Saturday, May 4, 2013
It's tomorrow! Sunday, May 5, 2013
2:33 pm edt
Have you had enough? Mother’s
Day is nigh. And I am sick of hearing about it. Not that I would reject a few flowers, some perfume and lots of love. It’s
just that every year around this time, I’m reminded of the dark days before I had a daughter. My daughter. The most
remarkable girl in the world. The daughter of dreams. This year, National Infertility Survival Day is tomorrow, Cinco De Mayo
– May 5, 2013. For those who seek support and sisterhood. For those who don’t know how to comfort a significant
other. The sky, as they say, is the limit. Show a little love and a lot of sensitivity. Boost her spirits and spend a few
duckets. Sunday the 12th might be nigh, but it ain’t the end of the world or the last
word. And don’t forget Cinco De Mayo. See, we don’t need an excuse to celebrate. Only hope and happiness. Cheers.
Salud! To you cheries.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
The constant battle for the ultimate state of control
10:04 am edt
“So, next time you see a pregnant woman, kick back and have a martini. With extra olives.
Sashay by with the best body you can muster in the highest heels you can navigate. Wax buff with a Brazilian bikini wax. Let’s
see her get into that position…”
Infertility Sucks! Keeping it all together when sperm and egg stubbornly
remain apart, page 20.
I wrote that more than 10 years ago. It still helps. It’s a state of mind that says,
things are broken. But I am not.
Alas, shoes and martinis and bikinis can be bought. Not so for the kind of body
that one wants to sashay and display.
It’s not just about looking good. A healthy, supple body
can also be a more fertile body.
This weighty matter has been another struggle for me and many others, one that
I now realize has gone on way too long — since I was a teen, always fighting to be teeny-tiny.
I have always
thought that there’s no time for fussing and fighting my friend. And yet I’ve been fighting myself for years.
It’s asinine and it’s over. I’m over it.
I’m having fun with it now. I find it interesting
and even amusing how our environment tries to lure us into eating and drinking stuff. The way restaurants show pictures of
food — pictures taken with the care of a wedding photographer; the way certain ice cream shops create a scent so pleasing
as to cause passersby to salivate like Pavlov’s dog. (It’s not always only about The Beatles. Just usually.)
I have taken it upon myself to turn these ploys upside down and inside out. So, here’s an erstwhile eight-inch
pizza that at one time, only briefly, had the snake-like power to tempt:
Here’s a recipe that will enable you to have
your ‘za and eat it too. No guilt. Just yummy.
½ piece of Flatout Flatbread (I like the Light Italian
Coat lightly with Walden Farms Tomato & Basil Pasta Sauce
Sprinkle with one stick or one
slice of 2% cheese
Cover with six pieces of turkey sausage
Heat in microwave oven for about a minute.
Season to your liking.
Fend off the rest of the family or make enough for all.
that maritini… those olives. Oh, yeah, and the shoes. Always the shoes.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Of drags and dragonflies
So much change. And most all of it good. A big move has us back in our chosen home, South Florida, for the
first time in eight years. Back to friends, family, food and the beach.
5:49 pm edt
And for me, back to the bike. For many
reasons, none of them interesting to anyone who’s not an avid biker, I was not able to ride (happily, at least) in Orlando
or in Tampa.
What a huge loss. I now realize how much I’ve missed it. Sometimes, we’re so busy making
do that we neglect to record our sacrifices.
Now I see, though. Biking is life for me. I love it. I love that
my body can be moving me over the road while my mind is moving me where it will go. Fixing holes. Wandering. Writing.
The highlight of this morning’s ride was the dragonfly that hovered over the sidewalk in front of me as I wondered
how to avoid riding into it. I slowed, slowly. And when we were close enough to touch, the dragonfly glided left, hovered
higher, a show of mutual respect, insect and Homo sapien, woman and machine, the silky morning air our shared delight.
It’s moments like these that can keep me riding for 20 miles at a time, when time permits. Fourteen years ago,
I was on just such a ride when my third (and last — I can take a hint) miscarriage brought me face to face with a reality
that, unlike that kind and wise dragonfly, would not yield.
Pregnancy and me, childbirth and me, were not meant
to be. It was a few years in the making, but I finally figured it all out, went to China and emerged beyond victorious.
It was about a decade later that I heard a doctor at a National Infertility Survival Day® event deliver a presentation
on multiple miscarriages, in which she cited too much exercise as a contributing factor. Aha. 20 miles, indeed. Would have
been nice to know.
If you didn’t, now you do. Dragonflies are great. Miscarriages suck. Stay active and
healthy and balanced. Follow those dragonflies, but if you’re pregnant, especially if you’re considered high risk,
maybe one pretty butterfly, one cute kid on a trike, should suffice. Just for a few months.
No regrets, ultimately,
here. But it’s better to know. The second best part of the ride this morning? Coming home to a still-sleeping family,
my daughter a cocooned, sweet and blessed being. We make room for each other on the path all the time. It is sublime.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
This just in: Proud of my Alma mater!
4:18 pm edt
Sarah Lawrence College’s outstanding faculty tops The Princeton Review’s 2013 College Ranking
among all colleges and universities on the esteemed list.
Cheers to some of
the best, most inspiring years of my life.
We’re in that summer sweet spot
Yes, school is in session and my now-seventh-grader is settling in amidst new surroundings, new friends and
new challenges. This time of year is all about change for my family. Lots of birthdays and anniversaries. And, above all,
my daughter’s birthday (tomorrow) and Gotcha Day (10 days prior, August 12, 2001).
4:14 pm edt
The end of August is rife
with beginnings. Here’s hoping that yours are sweet. And hoping never to forget the magic moment when I first held her
in my arms, mother and daughter, mom and dad, family. Finally and forever.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Today in infertility history
11:30 am edt
Today is Mick’s birthday. Jagger, of course. “You can’t always get what you want,”
he consoled me years ago, as I nursed my infertile soul after a trip to the mall with a friend and her 4 year old son, a story
immortalized a decade ago on page 23 of Infertility Sucks! Keeping it all together when sperm and egg stubbornly remain apart.
Mick, “singing, it seemed, directly to me.”
What I didn’t know then but have
subsequently read is that Mick kind of was singing directly to me. And, perhaps, to you. It seems he wrote the song for Marianne
Faithful, who had recently miscarried.
Thank you, Mick on behalf of all of us who have experienced that loss.
Happy birthday. Hope you get what you need.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Gens X and Y discover infertility's perseverance
6:06 pm edt
is more like the common cold than the exotic disease it’s still so often perceived as. Not that it’s contagious,
of course. Just a lot more pervasive than many realize.
In one day this past weekend, I met one woman who has a close relative who has
been struggling for nearly a decade to have a baby. The same day, I reconnected with an old friend who has a close relative
just entering the same ring.
May they both find peace and happiness soon. May they find their way, have their way and have their say. May they
have the courage to share their stories some day, so the next generation of girls and women don’t take for granted what
their lives and their bodies and their relationships will deliver and how.
May Gens X and Y soon be rid of their struggles and
meet up at last with chromosomes X and Y in all their glory.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Through the past lightly
6:00 pm edt
Back to Boyd briefly. Finished her memoir earlier and
recognized the deep interconnections between infertility, self-image and self-esteem.
In some cases, this expands (no pun
intended) to include body image and weight management challenges, from a few pounds of dumpy, doughy, dumpling-like thigh
to serious disordered eating.
believe I’ve wrested control of my physical well being, achieving an elusive balance that enables me to eat well for
the long term.
Currently experiencing a condensed term of
condensed living as an apartment dweller with 95% of my life stuffed away in storage, I’m compelled to find quick easy
ways to “cook” without so much as turning on a stove, oven, dishwasher or fat cell.
Here’s one of my concoctions. You’ll need:
Egg whites (I use 6 Tbs.)
2 pieces of turkey bacon (optional)1 piece of 2% cheese (optional)
Spoonful of Walden Farms syrup (optional)
Zap the plate with Pam.
Pour in the egg whites.
turkey bacon across the center of the plate.
Place cheese where desired (somewhere on the plate, please).
into the microwave and cook for about 1:45 – 1:50 seconds.
Pour syrup over turkey bacon and enjoy!
This has the added allure of enabling us to mess with our own eggs for a change. It’s all
about taking charge.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Indignities and inadequacies
6:06 pm edt
Today’s post is for those who heard the news today, oh boy. That they will be having neither
a girl nor a boy — at least not yet.
I’m reading Pattie Boyd’s memoir, “Wonderful Tonight, George Harrison, Eric
Clapton, and me,” and just got to the part where she’s going through IVF in the early ‘80s.
She notes the “indignities”
of IVF and the pain of being the party at whom “the finger of inadequacy” points. Perhaps most evocatively, she
time I got as far as having an embryo implanted, I would be full of excitement and optimism, convinced that a new life was
growing inside me. Then I had to face up to the fact that it had failed.”
Well, at least she said, “it had failed.”
I know that in my case, it always felt like I had failed. Not my husband, not the doctors or nurses, certainly not the embryo.
Me. I had failed.
Over and over again.
And then like magic, I triumphed. Adoption adoption adoption. Salvation salvation salvation.
That was my answer. I’m not so presumptuous
as to insist it’s yours. Just know that there will be an answer. The indignities are relatively fleeting, enduring them
evidence of courage and determination.
The inadequacies are artificial and temporal. Our mistake is not in trying. There is no failure.
Disappointment is nothing but a well we can fill with hope. Fill your well. Be well. Move forward with dignity and
strength. Trust your worthiness.
All will be well. With hope.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
June 26: The "holy @&%#!" in "holiday" a real celebration
9:47 pm edt