Second Time Around?

It's official: my sweet little Snow Pea isn't a baby anymore. She is 14 months old as of a few days ago and she is walking and talking a little more each day. Despite my all of my attempts to savor every second and slow down time, she has become a toddler. 

It is an amazing stage really. I love the sound of curiosity in her voice asking "What's that?" and I do my best to answer as enthusiastically the 400th time she asks as I do the 1st. Even better is when she asks, I answer and she responds, "ooo cool". I love watching her toddle into the kitchen every morning- step, step, fall, crawl- to pull open every cabinet until she finds the small saucepan the is just the perfect size for carrying around and banging on the floor. I love hear her exclaim "woof, woof!" anytime she hears or sees a dog. I love how absolutely nuts she goes when a playground is in eyesight, begging to go play by signing "more, please, more, please, please". Speaking of signing, I am blown away by all of the signs she does! She knows about 40 now and the other day, Chad and I spied on her pulling all the books from her shelves and "reading" them to herself by flipping through the pages and doing the signs for every picture she knew the word for. It was amazing! 


Toddlerhood is not without its challenges though. As she gets older she is learning more about what she likes and does not like and can get pretty demanding and whiny. Our new nickname for her is "Yelly Ellie" because she is quite vocal with her opinions. She also has no problem physically pushing someone away if they get too close and she doesn't want them to. She has done it to both myself and Chad, as well as a few of her baby friends and even a stranger who wanted to say hi but made the mistake of penetrating Eliana's "bubble". She throws food on the floor, arches and wiggles out of our arms anytime we try to hold her and gets into EVERYTHING. Anyone with a toddler and a clean house must be a superhero. 


All this toddler stuff really is great, but I feel like it snuck up on me. I knew it would go fast but I really can't get over how quickly her baby days flew by. It's like I blinked and they were over!  And now that she is no longer a "baby", the inevitable questions about when we will try for number two have started. I am now very outspoken about my infertility and the nature of Eliana's conception, so thankfully most people know and try to be respectful when they ask. I make sure they know I am completely ok with answering anything they want to know. I do find it interesting though that almost everyone's first question is whether a FET means we get to choose the sex of our baby. (The answer is no, in case you are wondering. The embryos do have a genetic make-up that is male or female but there is no way of finding that out without costly and risky genetic testing, which is typically reserved for cases of medical need).

Every time I'm asked I have to really stop and think about my answer. Chad and I have had a plan for a while now that we would revisit Dr Jedi for another FET sometime in the first half of 2013. But as my Snow Pea continues to grow, I find myself daydreaming of another tiny baby in the house. I begin romanticizing late night feedings and newborn cries. I even caught myself researching baby names & texting Chad for his input, just like I did when I was pregnant. More and more I can see a sibling for Eliana. I almost feel ready to have that baby. But when I think about what it would take to make that happen, I realize I am nowhere near ready to go through that process again. 

The sleepless nights, the aching back, the swollen feet, the leaky boobs. None of it was easy, but none of it compared to the anxious hopes, the empty arms, the broken heart. I try to relive what another treatment cycle would be like, and it emotionally overwhelms me. I don't think I always realize just how much having Eliana in my arms has healed me. Taken away the pain, anxiety and fear that I lived with daily. A day without tears was a rarity in my life not too long ago, now the opposite is true. It's unbelievable how much happiness she has brought into my life. But I remember those emotions, that pain. I know how easily they could come back as I anxiously hope and pray myself through another two week wait or a BFN. 

I admit though, the next time around won't be nearly as emotional as the last. If we attempt a FET without success, I will be disappointed and emotional, but it won't be as devastating now that we have our sweet girl to hold on to for comfort. The stakes will never be as high as they were before I became a mom. Even if we aren't fortunate enough to ever have another child, we will always be parents to this amazing little girl. I know all of that, but I am still not ready. I want another child, I do. I want a sibling for Eliana. And if it was as simple as just that, who knows what our choice would be, but the fact is that it's not that simple and I am not yet ready to leave my happy bubble to dive back into treatment and the anxiety that comes with it. Thankfully, we have no reason to rush. I can focus on parenting our toddler and my educational goals and cross the FET bridge when we get to it. And I know that I will get through that future cycle no matter what happens. I have learned so much on this journey and connected with so many incredible, supportive people, and I know those things will help see me through any difficulty I may face. We'll get there. In the meantime, I am going to keep working on my "slow down time" machine

Wordless Wednesday: Easy As ABC

I had a free photobook code sitting around and of course, waited until the absolute second to even think about it. I didn't want it to go to waste though so at the last minute I put this book together for Snow Pea to add to her library. I wrote it myself based on the photos and I have to say I am pretty excited about how it turned out!

Click here to view this photo book larger

The Next Level

For years, I have praised the amazing and supportive relationships in the infertility community found on twitter. Truly, the friends I have found there have helped me to get through some of the most difficult moments of my life and I am forever grateful. Many of us have known each other for 3 or 4 years now. We have been there for each other through BFNs, miscarriages, homestudies, natural cycles, medicated cycles, surgeries, successes, joys and heartbreaks. As more than one person has put it, we were there in the trenches together. When the outside world couldn't understand our pain, our hurt, when we couldn't tolerate yet another happy birth announcement or cute kid story on Facebook, we had Twitter and each other to turn to for support. 

But over the past year or so I have witnessed an ever increasing divide between those of us who have been blessed with the children we have dreamed, hoped and cried for and those in our community who are still in those trenches with empty arms. Naturally, those who have crossed over into motherhood (myself included) have been tweeting and blogging about their new roles in life - their challenges in pregnancy, adoption finalizations and ultimately parenthood. And many amazing women who were there to support us in our journey to parenthood are forced to watch their support system shrink as their timelines fill with more and more tweets about breastfeeding and cranky toddlers. I have blogged in the past about infertility survivor's guilt and I experience it almost every time I am on twitter when I see the hurt and isolation in many of my beloved friend's tweets. Which is why I wasn't surprised when I recently learned that many of my favorite twitter pals have decided to deactivate their accounts or begin trimming down who they follow to focus solely on those who are still in shoes they can relate to. I completely understand and support their decision to move on from that aspect of the community because it is no longer fulfilling their needs. We are not the same community we were when we started. Of course I am overjoyed for those of us who are now mothers, but I am also heartbroken for those who are feeling left behind. I want so badly to be able to give the same love and support I once did, but I know that while I can represent hope I can't be back in their shoes and that is something people need. I know I did. 

When I went through my miscarriage in 2010, Twitter was a source of so much support and love, but it was also a source of tremendous pain. My BFP came on the heels of a couple of others and was followed by quite a few more. All of their pregnancies continued on after mine ended, and for the longest time I had to skip over tweets from many of those women. I just couldn't bear to be reminded of where my pregnancy would be by reading what was happening in theirs. Now that I have had my successful pregnancy, I carry that feeling with me and know it's not personal when someone pulls away or un-follows me online. I know that as much as I don't want to, I have the potential to be that painful reminder to someone else and it kills me. I love this community so much and hate to think I could cause anyone to hurt. Infertility does not define me but it certainly has become a part of me and while I can't serve the same role in this community as I did when I started, I can still find ways to advocate for support, understanding and awareness. 

Before my life was consumed by the infertility battle, I worked as a Victim Advocate, primarily providing support to survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence. I loved my job and was beyond passionate about victim rights. It was demanding work however, and I made the decision to step away so that I could focus on building my family. It has been over 3 years since then and now that I am contemplating my return to a career, I have realized that my experiences have caused my focus to shift and I want more than anything to incorporate advocacy for infertility into what I do next. So for a long time, I contemplated how I could do that. I spoke with friends both in and out of the community, chewed my husbands ear off with pro/con lists, researched into all hours of the night, met with professionals working in career paths I might pursue and did a great deal of thoughtful lot of soul-searching. 

And I think I have found the path that will help me incorporate all of my passions into my future and hopefully educate others on the issues that matter to me. I recently enrolled in a course to obtain needed prerequisites for a graduate studies program in Sociology. Yes, I know this isn't a degree with a huge likelihood of high paying career, but luckily I am not in it for the money. I am hoping to focus my Master's of Sociology on women and gender studies so that I can teach these topics at the community college level. My dream is to be able to create a course that examines the role of motherhood in women's lives and what happens when women don't become mothers in the way society expects them to. I want to explore and analyze the effects of infertility and child loss on women's rights, on gender roles, on the family, on society. Even more, I want to educate future generations on these things that impact so many members of our society but are too seldom discussed outside of the people that are experiencing them. Most of all I want to try to give back to the community that has given so much to me. I know I can't be everything to everyone, but I hope that if I can follow my passion and be true to myself and my experiences, I can still be a voice and a supporter for those who need one.

Putting the Breast to Rest

The process of trying to conceive can be so emotional and overpowering, it is only natural that many of those in the trenches cope with these struggles and their deepest hopes by realizing them in dream-filled sleeps. Many of my friends have told of dreams about yet to be realized children so real and vivid, they simultaneously give them feelings of hope at the possible future and despair and their very real present. During my years of struggle, I only ever had one dream of myself as a mother that I can recall. Some of it was nonsensical like most dreams but it also had one very simple, emotional moment in which I was nursing a baby girl and it felt so incredibly tender and real that it stuck with me.

When I was finally and truly pregnant with my amazing daughter, that dream came back to me and I knew that I wanted to breastfeed her when she was born. I also knew that it isn't always as easy as plopping a baby onto your boob and I wanted to learn more about the nursing process so that I could be as successful as possible. I won't lie, I was insanely intimidated and daunted at the huge task and throughout pregnancy I did my best to soak in information from friends, books and even a class taught by a lactation consultant. I set a goal to breastfeed exclusively for the 1st six months. I also always reminded myself that breastfeeding isn't easy and it isn't life or death. If for any reason it wasn't working for her or me, it was ok to move to something that worked better for us. 


And in the beginning it really wasn't always easy. Thanks to an emergency c-section and some concerning swelling in her head after birth, Eliana and I were apart for the first few hours of her life. I can't even remember the first time I tried to nurse her. But I do remember the days at the hospital of her crying desperately for nourishment without the slightest idea of how to latch onto my breast to get it. It was frustrating and challenging for both of us. Luckily, I had some amazing nurses and one physically helped me figure it out. It would have been awkward but the result negated any weirdness and for the first time ever I successfully fed my daughter. It was incredible. 


I have had a few other bumps in the road since then: engorgement, plugged ducts, difficulty pumping, and a near bout of mastitis that I spent days fighting off. It wasn't always fun or easy and it was definitely never glamorous, but overall, I got lucky and Snow Pea and I fell into a good routine. We reached six months and the introduction of solids faster than I could have dreamed, and while the demand for the breast went down the more food she ate, and her growing awareness of the world was changing the dynamic, I saw no reason to stop just yet. So we continued our nursing relationship and I hoped to make it another six months. 


I was so thrilled when I made it to a year. By then we were down to 3 feedings a day, first thing the morning, after her afternoon nap and right before bed. It had become far less demanding than when we started, but now a year later I felt ready to wean. Snow Pea wasn't a sweet, peaceful baby anymore. She wiggly, distracted and precocious. She had started demanding milk by tugging on my shirt and whining at me during the day, biting my nipples when she got bored or wanted to switch sides. It was frustrating and exhausting. 


So again, I did my research. I talked to friends who had been there and read up and just weeks ago introduced cow's milk into my daughter's diet. She hated it at first. She knew what she wanted and it didn't come in a plastic cup. But it literally only took a week of offering a cup after her afternoon nap before she decided this was good stuff and at 13 months she has officially dropped her daytime feeding. My plan setting out was to wean from this feeding first and then the other two, one at a time, over the course of a few weeks. I was by no means in a rush. Now it seems though that my body has begun deciding for us that time is just about up. 


Earlier this week I nursed Snow Pea after her bath, just as I have for months now and realized that I felt almost completely empty. My poor girl was trying and trying but I had nothing to give her. She was miserable, screaming and crying in hunger and frustration. I had to do what was best for her needs and I gave her a bottle of plain milk that she hungrily sucked down before contentedly passing out. And then I cried.

I thought I was ready. I was the one who decided it was time to wean, that encouraged her to transition away from needing my body to feed her, but now that it is actually happening, it is more emotional than I ever anticipated. My body has nourished hers for nearly 2 years! For 9 months she lived and grew inside my body and for the last 13 my milk has sustained her. Being unable to do for her what I have done her entire life made me feel a little bit heartbroken, like she was growing too fast and didn't need me anymore. But it also made me see that she really is weaning herself even more than I'm weaning her and as hard as it may be, I need to follow her lead and let her have this bit of independence. My child is becoming just that, a child. She is no longer an infant and she is ready to move on from our nursing relationship.

I am not positive how many weeks or days of breastfeeding are left. Will I even know my last nursing session with her when it happens? What I do know is that I am grateful to have been able to breastfeed at all and to have been able to do it for so long. I also know that I don't believe any of the media hype that I am somehow more or less of a mom because of it. I won't get into all that now, especially since I have already written a more at length post on the topic (which you can find here) but I do want to be sure that my words don't get turned into fuel for a supposed "mommy war". All moms that love and do their best for their kids are good moms, period. I have done what was best for my me and daughter so far and now that it is changing, I am looking forward what that means for us in the future. 

NIAW: Don't Ignore The Baby Steps

April 22- 28, 2012, is National Infertility Awareness Week. It is a time to speak up, to share our journeys and educate others about infertility. A time to increase our advocacy on the issues facing those with infertility. A time to raise the volume on the voice of the infertility community and ensure that we are not forgotten or ignored. 

All over the country so many of us have participated in NIAW by organizing and participating in fundraisers, sharing infertility information online and writing blog posts dedicated to raising awareness. For many, NIAW also marks their "coming out" as many of us choose this week to open up about our private struggles and share with our friends and family what we have been up against. I myself, shared my journey publicly for the first time during NIAW just two years ago. It is an inspirational week and the advocacy and awareness that takes place is incredible. There are so many big things happening this week and it's important to talk about them, to share them and cheer for them. But in doing so we must be sure not to ignore the smaller steps being taken as well.

You may not know this from reading my blog, which is focused on my personal journey rather than the broad scope of infertility, but I am passionate about advocacy and I very often feel guilty for not doing enough. I feel guilty for not fundraising, for not blogging enough, for not writing enough letters to my politicians, for not networking and supporting the community as much as I want to. Maybe you feel this way too. Maybe you haven't donated or written a blog post this week. Maybe you don't feel ready to publicly share your journey on Facebook or open yourself up to family and friends. Maybe you had never even heard of NIAW until now. But that doesn't mean you can't get involved in whatever way you are comfortable with, no matter how big or small. Don't ignore that even the smallest of actions can have a big impact. 

Advocacy can often feel like embarking on a perilous climb up a steep mountain. The goal often feels insurmountably high and the steps to get there immeasurably large. It is often intimidating to even think about facing that huge hurdle, but don't ignore the baby steps. Don't ignore that donating just one dollar to an organization like RESOLVE can provide vital funding to a program that supports the 7.3 million women and men in this country dealing with infertility. Don't ignore that sharing just one simple fact about infertility can open someone's eyes to the reality of the disease. Don't ignore that just one phone call to your local representative can impact public policy that affects family building options. Don't ignore that even an anonymous blog post can comfort someone who thought they were alone with their struggle and can also provide you with an emotional outlet in the process. Don't ignore the possibility that someone close to you is suffering in silence and by sharing your journey, you may both find solace. Don't ignore that even just one kind word to someone who feels alone, one virtual hug to someone who is hurting, one supportive comment to someone who feels lost can make all the difference for them.And don't ignore that the end of NIAW today, doesn't mean the end of opportunities to raise awareness or show your support. Advocacy can be big or small and it can happen every day of the year.

Don't ignore infertility. Don't ignore its effects. And most importantly don't ignore yourself or the positive impact you can have on the infertility community every little step at a time.

For more information about infertility, National Infertility Awareness Week, and ways you can get involved visit:

• http://www.resolve.org/infertility101  (Basic understanding of the disease of infertility.)
• http://www.resolve.org/national-infertility-awareness-week/about.html (About NIAW)

NIAW Don't Ignore Each Other

There is so much educating and activism happening during National Infertility Awareness Week aimed at making sure the voices of the infertility community are heard by those who have not experienced our struggles and that our concerns are not ignored. While this is a very important part of NIAW, it is also a good time for us to take time to reflect on the infertility community as a whole and be sure we are not ignoring any part of it. 

The online infertility community has grown by leaps and bounds since I stumbled upon it nearly three years ago, and with that growth a certain amount of mainstreaming seems to have happened. I am not saying anything against the "traditional" IFer, I myself fall into that category in many instances, but with this year's NIAW theme "don't ignore", I think it is a good opportunity to not only raise awareness within the general public, but among ourselves as well. I have too often heard from IFers who feel left out because their current circumstances don't look like everyone else's. So here some things that both the world around us and the infertility community itself should not ignore:

• Don't ignore that going through IVF, IUI or any form of ART is not what defines infertility. These are methods of attempting to resolve infertility, not the disease itself. Many people will find resolutions without ART but that doesn't make them any less infertile.
• Don't ignore that infertility resolutions are not one size fits all and not every path is for everyone. Likewise, just because there are choices that aren't right for you doesn't mean that it's not the best option for someone else in their journey.
• Don't ignore that choosing adoption is not an indication of "failure" at biological conception. It is a choice that everyone makes for many different reasons and due to their own unique circumstances.
• Don't ignore that choosing to live child-free is just as valid a resolution to infertility as any other and not a worst-case scenario or last resort. Our child-free sisters and brothers are a vital part of this community.
• Don't ignore that secondary infertility is real and it hurts. Having a baby easily the first time does not change that.
• Don't ignore that becoming a parent is not a cure for infertility. Most infertility survivors still struggle with their journey and will face the same as well as new struggles if they choose to attempt to have another child.
• Don't ignore that the ability to get pregnant doesn't mean someone is fertile. Losing a child or a pregnancy leaves people with the devastating hurt of infertility in addition to the loss of their child. 
• Don't ignore the many men struggling with infertility that need our support too.
• Don't ignore that non-traditional parents face infertility just like every other group and being young, straight or married does not make anyone more deserving of our support than anyone else.
• Don't ignore that the pain of infertility is not a contest. There is no winner for who has been trying longer, who has done more cycles or who has spent more money. We have all been through our own version of hell and we should all be here to support each other regardless of the differences in our experiences and outcomes. 

I know that I am preaching to the choir for the most part, but I still think it is worth taking the time to remind ourselves of these things. It is only natural and expected that we gravitate toward people who's journeys look more like ours, people that can we can relate to and share with when discussing IVF protocols or adoption agencies, but that doesn't mean we don't still have something valuable to offer those whose stories are different from ours and that they don't still want our love and support.


For more information of Infertility and National Infertility Awareness Week visit

• http://www.resolve.org/infertility101  (Basic understanding of the disease of infertility.)
• http://www.resolve.org/national-infertility-awareness-week/about.html (About NIAW)

To Snow Pea, With Love

Forgive me for posting this a week late, but it has been a non-stop whirlwind of activity lately! None so important or as emotional for me as my baby girl's first birthday on April 9, 2012.

To Eliana On Your First Birthday,
You will never know what this year has meant to me, how much joy and love you have brought into my life. I will remember the moment I first heard your cry for the rest of my life. It is a beautiful sound that echoes in my head and my heart constantly and I will be happy to replay it forever. I can't believe how quickly that sweet sound has gone and been replace by the glorious noise of your giggles and first words. Watching you grow and change throughout the first year of your life has been nothing short of amazing. Each day you give me and your Daddy new reasons to smile, new reasons to shed happy tears and new reminders of how unbelievably grateful and lucky we are to be your parents. I thought I knew love in the first moment I held your tiny body close to mine, just moments after you were born, but this year has shown me that I will never know just how deep and big my love can grow because each day I fall even more in love with you and and the amazing person you are already becoming.

You have such a unique personality and I love getting to know the things that make you, you. You adore books and kitties, always squealing with excitement for both. You like to share and to pretend to feed me and your baby, scooping invisible food from an empty cup onto a spoon. You love to giggle and dance and clap. You really are a very happy baby and people you meet in the store or on the street are always very excited to tell you that. You are dying to be even more mobile than you are already are and you get very frustrated if you're stuck in my arms or your carseat for too long. You love to communicate and have started picking up new signs within minutes and excitedly adding them to your vocabulary, as well as attempting to verbally repeat a lot of what Mommy and Daddy say. You're also a bit of a daredevil and you seem to enjoy the adrenaline rush of a slight scare. You have a toy monster that sings and dances and every time you see him, you squeal and beg to see him sing. But he also freaks you out and you always whine a little and reach for Mommy if he gets too close. We can't put him away though because you instantly cry and sign "more" to see him again and again, even though you're still a little scared. Only a year old and already standing up to your fears. Such a brave girl.

I have to admit I am a little sad to say goodbye to your first year of babyhood and all of those precious infant behaviors that you'll never get back, like the sweet "ooo" face you made as you stretched your arms and legs during your first few weeks home, and the sweet coos of contentment you made before you learned to make more distinct sounds and the adorable way you slept all wrapped up like a burrito in your swaddle. Those days were far shorter and flew by far faster than I could have dreamed. I would keep them forever if it didn't mean missing out on the joy and excitement of watching you grow up. As amazing as your infancy was, watching you venture into toddler-hood has been an incredible adventure. There nothing quite like seeing you figure out a new skill for the first time. The look of curiosity, determination and pride on your face is breathtaking. I hope and pray that these attitudes will stay with you for life. For my part, I will do my absolute best to nurture and encourage you to continue to be exactly who you are. I will do everything I can to ensure that you grow to remain the amazing person you already are at a year old: curious and playful, determined and daring, friendly and giving and most of all happy and excited about life. I will do everything in my power to make sure you always have a truly happy life full of love and joy, because that is what you have given me just by being here and you deserve nothing less. I love you, Snow Pea. You are the light of my life and my world is forever brighter with you in it. Thank you for giving me the best year of my life so far. Happy 1st Birthday, Eliana.

Love,
Mommy