A Pregnant Lesbian? But How?

 

[image source]

I've noticed something kind of strange lately. Not one, not two but three times this week, from people who a) don't know me very well but b) aren't idiots and c) don't know I'm starting the TTC process have asked me whether Devon and I will ever adopt kids.

Like it's the only option out there for lesbians.

These are educated people - including my HR Manager (who I didn't say a word to about kids because I don't trust her as far as I can throw her... and I wouldn't be able to throw her very hard). I honestly don't know if it's just that it's easier for people to ask about adoption than it is to ask about spermy boy stuff.

But wouldn't "Are you and Devon planning on having kids / starting a family / becoming moms" suffice? Or anything along those lines? Or am I missing something? (which is entirely possible).

One of the conversations was with a coworker that I have been interested in building a relationship with just because we tend to be in the same place quite a bit, but her questions about adoption just made me want to shut down talking with her about anything babyish - or anything personal, for that matter. And I didn't even know how to answer.

I don't want to adopt. Not at this point anyway. But for at least one of the conversations, I felt like I wanted to communicate that I wanted a family, but didn't want to get into the whole donor thing or who would carry or anything else specific. It's not like I would start asking straight people about such personal questions.

But is this something that I should expect to have to do? Do people see girl+girl+bump and start asking questions about the "father"? (a term I dislike for a donor) Do people ask you whether you slept with a man or whether you relied on science? Do people ask you how much money you spent on getting pregnant?

I'm kind of at a loss... I know it's not really any of their business, but I don't want to completely shut down the conversation if it does come up. 

What kinds of questions have you had, and how did you deal with acquaintances that ask these types of questions?

Pregnant Dreams

Thank you all for your comments on my last post - I am forever amazed by y'all in this blogosphere... you are incredible, and I'm lucky. Thank you, thank you.

There are a lot of things to elaborate on from last time, but today I just want to keep it light and ask a question to the masses. When you were / while you are trying to conceive, did you dream about it ALL the time?

Literally every single night, I dream about having a baby. And I don't mean "literal" in the overused non-literal form of itself, but in the literal sense: Every. Single. Night.

Whether it's the getting ready to be pregnant part, the conception part, the being pregnant part, the almost-birthing part... I dream about it all, EXCEPT, I have yet to have a birthing dream (thank god). Last night I dreamed that we got pregnant with a girl, and then two months later, we got pregnant with a boy, and we were trying to figure out if we should raise them as twins or not. Go figure...

I imagine I am certainly not the only one with this "issue"...?

I have to say, if having a real baby inside a real tummy feels anywhere near as amazing as it does in my dreams... I can't frikkin' wait.

 

What do pregnancy dreams mean anyway? Check out the article where the above picture is from.

Baby-Making in the Making

Devon and I had our appointment with our second reproductive psychiatrist yesterday. She was lovely, and although she was late to see us, decided after the hour that she wanted more time with us, so asked us if we would be willing to come again. I like a shrink that is thorough, despite a busy schedule.

The last time we saw a repro psych, she was great, but basically said that my illness is too complex, and that she hadn't ever had a patient like me before, and she didn't know how to treat me. But nothing stopped this new doc. She spent an hour just asking me questions about my past and my present, going over the different degrees of my mental illness. She told me that she didn't have my full patient file and that she would order it, book off some time to go through it, and then see me again to figure out the best way to have me have a healthy pregnancy, a healthy baby, and a healthy me. Basically, she gave me hope.

It was actually wonderful to have Devon in the room with me and answer all of these intense questions. Although I don't keep secrets from her, I don't talk much about my past - mostly because I don't remember much (I lost over a decade of memory... a story for another post, another day) - but also because I am so not "that girl" anymore. But I felt really comfortable with the whole experience, and I appreciated the support so much. And I like that we're doing this kind of thing together. That makes me happy.

Once the shrink gets my full file (she's going to need a wheelbarrow) and analyzes it, she is going to have us back in the first week of June. The thing I like most about this, besides the attention to detail, is the fact that she wants to hear from me after she reads my file. She made it clear that she trusts "my side" more than anything.

Although our next appointment is to go over the specifics of my medication and the risks/benefits during pregnancy, she did mention that generally, the three medications in question are mostly safe in pregnancy. She said she had a lot of respect for me getting off my benzos over the last few months, and said that working with the existing meds is "doable". Obviously, there is a lot of layers to this and a lot to talk about still, but it seems doable.

It's doable!

We all agreed that getting down to the minimum amount of medication is the best method, so we will put a plan-of-attack in place soon, and get this show on the road. It has felt like there has been a lot of waiting and stagnancy, but I know that Devon and I are doing exactly what we can do. We had a good talk today about priorities, and put a bit of a life plan together, which involves potentially putting off the selling of our house this year to save our sanity. And probably our relationship. But, unlike our past plan to wait until we move before TTC, we were both clear that if we put off the selling of our house, that didn't mean we had to put off the baby-making plans.

I like this plan. 

So, it looks like things are falling into place. I don't see any reason why we wouldn't jump into the specifics after we have a medication plan. Dev and I had some weirdness around the baby (I felt she wasn't as involved as she could be / she didn't feel as though I was involving her, by rushing the process after she asked me to wait until she was ready), but we had a great talk today, and again, I feel very hopeful.

And I love that she is still on board. Another thing to feel blessed about. 

She's pretty awesome, and I'm pretty lucky.

Timing This Secret

Most of my friends know how keen I've been very on having babies and a few of my closer friends know that it has been a source of a bit of tension with Devon & me. I have been quite vocal about it through the years, and it is no secret to those who know me that having a child is important to me.

But, I have chosen not to tell anyone about the latest movements on us creating a family... except for one person, who I told today. I will say that the choice to keep it to myself has a lot to do with this community of bloggers - you! - that I have been exposed and introduced to. It's not that this community has made me more secretive, but I have realized that by being immersed in people who are going through similar things, I feel incredibly supported, and I feel that I can be open and honest (as open and honest as one can be behind the obvious anonymity of online life) about this journey. I can go online and "tell the world" what is going on, without the pressure, stigma, and constant questioning that I imagine would come if I told all my friends right now.

I told Dev that I wanted to keep this to myself, but that if she wanted to talk to people, I would support it. We decided to tell one person each. I wanted to celebrate with someone in real life, which was really cool to do today. It was in the cafeteria at work, so it was a bit under-the-breath-ish, but she got the idea, and was so happy and excited for me. 

I chose her for numerous reasons. She is not my closest friend, by any means, but I feel as though she is the most trustworthy. She's a clinical psychologist, and I know she takes the ethics of privacy incredibly seriously. I just know that I will never have to worry about it being "leaked" to my ever-gossipy members of our circle of friends. She is also a mom, who has struggled with guilt issues of hating her pregnancy and having a tough time with her kid, especially when people's expectations of her were so high. She is also a head doc, so she is sooooo understanding about the whole medication issue, and we talked about the stigma of that today. Basically, I feel incredibly safe with and supported by her, and I feel like I can talk with her about anything. Score.

I honestly don't know when the right time is to tell others, especially my family. I have never written here about my relationship with my parents, which is very layered. We are closer now than ever before, and I'm at a place where I do share a lot with them, but I just don't think I want to go there. That said, I don't know when to do it. Obviously their support is important, and I do want them to be a part of this journey, but right now, the only thing I can imagine is talking with them when I have to... when I'm showing... and I really don't know if that's the best strategy. Doubtful.

Unfortunately, both my mother-in-law and father-in-law are dead, so there are no grandparents on that side. I never got to meet either of my in-laws, but Devon and her mom were so incredibly close, and it does make me incredibly sad that Dev won't be able to share this with her mom. From what I know about her mom, she's the kind of woman that I would love to have in our kids life. Hopefully some part of her will know, and she'll keep an eye out, in her guardian angel way.

I don't necessarily want to keep things from people, or be untruthful, but I need to find a good balance. I hadn't even thought of what to say if people just flat-out asked me, which I had to figure out pretty fast yesterday when a friend asked where Devon and I were with the decision. I just blanked, swallowed, and said, "I guess it's still on the table". 

When is it safe to tell? Is it silly to think I can keep this a secret for months... years... ? Am I just going to show up at a family and friends social event in a maternity moo moo, 6 months preggers?

Yikes.

How 'bout we make an appointment at the damn clinic first?!

Oh yeah, haven't done that yet...

Guess what? We're going to do this!!

We finally talked! Devon even set up the date, told me that she wanted to talk this through... so we did...

I'm flying a little high right now, but I wanted to get this out of my body, to someone other than Devon: She wants to go through with this... she wants for us to have a baby! She talked through some of her fears - both before the conversation and during it - and she realized that all of the excuses she was telling herself (age, money, etc.) were just that: excuses.

I went in not knowing what to expect, and considering what happened last time, I had every single metaphorical piece of armor I own put on before talking. I was ready to take a blow. I was wondering how in the hell I would put this away... but I don't have to!

Devon opened up with something like, "I know you have an appointment with your doctor on Thursday; when you're there, I want you to ask what the first step is to get us on this road of TTC." And YES - she even used the phrase TTC... after reading my blog, she's almost up on the lingo ;-)

We haven't gone into too much detail yet. We tossed around a few names if we go the way of a KD. I was really adamant about wanting to stay active with the TTC journey... not letting it dissipate after all of our talking. 

She agreed.

Whaaaaaaaat?? We're going to get ourselves a baby!?!?!

Thursday: Bring it on!

Babies, Babies, Everywhere!

Firstly, holy cow there have been babies being born and babies being conceived all over blogland these days - so excited to hear about new developments in the TTC world. Congrats to all who have new heartbeats, whether inside or outside of the womb.

I had a wonderful dream the other night (and I promised not to bore you with every post being dream-inspired, but I suppose my unconscious is working overtime these days). I don't know if anyone has experienced this, but I dreamed that I was pregnant and could actually feel what it felt like. Of course, I have nothing in my real life that I can compare it to, but oh-my-frikkin'-god, it felt amazing. I was quite lucid throughout the dream, and clung onto it for as long as I could before waking up. My tummy grew throughout the dream, and I could feel how every new size of it felt on me. How my baby felt in me.

When I woke up, I held back tears.

When I woke up, I had a text message on my phone. One of my best friends had sent me a photo of her 7-month-pregnant belly with the message "oh my god, i'm massive".

Yes you are. And I am empty.

Night vs. Light: The Eternal Battle

Today is the last day of my staycation. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm looking forward to going back to work - at the very least, for distraction.

It is dark. Depression is seeping in - not in the doses that have come crashing down on me from the past - but my mood has definitely dropped, I have been feeling really bad about myself (disgusted, even), and I'm in a little bit of denial, because I can't get depressed. I'm too tired to be depressed. I'm hoping getting thrown into a busy work schedule again will work against these stretched out, lonely hours. But it can go either way: It can be a great distraction, or it can just be an added thing that I can't handle. I'm hoping for the former. It has to be the former.

D and I have had a bit of a crappy week and have fallen back into a place where we don't like how we treat each other. Part of it has to do with just not keeping up with the great stuff we've learned from our months in therapy, and we both admit part of it has come from last week's baby talk, which was hard on both of us. We had a sort of come-to-Jesus meeting last night, and sorted some stuff out, and we're both feeling a lot better about things. We're back on track.

Although this week is really busy for D, and she's taking off to the States for work on Thursday for a couple of days, she told me last night that she hasn't forgotten that she owes me a conversation, which is coming... still coming...

When the time comes for said conversation, she has asked me to be completely objective. She has asked me to listen only, and to try not to react. She has asked me to listen as I would if I was her best friend, with no investment in the outcome of the conversation. Which I will do... I need to do... I just don't know how in the world I'll be able to yet. If I need to go stone cold and disassociate for a while, I will. If that's what it takes to get an answer, I will.

When we were away this weekend, just chatting about life in general, she said that if (with a huge emphasis on "if") we were to have children, she would want to hyphenate our last names - something we didn't do when we got married, for whatever reason.

So, there is hope. And, considering there is a lot of darkness right now too, I will take in that hope - I need to. While I was on a chairlift this weekend, I came up over a cliff on the mountain and the sun pounded on my face, and I welcomed the much needed light. I even took a picture of it to remind me that there is a light ahead - even if it looks like there is darkness all around it - there is always light.

There are Two Sides to this Story

It's really tough reading over my posts about D and her words and actions without feeling a little bit of guilt. I know this is *my* blog and thus my side of things, but I never want to vilify D... all of the feelings she has around having a family are more than valid - and the fact that we are not on the same page is just a fact: we are not on the same page. It's nobody's "fault".

We talked a bit last night, coming out of the conversation yesterday morning about her dream. Neither of us were in any state to spend the entire night talking. I was sleep-deprived and she had a long day at work, and from experience, if we're not in the right head-space to talk, it never goes well.

D is extremely upset about what happened the other night, and she wanted to explain her reaction (which her dream helped her realize, somehow). Every six months or so, she has a little bit of a (almost) mid-life crisis with regards to work. Ten years ago, she started in the industry that she works in now, knowing that it was temporary and not a "forever" choice. But here she is, ten years later. She has often tossed around going back to school, which never turns into anything, but over the last few months, for the first time in 14 years, she's been incredible serious about it, and has become increasingly excited about the possibility. This time is different; this time it feels real. And I would love nothing else for her to go back to school so that she can start doing something she's passionate about.

It's also one of the first times she's been able to put herself first in this relationship. There is a long history of her sacrificing things so that I get what I want/need, and over the last six months, as we've been working on our relationship, it has evened out significantly.

I want her to go back to school. I don't want to take that away from her. I totally support the idea, and if this is something she wants to do, I will do everything I can to make that happen.

However, she doesn't think starting a family and going back to school is possible. She doesn't think that buying a townhouse in this expensive city of ours and starting a family is conducive. She doesn't want to be an "old" mom, and this is where - and the only place - that our age difference matters: I am eight years younger, and at the perfect age to be a mom (I think), but she is pushing 40, and I know it's tough for her to imagine her later life as a mom. Bottom line: She doesn't think that she'll be able to (finally) do the things that she wants to do if we have a baby.

And I need to respect that.

But, deep down inside, I know we can make everything happen: school, home, baby. Or maybe I've just got my head in the clouds and am being forcefully optimistic about being able to do all of this.

I don't want her to have to give up her dreams. But I don't want to give up my dreams either...

[Final note: If anyone has any experience with schooling at the same time as being a new mom, I'd love to hear from you about how you balance it - emotionally, financially, etc. Also, any moms who have dived into the role of motherhood "later" in life - whatever that means to you - I'd love to hear how you've found the experience.]

Canada, my old friend, you've let me down....

I love living in Canada for many many reasons (including the fact that I am legally married to my partner). It is an incredible country with such diversity and - at least in my city - a place full of very accepting people.

But this sucks. It is illegal to buy eggs (and sperm???) in Canada, so many are resorting to going overseas to basically buy underprivileged women's uteri to carry babies. And it sucks not only for the ethical reasons, but because for a country that prides itself on freedom, democracy, and liberalism (despite our conservative leader, Stephen Harper), we should be able to get the help we need to reproduce, if we can't do it the old-fashioned way.


Quebec just announced that they would pay for fertility treatments for residents living in the province. All the other provinces and territories are miles behind the times, with this archaic notion that we need to make alternate methods of fertility illegal.


For someone who is not versed in U.S. law, do any U.S. states have the same legal issues? Or can you buy sperm without repercussions and a ten-year stint in jail?

The true north strong and free, my ass...

Different Pages, Maybe Even Different Books

Do you know how hard it is not to make one comment pertaining to whether or not we're going to have a child when it's been decided that we aren't going to speak about it until January?

And I don't mean "Honey, do you still want to have kids?" I'm mean the "Yeah, our kid wouldn't be caught dead doing that" or "Can you imagine how cute it would be if our baby had that hat?" or "Our niece will be old enough to babysit by then". 

As some of you know, our therapist helped D and me decide to put off baby talk (any of it!) for three months. I agreed that it was a good idea (and still think it is, mostly). We're in the middle of the last month of this, and I've been doing well this whole time, but I'm about to explode. Part of why I blog is to get all of this out, and to write out my hopes and dreams, because I can't speak with my wife about them. Not yet...

I can't tell her that one of the main reason I am coming off anti-anxieties is because I'm thinking about pregnancy. I can't tell her that I'm putting away a certain amount of money a month to pay for fertility treatment. I can't tell her that whenever I see a baby, my uterus kicks me in my brain. I can't tell her that I've met some really great people online who I really connect with. And it is not because I'm hiding things from her, it's because I am keeping my part of the deal, but to be honest, it feels like I'm lying - or becoming really distant from her - because I can't share these things.

I'm just really looking forward to a month from now, when we will be talking about babies, and I hope that when I finally bring up the fact that I've been blogging, she doesn't freak out. I hope she realizes that this is beyond important to me. How do I explain that gut-wrenching desire that comes from the pit of my stomach and my heart at the same time, to someone who has never had one urge to carry a child. I don't think she has to be on the same page when it comes to level of excitement... I just hope that if we do go ahead with trying to have a baby, she will feel excited. I think she will. If having a baby is what she really wants, she will.

Is there anyone else out there that wants to / is / has carried a child with a partner that isn't as invested as you? How has it worked? Does it work?

We're planning on moving and a lot of the places we're looking at and can afford are one bedroom places. The fact that I can't turn to D and say "but where will the baby's room be?" is killing me...

Ugh, I hate this. I just want to know, so that I can celebrate or mourn. I feel entitled to that. And it's coming... in less than a month. I suppose I should be happy.

Patience is a bitch.

                    [photo credit]

Fertility Acronyms for Dummies

It's done! 

A list of fertility acronyms and abbreviations explained is now a page on the side of my blog.

Or the direct link is here: http://crazylesbianmom.blogspot.com/p/fertility-acronyms-for-dummies.html. 

There are about 175 definitions to fertility and pregnancy acronyms - common, and some uncommon. I've left the comments open and will do so for a while in case I've left out some obvious ones, or if you think I should add some more, or, of course, if I'm way off-base with some of them. I'll review in a month or so and do any updates needed. Also, there are some that, even though I know the definition, I don't know what they mean, so maybe I'll do a little bit of research for some of the harder ones - but it was important for me to get the list out.

Hopefully this will help the other virgins to TTC (trying to conceive ;-) with their journey - and with reading everyone else's blogs and go "yeah, I know what she's talking about!"

Thanks to those who helped out with links, etc. This is obviously not an original idea, but I thought it would be nice to have one place to come for help.

TTC, BFN, FSH, OPK... WTF? HELP!

I love all of your posts. Like, absolutely love them. I have so much to learn... no really - a bit more to learn than I thought!

Although I'm not yet completely on the true TTC journey (but then, when exactly does that start... with the idea? Decision? Plan? Action?), I am trying to read all about it. Through my blogging friends, I am learning much about fertility and all that goes along with this amazing stage, though with some difficulty.

What the hell do all the acronyms mean? Seriously!

So, this is what I'm proposing. I'm going to read some more, collect some acronyms from other blogs and from you and your comments to this post, and start a "Fertility Acronyms for Dummies" page on my blog, so that people like me - virgins to the TTC life (wrong choice of word?) - can understand what the f*ck you're saying... because I can imagine it's all very important stuff.

And I ain't no dummy. I haz an ed-joo-kay-shion... just not in pregnancy.

But I want to. 

So help me out? We could probably do better than this:

[photo credit]

TTC is hard to see; poetry is easy.

Today, I've been reading all of the blogs I follow (on my blogroll and through Google Reader). There are some really positive ones, written by people I couldn't be happier for: couples who've just conceived, couples who are basking in the delights of new parenthood... but then there are endless entries from women who are at their wits ends with this whole TTC thing (I won't list them out of respect for their privacy and pain).

Their honesty has got me thinking about my own journey, which has hardly begun, and make me question whether I'll be able to stay sane through the process. Knowing my health isn't great on the best of days - will I be able to do this? 

I don't even know whether I'll be able to go on fertility meds with the meds I'm currently on. I don't know how screwing with my hormones is going to screw with my head. Fuck, I don't even know if my partner still wants to have a baby with me... whether we'll even go down that road. 

The process excites me, but freaks me out beyond belief. I feel like on top of the mad journey of TTC, I have so much else going on. So should we even start trying? Perhaps I'm writing this, and doubting myself, because I am still in my pajamas on a Saturday at 3:00 p.m., after sleeping for 10 hours because work is killing me right now, and I need a break. 

How the hell am I ever going to get by without sleep, stressed out about getting pregnant, or up every hour with a new baby? Does this innate parenting thing kick in that makes it possible? I'm not not looking forward to it - I know it will be worth it all... I just worry about post-partum depression, and though my shrink is confident that the odds aren't high enough for me to worry about, that's what I do: I worry.

I have a good friend who has a 7-year-old daughter (pregnant on the first date with her now husband). She's a wonderful mom, and she wants me to be a mom, but she says nobody tells you how much you worry. Granted, she's a bit of a helicopter mom whose child can do absolutely no wrong, but if I'm a worrier by nature, what will that translate into when motherhood arrives?

I work at a Children's Hospital, which is wonderful and sad. I see kids every day who are sick, and I can't help but wonder whether my health will affect my baby's. You see? My partner and I haven't even decided on whether we're going to get pregnant yet, and I'm already worrying about the health of my baby. Lord knows that if we do start this journey, our baby may not come for years. Can I keep up the worrying for that long, or will I just worry about something else in the meantime? Probably.

But then there's this other part of me that *knows* I'm going to be an incredible mom. I just know me... and I know, no matter what the circumstances, I will thrive. Maybe that's what gives me hope and is pulling me through.

D and I have less than a month and a half before we can start talking baby again (therapist helped us make a deal that we'd drop the subject for 3 months so that we could work on "us" first). 

I was flipping through my menstrual calendar app on my iPhone - amazing little things - and my birthday is in a few months. On the calendar, there is a big, dark box around my birthday: it is the day of the month that is my best chance of conceiving. Last year on my birthday, I told D that I wanted to be pregnant by this birthday coming up... that's nowhere near happening. 

But thank you, Apple, for reminding me of the cruel irony that for my birthday, I *could* be in a clinic office, with the possibility of conceiving on that very day, but instead, I will be worrying... about something, I'm sure.

I suppose I didn't have to download the app, eh?

 (Photo credit: here. And no, that's not my real birthday, nor my real cycle).

The New Girl (and a thank you)

I'm new to all of this. New to a community who wants, is trying, or has expanded a single life or partnership into a family. New to a community who is versed in the conception lingo - TTC, IVF, HPT, 2WW... and a whole bunch of others that I've yet to learn. New to a community who are lesbians. That's right, I don't really even have "real life" close lesbian friends.

I don't live in a small town and I'm not sheltered by any means. I know gay people; I have gay friends. It's just that I don't make a point of making more gay friends for the sake of making gay friends. People come into my life as-is and I start relationships as-is, regardless of gender, sexuality, faith or age. I don't have a lesbian community, and until recently, haven't really felt the "need" to have one. I am just gay and living my life; nothing to see here. I married for love, not politics. I want equal rights, but I am not the woman you'll see marching with a flag in my hand to fight for them. I'm blessed to live in a country where I got to marry the woman I love by getting the same marriage license as the straight couple in the line in front of us at the local drug store. (Yay Canada!).

I haven't felt the need to seek a community, until now. When I first got serious about putting my dreams of being a mom into actions, I went online to read - to see how others have done it. And now, I'm scratching the surface... I started to blog about the beginning of my journey into motherhood, but I honestly feel as though I've been a bit of an imposter.

Life got in the way. Relationship troubles have put the baby plans on the shelf for the time being. Chronic pain has stopped me from starting the process of having a baby. My mental health has made the baby take the back seat. But, that is life. That's my life.

My wife doesn't know about this blog. It's not that I'm hiding it from her - I will show her next year, when we are "allowed" to talk about babies (according to our therapist and our decision). We made a deal that I would not pressure her to walk this road with me for three months, as long as she could tell me in January whether she's truly committed and ready for this whole TTC journey (an abbreviation I will have to explain to her). The next three months, we focus on us.

She bought us books last year to get ready. She dreamed with me about parenting. She thought up baby names with me. And then our relationship took a hit, and dreaming got put aside so that healing could start. And that's okay. I'm actually grateful for it; although this whole not knowing is tough, I recognize that I have an incredible woman who, regardless of whether it's just us and our cats, or us and our cats and a dog and a baby, I want to be with, am lucky to have, and can't wait to live my life with her.

So, for all of you who are ahead of me in the family or trying-for-a-family department, I just want to thank you for paving the way, for writing so honestly and openly about being lesbians and starting families - or having trouble starting families. I will join you soon, and I can't wait. I know very few of your names. But I'm getting to know many initials and nicknames, URLs, and some of your beautiful families through photos. I read every comment you write and truly appreciate the time you take to read, and feel supported by your responses. I feel as though I'm building a strong foundation before starting off on a treacherous and exciting journey, and that foundation  - this community - is vital. (I almost feel as though I'm coming out of the closet again).

For now, I hope that you'll let me be a part of your community: one that I'm realizing is stronger than I'd ever imagined would be out there. You are inspiring, you make me laugh, you make me cry, and I want to be like you. One day, I will be like you. I'm already on my way there.

[photo credit]

Head, heart, and health

I’ve been to see my GP more than enough times over the past 3 and a half years. I’ve been to rheumatologists. I’ve been to neurologists. I’ve been to orthopedic surgeons. I’ve been to chronic pain clinics. I’ve seen shrinks. I’ve been to chiropractors and physiotherapists. I’ve changed my shoes. I got orthotics. I’ve had blood panels. I’ve had a full-body MRI. I’ve had a nuclear medicine bone scan. I’ve had CT scans. I’ve more than enough X-rays. I’ve had an EEG and numerous brain tests. I had “experimental” surgery this summer.

Nothing has worked.

Three and a half year ago, the dull pain in both of my feet turned into sharp pain that has taken away the possibility of activity in my life. I can’t go grocery shopping without being in constant pain. I can’t stand and wash the dishes without constant pain. I certainly can’t exercise without constant pain. I can hardly get by doing a desk job without constant pain. I am a completely different person than the woman I was when I could just “be” without pain.

But pain has become interweaved with my life now. It’s just there. And nobody knows why. There is nothing physiologically wrong with me (so far). It is not psychosomatic (according to more than two psychiatrists). It is inexplicable major chronic pain that has essentially taken my health away from me.

The sad thing? I do not have any mobility and my physical health is taking a big hit. I can’t do anything I used to be able to do. And yet, even though I am immobile and in constant pain, my physical ailment has nothing on depression. Having gone through both physical and psychological illnesses, mental illness wins in the “what’s worse” category.

I have to get back to work, as my lunch hour (where I’ve been stuck at my desk because the pain is especially bad today) is almost done. Though I will revisit this pain issue and how it has shaped the dream of having a baby… and how my mental health has teamed up with my physical health to make this an especially hard journey…

Preggo with a capital EGO

I've been spending more time than usual with one of my best friends. I don't know if it's just pure circumstance, or because she's pregnant and her husband is sick of hearing about it and/or she just wants to talk and talk and talk about it, and I happen to be around.

We've been friends since we were fourteen, and she's stayed with me through my crazy days, visiting me in psych wards religiously and just generally keeping an eye out for me when my eyes were full of pain. She's a great woman, wonderful at her job (social work with families) and I am genuinely happy for her. She and her husband are fabulous, and they're going to be amazing parents.

But here's the thing: since she made the announcement, nothing else in the world matters. And I completely understand that being pregnant - especially for the first time - is one of the most exciting things in the world, but there's a line, and I think she's crossed it.

She was barely three months pregnant when we had a particular dinner, which was interrupted every ten minutes because "the baby is pushing on my bladder". After said meal, she took my hand and put it on the top of her stomach, just underneath her breasts, saying that her baby makes this area feel harder after she eats. Now, if I'm not mistaken, a fetus at 12 weeks is about 2 inches, or the size of a small plum:

  

If you want to see it inside of you, in relation to all the girlie parts around it, according to BabyCenter, this is what a 12 week fetus looks like:

Is that really anywhere near her breasts? Not so much...

Now, I'm not saying that this size is not significant. This is the kind of thing Pro Life activists use to keep people from having abortions. This is a living creature growing inside of you, and it's an amazing thing.

Because she won't stop talking about it, and because I'm curious and can't wait to feel it myself, I ask her, "Can you feel it?" And she replies, "well, no; not yet... but I hear I'm going to feel butterflies soon."

I love her to pieces, I really do. But out of all of my friends, she is the one that knows how badly I want to get pregnant, and by no means am I asking her to hold back her excitement because I'm not where she is... but I wake up every morning to a text from her about a dream she had about a baby, or log into Facebook where she has already posted a "belly pic" profile shot (none of her friends have the guts to tell her that HER gut might just be a "generous" gut, without the baby's help) and is endlessly posting status updates about how her baby is doing today.

It took her and her husband two months of trying before she got pregnant, and they were "so worried" that they'd never be able to conceive, considering "it took that long". I have no idea what it's going to be like when my partner and I are trying to conceive with frozen sperm and a bunch of towels under my ass, getting injected by near-strangers in a clinic, staring at the ceiling and hoping one of the anonymous sperms is a good swimmer. Will it take 2 months? 2 years? Will it happen at all? Will I turn to her then? I don't know...

So while I'm ecstatic for her and her little plum, it's tough to listen to her go on and on about it. She gets to do this, and so far, she gets to do this so easily. I get that I'm jealous of her and I understand that it's okay to be, especially when I *am* happy for her deep down, but I don't know how many more coffee dates or walks we can take where I take a backseat and listen to how her life is evolving right in front of her - literally - while I feel as though I'm as frozen in the process as the frozen sperm that's potentially going to be involved in the conception of my (hopefully) future child.

I'm at the age where a lot of my friends are getting pregnant and having babies. It's tough and it's beautiful and it's inspiring and fucking frustrating. I can't make my breeding friends stop (and why would I try?) and at this point, I can't get my partner to move forward with our plan - because we lost our plan - so I feel as though I'm in limbo, surfing around in some sticky muck that may look a little like amniotic fluid, but with none of the nourishment or protection.

Empty.

Happy Mommy, Happy Baby...

I haven't blogged in a long time, partly because of being busy, but mostly because I've been privately mourning the loss of something that does not exist.

I let my faith waiver, and after my appointment with reproductive psych - regardless of the fact that it was "information gathering" - I came to the almost 100% conclusion that I would never carry a child. And what does my profile say? Crazy lesbian mom. I'd be the crazy. I'd even be the lesbian. But a mom? No...

And I *was* opening up to adoption, so yeah, I would be the mom, just not the way I've envisioned it for years. In fact, I still think that adoption would be a viable and perhaps even easier way to go when it comes to D and I having a family.

Okay, I'm just going to jump right into it: I got the "okay" to carry a baby - healthily and (let's hope) happily. D and I had gone to repro psych, and done our own research on medications, depression and pregnancy. I think both of us didn't get our hopes up, because I promised D that I wouldn't carry if the risks outweighed the benefits (if it were up to me, I'd put myself at risk, but I really don't want D to have to care for a baby and a depressed mother... 2 babies).

So we finally went to my shrink, who has been my shrink for over a decade, and gathered some information from him. He basically looked at us and said "go make a baby" ... Yes, there are more risks, but they are not astronomical. I can stay on some medications and the baby will be okay. I will be okay. 

We both looked at him like he was just playing with us, and he said something which I sometimes forget: "You were really really sick, but that was years ago... you are a completely different woman, have an incredible support system, and are capable of so much" (I'm paraphrasing, but you catch my drift).

It was in the past, and though I struggle now with little dips, it is not these vast valleys of blackness that I used to drown in. I am healthy - not as healthy as a lot of people - but in the grand scheme of things, I am healthy.

He made a parallel to a pregnant woman taking medication for diabetes. Yeah, it's healthier not to be taking medication when you're pregnant, but people have to. His main message: "Happy Mommy, Happy Baby..." If I can stay on some medication that keeps me sane, and if my fetus isn't at some huge risk of anything life-threatening or disabling, I have faith that we can all do this - D, me and baby-to-be.

Average women who have average pregnancies can have babies with a lot of health problems. And not to say it wouldn't be awful to have a disabled baby, but we'd deal with it when we would have to deal with it. It makes me a bit nervous that yes - there are a few risks, but for instance, one of the biggest one (as a result of one anti-depressant) is a cleft palate, which is normally a .8% chance in babies, and would now be a 1% chance. 

Am I willing to take that 1% chance? Hellz yeah!

I couldn't believe it. I left the office and it still hasn't really sunk in yet. We can do this. I can have my dream. I can be pregnant - I CAN BE PREGNANT! Still in shock... good shock... And what's even better is D's reaction. I expected her to still be a little hesitant, but she's ecstatic too - and that means more than the world to me. I asked her "what next?" and she said, "look up fertility clinics!"

I know it's one doctor. But he's one of the best doctors in Canada. Seriously... I totally trust him, and he has complete faith that this will actually be in my best interest - he said that I may even feel a peace when I'm pregnant that I've never felt before - that some of the hormones may actually be extremely good for me. And as for post-partum, my chances are a hell of a lot lower than I expected. And, if I happen to fall into a depression: a) I know when I'm depressed, and after many years, know when I need to get help, and b) As I said, I have the best doctor in Canada, and he will be there, with a plan, when I need him. 

D is contacting some lesbian friends of ours who have had one child through IVF or artificial insemination (not sure) and their second through a surrogate. Other friends (another lesbian couple) will be having their little girl in mere days - and they did AI. We have many straight friends that have used clinics in our city, and I've been doing some research on those. Oddly enough, there actually aren't as many as I would've thought. But I guess it only takes one...

I am so freakin' excited. I want to do it NOW. But first, I have to deal with my chronic pain. I have a surgery assessment soon and will hopefully have some answers within the next few months. Once that is clear out of the way, we are going to barrel straight ahead.

Now... just one question: Who the hell's sperm are we going to use???

[photo credit]

Dancing a Two-Step

Well, she wasn't a dragon.


Despite her horrible reviews, she was actually really informative. And surprisingly gay-friendly. I'm still digesting the day, and the visit to Reproductive Psychiatry, and the conversations pre and post visit with my partner.


Before going in, we decided that this was merely an information gathering session, and we got a lot of information. Info we needed to hear, info I didn't want to hear, and a bit of info that is keeping me from feeling completely defeated.


There are risks. Of course, I know that. We know that. My partner and I both agreed this morning (over my tears in the car ride heading in to work) that this appointment should have been secondary to an appointment with my psychiatrist. He's the one who has known me and my mental health for 10 years. He's the one that will understand what *I'll* be like if I relapse, as opposed to some other crazy lesbian.


I wanted to know whether my baby would be safe. My partner wanted to know whether I'd be safe. We agreed to disagree, I guess, on why we were going. My partner did say something that I'd never heard in these words before: "I am not scared of losing the baby; I'm scared of losing you."


Me? Honestly? I'd put my health at risk in a heartbeat if I didn't have anyone to stop me. But I have an incredible partner that will help me get through the "I'll do anything for a baby even if it means almost killing me" mindset, and keep me level. She's good at that.


I'll go into the appointment more in another blog, but what I gathered was:
a) This doc has never treated anyone on as many medications as I am on in her 30 years of practice.
b) Against popular belief, anti-depressants hold little risk in pregnancies
c) There is a 25-30% chance of depression relapsing with a pregnancy
d) Babies addicted to crack turn out fine on the most part, so... (odd)
e) I'm on the highest amount of all my medications, so that if I *do* get pregnant while I'm on the same doses (which I don't want), there will be no room to up my meds if I relapse
f) She was impressed that I wasn't fat, considering my dose of a "fattening" medication
g) She has a book, and she likes to plug it
h) It's up to us (my partner and I) on how to proceed


She said she'd be happy to take my case if my regular psychiatrist would agree to go through this with me and work on some kind of method to lower/come off some meds. She said he's the best shrink in this part of the world, and I agree.


She also threw out the idea of adoption and having a surrogate, closing with "but there are just some women that feel as though their lives will be incomplete if they never carry their own child."


I felt like saying: Yeah, that's me.


I didn't feel as defeated as I'd expected. There is still hope. But there is still so many risks - and so many more steps. As my partner said to me today: This is just one of the many steps we are going to have to get through... so let's get through them together. Did I mention how much I love her?


Next step is my regular psychiatrist. I trust him completely. I guess he'll be the one making the call. If he doesn't agree to working something out where I can get pregnant healthily and give birth to a healthy child, I suppose that's the end of this route.


I can't even believe I'm writing that.


Wow. Way too much to take in on a Wednesday afternoon.

Lo and Behold...

Just a few minutes after my post earlier today, my phone rang and went to voicemail. It was the Reproductive Psych clinic - the place where we've been talking about going to for months, and have been waiting for our referral to go through. They had a cancellation for tomorrow. 


I freaked out in the best way possible; I knew my partner had a meeting this afternoon, but had no idea when it ended. Like a crazy woman, I called both her work and cell phone, and emailed both her work and personal accounts. I would've paged her too, though I was scared she would've thought something was terribly wrong. And it wasn't.


I got a hold of her about 13 minutes later - which felt like an hour - as I could no longer concentrate on whatever was going on at work. She's free and able to go (I knew she would've cancelled something had she been busy, but it's always good to check, right? ;-) and so I called them back and they confirmed the time and place. And doctor.


So, I don't usually go to www.ratemds.com, but when you type in the name of a doc and it's the first thing that pops up, you're going to click on it. I am not sure whether I am happy I did or not. There is a ridiculous number of ratings for this doctor (especially for a Canadian doctor on an American site). ALL of them, except for ONE, go into gory detail of how badly they've been treated, how much trouble it's been with this doctor, how the doctor has ruined pregnancies, pushed meds, not been empathetic in the least, and not even remembering names of patients they've had week after week.


I'm freaking out. My partner and I are basically waiting for this day, for that magic person to say "yes, you are healthy enough to carry; the benefits of pregnancy outweigh the risks of having a depressive episode". This doctor could be our god(dess). They basically give me a yes or no answer to a life-long question.


Second opinions? I know about them. And we will follow up with my own shrink who is awesome and knows what he's doing. Anyway, I totally freaked out, sent my partner the link, and both of us questioned whether it was actually worth our time. 


After much deliberation, we're going. I'm shit scared. I am lucky that I have a regular psychiatrist by my side, who I trust completely, but I am shit scared that this doctor will kill a dream tomorrow. Or that we'll be treated as badly as some of those vocal patients. 


I want respect from someone who knows what they're talking about. Is that too much to ask?

Now Is The Right Time

This weekend was the first time that it’s felt as though my partner is just excited about having a baby as I am. There is a little history: We’ve been married for almost 3 years, together for 6. I was straight until my early 20s, and had numerous relationships with men (boys, really), had one relationship with a woman who I happened to be living with that I happened to get drunk with that I happened to sleep with and that I happened to end up in a year relationship with. Funny how that happens. Best thing about that relationship? We saved money by not having a need for the Lesbian U-Haul.

I guess my early 20s self thought lesbian = no children. So I think I almost mourned the fact that I’d never have kids because really… how would I? (I feel a little stupid admitting that, but it’s not like a kid in college is really thinking about saving up for a freezer full of sperm, you know?). Sooooo… I fell in love with my partner, who is a bit older than me, and we never even HAD the “kid conversation” before we made our vows and went on in our good, lesbian, non-breeding way.

And then the hormones kicked in, and this intense urge just ripped through all previous thought that carrying a child was not in my future. It’s an ache, a physical ache that hurts when it’s not filled. I can’t really explain it – I know people who have never felt anything like it (my partner included), and I know people who just know what I’m talking about when I mention it. I guess I’m wired to want a baby inside of me. Others who don’t understand that urge might not get how powerful that is.

I didn’t think my partner got it, but perhaps it was the “oh by the way I want a baby – sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you before you signed up for a life with me” talk that threw her off. But she’s been amazing. We’ve been ridiculously honest about our feelings around the whole thing, and finally, it seems to be coming together; it seems like we’re on the same page.

She has never wanted to carry – ever. When she came out to her mom, her mom was first and foremost upset at the fact that she’d never have grandchildren. But she wouldn’t have had any anyhow had her daughter been straight.

I don’t remember exactly how it came up that I was so eager to have kids, but obviously, it threw my partner off a bit. At first there was really no response… it kind of felt like I was talking to a dead end (note to blame anything/one her end – I wouldn’t know how to respond myself). When she understood how serious I was, the questions came, the concerns came, the confusion came. How would I carry healthily? How would we do it at all? How can I be a part of this… if it’s “your” child?

This was the beginning of a long dialogue that accompanies this story, the middle and end of it I’ll write another day. For today, I’ve taken my multi-vitamin, I’m on a better eating regime, and I’m feeling good.

I just came back from a business trip, and at the airport, I saw a magnet that I had to buy. It said: “Now is the right time”.  And right now, everything is right.