Sometimes it's convenient...

In the last few weeks I’ve had a big editing project on the go, and I’ve also had the pleasure of a bout of gastro! So I’ve been either busy working – or sick. Now it’s just the working bit that remains (thank goodness!).

While I was sick on the weekend and in bed feeling quite awful, I had the thought that sometimes it is quite convenient not to have children. Wow! This was followed by feelings of guilt – how could I think that? What a terrible person I was! What a selfish person I was!

But, let’s be honest – when you’re sick and all you want to do is sleep in between bouts of (well probably no need to go into detail), not having to worry about anybody else makes it much easier to rest and focus on getting better.

Is that such a horrible thing to think?

I don’t believe so.

It’s a reality.

I’m sure parents wish for peace and quiet when they are sick. And, imagine trying to look after yourself if you and your children all came down with gastro at the same time! But, all in all, I doubt those parents would choose not have their children at all for the sake of peace and quiet when they are ill.  Of course the perfect scenario would be to have both children and peace and quiet in times of ill health.

I wouldn’t have chosen not to have them either. If Jacob and/or Ruby were here I would have managed somehow and I wouldn’t have given them up for the world – even if I was sick and they were constantly waking me up asking about this or that.

I have to say that I admire parents (most anyway as some of them don’t deserve to be called parents) in how they deal with being sick and still caring for their children. I don’t know how they do it. Sure – they kind of have to – there’s no off switch on kids that you can press when you want some time to yourself. Regardless – they are pretty amazing!

Back to it...

I knew it had been a while since I’d written an entry here, but I didn’t realise that it has been quite so long!

The last month and a half have been busy with a family wedding and work and so on. I’ve also been unwell. The pain in my side has become worse and I will be going back in for surgery in mid-June to see if that can be resolved. More of my beautiful fish died – it seems there has been a spike in pH in the pond which is now fixed. I’ve been sleeping a lot and have kind of been a bit of a hermit regarding my writing and this blog.

I’ve had a few things to sort out in my mind before I felt ready to write again.

In regards to my last entry, one of my readers asked about endometriosis and what the symptoms are. There are many symptoms, and one of the best places I’ve found to read about them is on the Jean Hailes website, and the video Understanding endometriosis is really informative and I’ve shared that with my family to help them understand what endometriosis is all about (it's the third resource from the bottom of the page).

Last weekend there was an article written by (yet another) a woman who had gone through IVF and talks about how difficult infertility is, has ended up having a child, and is telling the rest of us not to give up because “you know, miracles DO happen. I have one sleeping upstairs right now.”

I still find articles such as this frustrating. Really – who is this woman to tell us that miracles happen? How often, really, do miracles happen?

Well – at least this woman is trying to be positive and encouraging. On the flip side of the coin, some of the comments on the article were just down right cruel toward people who are struggling to have children. It’s fine to have a difference of opinion, but why be nasty about it?

One woman suggests that our wanting children is the same as wanting any “commodity” and that we have some kind of sense of entitlement to children, and from her “Buddhist” perspective desiring to have our own children is an EGO-TRIP and will only end up with our suffering. Many people pointed out to her that compassion is one of the key principles of Buddhism, but she didn’t seem to get that point. I had an interesting debate with her, but eventually gave up – there’s no point trying to talk with someone who just wants to be right.

Oh – and she also claims to have infertility envy. Yeah – you read right.

To be honest – just thinking about what she, and some others, wrote brings up the angry wild beast in me. I won’t share with you the names I want to call her that are rolling around in my head – but I’m sure you can imagine what they might be. I’ll just say that she’s a great big meanie-head.

Why am I sharing this? Because there are going to be times when people are going to say cruel things to us – we who want children so much but can’t have them. It’s like we deserve the judgement and criticism for wanting children more than people who don’t particularly care about kids, have them anyway, and then treat them like dirt.

It’s getting easier with time to let these remarks and comments go without latching onto them, but given what I’ve recently been going through the comments by this woman really stung. I felt fragile and anxious and stuck.

Ironically, it was thinking about this woman’s version of Buddhism that got me back to feeling settled again.

For some reason I wanted her to be compassionate to me, but she wasn’t being compassionate. I made it my mission to get her to understand my perspective, but she wouldn’t. There came a point where I could either go crazy trying to change the way things were or I could let it all go. So, I let the anger go and watched it float on by – and I still am letting it go and float on by whenever the anger about what she said arises in my mind.

I like to think of Buddhism in terms of a river. Your self is sitting on the bank of a beautiful clear river and all different leaves float by from all different types of trees. You try to control them by creating a dam, but that just stops the flow of the river and all the leaves come together and form an indistinct sludge. You try to capture the leaves using a scoop, but that just stirs up the river and the clear water becomes so murky that you can no longer see the bottom. You try to push all the leaves away from you with your hand, but they just stick to you instead. Eventually you learn that all you need to do is watch the leaves float by.

All of the leaves represent different emotions – anger, sadness, happiness, love, guilt, joy, satisfaction. None of them are seen as “better” or more “worthy” than others and none are meant to be latched onto or pushed away. They are what they are – you see them, you feel them, you appreciate them for what they are, you may even act on them, and then you let them go.

This is what I try to do with my emotions – but it’s not always easy because I’m human!

The anger comes around, I see it, I feel it, I act on it if I am able and it would be healthy to do so, and then I let it go.

I’m going to leave it there, except to suggest that, if you are interested in a book that I have learnt a lot from, have a look at “The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking” by Oliver Burkeman.

I just realised that I mentioned this book in April last year – so you can be assured it’s a favourite of mine!

My weekend...

Wow! What a weekend of ups and downs and challenges…which all started on Thursday.

On Thursday I had my follow up appointment with my gynaecologist and I mentioned to her that I have been having a pain that feels like something is pressing on the left side of my lower abdomen, and every now and then a sharp pain that sometimes makes me double over and gasp. She explained that sometimes there can be a build-up of fluid on the ovary side of the clip that was put on fallopian tube.

So I’m off for an ultrasound on Friday and then another appointment with my gynaecologist Thursday week.

I learnt some more about my endometriosis as well. It was not just a little bit, but is at stage three. There are four stages from one to four with one being the least amount of endometriosis and four being the most – although the amount of endometriosis does not equate to the symptoms or pain a woman can feel. A woman can have stage one and be in a lot of pain, while a woman can have stage four and not feel anything.

It seems I have stage three with much of the endometriosis in places where it cannot be removed.

I’m not sure what is going to happen from here, but much will depend on the ultrasound findings, but possibilities are further surgery and a possible hysterectomy. Which I do not want. I definitely do not want a hysterectomy if at all possible.

Friday I was one very unhappy chicken. When I went in for the uterine ablation and the clipping of my fallopian tubes I was looking forward to a simple procedure which would leave me with far less monthly bleeding and therefore an increase in energy. I was really excited about feeling good again and being able to get on with life. But, as can happen with all of us, it wasn’t so simple and things still aren’t sorted out.

So – Friday. I went out to the pond to find one of my fish, Sahmi (a golden comet), had died – he lived in the little pond with Uthai (another golden comet), and Jade and Jasper (my catfish). As my regular readers will know I love my fish. They all have names and they are very friendly.

I had to do a water change in both of the fish ponds and so I did that and put the fountain back in the bigger pond. I went inside to do some other things that needing doing. Later I went back outside and my big pond had tipped over and much of the water was gone. The dirt underneath was a quagmire and the pond was floating. I panicked as I couldn’t see my big fish (Rose, Ash, Billy, Jamie, Flint, Gertie, Myrtle, Faith, and Mai). I pictured them having gone through a hole in the bottom of the pond and having disappeared somewhere in the mud.

I ran into the shed and grabbed the first plastic box I could find to put any of the fish I could find in. While doing so I shut the garage door on my thumb – ripping some of the skin off and bruising my nail. It was very, very fortunate that as I emptied the big pond I found each and every one of my babies.

I rang Kirby in tears – I just didn’t know how I was going to cope. Being the amazing man he is, he talked me through my feelings and suggested sitting down with a coffee and doing some deep breathing. I did so and felt much better – although my thumb was really hurting by this stage!

Onto Saturday. Kirby and I found that the area beneath the pond was extremely soggy and far too soggy to put the pond back in, unless we wanted it to float and tip over again. Kirby’s Dad came over and suggested we put two large holes deep into the ground and fill them with gravel so that any water would drain away more easily, now and in the future. Kirby did this, but by Sunday the ground still hadn’t drained enough to put the pond back.

On Sunday we decided that the best option, as the fish couldn’t stay in the containers for much longer, would be to empty the little pond and put Uthai, Jasper, and Jade into the big pond. And then we could put the big pond where the little pond had been (on stable ground) for the time being until the water in the big pond hole drained away.

I began emptying the little pond. Uthai was easy enough to catch, and being the easy going fish that he is he was quite happy in the container I put him in until the big pond was ready. As I emptied the pond further I started getting worried as Jasper and Jade were nowhere to be seen, which was unusual as they are curious and like to know what’s going on – especially Jade.

I eventually found Jasper. He was dead on the bottom of the pond. Then I found Jade, she was very ill and on the bottom of the pond. I burst into tears and it felt like nothing could stop my heart from breaking.

The endo, the possibility of future surgery, the fact that our kids had more of a chance than the IVF clinic had given them, and my fish. It was far, far too much to take on. I actually had a dream on Saturday night (before I found Jade and Jasper) that I was in a room with some other women and there were darts, daggers, and spears sticking out from the walls. The people in control said that every now and then, with no notice, the weapons would be shot out into the room and some of us would be injured and possibly die. The only way out was to pass some tests. One of which was to be able to communicate with a dog, but I don’t remember the rest of the tests. It was really frightening – especially when I had passed a test (the dog communication one) but still had to go back into the room, with the possibility I would die, before I could do any further tests.

I’m still thinking about that dream. It is one of those ones that seemed to have a message from my subconscious.

Pretty yucky weekend all around.

Then, last night, something happened. I didn’t want to go to bed as my mind was racing and I was crying a lot and I didn’t think I would be able to sleep. I decided to go outside, in the cool darkness, and look up at the stars for a while. At first I could only see a few stars, then more became visible, and eventually I could see the white mist of the Milky Way.

I thought to myself – the Milky Way is so vast, and then there is this universe beyond that. One of the stars I could see is 1340 light years away, which means the light I was seeing left that planet around the year 670AD. The time before me and the time after me is fathomless. I’m tiny, I’m a blip (less than a blip really). My life is nothing in the vast scheme of things.

Instead of making me feel unimportant and worthless I felt a weird sense of freedom. If my life is so small and I am a speck of dust, then why do I worry about so many things? Why don’t I feel the sadness, the happiness, the love, the hate, without judgement? Why don’t I just get on with my life as it is? If I don’t really matter in the big picture then maybe I ought to live my life without all this worry and speculation and wondering what other people think of me and how messy the house is and trying to work out how I can control what happens to me. All I need to do is live the best I can doing what I believe is important.

That’s all I need to do. I can still feel the fear and loneliness, but I need to learn to detach from them so I can see them for what they are, and not hold onto them when they are no longer of any use to me. I can still feel sorrow at the loss of my fish and that our children were never born, and I can feel anger at the IVF clinic. But, I need to realise I don’t have control of everything – or anything perhaps. 

There is a freedom about this and all I need to do is embrace that freedom.

That’s all I need to do.

Some of my beauties...

The letter...

I went to see my doctor not long after my last blog entry. And my apologies for the time between entries! I’ve a couple of big projects to do and I haven’t been feeling too brilliant – although much better now.

Back to the doctor. She was amazing. I told her how I was feeling and that I wanted to go and see a counsellor. She agreed it would be a really good idea and we worked out who would be best for me to go and see. My doctor also offered to spend time, right there and then, talking about the endometriosis and how I was feeling about it all.

I won’t go into all of it, but she basically validated what I was feeling – which was very important as I now realise. To have someone who doesn’t have a personal link to me (as family and friends do) say that my thoughts and feelings are rational was so comforting – I’m not crazy! At least not on this issue…

My doctor suggested that I write a letter to the IVF clinic that we went to and let it all go. Write exactly what I feel and say exactly what I want to say – let it rip and use all the angry words I want to use without any holding back. And then, if I wanted to later, I could write it in a more appropriate way and actually send it to the IVF clinic manager.

I wrote the letter about a week after seeing my doctor. It was really therapeutic. I started off with my incredibly angry words, and then through the letter ended up claiming myself and my healing back.

I have decided to share the letter with you as it shows the thought process that I went through while writing it – from unbelievable anger at the clinic to claiming my own self again. I have blacked some of the letter out due to the words not being necessarily appropriate!

I will still be writing to the IVF clinic formally and seeing a counsellor, but writing this letter now has been an important and valuable first step in working through these messy emotions.

Stuck...

Frankie's response to my dancing...

I’ve been busy this past week, and I’ve actually enjoyed myself quite a lot – even though most of what I’ve been doing has been housework! It’s amazing what a good music soundtrack can do to make housework more tolerable! Although when I’m dancing around the kitchen with a broom my cat, Frankie, tends to hiss at me – I guess she’s not a fan of my moves…

Kirby and I went to the Adelaide Clipsal V8 Supercars on Saturday and that was awesome. We watched the race and wandered around looking at all the displays of old cars, and new cars (the type that we would never be able to afford!), and taking in the atmosphere. It was very hot! 38 degrees Celsius (around 37 degrees Celsius equals 100 degrees Fahrenheit). But it was great.

So things are going well, except I have a sense of feeling stuck in some areas of my life – particularly in regards to my writing. I want to write, I know what I want to write, but somehow, when I think about it, my anxiety rises. It’s almost like I don’t deserve it…or maybe I’m worried that I will fail at it…I’m not sure.

I’m having a lot of dreams about babies and the other day I said to Kirby that the baby I lost in 1998 (six years before I met Kirby) would have been eighteen this year. I actually said “Hayley would have been eighteen this year.” I’d never called that baby anything…so I don’t know why I’ve called her Hayley now. It was a very early miscarriage and it wasn’t confirmed at all, so there is a chance there was never any baby, but I do believe I was pregnant as my period was three weeks late and was very heavy when it came, and normally, at that time, my cycle was like clockwork.

I’ve still been crying and feeling upset about the whole endometriosis thing and finding myself thinking about that a lot. That’s happening less and less though.

I’m doing okay with the regular, every day things, but I feel as though there is a block which I am stuck behind that is stopping me from getting on with the other things – the things that make me who I really am.

So, I’m going to go see a counsellor.

I’ve gone from being so confused and sad that I know I need to see one, to feeling really good and thinking I don’t really need to see one. To be honest, I’d rather not go. I want to be able to work through all this on my own with the support of my family and friends. But, I can’t.

My family and f

riends are there without a doubt and they can talk to me, support me, and provide endless hugs, but I need to talk to someone who is independent, can assist me in viewing things differently, and can guide me toward regaining my motivation (or perhaps it’s more to do with overcoming anxiety or feeling I deserve to follow some of my dreams regardless of whether I succeed or not).

It’ll be interesting. I’ve seen one counsellor before, but I’m not certain if I should see her again, or whether it would be useful to see someone different for a different perspective. I’ve got three days to think about it!

It will be an interesting journey I’m sure. 

Guilt...

He’s going to say I have nothing to feel guilty about – but I have been feeling guilty lately.

I’ve been feeling guilty since the surgery and when I found out about the endometriosis.

So, it’s true that I may not have had endo back in 2009/2010 when we were doing IVF, and it’s true that even if I did and it was treated it may not have made any difference to me getting pregnant. It is, however, the closest thing to an explanation as to why we couldn’t get pregnant that we have ever had. All we ever got from the IVF clinic was “unexplained fertility”, which left us wondering if the issue was with me, with Kirby, or with both.

It’s not that either of us would have blamed each other – there is no blame.

Well – I know that I wouldn’t have blamed Kirby, and I know that he wouldn’t have blamed me. So, feeling like I do at the moment doesn’t really make sense – but then how often do feelings and thoughts really make sense?

I feel guilty that it seems I was the one who couldn’t bring a baby into our lives and who couldn’t make Kirby a father. He deserves to be a Dad. He should have had a son or daughter to raise and nurture and discipline and be annoyed at some times and love and have fun times with and create memories with. And I couldn’t give him that.

I keep thinking that I should have known endo was a possibility, and that I should have pushed for more tests and investigations. But, how could I know that endo was a possibility if I didn’t even know what endo was?

I asked Kirby the other night if he would still have married me if he knew that I couldn’t have children. I regretted asking the question as soon as I did. I know the answer – he would have. Asking him that question was unkind.

But I keep ruminating about the unfairness that my inept body cannot give him a child. I guess I’m just going to have to sit with that for a while until it passes by. And I hope it does soon.

Our child...

I haven’t written an entry for a while as I’ve been concentrating on getting better, and I’ve also been in a bit of an emotional well and found it hard to write. Though things are improving slowly but surely.

So, on my return to the blog – I present you with a funny story about our nephew.

My mother-in-law was explaining our family tree to our nephew (he is five years old). She started with herself and my father-in-law as Grandma and Pop, and then had two branches down to Kirby and my sister-in-law.

My sister-in-law had a line to her husband (our nephew’s Mum and Dad) and from there a line dropped down to our nephew.

That all made sense to him.

Then my mother-in-law drew a line from Kirby to me (as Uncle and Aunty) and explained that we don’t have any children.

I can imagine my nephew as he stood there, rather indignantly, and stated “They DO have children – they have ME!”

He is a precious, precious little boy and I couldn’t love him more if he was my own son.