Thank-You (if you're here, I mean you)
This blog started with a place to vent about the in-laws. They were due to arrive in the city a few weeks after the last miscarriage (and no, they were not invited). I wasn't in a great place and so the blog also became an outlet for the miscarriage crap. However, it's time for me to wrap it up for a while.
The Reasons:
1. My part-time job still exists (at least in part over the summer) and I need to put in more hours getting my courses ready.
2. I am paid to talk at people. I used to think of this as talking to people but when your lecture hall holds at least 100 people, there is very limited ability for class participation - as a lecturer, you really start talking at people. I do this so much that I really don't need to have another venue to talk at people. I need to read and listen to others - I've never learned very much from myself.
3. I feel (an almost) intergenerational disconnect with a lot of the infertility blogs out there. Who am I kidding? I'm 43 - the overwhelming majority of 43 year old women could publish blogs about their inability to have more children (I'm only slightly different in that I wanted more and couldn't have them).
4. I'm not that interested in reading about protocols and injections and find I'm beginning to get a little bitchy about the whole thing . I went through four fresh cycles, gave myself all my own needles and never had sedation for retrieval. Yah, it wasn't fun but it was all a hell of a lot easier than giving birth to my son (not to scare any of you).
5. I am crushed by those people who end up with negative results and for those who end up with positives, I follow them for a few weeks and then wish them the best and delete them from my favourites. I don't like what this says about me.
But I do mean the thank-you in the most sincere way that I know how.
The last time I spent a lot of time grieving, I quit my job, went back to school and essentially isolated myself from all family and friends. There were many, many days when I couldn't remember the last time that I had said anything to anyone (not even the most mundane of interactions).
I no longer have the luxury of that type of isolation - my husband and son need me too much (and I need them). However, I have cut myself off, to a very large extent, from almost all of my friends since the last miscarriage and that is never a good thing for me. In the interim, my blog, other blogs and comments have kept my sanity more or less intact (okay, maybe less but I'm working on it).
I wish that I could shelter all of you from the potential disappointments in life but in the long run you would be bored and restless and you wouldn't thank me for it.
For god's sake people, it's not hope that is a bitch, it's the loss of hope. And yes, what you don't have you can't lose but I don't want to meet someone who never dares to hope - they would be far more crippled than a simple infertile would ever be (not that I characterize any of you as "simple".)
Take Care,
DinoD
This blog started with a place to vent about the in-laws. They were due to arrive in the city a few weeks after the last miscarriage (and no, they were not invited). I wasn't in a great place and so the blog also became an outlet for the miscarriage crap. However, it's time for me to wrap it up for a while.
The Reasons:
1. My part-time job still exists (at least in part over the summer) and I need to put in more hours getting my courses ready.
2. I am paid to talk at people. I used to think of this as talking to people but when your lecture hall holds at least 100 people, there is very limited ability for class participation - as a lecturer, you really start talking at people. I do this so much that I really don't need to have another venue to talk at people. I need to read and listen to others - I've never learned very much from myself.
3. I feel (an almost) intergenerational disconnect with a lot of the infertility blogs out there. Who am I kidding? I'm 43 - the overwhelming majority of 43 year old women could publish blogs about their inability to have more children (I'm only slightly different in that I wanted more and couldn't have them).
4. I'm not that interested in reading about protocols and injections and find I'm beginning to get a little bitchy about the whole thing . I went through four fresh cycles, gave myself all my own needles and never had sedation for retrieval. Yah, it wasn't fun but it was all a hell of a lot easier than giving birth to my son (not to scare any of you).
5. I am crushed by those people who end up with negative results and for those who end up with positives, I follow them for a few weeks and then wish them the best and delete them from my favourites. I don't like what this says about me.
But I do mean the thank-you in the most sincere way that I know how.
The last time I spent a lot of time grieving, I quit my job, went back to school and essentially isolated myself from all family and friends. There were many, many days when I couldn't remember the last time that I had said anything to anyone (not even the most mundane of interactions).
I no longer have the luxury of that type of isolation - my husband and son need me too much (and I need them). However, I have cut myself off, to a very large extent, from almost all of my friends since the last miscarriage and that is never a good thing for me. In the interim, my blog, other blogs and comments have kept my sanity more or less intact (okay, maybe less but I'm working on it).
I wish that I could shelter all of you from the potential disappointments in life but in the long run you would be bored and restless and you wouldn't thank me for it.
For god's sake people, it's not hope that is a bitch, it's the loss of hope. And yes, what you don't have you can't lose but I don't want to meet someone who never dares to hope - they would be far more crippled than a simple infertile would ever be (not that I characterize any of you as "simple".)
Take Care,
DinoD
posted by DinosaurD at 6:33 PM
5 Comments:
Dang, everyone is leaving! Do what you gotta do and hang in there.
Hugs,
Kate
It is people like you that remind us of what it means to have hope; who dig deep into their own limited reserves and hand out what they can. I don't want you to go.
Please, please stay?
I'm with you. I keep thinking that if I need to change my favorites list more and more away from infertility.
I am not really interested in protocols, and like you my heart seems to be breaking all the time. For others first and then for myself.
I will say that you are one of the few out there that truly seem to be in a similar position, so I don't want you to go either. What do you say to a few weeks off instead? Just kidding. Sort of.
No, really, I understand. And you are a reminder to me that I need to add some more political blogs to my list, and get rid of some of the infertility ones. I believe taking them off my list doesn't make me petty, but rather indicates my own personal growth and self preservation.
Take care.
You brought tears to my eyes... in a good way. Ultimately your most treasured responsibility is to your family. I hope your while doesn't turn into forever. I'm nosey and want to know what's going on in your life. I'm sorry for the feeling of an intergenerational disconnect... I wish infertility didn't have a time stamp on it. I wish our eggs didn't say due to expire on x/x/xx Wouldn't that be a wonderful world.
Ultimately my hope for you is just to enjoy your life... your husband and your child. Heck maybe it's my wish for you... either way you get the drift.
Thank you for letting us know how you are. It sounds as if you are pretty savvy about what you need, and it sounds as if it's not us. I hope that whatever you do, you get what you need.
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