They Are Not Here

The truth of losing my children to infertility

It was a sublimely gorgeous September day, the kind that is almost good enough to be summer, and definitely the kind that calls forth a gentle yearning to be somewhere other than where you are.

“This would be a great day for Greenport”, I said wistfully to my husband, as we headed out of our development to run an errand. He agreed and after a few moments of pause pointed out that he had a full staff at all of his locations that day. “Hmmm, and you know, I just shaved my legs….” I half sarcastically pointed out, somewhat startled that he actually seemed serious. About a minute later we were turned around, heading back to our house to get changed and run out for an impromptu day on Long Island’s north fork. We had quickly run through checklists in our head….businesses ok, the projects I’m working on could wait a day, and our house with no children in it would be just fine without us. (more…)

Finding Space In My So What Summer

The 42 year old infertile version of “what I did on my summer vacation”

It all started with a bunch of misconceptions, which, like this post, actually stemmed from the fact that deep down I’m an optimistic person. Shhh, don’t tell, I’ve got it so well cloaked in bitter sarcastic cynicism which I immaturely and openly blame on the fact that I’m from Massachusetts and have a Capricorn rising sign. Way to own it, I know.

When I started to see that assisted reproductive technology was going to fail us, I speculated a lot of things. Not so smart in a way, since “post ART failing” life is scriptless, not openly acknowledged by society, a bastion of extreme emotions, and given that the journeys vary greatly from individual to individual in this phase. But it is human nature to speculate, and if there’s one thing I know for sure it’s that I’m only human. (more…)