stand straight up on your legs–you look so proud whenever you do.

You also rolled over for the first time the other day–and then three more times until you obviously were worn out and gave me a look that said “seriously Mom, enough already.”  (It’s okay, I took a video I can watch over and over.)

The bath continues to be your favourite time of day. I think you just like looking at yourself in the mirror, which really does make sense because you are beyond adorable. You like to splash around in there and I think you’d spend all day in the water if we’d let you. (I have no idea where you got this from because your mom hates the bath.) You’re also turning out to be an extrovert. You can be having a completely cranky day, but take you to a room full of people and suddenly you are the life of the party smiling and cooing at everyone. (I also don’t know where that came from because, trust me, your mom and dad are textbook introverts.)

Your hair is starting to really grow in and my prediction is you’re going to have dark hair like me and blue eyes like your daddy. You’re also growing like crazy–at last count you were 12 lbs 11 oz and somewhere between 24-25 inches.

Breast feeding continues to have its challenges, but we’ve come light years from where were a month ago. Based on how fast you’re growing, I’d say overall we’re doing okay in that department. You’ve developed into quite a good sleeper at night, going as long as seven hours without eating or waking. Of course you still have your nights of restlessness and wakefulness, but we all have our off days.

When I look at you I can’t believe how much I love you. (I want to ask your grandma if she loves me like I love you and if so, apologize for every mean, bratty thing I ever did.)  I can’t believe how much I want to protect you and how much I want for you in the future. I love seeing your personality develop. Although I can already tell how much I’m going to miss my tiny little baby when you get older, I can’t wait to see who you will become.

Love,
Mom

The Postpartum Body

Posted by Elphaba in Weight Loss and tagged with , , , ,

I’m not feeling very good about myself in the physical sense these days. I know I should be grateful and amazed the body that grew and birthed my daughter, and I am, but really eight weeks after her birth, I just feel fat.

I gained more weight during my pregnancy than I should have. Currently, I’m 15 lbs heavier than my pre-pregnancy weight. Couple that with the 15 other lbs I acquired during my why-can’t-I-get-pregnant-spiral and I’m now a full 30 lbs heavier than the weight I should be.

I’ve never been in this place before. I’ve never been this heavy before. I know people around me say cut yourself some slack, you just had a baby, but I keep reading about women who’ve returned to their pre-pregnancy state in a matter of weeks and I know I indulged too much during my pregnancy. I brushed aside concerns of how hard it would be to lose weight after and now I’m paying for it.

And it’s been 8 weeks. Soon it’ll be 12 and 18 and 24 and then I won’t have just had a baby and I’m worried I’ll still be here.

Nothing in my closet fits me. Not even my winter coat will do up around my giant ass. That is just super depressing. My stomach is still stretched out and I’m not sure how long it takes to go back to normal, but it seems like it’s taking longer than it should.

The worst part about all this is that because I feel so ugly, I have barely taken any photos of myself with Alice. Every single one I take, I don’t see me and my sweet little girl–all I see are my six double chins. That’s even more depressing.

Yesterday we were at my niece’s birthday party and as I sat there wearing my maternity jeans (the only thing that fits), stained nursing tank that I wore to bed the night before and slobby grey t-shirt, I realized how little pride in my appearance I’ve been taking.

And worse yet, I’m using Alice as my shield. Instead of worrying about myself, I just dress her up and figure she looks adorable enough to make up for both of us. As long as she looks cute, who cares what I look like.

Except I know that’s not going to work for much longer. I don’t know how much longer I can stare at an entire closet full of clothes that I can’t fit into and be okay with that. I can’t spend the entire summer covered up because I feel bad about myself.

Obviously, I need to do something about it. My diet of choice has always been Weight Watchers. I know the program, I feel comfortable with it and I am used to it. The problem is that so far, I can’t seem to commit to it. So, I’m putting it out there into writing so I can’t take it back.

Today I am 164.4 lbs. (There I said it.) And my goal is 135 lbs. Weigh-ins will be on Fridays.

And I took a photo of the two of us. Because I can’t keep missing this time together.

Baby shower

Posted by Elphaba in Baby Stuff and tagged with , , , ,

Oh my goodness, I am so behind. It was a bit of a crazy week with my mom visiting us, Mr. M going out of town and my having to single parent for the first time and of course, it was Alice’s baby shower last Sunday!

Personally, I much prefer the method of waiting until the baby is born until having the shower because a) I feel like having it beforehand is sort of tempting fate and b) then everyone gets to meet the baby.

I know why people have them before–so they can get all the stuff they need, but I was pretty insistent that I wanted it to be after. And that seems to be the norm around these parts as well. So there you go. (Just in case anyone had been wondering why I hadn’t had a shower yet. Because I’m sure you’re all sitting around thinking about these things 24 hours a day.)

Anyways, I guess I was a bit surprised by the whole affair. I know for so many IFers, the baby shower is the moment when we feel like we’ve finally arrived. Like that’s the tipping point from wanting a baby to getting a baby and I think I was expecting to feel a little more emotional about the whole thing.

Instead, I felt just like a regular new mom basking in the warmth of friends and family. I just felt normal. And that was nice. There were other babies and toddlers and  pregnant women and grandmothers and great grandmothers and aunts and cousins and old friends and it was just the whole circle of life in one room. Although it happens in thousands of places everyday, this was our special corner of the universe.

I suppose it’s because Alice has been around for almost eight weeks now. The reality of her existence is as real as it gets, and now, I’m not a woman that struggled to get pregnant, I’m just a woman who had a baby. The past will always stick with me, but to the rest of the world, I’m just a regular mom now. (And many of the people in that room had no idea about how we got here anyways.)

The shower was so lovely. Alice got lots of beautiful gifts and my sister-in-law organized a group gift of a really nice high chair. They also organized a special momento where everyone wrote their favourite quote from a children’s book on a blank canvas for us to hang on the wall.

Alice was so well behaved and was the life of the party. I think she may turn out to be the extrovert that neither of her parents are. She also looked as adorable as humanly possible in her pretty party dress. I can’t express just how much in love with this little person I am and how lucky I feel to have her in my life. She’s simply amazing.