Pins and pining for something out of reach.

Two hours.


How much time was consumed while I was re-pinning and liking pins about infertility and childlessness on Pinterest?

Two hours!!


Staring at the pins on my infertility/childlessness board, questions popped up

Validation of my experience? 

Finding my happy space? 

Acknowledging that it did truly happen to me?

Seeking community to affirm that I'm not alone?


If so, why 369 pins?   Isn't that a 'tad' overmuch? 

I like to collect things, but thankfully, they are manageable. Definitely not a hoarder.

http://www.twirlit.com/2013/01/11/bizarre-craigslist-ad-allegedly-seeks-hoarder-roommate/

I have a strict list of rules that I follow, to reduce risk of saving everything.  One rule: if certain things don't fit on the shelves, or box, or  closet, I have to give one or two things up as a trade.

That's not so on Pinterest.   I find myself consumed, finding more and more.  Why?  I have other boards, such as horses, ice cream, cadbury eggs and Star Wars, yet I keep returning to infertility boards to see what pins had been posted, either for me to pin on my board or to click on 'like'.


That Infertility/Childlessness board used to have 502 pins, but to make me feel less obsessed, I broke it down into three infertility/childlessness boards: general, blogs and humor/sarcasm.

It has been a year and two months since the surgery, and it seems now these days I'm burying myself in  reading books on grief and living with childlessness, writing in my journal, painting, and staring outwards, feeling empty, and fanatically collecting pins for the infertility board on Pinterest, and all that.

What am I doing?

This little dark voice whispered, "If you had a child, you'd not be spending all this time online."  

Pesky voice.  However, there's the sense that is true.

Now that I found out that I couldn't  have children, I felt I had to give up a lot things that either I enjoyed or prepare myself to have children, such as going to zoos, (children), street fairs (children), art/craft classes and sewing/crocheting baby blankets, a lot that I did not realize until after the doctor told me I couldn't have children. And then children and babies were everywhere, and so I constantly bumped into 'em.  At malls.  At plays.  and big events like Derby festivals or music festivals.

So, I started to hide.  I stopped doing things I enjoyed especially when it would put me within distance of children.

I hid behind my laptop.  Books.  DVDS.  My porch garden.  Painting.  Hiking.  Pinterest was one of many reasons why it's easier to hide behind.  Same with reading blogs and ebooks.  Ditto for photography and writing in my blog.

It's easier for me to pin up things that I understand, to pin for something that is out of my reach, to verify that I have the reason to do so, to keep the pain to myself, yet telling the world in my way, I hurt.

It's easier to hide behind the curtain.

Now that I said it, I look outward at the outside, seeing the flowering trees, the darkening clouds and a couple walking their dog, and I find the world....  intimidating.

Substitute children with furry kids?

Noticing so many friends sharing photos of their kittens/cats and dogs on Facebook, there were a lot of moments when I found myself go 'oooo adorable!' or "ahhh, cute!"      Looking at videos on YouTube, with dogs howling, or of cats prancing, certainly lightens my mood.  I started to look into whether I could adopt a cat, specifically out of hypoallergenic cats (i.e. Devon or Cornish Rex, Birman, etc.) I found myself on several cat rescue websites, while wondering where I could put the litter box that the dogs couldn't have access to.

I stopped and realized I was thinking about acquiring another furry kid.  The worst part of the first anniversary's timeline is coming up in less than a week; in which I have already noticed some symptoms re-appearing lately.   Weeping for no reason;  tears in eyes if someone say something unthoughtful, such as "aren't you glad you don't have a kid?" while cleaning a mess after his kid; hypersensitivity to pregnant moms or new moms with babies in their arms; mooning over children books or clothes; and the black cloud above the head.  That tells me that I'm more vulnerable- which comes to the question of furry kids.

I tried to check blogs and Internet articles on whether there is a tendency for childless folks to get furry kids.  I hadn't success-  there's a certain amount of childless and infertile blogs and articles, and that goes for the furry kids....but nothing about *both* at same time.  

With the maternal instincts and the need to take care of something, it's certainly easy to meet that need with furry kids.  We have those dog daycare and schooling, we have pet insurance, Gods know some of us even go out of our ways to dress dogs like babies. Clothing boutiques, no less, to accommodate one's desire to humanize their furry kids.


Gods know that  my dad's family look odd at me when I tell them my dogs have to be with me if more than a few days- you see, Dad's family see dogs for working and hunting purposes, not pleasure or comfort (or forbid the thought, family) purposes. I wasn't like that two years ago. So, you get the idea.
Do we try to transfer love to furry kids-  dogs, cats, horses?  Don't get me wrong, but recalling the book "Falling for Eli" by Nancy Shulins certainly comes in mind.

After realizing that I have kept my dogs close to me since the beginning of the journey ending with the realization that I cannot have children, I found myself confronted with the question:  how would I react to either of the dogs' death?  After all they do not have a long lifetime like us human beings.  Would I want to get another dog after Lola?  Just thinking about it, I am overwhelmed by anxiety and fear.  And would I want to raise a kitten, treat him like a little human baby, and deal with his death when he becomes old or sick?

http://cattime.com/dog-and-cat-photos/funny-dog-pictures/no-more-kisses-please

For now, I'm reinforcing the reminder not to consider adopting any furry kids until well past March, when I'd be less vulnerable.

Readers, have you encountered similar situations like this?  If so, how did you handle this?

Remembrance

As y'all know, I had been away visiting family for a week last month.   Don't get me wrong, I love my family- but that trip was also very emotional.

Very emotional.

Grandma has dementia.  Relatives had told me how bad it is, although I kept hoping that it is not that bad as they said- I was thinking back to seniors that I helped taken care of at a senior center many years ago. 

Seeing my grandma, it was both bad and good. 

Relatives took me to see her at a memory care center.  Seeing me, Grandma brightened up as if I was the sun. She opened her arms, I entered them, feeling her love and warmth. It was so obvious she was  happy to see me after a year and half.    To relatives' surprise, Grandma tried to sign- and I recognized some of them- giving me hope that she did indeed recall how we communicate (I was dreading that she'd try to talk with me, forgetting our mode of communication).  We talked a bit, although we wrote forth and back (relative voiced for me.)  I observed that she had lost a lot of weight, she is much smaller.   I kept my tears inward, knowing that if I wept front of her, she'll cry too.  She's certainly empathic.    I left promising that I'll visit her again (daily). 

My aunt cautioned me that Grandma might not remember that I had already visited her, the next time I see her.    That reminded me of one senior consumer I worked with-  basically each day is the first day for her- just like in the movie the 50 first dates. I'd come in, not knowing what to expect from her.  Most of times, working with her was a good experience- most of times. 

The next time I saw Grandma-  she was equally so happy to see me- and I realized- she didn't remember seeing me yesterday.    

My heart broke.  I ached for her. I felt tears filling up in my eyes, and I fought hard not to let them spill out. 

 Watching her and Aunt K chattering,   I realized something.  no matter what, she still remembers loving me, even if it is anew daily. 

And that day when we had the interpreter (as I spoke of in a previous post, not being happy due to the not-qualified interpreter), again Grandma was so happy to see me, not recalling that we had been together the day before.  The interpreter did try to take up the conversation, telling of her own church interpreting or of her children in which I interrupted telling her that it's NOT about her.. It's about me and Grandma, It's our time together.  I found myself balancing my patience and tolerance of the interpreter who kept misunderstanding me, so I'd have to repeat myself two or three times, knowing that I'm losing time (and grandma's energy). 

At that time, I realized I had a gift that Grandma had given to me for years, and this gift is now time to share with her back. 

"Do you remember the house fire?"  Grandma asked. 

The relatives were puzzled- they were uncertain what she was talking about.

I nodded, "yes, which one- one in Henderson or your family home?"  She beamed, "my family home."  That was when she was a child.  I affirmed remembering what she told me.   She was so happy. 

She then talked about cooking certain foods when she was young, or of the pond near her home, and I validated, recalling them with her.  

You see, Grandma had told me her stories when we cooked in the kitchen, me being six years old.   She shared funny childhood stories as we shopped for clothes to fit my adolescent body. She disclosed to  me of  tough times as she grew up while I was visiting her from college.

No one had closely paid attention to her history throughout many years.  I may be deaf, but I listened and memorized her stories.  I wrote them down in my journals as I grew up.  And now I still remember them, now important to her now that she cannot remember her late years, but of only her childhood to when cousins and I were children.    

So those are her stories, her history, her life.  She is re-living her life in the stories, and that's what I can do, and I did.  I remember her stories. 


On the last day, I hugged her, not knowing if I will see her again.  So she knows something, and  we looked at each other.  She did not want to let go.   I glanced back at the door, and she was already disappearing into herself on the sofa. 

She is living in her memories, and I will write this down, another note in my journal, to memorize. 

Another part of Grandma for me to cherish in memory, even with the heartbreak. 

No matter what, they're putting a stranger into your arms.

The title of this post, came from the quote that appeared in my mind, referring to Katherine Heigl's quote about her mom, who had biological and adoptive children.  You might know Katherine by some of her movies- "Knocked up" or "27 dresses."  

Among farmland, a state big on families and being fruitful, I found myself attending a soccer tournament for my cousin's kids today- with kids everywhere, if not playing in the games, then watching or chasing after each other.    A woman holding a 6-month old baby was chatting with my cousin's wife, passing the baby to the cousin's wife as she did 'baby babble' over the baby, and I kept staring at the baby.  I hadn't been very close to a baby for a long and long time.

Before I could react, the cousin's wife gave me the baby. Impulsively, I held the baby to my chest. I felt suddenly "at peace" if that made sense.  Staring at the baby, her closing eyes, relaxing in my arms, the world disappeared around us.   No kids shouting or kicking at the ball  No adults chattering or laughing.  No wind or smell of popcorn.   The only existence in the world was me holding the baby.

http://www.goodtoknow.co.uk/wellbeing/129196/Bronchiolitis

Someone poked me, which startled me to look up- to see the aunt saying that we needed to move closer to a spot, to watch the cousin's daughter play.  The mother came to me, with arms/hands open, ready to take the baby back.

I found myself hesitant to let the baby go.  I was not finished.  I wanted to hold her more.

With a big sigh, I gave her to the mother.  We relocated to a spot closer to the field. I could see the cousin's daughter very involved in her soccer.


I managed to regain the baby and I played with the baby, cuddling the baby-  looking into her grey-blue eyes the fine honey-brown colored hair on top of her head and the fair skin in shade of her summer hat.

By sooner, the game was over, to my dismay.


I reluctantly handed the baby back to her mother.  


I don't know what to say.    A part of me is crying.   A part of me feels more human.  A part of me is yearning for something.  A other part feels tranquil.   All through this, I feel all together.  


A complete stranger in my arms, yet I felt I knew her.  All babies I knew, in my heart, trusting and giving grace to one.



That quote came to my mind "A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born."

         -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I'll be damned.

Two days ago, I admit, I had experienced a downpour of tears...

*thunder in background*
 Thanks for the cue. 


...when I got the message that my SIL's water broke.  She was in labor.   That was the first pregnancy/labor since I found out I couldn't have children, even more after the hysterectomy last February.

Hello, emotional breakdown again!

There was a pile of used tissues and empty water bottles multiplying through the day, and I was thinking- "When do I get a break?"   Swinging to the childless/infertility blog list I have on my blog, I was hoping to find support or some word of wisdom.

Path in Life's post, "Hiding" hit me very close.  She wrote about keeping to herself, distancing herself from friends and family with babies. She described how she is perceiving that-Maybe you could call it hiding in the short term, but in my mind it feel like it is more like preparing for the future.

Hmmm.  I hadn't truly thought it in a different viewpoint- but it does make sense...  

That's very simple.  


I'll be damned. 

To set up goals, to check things off list (like my bucket list that I shared in a previous post), and I can also look into doctoral programs (counseling psychology) and setting up my own non-profit business, incorporating skills and activities I love, such as working with survivors of domestic violence, walking labyrinths, re-discovering womanhood and oh yeah, world peace.  To prepare for the future, with what one already has, instead of feeling sorry for oneself on what one can't have.  

Granted, that's very much easy to say, especially with me newly childless- but this is a good step to start soon or later. :)



P.S. And oh yes, my new nephew is beautiful.  He is small in my brother's hands, but someone that I already find myself in love with- a little boy that we can explore together at the comic cons or renaissance faires when he's older, to read beloved childhood books to and introduce night full of  the stars and their stories (like Orion's story), to ride hardcore roller coasters with, a child that will find someone to talk with when he needs space from his parents (love his parents, but you know how it is...!), to pass on the love of books and nature.   I'll look forward to that when I see the new family at Christmas, with small steps, which is good.  That will give me time to prepare for the future, to hold him, and to teach him sign language.     I might as get to test the water by seeing if I can hold a friend's 2 months old baby and see how I can handle that sometimes soon.  Yes, it may mean I'll cry while holding the baby.... I'd like to hold my nephew when I see him in person during the holidays.

But hey, you know what?  I'm okay with that.

http://gregbenzphotography.com/family/family-photos-on-the-stone-arch-bridge/

In Honor of Childless Awareness Day

In Honor of Childless Awareness Day     You need to click this to read the note.....

I found this on Facebook, and read the note.  I came out thinking,

She nailed it.




I admire her for achieving to where she currently is...and I have faith that we will get there.... on our own time.

Close Encounters of the Fifth Kind

I'm sure some of y'all have noticed the movie 'Close Encounter of the Third Kind" showing up on television lately.

For folks who don't know ufology, there are five kinds of encounters when it comes unidentified flying objects (UFOs);

First: visual sight of an unidentified flying object

Ooo, oh look!

Second: Visual sighting, with physical effects on animate and inanimate objects.  This could include seeing an UFO, and experiencing sunburn, burning of objects (wood, grass, etc) for two examples. 


Third:  Sighting of aliens either inside or outside of the UFO (picture the big-eyed elf-like alien like in that movie).


Now, that's not what I'm talking about right now.  I'm thinking about the fifth kind, (I'm ignoring the fourth, which means human abduction by aliens for medical reasons, which is scary in its own). 


The fifth kind, as in the purposeful meeting/contact (voluntary/conscious) between the humans and extraterrestrial intelligence. 


Wait, bear with me...  I know you're starting to wonder what is all this about? I thought it's an infertility/childless blog!


I'm wondering, I'm thinking... and I have to ask y'all...  


How do you know when you're ready to look at a baby without breaking down?


How do you know when it's okay to hold a baby and not have tears running down your cheeks?


How do you peer into a baby's eyes and smile without shadows in your eyes?




How?  That's what I'm starting to wonder.  I do see the babies out there. It's easy to see 'em as UFOs, since you won't see 'em again.  


What if you don't want to do that anymore?  What if you want to get closer and touch the soft skin?  To reach out and coax a smile on the baby's face?  


What if you ache to make close encounters of the fifth kind with babies? But you're afraid of getting your heart broken repeatedly.  How do you do encounters with that risk? 

Green parenthood

How would you know when you are ready?

New Orleans

 New Orleans

New Orleans, how breath-taking you are.  How beautiful you are.  How lively you can be.  Laughter.  Passionate hugs. Music of sax and violin, jazz, blue and brass carrying on the air.  Breezes with scent of salt and chicory coffee.  Artwork and jewelry glittering in the sunshine. Ghosts whispering around the shuttered windows.  A path memorized for victims of a hurricane not yet forgotten.

New Orleans.  How much I miss it.  How much I felt so alive there.  Home.  How much I'd do anything to return there.  Some day I will be there and not leave.  There was a path I walked and I intend to walk there again.

A path was opened raw and new with the Hurricane Katrina slamming into New Orleans, August 29, 2005.  I was there in spirit with the Deaf community, suffering the trauma of Hurricane Katrina and flooding and then the double trauma of ignorance and abuse with being Deaf in the aftermath.  With my charm and determination, local people opened their hearts and gave what they can, from 'All from a Dream's comic books, Hampden Branch Library's books, to the local deaf community's donations of sheets, pans, hearing aids, TTYs, and kitchen supplies.  Despite my own trauma that occurred almost two months after Hurricane Katrina, I wanted to make sure that the survivors got their packages.  They did. The path was completed.

There was a labyrinth built at the Audubon Park, built a year after Hurricane Katrina, to remember the dead, the lost.  The labyrinth was built with hearts heavy with grief and lightened bit by bit with perseverance and joy, completed with tears and love. I knew I needed to walk the labyrinth.  When? How?  I did not know.  I waited.

A path was opened with a surprising offer.  I jumped to the opportunity with dearest friend, traveling to New Orleans. Sassy juice and rowdy laughter between us.  Among ghost-hunters and demon-slayers, I found fellow spirits.  Hearts alike to me, minds open, some went along on the path, both in packs and by the lone wolf.  Among the confusing roads to Audubon Park, the labyrinth was hidden among the oaks with moss spilling into the grass.

The labyrinth is there.   Awaiting.  Waiting for my foot to step on it.    I shook my sandals off, letting the bare feet kiss the smooth stones that create the labyrinth.  The breeze bringing the life, the ghosts and the stillness interacting together.   A blank journal opened with fingers and a pen traveling from path to paper.

Where do I go from there?

I feel in limbo here- sunshine and clouds playing peek-a-boo- there are ant hills, silence in nature, sun so bright.  So many branches, twigs and leaves gracing the stones. The path is open- the stones are cool beneath my steps.  Barefoot to Mother Earth.  To feel Her heartbeat, I am in her womb of stone.  Growing and bidding my time, my breathing, knowing there is time for me  I need to be patient and to watch and watch.  It is not yet for me to act.  The Nature is connected here- the fire, the air, earth, water and spirit- breezing loving upon me.

Where do I go from here?

Wait. Wait. It is not your time- your time is not here in New Orleans- not yet.  Go learn, go love, go explore.  Not yet in New Orleans.

Go to school. Seek your place among students, you will be a teacher, both in the classroom and out. You will teach life you will give hope and presence in the speedy path of people.  Teach them to slow down, to smile, to embrace.

You have a world of love, trust and strength awaiting you.  Challenges and tears await you.  Heart break and grief awaits you.

Where do I go from there?

Grow.  Walk the path, wipe your tears away.  You do not stay where you live.  It is not your heart. It takes joy out of you.  You are on the bridge, looking down at the water wondering when you let go and go into the cold water.  It is not your time.

Where do I go from here?

Go back to school.  They will take you.  Trust in them.  Trust in Me.  Trust in love.

Where do I go from there?

Patient, patient.  You are impatient.  You let worry block you.  Your fear of stepping on the wrong foot.  Stop.  Chill.  Trust yourself.  Love yourself first.  Trust in the spirits.  There are spirits looking upon you- they are here with you as We are.  You are closer to them than you think.  They will protect you, you can see and listen to them if you open your heart.  Accept what is given to you, keep holding the hands, let them guide you as they have been guiding you since your first death.

Where do I go from here?

Go back to school. Life rich in experiences and love is at hand only if you stay on the rocky path. You have more tools than you think.  Trust in them.  Look with your hands, your eyes, your heart.  They are there only if you look.Look at the sunshine. Feel the wind!  Feel the bug biting your arm.  Feel the hard stones beneath your toes.  The green grass dancing in the breeze.  The curve of the path as it should be in your life.  Long and short  They are lessons for you if you listen to your heart and slow down.

Where do I go from there?

People, who will love and hate you.  Love wins.  Great loss, breath stolen from you. Heart bleeding.  Many will slow you down.  Patience.  Patience.  Believe in yourself. We believe in you. Keep going, the path is not  of anger.  You are not tied.  You are not trapped.  Trust yourself and we are there for you.  You well know what you see when you see.  You are on the journey. The curves, long and short, that is life.  No short cuts awash for you.  You suffer, and you love.  You cry and you live.

Where do I go from here?

Take yourself.  Walk.  Seize what is offered.  Now remember, remember, we will be with you as always.  Remember us.

I remember.  And I hold the lessons close to my heart, and is preparing to step on the new path.



As written during the walk on the labyrinth, March 25, 2011.
http://www.labyrinthataudubonpark.org/

All photos were taken by me on March 25, 2011.

Bucket List

Reading the post, This Path in Life; To Do list, the author was talking about her to do list/resolution list. Her concerns was about production and finding motivation to complete.  I totally get her.   I had set up a bucket list last year, (and reassured folks that I wasn't dying, just that I want to leave the bucket list open for the rest of my life to finish without rushing.)  So I decided to check my old blog's post that I had put up last year.  I was both pleased and resigned at the same time looking at the items.

Well, at least I'm not in any hurry-

Learning
Ghost Hunting 101 at University of Louisville/Delphi Center ( Completed in May 2011)
Writing/publishing a book. (In process- a nonfiction)
Sand Tray techniques
Learn how to make a tube drum (January 2011)
Advanced labyrinth facilitating (Level 2)
Disaster Mental Health/Red Cross

Self-Care
Walk 100 labyrinths. (So far, 13 in IN, LA, KY, DC, MD 2011, 3 in 2012)

Stop being the peacekeeper and stand up for myself. (In process)
Make a list of things that make me happy- small, big, profound, simple (March, 2011)
List about what you really like about yourself. (ongoing)
Do an unplugged day at least 15 days per year. (ongoing)
Ask friends to do compliments about me, (words, artwork, whatever!) and make a poster.


Books
The Happy Book (In process)
Feminism: The Essential Historical Writings
He's a Stud, She's a Slut and 49 Other Double Standards Every Women Should Know
The Feminine Mystique (April, 2011)
Sexual Politics
All About Me.
I am more than my infertility.

(the list is long..I'll keep 'em on Goodreads- you can look 'em up.)
Make a list of your favorite childhood books and explain why you love them.

Community
See The Vagina Monologues
See the plays-
  "Into the Woods"
  "Les Miserables"
  "Wicked"
  "Mamma Mia"
Participate in Vagina Monologues (If you know V-Day w/ deaf themes in 2012 or 2013, ring me up!)
AIDS Walk (September, 2011)
Habitat for Home in New Orleans
Set up a community activity of creating a labyrinth of shoes, then donate shoes to a women's shelter
Do a cheer-up package for a friend or three. (Completed in April and December 2011, and February 2012.) 

Art
Create a mosaic of a labyrinth.
Learn how to make bead jewelry
Paint again. (so far, 17 paintings!)

Start and finish a quilt.  (June 2011)
After going to an event of your favorite activity (comic, science fiction, romance convention) and get freebies, do a bulletin board with the collection.
Scrapbook on collection of postcards (March 2012)
Make a book of favorite recipes to send to a close friend
Donate some art to an organization (September 2011)
Do a room in purple and silver


Health
Exercise 2-3 times a week.(ongoing)
Go to the park with the dogs once-twice a week.(ongoing)
Make healthy dishes from scratch (ongoing)
Do yoga at least twice a week (working on it)


Charity
Volunteer for clean-up at a national park (July 2011)
Donate hair for Locks of Love and in honor of my aunt, cancer suvivor. (No luck! Will try again)
Freecycle listing of the television and entertainment center (May 2011)
Donate money to a non-profit organization fighting domestic violence (February 2011)
Provide my time and canvas labyrinth to an organization with DV/SA survivors to learn self-care and love.
Donate money to Green Project- New Orleans
Make cookies and donate to a soup kitchen.
Make a dish to donate to Occupy Louisville


Just for fun of it
Kentucky Renaissance Faire
Get a tattoo of triple labyrinth on the shoulder
Get the frog tattoo refreshed/re-colored.
Try hot balloon riding.
Try a new food each month. (ongoing)
Send beanie dolls to American soldiers (anysoldier.com) (January, 2011)
Take pictures around the town, with quirky things and create artwork from photos.(ongoing)
Go naked, fingerpaint/paint the walls (in the shower) and self.
Watch a meteor shower at the wee hours of August (August, 2011)
Attend a Comic book convention.
Go to a Science-fiction con.
Have your 'gnome'(my stuffed Erif Horse) at weird places taken with photos! (In process)
Blow bubbles at your porch and observe visuals through the bubbles.
Play with playdoh- do the 10 things with them (your name, an image of yourself, cupcakes, animals, landscape, and so on.)(January 2011)
Make the perfect kid's day menu and eat the food on the menu- you ARE a kid that day!
Dragon-con in Atlanta, GA
Comic-Con in San Diego, CA

Vacations/Trips
Wisconsin, (January 2011, June 2011)

New Orleans, LA (March 2011)
Nashville, TN (country music sightseeing)
Waverly Hills Sanatorium (October 2011)
Star Trek Exhibition/Louisville Science Center (February 2011)
Frazier International Historical Museum (February 2012)
Ventriloquist museum- Fort Mitchell, KY (only museum about ventriloquists in the world)
National Underground Railroad Museum, Cinn, OH.
Gravity Hill in Princeton, KY.
Kansas City, KS/MO (December 2011)
Pet Haven, Shepherdsville, KY.
Centralia, PA
Ireland
Nova Scotia, Canada

Like I said, I'm not in any hurry...    I'm taking a time out to focus on myself, although I won't say no to blowing bubbles and painting now and then...

Hope that gives you ideas-   is there anything you would like to do, on whims, dreams, small and large, short and long-term?  Share, if you'd like.

Not sure. (3 of the 4 parts)

This follows up to "Without Answers", two months before the surgery.

That day was both hope and despair, hand-in-hand.

Almost a month after getting the MRI, I went to a women health center nearby.  I was nervous not knowing what to expect but that I had to see an OB/GYN.  I was relieved to see that there was an interpreter-  not familiar to me. Much better, since it's easier for me to 'hold up' without me knowing the person either professionally or as a friend.

The interpreter and I got to know each other a bit, as she needed to know my signing style and way of communication before we went in for the check-in with the nurse.   In the nurse station, I noticed a poster of 9 months of the fetus growth- you know that one tiny speck at first month, to 6th month cantaloupe-sized, to 9th baby-sized on the wall.    I looked and wondered to myself if I'd get to experience pregnancy.  Reminded myself, "That's why you're here now."

The interpreter and I entered the room where the OB/GYN doctor will meet us.  She came in all smiles and cheerful.  She stated that she had reviewed the tests that was done on me from the other months, and she cheerfully said, "I think it is just a fibroid, and we can fix it."  I felt a great sense of relief, and I asked her is it even possible to have children with fibroids or afterwards- she said "yes it is possible, if we can make sure if the fibroid is not where we don't want it to be." She added that some pregnancies were successful even with fibroids without complications.  Hope grew.

The doctor said that despite that we had two ultrasounds in the past, she wanted another with "an ultrasound technician who is very experienced in identifying fibroids"- which would help them determine where the fibroid was, and the size.

The interpreter and I found ourselves in another waiting room.  We chatted a bit; I was starting to feel hopeful, that there is a chance for me to have children.

The ultrasound technician fetched us- she said, "it'd probably take ten-fifteen minutes then we'd be out" with a smile.    I laid on my back, she made sure that the gel was warm.  She put the transducer on my stomach, and pointed at the flat television up on the wall where I could see it, "you can see it as I see it on my monitor down here" with a smile.    I thought, "great, I'd see the fibroid, and perhaps later on I'd get to see a baby in my uterus too here."    

Within 10 minutes, with the nurse's face becoming sober.   

20 minutes, pictures were taken more than I expected. 

30 minutes, the technician said, "can you wait in the waiting room and I get the doctor to see the photos?"

I knew. 

I went into the waiting room with the interpreter.  I pretended not to see while the technician brought the doctor.  Some minutes passed.  The doctor left and brought back another doctor, older than her with her.  All three persons in that room, and me in the waiting room, and there was anxious tension.  

The doctor came to me, and asked if we can talk with her in her office.   The hallway felt like a mile. 

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As we entered the doctor's office, she turned to say, "We are not sure whether it is really a fibroid or something else."  I stared at her-  she continued, explaining that the technician is experienced with identifying fibroids, but this cyst does not have the fibroid characteristics that she is familiar with.  

"With that in mind, I feel this is out of my expertise. I would like to refer you to someone who is an expert in this. She can help you better than I can."  

I nodded in silence.  

I found myself in another room, this time while a woman called this department to set up an appointment.  She handed me a business card, and I looked at it with blind eyes.  

I walked to my car and I sat in the seat.   I looked at the card again, seeing the name of the services, and specifics- Gynecologic oncology beneath it.  

Gynecologic oncology, and that meant nothing to me. I did not understand, nor wanted to.  

  

Dreams

Before I go on about what I was starting to find out, starting in September, 2011; I want to tell you a bit about me and my dream of having children.

I grew up, independent as encouraged by family, to be self resilient.  I did that despite the frustrations of communication.  Why communication?  I am Deaf.  Yes, you read it right, I'm Deaf.    I use both English and American Sign Language.  I loved to read as a kid, and I still do.  What I didn't like to do- was playing with dolls (like Barbie or baby dolls), dress-up or house as a kid.  I have read of women saying they dreamed of having kids while playing with dolls, changing diapers or feeding the dolls, even collecting numerous baby/child dolls and clothes when they were girls.    Me, I didn't like dolls, but for stuffed animals (horses and wolves) and Breyer horses. 

I had been a tomboy as long as I could remember, and it helped that most children in the neighborhood were boys, and most of my cousins were boys (except for one girl on mom's side, and two girls on dad's side).   I'd grab my bike to go riding with the boys, exploring the world out there, playing Jedis vs Empire (our version of Cowboys and Indians), climbing trees, pretending I'm on another world fighting dragons while rescuing princesses or towns, etc.    Granted, I did play a bit of Barbie with my girl cousin, only if we could include Breyer horses so we'd have a doll riding the horse, "Horsie, horsie!  I need to ride, so I'd rescue Ken!" 

Nevertheless, when I could see real babies during my childhood, I'd dash toward the baby just like a bee to honey.  Looking at the mother, wiggling my hands, my eyes questioning.  Often than not, the mother would smile and hand the baby into my arms (or on my lap if I was sitting).   I loved holding the tiny hands, staring at the sleeping baby's face, smelling the baby powder.  I loved carrying the baby and would try to play with the baby "goo-goo" babbling, laughing, and peek-a-boo, before I'd reluctantly hand the baby back to the mother.

Throughout my young adulthood, so many friends exclaimed how their babies would be fussing and screaming, and I'd come and say, "hand 'im over here."  Once the baby settles in my arms, something amazing occurs.... silence, or soft cooing.  You could hear a pin drop in this content silence.   Babies would curl up in my arms, studying my face as if they are seeing something that is there that makes them calm. 

My jobs throughout years included care-giving and supervising group homes, rehabilitation instructor and other human services that included working with clients, the range covering from mental illnesses to development disabilities.  People, either co-workers, supervisors, or parents/guardians told me the very same thing, "you are a natural!" as they look at the clients who had caused high turnovers among staff, now calm and self confident, or at least starting to become semi-independent.  "You have so much patience.  You listen, you believe in them, even when they didn't believe in themselves in the first place."  Often I had heard "you're a mother hen!" when I'd walk in to team meetings or staff meetings with my nose flared, with angry determination to advocate for the clients in whatever they need toward independence, autonomy and support.  "You should have children, you'd be a good mother!" 

I'd smile and say, "Thanks- but not now.  But I'll get to that later!" 

I imagined that I'll get to experience motherhood, to explore the swelling of my belly, the hormones and morning nausea and at last, to hold the baby in my arms after labor.  I'd walk through the baby section at department stores and smile while imaging my baby wearing this piece of clothes, or playing with that toy.  I touched baby comforters and quilts, dreaming what the nursery would look like, and what the kid could want in his room while growing up. I looked at books, with hoping that the child would like to read too, me introducing her to worlds at her fingers.  I hiked and fished, thinking "it'd be more fun with the kid, seeing the world through his eyes!"  I handled an adolescent godchild or two, with their attitudes, with delight, knowing that it is good practice for when I'd have a child growing into a teenager. I saved things from my childhood in goal of passing them on to my kid, knowing that they'd even like that, such as my childhood books or the quilt that was given to me as a baby from my great grandmother.   I would look at cousins or friends' babies, holding them, kissing them, and think, "I can't wait to have my own baby!"

Guess I shouldn't have put all my eggs in that basket.

Plans

Throughout my life, I have had a variety of dreams like everyone.  I dreamed of being a writer and a biologist.  I dreamed of living in New York City or London.  It was a dream of mine to go into education for doctorate studies in psychology and counseling, or to teach about mindfulness and holistic self-care.  As everyone have dreams like that, less or more, including love, marriage, children and seeing surprise dawning upon a child at peek-a-boo, with laughter following.   That's what I dreamed, too.

I admit that I had long term planning, as organizing as going to school, finding a satisfying career, traveling and exploring worlds out there, settling down and having a child or two, with or without a partner. That's how I worked it out. 
Twenty years ago, I was too young- there was so much life offering to me, and I wanted to seize that without feeling obligated to have a child that society expects of us women.  I also knew I had a lot of things to work on, especially with healing spiritually and emotionally. Not something that'd be easy to do in a few months or even years. 

Ten years ago, I felt it was not the right time, especially with me in middle of schooling, being productive with my career and exploring worlds out there.  After that, experiencing a traumatic life-changing incident where I had to re-learn to put socks on, feed myself and walk, all over again, I realized life is too short.

With that in mind, I went head-long to complete goals, finishing graduate schooling, finishing learning of wondrous training I had always dreamed of getting, traveling through England and Wales, and experiencing a lot of extraordinary things that many people would never experience in all their lives.

But of children, I told myself, "I need to find someone I can trust and love, with communication and support. As a team. I will not marry someone just to have children, which I felt for me, is selfish- using the spouse for the purpose of breeding only.  If I cannot find someone with belief of equality, balance and support, I will do it by myself, somehow."

I was ready last summer, starting to brainstorm what I need to do to get pregnant. A plan was developing with joy and eagerness to see it all bud into bloom.

"The best laid schemes of mice and men / Go often askew."
John Steinbeck

Cards

After days, even weeks, I had been juggling on whether to write a blog on my experiences from the beginning and what I'm going through currently:  infertility.  Just one word, but it is something fearsome especially if one wants children and fear, "Will I ever have children?"

I have looked at many infertility blogs and realized something remarkable yet different.  I sympathize with the women and men struggling with inferility, nevertheless they still have....

Hope.

By that what I mean, they go through medical procedures to figure out what's wrong, and to find options in increasing their fertility; which may include taking fertility drugs, IVF (in vitro fertilitization), surgery, artifical inseminsation, gamete intrafalopian transfer (GIFT), Zygote intrafallopian transfer (ZIFT), intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI), and donor eggs/sperms.  Surrogacy is included as well.

Hence, there are options, giving the sense of hope that somehow, one will pull up a good hand of cards and end up having a newborn in their arms. 

The difference for me is that I had a 'deck of cards' not yet opened, and then I didn't have it anymore. 

So you're welcome to walk the path with me as I figure how this is going to affect my life.