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...

A Big Question was Asked

I did it! I asked my cousin My Big Question!
and we survived.
We were having a really good afternoon in her city. We both hate shopping, but we managed unexpectedly well to get the items she needed. Best bit was wandering into a shop, finding the section we were looking for and then simultaneously pointing at the same thing, with a stereo "How about that one?"
Sometimes that's all the reassurance you need. And perfect for counteracting that other all too familiar feeling of 'so many choices that making a decision feels impossible'. But we went home feeling happy and proud.
Made a cup of tea, sat on the couch, and I considered asking. But my heart started to stomp so loudly in my chest and throat that I probably wouldn't have heard her reaction, so I decided the time wasn't right.
After we had dinner I did ask. First I said I wanted to ask a difficult and important question. (She scrunched up her face) Then I really said would you like to be my egg donor. She agreed with me it was a difficult question, and that she would need time to think about it.
I reassured her I hadn't talked about it with any of our family, so on the upcoming family weekend she wouldn't be surprised by a casual 'so I heard you and Val are going to have a baby' Yes, we made little jokes.
I did tell her I had prepared myself to accept No as an answer, and about the friend of a friend (FoF) who had offered already, trying to take the pressure off as much as I could think of. I think I managed to indicate it would be a long road, with no guarantees and maybe small risk for her but I abstained from inundating her with technical info.
After this we did discuss her pregnant friends and their babies, and how tall some of them would be. Someone we both know vaguely is well over two meters tall (7') who was very happy to meet a lady over 1.90 (6'3") Their daughter is predicted to grow to 1.98 (6'6") (!!!) and as a one year old almost looks as big as a small 3 year old she knows...
Cousin and me are both around 1.80 (6') and while we live in a country filled with giants realise that is really a Dutch quirk (well, Scandinavian too) so from that respect me choosing a short donor (FoF is like 1.50 (5')) wouldn't be insane, especially since the intended father is much taller than me again.

Our conversation veered in many directions afterwards, I think we talked for 3 hours more, and generally we felt good, and together.
When I left she thanked me again for helping her out shopping, saying she felt proud and happy.

(and I'm soooo excited she took it so well, and that it didn't overtake her feeling happy of that day) I was so excited I visited my best friend straight after, crushing his bones in my hugs, blabbing his ears off trying to calm down before taking the train home.

I'm feeling slightly guilty of adding to her burden, because her upcoming birthday is triggering memories of her mother dying when her brother was that age two years ago. We had some wet eyes over that together, how grief sometimes comes back to hound you. Yes, loss is forever, and so are our memories. She is special to me, that she sometimes understands the grief of my infertility better than I do. I can only hope to support her, help her remember.

Now I have to try my patience, because gosh, that family weekend isn't until April.

I know, she will need the time she needs, and so will I, to say nothing of DP. I may need lots more patience, loads more. But a wheel has been set in motion and for now I'm glad I asked. For now I believe that even if she needs more time than I may have I can still accept that reality and move on.

Can that funny brain cell that is starting to organise me moving to a house near her please stop packing boxes?!

almost

Tomorrow I will visit the baby I almost had.

At work I had great colleagues, and me not being able to keep my mouth shut, and (what is that expression again?) wearing my heart on my sleeve told them about my IVF when it was happening around this time last year.
At some point a male colleague came up to me, saying they were starting their first IVF attempt as well, a couple days ahead of me. It was quite special, exchanging tips and tricks, and just knowing. Neither of us came out pregnant that time, but they had something frozen. Their first FET attempt did work out, and they had a healthy little boy at the start of this year.
Tomorrow I will visit them for the first time ever, together with another former colleague-now friend who knows the full story. So I can hide behind his shoulder if need be.

Somehow I don't think I will need that. I'm thinking I will be totally mesmerized by this tiny baby, by the privilege of knowing him and how he came to be.
I'm thinking that it will prove it was normal for me to want that, that miracles can happen. Don't know if it will give me energy to hope against the odds again... (it might just rub off, who knows)

just when I was leaving....

My mother had asked if I would please come over and rescue some old school stuff of mine that turned up when they were taking apart bookshelves. We spend a very dusty afternoon going through old paper, throwing most of it out. Twenty years late. Conversation was nothing special, my mother doing most of the talking with her famous half stories and unfinished sentences. And five minutes later continuing where she left of. Can be confusing if you don't practice! (But don't worry, a rerun will come sooner rather than later)
Just when I was leaving, hat, scarf, one leg on my bike, she said:

But can't you get someone else's eggs?

So then we talked some about that. About percentages. Age. About grief and its different stages. About how some couples don't survive that. She was all ears. And all agreement.
It was good to feel my mother firmly on my side. Slightly amazed she is not scared by the idea or technology, thinking it wrong somehow.
Maybe she doesn't let on, but I suspect she wants me to have a baby a much as I do.

Tonight she is babysitting for her upstairs neighbours. I wouldn't be surprised if she took the little one (2 months now) from his crib and hold him for a while he sleeps, wondering if...

a touch of Dutch

We are in the middle of another cold spell. This weekend I took my camera along so I can give you a more visual impression of what happens with the Dutch when it comes to skating.
We started out near the touristy village of Volendam.
If you're not easily susceptible to motion sickness you could try have a look around with my unsteady hand:



From there we crossed to the island of Marken over what was sea till 1927, but thanks to some famous dikes is now tamed into a big lake. To get a feeling from being on the move, and glimpse the difference in sight and sound between flat ice and rubble, click again below. And yes, I was so proud of my new skates that I captured my toes for a split second as well.





There was a fair wind picking up, and we Dutch people not only love skating, we love boats even more. Did you know boats can skate too?



Then I found the pinnacle of winter-Dutchness: clogs with spikes!


Then we did a couple more crossings because ice this flat, fast and easy is rare (it would snow that night already) and ended up in the beautiful old city of Monnickendam and treated ourselves to hot chocolate for me and a Carolus triple beer for DP. No wonder he was knocked out on the bus home!


That night we watched Sven skate and win his olympic gold medal. We now call that city Svencouver...

Slippery slope

After dinner, approximately 36 hours after the Sunday morning conversation, I asked DP if he thought that conversation had gone well. Which conversation? Well, the one about donor eggs. He then asked me if I was seriously considering that option. Yes I am. (And see how I don't get an answer to my initial question? That seems to happen a lot)
I pushed on a bit, asking him to put his thoughts or feelings into words. DP said it was a slippery slope. From TTC naturally, to trying with a little help like IVF, to donor gametes, surrogacy, adoption. Where did I think it would end? My answer 'with a baby' did not reassure him.
DP said more than once that donor-egg-babies would have another mother.
I'm thinking there is a world of difference between his kids who he has to return to their mother at 6:30 PM Sunday and a baby that is with us from before it is even born, and 100% depending on us.

He did point out that part of the fun of parenting is recognising part of yourself in your children. His oldest does indeed have his freckles, light skin, light hair. (OK, those are easy to spot) We didn't go into which part of that recognition was important to him.
We both know that he has a much stronger and more natural bond with his sons than I do. He called it 'blood line'. He is doing almost all the work when it comes to the boys. Picking them up from school, dropping them off, telling them not to fight. I just do part of the cooking and laundry. Although this past weekend I was baking muffins with the oldest and took the youngest one skating to the shop to get milk for DPs cappuccino.
I always figured that if he missed them so much when they're not with us he should get most of the time with them, get to do all the kiddy stuff, bathing and feeding when they were small, playing soccer and chess now. I would wait and see what left over parent stuff there was left for me. So yes, I did/do consciously put myself second rank.
I'm sort of wondering if he is unhappy that I don't love his children as much as he does.

When the bloodline thing came up I did point out I have a cousin that would match, so the d-e-baby would at least be related to me as well..
At that point we cuddled on the couch, and he fell asleep, holding me, leaving me wondering.

I guess that is what is confusing me, why is he worried about a genetic connection while he should still have that? I'm the one who is considering/willing to give that up (my personal DNA I mean) in order to have a baby, be pregnant, be a mother.
And now the other voices creep back in. Why would I spend time with his kids, spend energy and frustration, feel chained to the home if he's not willing to do the same for me?
I did ask about babies, 5 years ago. I did mention that as part of my future, a sine qua non.
It was the very first personal conversation we had.
Now I'm afraid it will be the last as well.

Under Cover

This morning under cover of darkness and duvet we found ourselves awake too early for a Sunday morning. I gently asked if he had given any thought to donor eggs since Jan 6, and he hadn't (while I had plenty). We started talking about some aspects of the process (yes the donor would need to inject medication like I did for IVF.) He mentioned that some male donors don't want any contact with possible offspring, when I said that if I were a donor I would like to visit once a year or so. DP said that the motivation behind the donation might be key with regards to contact.

So far so good. Even though the conversation was kind of 'general'. It was a start. And I think it was safe and non threatening. It went much better than I feared.
Reading your comments made me realise I had to at least try to touch the subject with DP. That it wouldn't be fair to let it come to the point of DE versus breakup, or even make that decision alone. (Thanks Twangy for letting me learn from your story)
I haven't mentioned my cousin yet, or asked how he feels about it. I suppose he needs some time to mull over the facts first.
I also haven't mentioned that a friend of a friend has offered herself as a donor two weeks ago.
Hopefully I'll have a chance to talk to my cousin this month.
Hopefully my counsellor will not point out to me how and why I'm a dangerous fool when I see her on Thursday.

DE means Douwe Egberts coffee in the Netherlands

Donor Eggs.
It is not very common in the Netherlands. We just had the law changed in 2004 (or so) that gamete donors may not be anonymous anymore. Also financial reward is not allowed, and clinics are prohibited from mediating between intended parents and egg donors. Oh, and if you do find someone yourself she can only be a donor if she already has her own family complete (and a list of other requirements of course)
This makes my 20something year old cousin off limits here.
Have to find out about Belgium. Though I'd be reluctant to drag her all the way over there. In this country people think a 3 hour drive is long. It would require days off of work for her, and it seems silly when there are plenty of hospitals around the corner.
Plus I feel I should not ask this big huge question as long as I'm not prepared to take no for an answer. I always tell others not to ask a question if you're not prepared to hear the answer, so I'll stick to that as long as I can. I love her so much, that I owe her at least that. She has been through a lot in life, lost her partner 3y and her mother 2y ago. I've been trying to be there for her, as a big sister. Trying to piece back her existence. She is doing fine now.

I dream of my child calling her nana, sort of mix between dna and aunty, and very close to the dutch mamma...

This bit before I wrote in November. Still wondering. Torn between giving up a dna connection with my baby and the desire that my baby is also family deep down. She (my cousin) looks just like me, we really could be sisters. We have travelled together in different parts of the world. In some ways I feel we are parts of each other.
In the past months she has mentioned that she doesn't know if she wants to have children, leaning to not.
On the other hand, I myself look nothing like my mother, I take after my father. My brother and I seem not even related. (apart from that one personality test about decision making, there we had identical scores)

Again, I have not dared to talk to DP about this. It is going to be this much harder to be disappointed by the people I love most...