Deciding

Firstly thank you all so much for your incredibly helpful, honest, true and compassionate comments. I just want to clarify - I completely know that this is our decision and ours alone, but I really thrive on hearing others opinions and experiences and your words helped me to have a dialogue with myself and my partner in making this decision. It's kind of like when I used to write papers. I liked to read many opinions, weigh them, cogitate, ruminate and then the way forward would emerge for me and I would be able to write the paper and be clear about what I was arguing and how I saw a dominant  theme emerging for me.  So, even though I was asking for help, it was help in the discussion, in the rumination and the unconscious churning, not help making the actual decision. Just in case you think I am a complete nincompoop.  Thank you!

I think most of you are right in what you said. And I did freak out completely about what to do when I had made what I believed was a final decision. In the end  it all did  boil down to regrets, and not knowing and not trying and wanting to do everything I could to keep going in the search for our family picture. So we decided to go ahead.

The caveats and the cautions for those ( including myself and my family)  who have concerns about my health and Susan's are: I am going to go to see a high risk OBGYN in the next couple of weeks and show him all my records from my previous pregnancy and get his opinion. This doctor was suggested by my PCP when I told her of my desire for a high intervention, extremely not naturally focused OBGYN. I have written about this before so I am not going to go into details, but I need that kind of doctor. And she says she knows one who is just the ticket. He does not go by the book, but he knows each patient as an individual and listens to what they say(!) I know I know.  What a concept! But last time I really felt that the risks were not taken seriously by my providers and I honestly felt overlooked until I was in the L and D department  with reduced fetal movement and a c section looming.

Our other promise is to really work on our diet and exercise in the next few months and try to be stronger and healthier for if and when another baby comes ( and for the pregnancy). You all know that this is a really tall order and one of the biggest things many of us struggle with in life. We are not naturals when it comes to cooking, we don't post on Facebook about our three course gourmet meals and naturally sourced ingredients.  We do eat organic when it comes to the dirty dozen and as much as we can afford, which is something that we started to do more of when Isobel started eating solid foods. But  probably the most exciting thing I have made recently is blueberry muffins, which I made tonight   at the behest of Isobel ( and with her help). I learned to bake as a kid who didn't have a tv but who had a mom who was fair to middling at baking. My mom was an earnestly healthy but rather uninterested cook and i am more of the vaguely healthy and extremely uninterested ilk.  We will see. And we are trying.

So I am taking BCPs  ( I took my last one tonight) and started Lupron on Saturday. The transfer is tentatively scheduled for May 10th, the Friday of Mother's Day weekend. Gulp. It seems I might be back in that coveted place of updating you all on the excruciatingly minute details of my FET cycle. Gratefully so.

So thank you. I will keep you all posted. I know how lucky I am even to be in this place. Fair, fat and forty something even though I am.

In which very big decisions are pondered...

Warning - do not read this if you are in the trenches of infertility or loss and are still waiting for  a live take home baby.

 
I have been planning to have another baby since Isobel was born. I did everything I could to enjoy her precious and beautiful smallness,  even as a clueless first time mother who did not grow up around babies, knowing that life is short and that there were no guarantees of another baby in my future. Even before I knew who she was, I  pictured siblings.  And once I met her and experienced her happy go lucky personality and her inner and outer beauty, I pictured her with a brother or a sister, so  similar but  also different to her.  I saw them giggling together, playing side by side, arguing and fighting and snuggling and finding their own way and their own passions. I have seen my sister's girls grow up side by side and that has always inspired me to want this for myself. When I was first pregnant with Isobel we freaked out when we  found out we were having twins,  which as everyone always says, is an instant family, but that fear and euphoria only lasted a week  until the second embryo's very slow heartbeat petered out.

We have had challenges from day one. Not even taking into account the years of waiting and wondering and treatment, and donor eggs and donor sperm that we went through to get to Isobel, it has been a bumpy ride.  A hard and stress filled pregnancy, bleeding, a huge fibroid, pre eclampsia, post partum depression, unemployment, parents dying, dogs dying.  But after I survived  and mostly thrived through the first year of motherhood I was ready to start looking for a job that would pay the bills and then some and would provide insurance for us to do a frozen embryo cycle to make our sibling plans come alive.

Susan and I  have both come late in life to facing our longings head on and going for it despite the odds and difficulties. NOT doing was too painful. Susan wanted desperately to complete an MDiv. and work in the ministry of a church that was liberal enough to embrace her queerness and allow her to serve in a full ministerial capacity despite the fact, or because of the fact she is a woman. This was something that had been in the works for over twenty years, and which had for many reasons, but mostly financial, been put on hold.  I was equally set on  fulfilling my desire to become a mother. The delay of that also had a lot to do with money ( sperm is expensive and so is insemination and it was all so unknown and I dealt with a sizeable amount of ambivalence).  We were also busy with long distance family obligations and it wasn't till 2007 that we finally thought we might be ready to have a baby. And that's when we started in earnest.

Fast forward to the wonderful birth of Isobel and our circumstances were these: Susan was still finishing school  and had been laid off from her job  of 24 years when Isobel was 6 months old, so we were living off her 401k, student loads and money that my recently dead parents had left me. I had always wanted to stay home with my baby and this combination of resources made it possible. We had a wonderful time staying home together for the second six months of Isobel's life.   So there I was in the summer of 2011 looking to embark on the second part of our family planning. Baby number two. I was still breast-feeding and I did not have an exact time line but I knew that first I would find a job and we would take it from there. I landed a part time on call job doing psych evals in the ER and I actually liked many aspects of it ( apart from managed care and the horrific mental health system which I won't get into). I got to connect with patients in their darkest hours and lend them my ears and my heart and give them a little hope sometimes.  I was hoping it would lead to a full time gig that would support my little family and move us along to the next part of my goal, courtesy of insurance and five gorgeous frozen embryos from our one live cycle with the wonderful egg donor.

The job did not lead to anything apart from sleepless nights for all of us. Isobel missed me while I was gone in the nights and Susan's  physical health issues that made it really hard for her to coax Isobel into and to stay in her crib. They often were sleeping in the armchair together when I got home at  2 , 3, 4,5 or 6 in the morning and the lack of sleep and physical pain was making it unbearable for Susan. I wasn't exactly myself either working these odd unpredictable hours. Great for someone with no obligations and hours to sleep in but not so much for a mostly attachment, avidly breastfeeding parent and her spouse. After three months training and three on call I had to reluctantly call it quits. A  couple of months later  I got a director of social services job in the not for profit field I had worked in previously.  I knew in the interview that it was probably going to be a disaster, but I needed work, and I thought I could manage it. It was good pay and benefits ( as not for profits go), near my house, flexible,  and I thought that I could return to that type of work, even though it had burnt me out the last time.

Fast forward 10 months - unbelievable - and I am not the person I was when Isobel was born. I am tired, crabby, even fatter than before I got pregnant the first time, lethargic, angry and just plain unhappy. I have a hard time handling Isobel's new found independence and strong will. With weaning comes less endless snuggle time in the mornings and early risings. I get impatient. I am the one asking Susan what to do about various behavior issues, whereas before I thought I was in charge.  But I am still determined, really determined to keep going, no matter what. My actual job is not exactly difficult, it is a managerial one that demands good clinical judgment, great supervisory skills and organization. I can manage all of that. But the environment is absolutely toxic. I had angst during my last job, before I got pregant, serious serious angst. Much of it was about my supervisors. Having worked at an agency for nine years previously that was rich  with mostly sane and often down right inspirational supervisors I have never again had that experience. Right now I have a supervisor who does not show up for work much. And does not really lead. But more than that I have a co worker who is a toxic bully and whose whole department seems to work to make my department look bad. It eats away at me.  Despite all this I have managed to wean Isobel, have all the tests I need to prepare for an FET, including a mammogram, and CHANGED  MY ANTI-DEPRESSANT  over a four week period to something my new psychiatrist was more comfortable with me taking while pregnant. Also we  got our condo ready for a short sale, which involved a huge amount of paperwork, it went on the market a few weeks ago  and we have a buyer. So all being well, we are moving in about two months. And our credit is probably going to be ruined.  And we will be paying the same in rent that we paid in mortgage because rents are so high but we have no credit to buy a place and we are not sure where to go based on Susan's job search. But because of our physical and mental and financial hardship  ( including my depression which is really affected by the lack of light in our "garden" apartment), we are able to do a short sale and get out of this underwater, small  and rather damp apartment. So yes a lot of shit is going on and I have ploughed on, being crabby and mean to Susan and trying hard to be nicer to Isobel but not always succeeding. Because that is what I do. I plough on. I am known for my determination and not giving up.

We have so many unknowns in doing this  upcoming FET. Many of them are not anything to do with infertility issues or pregnancy.  When we had Isobel we didn't really know how we would manage, how we would survive financially, when I would have to go back to work, but somehow our leap of faith payed off.  Susan was still working when Isobel was born, she was able to take off 3 months unpaid with FMLA. She went back to work for three horrendous months and then was laid off in a very uncool way. But she got severance and we survived ok. This time it feels like we are not leaping a few faithful feet, but that we are hurling ourselves down  a cliff in the Grand Canyon and praying that we will survive the fall. Ironically enough I have all the tools I need to get pregnant ( knowing that there are no guarantees of course). Star embryos, a birth controlled uterus with a thin progesterone induced lining,  insurance to cover everything except 10% of the hospital costs ( which is the worse part of it  ) a history of being able to get pregnant. But we have no child care plan. I make too much money to afford any kind of financial assistance for childcare. Susan is not physically able to take care of two kids because of her health issues. I would like to stay home ( even though it would be a big challenge of course) but because I am 17 years into my "chosen" field I can make more money than Susan in her new career.  And as someone who waited 24 years in the wilderness of an often meaningless career, she is dying to get out into the world of her new ministry / social justice, chaplaincy career. She feels her vocation so strongly and while she is  a fantastic mother and care-giver to Isobel, she needs to be out in the world as well, fulfilling her vocation.  At the age of 55 she feels her future slipping away and she is down about the prospect of not being able to fulfill her dreams. Our  childcare solution that we had half-heartedly convinced ourselves  we may be able to  do was that I would work three or four days a week, Susan would work about two days and we  would  juggle the child-care and maybe pay for a day or two in daycare. We have no clue if Susan can get a job in the very competitive field she is moving into and she has many strikes against her: older, female, lesbian,  to name a few. Her metabolic health issues that mean that she needs to take care of her diet, get a lot of exercise and get a lot of rest. Which as you all know, are difficult to achieve with one baby, let alone two.

When we had Isobel I had this fantasy that we would find our tribe and that all the people who were so thrilled that we had a baby would be part of our newly formed "family".  I know that was awfully naive. It did not happen like that at all. As she got older people lost interest after a couple of visits. I eventually realized that it's more important  to have a few people that are well known to her and that we can all rely on rather than an endless stream of visitors.  We have some lovely lovely people who care about Isobel. But they are all busy busy busy. As are we. I expect people might think that it's selfish of me to think that there would be people who would give up their schedules to help us, but I did. Our church family loves her and finds her to be cute and funny and smart, but they go home to their families after church. We have a very small family and a very small number of people we can rely on. Mostly we have to pay people to help us with child care. Even though there are grandmotherly types at church, they all have their own grandchildren. We long to see grandma Margaret, who is a wonderful grandma and sometimes grandpa too, but she is in Canada which is a long train ride or a short expensive plane ride away( we hate flying). So we and mostly I, feel bereft in this department. We have our baby mamas that we see on the weekdays and do stuff with. And I definitely cultivated that group and feel that we are to some extent like family. But on the weekends they go off and do their thing with their families. Isobel's number one fan outside of our little trio is my sister. They absolutely adore each other. But she is busy too. And my nieces have lives of their own and don't really have the inclination to just come and hang out with Isobel. My brother and his wife and their son, who also adore Isobel live 3,000 miles in England and we don't see them very often. They have never visited here, and they don't intend to. They are eco people who are fanatically against flying. They won't even do it for family.

So the night before last,  my sister told me that she was really worried about my physical and mental health should I get pregnant again. She had seen me a couple of weeks ago being tired and depressed and had wondered how I would put myself through a very risky pregnancy (sic) and put myself and my family through the trials and tribulations and unknowns of all this, when what we have is pretty damn good and we don't know how things would turn out. We could end up with a disabled child, a preemie, etc etc.

As I got up on Friday morning, I told Susan what I had decided, and felt like a weight had been  lifted from my proverbial shoulders. I went about my business getting ready for work and when I got there I wrote my sister a text explaining that we had decided not to do it:

"I am not sure what happened but something tipped the balance for me. The only reason apart from obvious selfish ones of nurturing and being close to a baby, was providing a sibling for Isobel and expanding our little  family. Even though  that is a huge reason and one we both want very much for her, we can't do it. For many reasons that we wanted to overcome. Money could provide  for some of the gaps, or a big support system but we don't have either. We  are going to focus on Isobel and on trying to fulfill all of our dreams and not being stuck in a miserable job just so I can stay employed and pregnant and help Susan to get her career going. Just when things are getting a bit easier with mobility and Isobel's independence it would be really hard to have another baby and also for my health. I know many people who have struggled long and hard against many odds to have a first or second child but it seems the odds are too great for us to have a second one. You will have to make sure we don't spoil her. I  am mourning a dream. It is a huge loss. But even though you might see me as vulnerable I feel I have beaten the odds so many times and persevered when things were hard. But I realized the toll is too great on all of our lives. I think we can all be happier and healthier if we focus on what we have and listen to what our hearts and minds are telling us. Anyway, this is quite long enough. Thanks and see you soon. Xoxo. " 


I felt relieved. I started thinking about all the things Isobel could have if she was an only child. Our undivided attention. Music lessons. Soccer or some other sport. We would have to make sure she had friends who were close to her that she could hang out with. (And with our track record that was another reason to have a sibling - an instant playmate - albeit 3. 5 years older). We could get rid of all our baby stuff in storage that we had been hanging onto and it would help us to downsize our storage. I could sell my cloth diapers. I could get a more fulfilling, maybe lower paying or even part time job eventually because we would not have to pay for childcare for two kids for 5 or more years. Susan could find something extremely fulfilling. We would have time, if not money.

Then  I started to cry. Thankfully I was in my small office with hardly any co-workers. I confided in one of my co workers and she was very sweet and gave me a big hug and we went and got coffee and talked. I cried on and off all day. I cried at the huge loss of my huge dream. I cried at all the face book posts about second or third siblings. I wanted so much to get on the baby bandwagon like so many of my FB and blog friends ( and my IRL baby mamas too) and get pregnant, have another baby and begin the rest of our lives with our perfect family. I wanted to post updates, and talk about my BCPs and the schedule and how we were excited etc etc. My clinic nurse had been so encouraging to me and had really boosted me up as I returned there again after so much time had elapsed, and I had really got the baby fever bad. I felt that all the misery at work would be worthwhile if I could just have that second baby. I even had fantasies about how wonderful pregnancy could be again ( not true, TGal, not in my experience ) and how it would all be roses, or maybe a few roses. (Again, not true, if I look at the list of symptoms I had that I put in my note sections on my I phone as I waited at the doctor's office for my appointments last time. I will pull that out one of these days for the really curious. It's bad. ) In thinking about being pregnant, I hadworried about my ever swelling feet and ankles, and the leaky urine issues, and the weird anxious feelings I had last time, but I convinced myself I would know better this time, and I always have Isobel. Except what if something happens to her. Then we won't have any children and that would be unbearable. I was worried that I would have pre eclampsia again and be tied to the bed for two days till I had to fart so bad it was making me crazy, taking magnesium and not being allowed to be alone with my baby. I asked my sister a few weeks ago if she would take care of Isobel when the baby was born and she said of course she would. But I did have to ask her.
I took my BCPs on Friday night and I will be taking them tonight. I have not really decided.  We have not decided or had chance to talk about it. I have been googling childcare and trying to figure out how we could make it work.  I make too much money for state sponsored child care but once our rent is paid ( or our mortgage) I only have the same amount left to pay all the bills and eat.  My clients have anywhere from 1 - 9 children and we provide them with housing and social services for basically no cost, because they have disabilities ( mental and physical). They don't have to worry about childcare but they don't have the resources or education or privilege that I have, so I can't really begrudge them what I want.  And they struggle so hard with their childrens' issues.

Isobel has had the stomach flu last night, and while she was throwing up all over me and clinging to me, I was thinking how much harder it would be with two sick little ones in the house. When I was pregnant and before, I would wake up in the night and feel sick and wonder how I would do it when I had a baby, and it all just worked out. It's not like I have a choice. And I want to comfort my baby.

So here I sit, with a girl who is on the mend and who wants more of my attention after I have taken the first time away from her since she got sick. A wonderful wonderful girl. A wonderful wife. And I really don't know what to do.

Please help.

Honoring Caemon

Caemon, even though I never met you and I only know your moms Timaree and Jodi 
slightly through the vastness of blog land, I also know you through the intimacy of a smaller group of bloggers that I have been on the periphery of for some time. So even though we don't know each other, I feel compelled to post about you and put up this candle placeholder from An offering of love.
Like so many others, I will miss your sweet smile and joyful spirit. I miss the life that you could have had, but that was taken from you by cancer. I am so sorry that you had to go so soon and leave your dear moms,  and all the hundreds of loving followers you have. You fought so hard. Your moms fought so hard. You are a valiant little guy and I love you and miss you too.
In honor of you, Caemon, I am participating ( a little late) in the week  / or weeks of blog silence. Life does not go on. Life stops for a while. We pause for Caemon. We take deep breaths and say prayers and wonder at this huge loss that we have all suffered.
Sweet dreams, Caemon. Fly Free.
Stop by and send your moms a message of love and reassurance while they grieve so hard.
With love,
Tireegalxo

International Blog Delurking Week - Jan 6- 13, 2013

 

Thanks to Melissa from Stirrup Queens for inventing yet another blogging tradition and inviting us all to tag along.  It is fairly easy.  In the words of the blogstress herself:

"Leave a comment in the comment section below admitting that you’re here. You can simply raise your hand and meekly admit that you’re here with a simple, one-word “here” comment; or you can proudly raise your hand and tell us all a bit about yourself 

So this is it, you are up, peoples!

Okay, Cary, North Carolina, who are you?  I think I get more hits from this particular place than any other. I am intrigued. And all you readers from California and New York, who are you? And not forgetting my Canadian, Australian and other continented friends too.

Please let me know, I am interested and I would love to know who you are.

Thank you for reading and ( hopefully ) commenting. I am going to look like a real chump if no one responds but I am willing to put myself out there for the greater cause - the one that is "International Blog Delurking Week 2013". 

 

on family and friends...

I went out the other night with a small group of ex coworkers from my old job. Many of them have since left as the agency is in  a big ugly downward spiral and is topped with an abusive and conniving CEO. But I digress. Things got really bad in that workplace after I left to have my mini breakdown before Isobel came into the world and  the others in the group got closer because of banding together to cower before a common enemy and in many cases to bolster each other in the face of Really Bad Things Happening.  So they share a special bond that I am not really part of but I think they still value me and appreciate my friendship. This was to be our Christmas get together and love fest complete with Yankee swap ( which I learned is Not a white elephant!)

(This isn't a post about the horrible murders in Connecticut, just in case you thought I was going there, but I am thinking of them and holding those poor parents and their children in my heart.)

Originally there was going to be about 10 of us, but on the day of we got an email from one woman saying that she couldn't come because some random relative of her husbands was coming into town and she had to hang out with them. I don't remember the details, and I can't find the email, but I was like - oh, okay. And then another woman sent a message via the group ringleader that she couldn't come because she had some family event that she had forgotten, or had got rearranged, or something and she had to go to that. And she sent us lots of love - as did the first one. Another one couldn't come because she had had such a soul destroying day at the above workplace and just needed to be home - and had then heard about the Connecticut killings and that had finished her off for the day. So three out of an original 9 plus two others that couldn't come from the beginning.

And I stopped and thought, what is it about family that makes people leave their friends high and dry? I mean, I am rarely one of those people who cancel because I have something better to do with my family. Because I have hardly any family here. I have my sister. My nieces. And some ex in laws that I love dearly but are not part of the fabric of my everyday life. And Susan and Isobel. My brother and his partner and son are  in England and they have sworn off air travel so they have never visited us here. We visit them approximately once every couple of years. This year and next year are going to be off years. My parents are dead. Susan's mom lives in a nursing home in Kansas City and her sister lives in that city too. We don't have lots of people to do stuff with on holidays -whether that's Labor Day or Christmas Day. And people invariably gravitate towards their family, fucked up or not, on the holidays. We are spending Christmas Day with my sister and part of it with her kids and then traveling to see Susan's mom and sister in Kansas City the next day. So yes, we are like everyone else. We have a nice church "family" but they all go off and do their various family things too. One Thanksgiving a friend from church invited us to her non family Thanksgiving and we went, which really upset my sister. She couldn't understand why we didn't want to be with her. We just wanted  a change. Apparently it doesn't work like that. So that was our act of anti family rebellion which didn't go down so well.

But what makes members of a tight knit of group of survivors break off and not come to a party because Uncle Mike or someone is in town? I just don't get it. At all. Because sending your regrets and love is just not like sending yourself in person. Maybe I am bitter that I don't have those kinds of endless family occasions. And I don't ditch my friends. Just to be clear, we  don't all get together very often. It was our Christmas get together. We don't see each other much in our everyday lives if at all. Unlike family who see each other a lot, especially in the holidays. I realize I am really skirting around this issue and I wish I could just get it out.  I just don't understand it. What do people who have no family do or think of this? Our church usually organizes  a Christmas Day meal and service for those left behind with no family ( or friends I suppose).  It is akin to one of those cringily named orphans or waifs and strays affairs ( I know - it's a nice invitation to get!) No one can host it this year. No body wants to. None of the waifs and strays have the space, the time or the energy to do it. What will become of them when everyone is busy celebrating with Drunk Uncle Mike? I know I speak of this from the privileged point of view of one who has a spouse and a child and even some living relatives. I am not going to be left in the cold. Or uninvited. But I do really feel the dearth of Other People in our lives.

Sometimes I  just feel lonesome. It is a part of my personality and has not changed with having Isobel. Susan, Isobel and I are a very tight, close knit threesome. We like that. But we go to the zoo and  I see families with uncles, aunts, family friends, tagging along.  Groups of people. And that is rarely rarely us. We don't really have a gang that we hang with. Our baby mama friends are often busy with friends and relatives popping in to visit or on their way through town. We have friends that we see on occasions that we plan. Like a dinner now and then. We have no do drop in friends.  ( Do people do that any more? It was one of my favorite things about my life as a student in Wales). Our core people are the ones I mentioned earlier and they are busy busy busy.

When we envisioned having a family I had this fantasy that people would come out of the woodwork and would want to be around us more because of Isobel. In some ways that was true - everyone wanted to meet her and visit with us when she was small. And people are still enchanted with her when they see her. She is pretty darn cute. But people in the deep fabric of our lives. We don't have them. We see people at church on Sunday. We have lots of acquaintances. I have a nice group of old work friends from my last two jobs. We make arrangements to see people when we can - which is always based on the level of overwhelm and is often sporadaic. Susan goes to meetings related to church and her chosen career as a would be and almost ready to be ordained minister. That's not exactly fun although is is fulfilling. At work I am glad to have a team which I supervise that I can actually confide in to some degree ( might bite me in the ass at some point, but it's all I have got for now to keep me going as peer relationships are either hindered by too much work and no time, or in the case of my closest peers,  too much time wasting and not much work).

One of our most precious family connections is our friend M who is my mum's friend from high school who has kept in touch all these years. She and my mum were both married on the same day ( to different men) which meant they couldn't attend each others' weddings. To me that is sad because it again  puts "family" of the wedding ring type ahead of "family" of the friend type. She talks about women in those days being a lot more clueless and less worldly wise. I get the feeling that neither of them really had much of a clue about the trajectory of their lives on their young and innocent wedding days and at least one of them was getting married to an idea  more than anything else.My mother practically worshiped M her whole life and saw her as an adventuresome woman whose life took interesting turns and who was not as wrapped up in domesticity as she was. In her turn, M admired my mom's ( reluctant) domesticity, her  nice husband and kids and being caught up in  and dedicated to their exploits (which were less adventurous and closer to home).

M lives in Canada near Toronto and has for the last 40 or so years. Since we have been living in Chicago, she has begun to visit my sister and me over the years and now she is probably as close to or closer to us as she was to my mum. She normally comes to visit at least once  a year - usually in November and came twice in Isobel's early life and was a wonderful helpful calming presence. We went to visit her this summer and had a lovely relaxing time ( apart from the rather nightmarish overnight train trip). And she was supposed to visit this fall but her health has not been good and it's hard for her to travel and also to get travel health insurance - as she is in her mid seventies and has some chronic health conditions. It seems that so many things conspire against us getting together. I forgot to say one of the most important things about M. She is Isobel's grandma. We offered her that title when Isobel was very small - or maybe even before she was born. My mom was alive only for the first month of Isobel's life and it felt right to have M be one of Isobel's grandmas. So we miss M. We talk on the phone and email. She is lovely. We have found each other in a very sweet way and I wish we were closer in real life.

I seem to be doomed to have mother type figures in my life who do not stay. That is a story for another post. But I think it is this missing of a mother figure that really has done me in for a lot of my life - either because my mother was missing metaphorically or because I picked people to fill in that role who were ill equiped or unaware that they had been chosen for this role. And that is really getting to the nitty gritty.

Hmmmm.... I know this is rather wobbly, but I do want to get it out there. What do you all think of this family / friends hierarchy? Are you disappointed too? Do tell!

more about milk...

All is going well.  After the first few days of the "honeymoon" period of weaning, it seemed that Isobel was having a really hard time in general. She was more in need of reassurance and hugs and had quite a few melt downs. My sister reminded me that when kiddos are working on one developmental step, they will regress in another. This seemed to be the case with Isobel. So we took longer with the transition and were sure to fill her up with love as much as possible.

We are down to twice  a day ( or night, really - bedtime and first thing in the morning). Tonight we dropped the coming-home-from-work-feed / naptime-when-I am-home-feed. I felt so sad coming home knowing that we would not be having our special booby time on the couch as soon as I came in.  I sat outside in the car for a minute and pre-emptively mourned the loss of this special time. Usually I get a big hug and then am told "booby - couch". Which is my cue to divest myself of my bra and lie on our big green seen-better-days couch with Isobel and get snuggly and give milkies.

It went fairly smoothly tonight. Susan had been prepping Isobel before I came home and reminding her there would be no booby til bedtime. She had her snack and was chomping on it as I walked in the door. I told her that I loved her very much but there would be no more booby til bedtime. She said "ok" and went back to her snack and her program on the I Pad. Then we all had a tea party in the kitchen with a cute little tea set that I have been saving for a special occasion. It was a big hit and Isobel poured "tea" and added sugar and cream to her cup and proceeded to eat a pretend cupcake. She presided over the event with great care and authority, reminding us to drink our tea and eat our cupcakes if we lapsed in concentration. It was really very sweet.

I realize that this may all seem so trivial and almost sentimental, especially to readers who are in the throes of TTC and the rawness of infertility and treatment.  I admit, I am sentimental about it.  The reason I am doing it is very clear to me.  Only to get pregnant again.  And to help Isobel avoid further tooth decay ( which may or may not be related to breast feeding at night). Without this need to go off meds for a mandatory mammogram and the meds for pre pregnancy I would be nursing Isobel at night for a long time to come.

So far we have not had to do a no nursing nap time / night time session. That I am not looking forward to. We have til the beginning of January when I will have a scheduled mammogram and then go in for baseline testing again to prepare for the cycle. 

One of my baby mama friends announced that she is pregnant. She is the fourth of our group of baby mamas to get pregnant with a second baby. Two of those babies have been born, two are on the way. I can't help think that all my friend had to do was have sex in order to get pregnant. What does that even look like? How is that even possible? Not in my wildest imagination.  I know it's how most people have babies, but to me, it seems so ridiculously mockingly easy peasy and cruelly so far out of my reach.

So I wean and get ready for a FET. That's my reality.

Milk, it's not what's for dinner...

Isobel and I are in weaning mode. It broke my heart a little bit to do it. Actually a lot.  I probably wouldn't have done it but for the fact of a) she is a horrible eater and I think that her snacking on milk all day was not helping her appetite for food b) I am getting ready for an FET early next year and i need to get a mammogram sometime in December, and be ready to take meds in January and finally c) Isobel has seven cavities in her teeth and we are on a mission to get them taken care of and not exacerbate the problem.

When I had PPD I clung to my nursing relationship with Isobel. When my OB told me that I could consider take stronger and different meds for the depression / anxiety which would mean  stopping nursing and giving a bottle I was horrified. As a very new mother I felt that nursing was one of my only tools. It was something that I could do and do well. I was so determined not to take that away from Isobel or me. I know, I know that many of us have not been able to nurse or have chosen not to. If I had not been able to nurse I know I would have been okay eventually and I am sure Isobel would too. But I could. It was my secret weapon. It was my super bonding technique. It kept me sane and feeling useful and able to nurture. It was a big part of my connection. Between the horrible thoughts and anxieties of PPD,  nursing kept me sane. I did not change meds. I think I upped them a little with the help of my shrink. I organized round the clock attendants for when Susan had to be away from us and I gradually weaned myself off them when I felt stronger and more able to cope.

A couple of things really really irritated upset me about midwives and doctors and advice givers when I was pregnant / very new to motherhood. One was when people said that it didn't matter how the baby was born as long as she was born healthy. In saying that I felt that they were robbing me of my grief about not being able to do a nice sloshy water birth at home, or even an unmedicated birth at the hospital. Even though I really really wanted a c section after I realized how many complications there were, I did not want someone else to glibly take away my reaction to not having that experience. I wanted it acknowledged that it was a loss and something I had to say goodbye to. Now, after having Isobel and thanking my own intuition for avoiding something I don't want to even consider could have happened, I REALLY don't care how any baby is born to me.  What I mean by that is, that I really don't need a VBAC and would not consider one ever. I don't care. I don't want to wait 40 or 42 weeks for the baby to bake ( if we get lucky enough to have another). I would rather she / he comes at 37 or 38 weeks than starts to malinger in there when I will probably have GD or something else like that big fat fibroid that is in the same place it was before. I would never say to a new mom "oh, it doesn't matter how the baby comes, as long as it is healthy, " which is what I now think and believe. But I would never tell a mom she has to push if she doesn't want to. Pushing would not have got Isobel out, I believe that. Science got her in and science got her out. Wouldn't have worked 50 years ago but works now. In another life, I could have had an Ina May birth. Just not in this one. And I am fine with that.

The second issue is when people who don't even know you or your circumstances tell you that it's no big deal to give your baby formula. We agonized about giving Isobel a bottle when she was a day or so old and not pooping. We agreed to it. It was no big deal. I don't feel bad about it anymore at all.  i did for a while.  I would do it again if I had to. I know all about the mommy wars and the breast feeding and formula wars. But no one should make you feel bad for not wanting to give your baby formula if you don't have to. We had nurses pushing it on us night and day. Why? Not because they were worried about our baby's health. I don't think so, anyway. Because they wanted a quick fix to a problem that didn't exist. Shut the baby up, stop it crying. The baby is hungry. Give it a shot of vitamin Enfamil. Mama is tired, you sleep, I'll feed the baby and keep her away from you in the nursery. Don't worry mama, get some sleep. Are you kidding me? I went through all this to have a baby to love and nurture and you are talking about taking that baby away from me when I JUST MET HER?!!!! Which happened to us by the way. They kept Isobel in the nursery and gave a few pathetic excuses and she was up there by herself for about 2 or 3 hours shortly after she was born even when we kept asking for her. If there is a next time I will tell Susan to go into the nursery and demand the baby. This time we just kept asking the bossy nurse ( who wanted to feed her formula) what was going on and she kept fobbing us off. So no, please don't tell me that it's okay to feed my baby formula. I know it's ok. But you don't get to decide so you can feel better about yourself.

So here I am starting to wean Isobel. It was going to be a  very gradual thing until we found out about the cavities on Tuesday. We started with cutting down to nap-time ( or when I get home from work), bed-time and morning-time. Then we freaked out about the bed time nursing ( courtesy of cavity begetting night time milky mouth). So now we are still on that schedule but when I come to bed and Isobel gets in with us, I wake her for a teeth cleaning and do not offer her the boob. Except the other night, Susan woke me to say, "is Isobel nursing?" and I realized the clever girl had got on by stealth and was happily sucking away.

Nursing has been our constant for two years. Eating has not been a big success especially recently. So of course I worry that she is going to starve and / or I won't be able to soothe her. I have to admit she has been pretty game about it so far and not complained too bitterly or for too long when I have reminded her she can't have booby till bedtime or whenever the next scheduled suckling is. Except today when she wouldn't nap, or tonight when she had a melt down at a friends' house and I was caught parenting in public and not strong enough to endure a full tantrum so I gave in.

I want to give her the opportunity to be self directed and to make choices when she can. I also need to be in charge. It's hard for me to say no to her. Not when it's about safety or expedience ( like, getting into her car seat or crossing the road), but when it's about enjoyment or fun or comfort.
I feel ever so slight  relief as I leave for work so I don't have to be there to refuse her. I am on edge when I am home in the evenings, waiting for her to ask me for booby. The edge is getting less. I am focusing on helping her understand if she is hungry  and needs some food or if she wants comfort and can have  a hug. There is a lot of "kissing it better" for owies. And verbalizing. And reminding. And giving her things to look forward to that may or may not be to do with booby. And I will never ever call it booby to any baby number two. What was I thinking? That she would not mimic me and she would not cry booby booby booby in any public place she sees fit to?

So yes,  I am in a bit of a mourning phase. I am trying my best. I know it needs to be done. Maybe I will have to trade in my 2 extra cup sizes and 4  extra inches of width once I stop. Who knows. It is the least of my worries. That and my double chin that is here to stay.