Lame liners

Since the move, I’ve been using Facebook (Fb) to keep friends and family updated on our whereabouts. Consequently, I’m on there more often than usual.

I’ve come to HATE it when status lines are written like mysterious little “teasers”, fishing for attention. I’ve noticed that, more often than not, these vague statements are usually announcing a pregnancy. I know I’m an angry, bitter, barren woman, but c’mon, just come right out and say it. Obviously, by putting it out there in Fb-land, you WANT to announce your pregnancy. Just freakin’ announce it!

Yes, it’s a happy time for them, and in time, I will lose my bitter edge and maybe acknowledge their happiness in a more socially appropriate fashion. Until then, statuses like:

1. Jane Smith will not tell… but is very, very happy.

2. John Smith has a happy secret.

3. Jane Doe has TWO surprises.

4. John Smith won’t tell. But he and Jane can’t wait.

5. Jane Smith: change is coming!

…are LAME.

If you want to keep it a secret, keep it a secret. If you want to announce it, announce it. If you’re trying to keep all of us in suspense, hoping we’re wracking our brains trying to solve your status riddle, forget it. It’s both annoying and unoriginal.

That’s all I want to rant about today. Yes, I do know about the “hide” button and have been making liberal use of it as I sit here and stew in my jealousy.

Bah humbug.

Landed

The first photo is what we left, two weeks ago. The second photo shows what we landed in, several hours later.

It was -31° with the windchill where we boarded the plane, and +46° where we landed. DH and I couldn’t shed layers fast enough!

We spent a few days with my aunt (the one we stayed with during IVF treatments) then spent a few days on the West coast for a quick visit to DH’s sis. The timing worked out so that I was able to attend my graduation (no more teachers, no more books!). Finally, we flew back and are settling in with DH’s family until we can find a home to call our own.

The last two weeks have gone by like a whirlwind. I’m definitely experiencing a bit of culture shock. Note the snow and untouched landscape in the first picture taken the plane took off and compare it with the greenery, fields, roads and buildings (civilization!) in the second picture, a few minutes before we landed. Our lifestyle had been at a slower pace. Up until recently, this has felt like a “vacation” but it’s now sinking in that I’m not going back to the place I still call “home.”

…and, I am officially unemployed as of yesterday. YIKES! Except for the boxes of books and other miscellaneous bits we couldn’t sell, we’re no longer tied to a home, car, furniture or most of our “stuff.” I sure hope it leads to new beginnings.

Moving Day

Where did the month go? In a few hours, we get on the plane and start our new life. I’m really going to miss this quiet place, so far removed from the rest of the world, and the close friends I’ve made. Then again, I’m sort’ve excited to see how the rest of the story unfolds…

Countdown

The countdown is on to our departure date. I’m starting to feel a bit better than I did during the last post: I honestly think the PMS is getting worse and worse as I inch closer to menopause. Fun times.

With the boxes accumulating and the rooms emptying out, the fact that we’re leaving this community is beginning to hit home. Most of the time, it just feels like I’m going on vacation… but as I say goodbye to my favorite people and special places, I feel a sudden panic that makes me want to cling to what’s familiar. I’ve been able to experience a lifestyle few people get to see, and for this, I feel very fortunate.

But, somewhere along the way, I became the one who lost the baby… the one who can’t have kids… and this is how I’ve come to define myself. It may not be how others see me, but it’s definitely how I see myself. I recognize that this isn’t healthy.

As much as I’ll miss this place and the great friends I’ve made, I have to admit that I’m looking forward (and hopeful) to whatever life brings us next. The opportunity to lose myself in a larger city is appealing.

This move is a nice distraction. Although it’s tiring and we both have aching muscles by the end of the day, it’s a nice break from the regular infertility obsession. Hopefully, it’s also burning a few extra calories, so I can get back to my “city” shape (ha ha!), as I shed the layers of puffy, cold-weather outdoor gear for more fashionable urban-wear!

Frustration

We have another couple of weeks before the big move. Fortunately, we managed to sell our house and we’ve got a lot of packing done. These are really good things, yet, I feel like I’m spiraling into another dark period.

It’s just too hard to figure out how to start the whole adoption process all over again once we move. It’s a whole new set of rules, and training, and policies. We had hoped to adopt here, where generally, it’s a bit easier to make contact with women who wish to place their children, as the villages are small. Once we’re living away from here, this option will be more difficult, if not impossible, and we’ll soon be one of the many couples in the “system” that’s completely new to us.

I’ve emailed a few adoption practitioners in the area we’ll be moving to and have been asking questions. It seems like there’s very little I can do to get started until we are settled. It’s a bit frustrating not being able to DO anything, and I feel like I’m back at the beginning where I was mad at this body that failed me, mad at the world that keeps reproducing and utterly out-of-control. It seems like whenever we make steps to move forward, or have a little bit of hope, the rules change and we’re sent to the back of the line again.

Maybe this post makes no sense. Maybe I just need a good cry. It’s definitely been one of those weeks.

Location, location, location

I have been a terrible blogger lately. In my defense, I have to say that the last couple of weeks have been crazy.

With the move date breathing down our necks, our task list is becoming more and more urgent. One of the bigger items is the sale of our home. There are no real estate agents here so we have to sell our home ourselves. Six days after putting up posters, we had two offers. Let me tell you, it’s not that easy to sell your house. We were attached to both couples, but in the end, we had to disappoint one of them. That’s not a nice thing. However, the couple moving in was over the moon, so I guess the whole thing is rather bittersweet.

I’ve loved my home. It’s on the water (my view can be seen above this) and every corner and every wall has a memory of our renovation with parents and in-laws. I would never recommend doing renos yourself: I’m just not that type of woman. Unfortunately, when you live in a town in the middle of nowhere, contractors are rare… so there’s a lot of “us” in this house.  Though I can’t look at the little room across the hall without a pang of sadness (I had always imagined that would be a nursery for our little one), these walls kept me safe from the fertile world when I was grieving our loss.

So, check one big item off the task list.

Now, my mind is free to stress over the prospect of starting the adoption process all over again, as we cross state/territorial borders. Stay tuned as my neurotic side takes over…

Moving!

After many years in this remote village, my husband and I are moving. It’s definitely a bittersweet turn of events. I’m happy that we’ll be back in a city, not too far from family. I’m a bit relieved that I’ll be out of a fertility hotspot, where the birth rate far exceeds most of the continent. But I am a bit sad that I’ll be leaving my ‘life less ordinary’ in a place that has no roads leading to it. I count myself lucky to have lived here for so long. Life was pretty simple (except for the infertility). I made some really good friends here and I can’t really face the fact that they won’t be a part of my everyday life.

And in other news, last week, we almost had all of our dreams come true. A friend called us to say that a woman they know wanted to place her baby with another family once it was born. The baby was due in a week, and they were wondering if we would be interested. Of course we said yes! Unfortunately, they haven’t heard back from the woman, which is fine. I knew it was best to hold off on getting excited (though I really was), and so much could have happened: she might have decided to keep her baby, a family member may have agreed to raise him/her…? Anyways, it’s better that we never did get to meet her, because then we would’ve really gotten excited but I guess the fates have decided this one wasn’t meant for us. It might have been nice to have been able to start a new life with a new addition to the family, but it wasn’t meant to be. So, that’s ok, we’re no worse for wear.

Oh well… no time to dwell. I have tons to do before the big move at the end of October.

Barrenland Bitterness

Sorry I haven’t posted as regularly as I should have. With IVF long behind us, and the adoption at a virtual standstill because our application is somewhere in the ether, I really haven’t had much new to say.  Really, how many more ways can you say “I’m fine but I’m frustrated” ? Ok, maybe I’m not so fine these days, but let’s take a look at the obsessive frustrations.

Infertility sucks. Recently, all the babies that were simply pregnancies last year, are manifesting themselves all around me. I mean, it’s ok, I can deal with this most of the time but it seems like there have been an awful lot of new babies popping up recently, and I’m reaching my saturation point. I feel like I’m reliving the conflicting emotions surrounding pregnancy announcements all over again. How many presents are you supposed to buy for people? I’ve sent along presents to the showers I’ve never attended. I’ve given presents once the babies were born. And now, I think I’m expected to arrange ‘group’ presents from the office. Where are my presents? And if I see another set of ultrasounds, christenings, feedings, or chubby-cheeked babies in different summer attire surrounded by doting parents/grandparents/aunts/uncles on facebook, I may throw my computer out the window (though I have been using the “hide” key liberally). Add my very pregnant co-worker into the mix, who treats her pregnancy as though it is the very first one ever, and has her doula and lactation consultant come into the office for VERY LOUD (disruptive) meetings, and well, maybe you can understand where the frustration is coming from.

Barrenlands Meditations is a little bitter this week. I know. I sound terrible and hateful and angry and ugly, and I am very aware that this is not healthy or make me a very nice person. Sorry; I’ll find my zen again in the next few days. There have been just way too many babies and 8 month bellies in my face over the last couple of weeks that remind me of something I can never have.

…And one step back

When I re-read my last post, I think I made an error in making it sound like it’s all okay. I guess I should’ve qualified that by saying “It’s mostly ok.” Sure, I can function more normally and even attend events where I know there will be new mums with their painfully adorable babies. I can even handle the nosy questions on when DH and I will be starting our family (I mention we’ve tried and suffered through a miscarriage and that answer seems to be enough to move us to the next topic).

However, I still can’t handle pregnancy announcements or ultrasound photos (especially those posted on Facebook). That familiar anxiety returns, along with the sharp pang of jealousy. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…”

It’s hard. Maybe it will always be hard. I’ve opted to “Hide news items” from two friends over the last couple of weeks. That’s not normal and perhaps I’m still socially stunted. I know I should be happy. I’d want someone to be happy for me too if I were in their shoes. Heck, pregnancy is happy happy news, right? … but just not for me. Not right now.

I think I’m much better dealing with the babies after they’ve arrived. I can deal with that and be happy for the family. No problem. But another pregnancy announcement…? Forget about it. Maybe I have a fear of pregnant bellies…maybe it’s somehow associated with a bizarre fear of the unknown (baby), mixed in with a large, unhealthy dose of envy and stirred with a lot of self-pity.

A lot better but still a little bitter. Sorry to all my pregnant friends and family.

Show-and-Tell: Fertility and My Fish, Part II

Sorry I’ve been away for awhile. My family came up to visit for a couple of weeks and the weather was unbelievably beautiful. I spent as much time as I could outdoors and away from the unearthly glow of my computer.

I’m glad to see the arrival of August. I was feeling pretty dejected in June: IVF #2 didn’t work, I had to face the fact that I would likely never experience pregnancy; and my job (and pregnant co-workers) were getting me down. AND, possibly the last straw…my new fish died.

Inexplicably, life went on… and for today’s Show-and-Tell: I have a beautiful new fish!

I’m not sure when this happened, but it feels like the tide has changed and I’m not mired in so much despair about our infertility. It used to rule my life. It fed my anger and jealousy. It also kept me hidden from a world that just did not stop breeding. But now, I’m going out more and I realized last weekend that I had made huge strides when I could actually chat with a new mother and her baby and not feel emotionally drained afterwards. Heck, I even picked up a baby last weekend and it didn’t send me into a tailspin of depression and self-loathing. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?

I’m not sure what’s happened, whether it’s time that is healing, the resolution that I am no longer actively ‘trying’ to get pregnant, or the fact that we’re now playing the waiting game for an adoption. I just don’t know. All I know is that I’ve got a new fish and feel like I’m finally in control. I sure hope this feeling lasts.

Now swim over to Stirrup Queen’s show-and-tell and check out the rest of the class!