Monday, May 12, 2008

these precious things

I'm trying to gather my thoughts to do a proper post but it's not going very quickly. Mostly, I think I'm scared shitless about my looming LH surge and subsequent first attempt at DI. I've never really done the two week wait. I don't know if I can handle it. I don't know if I can handle the disappointment. I'm scared it won't work and scared it will work. It's so weird to be so freaked out. And then I alternate between fear and moments of total peace and feeling right with everything. Gaah!

I was reminded recently someone's post, possibly Kate's, although I can't find it right now, about a dream I had a while ago. It was a total grief dream, one of those ones where you wake up and your whole body is tense because of how hard you were crying in the dream.

I dreamed I was sitting in a sort of cafe with a bunch of women, except we were all sitting at our own tables. Some tables had 2 people at them, but mostly, everyone was spread out. And I knew that all these women were my fellow IF bloggers. We didn't talk about it - I just knew that. I was feeling shy and kind of vulnerable being with everyone in real life, even though I wasn't talking to anyone. And then a group of people came in, and proceeded to conduct an armed robbery. A guy held a gun on everyone in the room, and a woman and a few other guys went around to each person collecting whatever they had. And I sat there, frozen and terrified, waiting for them to come to me, praying that they wouldn't take my rings. I wear 3 rings - one was given to me by my parents when I graduated from high school, one is the plain silver band Manny gave me when he proposed, and one is my wedding band. (The one from my folks and my wedding band were made by the same goldsmith - she is amazing and the rings are even more precious to me because they are handmade and I know the person who made them.) So I was hoping they would just take my wallet and anything else except my rings, and as I sat there, I felt more and more desperate to hang onto my rings. Eventually, the woman came up to me and took my purse and maybe a few other things, but she didn't take my rings. And I started to relax, and then she noticed the rings and asked for them, too. It felt so painful. I handed them to her and as I did that, I looked her right in the eye. Without saying anything to her, my look communicated how much she was hurting me by taking these things from me. And without her saying anything to me, she communicated that she knew how much she was hurting me but also that she didn't care. Tough luck. Too bad. Those are just the cards you've been dealt, honey. And with that, I began to cry. To sob, to keen, to weep - for my own loss I had just suffered, and for the loss of everyone else in that room. But they were all quiet, and I was just crying for everyone. And that made me cry even harder, because I felt so alone in my sadness and grief, even though I knew they were all suffering, too.

Then I woke up. I felt pretty haunted all day after that - just really fragile and isolated. It was a terrible feeling, not only because it was a harrowing dream, but because I really don't feel like that's my experience here in the blogosphere. I've really felt so much a part of a community here and in many ways feel like finding you all has been a real turning point in my whole journey with IF. The main thing that I have felt alone about is my situation - there aren't any other bloggers that I've found yet who are dealing with failed vasectomy reversal, and most people out there dealing with male factor where sperm retrieval is a possibility tend to do that before going on to DI. Sometimes I wish our issues and choices were more common so that I could feel like part of the gang - or maybe I just sometimes wish I had made more common choices for the same reason. But really, I feel like my choices have been the right ones for me, and for Manny, and I'm at peace with where I am. Most of the time, anyway.

I don't think the dream was about this, though. I think it was just about how much we have to let go of in this journey. The things that are so precious to us and the things we are so attached to. But those things being precious to us doesn't mean they are within our control. Doesn't mean we'll get them. And I guess that's where I find peace in all of this - there are things that are precious to me, but I can't control whether I'll ever have them or not. I don't have to let go of my feelings toward having children - I will always want to birth my own babies, and raise them and love them - but I know it's not up to me. The dream was maybe just a reminder of how much I want this, and also a reminder of how it can be taken away.

19 comments:

Anonymous said...

dammit you made me all teary.

What a horrible dream. I imagine the dream hangover was a bitch.

I don't think you should feel in any way different with your experience versus someone elses. We each suffer, and find strength, in our own way.

The two week wait will be a total bitch. It will feel like the slowest, most tortuous 2 weeks of your life and you will start comparing wacky internet research about how early you can actually pee on sticks and then, despite knowing how small your chances are you will either be dashed to pieces (which will effect you more than you thought it would) or... (I don't know what the other option feels like but I look forward to the day when you describe it to us...

You can do this. Hang in there and be brave - we're not sitting at our tables quietly - we're behind you all the way cheering loudly! xoxo

Paula Keller said...

Sounds like the type of dreams I have when I feel I don't have control. IF is a lonely road. Even with the blogs (which help tremendously) it can be lonely. Even the best of friends in real life, can't really "get it". I find myself looking for people in my same situation also-I think because I want to see them succeed, to give me a little hope that I might succeed. It would be hard to NOT have that. But I am sure you will have luck with DI. And then the next chapter of your life will be spectacular!

Wishes for good dreams ahead.

Happy said...

I'm in agreement w/the others re: the 2ww (it bites the big wein). And yes, it does bother me that I seem to be the only one w/a husband who is infertile because of a birth defect. It sort of sucks being an island unto myself.

Io said...

Just having you describe your dream made me feel terrible! You poor thing. Why do our own minds do things like that to us?
You are one of the strongest women I have never met. You will take the tww and crush it like a frat boy crushes a beer can against his forehead. (It might hurt your head a little, but that can is TOAST!)

I know what you mean about feeling alone in your IF path though - I sometimes feel like everyone else is doing DI. And then I feel stupid that I am whining and kvetching about how I can't knocked up because I don't have the money for all these fancy treatments when we could have just gone with DI. (Of course, DI comes with its own set of issues and obstacles. But it's much more pleasant to ignore that an just wail at my stupid choices.)

And if you ever meet that chick in a dream again, tell her that Io is going to kick her assssssss.

annacyclopedia said...

Io - your comment is so interesting to me because I feel like everybody is doing IVF and not DI. Isn't it funny how we have the opposite perception? Really, it's not a matter of what everyone is doing. It's just that, like you said, it's nice to have something to blame for our troubles sometimes.

And I'll pass on your warning to dream robber girl if I'm unlucky enough to meet her again!

Io said...

If Lucky turns out to be gay, do you think he would still like the Charlie, with those spindly little legs? Oh, and you can't see in the picture but one of his back thighs is completely bald. He looks like he has a disease. (Whoops!)

Lori Lavender Luz said...

Another part of your dream that was significant to me was the callousness of the robber-girl.

As if G*d/the Universe/Destiny doesn't care that He/it is hurting you.

That's what was so sad to me.

kate said...

Oh, man. What a powerful (and slightly Jungian) dream you had. You gave me chills.

The dream spoke to me from the angle of how vulnerable IF can make you feel. There is a cost associated with IF, even if it's not a material cost (though it frequently is).

As I was reading your dream description, I found myself back at the place I was when I thought I might be taking a short break from the TTC dance back in December. That has turned into a much longer break, but at each juncture, I've had to pay a new price- a bit for this person, a piece of my heart for that, etc. It just brought it all back really vividly.
Chills, man. Chills.


Two week waits SUCK. Totally, totally suck. I will be thinking of you as you embark on your first.

Denise said...

Such a powerful dream. You described how I often feel when I reach those low points. No matter how much support I have in life and online (and I am lucky to have a ton of it), I always feel alone when I'm in that place. Especially when having a particularly raw cry session, lonely is what I feel.

Antigone said...

Futility in an indifferent world. That about sums it up for me.

s.e. said...

I love what Io said... You really are one of the strongest women I have never met too.

I think we are all so unique in our own situations. We want similiar stories and to feel somehow the same but I have come to the conclusion that each one of our stories is truly different. But do not feel alone. For every feeling you have felt, one of us has too. There will be common threads always.

My assvice as you approach your 2ww...somehow block google from your online account. But please don't stop posting. I truly enjoy your words of wisdom. What an exciting time you are at!

Deathstar said...

I hate those type of dreams, that feeling just haunts you all day...

Frig, I only wish DI was an option for me.... see, you never know who envies you.

ultimatejourney said...

Sorry about the bad dream. It is probably a byproduct of the stress of your first treatment cycle.

Everybody's IF journey is slightly different; it's rare to find someone whose story matches yours, but it's still wonderful to connect with others doing DI, even if their 'cause' is different. I think it wasn't so long ago that any sort of DI blogs were rare, so we're lucky in some ways.

Duffy said...

Oh Anna, your dream makes my heart ache so much. I can so relate. Sometimes it feels like the very things that are dearest to your heart are exactly what gets ripped away from you in this process. And hoping only makes us feel more vulnerable to that loss, like we have a huge sign pointing to our "rings". And it almost doesn't matter if every single person in the room is going through exactly what you are, or not - no one else's experience feels quite like your own, and it is an incredibly lonely place to be.

Over and over in this journey I feel like the recurring theme was having to let go. But it was rarely this zen, peaceful, passive letting go - it usually felt more like your dream when the bitch asked for your rings.

And yet....and yet....I know there has been purpose in every single drop of it - I could even feel it as I went through it....it did not feel like pointless meaningless suffering. And in some small way this has comforted me.

I hope you will be comforted, I hope you will not feel alone, I hope you will know that there are many of us sharing tears with you and waiting to share joy with you too. You are incredibly wise and strong. I am eager to follow you in this journey, I know it will be a rich one for you.

And the 2ww? oh man, it just sucks. Stay busy. That's the only advice I can give you.

Thank you for this post.

Ms Heathen said...

Your dream made me think of how much infertility robs us of - our hopes, our dreams, even, it sometimes seems, a core part of our identities as women.

I was also struck by how, in the cafe, we were simultaneously alone and together - we were gathered in the same place, yet also sitting at separate tables. We are part of this community because we all want to have a baby, and cannot - and yet each one of us has our own individual reasons for being here. I am sorry that you feel alone in your situation, but hope that you know we are here to support you: that first cycle of treatment is frightening for so many reasons - not least because it is a huge leap into the unknown.

the Babychaser: said...

The 2ww sucks. But I find that it helps to think about it this way--only the last week of it REALLY sucks. The first week, especially for an IUI or ICI, the potential embryo is still traveling, making its move toward the uterus, and there is NO FUCKING WAY your body knows whether you are pregnant. (Take THAT you super-fertile bitches who "just knew" the moment you conceived.)

So really it's only a one week wait. Before that, any phantom symptoms are just phantoms, and you can just go on with your life.

Also be warned--the drugs (Clomid included) will give you all of the pregnancy symptoms in the week before your beta. Sore breasts, nausea, headaches, backaches, slight cramping, spotting, dizziness. You name it. They mean NOTHING. So try not to let them make you crazy. (So says the Crazy Lady.)

Two things about your dream really struck me. First, that concept of what you have given up. We've all given up a lot on this journey -- the joy of natural conception, the intimacy of a secret only you and your man know for awhile, the freedom to feel happy the moment you discover you're pregnant, the feeling of community with the rest of the real world. Even if we win, a lot that is precious is lost.

I don't think you can discount what you have lost in going for donor sperm. You have given up something I have not yet dared to. (Though I might have to.) Frankly, I suspect it grieves you more than your husband. You are the one that fell in love with him, imagining what his baby would be like. To give that up is very brave, and I have so much respect for you. But maybe what your dream is telling you is that you need to acknowledge that loss. It's very real.

Finally (long comment--sorry), your dream struck me because it reminded me that this is not the kind of problem anyone can fix for you. You can cry and beg and your heart can be breaking. But whether you believe in fate, god, the universe, karma, or just dumb luck -- your path has been chosen for you. No one, not even the ones that love you and would do anything to stop you from hurting, can help.

I hope your dream ended up being cathartic, rather than devastating. Good luck on your 2ww. Just remember, especially with IUI or ICI, it's the process, not the one cycle that counts. Good luck.

Shinejil said...

Hey, you have to call them as you feel them. If DI is your choice, then that's what you need to do.

I guess you're finally getting to the place on your journey when the stakes are really, really high (which is why the 2ww is so agonizing, in part). It's so easy to feel robbed of yourself by moments like those you're facing now. My only assvice is distraction: Good books, good company, projects that demand concentration, lots of physical exercise so you're too tired to care if your boobs feel funny. Sometimes denial is the only option for managing the emotions, until you can actually find out if things worked.

Smiling said...

What a dream... oh boy that is a tough one.

I will be thinking of you as you go through all the waiting and hoping.

I also know how it can feel like you are the only one with whatever you are in this community. I love reading all the donor egg blogs - but I feel way younger, more finanically insecure (goes with the younger I guess), and am in a different country than most with different laws and funding hoops.

but if we all did meet up in a cafe, we'd all be so different anyway. This infertility shit doesn't seem picky, it just randomly grabs people from all over.

Those robbers would come in and say 'what they hell do all those people have to talk about' cuz they'd never have seen such a diverse group stand to take them down.

I am not as brave as some-... but I think the odds are that as a group we'd take down that silly gunman because we know its small peanuts compared to some of what this group of bloggers have survived. ANd if just one of us had one of those shittier than all other days ever kind of a day, well those robbers would be wise to run. A table leg can make a pretty good bat. There are fewer things scarier than a wronged, grieving woman with friends behind her.

We'd get your rings back for you, I really think we would in exchage for you telling us the stories about them afterward over a drink.

Pamela T. said...

VERY powerful post. I've been haunted by dreams as well. You've captured so much here. Among the many ideas that resonated: "finding you all has been a real turning point in my whole journey with IF." Absolutely true for me, too.

"Sometimes I wish our issues and choices were more common so that I could feel like part of the gang" -- I feel this way about our outcome...

"how much we have to let go of in this journey" -- I see this all the time. sigh.

Thanks for sharing such honest and poignant thoughts...