Hiatus

We're off in a few hours. I've just started my period (of course), but I'm not bringing any thermometers, infertility books, or the like along for the week. It's going to be sun, sand, margaritas, and nothing else.

I hate to call this our honeymoon because it's so cheesy, but I'm afraid we haven't had any other and this is the first non-family related vacation since our wedding... so yeah, I guess it's our honeymoon in Fuertaventura.

I wanted to sneak to Cuba.

Vacation Time!

Woohoo! We are flying on Saturday for some lovely sun, which is very important as this summer the weather here has suuuucked. Summer is not supposed to be sweater weather.

And I made it to the store yesterday to get yarn for the many baby blankets I'm preparing to make. (I crochet little one-color afghans as my standard baby gift.) The beer in my system (thanks to my friend Simon and his suggestion that we meet up at an Irish pub) didn't make me sleepy enough to hinder the blanket-starting process, but my husband did end up falling asleep next to me cuddling a ball of yarn instead of his sweet and attentive wife who went to the pub instead of staying home to take care of her poor husband with a bad cold. (Why did I not take a photo of that?)

And... I just got a notification that my books have arrived. Thank you, Amazon! My book club will be reading A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini, but I didn't particularly care for the second half of The Kite Runner so that was a grudging purchase. My other books are much more intriguing to me: IVF: The Wayward Stork: What to Expect, Who to Expect It From, and Surviving It All and How to Get Pregnant: The Classic Guide to Overcoming Infertility. I really want to dig into these, but I think my husband would throw them into the ocean if I brought them along as my beach reads.

8!

I know seven (!) pregnant couples. I just found out about the eighth - Jonathan was born on September 14th to a former colleague and his wife.

Fate

I'd only told one person about trying to have a baby: my dear friend, who lives thousands of miles away and is a birth doula and childbirth and lactation educator. Of course, she now knows about our infertility, too.

There would just be too much pressure if people knew, and I really didn't want to hear constant questions, advice, whatever.

The fertility boards were a good start for support, but lately I've spent more time writhing in my seat and yelling at the monitor instead of being a productive member of the group. Vox is many orders of magnitude better... I can vent, introspect, and laugh and not feel like I'm all alone in this (I love reading your comments and messages, by the way.)

In my non-electronic life, I'm an expat. I'm fairly fluent in the language now, but when I first arrived I couldn't follow the rapid conversations that occur in a group, and as a result I have a very small circle of friends. I'm working on that, too. I've recently joined a knitting circle where I get to practice my language skills and my knitting at the same time. And I joined a club for American women... this is the club to which I refer in previous posts, and about which I wrote those horrible (but true) things on my other blog. (I'll also post later about why I didn't want to join until now, more than 4 years after moving here.)

I attended a new member evening last night. I could talk! Freely! In English! I wanted to keep chatting all night. At dinner, I was seated next to a woman I'd never met, and we got to talking, as you do. Without going into boring detail, there was a point when I just had this feeling that I had to tell her that we are going to start IVF.

It was amazing. She told me that she had been through it 4 times with no success, but had so much to share about the local clinics, including some very bad experiences with the clinic we were planning to use. She took my hands and made me promise to get a second opinion from her favorite clinic, and said that every woman she has sent there has had a baby. She called herself my talisman. She also made me promise that I wouldn't invite her to the baby shower.

In the end, she gave me her email address and offered any support she could give.

One day, I'll post the whole incredible story of how I ended up moving here. For now, just know that every step seemed to be fate. Meeting my husband when I did (about a year after moving here and a month after deciding that this does feel like home) and our further story again seems like fate. And yesterday... the day before my fertility forum membership expired, I met my talisman.

Now I'm just being mean

This is my last little fertility board rant.

Number one: No, wikipedia is not sufficient evidence to convince me that global warming does not exist.

Number two: Of course you know who killed Madeleine McCann.

Number three: Oh for the love of pete - learn to use an OPK or stop using them. Posting three times a day with "Did I O? *pic*" is getting old. I don't want to see your pee sticks with more regularity than my mealtimes.

Number four: This crying escalation is getting silly. One poster says she's choked up, another says tears are rolling down her cheeks, the next can't see the post through her tears, and the last couple are actually bawling. (No, this isn't hypothetical. A cat died and that's really, really sad, but I say no bawling unless you've ever actually touched the cat.)

My subscription runs out in three days. I'm not sure I can bring myself to renew.

Shushy McJudge, at your service

I know kids don't need a whole lot of material stuff. I know parenting has very little to do with what you can physically provide for your children.

But (you knew that was coming, right?), when you are posting on a fertility board about whether or not ovulation predictor kits can be used as pregnancy tests because you have zero dollars until your husband gets paid next week and so can't afford a pregnancy test... that might be a sign that now is not the best time for you to bring a life into this world.

Same goes for the lady who requested your cheapest recipes, who then replies that they aren't cheap enough because she's already having to cut back to feed her family of four. Again - is now really the best time to add a fifth?

I don't want to sound like a snob, but is reality at all entering their reproductive choices? When you are struggling to provide even the basics like, uh, food, it might be wise to postpone taking on further obligations.

I'm kind of surprised at the number of women who are posting like this. I'm kind of shocked at the number who post about their husband's mental abuse (it's totally my inference that it's mental abuse, but hey... when a guy tells you you are stupid and no one else will have you... it's not a huge leap.)

And now Paris Hilton is talking babies. Did any of them really think this whole thing through?

Baby booming

There seems to be an explosion of expectant parents in my circle of friends. The problem is, explosions tend to leave a lot of collateral damage in their wake.

A friend called to wish me happy birthday yesterday. He had a bit of news, too: he's going to be a father in December. With a colleague with whom he wants no relationship. Who is also not his long-term, charmingly beautiful and intelligent live-in girlfriend. Who now neither lives-in nor is his girlfriend.

I'm not close with his now ex-girlfriend, but I want to reach out and hug her. And I want to kick my friend's ass.

Happiness, in husband form

We drove a total of 6 hours last night to spend 2 hours celebrating a friend's 40th birthday. I'm so glad we went, and I know it meant a lot to our friend that we made the effort to be there, even if we did leave at midnight because we are lame like that.

When we got there, I wondered if his girlfriend was wearing a particularly unflattering shirt. Nope, she's due in February. They are the sweetest couple and will be incredible parents. I was truly, truly happy to hear their news. On this night, there were no twinges of jealousy or longing. Just happiness for them.

It seemed to hit my husband kind of hard, though. On the drive home, he asked me if I'd asked her if it was planned. (I told him in no uncertain terms no, but that she volunteered a little bit of info that makes it sound like it was unplanned but completely welcome. They've been together for ages, I should add.) At the party, he quietly asked me if I was upset that it couldn't be us, too.

I took the opportunity on the drive home to reassure him that I don't blame him at all and that I've heard IVF is scary from the sound of it, but the actuality isn't so bad. You see, we have stopped talking about the whole baby thing for the most part. He's still feeling guilty and overwhelmed. There's not much we can do until his second semen analysis confirms the doctor's diagnosis. So there's no point in inviting the elephant into the room. He'll poke his head in every now and then so that he knows we haven't forgotten about him, but he can go graze in the yard for a while. (Do elephants graze? What about the fact that we live on the 6th floor without an elevator and have no yard? Am I totally blowing my metaphor?)

All of the unhappy Princess Diana coverage reminds me that I'm lucky to be in such a loving marriage. He's taking this hard, sure, because it affects his 'manhood', but more because he's worried about me. We fell asleep at 3 am holding hands.