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01/22/2007
Enter the draggin'
This weekend we took Charlie to a Chinese restaurant, where he gamely tried five or six different dishes, fumbled adorably with one of those flat-bottomed plastic soup spoons, and then felled everyone within a three-table radius by flinging, with deadly precision, a handful of chopsticks into the hearts of his enemies.
I couldn't be prouder. This is gonna look really good on his application to get into Wudang Mountain. (I was hoping to homeschool him, but my Mantis Form is decidedly rusty.)
I thank you all for your comments on my last entry. The majority I read with appreciation and gratitude — it means so much to me that you share your stories candidly. But some comments I read with dismay. "Consider adoption!" "Imagine your sweet small son grieving your death." "Oh, my God, you are so totally jealous of Michelle Duggar."
Ouch.
I appreciate the concern that motivated those comments, and trust in your good intentions. I truly do. So I'll say this in as neutral a manner as I can manage: I am not seeking opinions on whether Paul and I should attempt another pregnancy. For that, I have doctors, a husband, and my conscience to guide me. (We did consider making our reproductive plans the subject of a popular referendum, but we were just too worried that Florida would decide I should do something stupid.)
I am vulnerable right now, more than I've been in almost two years. This is not a comfortable position. "You don't sound like yourself," said one kind reader in e-mail. While I still am myself, it's a sadder, quieter, less certain version. One needing kindness, more tender than usual to criticism.
I know — have always known — that by writing at all I take risks. I risk being disagreed with, of course, sometimes vehemently. I risk being misunderstood, or, sometimes, being understood only too well. I risk being found selfish, irresponsible, and ridiculously reckless. I am okay with that. If I weren't, I'd do as Saturday's fortune cookie advised:
(It also suggested I learn Chinese and tried to teach me how to say "duck," so, you know, take it for what it's worth.)
I would humbly ask that you understand what an intensely personal decision Paul and I are facing, and that you respect that, please, as you respond to my posts on the subject.
Or I'll have Charlie kick your ass. His Controlling Dragon Tiger Form is off the fucking hook.
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I wish I knew what to say that would help you in some way. Please know that I think of you each day and fervently hope that the universe bestows an extra kindness or two on you.
I really wanted to post something profound in answer to your request, to try and repay you for all the help this blog has given me but what I got was something along the lines of ahumwhagshamuff! ahuwhagshamuff!!! So, I'm with you, for what it's worth...
I think that if more people lived by the golden rule: "Treat others as you would like to be treated" the world would be a kinder place. Same goes for blog coments...
I would hope -- deeply -- that the exhortations to adopt, be happy with your only, buy a dozen donor eggs or build an outlying structure on the Duggar compound (hey, your name already starts with J!) come from a place of genuine desire to share the joy the posters found by adopting, being happy with just one, etc. I have built my family by one of the above methods and sometimes it takes all of my restraint not to comment using lots of exclamation points and assurances that your hesitations/objections are for naught. I'd like to believe that the posters telling you to "just (fill in the blank)" only want you to experience the peace they have found. Doesn't mean we shouldn't all clam it, however. You'll figure this out, that we know.
Whatever you decide I wish you all the best with it. I want to see you happy and with a child. It sounds like you are a fabulous mother with Charlie. I really don't know how you handle so much blog-celebrity. I get a few comments a day and get really upset when someone gives me advice I don't want to hear or disagrees in a rude manner. I couldn't handle the criticism with the grace you always manage.
I'm putting ALL of my money on Charlie and his sweet-ass Tiger Form.
Sending peaceful thoughts your way.
I've never quite understood why people run around saying "just adopt!!" I hope it is for the reaons eliz said.
But family building is so uniquely personal, and I seem to remember that you asked why WE want what WE want, not what you should do.
Because really, why would you trust your vagina to the internets?? Come on.
(And did someone really say the Duggars have are perfectly groomed and coiffed? Have they seen the Duggar hair??)
God. I hope I didn't say anything stupid. I apologise if I did.
I didn't comment on your previous post because I am a bit too close to it all personally at the moment. (I have endo, no baby, starting IVF #2 and will be doing 600 IU of Follistim a day in a few short weeks... if I get that far. Sound familiar?) I'm deathly afraid that my own cycle will fail, so yeah, Unnngh.
I don't want to give you advice. Maybe I can help with some answers... like my doctor blamed my poor response on the endo, and came up with some pretty good reasons why it was to blame. The real answers, like how much you should risk for what you want, are things the internet can't tell you, in spite of the why-don't-you-just-adopt types seem to think.
The instinct to reproduce is very strong. People just have to understand this and learn to accept it. In fact, being able to reproduce is considered by some to be a basic human right. Before modern medicine every woman risked her lift to have a child. Sure, there was no birth control other than abstaining, but still. Its not weird that you want to give birth again even knowing the risks, its human. People who can't understand that need to shut their mouths before Charlie rams a chopstick down their throats.
It amazes me that, even when you are in the la brea tar pits of despair, you can come up with brilliance like that ballot.
I wish there was something I could do to give back even one tenth of the inspiration and laughter I've gotten from this site.
I wish life were a choose-your-own-adventure book: oops, I guess getting pregnant with donor eggs WASN'T the right choice after all, let me turn back to page 47 and "just adopt."
The a-little-pregnant choose your own adventure book. Now there's an idea whose time has come!
I'm here for you no matter what you decide and when.
I don't know what to say except I am sorry...
I am sorry for the commenters who are too ignorant to understand...
I am sorry for the commenters who hurt your feelings even if it wasn't their intention...
I am sorry you have to go through any of this at all...
Thank you so much for sharing your story with us...
You are in my thoughts and prayers...
If it helps even one little bit, I think you have done a fantastic job of balancing calculated risk and what your gut is, uh, grunting for. And you've written about it with such dignity, and integrity, and honesty...I mean I could go on and on about blah blah letting others know they're not alone or bleh bleh being so funny that people with no knowledge of IF read you and therefore EDUCATING or yackity yack brightening my day one time when something really bad had just happened with a video of dancing tampon toys or yadda yadda blogging role model but that would just be embarassing. So, yeah.
I don't believe in (((hugs))) and find them creepy. If I knew you IRL I'd squeeze you until your back crunched (in a chiropracter-y way, not a "Number One Fan" kind of way, just so everyone doesn't think I'm a nut and flame me) and bake you lots and lots of healthy baked goods (you should see what I can do with flaxseed and Mennonite-hand-ground-the-same-day whole red wheat).
I hope it starts getting easier soon, whatever it is that you guys eventually decide to do, and I hope you'll still update us, although you don't owe it to anyone and could just write about cute things Charlie has done or annoying playground encounters or cookie recipes or quilting, and we'd probably all keep reading anyway (and when I say probably I speak for the other eighty kajillion readers--I'd keep reading if you posted nothing but grocery lists and cranky letters you've written to foes real and metaphorical.
Er, sorry, forgot to close parentheses. Am not stupid, promise. Also, kudos to the other "eliz," above, for her diplomatic phrasing.
Delurking here because I wanted to reach out to you - you are very brave to put all of this stuff "out there" and put up with the comments of strangers. I started reading IF blogs about 3 - 4 months ago when I started seeing an RE after a few months of not getting pregnant (I'm 38). I began to let a long series of "worst case" scenarios play out in my mind and I just needed to hear the voices of those who'd been there. Although the whole RE routine sucked, I am thankfully 7 weeks pregnant now after clomid. And to be completely honest with you, I had two kids with my first husband easily in my 20's so despite my recent fears and ups and downs, I will never really be able to understand and empathize what you have been through. Nevertheless, I sat down and read your ENTIRE BLOG from start to finish this weekend. Why???? Because you are far more than a woman struggling with motherhood and infertility. You are a funny, irreverent, articulate, insightful person with enough wisdom for all of us, regardless of our circumstances. I thank you for that and I am confident that given your insight and intelligence, you will make the decisions that are right for you and your family. In fact, I loved the matrix you did with the pros and cons of doing IVF, donor or adoption. You have a better understanding of all of the variables in your life than anyone! Good luck with everything! And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go barf!
I wanted to respond to your last post, but missed the boat. I don't think I have ever before commented, but have read you for years. All I can say to the "why" is, "The heart has its reasons which reason can not know." ~ Blaise Pascal
You write so wonderfully that I sometimes am inspired to comment, even when in retrospect, why would I think I have the right? Please keep writing, and know that all of those comments from last time were written by people who just want you to be happy. You're clearly brilliant, funny, and a great mother; whatever decision you make will be a good one, and far more considered than whatever advice or unsolicited opinions on the internet.
First, I'm so sorry you got such shitty types of responses. I don't really care the intentions behind them; I'm sick of always having to do that extra work of giving people the benefit of the doubt. ESPECIALLY when you were so clearly showing your vulnerability in your last post.
Second, here's my story as briefly as I can make it: I've always wanted 2 kids -- I have a brother and I'm very close to him. Both my parents were only children and they spoke about their loneliness, especially as adults when they were dealing with their own parents' illnesses and death. Siblings seemed important to them and to me. Then I was infertile for 5 years and went through 3 failed IVFs (all bfn). For the last IVF, we had to decide how many to transfer (AGAIN) and we worked out (YET AGAIN) the probabilities and stats and various permutations of outcomes and dangers. After having the "what if we get triplets?! We can't be that irresponsible to risk our babies' health" discussion 8 gazillion times, we finally threw caution to the wind and transferred FOUR. And I have 10-month old twin boys as a result.
I would have never gone through another IVF if this last one had failed; I had lost hope... Except for that little part of me that hoped for twins because I knew I'd never try for a second child (I was emotionally wrecked from the last 5 years of trying). We took a terrible risk -- to me and to our potential child(ren). We knew the arguments for it being a terribly irrresponsible risk. I could see that argument clearly when I had pregnancy complications and plenty of scares along the way. But I still did it because it just felt so right to try. Even worst, now, I still have plenty of moments of "singleton envy" during which I wish I could bestow all my love and attention on one child, so that he feels like the center of the world for a little while. I wish I could soothe my children always and not make one wait, I wish I could stroll with one child in the park and feel relaxed instead of on high alert that both will lose it at the same time. I wish I could have felt that peaceful bond that goes with many women's breastfeeding experiences, rather than the Cirque de Soleil crazy juggling act it always felt like for me. But now that they're babbling at each other, making each other laugh, climbing all over each other, rushing to climb all over me together... I am so, so, so grateful that we did take that irresponsible risk. Was it the "right" decision? By what standards do I answer that?
I don't know how to express the empathy I feel for you. I just feel for you. I really, really do. This is so hard. And you are marvelously brave, as usual, for sharing so much of it with us. You are a real inspiration to me.
Isabel
I didn't comment on the last post because the comments had already gotten a little too exhortative (word? I don't know) by the time I got there. I'll say this: I don't know what I want, on any level. Your blog is helping me work through my own second-child decision, because I don't feel that deep need you do. Yeah, I'd like one, but if I went through what you just did I wouldn't feel that same pain (NOT SAYING YOU SHOULDN'T OR ARE WRONG IN ANY WAY). That's telling me something about how ambivalent I really am about a second kid, and that maybe I don't really want one although sometimes I think I do. And if I turned up pregnant next month (kind of laughable with my history) I would be thrilled. Having seen you work so hard for another, I'm realizing what I want is the either Zenlike or frankly lazy-ass path of "maybe, maybe not." I think in large part I want that because infertility almost killed my marriage and made me not a very nice person. I'm just not brave enough or sane enough to go down the path again and handle all that again.
And I guess that's why I didn't comment: a rambling "I dunno what I really want or why I want it" is no help.
Please never stop with the blog, for this reason if no other: "Dick Cheney, invincible antichrist."
Whatever you decide, I know it will be coming from a wise place.
Everything I try to type just comes out sounding too smaltzy and I don't like smaltzy, but the fact that you liken where you are now to those unbelievably vunerable days of early, early childhood speaks volumns. I'm sorry that you are where you are right now without even that "it gets better in 12 weeks" bromide to hold onto. I'm thinking of you. No matter what you & Paul decide to do, knowing that has to be better than not knowing. Right? I mean, it's gotta be.
This is going to be towards the bottom of the page, but for what it is worth - I hope that you both are able to work through this.
I don't have anything profound to say.
As for some of the comments, just ignore them. You know who the people are that support you. F*** everyone else who wants to criticize you.
Thank you for the inspiration. I do not know how to phrase how much your writing has sustained me in the past year.
I have just come home from an emergency curetage. What I feel is fear and betrayal and anger.
Anger that experience does not buy one anything in this corner of life. After your years of experience and clearly your mastery at the fine art of infertility treatment, one could find it fair that you'd be able to whiz through welcoming another child like the videogames where you get the frog to hop safely across an 8 lane highway / avoid masterfully the laser beams from evil shooters and make your way across the screen / behead the monster in the corner who kept you from reaching level 34b - or what have you. Anger at the unfairness of it. At the lack of control. You can be smart and experienced and still lose here. Repeatedly.
Betrayal at your own body. The birth of my first gave me renewed confidence in my body's abilities. The recent m/c and trip to the emergency room and OR (and I'm also a fellow FVL) replaced that with a gigantic punch in the gut.
Fear. I can't 'even' 'just' miscarry without massive medical intervention. What am I capable of?
I like the person I am growing into as I parent my child though. And I crave for more opportunities.
Good luck in finding your peace, your answers, and your hope.
I want you to be happy and to be at peace with any decision you make, but please, dear God, don't sleep with Pat Buchanan!
I'm sorry that your post opened up a can of worms instead of helping you in any way. For what it's worth, the comments to your post, and your post itself, helped ME.
Re-reading your "terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" post from two years ago made me realize another reason why I would like to take my chances and try for a third child. I want to experience a pregnancy and motherhood with the skill of already having two under my belt. I want to be able to hold a crying baby and know that I have been there before and not feel so lost. Or maybe I would just like a time machine so I could go back to the beginning and do it again, only now with all the experience and knowledge I have NOW. I think I would really enjoy early parenthood this time around if I had the chance. I didn't enjoy it the first time around, in fact, I think I have blocked it from my memory.
I really wish the "just adopt" and the "please consider adoption" people would take a powder. Everyone has their reasons for considering adoption...or not, and everyone who has struggled with IF has pondered the question, and ranked it somewhere on their own list of "ways to have a family".(or maybe it's not on the list at all). Those of us who have chosen ART are not all just crazy to be pregnant or have to have a baby with our own eyes or hair. For some of us it's just the easiest and less expensive way.
Amen. You just do what you need to do. Write about it here, and I will read and continue to offer my quiet support.
I say this in the most sensitive way, as someone who recently miscarried and totally gets when you say that you are a sadder, quieter version of yourself.
But I'm confused? Why are you offended when people suggest that you merely consider adoption? I don't believe that any one was saying it would wipe away the pain you've been through, only that it was one of several options going forward.
I do hope, if you feel up to it, that you'll address this in a future post. I think that your current post is not only confusing, but borderline offensive to all those adoptive parents.
Take care
All I can say is that "that sucks". Because it does.
Also, thank you for continuing to share so much of yourself, despite the heartache, the assvice, the backlash, etc. that comes from blogging about such sensitive subjects. My heart is with you and Paul while you make these difficult life decisions.
(((((((Julie))))))))
Julie, I hear you. When we decided to try again with Tori, I got no end of shite from folks trying to be helpful--from the associate in my OB's office who greeted my chart with horror, to readers on my blog who were dismayed that I'd try again and risk having to terminate another pregnancy.
It's frustrating, and sometimes it's hard to remember the hopeful voices out there. Just know that I am one of them--I believe you can do this, and I'll be right here with you when you do.
I didn't comment on the last post, thus passing up an opportunity to let the entire Internet see how greedy, irrational, sentimental, and breedery I am.
Then again, perhaps I could have taken space that was -- as is so often the case here -- taken up by people who didn't read your request (and telling how what you want Julie to do isn't the same as telling her what you want, unless maybe you're Paul) and people proposing things that (can I say "Like, duh, people"? Too petty? Shoot) you have already considered, in previous posts, and they should know that because the things they're proposing are common-to-the-point-of-total-obviousness responses to your situation.
Anyway, I got nothing but some hostility towards them and a big amorphous blob of good wishes for you.
Julie, you have been through so much on your journey to have babies. You're obviously very proud of Charlie, and it's understandable that you yearn for the pregnancy and birthing experience once again. I know that even after my complicated (even if just a little bit) pregnancy with my daughter, I still want to do it again. I'm not in your shoes, so maybe my opinion doesn't matter as much as others who are in more similar shoes. However, I do understand the desire to have a baby; I want more babies...
I've been reading your blog over the past 3 years (I think it might be around 4 years now), and I think that you deserve to do what you will with your body, including being pregnant again if that's what you want. You deserve at LEAST that much (and a great deal more, in my opinion). I realize it must be hard hearing people discouraging you. You didn't ask for it, for sure. The fact that you've given people the benefit of the doubt makes you the better person.
You have not avoided criticism by doing nothing, however undeserved that criticism is. Do what's in your heart and you can't go wrong. Even amongst criticism.
Thinking good thoughts in your general direction,
Sarah
But I'm confused? Why are you offended when people suggest that you merely consider adoption? I don't believe that any one was saying it would wipe away the pain you've been through, only that it was one of several options going forward.
Andrea, Chickenpig says it best a few comments above yours:
Everyone has their reasons for considering adoption...or not, and everyone who has struggled with IF has pondered the question, and ranked it somewhere on their own list of "ways to have a family."
I know adoption is an option. I consider it all the time — in fact, every day lately. Please do not think such a suggestion is anything new to an infertile person, who has surely heard it at least ten million times before, and who may be tired of being expected to justify why she's just not ready to make that leap.
I greatly enjoy your blog. I hope you don't take the comments the wrong way. I think it is hard for anyone to understand the concept of needing something so much that you would possibly lay your life down for it. I read Julia's blog too, and she has helped me understand how serious this need can be, and how far it can take you. But even I, who wanted children more than anything, still wonder when that desire becomes dangerously big - or does it ever when it comes to being a parent?
Three things:
1. I wish I could come up with an eloquent way of explaining why I want to be pregnant so badly and why I don't want to consider adoption right now... but I can't. I hope you can take solace in the fact that other people feel the way you do, so either none of us is crazy or we're all crazy together.
2. I would read six days of grunting posts.
3. I think the referendum is a great idea. I love the ballot! thanks for making me laugh even when you're not feeling so great.
Don't stop writing! They say the pen is mightier than the sword, but you prove that it can take the Pepsi Challenge with the Controlling Dragon Tiger Form.
I wanted to thank you for keeping this site up. I can imagine that there are times that it seems like self flagellation (I seem to be sticking to that phrase lately) but you can talk about some terrible, ugly things (infertility, depression, fear, and wanting) and make them beautiful. Your post today made me think about my comment. I hope that it didn't come across as advice, but if it did I want to apologize. I read it four or five times asking myself that question, because if you wanted advice you sure wouldn't be asking me, and I don't like to give advice anyway.
I am so sorry that hurtful things have been said. I don't even really know you and it hurts me that a desire so similar to mine, to have a child, can be met with harsh blows by others who cannot respect that what we want and what they feel we should want (or not want) doesn't always gel. I've been reading for almost two years now, afraid to comment before your last post, afraid that what I had to say wasn't meaningful, or wasn't funny, or would inadvertently hurt someone's feelings.
I hope that things feel better. And if not, I'll give you my last fortune cookie. I'll pass it on, giving up its wisdom for a higher purpose. "For great wisdom watch CNN." Yeah, having a husband that works in news has its down sides. I guess now that I've given you the fortune I can't watch CNN anymore. Damn, back to the Simpson's it is.
Wow. I don't even like cats, but the way the pro-cat lobby worded that ballot item, I would vote for the kitty in a Baby Bjorn in a second.
Perhaps the only thing more irksome than "You should adopt—there are so many babies in need of a good home" is "Maybe you're just not meant to have a baby now." Not to mention "Just relax and you'll get pregnant naturally. As soon as my mother's coworker's niece's old college roommate decided to stop trying, she got pregnant—with twins!"
Julie, there's a post that may or may not resonate with you a bit—E. writes about her ambivalence about having a second kid. Mind you, her situation isn't analogous to yours, but there's intriguing stuff about only children in there.
Julie
I'm delurking to say that while you allow us into your life, the only people's opinions that matter are yours and Pauls. I only hope that you can find happiness in whatever you decide and luck towards that end. I found your blog after we had a preemie and needed some help to know that it might be okay. Thanks for the insight. Good luck and I'm pulling for you
Hi Julie,
I am deeply sad for you, for the sadness and pain that you are experiencing. I tried to comment on your last post, but it seems you have a comments quota.
Please take my words at face value of the idiot I am...and you're a smart and self-aware woman so I'm sure you've already thought these things...but how much of this desire is the want for another child and how much is it the want of the pregnancy? I'm not saying they're mutually exclusive, of course. But maybe you have 2 different desires at once...the pregnancy, and of course the child.
Because it does seem that it may be easier for you to get a child than to get pregnant and have a child. So if it as a matter of just the child, independent of pregnancy, it's relatively easy to resolve. Of course your reasons are your own and completely valid, but I wonder how much is wanting the pregnancy intensified by your body's total lack of cooperation? Kind of like a fixation on *work, dammit!*. And maybe you're stuck there...with the anger and frustration of your body not doing what it's built to do. As a separate issue from the wanting a child. that's what I mean by separating wanting the pregnancy from wanting the child. Maybe the solution is to find a way inside yourself to untangle the body-anger and whatever else part. And move on to there, where surely there is a child at the end.
I may not be communicating well, but I hope you understand what I mean. You've been through so much...and I have deep admiration and respect for the journey that you've walked and shared with so many people.
Love to you.
Julie,
I almost never comment because I can never contribute anything original, interesting or inspiring; today will be no exception.
I think you're marvelous, witty, hilarious; your artwork (quilts, manipulated images) is pure genius. You also have a knack for cookies. The pecan tassies put about six pounds on my ass this Christmas. Thanks.
I only really want to add my support to the many readers that love to hear about the antics of Julie, Paul, and Charlie. I really wish your road was easier right now, with a clear and easily accessible destination.
Ah, "why don't you adopt". That old chestnut. That seems to get hurled around all the time, both in blogland and in the real world. There's no polite way of saying "thanks, but I didn't ask your views on it", although I think your post came close to it.
I think you're probably doing this for the same reason that most of us who are infertile are doing it, and if I could I would find a way to tell all and sundry who ask it-We do this because someday we're going to have to look ourselves in a mirror and tell ourselves that we did everything we could with fertility treatment. Maybe it worked out, maybe it didn't. Maybe we look in the mirror in 2 years, 20 years, or when our boobs are hanging past our knees. It doesn't matter-what matters is that point will come, and we need to know that tried.
Don't let the bastards get you down.
Duuurrrr....that second to the last line is meant to read "...and we need to know that WE tried."
Then, of course, that avoidance of bastards raining on the emotions closer.
(I so lost momentum with having to correct my mistakes there.)
"I think that your current post is not only confusing, but borderline offensive to all those adoptive parents."
Well I can only speak as one adoptive parent. But it is not at all offensive to me. Why is Julie's family building decisions in any way a judgement on mine? Plus, I think it is kind of offensive for someone to say "just adopt." Adoption is wonderful, but it not something to take lightly or something you jump into because of your fertility issues. It is something that you need to come to terms with, educate yourself about, and embrace fully. So it is not particuarly helpful to throw that out, especially to someone like Julie who has discussed adoption before and appears to be intelligent enough to know that adoption is an option for her.
I hope you are doing well. I hope you have another happy & uneventful pregnancy. Also, if/when you have time, it would be very interesting for some of your readers to see a selection of the comments to the last post that you think come closest to describing why you want another pregnancy.
Did I miss something?
I read many comments of people who said they had adopted, had considered adopting an then conceived, had conceived a first then adopted a second, and all sorts of variations in between. I didn't hear anyone say "just adopt." I don't think those words appeared anywhere in the comments.
Julie, your blog has been a godsend to me and countless others, and I really do understand the pain you're going through. I'm in a similar position.
But as I read it, those commenters who mentioned adoption were doing so only to share their personal journeys with you, not to impose their decisions on you. Of course you are intelligent to know about adoption on your own. But from the first day I entered the fertility clinic and was given a form with "adoption" listed as one option to parenthood, I realized that adoption would inevitably be a part of any fertility discussion.
And I too think it's ridiculous to say "just adopt." It can seem like comparing apples an oranges.
But as I struggle with what option to pursue next, I for one always appreciate hearing from adoptive parents, about how positive an experience it has been, and about how they feel they got the child they were meant to have. Those comments are immensely helpful to me.
This is a very sensitive place to be in, and even if someone didn't intend to push their opinion, it can come off that way. Infertility strips so many nerves bare that even the slightest thing can be painful. I remember feeling quite often that people were telling stories of adoption in which healthy babies just magically appeared in waiting parents' arms to grow up perfect in suburbia were attempts to strongarm me into giving up on pregnancy. Odds are some were, some weren't.
This is a process so weighted with emotion that someone will always have a contrary opionion. In same day I'm asked when we'll arrange some permanent contraception and when we'll start trying again. I just have to keep repeating to myself that most have good intentions, and that those closest to the matter - myself, my partner, my doctors, are the ones whose inputs matter and however things work out - whether we have another biological child or adopt, it'll still be our family.
Gosh, I have nothing to say that someone else hasn't already said. So I'm just here to be counted among those offering their support to you. I love reading your blog, and I'm pulling for you all the way, no matter what you choose for your family.
I'm not a parent so I can't comment on that side of things, but I am an older sibling, and your previous post really got me to thinking about my sister.
She's one of the most important people in my life, she's my friend, and the majority of my happy childhood memories involve her. I know not everyone gets along with their siblings, and I know some people didn't get the opportunity to have siblings, and these people turn out just fine. Most of us non-parents, I guess, never think about the problems and the risks our parents might have gone through to have us. Your post just made me realise that my life is better for having my sister in it, and I am grateful that my parents were given that opportunity.
If this makes you feel worse than you already do, I apologise, and disregard everything I said, it's all rubbish! I just thought and hoped a somewhat independent view might be even a little bit helpful.....?
No profound observations just sending you a hug because it sounds as if you can use one.
Heck, I don't even have answers yet for me. But I thank you for talking about your proess, it helps me and my husband through our own process of IF decision making.
Remember, whatever you decide will be the right decision for you. And that's all the universe can ever expect from you.
And the only advise I have is to give Paul and Charlie lots of random hugs. I find that random hugs help a great deal.
I tried commenting on your previous post but somehow my eloquent comment was lost. Damn, cuz it was good! (just kidding!) Anyway, I'll try again.
First of all, I'm delurking to comment because I understand - a little bit - your pain. Way back when, when I had my first miscarriage/loss and was suffering greatly, I read a passage in a book that explained the pain in a great way to me. The biological need/drive/urge to reproduce is stronger than the biological need to stay alive. This is evidenced both in humans and in animals (same thing, really) as any mother would throw themselves in front of a moving train to save their child and animals do the same to preserve their offspring. That struck me and helped explain my depression. My innate desire to reproduce was STRONGER than my innate desire to stay alive. It's biological. It's innate. It can't really be controlled. And while any mother knows they would die for their child, I think the same is true for our unborn children. Anyone who has to grieve the loss of their unborn child(ren) knows that pain.
Of course you want to be pregnant again. Of course.
I wish you all the best.
(It was better the other day - sorry!)