cd45 +1 = cd1 + UTI

That, plus a lingering cold and feeling down for weeks made me treat myself with two days off of work. (well, and antibiotics of course)

On the feeling down bit: I was supposed to have my next appointment with BambiEyes end of October. However, the evening before I got the cancellation and the news she was off ill. Early November she informed me she would not return to work and asked if I wanted to transfer to a colleague. Well, no thanks, not in that other city! Please transfer me back to the hospital we started? At least that is halfway between home and work.... If I could please wait till mid December...
So I'm waiting.
And work told me they will not extend my contract past the end of the year. Am mostly relieved at that, this company was only half nice, the other half women/freelance unfriendly, hypocritical and just tiresome. Now the coordinator is moaning there are not enough people for the next projects... Well, they have my number and I am not going to involve myself in that people/budget/time carnival.

Some good news too: After reaching out to a work friend of DP who was heartbroken, he and I discovered we could talk and support each other. It woke me up from the state of denial I had slipped back into. It is an amazing experience to be able to share pain, fear or sadness without someone making you feel wrong or trying to 'fix' you. Sometimes it is scary we seem to read each others (state of) mind. Talking with BFG would calm me and distract me (and make me want to start over with him). This is different : I can let the sadness flow. (And it is not half secret like the time I spend with BFG) It does make me sad, it does make me wake up at night but at least I feel something and for now I believe it helps me out of my standstill.
Mhm, not very good at nicknames today. I would feel bad for naming him heartbroken, almost like he will never recover. And Giraffe sounds silly (although he is tall and skinny enough)

And the computer store doesn't answer the phone. My two week laptop repair is now turning into two months....(if I'll ever get it back) Maybe I should just go there.
Oh, I found a letter between the unopened mail: in some countries they close bank accounts that have not been touched for 6 years....
Other not related subject: what is this Doctor doing in my Google Friend connect bar thingy? My blog isn't searchable in google search engine, only through Mel's blog list. Strange kind of spam...

Be kind to yourselves if you find this dark time of year with its holidays difficult again. My new friend has promised me that 2011 will be better.

CD 33

After my last post I thought I should check what cd I'm on, and was surprised to find that was cd21 already. (which this year had mostly been the end of it)There had been a minuscule mucuy sign a week before, followed by some activity. So -apart from no eggs that aren't even ovulating- I felt doubt creeping back in. On cd 27 I told DP that cd1 was taking longer than before, but being who he is he didn't react in any significant way.
I'm trying not to let hope creep in as well. But I haven't made myself poas to truly destroy the possibility of hope. I'll keep that for Sunday when I'm staying with a friend who will not say rational stuff DP might say (pff I can hardly bring myself to type what I don't want to hear) "but the chances weren't very high" or "does this mean your menopause is starting right now"
Otherwise I suppose that by all practical means and purposes I've given up hope: I'm not taking folic acid or any other pills, I don't even know what wheat grass is, I'm not taking temperatures, I'm not actively checking CM or what cycle day it is, and the only time for 'activity' is on the weekend, to keep DP happy. Because, well, I'm in the "it's useless anyway" stage. No Chinese magic, herbs, vitamins, dreamcatchers, moonstones, African statues on bedside tables, aura or other healers or foreign doctors. Yoga is a sport to me, no objections there.

The whole coffee/alcohol thing is a non issue for me, I never drink it anyway, can't get over the taste. You know, maybe later, when I'm all grown up and such...

3, 2, 1, 0

4 years ago I was so hoping for a baby, but DP wasn't ready yet. When his brother announced a bit later they were expecting I cried secretly.
3 years ago DP's nephew was born, we had started TTC and I was happy to see him holding his newborn nephew, thinking that soon it would be our turn.
2 years ago on nephews first birthday I sat there with a happy smug smile because I was pregnant! The more babies and toddlers the merrier.
1 year ago, I'm not quite sure now how I survived that birthday. A bit desperate, but also determined to not give up hope.
Yesterday was hard. I didn't want to be there, even if it was only 10 AM to noon, but DP insisted and I was too miserable to protest. It was supposed to be a small party because DP's SIL just came out of hospital, so it was family only.  (DP +2 kids, her one brother +2 kids, her other brother +2 kids, two sets of grandparents and 1 greatgrandmother) Small party I think not. Nephew got more toys already than my brother and me ever had in our life. It was hard to be the only childless person in the room. It was hard to admit there is only a 0,1% chance I'm pregnant right now. I don't even know my cycle days any more, my 2 week wait hardly ever gets to two weeks anyway with a cycle of around 21 days.

PCT

In daily life I work in IT, loads of computer lingo, abbreviations and project blah blah.
One person at work suggested that we do not only do flowcharts but a PCT as well. For the life of me I couldn't remember what that would be...so my younger colleague googled it... and proceeded to click on an ivf-information-link! I had to push him off his chair, closed that browser window and managed not to yell 'nooo, I have had that and it is weird and we're soo not going to do that'
So in my professional life it now means Process Cycle Test.
...Have to remember...

out of order

It doesn't say boo or bah, doesn't purr nor wink and blink, my laptop is thoroughly out of order.

There is another computer in the house, but it's DP's, in the middle of the living room and it has the new windows 7 stuff on it, big reasons stopping me from sitting down on the floor in front of it and type my heart out. I'm still thinking I will get my laptop fixed somehow, some time soon. Even if the closest certified Sony laptop support and repair center really is in London.

Might be a good excuse to visit my brother. I haven't spoken with him since he announced their second pregnancy -gee when was that, oops early September? That's almost 2 months ago! Checked with my mother, they made the 12 weeks without problem. Time seems to escape me... Am I really that stuck in the past? In the what-ifs, the would-haves?

I have to admit I still don't have the slightest idea about my future and what I want it to look like and I don't enjoy thinking about it. When the first Sinterklaas (Santa) invitation came in my immediate reaction was "Again?!" I'm just sooo not in the mood. I know December is not my first worry, but I didn't want to be reminded it is unavoidable already.

Early this year I met my neighbour from across the street, we came to speak about infertility and how she was just married and TTC for 1 year with no luck. Last week I met her again, we started talking about the sweet red kitten they got and how much fun he is. I had noticed she was up early every day, sitting around in her pyjamas and was wondering about her health. She was a bit shy but told me she was 5 months pregnant (and morning sickness from it too). Happy for her, and sort of happy, or at least relieved that my bad luck didn't jinx her... yep, what a scientist I am...

At work the guy sitting opposite me has just become a father last Monday, he hasn't been back to work yet. He's been very good throughout the pregnancy, even when things were scary he never told me unless I asked.

DP's SIL has been trying to share her secondary infertility with me. Sometimes I wonder about the trap of secondary IF. I can understand rationally that it hurts, I can relate that not many people understand what it really means (that would include me too if I'm honest) and you cannot radically change your life now that you're not going to be a mother after all. And with Twangy asking what country her readers dream of living in, I found I couldn't stop dreaming of faraway and exotic places....

It was hot

It was hot in Jordan, and sunny every day. It is full of beautiful rock and fine fine sand.

The first few days I could hardly believe I was there, I felt not connected somehow. I'm not really a group person, but the travel program was so full it hardly allowed for a moment alone, no time to let it sink in. I was upset that the timing of walks was insane, I mean, who in their right mind goes walking when the sun is hottest? Only stupid tourists asking for sunburn and heatstroke, and us. Oh well, drinking lots of water and walking slowly we managed. Had Bedouin tea in the breaks, boiled on a little wood fire.
And slowly I felt a little bit more connected, both to DP and my surroundings. The visit to the lost city of Petra made it all worthwhile though (and the hamam afterwards!)
It was an 'active' holiday (hiking) and apparently that attracts single travellers. Single as in travelling alone leaving the husband at home. I was the only one who had dragged him along, the other 11 women hadn't! (well, two were widows) Oh, and there were just 3 single men (and really single).

The night in the Wadi Rum desert at new moon was magic, so many stars it made me dizzy to look at. While the group was cracking jokes around the campfire I slipped away to a high dune, watching the stars on my own. Trying to find meaning somehow. The first shooting star left me wondering what I should wish for, but before I could make up my mind I saw another star shooting the opposite direction, and another one across, as if to say not matter what I wish for it may go the other way ...
So instead my tears were flowing down my ears and neck. I missed my friend who knows so much about stars. But neither he nor the stars can tell me what I should do, what the right thing is.
I keep thinking there must be more to life, that I'm doing something wrong, that I'm missing something.
But then the holiday was racing on, camel ride, jeep safari, desert sunset, climbing a waterfall, floating in the Dead Sea. Hardly any opportunity for Big Important Conversations but enough going on to create friction. The last night DP and I almost exploded, accusing each other of a bad mood and spoiling the evening. I could see he honestly thought it was me being difficult while I was thinking I was very reasonable and DP was the difficult one. I fled rather than trying to explain it was really more of a funny situation. Then we gathered with a 'sub-group' of five and had a modern simple incredibly cheap meal of falafel in the new part of Amman (rather than traditional dinners just for tourists for tourist prices)
I was glad I had my few words of Arabic and my long travel skirt to give this adventure that little extra something. I tried not to be upset we didn't do a 4-week trip, it was still worth going even if it was too short. Plus, it's another 'Wonder of the World' on my list. So romantic by night!

Don't

Kids don't make you happier.
'twas a little piece in the newspaper at the end of August. Stated that for decades psychological research has shown that kids don't make you happier.  How does this research go?
Well, take a group of people (couples), ask them how happy they are and we get number H1.
some time later, find the people that have small children, ask again, -> find H2 and, surprise H1 > H2.
Oh, you're not believing it? Well, go back 20 years later when the children are adults, ask for H3 and voila: H3 > H2.
I don't have access to the small print at this moment (I think they excluded divorce situations) but google told me to look here:
    * The social health of Marriage in America, 2006
    * Stumbling on Happiness, Daniel Gilbert's 2006
    * Gross National Happiness, Arthur C. Brooks 2008

alas the links didn't work (at first, fixed now), but even without all that I'm pretty pretty sure infertility was left out of the equation. And it makes me angry. I mean, come on, it sounds like it means I should be happy I don't have my little ones in existence?
Ahh, I know I should be grateful for safe drinking water, not living in a war zone, food, skinny jeans and chocolate phones from LG.

Geez, some internets get in the twists. I had to go back and look some further. Wikipedia quotes Brooks saying that "Parents are happier than the childless, even though their children often upset them."
(and their children often upset the childless too I might add)

Sooooo, where was I? yes, stupid summaries/conclusions. Feeling excluded, being made to feel stupid for being unhappy childless infertile me. Wanting to scream 'but not getting the children I long for makes me MUCH unhappier!!!!

I almost wanted to write that not having a baby makes me much unhappier than a baby ever could, but I don't want to compete in the Pain Olympics here. I've seen blogs with Real Big Struggles and anyone who has read 'The Spohrs are multiplying' knows happiness isn't a simple number.
 Life isn't a - Maddie + Annie = 0.

Rationally then, my life looks not so bad at all. Emotionally I'm still scared of the dark.

Mars and Venus, or How Different People Look Forward to Making a Trip

or, how differently
Today was our last working day before our trip to Jordan. Since it was sunny we went outside for a lunch walk. DP was telling me how stressful it was to wrap up work for a week. How he was discussing with a friend at work that you should indeed block your calendar, switch on your out-of-office-reply, but then go to work and do all the things you normally don't get the time for.
I could not believe my ears. I guess I should not automatically conclude he would rather be at work then tramping through some historic desert with me. He insisted he only meant to say preparations are stressful.
It's just, sometimes I can't believe men and women, he and I are so different.

On the other hand, the scaring tactic to get him vaccinated didn't work, so I had let that go for a while. Then, last Saturday, I casually asked if he was planning on not eating any fresh fruit or vegetables on  the trip to avoid water contaminated with hepatitis A. (At home DP has fruit for breakfast every working day) Then he agreed that he should get the shots. We went together, and it turned out my shots for Egypt from last year were still valid. It was only in the next waiting room that it dawned on him I was there for support only, and it made him smile. Then a male nurse gave him the tip that worked for him: cross your legs (above the knee) and Squeeeze! He didn't even notice that first shot, and got up smiling and relieved after the second shot... I was proud of him, and he was too. The guy said he hadn't had anyone faint on him for over a year, and was pleased to keep his reputation.

Now the last worry is to find some piece of long sleeved clothing that will protect DP from the desert sun in 40C heat. His skin is practically Irish so pale and freckled. (and his father has already  had a spot of skin cancer removed) but the outdoor shops are gearing up for winter sports now..

Oh, and his mother was on the phone, if we would come for dinner on the Sunday. I was mouthing NO, it is the evening before we leave, we need to pack. And he said yes, we will be there and bring the kids...
Aargh, how dare he say preparations are stressful! and then hardly worry about anything, he even did grocery shopping for next week?!
So hard to not take it personally (how could he possibly forget while he was in the supermarket?)

Maybe I wanted this trip to be a magic cure for everything. But BambiEyes already warned that it will be hard work and effort and trying and failing and trying again, to connect the two of us again....

New job

ah, the new job.
On Friday I saw 5 white stretch limousines pull away from the office, apparently an outing for a different department...
So yes, the party side of things is definitely running here.

I'm in the IT department, traditionally populated by 90% male consultants and very few permanent staff. I believe it is quite normal bookkeeping practice in a country where firing (permanent) people costs money and consulting contracts expire for 'free' every 2 months.
This company however prides itself for being cheap. Here consultants are perceived as more expensive (while they do the same work- how unfair) they can choose to move on (they must be disloyal) and somehow not quite human, but replaceable 'knowledge goods'.(staff go through HR, consultants go through Procurement, I'm not kidding) The IT director personally believes consultants are 'necessary evil' and doesn't hesitate to vent her opinion.
Then, long live flexibility, there were weeks with hardly any work for me to do. But they couldn't tell me when it would come in, so please stand by. Sit behind your desk till we remember you, you evil money wasting non-person.

It took me a while to realise this company is not doing me a favor, hiring me. It took a family party where I heard myself saying I could look for another contract because this company is plain schizophrenic.
Just, during the summer holidays where I was trying my best not to be the evil stepmother, that 'I am evil' bee kept buzzing through my head. It was an angry bee I tell you.

SOoo, realizing that I have options has relieved some buzzing. Realizing I don't have to act on that immediately if I don't feel like it has made it easier to accept the work situation.
A week later work started getting busier, that has helped a bit too.

Old job

A year and 9 days ago I left my old job, a job that I loved. Some colleagues had become friends and family. I went through IVF at the same time as someone else... It was more than a job. Lunch walks with BFG, and many more shoulders to cry on.

As a freelance consultant I had a clause in my contract with the intermediary party that I could not go back within a year while not using them. I didn't like that party, and my team was going to be outsourced anyway, so it didn't seem to matter.

But just now a young colleague at the new job rocks up next to my desk, saying he had a good interview at my old job and he can start mid October.
I am so angry now, I can feel it tingle in my fingers. It feels like this sprat it taking my job. My year is over, it feels like I'm entitled to go back. and yes, a little betrayal too. They could have asked me. They should have...
Wow, it's been more than a year and I still don't seem to cope with rejection..... with good things (jobs/pregnancies) passing me by..... if I were two years old I could fling myself on the floor and wail. But I'm at work fighting back tears.

And I have 1 hour left to cheer up before the whole IT department troops into cars and buses and we go for an afternoon of sailing and BBQ after. Fun.

Pfieew! is late now, back from sailing. The weather cleared up, some sun between the clouds, nice breeze, in other words perfect sailing conditions. Focusing on wind direction, speed and trim did actually help to not think about the rest for a couple of hours. Not carrying the concrete block around for a while. So this afternoon was definitely more fun than crying at home would have been. Thanks for cheering me on.
Can go to bed with rosy cheeks now......

My brother

My phone gives me a text message when I miss a call. So when I saw a missed call from my brother I sent off an email asking if he had good news about his new job. When I didn't get a reply I just assumed there was no news just yet.
I was wrong. Well, about the job I was right, it was the good news part. He wanted to tell me personally. Yep, you guessed it, his wife is pregnant again. The due date is next May. MAY?? That is, like, nine months from now! yes yes, he knows things could maybe not go according to plan, but he wanted to tell me anyway.
It is not that I didn't expect it, if this works the kids will be 25 months apart, so the part of my brain that can count had already worked out this was a possibility.
I don't know. I don't know how I feel. I know I could feel happy or sad. Or both. But knowing and feeling are different things. And I don't know how to feel it.

And always such a very little remark with a sting "what good a summer holiday can do". (They went to Hawaii recently) Dear brother, that's not just a little sting, that is pure IF venom. But I didn't say anything. He knows that my 8 month long break was good for nothing.

The weather turned grey again. I'm so tired of it already, it makes me feel so grey on the inside.
And on those endless grey days it is so hard to believe the sun will shine again.

Sigh, should check if he told DP when he answered the phone. But don't feel like talking. At least it is bedtime over here.

Early morning

It's one of those mornings.
The younger kid wakes up and trudges upstairs and crawls in bed with DP. First the mad scramble to put on some underwear before he's allowed under the cover. Then I sneak off to the bathroom and put on yesterdays clothes, not to return to the big bed....
I just can't do it.
I try to understand how important it is to DP. That half sleepy state, the closeness. The chance to bury your nose in the hair of someone you love, the falling asleep again.
I just can't do it.
I'm hoping the kids would grow out of it, but have been hoping for 5 years now. The oldest doesn't come anymore when I'm still in the bed, but I'm thinking he just picks up on my bad vibes. Because the weekend I fled it was all three of them in the big man bed.
I was telling myself I'd get used to it....
I just can't do it.
I'm telling myself that if it bothers me so much I should discuss it again with DP, I know he misses me when I sneak away. But I feel like such a failure. (and one of my rules is: discuss it or shut up about it, but whatever you do, no moaning)

My revenge plan for today is to lure DP into the outdoor shop and ask the travel doctor to stab him with the vaccinations.... ha, made myself smile there.

It's going to be an interesting weekend since the oldest stepkid is sick and didn't come. It's the first time with just one kid. I'm hoping it will be easier, but right now he is trying to get my attention and help for setting the breakfast table. I better try and reward him....
Have a good weekend!

Preparations

Listening to Sweet G's advice I've been preparing to get in the mood for this trip, leaving in 4 weeks and a bit.
In the library I raided the travel section (lonely planet - both the guide and travel stories, Insight Guide) then on to the 'other countries' section for some books on culture and lastly the 'ancient era' section for a book called "The lost civilization of Petra" . The title alone makes me smile, makes me remember and dust off that feeling of thrill of discovery.
Of course a little voice tells me that my expectations are so high I can only be disappointed, but, knowing that, I might just be back to normal curious. I know that magic doesn't always happen when and where you want it to, but, well, it could.
Today I realised I skipped the language section, so will go back for a phrasebook Arabic (and maybe some more history: Petra and the lost kingdom of the Nabataeans.) I love being able to count to ten and saying simple hello's in different languages. Maybe this time I'll try to learn some Arabic letters again. I managed 18 years ago for a week in Morocco, but forgot to try in 2009 when travelling through Egypt.
Tomorrow DP will try to get a passport. Still debating whether or not I should convince him to get vaccinations. It's recommended (DTP and hepatitis A) but not mandatory. And he is terrified of needles. (I once made him faint by just telling a story) What would you do?
I guess I could not worry, taking into account he is a grown man and makes his own decisions...

It was fun browsing the web for water carrying systems like Camelbak and Platypus, it really helps to get into believing that I might be walking through a desert and needing water. It shouldn't be too hot in October, just enjoyable
please little voice at the back, stop the sighing, and stop suggesting that if even this doesn't work it's time to finally leave DP...

Update: I just paid the full amount for the trip, an important step in making this really happen!
Little voice getting fainter already
1,2,3 (wahid ithnan thalatha) I'm off reading!

Less than six degrees

Yesterday was a big family get together with DPs family from his fathers side. His father has 5 sisters and 4 of them have children and grandchildren. In total around 50 people between 1 and 70-something. Only during breakfast DP said we had to hurry because this all started around 11. We didn't even have time to buy some gifts for the family hosting it... (And I didn't have a chance to come up with an excuse to not go) So, we went and were the last ones to arrive. At first I was trying to hide in a corner, but his family noticed me anyway. I hope I didn't offend them by not being able to tell them apart, I've only met them once or twice before, and always all of them together. After the rain and coffee were cleared away we went for a walk so it was easy to mix and mingle (or be on my own for a bit) At the next stop with drinks and nibbles a lady my age came up to me and asked my name, and then my last name. And then ever so carefully asked me if maybe I had worked at this other Telco in Amsterdam. Yes I have, that was 1999. She wasn't too sure she recognised me at first sight. My hair has gone curly in the mean time (and so had hers). And that twentysomething bouncing girl sooo eager to discover the world has gone travelling around. But this trying to settle-and-have-a-baby-30s thing isn't quite the same. And then I spilled my entire IF story, cheerfully interrupted by her almost two year old who was getting tired and being adorable at the same time. Nibbly ears, and such a very soft little neck that begged to be tickled, so I tickled him. She told me that when she met her love at said Telco, who we worked out must be a cousin of DP, they already saw people around them struggling to conceive. So they decided to not wait till they were married, because you never know how long it is going to take. Boy one arrived before they even had a chance to plan that party. So instead the party was a year later. Story made me smile, so glad some people know how happy they are. And so were boy two and three.
Another cousin appeared to have moved into a houseboat just down the road after having lived in China for a year. I mean, it's hardly 200 meters away, what are the chances?
Another funny thing with this family was people talking about holidays. DP and I have been in a funk about holidays. In 2006 DP pointed out a trip to me that took my breath away: in 28 days from Istanbul to Cairo, going past the hidden rock church Petra in Jordan. But he's been wriggling out of this, because of work, because of kids... and every year we put it off that crack in my heart became a little bigger. So when he started about this 8 day walking to Petra trip I was all 'yes yes, I'll believe it when I see it'. But yesterday he told his entire family. And hours after I had gone to sleep he woke me up asking for my passport. And he said he booked the trip in the middle of the night as there were only 3 spots left.
Wow.
This morning he started asking me questions about how one obtains a passport in this city. (His European ID card will not suffice outside Europe) so it is sounding all serious.
I'm mad at myself for not being happy, for not believing, for not being able to shake the grumpiness or hopelessness...
(DP biting my head off when I pointed out he needed to go to the city hall for finger prints and therefore he can not apply for a passport online didn't help)

fight or flight

My mother is a fighter. The operation was a piece of cake, and she was so happy when my father and I picked her up from the hospital the same day. When I noted she was slightly greenish she explained that was 'contrast fluid' floating around, that she would have green pee for a while and didn't feel a thing. Not to worry then.
My brother had sent a lovely big bunch of flowers and even while on Hawaii managed to get the timing just right. Bonus points for brother.
The next day she had to dress up, and called me to tell that a certain jacket was now fitting better then before. And today she called to say she had played tennis (and won) and was almost ashamed of feeling so fit and healthy.

Last Saturday I tried to be on my best behaviour for kid-weekend. I got up early and went out to get fresh bread for breakfast. While I was in the kitchen the first thing I heard from the kids was a hushed 'shut up' (in bad language) from one step kid to the other. The other appeared in the kitchen shortly after, looked at the table and said 'Why are there only two of those bread rolls?'. Good morning kiddo, nice to have you back. Isn't it nice I got 4 kinds of fresh bread? and 10 small white rolls? I know not to expect kids to be grateful, I did bite my tongue and stuck to the good morning bit, but on the inside I cringed, my stomach shrunk and I knew I couldn't do it. After breakfast I talked with DP, told him I had to leave. That BFG had a free spot in the car for a weekend of hiking the tidal flats of the Waddensea, that I would be back on Sunday.
Small crisis ensued, DP asking if he should worry about BFG and me. Me answering the real worry is between DP and me. We talked a bit.
DP walked me to the train station, and when he waved goodbye I could see his eyes small with worry. I'm sorry it takes a crisis before he opens up, shows me he has feelings too, shows me he cares. Did feel guilty about that. But when BFG's car drove on the highway I was relieved to put miles between me and the weekend I didn't want.
Breathing the sea air was wonderful, walking through sea water on Sunday even better. Even at 5 AM
When I got back it was like nothing bad had ever happened.
Seven stages of grief? I guess I'm back at denial...

Oh, and I forgot to push the publish button on Friday..
Off to SAIL now. This weekend is wonderful, hope yours is too.

email

Still too frustrated to write about the holiday. After a relaxing week at work am still gritting my teeth, and am not sure how to cope with the stepkids again this weekend. Considering to just flee somewhere on Saturday, not to come back before Sunday evening.
This month is the twelfth month away from my previous company, away from fabulous colleagues. No point in being too sad because 60% of them has disappeared when I did.
Anyway, this morning I received an email from someone (young Pakistani guy living in London) who left long before I did.

hi valery,

how are you? long time... what are you upto these days?.. where are you working? (if indeed you are at all working?)...

this morning i had a dream where you came to me and showed me your baby.. you were extremely happy... so i kissed you on both your cheeks, as form of congrats... and you said thank you!...

i thought i'd let you know...

brgds

Not sure how this makes me feel, a bit weird?

Survival trip

First fights are fought, first legs of journey are made.
Some people call it holiday, or vacation--- ahh the stress---
The first surprise was the rental car (isn't there always a 'surprise' when renting cars?) They didn't have the station car we reserved, but gave us a big black shiny taxi like sedan. DP denies he was cursing while trying to pack everything into the boot/trunc/back of the car, while illigally parked in our very narrow street. The boys think it is a cool car, or whatever the latest word for cool is. I'm a bit scared that the car is so big. And so wide. Would I be able to drive it? There are too many buttons! It can play DVDs! In front! The glove box is air conditioned!

Would the average French campsite even allow us between the tents with a car this big?
O well, deep sigh, deep breath, how bad will it be? Tomorrow Europe will be one big traffic jam while we try to cross Belgium west to east, then Luxemburg north to south and then some of France.

O dear, while typing on a strange computer (at DPs parents house) I suddenly find the spell checker changed languages on me... so sorry for my home made spelling.
Just wanted to let you know I will be thinking of you for the next two weeks, but most likely unable to be online. It would be hard keeping this blog private with 3 people hovering around me in a French internet cafe. Oh and French keyboards? Hopeless! I probably wouldn't even get past my password. Speaking of which, I found it quite inspiring to have my password at work sounding like 'willsurvive' At work it tells me I will survive another day. And for this trip, it is only two weeks, and BambiEyes agrees I should take a break if it is getting a bit much every now and then. Take care, know I wish you good news and hope and health and see you in August again.

peanut

On Thursday the 8th during lunch break I called my mother to see how she was doing with her jet lag. It turned out she had been walking around the phone telling herself not to call me because she didn't want to worry me. 'About what, mum?' Well, see, they hadn't told her yet. 'Told you what, mum?' What the result of her biopsy was after her bi-annual mammogram had shown something the size of a peanut. I promised not to worry, she promised to call back after she had spoken with the doctor that afternoon. The result was bad, so I went over for tea so she could tell me about MRI, operation and radiation. But, she figured since it was all about a peanut sized lump it would probably be alright, since peanuts are small. She was just hoping they could fit in the operation followed by 5 weeks radiation before their trip to Italy mid September.
Since my mother was quite her cheerful normal erratic self I'm not too worried just yet. Just try to listen more patiently. Cooked dinner once (my mother doesn't like cooking much). Try to treat her like normal so she can keep being normal for now. The operation will be a day job, come in 7 am, leave 7 pm. I figure that by then it may feel more serious. Or that 5 weeks long of daily visits for daily 1 minute radiation would make one feel not so good or cheerful. I'll be there, then. But will not predict doom and gloom. I'm not explaining that the MRI is not worth worrying about (G, it's just a big magnet in a machine) but accepting that as projection of fear. At least it is visible...

Strange thoughts going through my head. Like- if she dies I don't have to try to live anymore.
Or-I should hurry and get on with DE quickly so she can still have a grandchild to live for.
Maybe- I should ask mum about it being hereditary-maybe I should not ask her for fear she worries about that too. She already feels guilty about my infertility.

Today she kicked the upstairs tenants out for lunch and some DIY shopping so she and my father could babysit their 8 month old. I stopped by earlier to meet her Swiss cousin and had a chance to cuddle with the baby afterwards (he weighs a TON and loved grabbing my hair, it was nice and comforting to carry him around, but also good to put him down again, so heavy)

Waiting for both life lessons and panic to kick in. For now just taking care of my sore muscles from last nights skate tour over to IJburg.

PS thank you for pointing out I could eat pills for upping my iron. I figured I should just be a better person and eat a bit more broccoli, cashew nuts and apricots and such

Hb

I went to the blood donation center again, but didn't pass the test for Hb. At first it was a young guy poking me twice, saying the readings weren't right, they were too low. He got a more experienced colleague who managed to squeeze darker drops of blood from my finger, so readings went from 5.9 and 6.1 (which they did not want to tell me) to 6.7 and 6.8 Fairly inexact science I suppose, but none of these values anywhere near the required 7.8 minimum for donation. And depending on whose definition of anemia you use (W.H.O. says 7.4 here they say 6.5) I'm getting there. The supervising doctor asked if I had maybe exercised a lot lately, among other things. Well, yes, I started working full time and cycling 10 km back and forth. They only wanted to make sure it was safe to let me go, as I was on my bike and all.
Strange situation, because knowing the low number and their concern I suddenly felt more tired, was aware of the occasional dizzy spell and was afraid to exercise in the heat.
I guess I'm practicing with little blog posts about little things again. Maybe the other things that bug me will slowly get within reach.

Orange

Did you see the Google today?
Tonight is the final of the soccer world championship, and the Dutch team is in it, playing against Spain. I'm no fan of soccer, I find it a strange combination of sport and theater. But tonight I will join DP and go to the big screen on museum square, oh, excuse me, the mega screen. Some claim it is the biggest in Europe.... (See? some people feel on top of the world already.) Predictions are there will be 100.000 people watching there tonight. Walking distance from where I live. That in itself is enough to rip open my cocoon of sadness. I'll go to feel the vibe, to feel something that only happens rarely. I'm hoping for a real big party, for not thinking about me and how I dread the upcoming summer holiday camping with stepkids. Hoping to feel part of something bigger, part of a little country going crazy.
And orange.

neighbour baby

Our neighbours had a baby girl on the second of June. When they were back from the hospital a few days later, I had a sneak preview at the baby while the father was busy outside sticking a stuffed stork to the house. Soon after I caught a terrible cold so was excused for a traditional new baby visit. But during those two weeks DP kept bugging me about us buying a gift. I wasn't feeling too good to begin with so on Saturday I told him to take care of it.
He came home with a gorgeous, tiny white baby dress. He showed me, and then casually laid it on the bed where I was hiding. I just had to leave. But I found crying on the bathroom floor quite uncomfortable so hesitantly returned to his arms.
I was so touched by the size of the dress, its total cuteness... and so hurt it was not for us.
Felt a bit better when I took it downstairs and covered it in gift wrapping paper.
On Sunday we had a rather uneventful visit, the little girl fell asleep 10 minutes before we came in and didn't wake up while we had cake and tea. We stayed for another cup of tea, their 5-y-o boy showed me his room and new train track he had built with DPs younger son (7) but she just kept on sleeping.
I had to leave for a family birthday party that was quite enjoyable (leaving DP and the boys to themselves)

Projection or something

projection or association, sometimes I don't know which feelings are 'real' and which ones come from the stages of grief. I'm not good with anger. Don't know how to deal with it without damage. But anger is in my life now, and it is linked with DP.
My friend mailed me this bit:

Maybe you're tired of all the heartache you've had with DP. Do you know what I mean? Sometimes the person gets associated with the pain, though it's no one's fault. When I am sad, sometimes I feel like leaving and starting a clean slate. But where would that get me?

I'd still have to deal with me.

It is so true.
I am still angry DP needed 1 year extra time to be ready for TTC. Somehow I'm not angry with myself for not running to a hospital 6 months earlier. It is only now that I realise I could have tried to explain the rush I felt much earlier, could have found out my statistics.
But still I'm angry with DP, not me. So I guess I made DP the object of my anger.
Makes it pretty hard to remember the good parts. I try every day though.

I suppose with BFG the opposite is happening. For starters there's little pressure, no promises. If he is unavailable I tell myself he has his own life. And when we do have dinner together and I can lean against his shoulder I allow myself to think he saves me. I do say out loud that I don't know what to do and it doesn't sound bad. No stepkids to rub in the pain.
When I hide in his hug it feels like everything will be alright.


Pffff. When I started TTC I thought it would be the start of a period of special happiness, something that would confirm the bond I had with DP, strengthen our relationship. When the babydream fell apart it made tears in our closeness, widened the gap between his fatherhood and my childlessness. And while I realise that a DE baby needs a strong foundation to flourish I find it hopelessly unfair that 'no baby' can do damage in so little time that no DE-baby can hope to repair.

I try to be fair to me, my feelings, DP and a possible future baby but I never thought it would be this hard. Sometimes I feel like giving up, indeed wanting to start with a clean slate. Ask BFG what his favorite country is and move there for some adventure together.
I have never done the baby-contemplation thing before. (I've moved around the world plenty) I've never been in a relationship for more than three and something years, never made it through the bad times.
Only wise enough to see what a fool I am. I'm hopeless in choosing and making decisions ( I know that much about me) I don't want to lead myself just away from pain to foolish hope, I want to do it right, preferably not breaking any one's heart
But hey baby VV you broke mine by not existing....

Fog

Hi there.
A week ago I had my meeting with BambiEyes, and I m still brooding over it. My homework is clear: make my choice about pursuing DE before my birthday. (Next week, 38, eeeeek)
And that seems to be the easy choice.
Like Fran pointed out in her comment there is something hovering in the background. It's a bit of a long story but I'll give it a try.
When we started the infertility train I talked a lot to (and with) my colleagues. Shared my sadness about all things medical going on. Generally one-on-one conversations near the coffee machine, or during lunch break walks. I was surprised that a few of my male colleagues were moved to the point of wanting to be there for me, to do something. To help. Donate their gametes. One dark guy A, another one Z resembling DP. I would smile sadly admitting that that was not a solution to my egg problem. When the timing issue showed up they offered again. And one time when DP refused my attempt at timed int. I had a really really rough day not asking for physical help. I think that was the day I took BFG out for dinner and told him my story for the first time. He listened, without offering "help". Funny detail: A was TTC for his first son and having cycle drama, Z was expecting his second daughter, BFG single. Sometimes I find this world hard to understand, it seems such a topsy-turvy place.
Soon BFG became the one I turned to for normal kinds of help. With numbers, working out when to take a HPT. When I miscarried and DP said not to worry because we would see the doctor the next day, BFG would listen to me cry on the phone.
At the beginning of 2009 DP told me he was uncomfortable with me having an emotional bond with BFG, that to him that connection counts as having an affair.
I found that very difficult, still do. I'm not giving up that friendship. I need someone to talk to, someone who makes me feel that everything will be alright. I think that is the hardest part of infertility for me. I used to dream of DP and me, our babies, our little family, our bigger family, our future. Writing this makes me cry, because I know I've lost that dream.
Shouldn't people who get married share a dream of a future? Still 37 for a few more days, so probably I'm only halfway my life. Bit early to only dream of the past...

March 17, 2009 and the doctor loaded the wrong movie for the rest of my life. It has a fair resemblance, but it is ever so subtly wrong. Part of me still waits for someone or something to wake me up and apologise for the mistake. The other part of me tells me it is in the middle of the night 2:30 AM and I should go to sleep.
Good night, sweet dreams.

New Reality

Still treading water at new job. Almost more depressing doing nothing at work than at home.
Last Thursday I had an email from BigFriendlyGiant. BFG and I used to walk during lunch break at my previous job. Last week he went out alone, I went out alone at my new office. Somehow I found it really depressing, missing my former work and colleagues in general, and BFG in particular. When he said he missed me too it hurt. He is always there for me, and I couldn't be there for him.
Friday night I felt drained and down and unable to go out. watched TV all evening. DP wanted to watch a different show so he spent the evening in front of a different screen on the floor above me.
For the long weekend I found it hard to make plans, so Saturday we kept it easy, shopping, laundry, sitting on balcony. Sunday we took the train, and did a nice hiking trail to the beach. While we were walking DP brought up the DE subject and how I struggle with it. I found it hard to get his feelings on the subject, he only said it depends on me. But it was a good conversation, covering some stepchildren topics as well.
On Monday we did a combined bicycle-sailing day, and even though I didn't enjoy the sailing like I used to it was a good day. So we did lots of outdoor activities and had loads of sunshine in the three day weekend.
Sunshine never fails to cheer me up...
Monday just before dinner DP asked me out of the blue if we shouldn't get married (moeten we eigenlijk niet eens trouwen?)
My heart jumped up in a happy way, I was surprised and confused as well. I asked him why (hoe kom je daar ineens bij) and he said just checking (nou gewoon). Gewoon means 'as usual' but it is hardly usual, especially not for someone who said no three years and 49 weeks ago.
It's a week later now, and I'm still feeling confused.
DP suddenly coming home with two bouquets of flowers for the first time in four years only adds to the confusion. I guess I find it hard to change my mind for a third time. I feel like he is asking even more commitment from me while I'm finding it harder every day to accept the life we're living. I find it hard to put into words how I feel about his boys. I don't have a problem taking care of them, taking responsibility, having authority, playing The Settlers of Catan Junior, respecting their loyalty to their mother. ( yes, I do feel hurt when they feel the need to point out to strangers that I'm not their mother) I feel vaguely guilty for not loving them, I had expected that loving DP would give me an automatic subscription for loving his offspring.
Some dutch news site proclaimed that permanent customers show 2 out of 3 signs of 'real love' towards certain companies: they get that feeling of security and intimacy. I'm only feeling slightly suffocated if the boys want to hold my hand or a cuddle. I even avoid wearing soft fabrics as to not invite them to touch me. While with other people I'm fairly touchy feely. Yesterday they were all away for a kids party.
In the morning my mother spoilt me for an early birthday present, dressed me up in electric blue top, grey pants and dark blue cashmere/silk scarf. Thanks so much mom, they make me look stunning, love it. In the afternoon two former colleagues (she Chinese, he Malaysian) came over from Delft and London and I showed them around Amsterdam, the canals, markets and tiny China Town. I served them fresh mint tea on my balcony and enjoyed giving them a good time. Walked them back to the station and took a train myself for dinner with BFG. I told him that sometimes I feel like a fly that keeps buzzing into the window, not seeming to understand that I can't pass through the glass, so drawn to the light. Have to remember I can fly....

Only one?

DP has been saying lately he just wants one more child. Part of me knows I should be happy if we manage at all.
Another part of me worries about not having a sibling, two seems like a minimum to me. Especially if DE comes into play, I wouldn't want a child to have to deal with that all alone. I'd want my baby to have an ally, someone in the same situation. Someone to show that despite the same genetics people are different, but alike.

The voice of BambiEyes pops back into my head: maybe I should contact DE parents for support. Not ready for that yet.

I guess for now the idea of one DE baby with two part time half-brothers (and who knows two donor-half-sisters) seems a touch too complicated. It is not the big happy family I dreamed of. It sounds more like a cheap soap opera with bad acting that needed yet another twist in the plot.

Blah. Deep sigh. Maybe this is CD2 talking. (Thank you big unknown void for not descending upon me quite yet)

First days

Slow motion madness sums it up, my first days back at work.
I'd forgotten what that felt like. Everyone is way too busy to tell me what to do so I'm quietly figuring things out myself.
And I brought my own teamaker and cookies to occupy the rest of my time.
As for Mijke's comment: the office chairs are great. The second morning we had an almost disaster on the way to work: the steering bar of the tandem became undone so the bike was suddenly out of control. We almost smashed into a concrete pillar. DP managed to stop the bike just an inch before, but I flew off. Managed to deflect myself off the pillar, but in doing so hurt my wrist, bruised my knee and inner thigh. Woow the adrenaline rush, my right leg was shaking so mightily after getting up again.
Since it happened quite close to a train/tube station I wanted to leave the bike with the station's bike repair shop and continue with public transport. After limping over with a bike that wouldn't go straight the man had the right Allen key and repaired it within 30 seconds. It will take a little longer to get our confidence back though, but we cycled on nevertheless, a fair bit slower. Today it was wet on the road and DP was very considerate taking the corners easy. My knee is still a bit sore but I'm lucky it hasn't swollen. Phew. It could have been so much more serious. But it should never have happened in the first place.
As for the work itself, I'd forgotten that even though I consider myself senior and confident and professional and all that it's still an empty and useless feeling being clueless. Not much documents around so I'll have to get people to explain, can't hide behind paper or read again. O well, it will get better, and they are nice people. Cowboys, but nice.
And I'm not as tired as I was afraid I would be, so that's nice too.

On Sunday I asked DP if I should take him out for dinner so we had some quiet time to talk a bit more about DE. He said our Sunday asparagus dinner would be fine but then I forgot/wasn't sure what we should talk about.
Its a split sensation. I know I want to do this, I'm pretty sure I will.
On the other hand it seems an entirely new decision, a new 'are we ready for this', a new 'will you and I be the right people together for this more complicated life'.
I used to be 100% sure I wanted our child to have my last name. Hey, only fair, DP already had two. Then in 2009 both my brother and a cousin became fathers of mylastname babies.
And with DE I suddenly find the last name thing confusing. Should a child with the uncommon origin of DE have the (common) name that comes with the genes? So stressing the connection with its half-brothers? Or should I leave a 'visible' trace, something for everyone to clearly see I'm the mother, that my family is family too?

This 'cycle' is a weird one. I started spotting chocolate on CD8 and have been since, it's now CD29. It's getting a bit long. This happened one time before (May-July 2009) and back then u/s showed a cyst that went away by itself, in a mock 50 day cycle. I'm assuming it's part of the collapse of the cycle and its hormones. Guess I'm just glad I don't have any other menopausal symptoms (yet)

Enough computer time, looking forward to the library tomorrow.

Job

It looks like I've got myself a job. Had the interview this morning, talked for 25 minutes, had a sip of water and was told to start tomorrow, oh wait, we need a desk, why don't I start on Monday? It's at DP's company, we will cycle to work together, 10 km.

So now I should quickly enjoy my last days of freedom. Hurry! Oh, and please supply my tax number and VAT number and this that and the other.... DP is at the Efteling fun park with the boys today, could I please arrange for a meal with some vitamins? since my parents want to take the four/six of us on the all you can eat pancake boat trip tomorrow...

It was nice to be a capable and confident professional again. It didn't feel like pretending at all. There are things I'm actually good at. And I didn't feel the urge to scream about infertility, nor am I afraid I'll forget. Had an enjoyable lunch with a colleague. And I forgot how much I like my business clothes and wearing high heels.

On the way back I treated myself with a shopping basket full of special flavour tea, chocolate and cookies and had a private tea party when I got home.

Koninginnedag

Today is Queens Day in the Netherlands.

The sun came out in the afternoon and my city was almost one big party, dress code orange. Music everywhere, people on the street selling anything from toys to food.

What made it more special than other years is that I ran into FriendofaFriend around the corner where she was selling her children's old toys, with her two girls I think 4 and 6. Her husband was around as well and I couldn't help but notice his eyes were light blue while FoF's were light brown. And while their youngest daughter had brown eyes and blond hair the older girl had dark blue eyes and light brown hair. Normal, lovely kids. So yes, I was trying to imagine what it would be like if indeed we embarked on a DE adventure, have a half sibling...
It was so nice to talk to her, giving her the carrot burger recipe, talking about little life things. We exchanged email and home addresses (after I realised I only knew her first name) and I think we might meet again some time soon to maybe talk a bit more about DE.

Oh, and I did send my CV yesterday. Almost at the exact moment that BambiEyes mentioned work a former colleague emailed about an opportunity, at DP's company again. I only read it on Thursday, called him straight away and he asked if I could send my CV very soon. I need to redo it, but decided to send a slightly updated version from what I had ready instead of being late (or, too late) I can agonise over a better CV later if I need to...

Small steps

BambiEyes saved me again.
That is the good thing of seeing her once a month, she tells me a lot had happened in April.
My cousin said no about DE - and I hid my pain from her.
I made a visit to tiniest and loveliest baby with best mom.
We bought baby clothes together. And I loved pushing the pram.
I went to toy shop to buy a wooden duck with flappy feet to push around for my nephews first birthday. Took it all the way to London. Spent a weekend with my brother, nephew and sister in law. Just growing quiet. Not really feeling the pain then, only really tired.
Dublin was lovely, very impressive and nice to meet my bloggy friends. ( no time or energy to process so many emotions. Just kept running around to pack all the good experiences in two days)
Back home so so tired. No words to describe to DP what I feel.
DP just going on about making holiday plans with his kids and I don't know how to say I'm dreading that something horrible.

Soooo, said BambiEyes, that's an awful lot to go through! And locking up sadness is only making you depressed. Asking the big questions is too hard and making you feel down even more. Therefore: Small Steps, Small Questions.
Trying to answer the question if I'll ever be able to be a happy stepgrandmother is like trying to prevent world war three. Says my BambiEyes.
Talk to DP, even though you don't know all the answers. First find a way to break up next weeks holiday in day trips with breaks for me. Take DP out, sit on a terrasje and talk. Or hold hands. Be together.
And think about working a bit, because working with my emotions all day is getting a bit much.

Then I went home much relieved.
The newspaper had a recipe for carrot burgers with garlic-mint-mayonnaise which I made, so yummy and healthy tasting. After that I dragged DP out of the house even though he claimed to be too tired. We walked, tried talking, I cried on his shoulder, I shared my feelings. He seemed to take it all in his stride. This morning while he was still sleepy I asked him how it made him feel. Nothing special he said. {message from Venus to Mars: I am looking for compassion, for sharing sadness and joy. I'm hoping you will make me feel safe with you. This answer only makes me feel you don't care!} When I then asked if he was getting tired of me being depressed, if he just wanted this to be over he said I must not think that.

So small steps, small questions. And taking better care of myself. Because BambiEyes said, yes, really, that I need to take care of myself in order to take care of my possible unborn future little ones.

Library

Went to the library this morning and started looking up books on egg cell donation. Three of them in total, and none available right now.
Secretly I was relieved.
I guess ever since the last meeting at BambiEyes I haven't really understood myself. For a year I had been thinking about donor eggs, since this winter I have been communicating about it (well, been trying to) and now that I have some answers I don't know what to do.
Maybe I'm not as ready as I thought I would be.
Maybe it bugs me with the whole infertility shebang that feelings can be so strong sometimes, but so hard to put into words other times.

With the blog it seemed logical that I would write about London and Dublin but somehow I was too tired. In my little travel guidebook it even said to stop and enjoy the peace and quiet of the seaside walk I was doing. Instead I walked quicker, trying to avoid my thoughts...

Maybe not so strange I felt sad when I was home again. I don't know. Was I really thinking the answers about my relationship with DP would come to me on that trip? Would my life be more bearable without stepkids? would it really be easier to move on to a childless partner to maybe have DE baby with, or maybe travel more together and cope without children together?
Would I never manage to keep a relationship longer than 5 years?

Tomorrow I'll see BambiEyes, hope she can show me how to untie this knot I'm in...

Dublin Blog Dinner

Plans!
I've booked my tickets: Rail and Sail on the way in on Monday 19th of April arriving in Dublin round 17h.
I'll fly out again on the Thursday. So I'd like to invite you all for a dinner somewhere in between.
Please vote for Monday Tuesday or Wednesday! (well, if you intend to come that is)
I'm hoping for a simple but nice place where we can talk, so suggestions for your fav EKO cafe are very welcome too, since I've never been to Dublin before.

This weekend was family weekend from my mothers family. Much fun was had in a brightly coloured family-farm.
It was so good to cook for twelve people! If I had been born 200 years ago and would have had all my dream babies, who knows if it would have been anything like that. (DP, if you should ever read this, remember this is my diary, my dreams and fears. Not everything is a plan to make a reality.) Farm was in the middle of nowhere, and much cycling was done. Loved it.
Was a bit awkward cycling next to -- o my, how am I going to tell all my cousins and their partners apart?-- boyfriend-of-no-DE-favourite-cousin. Totally avoided the whole DE question. But it took the shine off a little of seeing my favourite cousin again. I didn't want to share my sadness, wanted to pretend nothing has changed. It seemed to work for everyone else.
Managed to be in a different part of the farmhouse when my brother was telling stories about little nephew. Saturday I'll be off to London for his first birthday. I find it difficult to 'feel like an aunt', just don't know what an aunt should feel like.
If I look back I have one (childless by choice) aunt who is like a second mother to me and lives close by. Four other aunts, gosh how do I say, lovely (in-law?) family members I've always taken for granted? They are just there? Special but not special?
So maybe I shouldn't worry about not feeling very aunty like, being in a different country and all.
My brother mentioned to DP he was happy I'm finally visiting. I'll try to be happy yet another weekend.
And afterwards a British train should rock me for hours, then a ferry can cover my face with salty Irish spray. Hope Dublin will embrace another infertile, will fill me with wonder. And Good Food!

Easter survived

Dragons were tamed, Friday was Good.

After crying on BFG shoulder on Thursday I was home late enough that everyone was in bed already. (YoungerStepson almost 7, OlderStepson almost 11 and DP too) Just one night before facing Friday. I knew beforehand that a whole day at home with the boys would mean trouble. I needed a Plan, and the Plan was dragon movie with a twist: I invited the neighbour's kid too. He is only 5 and a half and adores the bigger boys, while in turn the boys understand they have to be a bit more careful and not fight all the time.
We started the day with inline skating on our local playground, everyone on the next pair of skates, bigger feet again... Oldest kid on my old skates! The weather was nice so we had a good hour to release some energy before the movie.
I was a bit hesitant to go to the 3D version, and neighbour agreed with me and drove all of us to the mega cinema for a 2D early afternoon showing.
The boys were fine, and came out with their arms wide, flying like dragons. Having so much fun that neighbour and me could sit down for fresh mint tea. Relaxed conversation swinging back and forth between my infertility and grief and her pregnancy, my counsellor and her baby-girlie-wallpaper she had bought while we were in the cinema. She understands enough to not be insensitive, I think she is still a bit shocked by her miscarriage last summer. (I think she was 12 weeks or so, and needed a D&C as well) She never had much chance to grieve before this pregnancy I think. But this was not discussed.
I was happy I didn't have to face the day alone and think in the end the day was good for everyone.
Cooked a simple macaroni-ham-cheese dinner (OK, I admit I snuck in small pieces of tomato/carrot/celery/sweet pepper) mostly because that was my favourite food way back. And because I expected little kid-resistance that way. It worked. YS asked if we could have this more often.

Then I was tired.
Saturday morning when I was trying to relax in the shower, working up the energy to face the kids THREE more days I was crying when DP suddenly walked in on me. When he asked what's wrong I only gave him the short version, that I find it hard to have to think so much about having a baby. I didn't have the breath to tell him how hard his proposed 'trade-off' is for me, to take on his kids as if they are mine before we have more. I can't do it I don't think.
We don't even dare to take the boys for a haircut for fear of upsetting their mother. They look like mushrooms now.
Saturday we went to the beach. My highschool girlfriend's parents still have a seaside apartment, and she goes there with her husband and almost 3 year old son. With curly hair, dark lashes and blue eyes he is irresistible. And cute.
After the rain clouds cleared the sun came out and we went for a walk on the beach.
I think it was the first time ever I saw sea stars on a Dutch beach! Have to grab DPs phone tonight so I can show off precious little picture.
Sunday was time out day.
Monday we travelled by train to DPs parents, as did his brother with his family. So again an afternoon with three boys (nephew is two and a half) No wonder I'm spent. DP had not dared to tell me his parents had ordered a cold 'fish-dish' for dinner again, he was afraid I wouldn't come... But I was past caring. I can survive on buttered toast and eat salmon just for show.
As a treat on the way back we took a gamble with changing trains: from silly stops-everywhere-train arriving 20:08 to smooth international train leaving 20:08 on different platform and it paid off. Running up and down stairs, hopping over suitcases delaying its timely departure. Nice seats, hardly any stops. For 58 minutes it was just the two of us, together. Easter survived.

He said maybe, she said no

Even before gardening yesterday my cousin told me her answer was no. She had given it serious thought, discussed it with her boyfriend and her best (girl) friend but kept having doubts. And therefore wisely said she shouldn't do it.
Most likely she wouldn't have made it through the screening anyway.

Gardening was nice, ripping out slabs of stone covered with mud and grass. Good let out for hidden anger and pain. On the outside we had a good time together. On the inside I was slowly crumbling...
After another cup of tea I fled before dinner. So grateful that BigFriendlyGiant lives in the same city, would meet me for dinner with just minutes notice. And lend me his shoulder to cry on. Many more minutes.

Rationally I knew this would happen. Emotionally it still hurts. I guess that's OK.
It's just that in the past week two strangers remarked how alike we were, we could be sisters.

rational, emotional and the theory of mind

Last week I've been practicing with BambiEyes for the meeting that DP and I will have with her today.
It was hard to put into words, but she made me realise that is based on trying to find rational words for a deeply emotional desire. That it is part of my biology to want to be pregnant (Gah, I never got around to writing a post titled Boobs are for Babies)
I found myself saying that being pregnant means that the human being growing from tiny cells is essentially my flesh and blood, in the most literal sense. Part of my body, part of me, part of my dream.

And then this post was sitting there, being too hard to finish. Because in that session I said out loud that I will not stay with DP if he is not in on the DE journey.
Two days ago DP asked suddenly: 'Why are we going to see BambiEyes again?'
me: 'To talk about what we can/want to do about getting babies'
DP: 'But she doesn't know'
...

It made me wonder if he really 'forgets' these things? But I figured that giving an honest answer was better than the sarcastic and hurtful options like 'since you don't remember you don't care anyway so why should I tell you.'

But then, yesterday while we had put a homemade bolognese sauce on the stove, a sauce that gets nicer if it simmers longer DP started talking. For an hour! Did I really consider the donor egg option? Yes. I said that 5 years ago he told me he is not the tour-around-the-world-guy because of his boys. And I told him I wanted children. That we both agreed that were important needs in our relationship. That I don't want to spend my life as a childless stepmother.
We got talking about his boys again. How sometimes when I get bored or annoyed with them I just leave and see a friend. How I leave all the kiddie stuff up to him. And even what we do on those weekends. And that he was afraid that with DE I would do exactly the same. How he wouldn't want it thrown in his face that it would be his baby, his problem if it would cry all night. How you can't hand them back on Sunday evening.
It was weird to hear him admit that he sometimes doesn't like being home with the boys. That he is hurt if he asks them if they want to do A, B or C they just say no, no and no and go to their room and play with Lego or Xbox (Wow, Xbox4NappyRash never more appropriate)
I thought it was just me being driven insane by the confinement.
Very revealing.
DP reminded me that sometimes he looks at his kids and recognises part of himself. Little character traits that are sometimes endearing, sometimes annoying, exactly because of that personal recognition. That I might not have that genetic link...
I said we shouldn't do DE if he would always be on the lookout for things like that.
And that people try to find a donor that resembles the recipient for those reasons.
(we didn't go into the nature/nurture character bits)

We talked some more about his boys. They are almost 7 and 11. That the oldest would be like 2 years away from puberty and would be too old now already for a different relationship with me. Says DP. I feel that he is more open to me than ever before, more open than I'm ready for sometimes. But puberty scares me. I was the good girl at school, left wondering why on earth 15 year old boys thought it was funny to throw paper planes while it was obviously childish behaviour, or scooters were obviously dangerous, expensive and polluting the environment...
I cling to what I read in a stepparenting book: puberty is breaking the strong bonds with your parents and becoming an independent personality. And since stepparents don't have the same bond there is less to break away from. I realise this might backfire in ways unimaginable to me now, but pffff, not yet.

Soooo, I sort of feel on trial. Must pass minimum threshold of stepmothering before allowed to become a mother.
I know that it is important to be a team with DP, to trust each other to fall back on when kids aren't angels. That realistically that is 99% of the time. Maybe less if you count the time sleeping. (Is that why parents love to look down on their sleeping children? )
Don't know why the prospect of a complicated family seems more daunting now. Not so much the near future, the boys are quite fond of little kids. But in their independent future it might not be possible to avoid confrontation with their mother. It is one thing to respect/ignore people 60 km away, but it is a different idea with ceremonies or hospitals or what else life might think of.
(evil stupid little voice wishes donor sperm was the issue, so much more easily solved, easier complications. Or just run away, start with new partner and clean slate...)
How easy to drive myself mad!

This Friday it will be me and the boys. (DP works) Hope it will indeed be Good Friday.
arghhgr, BambiEyes tonight, gardening with dear cousin tomorrow, then Friday, then Easter.
Maybe this movie is just what we need: How to Tame Your dragon

5 1/365

Yesterday's post took its own turn. I think I set out to write about love, and maybe sex, about how dreams and plans got mangled by time and adversity.
But these days The Anger pops up and takes over. Not so much in real life maybe, but here it happened more than once. This is supposed to be a more or less safe place, better writing out than acting out The Anger. BambiEyes even warned me for this, and encouraged me to write. Being out here, admitting infertility (cringe!) emotion (blah!)
Sometimes just the writing itself is enough to lift the load of carrying all that emotion.

This is what my mother brought on Sunday. I don't know what to make of it, and decided it must be the floral equivalent of a haiku.
Something about it disturbs me. One stem carrying 7 lilies, three flowering sprigs that will never bear fruit....
Pretty girly springy pink though.

Two sessions ago BambiEyes said something to me that got me thinking. I was telling her about trying to share and connect with DP, that sometimes we would hug and I'd say 'it's not fair' and DP would say 'no, it's not fair' and no difficult conversation was needed to feel close for a moment.
Then BambiEyes said with a smile that technically it would be better if I said 'I find it not fair'
First instinct: But but but it really is not fair! It's the Universe being mean to me and I can't help it! Poor helpless victim me! How dare she suggest it's my fault!
Second thought: hey, my thoughts and opinions are mine and mine alone, I might just have a shred of influence here.
While it was only a minute change of perspective, it's made me feel lighter. I might still be at the bottom of the well, at least I'm not sprawled on my back with the Unfairness blocking my chest. More like sitting next to it, flexing my arms and legs and looking up and around...

5

Five years today, time to look back.

My friends had warned me that all DP was after would be an affair. That no father with girlfriend and young children would leave when in the course of their career they met a career woman, statistics said 99% sure.
Since I knew that at 32 yo it was time to really look for a partner if I ever wanted to be a mother I wasn't going to waste my time with an office affair, no matter how much we liked each other or how deeply in love, and told him so in no uncertain terms. DP was only more impressed with my confidence and independence. After some weeks of agony he made his decision (I wanted no part in his decision of leaving his kids, I never asked, I wasn't exactly after an abandoning father, and besides, I never believed he would really leave, he seemed the perfect father to me)
Then my bell rang, and he moved in with me, bringing just one small bag.
After only one week it seemed we had known each other for a long time (oh my, how cheesy!!)
It took 9 months to meet his kids for the first time (oh my, how cheesy!!) and I figured we better hurry up with making our own baby if we didn't want that age gap to be so big. At the same time DP was struggling with the guilt, and was scared of having two sets of part-time kids. Statistics for failure of second marriages are around 66%... I figured that if we kept it together for one year the worst of the hormones would have settled and we would be ready to go. Come March I felt he wasn't ready, and I thought one year was a bit on the cheesy side anyway. Me being a numbers girl I waited for 15 months to roll around, which nicely coincided with my 34th birthday. I felt all romantic when I had arranged for a special weekend and proposed at midnight. Not that I was much the marrying type myself, but that seemed to have been lacking from his previous relationship, that was too big a step he said. And I wanted his full commitment, I wanted to fully consciously say: yes, let's take these big steps, let's get married and have children. DP's answer 'but I thought you didn't care about marriage' wasn't quite what I had hoped for.
My girlfriend since highschool consolingly pointed out to me that in our country these things don't necessarily go together: that I was right to want to hurry with babies, but that we still could get married at 65. Hoping she was right I waited for DP to recover from the shock. And waited. Started on folic acid. DP laughing incredulously 'you can't get pregnant on your own!' When my 35th birthday started looming DP was trying to assure me that statistics of getting a baby wouldn't drop precipitously on that exact date. NO DP, our chances are already slimming by the day! But he seemed to think he was superman, having two kids already against all odds. The trip to Berlin, with little Knut in the Zoo was my breaking point: I wasn't going to pack any condoms anymore, or ever use them again. DP was mildly surprised, but didn't seem to agonise at all. And I felt that if he shared the bed with me willingly and knowingly I was not stealing or forcing a baby from him.
DP was really surprised two weeks later when my period rolled around. Hello?! I thought I'd be happy and lucky to be pregnant within a year of TTC, and wouldn't hesitate to run to a doctor after 12 months. I got my referral letter after 7 months, but waited for our first appointment till a year had gone by. Then DP was surprised we found ourselves in a hospital so soon. Again Hello?!
I was surprised the whole hospital business was over so quickly. We spent our 4 year anniversary with the news there was nothing the hospital could or would do to help us anymore. (short version) It took me about a year to let this sink in. I haven't dared ask DP how long it took him, but I'm afraid that after a week/month he thought to himself that he was lucky to have two kids and a new life with all the freedom he wanted.
I feel cheated, so so cheated. I WAITED for him. While we can never know, I might not have had that early menopause problem back then. (little voice: or you could have had years of hospital drama)
It seems I will have to weigh very carefully how long I will wait for DP to come around the donor egg issue. BambiEyes pointed out to me that DP makes decisions easily when the boundaries are clear. I'd never thought it would come to this.......

The Other Conversation

Yesterday was DP's birthday, and I took him out for dinner. Food was wonderful, decor was nicely eclectic (classical, art deco, Moroccan you name it) and service very friendly. In the back of my mind was replaying my last counseling session with BambiEyes, where she stressed several times I should talk to DP seriously about how important having a baby is to me. That I should take him out to dinner away from home distractions, let him know I had something important to say. That I shouldn't wait till desert, no more putting it off. That I should give him a set time to think about it, then go out again and have serious conversation again. Then come see her together.
Since her evening appointments tend to go quickly I picked a time already, I can always reschedule later. Well until 48 hours in advance.
But it was such a wonderful evening that I didn't want to get too serious. (little voice blabs I was putting it off again. Shut up little voice! I was enjoying the evening)
Around dessert I heard myself say that 5 years ago he spent his birthday on the last and only couple counselling session with his Ex. And how our first personal conversation was about me wanting children. He said he did give that serious thought at the time. But that to him we have tried all we can, and now live on as is.
That there is no point in me getting a baby from another woman, since we already have two kids from him and another woman. That a new baby will be a pain in the neck just as his two boys are, inherently kidlike. That I met his youngest when he was only two years old (and 7 months says little voice)
That those first years fly by anyway. That I'm romanticizing it all.
I was perplexed. flummoxed. flabbergasted. I think this conversation was a failure of epic importance.
How could I fail at explaining I really want to be a mother, be pregnant, have a baby, have our own little family?
Didn't sleep much last night
Flashes of conversation coming back.
Lovely bit: How sometimes he feels so much in love with me he wants to drag me into the nearest jewelry store and splurge on me.
Painful poison bit: How Ex became pregnant while on bcp, how difficult that was? Me: well, it would change your life dramatically... DP: Had I considered the impact on their sex life?
little voice: What The F#$%^&*)(_+|":?!!
Silent bit: holding his hand, stroking it, choked up, unable to put into words why I feel a distance to his boys, after DP saying it's my choice to keep that distance.
These boys have a mommy who takes care of them 12 days out of 14, so I'm thinking it's perfectly natural and healthy their first loyalty is with her. Being boys I think they enjoy having the company of their big powerful Dad (lift me over your head Daddy! I'm going to be even taller than you when I grow up Daddy!) To them would I be more than collateral damage? I mean, in their words they don't live here, just stay here in the guest room.
And no, it does not occur to kids that because we took them to Ikea to pick their favourite bunk beds it would be their beds in their room with their toys. After all, how are they supposed to know what a normal guest room looks like? I'm wise enough to not expect gratitude from kids, they can't help they were born, heck, even their parents couldn't seem to help that.

It was this week that DP and I had a conversation at the kitchen table. Someone in NL was in the newspaper, and DP mentioned his nickname Mr Crowbar. I put my puzzled face on, never heard of him. I opened my mouth to ask if it wasn't like... DP: Mr Cactus? from the kiddie show? No, not him at all! While I was still searching for that name. DP said it was in big shiny letters on my forehead, no need for me to actually say it.

How is it that a silly joke is in big letters on my forehead for him to read while the purpose of our relationship eludes him?

When walking back from the restaurant I asked gently if he would be willing to join me and talk with BambiEyes together. DP said yes fine. I feel sort of bad for having made that appointment already, and BambiEyes instructions to take things step by step with DP and therefore not starting out with that fact, as it would put more pressure on DP. I guess I forgot the middle step she suggested: Give DP time to think.

Deep in the dark of night I was thinking about jealousy, the big unspoken taboo emotion. Is it not OK for me to say I love his Ex's kids less than I expect to love my baby? Is it not OK that it hurts me they were conceived by accident?

oh. Also yesterday was my first maternity visit to friend M in hospital. When I asked if I could bring her something, thinking of cake, cheese or whatever craving she might have, she texted back saying a good mood, or a big crying fit. And just her recognition of the possible need for a crying fit made me so happy to go. And gosh her baby was tiny, just 2.5kg, but the cutest littlest thing I've ever seen up close. Big enough not to be scary like some early preemies but so small he could probably fit in his fathers hands. Visitors were not allowed inside the baby room, but it was fitted with a nice big window, so I could see her feeding that tiny bundle.
And only now I realise that when looking at him I totally forgot to ask him what it was like to be frozen, a miracle. Hopefully he doesn't know how long and scary the road was to get him in his mothers arms. The road to get him in my arms will only be a couple weeks longer (eat all you can little one!), and I'm already looking forward to it. Scant consolation maybe, but magical nevertheless. with a friend who understands. Wondering if I should bring DP, show him the magic again...

Sorry for ranting at people who are trying not to conceive and still do. Logically it seems 99.9% chance they were stupid/not careful/lying and 0.1% bad luck. But you know...
Sorry for not acknowledging award thingies, it's a bit much right now.
Deep sigh for the turmoil of transition, hugs for you all.

giving

Giving blood, I did it again.
26 months ago was the last time it worked. At the next occasion, failing the Hb test, I decided together with the donation doctor I would take a break and focus on getting pregnant. The system would call for me again after so many months had past.
I knew I had to fill out their questionnaire with those two small questions. Have you been pregnant and Are you pregnant now. This was the first time I had to answer yes/no instead of no/maybe. And I feel only 1% melancholic about that. And 98% proud that my healthy body does help other people who are not so fortunate. That leaves 1% sadness over the fact that 3 years and two months ago my cousin might have been saved by one more transfusion. He was only 31, but no matter how healthy and young he was, life with a ruptured liver that started to bleed as soon as he was out of hospital in his own bed didn't last 6 weeks.
Should have known that typing this does reawaken that sad sad time.
It's weird to compare missing a family member I was so close with, with missing my non existent child.

And then... email... colleagues from my past job looking for people for a big project at DP's company. The company is still deciding which party to hire, and depending on that answer I might have a chance to jump on board. And maybe start real soon, tomorrow for all they care!
Wow, how exciting.

The human mind keeps amazing me. Minutes ago I was sniffing away some tears, now I can hardly sit still to type this. It would be nice to work at the same office as DP again. We could bike to work on my supercool tandem. Spring is in the air...