#MicroblogMondays: Finding a way

"Because the history of evolution is that life escapes all barriers. Life breaks free. Life expands to new territories. Painfully, perhaps even dangerously. But life finds a way."

~Jurassic Park

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

Sock exchange revival

I've been waffling on this post for a little while. Partly because I've been so busy and finding time for something like this is daunting. That and the fact that Grey is likely to kill me once he finds out. But, in light of the recent news from Jay (and the fact that I've managed to polish off half a bottle of Chandon all by myself), I'm feeling festive. That and I need a good excuse to pick up the needles again.

Brief history on the socks: the idea is not mine. I found this idea while in the thick of infertility and was immediately inspired because it was something that I could do to spread support to those in the trenches. The thing is, I learned very quickly that support should never be limited to those undergoing fertility treatments. Support needs to be extended to all members of this community, be it that they are newly diagnosed, preparing for treatment, resolved after infertility and everywhere in between.

So, in honor of 2015 and all the promise of a new year, I'm hosting another sock exchange. With a twist. I will be participating in this exchange and my recipient will receive a pair of knitted socks from yours truly. Specifically this pattern titled Butterfly Garden.

For those participating, socks don't need to be handmade. Please remember I'm a crazy knitter who uses knitting as a form of therapy. If this isn't your cup of tea, please don't feel like you can not participate as I can easily recommend websites to buy socks from, such as here and here.  All that matters is that you pick out a pair for a fellow ALIers and send them to them.  

In addition, for anyone who is dying for these socks and wants motivation to knit them (or crochet, I don't discriminate), please find me on Ravelry (search for Phytoknitter). I'm also making this a knit-along. Doesn't matter if you are experienced or have decided to pick up the needles for the very first time. Will make it happen.

Here are the rules:
1) Leave a comment below to let me know if your interested. This exchange is open to anyone who has been touched by infertiliy/miscarriage/infant loss, be it you're currently in treatment, preparing for treatment, recently diagnosed, pregnant after IF/loss, parenting after adoption/IF/loss, pursing adoption, or are living your life to the fullest after infertility/loss. 

2) Once you've received your recipient's names, please contact them within 24 hrs. Recipients, please response within 24 hrs too. This is incredibly important so that everyone has all the necessary information. For those who will be difficult to contact, please leave an additional comment with your contact information. I will not publish it, but it will help with making the connections.

3) Socks do NOT need to be handmade. Again, when I originally started doing this, I did it because I'm a crazy knitter who in addition to wanting to give something that was handmade also uses knitting as a form of therapy. Please do not feel that you need to learn to knit, crotchet or sew in order to participate. And there are some amazing sock stores out there.

4) If you can no longer participate in the exchange, please contact me immediately. Yes, life happens and unseen circumstances can require you to focus your energy elsewhere. (Trust me, I get it.) But please don't leave your recipient hanging. I'm more than happy to reassign, as long as I'm aware that you can no longer participate.

Deadline for participation is Monday January 7th. I'll post a reminder as the deadline comes closer.

The perfect storm: dealing with surprise pregnancy announcements

In 2011, following a diagnosis of unexplained infertility, I joined a Mind/Body course that turned into a support group. The women in this class where at various stages in their journeys ranging from newly diagnosed (that was me) to having undergone and survived a failed round of IVF. After the course finished, the group decided to continue meeting as many were gearing up for their first rounds of IVF and having support from women who understood seemed essential. There were reasons I decided to leave this group. There was the Angie saga, where meetings started to revolve around her continual life drama mingled with her insensitivity when discussing her pregnancy. There was frustration with organizing meetings and keeping things on track. But ultimately what sealed the deal for my exit was a surprise pregnancy announcement. At the time, the group was aware of one member who was completing an IVF cycle and waiting for results. On the heels of her good news that the cycle had been a success, another member dropped the bomb that she and her husband had undergone a FET and had just learned it was successful. Her rational for not telling the group was that she wanted this knowledge cycle to be between herself and her husband.

I struggled a lot with this surprise announcement. Logically I understood where she was coming from and knew that this decision was one that was best for her family. But I also felt betrayed. This was someone I had supported without question during her first round of IVF, cheering for her when she got good news, mourning with her when it became clear that she would miscarry and knitting her socks to help support her as she talked about another round. I should have been happy. Instead I was hurt from the secrecy and from being blind-sided

Recently the IF community received an unexpected announcement. Jay, a veteran IFer who blogs at the 2 week wait turned Infertility Advocate, announced that she unexpectedly pregnant. The response has been rocky.

Full disclosure: Jay is a very good friend. She’s been a source of support, starting online and then moving to real life, throughout my journey through infertility and loss.  She’s given me hope when no one else could; given me a reason try when it seemed impossible. Hence the news of this pregnancy was a joyous one for both Grey and me. Granted, I’m in a very different spot compared to many in this community as I am done expanding my family. All I could feel was joy.

So when I originally saw her post, I was horrified to hear all that was happening and angry that she was being attacked. When we talked, though, Jay made a point to present the viewpoints from the other side, sending me three separate posts written by this announcement and how it was affecting this community. Reading those posts, many themes began to emerge. Themes of how this community deals with surprises and unexpected news, ideas about advocates who are fighting for change and finally questions about the community itself, both who belongs and how we should be reacting to hurt feelings.

What's underlying, though, that no one has addressed, is how we deal with surprising news that can bring about negative feelings.

Truth be told, I don't believe there is any way that Jay could have announced this pregnancy without hurting someone. It was the perfect set up for the beginning. Given that she was told she had a 1% chance of ever becoming pregnant again, I believe that many in this community considered her "safe" from anything like this. Yes, some will argue that the timing of her announcement or how it was done was is poor taste, but what I think the root of the issue is that it was a surprise. Unlike with treatment, where those following are given ample time to prepare for such news, this was totally unexpected. In other words, regardless of how sensitive she made her announcement or when, this news was going to hurt people. It hurts because there wasn't time to steel one's self from the pain of this news; it hurts because there are those who may never get to make such an announcement. 

In addition to this initial shockwave, there's also the commentary on community response. Some firmly believe that Jay should be supported without question. After all, this news does not impact her work as an advocate and if nothing else it is a major win for the community. Others, though, feel that hurt feelings need to be addressed. Already, I've seen calls both for Jay to apologize, not to apologize and even condemnation for "good intentions not being good enough." All the while, emotions are mixed and people seem to be spinning out of control. 

What needs to happen is people need to take a step back. Yes, those who have been hurt should voice it and be allowed to explore why this announcement caused them pain. But wishing harm onto anyone, especially someone who is fighting for this community, is not acceptable. Nor is encouraging hateful speech that perpetuates the idea of the "bitter infertile." In addition, we also need to allow for apologies and accept responsibility for our own roles. To expect everyone who finds themselves unexpected pregnant to have to apologize again and again is beyond ridiculous and, frankly, is a recipe for losing one's self to this disease. 

Tonight, on the eve of a new year, this community once again finds itself at a point of transition. For some, this past year has been a hard one while for others it's been one that has brought healing. My hope is that going into 2015 we can once again find common ground, agreeing that even though there is hurt, there should also be support. 

Redeemed

Nobody can be okay all the time....
~Charlotte Martin. Interview with Musical Discoveries, 2006 

There is music that touches us, changes us in ways we never imagined. That change can either be immediate, either by having us reflect and remember. Affording us a soundtrack for a special moment or event that we will forever remember and will help share our future. And then there's music that inspires; gives us something to strive for. We imagine the day that we will hear this song and all the pieces will be in place.

In 2008, I stumbled upon this song almost by accident. I had recently discovered Charlotte Martin's music and was exploring her work. All while I was in the thick of graduate school and struggling with my own demons. I remember hearing this song and immediately began daydreaming of the day I could listen while embracing the words.

Every tree has got her root
And every girl forbidden fruit
And got her demons

And the path I chose to go
A different girl so long ago
I had my reasons

And she's in my head so loud
And screaming,
“Shouldn't you be proud of what you came from?"

“Oh you've been crippled and you've walked and 
You've been shut up and you talked
So let's talk some more”

(One, two, three
The flashback to get me
On a one, two, four
The threat of the memory)

One of the curses of infertility and loss is that it makes you doubt yourself. While others move on to a milestone seemingly effortlessly, one finds themselves struggling with worthiness and feelings of damnation. Too often I've heard women in this community question whether they deserved to expand their family. That their desires for pregnancy and holding their children were going unfulfilled because they didn't deserve such happiness.

Like so many, I questioned myself and my motives. There were times I felt guilty and selfish with my quest. But the more I dug to explore my grief, the more I realized that this feeling of guilt and selfishness, of unworthiness, expanded to all aspects of my life. Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I came to the realization that having a baby wouldn't cure me from these feelings. That it would require actually confronting my demons and forgiving myself.

And it's ripping at my heart
Because I'm dodging all the darts
And on a slow train

And then I'll wear it 'til it tatters
And it shatters on the floor
In instant replay

Oh, we're all rotten
And we're pure
And we're just looking for the cure
That feels like spring snow

And all we have is who we are
And where we been got us this far
So let me go

A few days ago, following a night of reflection with Grey about pain, I found myself humming this song. Reciting the lyrics in my head, I found myself for the first time feeling that they felt true. Despite surviving graduate school, multiple rounds of fertility treatments and the loss of our potential children. Despite achieving a pregnancy that resulted in our beautiful Beats. And despite recent rounds of rejection in career and uncertainty about the future. Going through all that hasn't made me whole. 

What has helped me get there has been a journey of self reflection and self forgiveness. A journey of self acceptance, wrinkles, flaws and all. With a final realization that though it's not perfect, and though the pain is still very real, it's finally okay.

Where is the hand
For me to reach?
Where is the moral
I'll never teach myself?
In all the black
In all the grief
Through all the pain
And unbelief
These are the words
That they all scream
I am redeemed

2014 has been a year of healing and resolution for me. This journey is far from over and there is still much to learn and overcome. But this year, for the first time in a very long time, I've found a reason to stop and reflect. To recognize not only how much has changed, but my role in bringing that about. And that is something to be proud of.

~Redeemed, by Charlotte Martin

#MicroblogMondays: 36yrs2d

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

Saturday I marked my 36th year on this planet. Normally, as I hate any celebration (and being the center of attention), I pass this day by hiding out or finding some way to distract others around me. Usually without much success. 

This year, I decided to enlist help from others and turn the day into a playdate. We spent 3 hours drinking wine/beer and watching the Beats and their classmates run around our living room. By 6 pm, it was clear all the kids were throughly exhausted but a good time was had by all.

Not a bad way to start off another year.

#MicroblogMondays: Transition

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

Last night as Grey and I were preparing for bed, I found myself looking in the mirror. As I reached down to touch my stomach, memories of injections and emotions from 2 years ago came flooding back. As I gasped, I found the tears aren't far behind.

Laying in bed, Grey and I talk about pain. Right now, with all that is happening and the lack of certainty, we are in the thick of life pain. Pain that brings anger and exhaustion. Pain that many can easily understand. How different this pain is from the pain of infertility. The pain from continual grief and loss of a life dreamed. A gray pain that many fear and so few understand.

In the darkness, we both reflect and confess how awful the grayness was. That even though there are moments now that are hard, there are still many moments of joy that allow you to forget. How with the grayness there was no forgetting, even when you were striving for life. That the only way to overcome the grayness was to go through it and find a path out.

It's been 2 years since the needles, the anxiety and the fear. 2 years since we did our final round of treatment. And it's only now that the pain of healing is starting to subside. That I can truly look back and recognize how insanely awful being in the trenches was. Resolution is truly a journey. And the transition has only begun.

Giving back

* Disclaimer time. This post is about breast pump recycling. This post is NOT about choices regarding how one feeds one's child(ren). Everyone who is parenting or caring for a child or children will be faced with determining how best to feed them. This may be breastfeeding, formula feeding or pumping to express breastmilk. This may involve using baby-led weaning or using purees. This may involve using only organic foods, locally grown or not. Etc., etc., etc. The point is not how you choose to feed, but the fact that you are feeding your child, making sure they have access to nutrients required for health and growth. 

On August 15, 2014, I pumped breastmilk for the Beats for the very last time. A month earlier, due to HMFD, they had both weaned themselves and I was left pumping to fulfill their need for milk. Following their first birthday and on the heels of their transition to the toddler room, if was clear it was time to start transitioning them to cow's milk. And with that transition can the clear signal that it was time to hung up the pump.

Since August, my breast pump has lived in a box with me wondering what to do with it. Some suggested selling it, but seeing as the portable pumps are meant to for a single user it didn't seem like a good option. That and they only place I had seen pumps listed was Craig's list, which seemed a bit sketchie. The other option was simply tossing it into the garbage, but it seemed like such a waste.

Finally today, it dawned on me that I'm unlikely to be the only person facing this dilemma, I contacted the company that manufactured my pump to enlist their help.

Rather recently, breast pump recycling has become an option. Companies like Hygea pioneered the idea of recycling with their "No pumps in dumps" campaign. More recently, Medela has also started a pump recycling program, collaborating with the Ronald McDonald House Charities to support the donation of breast pumps to mothers staying with them while their babies are in NICU. Granted, they only want the pump unit, leaving the owner with trying to figure out how to recycle tubing and other parts. But the idea of supporting a charity that is helping new mothers with babies in NICU is very appealing.

Tonight I printed off a label to return my pump to Medela. Tomorrow I will be dropping off a box at my local post office so that this pump can return to Illinois. The tote that housed this pump will be donated to the local LLL, for someone who is in need of a travel case.

As I unpackaged the pump unit from the tote and prepared it for shipping, I had flashbacks to those 2 am pump sessions when I would drift in and out of sleep while extracting milk. Of having to tote the pump with me to work daily, sneaking away every 3 hours to drain. All of it was exhausting, but I also knew my efforts were feeding the Beats and those 30 min sessions did provide me with some cherished alone time.

Farewell my dearest breast pump. Your tubes and wires will not be forgotten.