One of the life lessons that I've always struggled with is that life isn't fair. Since I was a young (and rather whiny) child, I've been unable to keep myself from whinging "but it SHOULD be!" I drove my parents crazy by starting to cry whenever I saw e.g., a panhandler, because I thought that they should somehow save the day. I still struggle with the idea that I should somehow accept that sometimes life sucks, and that, well, that's life. Because it SHOULDN'T suck. Right?
It wasn't until I discovered my own infertility that I realized that not only is life not fair, but that many people, far from having compassion for people in pain, actually despise them. Having a rather Pollyanna-ish view of humanity (no, really, I do!)I tell myself that this is just a protective mechanism. To look at someone in pain and to attempt to truly appreciate what they are going through is to open yourself up to a world of hurt. It's easier to just slam your heart shut, and think of a thousand reasons that it's somehow the person's own fault (and therefore, that it could never happen to you).
When you're infertile, you really can't win. If you're under 35, then you obviously bought it on yourself by not having the good sense to "just relax", you uptight bitch. Or just maybe you secretly hate children. Or maybe you don't want it badly enough (just ask J-Lo!) If you're over 35, then you were selfish and waited too long, squandering your fertility while you held out for Mr. Right, or put your career first, or did something else that was ridiculously self-indulgent (because after all, wanting your child to have a loving father and a roof over his or her head is pretty unreasonable). If you are diagnosed with an actual medical problem, then obviously you must have contracted it during your former (or current) career as a filthy slut.
If you have somehow brought this bad karma on yourself, then the first thing that you must do is accept your fate. Obviously you should "just adopt". There are so many children out there that need a home. No wait, if you do that, then you are kidnapping a child from his birth parents (if it's a domestic adoption), and from her home and culture (if it's an international adoption), causing the child a "primal wound" that will never heal. How selfish can you be?
Obviously you should seek treatment. Insurance doesn't cover it? Well why should I pay for your problems? Look, do you want a child or not? If you're not willing to remortgage your house, sell your car, and live in a cardboard box, then do you really expect me to feel sorry for you? Really, if you can't afford to spend $50,000 on treatments, how do you expect to support a child?
What? You're doing IVF? But it's so unnatural. Who are you to "play god" like that? Are you really so in love with your own genes that you can't open up your home to one of the millions of children who are just begging to be adopted? You must be really "desperate" to spend tens of thousands of dollars to try to have your own child. Why can't you just give that money to help poor women raise THEIR children?
Considering donor gametes? Listen, buster, buying children is wrong. It is unconscionable to deprive a child of her connection with her genetic parents. You sick bastard.
NOT considering donor gametes? What is the matter with you? Are you so narcissistic that you can't love someone that doesn't look like you?
Obviously it just wasn't meant to be. You should live child free. Never mind that this means that the very thought breaks your heart. Not everyone is meant to be a parent.
Choosing child-free living? See, I KNEW you were too selfish to be a parent. You deserve your infertility.
Conceive without intervention after many years of trying? See, I TOLD you you were just being a drama queen.
Conceive with help? Boy are you lucky. Don't you dare even think about whining if you have trouble conceiving a second. Don't you know that thousands of women would give anything to be in your position?
If you've read this far, then you're probably wondering where on earth this all came from. Aren't I supposed to be off on a cloud somewhere relishing every moment with my beautiful healthy girl? Well, for the most part I am. I am happier now than I have ever been in my whole life. Eggbert is delicious (and currently asleep, hooray!)I love being a mama. My dream has come true. However, having come out the other side doesn't seem to have allowed me to just shake off all of the bad feelings. Not so much for me (although I'm starting to really struggle with the question of whether and how to try for #2, but that's another topic for another day), but for all of the other couples still dealing with primary infertility. I know that chances are that medical science will never get to the point at which no couple has to deal with this problem. To some extent I can accept that (although I hate it). Life isn't fair and all. However, every time I read yet another hateful article in which infertile couples are pilloried for whatever they've done to try to deal with their situation, the old bitterness comes rushing back. We as a society may not be able to get rid of infertility, but why on earth can't we at least lose the attitude?
(I thought about posting links to articles or comments that put forth every single ignorant opinion depicted above, but even looking at that stuff makes me feel horrible, so I don't want to inflict it on anyone else.)
On a sweeter note:
Do you remember my friend H, who lost her twins at 19/20 weeks last year, and had been on bed rest since week 9 of her next pregnancy (also with twins)? She made it to 34 weeks, and delivered two beautiful healthy girls! They are now home. Sleepless and loving it.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Night and day
I recently arrived back in Seoul after a ten-day trip (during which my internet access was limited--hence the lack of new posts) overseas. It was a great trip, but it's good to be home.
Seoul is more and more feeling like home, which is kind of ironic, since it has become clearer and clearer lately that we won't be staying too much longer. I was originally hired with a verbal agreement that I would be employed for three years, and a one-year contract. The contract is written so I have the option to quit whenever I want, though, which is nice. We are now a year and a half into our stay, and while there has been talk about making my position permanent, it has become clear that this would not be the best decision for my family. While I have grown quite fond of living here, Mystery is having a very hard time. He hasn't made any friends outside of our "couple" friends, who are really my friends and their mates, doesn't speak the language, so he feels really socially isolated. He also really misses living in the US. This is also not a great place to send a foreign kid to school. She would never be accepted socially in a public school, and I really don't want to send her to international school (too expensive and isolating). Given that none of these things are likely to change, we are starting to talk about our exit strategy.
Realizing that my time here is limited has made me see the city with new eyes. I recently realized that while Korea is not a particularly nice place to be pregnant (or to shop for baby things), it is a wonderful place to be the mother of a young baby. Not only did I get a government-mandated three-month paid maternity leave even though I am foreign and a newcomer, but people have bent over backward to make having a baby a pleasant experience. I don't mean that my coworkers had a nice shower for me. They did, but that's something that would happen anywhere. What wouldn't happen just anywhere is the way that people go CRAZY for Eggbert whenever I take her out in public. It isn't just the grandmother types and little girls that you sort of expect to pay attention to babies. Young men, old men, teenagers, other kids, as well as mothers and grandmothers stop to stare and admire her. I can't go anywhere without a chorus of "cute", "beautiful", "look, a BABY!" following me. While I don't normally like being the center of attention, when it's directed at my beloved baby, I bask in it. It makes me feel like she is embraced by the community, and is safe and loved. People are also MUCH more considerate of her needs than they ever were when she was still in utero. I get jostled a lot less, and routinely get offered seats on the subway (ironic, because she's really light, so standing isn't a problem now, but I sure could have used those seats when I was 8.5 months pregnant and had ankles the size of tree trunks). I don't think it's just because she's foreign, although curiosity may be a factor. Babies are just so rare here that people seem to appreciate the fact that they are truly special and miraculous creatures.
In sharp contrast, I ran into an American acquaintance the other day (a youngish man) who hadn't yet met Eggbert. She was in the baby bjorn, so he couldn't look at me without seeing her, yet throughout our entire 15-minute conversation, he never once asked about here, commented on her, or even looked at her, even when a gaggle of Korean kids stopped to look at her and squeal in glee. It was a pretty amazing display of disinterest. I think that if I hadn't been so amused, I might have been offended.
Seoul is more and more feeling like home, which is kind of ironic, since it has become clearer and clearer lately that we won't be staying too much longer. I was originally hired with a verbal agreement that I would be employed for three years, and a one-year contract. The contract is written so I have the option to quit whenever I want, though, which is nice. We are now a year and a half into our stay, and while there has been talk about making my position permanent, it has become clear that this would not be the best decision for my family. While I have grown quite fond of living here, Mystery is having a very hard time. He hasn't made any friends outside of our "couple" friends, who are really my friends and their mates, doesn't speak the language, so he feels really socially isolated. He also really misses living in the US. This is also not a great place to send a foreign kid to school. She would never be accepted socially in a public school, and I really don't want to send her to international school (too expensive and isolating). Given that none of these things are likely to change, we are starting to talk about our exit strategy.
Realizing that my time here is limited has made me see the city with new eyes. I recently realized that while Korea is not a particularly nice place to be pregnant (or to shop for baby things), it is a wonderful place to be the mother of a young baby. Not only did I get a government-mandated three-month paid maternity leave even though I am foreign and a newcomer, but people have bent over backward to make having a baby a pleasant experience. I don't mean that my coworkers had a nice shower for me. They did, but that's something that would happen anywhere. What wouldn't happen just anywhere is the way that people go CRAZY for Eggbert whenever I take her out in public. It isn't just the grandmother types and little girls that you sort of expect to pay attention to babies. Young men, old men, teenagers, other kids, as well as mothers and grandmothers stop to stare and admire her. I can't go anywhere without a chorus of "cute", "beautiful", "look, a BABY!" following me. While I don't normally like being the center of attention, when it's directed at my beloved baby, I bask in it. It makes me feel like she is embraced by the community, and is safe and loved. People are also MUCH more considerate of her needs than they ever were when she was still in utero. I get jostled a lot less, and routinely get offered seats on the subway (ironic, because she's really light, so standing isn't a problem now, but I sure could have used those seats when I was 8.5 months pregnant and had ankles the size of tree trunks). I don't think it's just because she's foreign, although curiosity may be a factor. Babies are just so rare here that people seem to appreciate the fact that they are truly special and miraculous creatures.
In sharp contrast, I ran into an American acquaintance the other day (a youngish man) who hadn't yet met Eggbert. She was in the baby bjorn, so he couldn't look at me without seeing her, yet throughout our entire 15-minute conversation, he never once asked about here, commented on her, or even looked at her, even when a gaggle of Korean kids stopped to look at her and squeal in glee. It was a pretty amazing display of disinterest. I think that if I hadn't been so amused, I might have been offended.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
All better
Well, that was fun while it lasted, but the Great Boob Crisis of February seems to be over. Whew! I don't know what it was, but after much massaging, heating, and (unbelievably painful) breastfeeding, the lump is gone, and most of the soreness has dissipated.
The lovely M-B asked how I got my supply up on the left. I'm not really sure what actually worked, but what I did was:
a) ALWAYS fed Eggbert on the left first. Sometimes I just let her finish on the left (she was usually happy that way, which is why I was always suspicious that it was a pumping problem, rather than just a supply problem), and sometimes I switched her in mid-feed.
b) When pumping, if I needed e.g. five oz, I didn't just pump until I had 5 oz (which invariably resulted in 4 from the right and 1 from the left), but rather pumped until I had half from the right (or a little over half, in the beginning), and then stopped pumping on the right and just continued on the left until I got the other half. My left is MUCH slower in production, so pumping for the same time on both sides meant that my right was doing all of the work. If I didn't get enough from the left in a reasonable period of time, I stopped, but then pumped again in a half-hour or so until I had enough.
c) Breast compressions on the left both while feeding and pumping (thank you Hadjare for this suggestion). I was absolutely amazed at the difference that this made while pumping. I often got an extra ounce or ounce and a half after I thought that the left had completely given up.
After a few days of this strategy (which was kind of a PITA, and probably wouldn't have been possible if I was working full-time), the left started producing WAY more. It was kind of amazing, actually.
So, I'm going to stop obsessing about my boobs and move on to something else now. Thanks for listening.
The lovely M-B asked how I got my supply up on the left. I'm not really sure what actually worked, but what I did was:
a) ALWAYS fed Eggbert on the left first. Sometimes I just let her finish on the left (she was usually happy that way, which is why I was always suspicious that it was a pumping problem, rather than just a supply problem), and sometimes I switched her in mid-feed.
b) When pumping, if I needed e.g. five oz, I didn't just pump until I had 5 oz (which invariably resulted in 4 from the right and 1 from the left), but rather pumped until I had half from the right (or a little over half, in the beginning), and then stopped pumping on the right and just continued on the left until I got the other half. My left is MUCH slower in production, so pumping for the same time on both sides meant that my right was doing all of the work. If I didn't get enough from the left in a reasonable period of time, I stopped, but then pumped again in a half-hour or so until I had enough.
c) Breast compressions on the left both while feeding and pumping (thank you Hadjare for this suggestion). I was absolutely amazed at the difference that this made while pumping. I often got an extra ounce or ounce and a half after I thought that the left had completely given up.
After a few days of this strategy (which was kind of a PITA, and probably wouldn't have been possible if I was working full-time), the left started producing WAY more. It was kind of amazing, actually.
So, I'm going to stop obsessing about my boobs and move on to something else now. Thanks for listening.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
More boob issues
I had big plans to write a contemplative post about what it means to be infertile with a child, but I'm having a little crisis, so we've interrupted our normal programming for this bulletin:
My boob hurts. I don't mean that it's a little sore. It REALLY hurts. It hurts all of the time, but when Eggbert nurses, it feels like I'm being stabbed. There's also a big hard painful lump near the base of the breast. However, I don't have a fever or redness, so I don't think it's mastitis. I have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday, but that seems like a very long time from now. Any thoughts? Tips? Sympathy?
This is the boob that was underproducing. The funny thing is that after an unhealthy level of attention and cosseting, it had started producing like a champ. Yesterday it yielded 4.5 oz pumping, which was a new record. I do think it was partly just a pumping issue (it still takes a lot longer to pump on that side), but the supply is clearly up too, since the letdown has gotten a lot stronger. Could this pain be related to its new productivity?
My boob hurts. I don't mean that it's a little sore. It REALLY hurts. It hurts all of the time, but when Eggbert nurses, it feels like I'm being stabbed. There's also a big hard painful lump near the base of the breast. However, I don't have a fever or redness, so I don't think it's mastitis. I have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday, but that seems like a very long time from now. Any thoughts? Tips? Sympathy?
This is the boob that was underproducing. The funny thing is that after an unhealthy level of attention and cosseting, it had started producing like a champ. Yesterday it yielded 4.5 oz pumping, which was a new record. I do think it was partly just a pumping issue (it still takes a lot longer to pump on that side), but the supply is clearly up too, since the letdown has gotten a lot stronger. Could this pain be related to its new productivity?
Thursday, February 7, 2008
The twins--not identical after all
Someone in my household is suffering from a severe case of nip*ple confusion. It's not Eggbert. She has a very clear philosophy regarding nip*ples, which can be summed up as "Gimme NOW!" Silicone or skin, it doesn't matter. Every nip*ple is a wanted nipple. I feel rather guilty about what an easy time we've had of the whole breast/bottle issue, and give 100% of the credit to Eggbert's voracious appetite. She's small, people, but she eats like a big girl.
I'm not actually sure if I'm the one suffering from confusion, or if my nip*ples themselves are confused. I think everyone would have been 100% happy if I were a stay-at-home mom. However, I have started back to work part-time (remember, the Egg has a stay-at-home dad, so somebody's got to bring home the bacon) two weeks ago, which has given the pump a central role in my daily routine. I've managed not to have to pump at work yet, but that means that I have to pump first thing in the morning, and then again right when I get home from work. Eggbert usually can manage with just one 4 oz bottle during the four-hour period that I'm at the office, but occasionally has two, so we have to have two ready, just in case. Anyway, every morning, when I stagger out of bed, place a milk-drunk Eggbert (who has been feeding off and on for the last hour or so) in her crib (while Eggbert has no interest whatsoever in sleeping in her crib at night, she doesn't mind at all hanging out in there for a little while in the morning), grab a cup of coffee, and sit down to pump.
Did I tell you that I have a new pump? After my initial misadventures with the Med*ela Mini-Electric* (pain, bruised nipples, and very little milk, the trifecta of pumping), my sister got fed up with my whining and got me a Pump in Style** for Christmas. I also followed the recommendations of two brilliant commenters and got a bigger size of breast shield. Clouds parted. Angels sang. Not only did pumping no longer hurt, but it actually resulted in milk. Amazing!
The only snag is that every time I pump, while a fountain of milk gushes forth mightily from my right breast, my left breast refuses to yield anything for a good long time, and then FINALLY relents by producing a slow trickle, that drip drip drips into the bottle, producing a total of about 1-1.5 oz (the record to date is 2.5 oz, but that only happened once) in the time that it takes the right to produce 4-5 oz. I suppose this isn't actually a problem, since between the two, they're producing enough for the Egg, for which I am tremendously grateful, but why on earth the disparity? This may sound like a weird place for vanity, but I've always been pretty happy about my boobs. By all accounts they're a good size and shape, and I have always thought of them as symmetrical. However, while they still look the same, their behavior is so different that I just don't know what to make of it. Is the right actually producing 3-5 times as much as the left? If so, why? I make every effort to put the baby to each breast in turn, and obviously they both get the same amount of pumping, so how can the one be getting so much more stimulation than the other? Also, the baby seems equally happy with both, and feeds for the same amount of time at each, which I wouldn't have expected if the left was under-performing so dramatically. Or alternatively, do they just have very different opinions about the pump? Could it be that my left is very choosy, and prefers to only give up the goods for the baby, while my left is of looser morals, and will give it up for anyone that asks?
Does any of this actually matter? Probably not. As long as the baby is happy and healthy, I hardly see uneven pumping to be an actual problem. However, I do worry a bit that taking more out of the right every day will tend to reinforce any asymmetry in production that already exists, especially when I go back to work full time, and am pumping a lot more. And would that be a problem? I guess not, but it might make me look kind of funny.
Tell me the truth, dear readers (if anyone is still reading, given that I'm so bad about posting these days), am I the only one? Any tips for getting the left one a little more enthusiastic about the pump?
*Why didn't I buy a better pump in the first place? Only the Swing and the Mini-Electric are available in Seoul, and the Swing is the equivalent of $250, which is a lot to pay for a sub-par single pump. The Mini-Electric was about $150, which is still very steep, but more reasonable, given that I had it in mind that I might have to upgrade later in the US.
**I've heard rumors that the Symphony is even better, but I tell you that compared with the Mini-Electric, the Pump in Style is an embarrassment of riches.
I'm not actually sure if I'm the one suffering from confusion, or if my nip*ples themselves are confused. I think everyone would have been 100% happy if I were a stay-at-home mom. However, I have started back to work part-time (remember, the Egg has a stay-at-home dad, so somebody's got to bring home the bacon) two weeks ago, which has given the pump a central role in my daily routine. I've managed not to have to pump at work yet, but that means that I have to pump first thing in the morning, and then again right when I get home from work. Eggbert usually can manage with just one 4 oz bottle during the four-hour period that I'm at the office, but occasionally has two, so we have to have two ready, just in case. Anyway, every morning, when I stagger out of bed, place a milk-drunk Eggbert (who has been feeding off and on for the last hour or so) in her crib (while Eggbert has no interest whatsoever in sleeping in her crib at night, she doesn't mind at all hanging out in there for a little while in the morning), grab a cup of coffee, and sit down to pump.
Did I tell you that I have a new pump? After my initial misadventures with the Med*ela Mini-Electric* (pain, bruised nipples, and very little milk, the trifecta of pumping), my sister got fed up with my whining and got me a Pump in Style** for Christmas. I also followed the recommendations of two brilliant commenters and got a bigger size of breast shield. Clouds parted. Angels sang. Not only did pumping no longer hurt, but it actually resulted in milk. Amazing!
The only snag is that every time I pump, while a fountain of milk gushes forth mightily from my right breast, my left breast refuses to yield anything for a good long time, and then FINALLY relents by producing a slow trickle, that drip drip drips into the bottle, producing a total of about 1-1.5 oz (the record to date is 2.5 oz, but that only happened once) in the time that it takes the right to produce 4-5 oz. I suppose this isn't actually a problem, since between the two, they're producing enough for the Egg, for which I am tremendously grateful, but why on earth the disparity? This may sound like a weird place for vanity, but I've always been pretty happy about my boobs. By all accounts they're a good size and shape, and I have always thought of them as symmetrical. However, while they still look the same, their behavior is so different that I just don't know what to make of it. Is the right actually producing 3-5 times as much as the left? If so, why? I make every effort to put the baby to each breast in turn, and obviously they both get the same amount of pumping, so how can the one be getting so much more stimulation than the other? Also, the baby seems equally happy with both, and feeds for the same amount of time at each, which I wouldn't have expected if the left was under-performing so dramatically. Or alternatively, do they just have very different opinions about the pump? Could it be that my left is very choosy, and prefers to only give up the goods for the baby, while my left is of looser morals, and will give it up for anyone that asks?
Does any of this actually matter? Probably not. As long as the baby is happy and healthy, I hardly see uneven pumping to be an actual problem. However, I do worry a bit that taking more out of the right every day will tend to reinforce any asymmetry in production that already exists, especially when I go back to work full time, and am pumping a lot more. And would that be a problem? I guess not, but it might make me look kind of funny.
Tell me the truth, dear readers (if anyone is still reading, given that I'm so bad about posting these days), am I the only one? Any tips for getting the left one a little more enthusiastic about the pump?
*Why didn't I buy a better pump in the first place? Only the Swing and the Mini-Electric are available in Seoul, and the Swing is the equivalent of $250, which is a lot to pay for a sub-par single pump. The Mini-Electric was about $150, which is still very steep, but more reasonable, given that I had it in mind that I might have to upgrade later in the US.
**I've heard rumors that the Symphony is even better, but I tell you that compared with the Mini-Electric, the Pump in Style is an embarrassment of riches.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Hindsight
Yesterday, out of the blue, Mystery asked me, "Do you ever think about what would have happened if our first IVF had worked?"
I looked at Eggbert and said, "what do you mean?"
He said, "you know, if you had gotten pregnant the first time, with a different baby."
My immediate reaction, "that would have been terrible!"
It's amazing how one's perspective changes, isn't it?
I looked at Eggbert and said, "what do you mean?"
He said, "you know, if you had gotten pregnant the first time, with a different baby."
My immediate reaction, "that would have been terrible!"
It's amazing how one's perspective changes, isn't it?
Friday, January 18, 2008
When bad news starts sounding like good news
A few weeks ago, I posted an update on my friend H, who is pregnant with twins again after losing her twin son and daughter to PPROM and preterm labor at 19-20 weeks last spring. When I posted, everything with the current pregnancy was looking good. She was on bed rest as a precaution, but everything was holding steady, with no signs of trouble.
Three weeks ago, that all changed. She went in for a weekly cervix check at 23 weeks and found that she had lost most of her cervical length, and that what was left had started funneling. She is also having regular contractions, so she is once again officially in preterm labor. She was given various meds and sent home to try "complete bed rest" (no showers even).
The good news is that the meds seem to be working. She hasn't lost any more cervical length, and the babies are still growing. She's now at 26 weeks, and her doctor thinks there's a very good chance that she'll make it to 28 weeks (when the chances of survival are much higher).
The bad news is that our standards for good news have dropped dramatically. When last I spoke with H, she said that she and her husband have stopped even worrying about minor disabilities resulting from prematurity. They will just be grateful if they get to take two living babies home. It's hard to argue with that. I just wish that things had gone differently, and that she could be happily decorating a nursery together and making a birth plan, rather than stewing in her own juices (that's four shower-free weeks now) on her left side in bed, praying that her babies survive.
They're little girls, by the way. Is it too much to hope that one day in the not-too-distant future, H and I can sit and watch our healthy children play together?
P.S. In response to the anonymous poster's question, no, this is not the tragedy that I was referring to, but since you asked, I thought I'd post an update. Thanks for thinking about H. She needs all of the positive thoughts that she can get.
Three weeks ago, that all changed. She went in for a weekly cervix check at 23 weeks and found that she had lost most of her cervical length, and that what was left had started funneling. She is also having regular contractions, so she is once again officially in preterm labor. She was given various meds and sent home to try "complete bed rest" (no showers even).
The good news is that the meds seem to be working. She hasn't lost any more cervical length, and the babies are still growing. She's now at 26 weeks, and her doctor thinks there's a very good chance that she'll make it to 28 weeks (when the chances of survival are much higher).
The bad news is that our standards for good news have dropped dramatically. When last I spoke with H, she said that she and her husband have stopped even worrying about minor disabilities resulting from prematurity. They will just be grateful if they get to take two living babies home. It's hard to argue with that. I just wish that things had gone differently, and that she could be happily decorating a nursery together and making a birth plan, rather than stewing in her own juices (that's four shower-free weeks now) on her left side in bed, praying that her babies survive.
They're little girls, by the way. Is it too much to hope that one day in the not-too-distant future, H and I can sit and watch our healthy children play together?
P.S. In response to the anonymous poster's question, no, this is not the tragedy that I was referring to, but since you asked, I thought I'd post an update. Thanks for thinking about H. She needs all of the positive thoughts that she can get.
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