Typical stupid chick who believed motherhood after 40 would be easy. It wasn't; and that's a gross understatement. Thanks to CCRM and a lot of money, a little lady made me a mommy and I found love and weakness in myself I never knew existed.
A hundred years ago I began this blog to document my very unorthodox plan to motherhood (single, donor embryo) and the universe rewarded me with a beautiful, intelligent, healthy, kind, curious, funny, witty, empathic and loving human being. I was so lucky. And this amazing little creature just started kindergarten and turns 6 this year!
(Image removed) I doubt anyone's still lurking out there, but I just wanted to post an update. And to wish all of my old blog buddies the best as they walk through life.
So grateful my eggs were crap - or I wouldn't have this beauty. My strong, sweet, hilarious, smart, fiery soul. She loves animals and all things Disney Princess - yet she's no girly girl. She is a rough and tumble girl, that's for sure.
I've connected with several of her half siblings and it's eerie how much they look alike. They all look like full siblings - a testament to the powerful genes of their sperm donor.
We're doing well. She's 3 years old and in pre-school - the most awesome creature on the planet and my love for her has no bounds. I couldn't have imagined the depth and power of this love. All else pales by comparison.
I hope you're all healthy and enjoying life with your families. I miss the active blogging days sometimes and I sure do wish others would post, at least a couple of times a year, to keep us all caught up. :)
C.C...RM won't allow me to donate them to another woman/couple in an open ID situation and so I'm stuck.
On this very blog I said CLEARLY many, many times that I would NOT NOT NOT think anything of donating any residual embryos forward. And, you know what, I don't. But I will admit that after having my daughter, I feel a strong responsibility towards those 11 clumps of cells I created and I simply cannot will not give them to someone anonymously risking the possibility that our children will never know their full siblings.
That I cannot do with a clear conscience. Yes, I would rather donate them to research.
I don't feel like their mother, I feel like their guardian - that I am to ensure they're placed into the hands of good people. And other than maybe "friends" on Fa..ce..bo.ok and sharing some pictures here and there, that's it. I don't want to dictate to those parents what's right for they and their children. I merely want to make every effort possible that my beautiful little lady will have the opportunity to know her siblings - at some point that everyone is comfortable with.
Maybe that's fucked up and asking too much. I don't know.
By the way, here's the latest pic - waiting at doctor's office, she decided to put on my glasses and organize the contents of my purse.
Before calling me Captain Obvious, allow me to explain.
Two women on my blog roll (I actually thought it was almost all of them - mostly because I'm prone to exaggeration) and two women in my "real life" and several women on the fertility forum site where I used to hang/post have all received natural BFP's AFTER years of TTC, massive sums of cash forked over to fertility clinics, tons of BFN's, tears and finally the joy of success. Happily, off they went with baby in hand, spooked by the clinical nature of their conception but mostly just damned happy to be mothers.
Birth control? HAAAAAA! Of course not, after that history, would you? But low and behold. They became those women. You know who. The women every annoying know-it-all felt compelled to tell you about when you were knee-deep in follistim injectibles and fertility bills. The women who tried and tried and tried and tried FOREVER to have a child - first by YEARS of regular, unprotected sex and then more years of timed, medicated transfers of beautiful embryos. Only after many of the latter did they finally bring home a baby and voila, they'd report a natural pregnancy not long after.
The stuff of legends? I used to think so. I thought it was 99 parts bullshit, 1 part grain of truth (the pregnancy was truth - how they got there I seriously doubted).
But it's happened too often in my very short sample of infertiles for me to ignore. It happens. And often. There, I said it. Curse me. Whatever. But I calls it as I sees it.
And no, I don't believe it has anything to do with "relaxing" and that these women, now mothers, relieved so much inner stress that their bodies did what they hadn't previously done. No, I don't actually believe that. But I do think there may be some kind of hormonal righting, something that triggers the body to finally do what it just couldn't. Hell, I don't know. I'm no scientist - CLEARLY. I just know that pregnancy changed my body in every single way (none of which was good, frankly) and I would be foolish not to allow for the possibility that it stirs the chemistry just enough, cleans out the pipes ever so diligently that...natural conception becomes far more likely.
A mutual friend Kathy. Eight years, countless IVF's and finally, twin boys. When they were 8 months and she was going out of her mind trying to juggle it all, she was nauseaus. Isabella was born 9 months later. She never had unprotected sex again.
A colleague. Two years of IVF. A baby girl. Six months later. Holy shit, she was pregnant.
Emmeline's mommy. IVF after too many years of unprotected sex yielded no baby. Fresh IVF at CCRM, BFN. Adoption paperwork. FET, BFP. Beautiful little lady. 1.5 years later, miscarriage (read: natural conception) and 12 weeks ago, BFP. Twins, albeit identical (so 1 damned good egg/embryo split). Still. WTF?
Emily. Three failed IVF's after 4 years of unprotected sex and no baby. Finally, a little girl after a successful FET. And when her daughter was about to turn 1, a late period turned into a second daughter. Surprise!
There are actually several others but it's late and you get the point.
I've now turned into one of those women (roll eyes) who absolutely thinks you can get pregnant naturally, despite blowing six figures at the highest end clinics, despite going donor egg route, despite decades of infertility.
The recipe, as far as I can tell is this: regular sex, unblocked fallopian tubes in a woman under 40.
Then again, is that really so magical? Isn't that what everyone has to have?
Perhaps infertiles have just been handed so much shit for so long and had to suck it up and push on to build their families that when years later the very mundane, normal course of things happens - pregnancy - they're ready to call the Vatican and have it declared a miracle.
Awesome. Wonderful. Unexpected. Yes, all of those things. But just pretty normal. And a very very good normal, indeed.
Oh and about us....we're good. I have the most delightful, feisty, ridiculously smart firecracker. She'll outwit me before her 10th birthday. Until then, I'll pretend I'm a formidable opponent. Wish me luck. ;) and here's a recent shot of the little lady who owns my heart. Next month she'll be 2. Wow!
Finally, let me just say how much this post brought back memories. There was a time (2008-2010) when I was on the very edge of my seat reading all of your stories, crying with you and celebrating the really great moments in your lives. There was absolutely a sisterhood I felt, and still do. It's brought me such joy to see that most of us have gone on to have our children, whether by donor eggs or IVF and our own eggs or adoption. We have the children we were meant to have, and that's about as otherworldly as I'm going to get.
There were a couple of ladies that made choices to take different paths and despite loving my daughter more than my own life by leaps and bounds, I can honestly say that motherhood has given me a unique perspective on being childfree. I don't think my life was less happy or complete than it is now. It was merely different, so I know without a shadow of a doubt that either path brings an equally rich and fulfilled life.
Yeap, I do. They're fun and funny and mischevious and even though it can be...well...maddening, the good far outweighs the bad (for me, anyway). Infants, however - ugh! HATE IT! Drooling blobs that can do NOTHING for themselves but shit and cry, and they do lots of it. There wasn't a single rewarding day for me until she began to crawl at 8 months. Ironically, I'd LOVE another one and with 11 on ice, I could but....c'mon. I'm 45 now and she took enough of a physical toll on my body (c-section healed after the sponge was surgically removed, of course). And then there's the childcare costs. If I were even 40, I'd do it again. Alas, my little lady is likely it for me - but I can so feel the pull for another. :) I've kept up with you all, stalking blogs, cheering and even shedding some tears. I really feel as though there was a sisterhood between us ladies throughout our different paths and I still hold it close to me and think of you all so very often.
There's so much to say but for now, I'll leave you with pictures of my beautiful little lady - 16 months old. The love of my life. And wish you all continued success and happiness and, yes, I'll still be looking in on you all.
First of all, I just don't blog anymore. This fucking c-section catastrophe has absolutely destroyed me since baby's birth.
But I will give everyone an update. After me complaining about not feeling right and asking why the wound doesn't heal for past 2 months (out of 3) and my legs experiencing shooting pains, etc. (why bore you with all of the details?), I saw the Medical Director of the Wound Center last Monday for a second opinion. He is a Vascular Surgeon and said we should open it back up and clean it out and see what's going on why it hadn't healed.
On St. Patrick's Day, I was in recovery when the surgeon told me they found a "sponge inside." WTF?! My best friend, V, came up from Miami to help me with baby that day/night and left this morning. He'd already seen her while I was out of it to tell her same. She was aghast.
But AT LEAST I know now I wasn't crazy in all of the feelings I was having and I feel so much more positive now that this wound WILL finally heal. Of course, the gaping hole inside me is much larger now but as long as I heal, I'm going to thank my lucky stars!
Not a great picture of my little one but a cute one all the same. A friend of mine watches her one day a week to give me a break. Her dog, B, is the sweetest guy - a big dumb, happy, nervous and energetic Weimaraner. I trust him COMPLETELY. He couldn't hurt a fly. In fact, my fiery little Pekingese lunged at him a couple of years back and got him in the face and he got scared and keeps away from her since then. He wants no trouble from a 13 lb. Peke. ;)
Anyway, seems my little one was filthy and he decided she absolutely needed her face washed. What a sweetie! And the little one thought it was a hoot.
I'm a very big fan of dogs and kids, as you can tell.
(Oh....My fucked up c-section wound is still not closed and I'm wondering if it'll still be there when my girl goes to grad school - but the wound vac came off today and now I'll just pack it 1-2 times/day, until we see how that goes. UGH!)