Friday, October 21, 2016

Measuring myself

"I read somewhere how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong, but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions."
~ Christopher McCandless (aka Alexaxder SuperTramp); Into the Wild

I rarely cry with movies. Though many stories have characters I can connect with, it's rare that the emotions of a moment, such as death or tragedy or loss, for the character bring me to tears. So it was a rare moment at the end of Into the Wild where the tears easily flowed. The touching of a personal truth.

For a long time I've struggled with finding my road through life. While others around me happily settled onto a particular path, I've never found something that I can truly settle into. On the one hand, having the comfort of predictability and stability seems ideal, especially during moments where I feel overwhelmed. To not live paycheck to paycheck, to be able to afford regular vacations and to know exactly what the work day will entail. On the other hand, though, is the knowledge that such stability often leads to me being bored at best, if not severely depressed. Its in those moments of stability that I've craved finding meaning and adventure. And so I find myself dropping the stability and looking for opportunities to live more on the edge.

In the past, this testing limits has come in different forms. From moving to Seattle with only a small cushion of money and no job lined up, to pursuing graduate school, to pursuing risker outdoor sports (rock-climbing, cliff jumping, skiing out of bounds and hiking trips through rougher terrain) dating Grey (we initially didn't get along) and decisions made will in the treatment trenches, those moments/decisions to do something outside my comfort zone have brought insights and benefits that I wouldn't have known otherwise.

With job hunting, I've found myself facing the dilemma almost daily. I come across opportunities that would offer stability and good pay, but I usually find my stomach turning with the thought of solely being confined behind a desk, clocking hours solely so someone else can become a little richer.
On the other end is the excitement that comes with science education research, pursuing grants and utilizing my skills in a way that truly would have an impact. The problem there, though, is knowing that there's a lot of risk with grant writing as one's position is constantly focused on finding grant opportunities continually applying as funding rates are at an all time low.

In a weird way, I'm measuring myself. This transition in career has become a strange journey of applying all the lessons I've learned and determining what road ahead is the one to pursue that will allow me to live with myself. To have no regrets both in making the best decisions for my family's security but also finding enough meaning in my world so that I'm also being true to this need for adventure.

Maybe that's why those tears came so readily last night. Why today has been more of an emotional one. That though Chris McCandless's story ends with him dying alone in the middle of the wilderness due to starvation and poor planning, he did so living a life filled with meaning and purpose.

Monday, October 17, 2016

MicroblogMondays: from infertile soil

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

This past weekend Grey and I took the Beats apple picking. Per recommendations from Grey's coworkers, we selected an older orchard that was only 30 mins away, allowing us a morning of fun without having to sacrifice nap time.

As Grey and I chased two excited preschoolers among the trees, Grey pointed out the large granite stones embedded in the earth. Tapping them, I immediately had visions of how destructive they would be to a plow, making farming for crops a next to impossible event.

Yet the trees didn't seem to mind. In fact, as Grey pointed out, they were thriving. Soil that was not fit for farming was actually perfect for an orchard.

I've been thinking a lot about this observation and how this theme plays throughout life. There's my current theme of career transition (so much going on there at the moment), but there have been other themes too. From life goals to dating to family building. There's what I originally had in my mind as being ideal and perfect, fighting to make something work that clearly wasn't a good fit.

How I use to curse this seemingly infertile soil I had been given.

Without that soil, though, I wouldn't have discovered some amazing fruits. Something precious that most aren't willing to consider given the toil involved.

We're told we reap what we sow. But often it's more than that given where we are sowing seeds. Infertile soil that can yield something special.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

In a moment

I've been cranky lately. Maybe it's the weather change combined with things being up in the air, but my mood hasn't been the best lately. This morning on the bus wasn't much different. Hiding behind a pair of sunglasses I attempted to distract myself for all the negative, growing more agitated with all the heavy traffic and how late I was running.

After an hour I decided walking 2 miles would be faster. So off the bus I hopped, passing a long line of cars and finding myself frustrated by the number of times I had to cross the street due to construction.

Then I saw the police lights. Followed by multiple filming crews. Suddenly I found myself on a block totally devoid of traffic. Police tape wrapped around a large intersection. And then the red curtains.

People on both sides just staring.

"He's dead," someone whispered into their phone.

"Never try to outrun a semi," another said.

Just like that, getting into work didn't matter. Experimental plans could be modified. What mattered more was checking in with Grey and checking on the Beats. Because in a moment it can all be gone. Today some family has to face that.

Monday, October 3, 2016

#Microblog Mondays: Kissing Frogs

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

On Tuesday, I found myself sitting in a small office at the medical school. On the other side of the table is the coordinator for a program I had applied for. Grabbing a box of tissues, she passes them to me before saying "I'm so sorry." And with that, we talked. We talk about the position I thought was a golden opportunity and about how the faculty who have been doing the interviews had completely cut her out of the loop. How she thinks I would be terribly bored and frustrated with the fellowship the way these faculty have been running it. I listen as she vents her frustration and anger, threatening out loud to terminate the position all together as the faculty are not meeting the criteria of the program and are treating the fellow like a slave.

Then she looks at me and confesses her confusion that someone with my background and experience would even need this type of training. "Don't get me wrong, I would love to work with you," she states, "but Cristy, you don't need this. With the postdoc you're completing now, you're more than qualified to take on the job market." And with that, we talked about options and things for me to consider. That she wants me to continue to use the resources she's generously allowed me access to these past few months and is happy to help in anyway. But it also was clear I need to start thinking outside the box as there are options I'm not even aware of yet. It's just a matter of tapping into them

And with that, I found myself in extremely scary territory: I'm officially job hunting


In a way, job hunting involves kissing a lot of frogs. You find yourself going down one path or another, trying on the different options to see if there's a fit. Some frogs seem right from the beginning only to fizzle out, while others are ones you need to check off the list with a firm "NO." Still, there are some frogs that do pan out, becoming more that what was initially expected.

Thing with all this kissing is you never know. Hence the importance of some good lip balm and a tooth brush.


For the last week, I've been putting the pieces back together and trying to figure out how to make this next step. The truth of the matter is that most PhDs are trained for an academic setting. We format our CVs to emphasize publications and who we trained with. But the rest of the world doesn't exist this way. Skills are the emphasis and the ability to show you can integrate all you've learn over the past 6-10 yrs into the real world is highly valued. The problem is we're not taught how to do this. Slowly there have been talks, panels and career fairs that allow for connections, but breaking into industry, nonprofit or government isn't as seamless as many assume it will be.

Still, I've never done well competing with hundreds of people for anything. I like thinking outside the box and working in ways most hadn't considered. Most importantly, I'm still very passionate about science education and communication. There's a need.

So I've been slowly activating my network; reaching out to those I know who are working in positions that just sound cool. I've been learning to network, looking into joining organizations and finally dusting off my Linked.In profile (feel free to contact me if you want to connect). But most importantly has been a mental shift. Of being willing to look into options for possibilities that most don't even know exist.

All of this is going to take some time. I figure about a year due to me also juggling research (one review written; hoping for at least one primary paper next year) as well as exploring all these new options. Still it's time. I've been a trainee for too long. Time to remove the training wheels and go out on my own.

Bring on the lip balm.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

A journey of love: review of Julia Leigh's Avalanche: A Love Story

This post is part of Pamela's blog book tour for Avalanche: A Love Story. For more reviews and/or to participate, please go here

*Author's note: I've struggled with this memoir for two weeks, particularly after Rachel Cusk's poor NYT book review. My goal was to write a honest review that couples my interpretation of the emotions from going through treatment, which Julia Leigh's story brought to the surface. So in addition to my words, I'm including music in this review. A soundtrack that I've been playing over and over as I've been reflecting on this story. This interpretation is my own with no direct ties to either Ms. Leigh or the musician featured here.*

Like many medical treatments, no one decides to pursue IVF without careful consideration. The expense is something that will stop most people from even considering this an option, but add in the emotional roller coaster, fueled by altering hormones, countless injections, a drain of finances and so much uncertainty make it appear as a very unattractive gamble. Yet for those living with infertility, the opportunity to have a child drives many to pursue this path to expand their family. The promise of resolving infertility (though not curing it) through pregnancy leads so many to take this gamble, risking financial ruin, stigma and especially heartbreak along the way. After all, it is biologically engrained in humans to reproduce. To not do so would be detrimental to the species.

Despite us living in an era of great medical advances, the myths and misunderstandings surrounding IVF remain. Many who have not experienced treatments or faced them as an option are flippant in their understanding of what this medical procedure entails. Though there are many stories of someone's friend's second cousin achieving pregnancy through fertility treatments, particularly IVF, these same people are unable to fill in all the details, like of the repeated losses/failed treatments, of the financial strain, the altered emotional state and physical toll caused by the fertility drug and especially the emotional trauma caused by the process. Worse yet are those who chose not to pursue treatments or end treatments after many failed rounds and find themselves not parenting. In an act of self-preservation, setting healthy boundaries and choosing to live a full life, they are often shunned, considered selfish and informed they are not parenting because "they didn't want it enough."

Equally foreign is the truth about IVF success. The reality that more often than not that these treatments fail. The statistics are often suppressed given that this is an industry that relies on selling hope. The hope of coming out the other side with the child you dreamed of expanding your family with. It is my firm belief that many who go into this business do so with the desire to help the patients involved; they want to bring that child into being. But when selling hope, there's money involved. And the truth is the good intentions often get skewed when there is money involved. And so the truth about fertility treatment success rates is often not evident so the way the statistics are performed is often not uniform and usually unclear.

Julia Leigh's memoir tackles all of these issues, with the author doing so by sharing her story. A story that starts out the way so many of us do. She falls in love, decides to expand her family and takes actions to do so. A similar start to the story of family building that many people around the world share. Unapologetically Ms. Leigh tells of her relationship with Paul, starting with their first meeting and love affair to their relationship over the years and then when they fall in love again. At this point, she is older, but she is also determined to nurture the new family she has while planning with Paul for bringing their child into the world. There are hints that time may be a factor, but there are other worries and obligations that Ms. Leigh is pursuing. Plus there is the added tales of those who successfully conceive well into their 40s. A hope of overcoming biological limitations.

It is when months of trying to conceive roll by that things begin to fall apart. Ms. Leigh details the arguments she and Paul face. A road that ultimately leads to them separating and divorcing. Promises made are not kept. And suddenly Ms. Leigh finds single and pursuing fertility treatments on her own. Combating the naysayers while pursuing the child already born in her heart.

It is with this decision that Ms. Leigh lays out in beautiful detail the conflict the average person living with infertility goes through with loved ones and family. Despite good intentions, pain is caused through lack of support and injections of judgement. All of it feeling of very intimate betrayal. Ms. Leigh guides her readers through each moment, bringing those who are open to the experience an up-close and personal view of how much these moments impacted her. Most similarly was finding the much needed support in unlikely sources. These shelters from the storm that was raging.

Ms. Leigh then goes on to share all the details on her journey through fertility treatments. From the beginning, there's a feeling of hope. The reproductive endocrinologists (REs) who she works closely with are driven to help her bring home her childling. In many moments, I found myself having flashes from my own treatment experience, with me also having a deep affection for the nurses who oversaw my care. There is also her injection regiment, where she details how she prepares and the worry of doing anything wrong, something many in the infertility community can relate with. But as Ms. Leigh goes on there's an underlying sense of ick that surfaces, from the offers of add-ons where the data of their benefit is unclear to the medical advice where they claim the decision is her own when clearly they are influencing her to the contract Ms. Leigh signs where it is disclosed that the doctors are financially benefitting from the treatments that administer. As Ms. Leigh shares the details in a way that illustrates the mindset of a fertility treatment patient, it's hard not to experience the confusion, uncertainty and lack of control caused by these mind wars.

In the end, Ms. Leigh decides to end the madness and reclaim her live. A decision that leads to grief for the loss of her childling. But also there is a reclaiming of control over the process. A claiming of limitations and setting of boundaries. Interestingly enough, while initially criticized for going this route alone, there is now pushing for her not to stop, revealing the trauma of not being allowed to properly grieve what was loss.

Ms. Leigh's book ends on a hopeful note; of choosing to love after things have fallen apart. Most impressively, she shares vignettes about her with her nieces and nephews. She shows her ability to love on the deepest of levels, especially during moments of pain. She counters all claims that those not parenting are unable to love on the deepest of levels. That this connection is not restricted solely to those who give birth.

Avalanche, in the end, is a love story in its truest form. A story of love that so many have experienced. Its the story of someone who sacrificed so much to bring her son/daughter into the world. One that anyone who is parenting or has ever desired to parent can relate with. The difference is that Ms. Leigh finds herself grieving the dead of this child. While others will go on to encounter milestone after milestone, she is burying her baby. That's not selfish and uncaring, but a love most dear. Evidence to refute all the myths and misconceptions surrounding those who are not parenting. That instead of being shallow and weak, these individuals are filled with strength, love and compassion. That they know how to love on levels and in ways that many fail to understand.

And maybe that's the lesson we're all meant to understand: that love comes in many forms. No better and no worse.

Monday, September 19, 2016

#MicroblogMondays: why we need to talk about infertility

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Sitting on the bus back to campus, I finished the last page of Julia Leigh's Avalanche: A Love Story and felt like I had been stunned. The emotions welling up in me, combined with my own memories of fertility treatments, reveal a tangled web that still requires more picking. 

In an attempt to make sense of the emotions, I do a web-search looking to see what others have to say about Julia's book. One of the first hits reveals a review from the New York Times by Rachel Cusk. As I read, the numbness is replacing by hot anger. 

This week, Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos is hosting a blog book tour for Avalanche. Already some have asked why this is necessary. For those who wonder, I invite you to read Ms. Cusk's review as she illustrates beautifully how much we need to be talking openly about infertility. Ms. Cusk opens her review by drawing a comparison between those who want to be successful writers and those who undergo fertility treatments, stating early on that the chance of success is extremely low and both parties are knowingly setting themselves up for heartache. That somehow we are asking for pain upon pain in the pursuit to grow our families. The utter lack of empathy is clear from the first paragraph.

The sad part is most people share Ms. Cusk's opinion. Most see infertility as something we brought on ourselves. Be if we waited too long or that we aren't deserving or that parenting isn't part of a higher-power's plan for us or maybe that we did something to cause all of this. We absolutely deserve this in their eyes. 

Infertility isn't the first disease to face such stigma. 100 yrs ago, the American Cancer Society was founded during a period when a similar mindset was inflicted those diagnosed with cancer. It was through public education and stories, both of survivors and family, that changed how we view cancer today. But this only came because stories were shared, like Julia's memoir, Belle Bogg's recent book The Art of Waiting as well as many other books (Pamela's Silent Sororty, etc), this community of bloggers/tweeters/etc and even those who've chosen to share their journey, no matter the stage. The truth is, we need to talk about infertility and what it does to a person, a couple, a family and even a community. 

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

#MicroblogMondays: Walden

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cur a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner and reduce it to its lowest terms."
~ Henry David Thoreau. Walden

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