I'm not sure why I did it, but I wasted the last afternoon of my annual vacation torturing myself by watching A_Baby_Story . Today's shows (yes, there were back to back episodes) were both about women who had lived with infertility. The first couple were celebrating their second IVF pregnancy. The first had been triplets, and this one was twins. The second couple was closer to our story ... she had a history of miscarriage.
When the second woman actually gave birth, and then lay there holding her breath until she heard her son's first cry, I was holding my breath right along with her. When they laid that baby boy on her belly, and she touched him for the first time, I received a glimpse of what those of us living with infertility live with during pregnancy. I don't think that woman took a breath until that baby was laid on her belly.
Which makes me wonder how we can ever think that someone who has blogged about infertility is 'off the island' just because she gets pregnant. I can't get 'waiting to exhale' thought out of my head.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Faith
Today is a better day. I have been trying to use up vacation time that I will lose if it's not gone by the end of March, so have been taking a day here...a day there. Mostly using them to sit around in my sweats and do nothing. Today is one of those days. There are torrential downpours outside, making it a particularly good day to do this thing called nothing.
I've been really cruising other blogs of late. The dialogue at Cecily's blog about Christ was particularly inspiring to me, and I am impressed at how we've been able to have a shared discussion on faith without bashing each other. Maybe we're growing up after all eh?
Cecily's post and the comments that followed really have me reflecting on my faith life. HB and I are both very strong christians. Yes, that involves having a formal religious affiliation for us. More importantly, in my opinion, it involves being good people. We both belong to the Cursillo community which encourages us to live lives of piety, study and action. Piety is defined as directing your whole life to God...or goodness. Study means just that - studying. Not so much in the formal sense of the 'read the bible' kind of way, but rather study life. Pray. Discern. Meditate. Be a part of the song! And then there is action. Because to have all of this and do nothing with it is selfish. I don't do many of the 'big' things. I do try to engage in some kind of action outside of myself every day though ... and not in any planned way. I just try to recognize opportunities that are presented to me. I'm always grateful for those folks that do the 'big' things like feeding the hungry at soup kitchens and the like. Right now that doesn't feel like it's my calling. I'm still working on those opportunities in my own environment ~ or as I've heard it called, the everyday market of my own life!
HB is a great formal student. He wakes every morning and spends at least 30 minutes in prayer and study at the kitchen table. People are attracted to him, and he loves people. A man that we both know came to me a few weeks ago to tell me how much he loves being around HB. He said when HB listens, you really know you've been heard, because for the time he's listening to you, you are the only person in his world. What a gift that is for me every day of my life with him.
I, on the other hand, tend to be more of an informal student. I study people. I sit and think a lot. I talk to the God of my understanding ~ I do a lot of that in the car, which I'm sure makes people look at me funny.
It's been said that the distance between a person's head and her heart is as great as the distance between the earth and the surface of the moon. Sometimes that's what I feel like when we get into discussions about faith and Christianity. That I can engage intellectually, but to really open up and share what's in my heart is such a risk.
I hope that someday I can get there. In the meantime, I'm going to keep living my life, trying to be the best person I can be and being kind to others ... not because it's going to get me somewhere but because life is just so much more pleasant when I live it that way.
I've been really cruising other blogs of late. The dialogue at Cecily's blog about Christ was particularly inspiring to me, and I am impressed at how we've been able to have a shared discussion on faith without bashing each other. Maybe we're growing up after all eh?
Cecily's post and the comments that followed really have me reflecting on my faith life. HB and I are both very strong christians. Yes, that involves having a formal religious affiliation for us. More importantly, in my opinion, it involves being good people. We both belong to the Cursillo community which encourages us to live lives of piety, study and action. Piety is defined as directing your whole life to God...or goodness. Study means just that - studying. Not so much in the formal sense of the 'read the bible' kind of way, but rather study life. Pray. Discern. Meditate. Be a part of the song! And then there is action. Because to have all of this and do nothing with it is selfish. I don't do many of the 'big' things. I do try to engage in some kind of action outside of myself every day though ... and not in any planned way. I just try to recognize opportunities that are presented to me. I'm always grateful for those folks that do the 'big' things like feeding the hungry at soup kitchens and the like. Right now that doesn't feel like it's my calling. I'm still working on those opportunities in my own environment ~ or as I've heard it called, the everyday market of my own life!
HB is a great formal student. He wakes every morning and spends at least 30 minutes in prayer and study at the kitchen table. People are attracted to him, and he loves people. A man that we both know came to me a few weeks ago to tell me how much he loves being around HB. He said when HB listens, you really know you've been heard, because for the time he's listening to you, you are the only person in his world. What a gift that is for me every day of my life with him.
I, on the other hand, tend to be more of an informal student. I study people. I sit and think a lot. I talk to the God of my understanding ~ I do a lot of that in the car, which I'm sure makes people look at me funny.
It's been said that the distance between a person's head and her heart is as great as the distance between the earth and the surface of the moon. Sometimes that's what I feel like when we get into discussions about faith and Christianity. That I can engage intellectually, but to really open up and share what's in my heart is such a risk.
I hope that someday I can get there. In the meantime, I'm going to keep living my life, trying to be the best person I can be and being kind to others ... not because it's going to get me somewhere but because life is just so much more pleasant when I live it that way.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Mother Rant
Everything, and I mean E V E R Y T H I N G is either irritating me or making me weep the last few days. I'm guessing it's the clomid, and I'm not sure I'm liking who I'm turning into as a result.
My mother just called. We're going there for Easter dinner in a few hours. They live about an hour away from us, and are both in their mid 70's. Every once in a while I get to feeling very guilty for not spending more time with them because I know there will come a day when I won't have the option of driving up for dinner.
Mom doesn't get my infertility or our desire to have a child. Conversations with Mom about my infertility (always, by the way, started by her), go something like this:
Mom: So, you still on those pills?
Moi: Yep.
Mom: Well, how long are you going to do that?
Moi: Probably until we manage to either get pregnant or move through the full 10 months of the prescription without luck. Whatever comes first.
Mom: Well, I hope you don't have any more miscarriages. It's hard on everyone you know.
Moi: (trying hard to censor all the head voices at this point) Yeah. We're kinda hoping for no more miscarriages too Mom. (duh! ok, one head voice gets out but only in a non-verbal way)
Mom: So you're sure you're not starting your change eh?
Moi: yeah Mom, pretty sure. The doctors say I'm not even close.
Mom: well, I'd have them check again. I started at your age you know.
Moi: well Mom, I've had the tests twice now and they continue to show that I am not peri-menopausal.
Mom: yeah, but do they tell you if you're starting the change?
and then today we move onto the other favourite subject. My weight and my weight loss plans.
Mom: So have you figured out what you're going to be able to eat for dinner yet?
Moi: yes. I have my points all calculated for today.
Mom: guess you won't want this easter bunny I bought for you then.
Moi: (wtf???? who buys their overweight daughter an easter bunny when they know she's just started WW???) (oops....head voice again....) No Mom, but I will give it to the kids for you. Thanks for doing that.
Mom: but you can have the dessert I've made. Your sister says it's only8 points a serving.
Moi: (ok, starting to understand where my freaking weight problem came from here Ma!!!) (oops....frigging head voice...stop!). No Mom, I'm planning to pass on the dessert tonight.
Mom: but you can't do that! It's so good! You'll have to have just one piece. 8 points isn't much1
Moi: (You're hormonal....it's just the hormones talking. You really don't want to shove your mother's face in her dessert bowl now do you???) Thanks Mom, but I'm really planning to pass. I need to get myself a little more in control before I start back with desserts.
Mom: But you know, WW isn't supposed to be a DIET. It's supposed to be a WAY OF LIFE. Desserts are part of LIFE.
I love her dearly but man, I need to get my game face on to deal with her sometimes. Being on these pills is not helping.
On another very sad note, I've been meaning to share this obituary that was in our local paper. I found their website and viewed their before pregnancy pictures of trips and stuff. No one should have to suffer the loss of their child, and I was very touched by the celebration of their son's short life described in the obituary. I'm keeping them in my prayers.
My mother just called. We're going there for Easter dinner in a few hours. They live about an hour away from us, and are both in their mid 70's. Every once in a while I get to feeling very guilty for not spending more time with them because I know there will come a day when I won't have the option of driving up for dinner.
Mom doesn't get my infertility or our desire to have a child. Conversations with Mom about my infertility (always, by the way, started by her), go something like this:
Mom: So, you still on those pills?
Moi: Yep.
Mom: Well, how long are you going to do that?
Moi: Probably until we manage to either get pregnant or move through the full 10 months of the prescription without luck. Whatever comes first.
Mom: Well, I hope you don't have any more miscarriages. It's hard on everyone you know.
Moi: (trying hard to censor all the head voices at this point) Yeah. We're kinda hoping for no more miscarriages too Mom. (duh! ok, one head voice gets out but only in a non-verbal way)
Mom: So you're sure you're not starting your change eh?
Moi: yeah Mom, pretty sure. The doctors say I'm not even close.
Mom: well, I'd have them check again. I started at your age you know.
Moi: well Mom, I've had the tests twice now and they continue to show that I am not peri-menopausal.
Mom: yeah, but do they tell you if you're starting the change?
and then today we move onto the other favourite subject. My weight and my weight loss plans.
Mom: So have you figured out what you're going to be able to eat for dinner yet?
Moi: yes. I have my points all calculated for today.
Mom: guess you won't want this easter bunny I bought for you then.
Moi: (wtf???? who buys their overweight daughter an easter bunny when they know she's just started WW???) (oops....head voice again....) No Mom, but I will give it to the kids for you. Thanks for doing that.
Mom: but you can have the dessert I've made. Your sister says it's only8 points a serving.
Moi: (ok, starting to understand where my freaking weight problem came from here Ma!!!) (oops....frigging head voice...stop!). No Mom, I'm planning to pass on the dessert tonight.
Mom: but you can't do that! It's so good! You'll have to have just one piece. 8 points isn't much1
Moi: (You're hormonal....it's just the hormones talking. You really don't want to shove your mother's face in her dessert bowl now do you???) Thanks Mom, but I'm really planning to pass. I need to get myself a little more in control before I start back with desserts.
Mom: But you know, WW isn't supposed to be a DIET. It's supposed to be a WAY OF LIFE. Desserts are part of LIFE.
I love her dearly but man, I need to get my game face on to deal with her sometimes. Being on these pills is not helping.
On another very sad note, I've been meaning to share this obituary that was in our local paper. I found their website and viewed their before pregnancy pictures of trips and stuff. No one should have to suffer the loss of their child, and I was very touched by the celebration of their son's short life described in the obituary. I'm keeping them in my prayers.
Friday, March 25, 2005
The Good Friday Death of Hope
So, another failed cycle on the clomid. I had the feeling that we hadn't been successful this month ~ funny how you get to know your body so well. I was a week late. Sitting here today I don't know if I feel like starting the clomid again tomorrow. But you and I both know I will.
It's ironic that this happened on Good Friday. The very day that we Christians believe brought hope to the world. And yet my hope has died today. Although, being the good infertile that I am, I'm sure it will rise again.
HB and I had a good night last night. Went to Holy Thursday service kind of together (he sits in the congregation and I sing) and then came home for a very late supper, and good conversation. He rarely says anything less than constructive to me, but asked me last night why I have become so fatalistic and verbal about the possibility that we might not conceive and carry to term. This came from a comment that I made last night that although I had made a hair appointment for Saturday, I was going to hold off on getting colour until my period arrived. Odd how we see things differently. I was saying it in a "I don't want to risk harming a baby" way just in case this period being late actually meant we had a shot of being pregnant. He heard it entirely differently. That I was just waiting for my period to arrive and then I'd make an appointment for colour.
I was thinking this morning about this blog. I don't write often about my infertility any more. I'm not even sure that I think about it all that often any more. Does this mean I'm coming to some peace with it? Or have I started really to walk toward the state of resignation and acceptance? I really don't know where my head is any more. I don't know if it's worth it, month after month.
I feel like I want to focus on getting back into shape, getting some weight off (I've had three days of completely following WW ... have to start somewhere right?), get rid of this stuffed sausage with your skin pulled so tight you feel like it's going to snap feeling, and move back to health. I want to focus emotionally and spiritually ~ deepen in ways that I haven't been of late. I want to spend more time with Mini Me and Frodo ~ focus on that part of my family a bit more. I want to get to know this incredible husband of mine better and more deeply ~ get out of this complacent spot I've been hanging around in.
There. That sounds like a Good Friday plan. I can see the resurrection on the horizon already.
Friday evening addition:
HB's ex in-laws were at Good Friday service today at the parish I sing at. It's not the parish they normally attend and not even near their neighbourhood, but they like the parish priest there. I'm not sure why it bugs me so much, but it does. I feel sometimes that there is no part of our lives that is just ours. That we're always being tested. And I do know that, with the exception of her mother, the entire family is an incredibly judgmental, self righteous bunch. Right now, I feel so physically awful about my appearance that I hate thinking that they were there watching me sing today, judging me.
It seems that she and her family touch so much of our lives. And this is not a small city! But it seems like every time we turn around, they are there somehow. I wouldn't mind it quite so much except that they have not let go of their anger for HB. I'm thinking, grow up and get over it people!!! You raised a prima donna for a daughter ~ she drove him away ~ I have him. End of story.
On the day HB and I went to get marriage license, we were very excited. We went into the office and there was only one other person in the place, whom we sort of noticed but not really, you know? We're at the counter, joking and laughing with the clerk as she runs us through the questions for the license. When she gets to the question "have either of you ever been married before?" HB says, in what I call his big boy outloud voice, "unfortunately yes" and kind of puffs up his chest, turning around to look around the office. Suddenly, his face drops and he spins back around to face me, saying "oh. my. God. That's Knothead's father over there."
Now what are the freaking odds that the ONE person who would be in the office the same day as we are picking up our marriage license would be HB's former father in law?
Amazing.
So on I'll go, accepting that they will be a part of my life forever. Better get used to it I guess.
It's ironic that this happened on Good Friday. The very day that we Christians believe brought hope to the world. And yet my hope has died today. Although, being the good infertile that I am, I'm sure it will rise again.
HB and I had a good night last night. Went to Holy Thursday service kind of together (he sits in the congregation and I sing) and then came home for a very late supper, and good conversation. He rarely says anything less than constructive to me, but asked me last night why I have become so fatalistic and verbal about the possibility that we might not conceive and carry to term. This came from a comment that I made last night that although I had made a hair appointment for Saturday, I was going to hold off on getting colour until my period arrived. Odd how we see things differently. I was saying it in a "I don't want to risk harming a baby" way just in case this period being late actually meant we had a shot of being pregnant. He heard it entirely differently. That I was just waiting for my period to arrive and then I'd make an appointment for colour.
I was thinking this morning about this blog. I don't write often about my infertility any more. I'm not even sure that I think about it all that often any more. Does this mean I'm coming to some peace with it? Or have I started really to walk toward the state of resignation and acceptance? I really don't know where my head is any more. I don't know if it's worth it, month after month.
I feel like I want to focus on getting back into shape, getting some weight off (I've had three days of completely following WW ... have to start somewhere right?), get rid of this stuffed sausage with your skin pulled so tight you feel like it's going to snap feeling, and move back to health. I want to focus emotionally and spiritually ~ deepen in ways that I haven't been of late. I want to spend more time with Mini Me and Frodo ~ focus on that part of my family a bit more. I want to get to know this incredible husband of mine better and more deeply ~ get out of this complacent spot I've been hanging around in.
There. That sounds like a Good Friday plan. I can see the resurrection on the horizon already.
Friday evening addition:
HB's ex in-laws were at Good Friday service today at the parish I sing at. It's not the parish they normally attend and not even near their neighbourhood, but they like the parish priest there. I'm not sure why it bugs me so much, but it does. I feel sometimes that there is no part of our lives that is just ours. That we're always being tested. And I do know that, with the exception of her mother, the entire family is an incredibly judgmental, self righteous bunch. Right now, I feel so physically awful about my appearance that I hate thinking that they were there watching me sing today, judging me.
It seems that she and her family touch so much of our lives. And this is not a small city! But it seems like every time we turn around, they are there somehow. I wouldn't mind it quite so much except that they have not let go of their anger for HB. I'm thinking, grow up and get over it people!!! You raised a prima donna for a daughter ~ she drove him away ~ I have him. End of story.
On the day HB and I went to get marriage license, we were very excited. We went into the office and there was only one other person in the place, whom we sort of noticed but not really, you know? We're at the counter, joking and laughing with the clerk as she runs us through the questions for the license. When she gets to the question "have either of you ever been married before?" HB says, in what I call his big boy outloud voice, "unfortunately yes" and kind of puffs up his chest, turning around to look around the office. Suddenly, his face drops and he spins back around to face me, saying "oh. my. God. That's Knothead's father over there."
Now what are the freaking odds that the ONE person who would be in the office the same day as we are picking up our marriage license would be HB's former father in law?
Amazing.
So on I'll go, accepting that they will be a part of my life forever. Better get used to it I guess.
Monday, March 21, 2005
More Bits and Bites
The weekend
I'm back. Had a good weekend. Lots of time for reflection. Made some cool new acquaintances, some of whom feel like they will develop into deeper friendships. Sang and sang and sang...played guitar through the blisters on my fingers and thumb, but it was worth it. Spent much time reflecting on motherhood, and am beginning to get my head back around the possibility that I will not be one to my own living child or children. And for once, didn't reflect in a sorrow filled way about that. Kept thinking about the gifts of Frodo and Mini-Me and realizing that perhaps as I'm so focused on trying to conceive one of our own, I'm missing out on some cool parts of the journey of their lives. All stuff to ponder and think about. Because that's what I do, don't you know.
Granddad
HB's granddad passed away on Wednesday, and of course I was in on this retreat all weekend so couldn't be present for any of the services. HB gave one of the readings at the service, and spent a fair amount of time checking in on his mom. Granddad was his maternal grandfather. I didn't know him well, but loved what I did know about him. He was 89 and had been living with Alzheimers (or as my mother in law calls it, alltimers) for a number of years. When we'd go to visit, he'd flip his teeth out, cackling and saying "Betchya can't do that! Give me some money, pretty girl!", all the while patting the couch to convince me to sit beside him. He was a dear man who maintained a keen sense of humour almost to the end of his life. I see much of him in both my dear mother in law, and her awesome son. You lived a good life Granddad ~ and you will live on in the many you have left behind as legacy.
My House
was apparently hit by a hurricane while I was away. And someone came in and threw up paper and magazines all over the place, peppered with a dirty sock and a bit of dog drool here and there. I have been attempting to use up vacation time before the end of this fiscal period, and will be spending it clean sweeping this pig sty. We have too much stuff. It's probably a good thing we haven't been able to have a baby. He or she would get lost under the piles of stuff in this house.
Levity
Someone sent me this very cute link. I don't often laugh out loud in any kind of sincere way at jokes I receive by email, but I enjoyed this one. Hormone_warning
The Weight Issue
I am inspired by Cecily daily, and really needed to read what she had written in this post about her current weight loss journey. I realized last night that I have hit the point where I am collecting stinky sweat in fat folds. I never imagined that I would hit that point in weight. I think the click has arrived.
I'm back. Had a good weekend. Lots of time for reflection. Made some cool new acquaintances, some of whom feel like they will develop into deeper friendships. Sang and sang and sang...played guitar through the blisters on my fingers and thumb, but it was worth it. Spent much time reflecting on motherhood, and am beginning to get my head back around the possibility that I will not be one to my own living child or children. And for once, didn't reflect in a sorrow filled way about that. Kept thinking about the gifts of Frodo and Mini-Me and realizing that perhaps as I'm so focused on trying to conceive one of our own, I'm missing out on some cool parts of the journey of their lives. All stuff to ponder and think about. Because that's what I do, don't you know.
Granddad
HB's granddad passed away on Wednesday, and of course I was in on this retreat all weekend so couldn't be present for any of the services. HB gave one of the readings at the service, and spent a fair amount of time checking in on his mom. Granddad was his maternal grandfather. I didn't know him well, but loved what I did know about him. He was 89 and had been living with Alzheimers (or as my mother in law calls it, alltimers) for a number of years. When we'd go to visit, he'd flip his teeth out, cackling and saying "Betchya can't do that! Give me some money, pretty girl!", all the while patting the couch to convince me to sit beside him. He was a dear man who maintained a keen sense of humour almost to the end of his life. I see much of him in both my dear mother in law, and her awesome son. You lived a good life Granddad ~ and you will live on in the many you have left behind as legacy.
My House
was apparently hit by a hurricane while I was away. And someone came in and threw up paper and magazines all over the place, peppered with a dirty sock and a bit of dog drool here and there. I have been attempting to use up vacation time before the end of this fiscal period, and will be spending it clean sweeping this pig sty. We have too much stuff. It's probably a good thing we haven't been able to have a baby. He or she would get lost under the piles of stuff in this house.
Levity
Someone sent me this very cute link. I don't often laugh out loud in any kind of sincere way at jokes I receive by email, but I enjoyed this one. Hormone_warning
The Weight Issue
I am inspired by Cecily daily, and really needed to read what she had written in this post about her current weight loss journey. I realized last night that I have hit the point where I am collecting stinky sweat in fat folds. I never imagined that I would hit that point in weight. I think the click has arrived.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Odds & Sods
HB is doing better pain wise. I'm glad I got my garbage out here on the blog and didn't get too stupid about it at home. As it turns out, and I knew it would turn out this way, my fears were completely unfounded. He took the muscle relaxants for one day ~ a total of two pills ~ and threw them out. He said he didn't like the way they made him feel, largely like he was looking through a haze, and that he would rather feel the pain. The anti-flammatories and the massage therapy are helping him to move through the pain, and today he was much better. I'm so grateful for a partner who knows the importance of living his own recovery. I'm also grateful that I have obviously grown enough in the years we've been on the recovery road that I was truly able to detach and hand over what was not mine to meddle in.
In other news ~ I'm getting ready to go away on a retreat weekend. It's actually called a Cursillo . I've been involved with this community since 1986, and am going to be providing the music for the group this weekend. It's a really renewing experience for me to work on a team, and although I'm generally pretty tired when I return home, I feel fed. This cold that I have been struggling with seems to have lifted a lot today, so I should be ok to sing without having too runny a nose all weekend!
I'm about 24 days into this cycle, and have been experiencing some gas like pain in my left side the last two days. I had that the first month I was on clomid as well, and if you remember, that was the month that I got a positive pregnancy test result but miscarried within two weeks. Please God, don't let this be a repeat of that. For once, let it just be gas!
In other news ~ I'm getting ready to go away on a retreat weekend. It's actually called a Cursillo . I've been involved with this community since 1986, and am going to be providing the music for the group this weekend. It's a really renewing experience for me to work on a team, and although I'm generally pretty tired when I return home, I feel fed. This cold that I have been struggling with seems to have lifted a lot today, so I should be ok to sing without having too runny a nose all weekend!
I'm about 24 days into this cycle, and have been experiencing some gas like pain in my left side the last two days. I had that the first month I was on clomid as well, and if you remember, that was the month that I got a positive pregnancy test result but miscarried within two weeks. Please God, don't let this be a repeat of that. For once, let it just be gas!
Monday, March 14, 2005
Stinkin Thinkin
My mind feels like it's wandering tonight. I still haven't found my click, but I'm feeling a bit better the last few days. I've had a hell of a cold that arrived on Thursday and has decided to set up housekeeping. HB was away for the weekend, working on a retreat team, so I had a rare weekend of having the house entirely to myself. I dropped him off on Thursday and had a great evening kind of lolling around the house ~ doing what I wanted when I wanted. Woke up at 4 a.m. absolutely convinced my life was ending. Spent the rest of the 'night' in the washroom hugging my new best friend.
But I've decided to live. I had to get better quickly, because HB came home broken. I swear he was in good physical shape when I sent him in on the retreat. Those men broke him! He had used an incorrect technique while working out last week, and did some damage to his rotator cuff. Didn't think it was that bad, so headed in to the weekend. He returned home Sunday in extreme pain. At one point last night he was on his knees, laying up against our bed, and I was rubbing his back. And all I could think of was having seen this same scene on A Baby Story a bazillion times ~ only it's usually a very pregnant woman laying up against the bed and an anxious soon to be father rubbing her back.
Anyhow, he went to see his doctor today, but couldn't see him, so settled for a duty doctor who doesn't know him. And this doctor prescribed muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory medications.
I don't usually tell his story here, because this is really supposed to be MY blog, but he is part of my story I guess. HB is a person in recovery, and has several years of clean time. Truthfully, I think of hundreds of other adjectives before the adjective 'addict' comes to my mind when thinking of my awesome husband. I have to admit, though, that the presence of these medications in our home is making me nervous. His addiction started because of athletic related injuries and doctors prescribing pain killers. I know that muscle relaxants are not in the same park, but it made me nervous none the less. This is a house that rarely even has ibuprofen in it.
Don't get me wrong. I'm very clear that this is his recovery, and I have absolute faith in him and his recovery. He took only what was prescribed, and also chose to supplement with massage therapy this afternoon. He stated tonight at dinner that he hopes not to have to take anything beyond tomorrow ~ that he just needs to unknot the muscle enough to let the massage therapy work.
I trust that he is not going jeopardize what he has built on a one day at a time basis. It's been a long long while since I let a little of the old doubt and fear related to addiction creep into my day. I'm grateful that we both have enough time under our belts to know that naming those fears and laying them out on the table is the only way to go ... that's what I had to do at supper tonight. And that hurts because I always worry that he thinks I don't trust him ... even though that's so far from the truth. It's just my humanness getting in my way.
But I've decided to live. I had to get better quickly, because HB came home broken. I swear he was in good physical shape when I sent him in on the retreat. Those men broke him! He had used an incorrect technique while working out last week, and did some damage to his rotator cuff. Didn't think it was that bad, so headed in to the weekend. He returned home Sunday in extreme pain. At one point last night he was on his knees, laying up against our bed, and I was rubbing his back. And all I could think of was having seen this same scene on A Baby Story a bazillion times ~ only it's usually a very pregnant woman laying up against the bed and an anxious soon to be father rubbing her back.
Anyhow, he went to see his doctor today, but couldn't see him, so settled for a duty doctor who doesn't know him. And this doctor prescribed muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory medications.
I don't usually tell his story here, because this is really supposed to be MY blog, but he is part of my story I guess. HB is a person in recovery, and has several years of clean time. Truthfully, I think of hundreds of other adjectives before the adjective 'addict' comes to my mind when thinking of my awesome husband. I have to admit, though, that the presence of these medications in our home is making me nervous. His addiction started because of athletic related injuries and doctors prescribing pain killers. I know that muscle relaxants are not in the same park, but it made me nervous none the less. This is a house that rarely even has ibuprofen in it.
Don't get me wrong. I'm very clear that this is his recovery, and I have absolute faith in him and his recovery. He took only what was prescribed, and also chose to supplement with massage therapy this afternoon. He stated tonight at dinner that he hopes not to have to take anything beyond tomorrow ~ that he just needs to unknot the muscle enough to let the massage therapy work.
I trust that he is not going jeopardize what he has built on a one day at a time basis. It's been a long long while since I let a little of the old doubt and fear related to addiction creep into my day. I'm grateful that we both have enough time under our belts to know that naming those fears and laying them out on the table is the only way to go ... that's what I had to do at supper tonight. And that hurts because I always worry that he thinks I don't trust him ... even though that's so far from the truth. It's just my humanness getting in my way.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Looking for my click.
I'm looking for the 'click' that I need and I can't find it. I'm still on a bit of a high from that workshop last week, but am feeling personally frustrated with myself. If I wasn't so overweight right now, I'd attempt to kick my own ass, but at my weight, that just wouldn't be pretty.
In August 1998, I found the 'click'. I walked into a weight loss clinic, picked up their program, talked to the counsellor there, and proceeded to embark on a journey that resulted with me being 60 lbs lighter by May1999. I had the 'click'. My head was totally there with me. I took one day at a time, and I celebrated every loss. I loved the compliments, and I was totally devoted to this program.
Then in 2002, I got pregnant. I had allowed about 20 of those hard lost pounds to sneak back on by this time, but was still doing alright. Within the first 20 weeks of that pregnancy, I had regained 35 more. When we lost the baby, I was 5 lbs lighter than when I had first walked into that clinic in 1998.
I have just continued to move upward. I am 10 lbs heavier than when we lost the baby in 2002. I'm going to the gym off and on, but I can't seem to keep it going much more than a month in a solid run.
What pisses me off is that I know what it is that I have to do! I just can't seem to get my shit together enough to do it.
When I met my husband, I was wearing a size 10. We have a picture of the two of us and we're these teeny tiny little people. He was that way because he was sick, of course, and it didn't look great on him. His cheeks were hollow looking and his face drawn ... but our bodies were both teeny tiny.
Then we both went the other way during the pregnancy. Pictures from during and after that time show us looking like a pair of weebles - round and smiling.
Now he's put a real drive on in the last year and returned to working out with a vengence. He is at the gym one hour each day, runs in the morning, and usually does two tae kwan do classes per week. In the summer he paddles. It's important to note one basic difference between us. He grew up engaged in athletics, and in fact, was a fairly well known junior hockey player here that got drafted to two farm teams. I grew up cooking and eating clams and fries in the rinks while he was playing. Never was I athletic ~ nor am I inclined to be now.
He hasn't said anything to me about my weight gain, but I feel embarrassed around him. He's so trim and fit now - actually has those hard ab happening. My stomach rests on my legs as I sit here typing.
I need to get off this fat arse and go find my click. Now. Today. Even if it is just for today.
In August 1998, I found the 'click'. I walked into a weight loss clinic, picked up their program, talked to the counsellor there, and proceeded to embark on a journey that resulted with me being 60 lbs lighter by May1999. I had the 'click'. My head was totally there with me. I took one day at a time, and I celebrated every loss. I loved the compliments, and I was totally devoted to this program.
Then in 2002, I got pregnant. I had allowed about 20 of those hard lost pounds to sneak back on by this time, but was still doing alright. Within the first 20 weeks of that pregnancy, I had regained 35 more. When we lost the baby, I was 5 lbs lighter than when I had first walked into that clinic in 1998.
I have just continued to move upward. I am 10 lbs heavier than when we lost the baby in 2002. I'm going to the gym off and on, but I can't seem to keep it going much more than a month in a solid run.
What pisses me off is that I know what it is that I have to do! I just can't seem to get my shit together enough to do it.
When I met my husband, I was wearing a size 10. We have a picture of the two of us and we're these teeny tiny little people. He was that way because he was sick, of course, and it didn't look great on him. His cheeks were hollow looking and his face drawn ... but our bodies were both teeny tiny.
Then we both went the other way during the pregnancy. Pictures from during and after that time show us looking like a pair of weebles - round and smiling.
Now he's put a real drive on in the last year and returned to working out with a vengence. He is at the gym one hour each day, runs in the morning, and usually does two tae kwan do classes per week. In the summer he paddles. It's important to note one basic difference between us. He grew up engaged in athletics, and in fact, was a fairly well known junior hockey player here that got drafted to two farm teams. I grew up cooking and eating clams and fries in the rinks while he was playing. Never was I athletic ~ nor am I inclined to be now.
He hasn't said anything to me about my weight gain, but I feel embarrassed around him. He's so trim and fit now - actually has those hard ab happening. My stomach rests on my legs as I sit here typing.
I need to get off this fat arse and go find my click. Now. Today. Even if it is just for today.
Friday, March 04, 2005
I'm going to sit in the front row
I was away at a retreat centre for most of the week, completing the last module of an executive development program I've been taking through work. The sessions have been like the girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead. When they were good, they were very very good but when they were bad, they were horrid.
Fortunately the one this week was very very good. And it's given me a lot to blog about today.
It was one of those epiphany experiences for me. Of course, it always helps that you're at a beautiful, quiet, private retreat house, nestled deep in the woods, snow falling softly, being fed and catered to, when these epiphanies come along. Keeping them going in action once I've returned to the 'real' world is and always has been my challenge.
The facilitator was a sports psychologist who coaches our Canadian Olympic athletes, and the topic was on coaching, visioning, and mental fitness. The inner journey to excellence. We spent a lot of time talking about reframing - and not in a Pollyanna kind of way - but really reframing our thoughts and responses to situations that do not turn out the way we had hoped or planned for them.
For me, I felt incredibly grateful that I have somehow found a way of doing that internal reframing as it relates to infertility. The session was very confirming for me, as I had been becoming concerned that I was just not dealing with our losses by ... well, just not dealing with them. The most recent example of not even going to the doctor after the last miscarriage was part of what had raised that for me. But I can see now that in fact, I am using my inner strength and naturally somewhat positive attitude to reframe these experiences for myself. And of course it helps greatly that I have a man in my daily life who is just a natural reframer - and with whom I can journey.
The other thing that we spent a lot of time talking about was choices. How we always have choice. Ironically, I actually met up with that old boyfriend who had emailed me while I was away on this course this week.
The retreat facility was in the same little town that he and his wife live in now, and so we decided we would meet face to face for a coffee. It was yet another very confirming experience for me that I had made the right choice all those many years ago. It also confirmed how right a choice having HB as my life partner is for me.
As I sat across the table from this man who had been so much a part of my formative years, and listened to him talk about what he would have done differently had he to do it all over again - I was just incredibly grateful for the choices that I had made in my life. He is a very nice man (I didn't always pick losers and assholes as boyfriends) but I felt so sad for him. He is obviously not able to be happy with the choices that he has made. He has no inner peace. Even as he sat there, talking about his two beautiful children, he was saying "wouldn't it be cool if you were their mother" to me.
Blew my mind. I looked at him and said "but of course I couldn't be their mother. Because they wouldn't be who they are - so we wouldn't be talking about the two same little people if I was their mother".
He couldn't get that. He could not get that who we are is a sum of our life experience, and that the little boys that he loves have life experience because of another woman he has chosen.
I asked him straight out if he was happy, and why he had picked now to reconnect with me. He said he was happy, and that he was just always curious about how my life had turned out.
Then he uttered the words that will echo in my mind for a long time. He actually said .... "besides, you never know when my wife A or your husband HB might not be around ... and maybe then we'll have a chance with each other".
What the hell?
I was flabbergasted. And completely reinforced in my choice of all that many years ago to have walked away from him. Who plans for who they're going to be with just in case their wife dies or leaves? I can't even bring myself to think about the day that my husband might not be with me any more, and definitely couldn't imagine ever finding anyone that could measure up to the partnership he and I have developed and lived through our relationship. To think about being out shopping for a replacement just sickens me.
And again, I realized that I had a choice. I could sit and not say how shocked I was to him - much the way I had never spoken my mind to him in the past, allowing him my tacit approval for his bad behaviour. Or I could show him just how I had "turned out", as he put it, and introduce him to the assertive woman I have become.
I chose the latter. I explained to him in no uncertain terms that I had made the choice to meet with him in person out of nothing more than pure and idle curiousity. That I had no plans of sharing this meeting with my husband, but neither did I have plans to ever see him again in person after this one short get together. I went on to tell him why I loved my husband and my life. How grateful I am to have each and every day. How I had realized that I needed to be fully present to every moment of every day after my brother died. How I am learning to take nothing for granted. How I now understand what a miracle life actually is and how my miscarriages have helped me to appreciate that miracle - not just in the lives of the children I see but in my own life. How that miracle should never be taken lightly, and how the only life I had control over was mine.
I told him to go home to his wife and to decide how he was going to live. But stop playing the past and future game. Live in the moment and make the choices that you need to in order to celebrate the miracle of your own life.
Then I went back to the retreat centre and called my husband, to thank him for loving me.
The last video the coach showed us yesterday gave us five rules for living. I'm going to keep typing them out and sharing them with others, and I've made a commitment to use them in my daily way of life. They are:
Fortunately the one this week was very very good. And it's given me a lot to blog about today.
It was one of those epiphany experiences for me. Of course, it always helps that you're at a beautiful, quiet, private retreat house, nestled deep in the woods, snow falling softly, being fed and catered to, when these epiphanies come along. Keeping them going in action once I've returned to the 'real' world is and always has been my challenge.
The facilitator was a sports psychologist who coaches our Canadian Olympic athletes, and the topic was on coaching, visioning, and mental fitness. The inner journey to excellence. We spent a lot of time talking about reframing - and not in a Pollyanna kind of way - but really reframing our thoughts and responses to situations that do not turn out the way we had hoped or planned for them.
For me, I felt incredibly grateful that I have somehow found a way of doing that internal reframing as it relates to infertility. The session was very confirming for me, as I had been becoming concerned that I was just not dealing with our losses by ... well, just not dealing with them. The most recent example of not even going to the doctor after the last miscarriage was part of what had raised that for me. But I can see now that in fact, I am using my inner strength and naturally somewhat positive attitude to reframe these experiences for myself. And of course it helps greatly that I have a man in my daily life who is just a natural reframer - and with whom I can journey.
The other thing that we spent a lot of time talking about was choices. How we always have choice. Ironically, I actually met up with that old boyfriend who had emailed me while I was away on this course this week.
The retreat facility was in the same little town that he and his wife live in now, and so we decided we would meet face to face for a coffee. It was yet another very confirming experience for me that I had made the right choice all those many years ago. It also confirmed how right a choice having HB as my life partner is for me.
As I sat across the table from this man who had been so much a part of my formative years, and listened to him talk about what he would have done differently had he to do it all over again - I was just incredibly grateful for the choices that I had made in my life. He is a very nice man (I didn't always pick losers and assholes as boyfriends) but I felt so sad for him. He is obviously not able to be happy with the choices that he has made. He has no inner peace. Even as he sat there, talking about his two beautiful children, he was saying "wouldn't it be cool if you were their mother" to me.
Blew my mind. I looked at him and said "but of course I couldn't be their mother. Because they wouldn't be who they are - so we wouldn't be talking about the two same little people if I was their mother".
He couldn't get that. He could not get that who we are is a sum of our life experience, and that the little boys that he loves have life experience because of another woman he has chosen.
I asked him straight out if he was happy, and why he had picked now to reconnect with me. He said he was happy, and that he was just always curious about how my life had turned out.
Then he uttered the words that will echo in my mind for a long time. He actually said .... "besides, you never know when my wife A or your husband HB might not be around ... and maybe then we'll have a chance with each other".
What the hell?
I was flabbergasted. And completely reinforced in my choice of all that many years ago to have walked away from him. Who plans for who they're going to be with just in case their wife dies or leaves? I can't even bring myself to think about the day that my husband might not be with me any more, and definitely couldn't imagine ever finding anyone that could measure up to the partnership he and I have developed and lived through our relationship. To think about being out shopping for a replacement just sickens me.
And again, I realized that I had a choice. I could sit and not say how shocked I was to him - much the way I had never spoken my mind to him in the past, allowing him my tacit approval for his bad behaviour. Or I could show him just how I had "turned out", as he put it, and introduce him to the assertive woman I have become.
I chose the latter. I explained to him in no uncertain terms that I had made the choice to meet with him in person out of nothing more than pure and idle curiousity. That I had no plans of sharing this meeting with my husband, but neither did I have plans to ever see him again in person after this one short get together. I went on to tell him why I loved my husband and my life. How grateful I am to have each and every day. How I had realized that I needed to be fully present to every moment of every day after my brother died. How I am learning to take nothing for granted. How I now understand what a miracle life actually is and how my miscarriages have helped me to appreciate that miracle - not just in the lives of the children I see but in my own life. How that miracle should never be taken lightly, and how the only life I had control over was mine.
I told him to go home to his wife and to decide how he was going to live. But stop playing the past and future game. Live in the moment and make the choices that you need to in order to celebrate the miracle of your own life.
Then I went back to the retreat centre and called my husband, to thank him for loving me.
The last video the coach showed us yesterday gave us five rules for living. I'm going to keep typing them out and sharing them with others, and I've made a commitment to use them in my daily way of life. They are:
- Sit in the front row of your life - participate!
- When you make a mistake, say "how fascinating!"
- Quiet the voice in your head.
- Live in radiating possibility .... become part of the song!
- Invent a new game called "I AM a contribution!"
It's been a great week. Even if I have been a walking hormone because of the clomid. My life is good and I am eternally grateful. I am committed to continuing to make the choices that are right for me and mine.
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