Tag: #carryonwarrior

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Yale Schmale: Ivf Horror Story

If something doesn’t feel right it probably isn’t. Bottom line. We have had a terrible experience with Yale Reproductive Center. I don’t even want to walk back through those doors. And despite what this will be chalked up to this is not just an emotional meltdown grasping for something to blame in grief. I know all about that. I’m a mental health counselor. This is about trust. You trust a doctor because you think they know more than you, but what was missing here is that they did not care nearly (if any) about us. I’ve felt this way for a long time, but since I wanted to keep my eye on the prize and “stay positive”, like everyone tells you…. I stayed quiet. I stayed quiet through the many alarms going off in my head. My hunch is even our IUI’s could have been planned better and paid more attention to.

I think if they communicated and paid attention then we would have a baby right now. I believe that with my whole heart because of the many evidences of them not knowing what was going on with anything.

And I already know what they can and will do. They will cover up for negligence by the fact we are clearly just emotional. That’s what will happen here. That’s how large medical practices get away with things all the time.

So here is our story:

Worst experience I’ve ever had with a medical institution. You are a number. You see a different “fellow” every time, and your “doctor” one or two times. In my opinion we would have been pregnant long before if anyone in this place communicated with one another. I’m sure you could and then will chalk this up to being in a painful emotion. But that’s minimizing what actually happened here. How many irresponsible things happening with our time, our money, and our hearts.

From not knowing our correct protocol, and if I wasn’t on top of it we would have started taking incorrect medicine. To the fact that the offices terrible communication led to a decision about frozen or fresh transfer to be made immediately while I was seeing clients back to back. The woman called back and asked my wife (I’m a woman we are gay) if she wanted to talk to her husband. We have been patients of yours for over a year, you’re handling the future of our baby and our joy here, and you don’t know who we are?

Then let’s get into the back and forth over frozen or fresh transfer. It’s appearing now that we should have done frozen and we think someone set it up because that was best, but another person said it was borderline. In the end the morning of it took a long time for everyone to get on the same page. We never spoke to our actual doctor at all about this, again a melange of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd year fellows.

I am not a doctor and I was concerned about the high thyroid levels that spiked with the fertility medications, the ones that we tried so hard to get down prior to trying to conceive. Our thyroid checks were not stayed on top of throughout, because no one speaks to each other.

We get a report in the beginning of mono diamniotic twin pregnancy, we are cautious as it’s early. And nervous because it’s higher risk and we know that. We go back in and it appears there is one sac and a hematoma on the other side of the membrane, we are possibly a twin down and we went in for heavy bleeding. At this time we see a tiny heartbeat and are given hope, sent home with a picture of our baby. No one said what I was thinking the whole time. If one twin goes because of a chromosome abnormality and they are identical the other is going. Was it too early to know these things. Sure. Should we have been fully spoken to by our doctor, a full experienced doctor about the risks. The heartbeat was 110, the bottom of the scale, it was on its way out too and yet we went home excited and the staff encouraged that. No one said be cautious and specifics about the mono di.

In fact no other resident even mentioned the twin situation. An actual doctor dr Pal, did the first ultrasound and gave us real info, including how early to tell. We aren’t stupid, but it’s the most questions I had answered the whole time. She did not check on us when we had bleeding, she did not check on us at all.

At this time we were told to come back 3 days later on a Monday to check things. My wife called to make the appointment and they said they didn’t have anything til Thursday. Again if we were told to come for bleeding where is the follow through.

This fertility clinic is the do it yourself variety. This is the target self checkout and if there is an error you better know how to fix it yourself. I have so many questions, so many anxieties, my wife and this baby we want to have are my world. I’m not a number. I’m a human.

So the set up was one baby was ok with a heartbeat and the bleeding stopped fully and we got excited again. And when she went to the ultrasound I was on FaceTime because I’m trying to provide and it’s just an early one. I had been at every other appointment no matter how small. But this one my wife’s twin went with her and I was on FaceTime. I got to hear our baby has no heart beat and probably hasn’t in a week from another different doctor over a screen before my 3 pm client. Again no word from dr Pal. We should have stopped progesterone a week ago so my wife and I could get on with our grief, and we would have known that if they talked to each other and prioritized our Monday appointment. We had just had bleeding. No one cared whatsoever.

Yale gets picked for its name. And I think they have forgotten real human values. It’s a machine, and contrary to their words to dismiss my many concerns they are not “a well oiled machine.” I will never affiliate myself with this group again.

My wife was sent home with a hat to collect our dead baby in and a specimen cup, and a two sided pamphlet about support groups. No word any of the way through our miscarriage from the actual experienced doctor.

The only comfort there are the few gems of nurses we will remember fondly in our hearts. The ones who get it. Doctors became arrogant and lost, and I just plan to learn from that. That I’m not too important to sit with a human and talk to them fully about what they are feeling and going through.

We will be just a statistic to them, an angry customer clearly clouded by grief, but they have a legacy with us.

We will be seeking out a space to share our very intimate fertility journey with people who genuinely show us the attention we deserve when they are getting thousands of our dollars, and holding our hope in their hands. There is a way you treat people and this was not it.

We will not be walking back through the doors of Yale fertility! There is a reason their reviews are terrible. I am so disappointed and hurt with the lack of care we have received.

I will never again put our care in the hands of someone who is an expert in medicine that isn’t also an expert in caring about the individual.

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The unthinkable

*also please don’t tell us it was early or it will all be ok, tell us it’s ok to express our journey as we see fit, and that you will hold us through our pain.*

What they fail to tell you when you’re a survivor of trauma, huge life transitions, and vicious ongoing self-development; is that you won’t hit a place where human suffering becomes less. Unknowing of this you will keep searching. Maybe the beauty is that you search anyway.

There is a certain amount of entitlement that a survivor has. They almost expect that if and when they have worked hard to turn their stars around that life will grant them a time to sail peacefully. Perhaps I am not capable of sailing peacefully, because I’m too determined to fill every page. I fill in the margins, and the back, and the top, and then I make notes around that too.

My best friend calls it defying gravity.

We thought we could defy gravity with science and this time again is not the one for us. Again.

It has however allowed me the opportunity to view with extreme clarity the many changes in myself that have occurred over the last two years. It has allowed me to know I won’t shatter into a million pieces. It’s allowing this unique look at my sensitivity. I thought I was Teflon before, and that was all wrong. You are not Teflon until you have experienced unspeakable loss. And even then soft can never be Teflon, you may think you are, but you are not.

I thought I experienced suffering before, but this is an entirely different ball game. This time I’m attached to all my feelings. This helps me understand why the body has such elaborate defense mechanisms in place, because we humans have soft skin and tender hearts for a reason. We are meant to connect with others and to commune with our innermost voices, and yet so many of us become so different as a result of the world we live in. It is not a place for soft skin and warm smiles.

This inevitable contradiction blinds me with pain on a daily basis.

I was working so hard to be able to have time to relax with family, and now again crisis takes precedence and our time off together becomes grieving. This is one of the worst parts. Thinking of getting back into the swing of work, or talking about it without crying.

Watching her is the worst part. Watching her wonder if she could have done something differently. Watching her wracked with sobs. It cuts through me. And now we wait to see if her body will expel is naturally or if we go for a D & C. Wondering if our donor and her are in some way incompatible and thousands of dollars are wasted. Wondering if we can’t have one at all. If we will. If I even think I could make it through this again.

This isn’t just one loss, and “it’s early”, and you have more frozen embryos. This is a year of waiting to exhale. Focusing, surrendering, sacrificing all our time to relax and play together for appointments, needles, injections, tests, poking and prodding and at the end all that hard work is supposed to pay off.

Except that isn’t how the world works. Also while I know I’m angry right now the word Yale means nothing to me. Perhaps I’ll write out experience in the next blog post because I need to get it documented anyway. Just because a couple of nurses are kind does not make it comprehensive or a good experience. After the bleeding we were told to go back on Monday for an ultrasound, they didn’t have an apt Monday (even though we were told). No communication that this was a necessary appointment, that if one twin was lost the other might follow.

Except we were elated by that tiny heartbeat on the screen. Ok good we have one. Not at one point did anyone even know what was happening in there. With our chart or file. No one has checked on her. Our Dr does not care, we have ten doctors.

We had to decide frozen or fresh transfer at 5 pm when I had clients all evening and then no one knew what was happening. A lady called my wife and said you’ll need to discuss this with your husband. This is a fertility clinic for crying out loud. They aren’t used to same sex couples? We had been attending a year and you don’t know us? It was so frustrating, but we let ourselves block it and so many other things out because eye on the prize.

A doctor who was seasoned and knew what they were doing would have warned that mono di twins might be different, the heart rate was in the lowest end of the spectrum. Yet we came home with an ultrasound picture and hope in our hearts. I think they could have known at that time if someone was paying attention. Yale is a fertility farm and we were cattle. I’m furious. I kept chalking up my frustrations to normal things on my end, but looking now at all the dropped balls.

We are going to take our 4 remaining babysicles somewhere else. Norwalk I think. I’m done. I wonder if they see too much extreme hope and extreme suffering and have had to desensitize themselves completely?

And before that we need a vacation. I’ve missed my wife for a year. We need to give some tlc to us and our relationship, and find a new normal. This dream is just too painful right now.

We have other things to focus on for awhile.

At least I get to know I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through something like this with. Rather than tearing at one another we are careful and kind. The other is sacred to us, and that is an irreplaceable gift in this world.

Back to square one…. again..

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We don’t love like the humans do….

This experience is leveling me to the ground. And whilst I am laying here I can see perfectly clearly using my lenses of hindsight.

I never noticed what a true miracle the three kids I have already created are. They are miracles. They made it through pregnancy, through my immature phases, through so many changes. They love hard still. They are wide open and warm. And I have hardly had the vision to notice this. I think if I had I would have spent day and night afraid I would lose them also.

My children have had to wait for me to come back to life from traumas so severe my only choice was to become numb and survive. The mechanics that make you that way do not lend to calm and gentle seeing presence.

“You cannot be everything you want to be before your time.” I have always wanted to be everything for them.

I love them more than I am able to convey in ways that feel like presence to them. Some people I’m guessing are able to choose to abandon any other thing to choose one. Their kids are their entire meaning. My kids are also, but if I didn’t make my own growth and healing a priority I would have only ever been able to love them at 50 percent capacity of my being.

They would have seen pain behind my eyes. You cannot hide things from children. You can lie to yourself that they don’t see, but children see the world much more clearly than us jaded adults do. They are much more capable of magical thinking and beliefs and therefore likely to be able to be happy, creative, and kind.

I know no matter how I look back I will always see the things I missed, some of them quite profound. I was there, but I wasn’t. If I couldn’t be fully present with myself, if I abandoned her too because that’s what I knew, of course I would be too afraid to accept their love and endless faith in me.

I am often envious of the partners I have given my children too out of desperation. Financial desperation, anxiety desperation, fear of myself as a mother desperation. It has often felt like I would be swallowed by my feelings. So I saw these happy people who were functioning and I wanted them to always have that. I could be more of what I was around. I was just trying to choose the right thing to model myself after.

So many times what looked warm and safe turned out to be much different underneath. An in tact family is not the only criteria for a good situation. It took me years to learn that. To see through the very alluring most attractive parts to me.

When you have subsisted on crumbs for so long, half a moldy cookie on a table looks like a Thanksgiving feast. And this is an expression of my path and pain. No person I have ever shared my heart with was a moldy cookie. The health of the relationship for various reasons (many due to my attachment fractured beginning), was the rotten part.

Some family of any kind is better than none right ?! So why wouldn’t I have stayed? Stayed for the kids, stayed for me. Perhaps many of the kinks would have worked themselves out over time, or perhaps I knew beyond my consciousness in some way what was best for us. This thinking seems correct based on where we are now.

But what have I caused up til this point?

And you see there it is. Taking responsibility for everyone and everything.

This is a product of trauma. The person is forced to become self-sufficient to a level beyond them, and this is a side effect. And later in life they suffer immensely trying to be an island, needing to be one, but also wanting to belong and connect. The obfuscation is immense. The dark wood feels seemingly endless.

Until that one person, or many along the way, see something in them they can’t yet. Hence the reason I am a counselor, it wasn’t a choice, it was written in the muddled beginning.

I needed people to see the good in me. I needed it so much that was the only factor it took for acceptance into the fold of our family. It fed me to be seen. I have been accused of feeding off of others to meet my needs. And I accepted that fate again as the bad guy, but finally I am able to see there is so much more to that story.

We watched Cheaper by The Dozen last night. A comfort. It was making me think of all the movies that have resonated with me over the years, made me get goosebumps, and how I would watch them over and over, and listen to songs over and over. People would tease me about my love for sappy movies or my behavior of repeatedly watching them. But these were me comforting my heart and shaping my dreams. Watching stories of people’s lives drafted in artist interpretation. Trying to find something to model after.

It would take me a long time to differentiate the romantic portrayal of movies and the grit it actually takes in real life to create a healthy and thriving family.

I wanted my story to be something more than it felt the first half of my life. I’ve fought tirelessly for that. And the fight has left me so exhausted in my soul, that often times regularly expected trials and tribulations of life now feel too much to bear. And it doesn’t take much invalidation, even and especially accidental, to wound me. Just think positive, well yes but that takes for granted every way that has wired me as far as my experiences. “You’re too introspective, you’re exhibiting frightening mental states like your mother.”

For me I just need to vent my feelings. To know they are there. To pinch myself to make sure I’m still capable of feeling. To lay my hand across my chest to make sure it still rises and falls.

The love of my life understands this about me. This line brought more tears to my eyes. There have been many the past two days.

I’m trying to accuse myself of wanting more than I already have right now. Worst case scenario-ing my character at every turn. It’s what I am best at. My very own valid feelings end up becoming some fatal flaw. And this is what I am working on in myself right now.

I have to make sure this life I have often rushed to create now takes into account the feelings of all participants and not just mine, I wasn’t so good at that in the past.

But I see I didn’t just force this onto my family, this is all of our dream now. We have always wanted another child to share our love with. I have known that from the time one of my best friends rented our downstairs and gave birth to her son in this home. As I often kidnapped him for snuggles and a bottle.

I have accused myself of wanting children for selfish reasons, and not because I have all that is required inside of me to properly nurture them. I will always be hyper vigilant that I may not. If you saw what I came from you would understand.

I have long wished I could just play some scenes from my childhood back on a tape so that the people knowing me could know. I’m torn between not wanting them to feel sorry for me, see me differently, and between desperately seeking understanding for the differences in me that feel like the separate me from the humans.

Thankfully I am loved by someone now who can see it without having me show them, and they love me harder for it. And that extra love that was missing has filled in all the gaping holes.

I am healing. I am still healing.

It’s no co-dependence, it’s not taking advantage, it’s not pathology, it’s not selfishness. It is healing. It’s taken this much. I could have turned out so many ways. But what I need for those I love to know the most is I’ve worked so hard on myself so I can belong with them. So I can feel my heartbeat near theirs, and not shrivel away for fear of damaging them with my damage.

We want to bring a child into the world to share all of what we have learned in our new story together. The kids want this baby too, and the transition from “babies” to baby is utterly painful right now. Seeing my wife’s pajama bottoms with the blood soaked through on the floor still because we were too exhausted yesterday to do anything about it is devastating. Not knowing whether the rest of the pregnancy will make it through this turbulence or not is gut wrenching. And that’s all ok. I still love my first kids that much too.

I still know it was early and blah blah. I feel things this much. So fucking what! This is who I am. It’s how I’ve been made, and I can’t help a thing about it. Except to do this (write) to cope, and to allow my story to be shared, whether or not anyone reads it.

So here I am wide awake with all my feelings always at the crack of dawn. In my morning watery womb of my own creation RE-birthing myself daily into the person I know I can be.

Here I am wondering with faith in one hand and science in the other, and what the universe has in store for our family.

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Tea cups….

I should never be trusted with soft and luxurious white hooded sweatshirts! They never stay without stains.

We lost a twin today. How does one even feel about that? I’m supposed to be happy we see one heartbeat right ? This has been such a roller coaster I’m just swirling around in a tea cup ride of emotions. The whole rest of the world is a blur. If the other one makes it to term will it feel like something is missing it’s whole life? I’m quite sure I’ll be told to think positively etc, but are real human feelings actually negative or are they just feelings? These are mine either way.

I am waiting to decide how to feel.

And we are also waiting to see if the rest of the pregnancy is ok. We did see a tiny heartbeat today. A glimmer. My intelligent mind fears the fact that if the genes are identical and one didn’t make it, that logically the pregnancy is in trouble.

And my heart hopes.

But what this blog post is really about is the first thought that plagues me as we haven’t been able to get pregnant for so long and now this.

This is unnatural, it’s a sin, and we are being punished. It’s against God. We are two women we shouldn’t be having a baby.

I know I don’t hold these beliefs and if there is a God, ours loves us too. I know that, but I have to fight so hard to feel that way.

I’ve forced myself to treat myself as normal as anyone else. To bravely announce proudly everywhere I go I have a wife. One day I just got tired enough of feeling like a bad person in so many ways for being gay. For breaking up a family, for hurting my kids, and their dad and his family.

Eventually all that responsibility just got too heavy for one person to hold.

I cracked open into fearless courage. It became necessary. It was a natural evolution to how deeply I harmed myself with negative thoughts about myself for so long. I tried to beat the gay out of myself. I would have done anything. I tried everything.

I think I’ve been in denial. I’ve built such a strong outward presentation for myself, that I’ve ignored the sting of my minority status.

I don’t speak to my mother. Guilt. I’ve been divorced twice. Guilt. I’ve put my feelings and needs before my children’s at times. Guilt. I can make deep connections but almost all of my early ones are severed. Guilt. I’m fucking gay. Guilt. I have a million thoughts. Guilt. I talk a lot. I am big and enthusiastic and open.

More Guilt.

I am guilty of being in denial.

I am denying the fact that if just in one aspect life could feel any easier for me for one second. If my family could walk down the street and have people look at us like a thing of stability and beauty, like the majority of families are already guaranteed. Instead of wondering who will whisper or become nervous around us.

I forced myself long ago to be so out and so proud, that I’ve been hiding in my comfortable life not advocating for those who aren’t as lucky yet.

I shouldn’t have to work at feeling normal should I?

So because we are gluttons for punishment we ate food we didn’t taste, shed tears we didn’t feel, and went and saw Boy Erased. It was intensely emotional.

After the movie I wonder why I don’t specialize in LGBT clients. I mean I never wanted to be pigeon holed to one population, but now I’m wondering if I would have just felt like a fraud. How can I help someone with something I still haven’t figured out.

Why is my first thought of us not being able to get pregnant and the potential of losing this one that it’s not the way things are supposed to be.

Why am I stuck with a belief in my head that’s not my own?

He’s the Boy Erased, and I’m the Girl in your Face…..

and the tea cup spins.

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A Very Thankful Thanksgiving….

As all these big feelings wash over me (they used to crash, now they cascade), I can tell it’s time to bring my heart to the blog and weave.

I am bursting at the seams with gratitude this Thanksgiving. Holidays as a rule are difficult for me, and that’s an understatement. I am always a guest in someone else’s Family Stone Family, the one whispered about when I leave the room. Thankfully nothing like Sara Jessica Parker in the actual movie. I was the Claire Danes, but still….

I was always liked that was never the problem. The problem was I chose my partner for the kids and for safety and love. I was at such a deficit. And don’t get me wrong all the people I’ve shared my time with are special and I learned so much from them. I really have no horror stories in my love life. Sometimes however I fear I became theirs. A taste of love and belonging and then yanked away. I experienced those losses too though, whether they were my decision or not. Another family, another warm heart beat pulled away, excruciating.

They weren’t a fit because their hearts were as unsure as mine if we could pull the whole thing off. I wonder at times if I had more faith in life and myself if it would have been different. But then how could it be when I am this happy now, and they are in their journeys towards happiness as well.

I figure those who take the actual time to read through this whole thing deserve to know our IVF has worked. We are 5 weeks today I believe. And once we hit 2000 HCG (we are at 1100), blood level then we will begin ultrasounds. We won’t make any official announcements until it progresses a bit further, but that whole thing is so superstitious and sort of the opposite of faith. I hate the whole privacy idea in a way. Sure it might be exhausting to share bad news with your loved ones, but you will need them right ?!

We need each other, all of us beautiful fragile human beings. Why isn’t that allowed.

We are so fucking careful and so private. I’ve never liked that, but since my life isn’t just me anymore I have to walk that line a bit more carefully. I do not want to live scared of anything ever again. I’ve spent most of my life anxious. Anxious I won’t be loved or even liked for that matter, and often I wasn’t. Anxious I wasn’t enough. Anxious I wasn’t smart like other people. Anxious about my health. Anxious about how everyone around me feels, if I have somehow hurt or bothered them. Anxious about money. Anxious at any minute something terrible could happen. And it always could.

On fucking eggshells most of my life. Profound exhaustion. And now I’m stepping out into the light and loving myself enough to stop stressing my body and my heart with these anxieties. I am practicing enough self love that when someone else doesn’t see me how I’d like to be seen I can weather that storm.

Rian just popped in the bathroom and said, “you should watch Courtney butter this turkey, it’s making me uncomfortable” bwhahahahhaah! I told her to butter that bird up with love and she’s doing just that. There is actually a video, but I’m not allowed to post it 😉 sorry guys!!

My latest self-inflicted therapy is of the exposure variety. I am going to get over my profound nervousness of if people like me or not, by exposing myself to the highest possible annoyance. Arriving on their doorstep to tell them about how solar can save them money and the environment.

Last night a lady told her adorable children who came to the door to tell me to get away. The house was so cool too and I was warm and friendly. Scolded like a bad dog, and instead of reacting I simply smiled and thought of a time I would have done the same because I was overwhelmed, and thought I needed to protect myself from someone trying to take advantage of me. So I get it lady. You keep paying your giant electric bill and teaching your kids to be rude. Ok so I’m as enlightened as I can be, but still human 😉

But these interactions don’t up end my world anymore, reaffirming a long held belief that I’m bad, wrong, and unworthy. I’m learning to let them roll off my back, that they have nothing to do with me.

And sure enough I landed a nice couple with a giant electric bill, amazing sun on their roof, and it warmed me right up. They also had a 6 month old baby who adored me and laughed the cutest and it made me so excited to be a mom again soon enough !!

“There will always be light and dark in life, and often we never know which we will find behind the door we knock. We must knock anyway, even if it’s mostly dark, because eventually you’ll land the right door, and things can change in an instant.”

The dark is always more seductive, it gives us permission to blame and to throw our hands in the air. We had a deep rejection this holiday, and I’m surprised to find myself watching this one from the outside. It’s been so long since it felt like my sexuality was a shameful thing. I should say since someone else shared they thought our sexuality was a shameful thing. It cuts like a knife to the heart, we will feel the sting and the loss today.

But it will never be as bad as the pain of living a life inauthentic. I always know that truth. Sad, scared, and unhappy people will always spread those feelings, the best we can do is to love them anyway. From a distance. I’m proud we won’t let this be a dark cloud on our happy time. It hurts, but it won’t block out our sun. See what I did there 😉

I’ve created my own solar panels for how I receive energy in my life, and it’s clean energy. I’ve chosen the kind of want to focus on and absorb and learning to protect myself from pollution.

This Thanksgiving is the first one where I feel like I belong. I am about to be 38 years old. It seems like that story would be a sad one, but I assure you it is anything but.

I belong here and am not a guest. I am grateful beyond measure for my kids who believe in a mother who has made herself from scratch. I am grateful they let me make mistakes and love me anyway. I am grateful for my beautiful wife who is the glue of this whole operation. I always thought I had to be the glue and fell into resentment at times, but it turns out she is. She is the constant warmth that keeps me glowing. She made this house a home in so many ways.

I am in radical gratitude this year!!!

My life gets better and better with time. Thank you to all who follow my journey. You are definitely a dedicated reader, and you are part of me being able to believe I am not too much.

A toast to family, red wine, and turkey basters to all of you 😉

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Keep going…. into the fire…

I woke up this morning feeling closer to the ground I want to stand on with my ex-husband. This is what happens when you dig into the wound. When you hunt around for the splinters even as you wince and wonder if you just let the skin grow over it they won’t just stay mildly uncomfortable forever, but at least you won’t have to suffer this intensely.

He is not a threat, these feelings that rise are the threat. The threat here is the pain from still wanting to be seen favorably by him. I can still see his face that day he asked me to marry him. I can still picture the day we held our son for the first time. He knew a little girl me, that no one else in my life now knows anymore. He has pieces of my story no one else ever will. And the tears come. My divorce still hurts. And it isn’t supposed to right ?! I’m gay, and I’ve moved forward. But I can’t ever get back those firsts with that man, they are embedded in my story forever. And I choose whether they are splinters, or protective layers I honor because they are part of me. I don’t want them to be splinters anymore. He wasn’t a mistake, and I wasn’t either, and our children are amazing. We still made them, no matter how much I move forward that’s still a truth.

I still want to be seen favorably as we all long for. I want to be seen for my best parts, as we all do, but I think lacking a core family perhaps makes this a more desperate need in me. I wanted to move forward and keep my home base. Was this really so wrong ? If you had seen my whole life would you really fault me for this? And he saw it as no one else did, and has blocked those parts, because to continue to see me favorably only prevents him from moving forward.

Human beings have to tell a story they can live with to be able to move forward. Otherwise it’s nearly unbearable, especially for the deeply feeling. A gift from my life is that I always chose good people. I had seen so many bad, that this was a priority. So each time I held on tightly and then realized I still had places I needed to go, I internalized all that responsibility for the hurt. I was the bad guy I never wanted to be, rather than someone who wanted a safe home base and to also explore the world. The problem was my only model for a safe home base was in romantic partnership. I had my wires crossed. How else was I supposed to obtain that intense closeness I always yearned for. I wanted stability, but I couldn’t be stable.

That is the code I cracked for this relationship. Through being a counselor I heal right along with my clients. I found a self that was safe in herself, finally, what I had been desperately seeking. Along my way here people thought it was them I was wanting and needing. That must have felt intoxicating. To be so needed by another. Of course I was charming, that always was my true self, but I couldn’t maintain it if it wasn’t real. If it was a self I was trying on, but couldn’t keep. Because I would get scared and lost again, and then move quickly forward leaving my feelings, and my ex partners to wonder what happened,

Except now I could explain this whole thing, and have tried, but by now their own work keeps them needing a boundary against me, and what I have to learn is that we did have meaningful time, that wasn’t just erased by the ending. The whole story isn’t ruined by the ending. I truly believe that.

Can’t they forgive me for what I didn’t know then? Didn’t they know me well enough to see through clear lenses after?

I still love him, that is the problem. I wouldn’t get so hurt if I didn’t. Hate and love are from the same point of origin, they are both love. You have to love someone to hate them.

Not in the way both of us had hoped when we created new lives together. He stays in his feelings. I had to disconnect from mine enough to move forward. Doesn’t mean I don’t have them, doesn’t mean his way is better.

I’ve tried to write him long letters explaining my growth. Each is received first as too long, that is always pointed out. You’re too much Christina, because that’s not a trigger. Because that’s not THE trigger. And then regardless of the truth I have laid out on the page it is ignored.

True feelings and vulnerability were my weapon of choice against so many confusing realities. If I shout my truth out loud I’ll have to live up to it. I’ll force myself to not comfort at the expense of anyone around me. Very few of us are always our best selves are we ?! Did I somehow miss this mark other people are capable of? Or am I just more honest about it?

The truth is I had such a deficit of comfort that the first half of my life was spent almost solely in that pursuit. I picture myself for a long time, and when I got diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease after fighting so hard for a better life it felt like a death sentence. It cost me a marriage and a partnership again, the dark place I ended up in.

And again all along the way were people shaming me for seeking comfort. My own father sizing me up as “daughter your Facebook posts reflect some frightening mental states lately, not unlike your mother .” If he wasn’t there for much of the journey, completely inexplicably, then I wasn’t going to allow him to add insult to abandonment. Our journey knowing one another ended there, again. Abandoned again, after the warmth of hope had crept in. This has wandered to another blog post.

My conclusion: I won’t get as triggered if I don’t seek, expect, hope, crave, beg for understanding from those who don’t have it to give. For they are at another place in their journey. Perhaps where I was long ago, just needing comfort. He is still hurting and I would persecute him for what? Being mad at me?!

Hate is just love in another costume.

To be continued …..witness my pain and my process, weaving in and out of truth and understanding, sitting with my feelings. I’m not going anywhere this time. As my own parent I won’t abandon me when I’m not my best self. I am my person.

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Frozen in time… just like our donor Sperm

What does an excessively driven/determined person do at a 14 day post intrauterine insemination negative pregnancy test ? Ha say that five times fast.

Did I mention this was the third round overall? Did I mention before we could start it was awaiting the thyroid level each month? I guess we have been at this longer than I realized.

She obsesses of course. Finding every bit of tangible evidence that we still could be pregnant. Some people don’t get their positive until day 18 or so, but that’s probably not with for sure predicting of ovulation like we have with IUI. The clinic said test today and if negative to stop progesterone. Go to Jail, do not pass GO, do not collect $200, you are failing at the game of life. No cute little blue or pink figures to stick gleefully in your car.

And she writes to cope of course.

Except she can barely write because she can barely focus on anything else. Thankfully as a Clinician she is drawn out of her own mind naturally during session and at least has that break.

Ok that’s enough third person. Third, third, third…. no charm here, not today. Stay positive they say. The stork is on the way.

I’m starting to get hard on myself. Christina are you always going to find something to be unhappy about? Three teenagers, two dogs, a career you adore, and healthy and happy love. Am I allowed even to want more? Or to have the emotions I do right now? Therapist says of course you are. Human says don’t you dare, it will hurt too much. You’ll get too caught up in them, and then what.

Don’t get down because stress inhibits pregnancy, don’t drink coffee, don’t have processed sugar, don’t exercise too hard….. Make sure you sleep enough, eat healthy… and my head spins. Hyper focus and it’ll be more likely.

Superstitions abound.

Does this mean we are meant to foster and adopt? Of course I know my wife wants to grow her own baby in her belly. It tears at me when the emotions finally hit and she bursts into tears. I fool myself into thinking I’m the strong one in this scenario. Just because I can hold my emotions hostage with much more command, an ability I never asked for.

I recall being witness to another’s journey of this variety and my well meaning and with little understanding advice at that time. I remember feeling a tad critical of their sharing with me that they couldn’t be around happy pregnant women. And here I am not even able to look at my FB feed because there are just fucking babies everywhere. It hurts doesn’t it? Oops.

It’s only three rounds I try to tell myself. I try for perspective seeing people have to try for years. But we are using science and spending a hell of a lot of money. Guilt. Another rub of not being how “God intended” of course. I don’t even ascribe to that belief and yet by now it attempts to leak in.

Can I ever just be still and happy? Couldn’t we have just honeymooned ? Be enjoying our love? Why do I drive so hard? Why is this so important when often it feels hard to connect with the children I’ve got. Why are we bringing a child into a world like this? Only to struggle and await the many impending disasters? I’m already overwhelmed at the drop of a hat. What am I doing ? And is it the negative result that makes me feel this way? That must be the sadness, frustration, and pain talking.

Because in clearer moments I know exactly my heart and what it wants and deserves. Why do we get so nasty with ourselves, so unfair?

I’ve been sick the past couple of days, and I know that isn’t helping. Sky high irritability, dizziness, and a variety of uncomfortable symptoms. I’m too driven even to be sick. It is just who I am. Do I have to make myself wrong for everything?

Be still Christina. Stay…..

Broken hearts heal…. and you will get your baby. Be patient….. I’ve never been patient. Does this mean this is my fault, and I’ve brought this upon us? Will I always function at a frenzied pace? Is this a fault?

Life brings you to your knees so you are forced to find faith in something. Faith in myself is always the lesson needed.

Stay…..

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Choose love ❤️

A short but important piece I wrote on self-love this morning.

When I looked in the mirror this morning, actually when my phone turned on me unexpectedly, like a cruel mistress and I saw myself:

First I saw all the imperfections, the sun spots, the lines, the puffiness, the pale, and my tired looking eyes. How much weight I have gained in my face.

The very next thing I did is think about how loved I am by my family, my friends, and my clients as well. Then I thought you can’t be mean to that person who is loved so well.

I think how much my people love me, and that I must keep how I feel about myself in that equation. If I don’t I would isolate, be irritable, and mean when and in ways I don’t want to be, I would push others away if I felt unworthy.

That’s how it works folks. And then they would miss me, worry about me, and I would unintentionally take more than I give. Loving ourselves isn’t selfish, in fact it’s the most unselfish act we can give, because it isn’t easy. It is in fact often the hardest thing.

This is something that needs to be taught in our homes and our schools. I just read a psychology today article about how we don’t see ourselves “accurately” anyway. Our perceptions are shaped by so many social factors. So when given the choice: why not always choose love. It certainly feels better than any other choice, and that’s the point.

💜

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Day One of My Eighth Life

Day one…. again

We have 17 follicles. Tears are gently falling into the Raisin Bran I am eating out of a mug. It’s so surreal. This moment. This is life number 8. In this life I am loved with every bit of what I didn’t have in the previous ones.

In this life I am a good mother not just practically, but emotionally. A strong partner and a financial provider. I blink twice and pinch myself once.

It’s still true.

My teenagers could feel angry or resentful about this. Nervous they will lose the number one spot in my heart. Nervous they never had it. Because I went back and got my own child, now I’ve scooped them up too. So they are so excited for a baby sibling.

I am 37 years old and going to be a new mother again.

On this other side of things how much of an oak will I be? I’m figuring out at this stage of knowing myself my limits begin to get real when someone I love suffers. In the words of the great Maya Angelou, “You have to have courage to love somebody. Because you risk everything. Everything.”

Courage is something I’ve never been in short supply of, but I’ve also never had so much to lose. I’m in that strange in between where I’m fully embracing it, but also can’t help “the rug will be pulled out mentality.” It’s fainter now, but the body remembers even after the mind has healed.

My body regularly reminds me I’m a survivor.

The only thing I may have never doubted is my strength. Now I must wonder about that? I didn’t know I could love a family so much that if a member of them suffers and I have to watch; shards of glass throughout my whole body. Don’t move it will hurt.

Being strong before was my only choice. Now that I’m thawed out what will happen when we face a trial? I’m scared. You get scared when you’re soft. When you’ve aligned all your fragments, you can get scared. They never told me this would happen. This is a beautiful scared. The other was a terrible scared.

We are having a baby. Today is day one of my 8th life within 1. I am a good mother. I will be a good mother.

This much love might just be the scariest thing I have ever faced….

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They need us to rise…

Ask people what they need and how we can love them better!

I am having an inspired morning and want to share a couple of things. A realization I had just this morning is that we need to learn how to love one another beyond loving in just the ways we know how. What I knew about love for a long time left me not behaving very well. I didn’t create space or have room to let love grow. I had deep and crushing insecurities and at the drop of a hat (or more appropriately the pull of a trigger), they would explode like shrapnel tearing apart my relationships and then my life. I would have to rebuild again, and I did this under the weight of crushing shame. I had friends even stop hanging out with me, because I had a new partner, they didn’t like that change. Did they think I did? Did they think that my relationships didn’t work because I didn’t desperately want them to? We need to stop shaming others people. We need to learn how, and when, and why we do this so we can stop.

I had to learn my way out of this space and way of existing, and the cost of that learning has not been cheap. I’ve lived bathed in anxiety. I have a chronic illness now, whether you say it’s genetics or extreme stress most of my life has been exhausting. Lots caused by my thinking as much as my circumstances. This is why we need to be educated on these matters, and the time and encouragement to fully explore our own thoughts and minds without being called selfish, or crazy, or somehow wrong! Without being told how to live and love based on one perspective.

Parents tell their children how to live all the time, and don’t realize they are showing them by modeling, not with their words. We are sometimes accidentally angry with our children for not being who we want them to be, even when they may be being courageous. We can accidentally crush their tiny spirits with all of our fear of failure as parents, and we need to be aware of this.

It isn’t just natural knowing how to live we need to be taught, and these days we are taught by the extreme opposite of thinking about who we are and what we want of life and how we want to be loved, and if we are loving others well. These days our teachers are YouTube videos and scrolling Instagram, and my kids are left alone on those platforms as well, while I’m busy. Now I’ve given out some great recommendations to clients and friends about fantastic YouTube videos, it isn’t all bad. But when kids are just left to learn from whatever they come across with little guidance or presence because it has been replaced, then we are heading to a scary place.

Do you know that our children are scared to death right now? They are in my office all the time. All they hear about is that the sea is rising, and that you can be shot while in class, and that they won’t have any financial future. Where is the hope? We have to teach them how they can rise to any occasion, because it’s what humanity is famous for. Someone will rise and they will lead, and it can’t all be bad. Our children are stressed, and anxious, and depressed, and lonely. They need us to rise. THEY NEED US TO RISE.

This means we are the teachers of compassion, empathy, understanding, and hope. The teachers of how small changes can make a difference, rather than doing nothing because of overwhelm. This has been one of my biggest battles. As an HSP I feel so much I become crushed under the weight, leading to my main focus being how to comfort myself. I’ve had to learn my way out of this cycle. We need to make the change from bogged down hopeLESS to hopeFULL.

Our children watch every action we make and every word we say. So spend some time thinking what they are seeing you do, because ultimately that is the cycle they will repeat until they resolve their personal tasks. We can make that an easier or a more difficult process for them. The number one thing they want is to see you interested in who they are as a person, not who you wish they would be. We must see our children, and our lovers, and our friends and neighbors, and the stranger on the corner through generous eyes.

We must do this whether or not it is deserved in a moment. We must do this because of who we are, and not because of any inauthentic reason. Because a person who is believed in and encouraged is a thousand times more likely to be successful at becoming who they are.

This does not mean we allow ourselves to be treated badly by subjecting ourselves to poor treatment. That isn’t what I’m suggesting. Always exercise and be aware of your personal boundaries, that is loving of self. When you’re confident in your boundaries it becomes easier to love with your whole self and heart, that healing variety of love, because you’ll trust in your ability to know where your energy is productive and where it isn’t.

Our children need us people… WE MUST RISE. We must educate and love harder and with more of a depth to our understanding. So kids have permission to understand themselves and to grow. So kids have permission to expand, and we aren’t unintentionally asking them to shrink to fit our expectations.

Even good intentions must be examined, because many things we do are not conscious.

 

❤️❤️❤️