Sitting with my feet in the stirrups things were notably different from the year prior. My first visit to the gynecologist six months after we had lost our children, though preempted by good “I’m getting back to taking care of myself again” feelings, ended up being served with a big fat panic attack. Read more →
I try to be the better human, I really do. Today was no different as my eyes passed over the Huffington Post Parents article, “20 Ways Motherhood Changes Your Perspective.”
I fought the temptation. “Don’t read it, S. You’ve got things to do”. My (supposed) higher minded approach to rebuilding my new life I didn’t chose is to focus on myself, not on what’s going on around me.
Apparently, that goes better on some days than on others. And to be honest, my raw material in this department is pretty shabby. So I succumbed, gambling that this might be an opportunity to vent some justly earned smugness. Read more →
Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, a friendly (although at times not so much) neighborhood infertile, to whom we’ll inconspicuously refer as Sarah Chamberlin, was perusing the IF blogosphere. This led her to an article in a major publication on the lifetime scars of infertility. Excited to see her tribe front and center in mainstream social media, she clicked and read. Chamberlin was at first satisfied by a worthwhile article, however her spirits rapidly dampened as she stared at the vast cesspool of humanity comment section ahead of her. Read more →
Yes, normally I’m perplexed by society’s indifference to early child losses, especially when coupled with all of the mommy mania out there. I think what many might label as “serious thoughts” about the hows and whys of life, or more so lately the lack thereof. I’ve been accused of being too long winded, too divergent, too intense. I’m down with mindfulness and feeling every nook and cranny of my emotions, especially the taboo ones.
But right now, I ponder only this:
Given that I’m an involuntarily childless infertility survivor going through my second Mother’s Day without my children, at what time should I start drinking?
I don’t ask much from you, my dear readers, but I could really use your input on this. The absence of script for this kind of life is really getting to me.
So whadaya think? Noon too early?
I’ve got a nice bottle of rose champagne (a gift for my b-day back in Feb) that needs some attention. Granted, I feel anyone who has lost their children should be bathing in the shit instead, but alas I’ll be drinking it.
Yeah I get it – there are more noble things I could be doing on this not so fine day. Feeling my feelings as I did last year, reaching out to others and yada yada yada. It just so happens that not giving a shit is something I’m also able do quite well every now and then.
What about 11:00 am? Any opinions?
I leave you with my Facebook post for the day. I pretty much never post on Facebook. I’ve made no bones about the fact that avoiding humans has been one of my tickets to surviving infertility. But I might actually be peeking out from under my rock.
I said might.
So rather than re-emerge on FB (otherwise known as the fiery depths of hell in IF circles) with a benign comment about the weather, or some fake holiday oriented cordiality, as a more intelligent person would do, I threw down this instead:
On this day that is still shamelessly embalmed in the exclusion of so many, I pass on this quote:
“I believe that in the same way we need species diversity to ensure that the planet can go on, so we need this diversity of affection and diversity of family in order to strengthen the ecosphere of kindness.” Andrew Solomon
On this day I grieve.
And on this day, to all of the aunts and stepmothers, to all moms of alpha pregnancies, moms of miscarried pregnancies and stillborns, to everyone who participates in the welfare of children, child free by choice people who contribute greatly to this world, and every person without children who has relentlessly nurtured me throughout my adulthood, to people who have lost their potential children to tragic and unfortunate circumstance, to all my fellow brothers and sisters in loss and especially to every parent without children out there for whom I know all too well how hard this day is, I salute you. My infertility survivor child free not by choice family of two salutes you all.
Oh, did I mention I practically have no friends since I’m never on FB? So that whole heart outpouring was for like 13 people. I’m a genius.
Long Island, New York – A childless couple approaching middle age is purging their home of all TTC (trying to conceive) paraphernalia. It is a wistful tragic decrescendo from almost four years of trying to conceive that was plagued with one surgery and ten failed fertility treatments, most of which was paid for out of pocket. “It’s in every drawer, shelf, closet, everywhere I look. Our home is over-run with items that promised a positive outcome”, Sarah Chamberlin, 42, laments. As a result, everything connected with trying to conceive in any way must be gotten rid of.
Having decided this is no way to live, Chamberlin embarks on transforming their cesspool of unrequited hope with the determination of a Hoarder’s professional organizer. Read more →
“Don’t use the word infertile, your uterus will retract from the trauma. Remember, she hears you.” As it turned out, the Maya abdominal fertility massage alternative to other higher powers was not all that much more appealing to me. I determined early on the idea that one of my very own organs demanded I be a good little girl was NOT going to be a useful tool in my quest for a child.
“My uterus ain’t that dumb” happened to be my first ponderance on the issue.Read more →
An infertility survivor runs into contentment on her birthday……..
Oh, the unpredictability emitting journey through holidays while in the midst of a grieving process…….many of us know it well. Often an excruciating odyssey, dicey even when definable can be a best case scenario. There are many valid ways to maneuver oneself through this, though for me personally (and please don’t be shocked), I prioritize allowing whatever comes up emotionally coupled with the ever so important art of self – preservation. Read more →
“Hey Honey, look……it says here that getting your nails done is one way to ease the stress of infertility! That’s what the pamphlet from the fertility clinic says, so it MUST be TRUE!”
Years ago this notion held exciting prospects. Now an infertility survivor and IVF veteran, Sarah Chamberlin, resident of Long Island, NY, is well aware of all of the “expert” tips for surviving one of the greatest life crisis’ a person could be stuck with.
It is just days before their first Christmas grieving the loss of their children as Chamberlin slogs to the nail salon to get her nails done for her husband’s staff party. Now all the wiser from five IUI’s, one surgery, and five rounds of IVF, she claims to take a “more realistic view” of things. “Yeah, this’ll help, this’ll help like taking a nap helps one recover from a nuclear explosion.” Read more →
A few weeks ago I had my first significant medical procedure since stopping fertility treatments nine months prior. Unexplained excessive gum recession forces me into the dentist’s chair every now and then for a session of numbing, cutting, and stitching. Being that I spent the vast majority of my 2013 in the arena of reproductive medicine, my jaunt with the periodontist was a year and a half overdue. Read more →