When R and I planned our honeymoon, 10 years ago, we chose a location that had everything we wanted: golf, tennis, skeet shooting (we didn't seek this out, but thought it might be fun to try), hiking, beach time with all the water sports and spa treatments. We wanted active yet serene. We wanted casual but elegant. We were so excited by our choice.
Less than 2 weeks before our wedding, the eye of a hurricane went through our resort and blew it pretty much off the map. When our travel agent called us and said, "Your resort is completely destroyed. How do you feel about Jamaica instead?" We both responded the same way, "Jamaica sounds great" We really didn't care where we went, as long as we were together. But we promised ourselves we would go to our original honeymoon resort at our 5 year anniversary. As 5 years approached, we postponed our plans because I was pregnant with Hannah, Ryan and Abby. 10 years. We decided we would go at 10 years.
Our ten year anniversary is October 31. We will take the kids out to trick or treat, then drop them off at my folks because on November 1st, at the crack of dawn, we will board a flight to our honeymoon resort.
I'm excited. We plan to play tennis, scuba dive, lounge out on the beach, relax and unwind. We will play all day and dress up for a nice dinner at night. We will go to bed early. Or not. It won't matter because we can sleep in, if we choose too. Although I will miss the kids dearly, I know that this is a much needed vacation for R and me. It will be our first "couple" vacation since before we conceived Joey-over 4 years ago. Our last "couple" vacation, although wonderful, was wedged between our grief over Hannah, Ryan and Abby and our anxiety over whether or not we would bring children into our lives.
The timing of this vacation isn't lost on either of us~yes, it's our 10 year wedding anniversary, but we depart on Saturday, 5 years to the day of our Memorial Service for Hannah, Ryan and Abby. It also comes just a short time after we made the final decision to donate our embryos for training purposes, therefore ending our fertility journey.
But rather than feeling sad about the timing, R and I both feel as if this vacation signifies a new beginning for us, as if we are walking through some imaginary door to another side of our life together and when we return, we will be ready to start living that life.
Corney? Perhaps. But I am ready...
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Letting Go...
I was never an "Internet" person. I used it as a tool-a way to find directions or information for things I needed. I didn't understand the allure of chat rooms and message boards~honestly, for the longest time I didn't even know they existed...
Then when my pregnancy with Hannah, Ryan and Abby developed complications I found and joined The Triplet Connection. After they died, someone referred me to another site for "Loss Moms". On November 27, 2003 I paid a nominal fee for an upgraded membership and officially joined the online community. Every day, for weeks and months, I would log on and spend time pouring out my soul to women who understood my pain. After a few months, I began responding to newer loss moms and their posts. Eventually, I realized the site was comprehensive, and I found a board for "Trying to Conceive After the Loss of an Infant/Child". When I became pregnant, I moved onto the "Pregnancy after Loss of an Infant/Child" and when that pregnancy became complicated, I posted on the "High Risk Pregnancy" board. This site has everything and so it was easy to find a place to post about what was happening in my life and to read about what was happening with other people and their lives. Although I don't frequent the site as often as I did in the early days, I still log on often.
This summer, I spent most of my time at the shore. I didn't have computer access so while the kids napped, instead of "logging on" I did my chores then sat and read for a while. On the days I was home, I caught up on email, wrote a little here (on my blog) and caught up with friends, but I didn't spend much time on the support site. I was surprised when I realized that I didn't miss it. I was more surprised when I realized that I felt better and stronger than I have in a long time and I think some of that has to do with not being involved in the site.
From my grief/recovery experience, I have a new respect for the Internet and a new appreciation for chat rooms and messages boards. They clearly helped me through the darkest days of my life. However, I think it's time for me to say goodbye to the site. This year, when November 27 rolls around, instead of renewing my membership, I plan to let it expire.
Even though I'm a little nervous to let go, I know in my heart that I'm going to be okay and that's a very peaceful feeling.
Then when my pregnancy with Hannah, Ryan and Abby developed complications I found and joined The Triplet Connection. After they died, someone referred me to another site for "Loss Moms". On November 27, 2003 I paid a nominal fee for an upgraded membership and officially joined the online community. Every day, for weeks and months, I would log on and spend time pouring out my soul to women who understood my pain. After a few months, I began responding to newer loss moms and their posts. Eventually, I realized the site was comprehensive, and I found a board for "Trying to Conceive After the Loss of an Infant/Child". When I became pregnant, I moved onto the "Pregnancy after Loss of an Infant/Child" and when that pregnancy became complicated, I posted on the "High Risk Pregnancy" board. This site has everything and so it was easy to find a place to post about what was happening in my life and to read about what was happening with other people and their lives. Although I don't frequent the site as often as I did in the early days, I still log on often.
This summer, I spent most of my time at the shore. I didn't have computer access so while the kids napped, instead of "logging on" I did my chores then sat and read for a while. On the days I was home, I caught up on email, wrote a little here (on my blog) and caught up with friends, but I didn't spend much time on the support site. I was surprised when I realized that I didn't miss it. I was more surprised when I realized that I felt better and stronger than I have in a long time and I think some of that has to do with not being involved in the site.
From my grief/recovery experience, I have a new respect for the Internet and a new appreciation for chat rooms and messages boards. They clearly helped me through the darkest days of my life. However, I think it's time for me to say goodbye to the site. This year, when November 27 rolls around, instead of renewing my membership, I plan to let it expire.
Even though I'm a little nervous to let go, I know in my heart that I'm going to be okay and that's a very peaceful feeling.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Made My Decsion
This morning, I had an appointment with my OB/GYN because I have had a chronic problem (nothing serious) on and off for years but all it takes is a medication and it usually clears right up. This time, I asked the doctor if we should probe further to figure out why I keep having this problem instead of just writing the prescription to clear it up. This was something I never really thought to ask about before, probably because I was too busy being pregnant or post-partum and had many other things on my mind.
She surprised me by saying that it's very common for women in infertility treatments, pregnancy, post-partum or for women who are nursing to have my problem and once those elements are removed, after a course of medication, the condition usually doesn't return. She also added that all the stress that I was under throughout the all these processes probably exasperated my problem. Now that my body is more regular, I will probably be fine.
Later today, I talked with the RE from my clinic. I asked all kinds of questions with the hope that the answers would bring me clarity and comfort with the decision I need to make regarding my embryos. As the conversation was coming to a close, he asked if I wanted to make an established patient consultation to go over all the odds, percentages and options available to us. He said he would transfer me to the front desk for an appointment. I hesitated a little too long and he finally said to me "April, I can't tell you what to do-this is a decision only you and R can make. However, at some point you need to think about your physical health and emotional well-being..."
Today I spoke with two doctors that have my utmost respect and both of them, in subtle ways, confirmed what I know to be true: I am better off closing the door on my infertility journey. And so, today I checked the box "Donate to research and training" and I put the letter in the mail.
I feel sad in many ways. How could I not? But, honestly, I am also relieved. I am no longer ready to move forward. I am moving forward.
======
Later that night, I had a complete meltdown. I couldn't stop thinking that I've made a terrible mistake, that I'm not done having children, that I would use all of the embryos with the hopes of having one or two more children. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and have R put his arm around me and hold me while I cried. Unfortunately, R was traveling that day so all he could do was listen to me over the phone.
The next morning, I was still wondering if I'd made a grave mistake. I even thought about calling the clinic to see if they would rip up the form and bill me for another year of storage, instead. But, I didn't do this.
Now, almost 5 days later, I still feel sad, but I know that it will fade. It does make me feel better knowing that my embryos will be used for training-that the embryologists will study them and learn how to find and test different chromosomes. I'm holding onto the belief that my embryos will help save a family from having a child with T-18 or some other chromosomal factor that is incompatible with life.
She surprised me by saying that it's very common for women in infertility treatments, pregnancy, post-partum or for women who are nursing to have my problem and once those elements are removed, after a course of medication, the condition usually doesn't return. She also added that all the stress that I was under throughout the all these processes probably exasperated my problem. Now that my body is more regular, I will probably be fine.
Later today, I talked with the RE from my clinic. I asked all kinds of questions with the hope that the answers would bring me clarity and comfort with the decision I need to make regarding my embryos. As the conversation was coming to a close, he asked if I wanted to make an established patient consultation to go over all the odds, percentages and options available to us. He said he would transfer me to the front desk for an appointment. I hesitated a little too long and he finally said to me "April, I can't tell you what to do-this is a decision only you and R can make. However, at some point you need to think about your physical health and emotional well-being..."
Today I spoke with two doctors that have my utmost respect and both of them, in subtle ways, confirmed what I know to be true: I am better off closing the door on my infertility journey. And so, today I checked the box "Donate to research and training" and I put the letter in the mail.
I feel sad in many ways. How could I not? But, honestly, I am also relieved. I am no longer ready to move forward. I am moving forward.
======
Later that night, I had a complete meltdown. I couldn't stop thinking that I've made a terrible mistake, that I'm not done having children, that I would use all of the embryos with the hopes of having one or two more children. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and have R put his arm around me and hold me while I cried. Unfortunately, R was traveling that day so all he could do was listen to me over the phone.
The next morning, I was still wondering if I'd made a grave mistake. I even thought about calling the clinic to see if they would rip up the form and bill me for another year of storage, instead. But, I didn't do this.
Now, almost 5 days later, I still feel sad, but I know that it will fade. It does make me feel better knowing that my embryos will be used for training-that the embryologists will study them and learn how to find and test different chromosomes. I'm holding onto the belief that my embryos will help save a family from having a child with T-18 or some other chromosomal factor that is incompatible with life.
Monday, August 18, 2008
What To Do?
It came today-the letter from my infertility clinic telling me that I have until September 8, 2008 to decide what I want to do with my frozen embryos. I have 4 choices:
1) Keep them frozen
2) Donate to an infertile couple
3) Donate to the clinic for research and training
4) Destroy
When we started this journey, R and I discussed what we would do if we had embryos left. Together, we decided we would donate them to research and training with the hopes that our embryos would, in some way, help someone else. Of course, at that time the embryos we were talking about were purely hypothetical. Now they are real and each one is a biological blend of R and me that could potentially become a person and could carry with him or her all the promise that new life brings.
However, I know we can not use these embryos. If there was one, perhaps 2, maybe I would consider a frozen embryo transfer (FET) but there isn't one or two, there are 7. Knowing I would never transfer more than one embryo again would mean we have 7 more FET attempts ahead of us. I get overwhelmed just thinking about all the hormone treatments, ultrasounds, blood work, driving to and from the clinic, and stress that the process brings. I can't even imagine what that would do to us as a family or to me as a woman, wife and mother. I've done it 9 times. I don't want to do it anymore.
So I read my choices again and think about each one.
Keep Them Frozen: Storing them, when I know we will never use them, isn't a good idea, financially or emotionally. It just prolongs the decision for another year and prevents me from truly closing the door and moving forward with my life.
Donate to an Infertility Couple: I so wish I were the kind of person who could donate my embryos to another couple, but I am not. The thought of my biological children and biological siblings of Hannah, Ryan, Abby, Joey and Laura, in this world but not knowing them-it would make me crazy. I would wonder who they are, who they look like, how their life is. It's just not something I can do.
Destroy Them: Destroying them seems like such a waste, not only of human potential, but of the potential to indirectly help other people through the knowledge that may be gleaned through research and training. Destroying them is not an option for me.
That leaves Donating to Research and Training. In my heart, I know that if I'm not going to transfer them that this is the right option for me.
So, why then, didn't I just check the Donate To Research and Training box and mail the letter back? Why did I pick up the phone and call the clinic to find out the exact quality of these embryos? Why can't I stop thinking about them in terms of the potential life that each one of them has? I know I don't want to go through it all again and I'm not even sure I want more children, but I'm not sure I'm ready to let them go, either.
1) Keep them frozen
2) Donate to an infertile couple
3) Donate to the clinic for research and training
4) Destroy
When we started this journey, R and I discussed what we would do if we had embryos left. Together, we decided we would donate them to research and training with the hopes that our embryos would, in some way, help someone else. Of course, at that time the embryos we were talking about were purely hypothetical. Now they are real and each one is a biological blend of R and me that could potentially become a person and could carry with him or her all the promise that new life brings.
However, I know we can not use these embryos. If there was one, perhaps 2, maybe I would consider a frozen embryo transfer (FET) but there isn't one or two, there are 7. Knowing I would never transfer more than one embryo again would mean we have 7 more FET attempts ahead of us. I get overwhelmed just thinking about all the hormone treatments, ultrasounds, blood work, driving to and from the clinic, and stress that the process brings. I can't even imagine what that would do to us as a family or to me as a woman, wife and mother. I've done it 9 times. I don't want to do it anymore.
So I read my choices again and think about each one.
Keep Them Frozen: Storing them, when I know we will never use them, isn't a good idea, financially or emotionally. It just prolongs the decision for another year and prevents me from truly closing the door and moving forward with my life.
Donate to an Infertility Couple: I so wish I were the kind of person who could donate my embryos to another couple, but I am not. The thought of my biological children and biological siblings of Hannah, Ryan, Abby, Joey and Laura, in this world but not knowing them-it would make me crazy. I would wonder who they are, who they look like, how their life is. It's just not something I can do.
Destroy Them: Destroying them seems like such a waste, not only of human potential, but of the potential to indirectly help other people through the knowledge that may be gleaned through research and training. Destroying them is not an option for me.
That leaves Donating to Research and Training. In my heart, I know that if I'm not going to transfer them that this is the right option for me.
So, why then, didn't I just check the Donate To Research and Training box and mail the letter back? Why did I pick up the phone and call the clinic to find out the exact quality of these embryos? Why can't I stop thinking about them in terms of the potential life that each one of them has? I know I don't want to go through it all again and I'm not even sure I want more children, but I'm not sure I'm ready to let them go, either.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
I Don't Want To, Again. I Don't Think...
Because of infertility treatments, pregnancy and nursing, it has been over 2 years since I've had a period and I must say, it's been really nice. I'm very slowly weaning Laura from nursing and since I know I'll never nurse again, I haven't been in any big hurry to stop.
This morning, I got my period. Of course, I knew this could happen and, frankly, I'm a bit surprised it hasn't come earlier, but I was still taken aback a little. It's not that I'm menstruating that threw me off-it's that my body is ovulating again. This means that if I wanted to, I could go back into infertility treatments to try again.
I don't want to get pregnant again. Trying to getting pregnant and being pregnant are too complicated, time consuming and emotionally and financially taxing. Although it would be temporary, I know the stress of another pregnancy would impair my ability to parent Joey and Laura the way I want and it would cause a lot of tension for me and my marriage.
While pregnant with Hannah, Ryan and Abby, I loved the idea of life growing inside me and I know the joy radiated throughout me. With Joey, some of that spark was dimmed, but even through the stress I was still able to marvel and cherish the miracle of it all. However, with Laura's pregnancy, I was so stressed out that I found it too difficult to embrace anything. The pregnancy just felt really long and it was emotionally draining. All I wanted was to speed up time so the pregnancy part would end and I could enjoy my baby. My experiences have stripped me of the ability to take pleasure in the miracle of pregnancy.
And, there are other reasons I don't want to get pregnant again. I'm now almost 40 and my energy level and need for sleep are much different than they were at almost 30. We're at a good place in our life, we've settled into a comfortable routine, met a lot of great friends and we have a nice balance of family time, me time and couple time. Overall, our life is really good. It's easy, it's fun and I'm happy.
So, why then was I so rocked this morning when I realized my body could get pregnant again? I'd like to say it's all hormonal but I don't know that it is. Certainly I'm not going to do anything with this knowledge but it still has me feeling a little unsettled. A little unsure. A little confused...
This morning, I got my period. Of course, I knew this could happen and, frankly, I'm a bit surprised it hasn't come earlier, but I was still taken aback a little. It's not that I'm menstruating that threw me off-it's that my body is ovulating again. This means that if I wanted to, I could go back into infertility treatments to try again.
I don't want to get pregnant again. Trying to getting pregnant and being pregnant are too complicated, time consuming and emotionally and financially taxing. Although it would be temporary, I know the stress of another pregnancy would impair my ability to parent Joey and Laura the way I want and it would cause a lot of tension for me and my marriage.
While pregnant with Hannah, Ryan and Abby, I loved the idea of life growing inside me and I know the joy radiated throughout me. With Joey, some of that spark was dimmed, but even through the stress I was still able to marvel and cherish the miracle of it all. However, with Laura's pregnancy, I was so stressed out that I found it too difficult to embrace anything. The pregnancy just felt really long and it was emotionally draining. All I wanted was to speed up time so the pregnancy part would end and I could enjoy my baby. My experiences have stripped me of the ability to take pleasure in the miracle of pregnancy.
And, there are other reasons I don't want to get pregnant again. I'm now almost 40 and my energy level and need for sleep are much different than they were at almost 30. We're at a good place in our life, we've settled into a comfortable routine, met a lot of great friends and we have a nice balance of family time, me time and couple time. Overall, our life is really good. It's easy, it's fun and I'm happy.
So, why then was I so rocked this morning when I realized my body could get pregnant again? I'd like to say it's all hormonal but I don't know that it is. Certainly I'm not going to do anything with this knowledge but it still has me feeling a little unsettled. A little unsure. A little confused...
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Getting A Taste of the Teen Years...
My sister is in the middle of a very long, drawn out and nasty divorce from a man who is controlling and verbally abusive. I admire her for making the very difficult decision to leave him and since she filed (over 2 years ago) I've watched her transform from an empty shell of a woman under his control into the confident, fun loving and happy person that I know is my sister.
Am has 4 children-girl, boy, girl, boy. My oldest niece is 13 years old and on top of the normal angst that comes from the early teen years, she is angry with her parents and she is confused about where to put her trust. My sister has tried to talk to her about puberty, sex, drugs, alcohol and smoking, but hasn't felt like she's made any progress so asked me if I would give it a shot...
Um. Yeah. Sure. Okay. Me? Really?
So, this past week, Chloe and I went for a walk. Big Breath. Another Big Breath. And before I knew it, I was into my first ever "parent-child" heavy duty conversation. I wanted to see if I could gauge how much my niece actually knows about the topic of sex, so I asked her questions, which she answered much more candidly than I expected. We talked about menstruation, shaving, pregnancy and sex. We talked about respecting your own body and about what to do if someone does something, anything, that makes you feel uncomfortable. We talked about appropriate and inappropriate behavior and we talked about dating.
She asked questions, I gave answers. I asked questions, she gave answers. It was an actual conversation. A back and forth exchange. I ended it by telling her the reason I wanted to talk to her was because I know she is struggling with her relationship with her folks and might not feel comfortable talking to them right now. I told her I love her and I know this is a difficult time in her life. I want her to know that she can come talk to me if she has questions, concerns, things she doesn't understand or know how to deal with. When the conversation was over, she hugged me and said "Thank you, Aunt April"
And then it was over. She bounced away as if we had just been talking about something as mundane as the weather. I strolled back into the house thinking about our talk and wondering how much of it she will mull over, later. Overall, I think it was a good experience for both of us and I'm glad I was able to talk to her. However, I am thankful that I have many years before I need to face this discussion with my own children. When that time comes, maybe, just maybe, my niece will be old enough to do it for me...(just kidding~kind of).
Am has 4 children-girl, boy, girl, boy. My oldest niece is 13 years old and on top of the normal angst that comes from the early teen years, she is angry with her parents and she is confused about where to put her trust. My sister has tried to talk to her about puberty, sex, drugs, alcohol and smoking, but hasn't felt like she's made any progress so asked me if I would give it a shot...
Um. Yeah. Sure. Okay. Me? Really?
So, this past week, Chloe and I went for a walk. Big Breath. Another Big Breath. And before I knew it, I was into my first ever "parent-child" heavy duty conversation. I wanted to see if I could gauge how much my niece actually knows about the topic of sex, so I asked her questions, which she answered much more candidly than I expected. We talked about menstruation, shaving, pregnancy and sex. We talked about respecting your own body and about what to do if someone does something, anything, that makes you feel uncomfortable. We talked about appropriate and inappropriate behavior and we talked about dating.
She asked questions, I gave answers. I asked questions, she gave answers. It was an actual conversation. A back and forth exchange. I ended it by telling her the reason I wanted to talk to her was because I know she is struggling with her relationship with her folks and might not feel comfortable talking to them right now. I told her I love her and I know this is a difficult time in her life. I want her to know that she can come talk to me if she has questions, concerns, things she doesn't understand or know how to deal with. When the conversation was over, she hugged me and said "Thank you, Aunt April"
And then it was over. She bounced away as if we had just been talking about something as mundane as the weather. I strolled back into the house thinking about our talk and wondering how much of it she will mull over, later. Overall, I think it was a good experience for both of us and I'm glad I was able to talk to her. However, I am thankful that I have many years before I need to face this discussion with my own children. When that time comes, maybe, just maybe, my niece will be old enough to do it for me...(just kidding~kind of).
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
I Miss The Crib!!
Yesterday was day 2 of the big boy bed.
I put Joey down for nap/quiet time (he's transitioning out of the nap but still needs down time/quiet time) and I heard him chatting away for a while then it got quiet, so I went downstairs to straighten up and have some of my own quiet time.
Later, I went back upstairs and heard him chatting again so I decided to get him "up". I opened the door and there he was, sitting on his bed, blissfully playing-his entire room was covered in tissues/tissue bits he had ripped up. Upon hearing the door open, he looked at me and said, with utter joy, "Look Mom, I made a tissue world"
I want the crib back.
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