Reflecting on 2014, Family-building, and Possibilities

With the new year on the horizon, I've been in a little bit of a panic. I am no stranger to anxiety and panic attacks, and while this hasn't risen anywhere near to the level of panic attack (with work over the years, those appear to have mostly been dealt with), the anxiety is nevertheless present. I just cannot believe 2014 is over! Where did it go? I've been feeling like I must not have done anything with it because it barely seems to have existed! 2013 was by far one of the worst years of my life - I lost a baby and my dad, among others. I remember being at the end of 2013 and thanking God for both the blessings 2013 had brought (my sweet, silly kitty, for one), and that it was OVER. But this new year's eve, I feel so desperate for MORE of 2014! 

Then someone reminded me of some of the great pictures I'd posted through the year, and I decided to go back through them and make a collage for myself of a handful of amazing moments and memories from the year. I am SO glad I did!

Of course this year wasn't perfect. I lost a grandfather. And amazing experiences don't just fall into your lap (98% of the time). You have to work for them, persist, and be ready for the unexpected. That's exactly what I did. At the beginning of the year, I had several goals: Become a life coach by taking and finishing the UC Davis program (done), incorporate my business (done), become a public speaker (not yet), finish a first draft of my first novel (not yet), put our house on the market so we can by our dream home (done), pick an adoption agency (done), finish our adoption agency application (not yet), plan and take a 3-4 week trip overseas (done), visit my husband's side of the family (done), work on a few close friendships (ongoing), and lose 15 more pounds or 1 more clothing size (LOL).

You can see that some goals were met while others weren't. To be fair, though, it was a bit ambitious. Probably unrealistic. But OMG, what an amazing year it led to! I made incredible friends in my coaching class, and got to see things out in the world that so overwhelmed me, I was overcome with tears of joy while in their presence. No wonder I want MORE of 2014!

On the one hand, my list, as a set of goals, was unrealistic and overwhelming. People ask me why I haven't made more progress on the adoption paperwork - why I seem to be putting it off. Some of it might be that I'm procrastinating from a fear of failure, but honestly, it's because when it comes to building my family, well, I have more control over the outcome of other things. Admittedly, we need a better support community for us to move forward through the adoption process, so that's something I'll be looking for in 2015.

But if, instead of viewing my overwhelming, unrealistic list as one of goals, we view it as a list of possibilities, then WOWZERS! Anything can happen!

People are different, and while some do well with goals, some of us, including myself, thrive under a looser construct. We need space for creativity and bounce back faster from the unexpected when we aren't constricted by what we see as boundaries and rules that our Gremlins tell us we should be following and make us feel bad if we don't.

My resolution for 2015 is this: Instead of goals, I will have possibilities. Because that's really what they are anyway.

Are you more motivated by goals or possibilities? How did you do with them last year? How do you think this applies to building your family or coping with infertility?

Wave of Light 2014

I am the mother of 4 children who will never have a birthday.

Every year on this day, people like me who have experienced pregnancy or infant loss, and others who support us, light candles in acknowledgement of our losses and to help spread awareness. I learned of this and began my participation after my first two miscarriages, in 2010. That was the year I discovered an amazing community of bloggers and tweeps who shared my struggles. I hope if you have this in common with us and haven't reached out, that you will. We are here for you. 

Here is my Wave of Light for 2014. This year is a little different - we have an overly curious kitten, so no open flame this year.  Nevertheless, here's to my babies in heaven, Athanasios, Barbara, Cecilia, and Diomedes. My prayers are always with you, and I hope you're surrounded by the love of your grandpas, too.

Seven

There are so many things I could write about right now, and I plan on addressing them, one by one, in the near future. Some of you know what we went through earlier this year. Some of you don't. It suffices to say, I have come out the other side feeling changed, awakened. For the first time in my life, I feel as clay must feel, soft and pliable, ready to be shaped by a master potter into something miraculous.

Master Potter Spins His Wheel, from Nagarjun

I have experienced much loss in my life. The death of loved ones, born or unborn, and other, less critical losses that still manage to carry a certain amount of trauma. But never have I had so many losses occur in such a short amount of time. I read somewhere that the average person experiences a serious loss once every three or so years. From the end of last year, into the beginning of this one, in about seven weeks, we had seven tragic and scary events: Two deaths of loved ones, a miscarriage, an attempted burglary, an out-of-town hospitalization, a loved one’s cancer diagnosis, and a complicated situation of being trapped while pregnant. 

Many people recognize some of these as losses. But others are not as obvious. So, as I tell you about them, I intend to include some analysis of my own grief. I'm sure this process will leave me feeling vulnerable. I can only hope to continue to receive the same compassion you have shown me in the past.

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness

This is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and today was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. To commemorate our lost babies, many in the community participate in the Wave of Light, lighting candles at 7 PM in our own time zones. Here is mine:

 

I am the mother of three lost babies, Athanasios, Barbara, and Cecilia. So I light three candles, one for each. They are on our household altar, an Orthodox Christian tradition. Here's another picture so you can see the Icons a little better:



We have an Icon for the patron saint of each of our babies. the largest one, in the center, is Saint Barbara. The smaller one to the left is Saint Athanasios, and the tiny one to the right is Saint Cecilia. There is also a glass Icon of Jesus, and part of our Icon of King David in this photo (David is the Wacky Wicketeer's patron saint.) We have others on our household altar and in our home, but these are the ones the help us grieve our babies. Each saint has a name/feast day, and it's on these days that we memorialize that lost child and all that happened or didn't happen centering on their part in our lives. In this way, we can remember them and pray for them once a year, without obssessing over the exact dates of events.

My first two losses, Athanasios and Barbara, were "missed miscarriages". This means that fetal death was diagnosed while they were still in the womb. I then waited for my body to push them out. Athanasios took a week. Barbara took two and a half weeks. When people ask what date I had the miscarriage, or I have to fill it out on a form, this always befuddles me. What date do I pick? The date when I had that eight-week ultrasound done and the heartbeat that had been there two weeks before was gone? Or the date I went into my mini-labor? Or the date I passed the fetal tissue? Having one day each year to grieve these events, and the term milestones and due date that were never reached, and the day of my BFP, helps me cope. It helps to keep my life focused on living.

I want to note here that in our theology, humans do not become Angels. Angels are another type of being entirely. So, though I may occasionally use the term to describe my babies in Heaven, I use it loosely, not under the belief that they are actually Angels. The more accurate term to me is "Lost Babies". I prefer to be called a "Baby loss mother" or "Mommy of a lost baby" than "Mommy of an angel". But, for my loss to be acknowledged at all is both an honor and a rarity, so I really don't mind the use of the term angel in doing so.

Thanks for reading this post. And to those that go so far as to acknowledge my losses, a big thank you for your compassion and respect. One in four women of childbearing age experience pregnancy or infant loss, yet it is still a taboo subject. This means many parents are left to grieve alone. I hope you'll help me change that.

Wave of Light: Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day

Saturday, October 15 was/is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. To honor those babies gone too soon, many of us participated in a "wave of light" by lighting candles at 7 pm in our time zone.

To mourn and honor the three babies we've lost, the Wacky Wicketeer and I named each one after a Saint, in the Greek Orthodox tradition of naming babies. Also in the Orthodox Christian tradition, we have icons of Saints in our home, mostly in an area set up specifically for prayer. The patron Saints of our angel babies are Athanasios, Barbara, and Cecilia. So far we have icons for Athanasios and Barbara, but have yet to find one for Cecilia. On their Name Days, we light a candle and say a prayer for their souls and ours. So we thought it appropriate that on this community-wide day of remembrance, we light three candles and say prayers for all affected by pregnancy or infant loss. (If you look closely at the photo, you'll see the icons of Saints Athanasios and Barbara on the left.)

Our wave of light.

So how do I feel about these losses? I still struggle on occasion to understand why. I struggle with dreams of who my babies may have become. But then I remind myself that the why doesn't matter, and that my babies are with God. This allows me to see His light in every baby--to see just how precious each one is. I can see Him shining through in their little faces, and feel connected to all my babies, past, present, and future.

How we got to IVF & Current Status

Last year, after going through two miscarriages at about 8 weeks, I had a bazillion tests done to see what could be wrong. We found nothing. No uterine factors, no immunology issues, no clotting factors, no infection. The Wacky Wicketeer and I were both karyotyped after the first miscarriage, which showed that we, ourselves, had no major chromosome defect that might be contributing to the loss. My general practitioner did find that I had a severe vitamin D deficiency. However, my Reproductive Endocrinologists (REs) would not attribute my losses to this factor. (Despite the fact that there are recent studies coming out showing a possible relationship between uterine lining and vitamin D.) Go here for more information on causes of Recurrent Pregnancy Loss (RPL): http://www.asrm.org/uploadedFiles/ASRM_Content/Resources/Patient_Resources/Fact_Sheets_and_Info_Booklets/recurrent_preg_loss.pdf)

We were very disappointed in the attention and lack of customer service we were receiving at our first clinic. So, we went to a new one last fall.

Our new RE, Dr. "Analytical", diagnosed me with a mild form of Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). You can learn more about PCOS here: http://haveababy.com/infertility-education/causes-of-infertility/pcos.html. PCOS is a syndrome, thus it occurs on a spectrum. At my end of the spectrum, I still ovulate regularly, but my eggs are immature and/or poor quality.

Dr. Analytical has a theory that, between poor-quality eggs caused by PCOS, and abnormal sperm, as exemplified by the Wacky Wicketeer's abnormal sperm morphology, we end up with a non-viable embryo on the rare occasions that sperm actually fertilizes egg. This then results in a pregnancy loss.

Dr. Analytical has explained to us that our best chance at having a biological child is through In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) with Intra-cytoplasmic Sperm Injection (ICSI) and genetic screening. In this way, we are the most likely to become pregnant with a viable embryo.

So, here we are. We decided to do IVF with ICSI and genetic screening, and are now in the midst of treatment. It is a trying process, and we are attempting to approach it with grace, with respect for our marriage, and with love for the embryos conceived in the process. I'll explain more of the details in another post, but for now, know that we have five, maybe six, embryos in their first home at the clinic, each fighting to grow. Please send them, and us, your prayers, hope, love, luck, and well-wishes. Thanks in advance, and lots of babydust to those looking for it!

The Break-In

So, I suppose I should give some explanation of my Wordless Wednesday post last week. Basically, while the Wacky Wicketeer and I were out on our Valentines' date last Sunday night, our house was broken into.

On the one hand, we were very fortunate that they didn't take a LOT more than they did. The value of what was taken barely meets our deductible, so it's not even worth the postage to file a claim with the insurance company. We made our police report, and that's enough.

On the other hand, we feel violated and physically insecure. Especially me. And really, really irritated that a family heirloom jade ring, my childhood coin collection, and my laptop were all stolen (amongst other things). It's really difficult to rebuild your calendar, writing, blog artwork, contact information, and to recreate the numerous lists you use when you are an obsessive planner like I am. Oh, and not to mention the mounds of laundry I had to do because I couldn't stand the thought of wearing my clothes after the burglars had put their grimey hands all over them, rifled through them and pulled them out all over the bedroom. Yeesh.

I think it suffices to say, once your house is robbed, you are not only extra vigilant, but you increase the home's security. When we arrived home and saw doors open, I think we both had a moment when we held our breath, expecting the worst. We were lucky the first hit was a small one. It brought our attention to the security of our home, and now we can prevent the very thing we thought had happened.

Oh, Dear, It's Been Awhile!

Somehow, two and a half months have passed without a post! I think I am struggling against a mental block, wanting to finish my description of everything I've been through in the last couple of years, but at the same time, not wanting to think about it too much.

Right now, I can say that I was depressed last year. Pretty much the whole year, with only a couple days where things seemed bright and the fog briefly parted. I think those closest to me could see the evidence of it: My lack of productivity, my more frequently messy house, my need for escapism.

The new year has brought with it a new attitude for me. I think it provided a mechanism by which I could divide the sadness and horrors of the last year from the bright future I hope for. I knew I had successfuly moved out of my depression when, on January 11, I suddenly realized that I had passed the anniversary of my physical loss of my first baby five days prior, and had completely missed it. These anniversaries are normally days of deep reflection and sadness for me. But here, I had passed right by it!

For me, that was a sign. I will never forget what it was like to be joyfully pregnant with those two babies, as brief as my time of joy was. The Wacky Wicketeer and I will memorialize them in our own way every year on their Greek Saints' name days. But, I am no longer in mourning. I am optimistic, and happy. I have Hope again.

Bittersweet Memories



Image: Darren Robertson / FreeDigitalPhotos.net


A little over a year ago, I became pregnant for the first time. That was after over two years of trying, and our second attempt at IUI (intra-uterine insemination). That pregnancy was one of the happiest times in my life. Life was full of promise, and in naivete I found bliss.

It's funny how our senses absorb simple, virtually unrelated information - sounds, smells, tastes - and imbue them with emotion to be perpetually associated together. When I was pregnant that first time, I was using this anise-flavored toothpaste. I'm not particularly fond of anise. In fact, I much prefer peppermint. But it was supposed to be better for me, so there I was with my anise toothpaste. After I lost the baby, I switched back to peppermint.

For some reason, the other night I found myself using anise toothpaste again. As soon as I tasted it, I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. It warmed me and filled me. I quickly realized why - the taste was transporting me back to that naive and joyous time - and the tears flowed.

It is another, bittersweet reminder that, as this holiday season approaches that I thought would be my first with a baby in my arms, instead of my Athanasios or Barbara, I have anise toothpaste.