Someone once described relationships (familial, romantic, and friendly) as a bank account. Sometimes you make a lot of deposits (giving ample time, attention, and care to others) and sometimes you make a lot of withdrawals (leaning on those close to you). I've always considered myself someone who really tried to make more deposits than withdrawals. Or at least made it 50/50.
But, since LF was born, I know I have been withdrawing A LOT. More than during periods of anxiety or depression. More than during infertility treatment. I've been relying on those close to me for support and understanding more than I ever have. While I was in the thick of the newborn stage, I didn't really think about this too much. I was consumed with day-to-day survival. Everything else, even basic showering and eating needs, took a back burner.
Now that LF is 6 months old, and I can function at about 75% of what my pre-baby capacity was, this has been on my mind a lot. I've noticed changes in many of my friendships. Some obvious, some subtle. But mostly, I'm feeling some distance from many of my friends. There aren't as many phone calls. There aren't as many visits. There aren't as many texts. Lately, it's been making me feel pretty sad. It is as though I made too many withdrawals in the early days of LF's arrival.
I mean, some of this is normal. We all have busy lives (with or without children) and as we age our jobs and personal lives get more and more demanding. It's also incredibly difficult for KG and I to do spontaneous things these days. Everything runs on baby standard time, and last minute cancellations are pretty common due to illness, etc. Some friends are wonderfully understanding about this. They roll with it, and know that it usually evens out in the end, because many of them are in the same boat.
However, some friends have a hard time understanding that it isn't as easy as, "Just take the baby with you!"
There are naps and feedings to consider, as well as certain times of day that bring out the best and worst in LF. Additionally, with LF's reflux, feeding him outside of our home was a nightmare for a long time, and I'm still carrying some scars from that. (We are just trying out a day trip with the baby this weekend for the first time and its stressing me out already.) I know some babies can sleep anywhere at anytime, but LF is not that baby. He will knock out in the stroller or carseat sometimes, but not reliably. We want to encourage him to be flexible, and we do try to sleep him in various places (bringing the pack n' play to friends' homes, etc.) but it doesn't always work, and then we have a very fussy baby on our hands and the overnights suffer as well. The trade-offs are sometimes worth it, but sometimes not.
The longer I am LF's mother, the longer I feel like he was made this way. Even as a newborn, he had really specific, and lets' face it: high maintenance, needs we had to meet in any way we can. He is who he is, and our job is to do what is best for him, at all times. It seems selfish to make my baby upset or uncomfortable because I want to drink wine with my girlfriends.
The hard part is the judgement I perceive when we have to say no to things, especially evening events that conflict with bedtime. I feel like sometimes we, LF's parents, are seen as the problem. That somehow we made him into a baby that has difficulty with feedings, sleeping, etc. That somehow if we were more "this" or more "that" then we would have made an incredibly easy infant that we could tote along at any time. KG recently articulated it really well. He said, "LF isn't a piece of luggage we can bring wherever and whenever we want. He's a person." He's also a person who can't yet speak for himself. He relies on us to intuitively make decisions we feel would make him the most comfortable.
But the other side of that coin is that it has been a long time between visits with some people close to us, and I'm sure they get as frustrated by that as we do.
I think it is probably time for me to start making more deposits into those relationships. Lately I've been reaching out more to friends to visit and spend time together, with and without LF. KG is often willing to hang with the baby while I hang out with a friend. We've gotten a sitter, and taken advantage of my mother's help, to have a dinner out here and there. We're even taking a trip to NJ to see some friends in a couple of weeks. Our first trip with LF!
Socially, we're slowly starting to make our way back into the land of the living.
I just hope we aren't overdrawn.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Monday, July 1, 2013
Friday, August 31, 2012
Crossing Over
As a part of my work as a teacher, we are required to do professional development several times a year. These workshops vary in content and quality. Sometimes they are technology workshops about how to better utilize Smartboards or software. Lately, there have been several related to curriculum design, mostly focusing on STEM/STEAM. My favorites though focus on inclusiveness and diversity in education. Yesterday, we did a three-hour workshop on majority and minority groups, exploring what it feels like to be in both.
During the workshop, we all (about 60 of us) stood on one side of the room. Then, as a scenario was posed, you crossed the room to the empty side, if the scenario applied to you. Some of them were innocuous, such as "Cross over if you grew up outside of New England." Once you got to the other side, you could choose to give more information about your crossing, or not.
This sounds simple, but it was really emotionally challenging at times. The feeling of standing on the side of the room with fewer or no other people with you was really outside my comfort zone. As we worked through the scenarios, they got more and more personal. Some other interesting ones posed were things like, "Cross if you:
- have been the only one of your culture or race within a workplace
- have ever been targeted by police simply because of who you are
- have ever felt targeted by a stranger because of who you are
- have felt embarrassed to tell people whether you went to college or where you attended
- lost a job opportunity because of something about your background
- have suffered from a life-threatening disease or injury
- are adopted
- been a single parent
- married to someone of another culture or race"
Then it got really interesting. The facilitator asked:
- "Cross over if you have ever had feelings of discrimination or discomfort around the question of why you don't have children, or your plans to do so."
I thought about whether to cross the room for a few seconds. As I quickly had to make the decision whether to "come out" to my colleagues, my inner voice became clear. I had to do it. I had to be honest with myself and stop hiding, even if I had to do it by myself. It was a little scary, but I've learned from personal experience that exposing myself in this way can often open a door to incredible conversation with someone else, who might also be struggling. So, I forced my feet to move into the empty space, with lots and lots of eyes on me. Luckily, as I glanced up, those eyes were full of warmth, support, and a little bit of shock.
Then, I got lucky. Within my school, I'm close with three other women who are either currently or have gone through infertility treatment in the past. One is pregnant, due a month after me (after seeing my RE!) and two are still in treatment. The other woman who is pregnant smiled at me, and then crossed over to stand at my side. The other two still TTC stayed where they were.
A second later, another co-worker came to stand near us, one I hadn't expected. This woman is a teacher I have worked with for several years, and over last year became quite unpredictable with some angry outbursts and general aggression. It suddenly dawned on me why there had been such a change in her personality.
All three of us took the opportunity to speak about why we crossed over. I said that I crossed over because it took us a lot of effort to attain this pregnancy, after years of being asked when I would have children. I spoke to the pain of people assuming that if you are young and married, that children are an assumed inevitability. My pregnant friend spoke to not only how difficult it was to watch co-workers get pregnant while she was still struggling, but also the guilt of currently being pregnant, knowing people close to you are still struggling. We both ended with how strange it feels to be on the other side.
The third woman spoke too. She talked about how she is unable to have children and watching us be pregnant is very painful for her. Instead of being hurt by her words, I felt tremendous empathy for her. How many times have I been in her shoes? How many times did I wish I could say the exact same thing?
After the workshop, I wrote to her and expressed my support. I gave her a bit more background of my situation and offered to speak to her about her process if she ever wanted to or felt comfortable doing so. About 30 seconds after sending my email, she responded in a really appreciative way. We made a date to take a walk after the first week of school and discuss her situation.
If I've learned nothing else from my infertility experience, it's that if you are willing to make yourself vulnerable and exposed to others, the payoff can be huge. Crossing that room may have been hard for me, but maybe it will make her journey just a teeny, tiny bit easier.
During the workshop, we all (about 60 of us) stood on one side of the room. Then, as a scenario was posed, you crossed the room to the empty side, if the scenario applied to you. Some of them were innocuous, such as "Cross over if you grew up outside of New England." Once you got to the other side, you could choose to give more information about your crossing, or not.
This sounds simple, but it was really emotionally challenging at times. The feeling of standing on the side of the room with fewer or no other people with you was really outside my comfort zone. As we worked through the scenarios, they got more and more personal. Some other interesting ones posed were things like, "Cross if you:
- have been the only one of your culture or race within a workplace
- have ever been targeted by police simply because of who you are
- have ever felt targeted by a stranger because of who you are
- have felt embarrassed to tell people whether you went to college or where you attended
- lost a job opportunity because of something about your background
- have suffered from a life-threatening disease or injury
- are adopted
- been a single parent
- married to someone of another culture or race"
Then it got really interesting. The facilitator asked:
- "Cross over if you have ever had feelings of discrimination or discomfort around the question of why you don't have children, or your plans to do so."
I thought about whether to cross the room for a few seconds. As I quickly had to make the decision whether to "come out" to my colleagues, my inner voice became clear. I had to do it. I had to be honest with myself and stop hiding, even if I had to do it by myself. It was a little scary, but I've learned from personal experience that exposing myself in this way can often open a door to incredible conversation with someone else, who might also be struggling. So, I forced my feet to move into the empty space, with lots and lots of eyes on me. Luckily, as I glanced up, those eyes were full of warmth, support, and a little bit of shock.
Then, I got lucky. Within my school, I'm close with three other women who are either currently or have gone through infertility treatment in the past. One is pregnant, due a month after me (after seeing my RE!) and two are still in treatment. The other woman who is pregnant smiled at me, and then crossed over to stand at my side. The other two still TTC stayed where they were.
A second later, another co-worker came to stand near us, one I hadn't expected. This woman is a teacher I have worked with for several years, and over last year became quite unpredictable with some angry outbursts and general aggression. It suddenly dawned on me why there had been such a change in her personality.
All three of us took the opportunity to speak about why we crossed over. I said that I crossed over because it took us a lot of effort to attain this pregnancy, after years of being asked when I would have children. I spoke to the pain of people assuming that if you are young and married, that children are an assumed inevitability. My pregnant friend spoke to not only how difficult it was to watch co-workers get pregnant while she was still struggling, but also the guilt of currently being pregnant, knowing people close to you are still struggling. We both ended with how strange it feels to be on the other side.
The third woman spoke too. She talked about how she is unable to have children and watching us be pregnant is very painful for her. Instead of being hurt by her words, I felt tremendous empathy for her. How many times have I been in her shoes? How many times did I wish I could say the exact same thing?
After the workshop, I wrote to her and expressed my support. I gave her a bit more background of my situation and offered to speak to her about her process if she ever wanted to or felt comfortable doing so. About 30 seconds after sending my email, she responded in a really appreciative way. We made a date to take a walk after the first week of school and discuss her situation.
If I've learned nothing else from my infertility experience, it's that if you are willing to make yourself vulnerable and exposed to others, the payoff can be huge. Crossing that room may have been hard for me, but maybe it will make her journey just a teeny, tiny bit easier.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Thank You
...to everyone who said kind, supportive, and helpful things in the comments to my last post. It really did help and gave me lots to think about. I'm lucky to have so many people care about me and The Nugget.
Those people close to me know that when I get overwhelmed, it tends to all boil over at once. It's just the way I process that kind of stress. To say I had a bad day is kind of an understatement. But, I woke up the next day feeling better and with a clearer mind. All of these things are a work in progress for me, and KG and I just need to continue to breathe and make our way through decisions, one by one.
So, on a happier note: We are heading down to see some friends in New Jersey this weekend, and spend time on the shore. If you have never been to south Jersey, don't judge. It is clean and beautiful, far from the stigma of that MTV crap. It will be wonderful to get away and spend time with people we love dearly.
And, here's the 15 week pic we took after we got home from our anniversary dinner the other night. If you live in the Boston area and haven't been to Hungry Mother (oh, the irony) in Cambridge, we highly recommend it.
Those people close to me know that when I get overwhelmed, it tends to all boil over at once. It's just the way I process that kind of stress. To say I had a bad day is kind of an understatement. But, I woke up the next day feeling better and with a clearer mind. All of these things are a work in progress for me, and KG and I just need to continue to breathe and make our way through decisions, one by one.
So, on a happier note: We are heading down to see some friends in New Jersey this weekend, and spend time on the shore. If you have never been to south Jersey, don't judge. It is clean and beautiful, far from the stigma of that MTV crap. It will be wonderful to get away and spend time with people we love dearly.
And, here's the 15 week pic we took after we got home from our anniversary dinner the other night. If you live in the Boston area and haven't been to Hungry Mother (oh, the irony) in Cambridge, we highly recommend it.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
A morning full of interesting infertility moments
This morning has been full of surprises. I was pretty pissed off when I woke up before 7am. But man, has the day improved!
First, I was perusing the RESOLVE New England website (ok, I was looking to see if my Poker Face blog got any comments) and I went to their advocacy page. I have been considering getting involved with advocacy efforts, and I wanted to see if there were any opportunities to get involved.
Then, when I scrolled down, there was a video of an advocate and board member speaking at the RESOLVE conference in November. I read her name, and then re-read it.
I know her.
I don't want to say too much, but I know her professionally. She is a lovely person. In retrospect, I remember her mentioning how she had difficulty conceiving, but that was years ago, before we were trying to have a baby.
Although I am not out at work, I think I am going to contact her. I am dying to talk to her about her work with RESOLVE. I'm feeling pretty excited!
Second, I got a call from a friend of a friend today. She just had her IVF consult and was feeling overwhelmed. She reached out to me, and we spent a long time on the phone discussing her fears and questions. Basically, I let her know that her cycle would be stressful, but not nearly as hard as she thinks it will be. I hesitated to tell her our outcome, but she asked. So, I tried to stress how rare our failed fertilization was and that most women have a lot of success with IVF, even if it takes more than one cycle.
We ended the call with her telling me how much better she felt. Apparently, hearing my perspective really eased some of her anxiety. I almost cried. What she doesn't know is that in sharing my experience, it helped me as much as it helped her. I am so glad I could help her. It sort of feels like my shitty IVF cycle DID have a purpose after all.
Now if I could get the motivation to get out of my bathrobe and over to Target, the day would be a true success.
First, I was perusing the RESOLVE New England website (ok, I was looking to see if my Poker Face blog got any comments) and I went to their advocacy page. I have been considering getting involved with advocacy efforts, and I wanted to see if there were any opportunities to get involved.
Then, when I scrolled down, there was a video of an advocate and board member speaking at the RESOLVE conference in November. I read her name, and then re-read it.
I know her.
I don't want to say too much, but I know her professionally. She is a lovely person. In retrospect, I remember her mentioning how she had difficulty conceiving, but that was years ago, before we were trying to have a baby.
Although I am not out at work, I think I am going to contact her. I am dying to talk to her about her work with RESOLVE. I'm feeling pretty excited!
Second, I got a call from a friend of a friend today. She just had her IVF consult and was feeling overwhelmed. She reached out to me, and we spent a long time on the phone discussing her fears and questions. Basically, I let her know that her cycle would be stressful, but not nearly as hard as she thinks it will be. I hesitated to tell her our outcome, but she asked. So, I tried to stress how rare our failed fertilization was and that most women have a lot of success with IVF, even if it takes more than one cycle.
We ended the call with her telling me how much better she felt. Apparently, hearing my perspective really eased some of her anxiety. I almost cried. What she doesn't know is that in sharing my experience, it helped me as much as it helped her. I am so glad I could help her. It sort of feels like my shitty IVF cycle DID have a purpose after all.
Now if I could get the motivation to get out of my bathrobe and over to Target, the day would be a true success.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Everything's Coming Up Millhouse
3 particularly nice things have happened in the last 24 hours. In the spirit of being more positive, I thought I would focus on those instead of the things that made me want to put my forehead through the wall.
1. At my blood draw (results to come later this afternoon) and dildocam today, the technician was extra patient (working around gas bubbles and my slow bowels - yup, I said it) and was able to find both my ovaries internally. This calmed some of my fears about them not being able to retrieve from my left side. Nothing measurable yet, but that's to be expected. I stim "low and slow" as they say, so I'll hope for more progress in a few days.
2. I spent last night with two of my closest friends (we'll refer to them as Ginger and Smoon). KG and Ginger's DH were there too, loudly getting drunk and being silly. I have been complaining about not drinking during this IVF cycle to anyone who will listen (don't judge, I'm stressed). Yes, I know it is a stupid thing to be sad about, but it sucks. Ginger very sweetly bought me some alcohol-free champagne (much better than one would think) to drink while the others imbibed. It was a small but really thoughtful gesture of kindness. What can I say, I'm a sap.
3. Smoon is a constant reader of my blog, which already makes me love her even more than I already do. Last night she flattered me. She said that by reading the blog, she can see how far I have come on this journey and that she sees I'm no longer such a newb. I'm more experienced and basically just more at peace than before. It was completely validating and gave me some pride. Big kisses Smoon.
I don't think people realize the power of small acts of kindness like these. When they accumulate, they make you feel like people give a shit about you. That they are listening. That they care. I thank my lucky stars that I have people (IRL and online) that give me this kind of love.
Like I said, focusing on the positive over here.
Song of the day: "Last Leaf" by OK Go. I go to shows quite a bit, and OK Go is one of my favorites to see live. You might remember them from a performance on the MTV Awards a few years back, where they did a choreographed treadmill routine to their song "Here It Goes Again." They are usually a super upbeat, rock out band. But, this is a really tender little ballad. The video is off beat (as they all are from OK Go) but watch anyway.
"If you should be the last autumn leaf hanging from the tree
I'll still be here waiting on the breeze to bring you down to me
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be
And if you should be the last seed in spring to venture out a leaf
I'll still be here waiting on the rain to warm your heart for me
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be"
Edited to add: Check out this video too: SO CREATIVE.
1. At my blood draw (results to come later this afternoon) and dildocam today, the technician was extra patient (working around gas bubbles and my slow bowels - yup, I said it) and was able to find both my ovaries internally. This calmed some of my fears about them not being able to retrieve from my left side. Nothing measurable yet, but that's to be expected. I stim "low and slow" as they say, so I'll hope for more progress in a few days.
2. I spent last night with two of my closest friends (we'll refer to them as Ginger and Smoon). KG and Ginger's DH were there too, loudly getting drunk and being silly. I have been complaining about not drinking during this IVF cycle to anyone who will listen (don't judge, I'm stressed). Yes, I know it is a stupid thing to be sad about, but it sucks. Ginger very sweetly bought me some alcohol-free champagne (much better than one would think) to drink while the others imbibed. It was a small but really thoughtful gesture of kindness. What can I say, I'm a sap.
3. Smoon is a constant reader of my blog, which already makes me love her even more than I already do. Last night she flattered me. She said that by reading the blog, she can see how far I have come on this journey and that she sees I'm no longer such a newb. I'm more experienced and basically just more at peace than before. It was completely validating and gave me some pride. Big kisses Smoon.
I don't think people realize the power of small acts of kindness like these. When they accumulate, they make you feel like people give a shit about you. That they are listening. That they care. I thank my lucky stars that I have people (IRL and online) that give me this kind of love.
Like I said, focusing on the positive over here.
Song of the day: "Last Leaf" by OK Go. I go to shows quite a bit, and OK Go is one of my favorites to see live. You might remember them from a performance on the MTV Awards a few years back, where they did a choreographed treadmill routine to their song "Here It Goes Again." They are usually a super upbeat, rock out band. But, this is a really tender little ballad. The video is off beat (as they all are from OK Go) but watch anyway.
"If you should be the last autumn leaf hanging from the tree
I'll still be here waiting on the breeze to bring you down to me
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be
And if you should be the last seed in spring to venture out a leaf
I'll still be here waiting on the rain to warm your heart for me
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be
And if it takes forever, forever it'll be"
Edited to add: Check out this video too: SO CREATIVE.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Getting Lapped
When I was in middle school, I was forced (like most others) to take gym. In high school, I was able to avoid this torture by taking dance classes instead. But, in 7th and 8th grades, I was forced to suffer the humiliation of running laps. Actually, it is more accurate to call it walking laps (aka dragging my ass around the field a couple of times). What I remember most about that experience (other than a sadistic PE teacher screaming at me to hurry up) was watching my friends lap me. In the time it took me to run one lap, they would run two or three. It made me feel so lame, so fat, and so ridiculous. I would just watch them disappear around the track. So. far. ahead.
Fast forward to my current limbo: there is an eerily similar situation happening here. While we are still working on conceiving our first baby, many of our friends are starting to try for their second child. This is completely normal and natural, yet it also a reminder of how little progress we have made in the last two years. We are definitely moving in the right direction with IVF, but still. I am getting that same sinking feeling as I did when I was 14.
As I said to His Royal Fabulousness the other day: I just have to keep reminding myself that this process is not a sprint. It is a marathon. As long as we cross the finish line, it shouldn't matter how long it takes. In the meantime, I'll have to put up with the shin splints.
Fast forward to my current limbo: there is an eerily similar situation happening here. While we are still working on conceiving our first baby, many of our friends are starting to try for their second child. This is completely normal and natural, yet it also a reminder of how little progress we have made in the last two years. We are definitely moving in the right direction with IVF, but still. I am getting that same sinking feeling as I did when I was 14.
As I said to His Royal Fabulousness the other day: I just have to keep reminding myself that this process is not a sprint. It is a marathon. As long as we cross the finish line, it shouldn't matter how long it takes. In the meantime, I'll have to put up with the shin splints.
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