An Honest Post

I was seriously considered shutting down this blog over the last few weeks, for reasons that I will explain, but before I go on, I have to say that within a week, everything feels like it has changed dramatically.

Every day I'd open Blogger and feel as though I was straining for content. I didn't feel like I had anything to say. My partner and I weren't on the same page, and the actual "trying" in this "trying to conceive" blog was getting pushed farther and farther away - almost a year away - and I've already been writing for a year, with, what I felt, was very little movement. I am not saying that the TTC journey does not and should not include years of planning, talking, and thinking before the actual insemination, but to me, it just felt like that was all it was.

On top of that, my illness is complex, and makes all of the little things about pregnancy planning all the more complex. It's painfully slow, and sometimes doesn't even feel like it could be possible. I did not have a job after next month, when my contract runs out. Pregnancy just seemed such a far away thought, even though it encompasses so much of my present thoughts. I felt that, as a blogger/writer, I had run out of things to say, and no-one wants to read a blog about nothing.

But nothing has suddenly turned into something, or some things - plural. I won't write about them all in one post, and there are a few things that I really want to elaborate on, so for now, here are a few bullet points in my life:

•  I am covering a mat leave at work, which ends in August. This week, I found out that they have created a position for me and I will continue in my (wonderful) job permanently... meaning I can take my own damn mat leave whenever I want.

• After much thought, I am breaking up with one of my psychiatrists (which is a huge deal for me), and will be working primarily with my "talk shrink" and my reproductive shrink to get ready for this baby.

• As of last night, I am lowering one of the medications I've been on for 10 years. It will be a 12-week process, and once it is over, my repro psych feels that the medications I am on are relatively healthy for pregnancy (will expand more in other post).

• Devon and I have decided that once those 12 weeks are up, we will be ready - like really, really ready - to start the actual insemination process.

• On that note, Devon has been amazing and I finally feel like this is OUR journey and not just mine... and I really, really needed that. And she really, really needed that too.

• Devon is potentially moving jobs and putting off going back to school until this babe is born.

•  We have decided to sell our house and move into the city in the fall (we'd originally put it off until next year, for financial and time purposes, which didn't please either of us).

• I'm making our next appointment with our RE to go over our HSG results, which hopefully came back clear.

Oh, and one more:

• I'm ecstatic.

P.S. And thank you for not giving up on me when I started to give up on myself. Your own stories and support have always kept me going. 

All Domesticated 'n Stuff

Devon and I made a deal. I will be domestic, and she will be the labourer.

It came about because I expressed my unhappiness with the constant state of chaos that these house renovations are putting us in. Our house is almost not-livable. I hate this town. I want to move back to the city. We have a great condo, but we're never home, and when we are, we're working on it... I have had enough.

But I can't be done with it, because it's not done.

Devon suggested that I take care of the cleaning, cooking, shopping, laundry and all things typically domestic. In "return," she is doing the majority of the renovations. I have no problem with the work - I'm capable of painting and tiling and changing light fixtures and all that good stuff... it's just that I absolutely need my weekends to rest up, and when we're putting in work on the house after eight hours of work and three hours commuting, it's exhausting.

But here's what I've noticed: Since taking on the domestic duties, I'm bloody exhausted. I don't know if it is because I am still doing what I can for the house (I painted the bathroom in the dark for Earth Day) or because I'm not actually this used to doing so much to "keep" the house, or a combination of the two.

I realize that Devon and I make so many excuses for ourselves. I can't count the amount of times we've said, "We deserve a break so bad... we owe it to ourselves to rest tonight" and then end up zoning out playing Angry Birds in stereo on our iPhones. Which, I know is sometimes needed - just not every night.

I also realize - more importantly - how much I rely on Devon to take care of things so that I can take care of myself. This whole concept can be dangerous, as we have spent many a lustless hour trying to talk our way out of the "caregiver" and "child/patient/needy" roles. When you're essentially taking care of someone beyond the normal, equal duties, there is nothing sexy about a lover. Really. And considering the way I feel about sex, I do everything I can to move away from these roles. I like sex waaaaaay too much.

Historically, we've done everything together. We go grocery shopping together every Sunday. We spend the day cleaning. We cook together. We do renovations together. We both go out for simple tasks like picking up a meal or getting gas. Some might think it's great to have someone to share these mundane tasks with, and sometimes it is... and sometimes it's a bit telling for the dynamics of a relationship.

I'm so glad I married my best friend, I really am. But we both deserve autonomy and a life outside of each other. We deserve our own friends and our own hobbies (which is hard because we met through a major mutual hobby in our lives and were brought together by mutual friends). We deserve to live our own lives AND celebrate our life together.

It becomes layered because we have one car and we both work in the city and so when a friend calls up and asks me to come over for a visit after work, I basically have to ask Devon if it is okay and to ask her to find her own way home, which isn't a big deal except that the last commuter train home is at 5:45 and if you don't catch it, you're screwed.

I honestly wouldn't change it for the world though. I feel as though I have someone who supports my every breath, and I think I give back just as much.

And I am lucky that I have someone who wants to climb up a ladder to patch the ceiling when she gets home from work, while dealing with a wife who is trying not to burn everything I try to make in the kitchen.

I am such a bad cook and the food has been terrible. But I am trying. I actually miss having someone to grocery shop with, to cook with, to fold laundry with... not because I am needy of Devon to be with me for every little thing I do, but because it actually helps with the workload!

How do women who have to do all this shit do it?

 

         [Image source: Anne Taintor]

The Other 50%

Thank you for all of your comments on my Canadian sperm bank post ~ definitely more things to look into. We are close(ish) to the States, so it is a possibility to cross the border and have a day of sperm bank debauchery. We laughed at the possibility of heading down, renting a motel off the side of the highway, having sperm delivered there, inseminating in the motel room, wait for a bit and drive home... sounds dirty. And plausible, actually. I can't imagine going through the border with a mobile freezer full of swimmers. Would give those border guards something to talk about, at least. Failing that, we pay the extra money to import. (Thanks Allison for the cost breakdown).

As for choosing a donor, we're a bit stuck. Obviously, the child would have 50% of my genes (really? Wow Lex, thanks for enlightening us ;) It's funny though - Devon and are are extremely similar in our character traits: we're both extremely musical, pretty artsy, similar sense of humours, we're both creative and use the right sides of our brains far more than the left. I am (or was) very athletic earlier in my life - like playing sports at a national level. Devon wasn't sporty, but was more into theatre and music. I had a really rounded interest in music, creative arts and such. Basically, aside from my old sporty self, we're art nerds.

So, with both sides being very similar, it's funny what goes through our heads. Do we pick a donor that is more interested in sciences and math so the kid rounds out? Or do we pick a donor that really is artsy and hope our kid ends up able to do long division (not that kids do long division anymore, really)? My first priority is to find someone who is as close to Devon as possible, so my gut says go with the artsy donor. And really... who says the kid is going to end up getting the creative genes anyway - it will probably grow up to love calculus and astrophysics just to spite us. Friends of ours had a baby last year - the bio mom is white and the "other" mom is native. They went with a native/african american donor and the kid ends up with blond hair and blue eyes. Figures...

I do want to find a donor who is similar in look to Devon. A few posts ago, I did talk about finding someone with her heritage (Eastern European), but in all honesty, she doesn't have an Eastern European look. We talked about it this week, and she said she was happy to go with someone with a different background. It's Canada... there are so many different looking people here.

It's a bit frustrating because I want a bit of Devon in that kid, and that's not going to happen. A long time ago, we talked about using her brother's sperm, but it just didn't sit right - there are just too many layers to that. So I think we'll probably use the facial matching that some banks offer. Although there isn't a male version of Dev out there, I want to come as close as possible. I want to look into my baby's eyes and see my wife... somehow. I know Devon will love that kid regardless of how it looks, but I want to do everything I can to make it so that she does add the other 50% - through avenues outside of biology - to our future child.

Colouring/Reading Between The Lines

Lying in bed last night at about midnight, I finally caught up on some of your blogs via my little iPhone. My prayers go out to Linus and family - if you haven't already got your Linus button, please do by going here. My heart breaks for them right now and they need all the positive thoughts you can muster.

I haven't been able to blog, or even write for my own damn self, in a while and I'm really missing it. Our house is upside-down with renos. My parents just left after coming over to help for two days, and we went away for my birthday last week. Work is also busy.

I've had three quick waves of panic since my panic attack a few weeks ago, which come on strong but don't last. No full-blown panic attacks, which I'm grateful for. Devon and I are sleeping apart right now, for numerous reasons which all have to do with the fact that I can't sleep. We've never done this, and I hate it. But I also know how important sleep is to my health, and I know (hope) this is a short-term solution to a short-term problem. Sucks for her too. 

Our first appointment at the fertility clinic is on Thursday. I want to be ridiculously giddy and excited for it, but I honestly don't really feel like I can be. Not out loud. Devon and I haven't even brought up babies in weeks. We had a good chuckle when the fertility clinic sent us a questionnaire in the mail and we both had to fill out forms. They usually send one for male partners, but they had just photocopied the second page of mine for Dev to fill out - I guess just to make her feel involved or something. Maybe because some couples switch carriers when one can't conceive. But that ain't gonna happen with us. It's me or nothing.

Other than that, the topic has kind of been pushed away. Devon admitted that she's focused on other things and her priorities are elsewhere, which is valid and okay but really hurt to hear. In this moment right now, there is just so much shit going on with us that I can honestly say that I don't really feel like we're going into this as equals or even with the same hopes. I know we have to talk about it, obviously, but there is so much tension that instantly seeps in when babies come up in conversation. I don't know if she regrets making the decision to go through with it. It feels like it sometimes. I know she's really excited at the possibility of going back to school and I think she feels that it's either-or. I think we can make things work. Plus, who knows, we may be TTCing for months and months (and years? hopefully not).

So we're not really in this together right now. We haven't filled out the questionnaires yet. We haven't talked about sperm banks. We haven't talked about cost, timing, meds, or anything. I feel like our communication is breaking down big time around this - which is something we agreed a while back that can't afford to happen. 

I need an equal partner in this. I need someone who will actually be excited to start TTCing, or if not, at least able to tell me why she's not. I almost feel like I hit the rewind button to return to late 2010, where Devon and I weren't allowed to talk about babies (therapist approved). There is so much weight around this issue and quite frankly, I don't want to be the one that is always poking for a response, for comments, for emotions, for answers... 

Devon is hoping to going back to school in January. It's a dream of hers. She's really excited and I'm pretty stoked about the whole idea too. I don't know if she feels like having a baby will ruin her dreams. I don't know whether she feels like we have to decide on one dream - either "mine" or "hers" (they are in quotations for a reason). Whenever I mention something like "Let's see how school/work will look in our overall plan," I feel like she thinks all that I have on my mind is baby and I'm making everything about me. And I'm not. I'm a planner. I just want to fucking know what our lives are going to look like - in every respect - over the next couple of years, because there is so much change going on right now that I'm floundering a little bit. And I feel as though we're already being bad mothers if we can't even talk about what we want.

And as I write this, I realize how angry I am at our inability to address something that should be easy to at least WANT to talk about. Even if it's hard to talk about. We both deserve a partner who is open and willing to look at this big-picture. Right now it seems like there is just a little sketch in front of us. And it has no colour. Time to get some pencil crayons out, it looks like.

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...

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.

Thank You

I just want to write a quick post to thank those who have chimed in with support and advice over the past few days - I feel very lucky. I chose to post instead of replying to comments because I wanted to make sure people saw this.

As for the advice to go into therapy, I think it's a great idea. We were seeing one for the latter half of last year but stopped because things were going so incredibly well. She's excellent, and a lesbian mother herself, so I assume she knows what this all entails. She already knows many of our (past?) issues, and I think it's best to use her to deal with this in the fairest way possible - for both parties.

We call it Thousand Dollar Therapy because of the cost... but some things are definitely worth the money.

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.]

So, we talked last night

I don't even know what to say.

Apparently nor did she.

Perhaps I was too optimistic. Perhaps my expectations were too high.

Me: "So, I've held up my end of the deal and haven't brought up any talk about having a family for over three months, and now I really need to know where you're at."

D: "In all honesty, I haven't really thought too much about it."

(Really?!)

Me: "Oh."

Long silence.

Then some talk about lives ending after children, financial stuff, moving homes, specifics... until finally I said:

"Take away everything - don't think about the details - just tell me: Do you want to be a mum?"

D: "I don't know."

Longer silence.

I was strong and objective and I tried to make it easy for us to talk about this (as it hasn't been easy in the past), but my voice broke and I lost it when I told her that I need an answer from her because I can't continue to be in this limbo, and I need to know if this is something I have to let go of... she owes me that.

So, we left it that she would talk with me sometime this week and have an answer.

I slept for about two hours last night, woke up crying. She woke up with her alarm, and on her way out the door, said she'd had a "dream that put everything into perspective" and wants to talk tonight.

It's hard to be positive though. I was positive last night.

Crushed.

The Power of Words

Many of the blogs I read have participated in the One Little Word Project, and I'm a little slow out of the gates, but this subject is near and dear to my heart, because this is something of a tradition for me.

Every year, for the past three years around Christmas, whether blatantly or subtly, D finds out what word I would like to have as my mantra for the coming year. Although the actual physical follow-through didn't happen until a year later, I think the tradition was created after a retrospective talk at the end of 2007, which, to date, seemed to be the busiest year of our lives together. That year, I finally graduated from college (after taking seven years to complete an undergrad... let me tell you - it's tough to get a degree when, for the first few years of it, you end up in a psych ward every time exam season rolled around!), D started a brand new job, I started a brand new job (first time in the full-time workforce, after having been on disability for years), we moved away from the city, we bought a condo in the suburbs, and we got married. Yes - all of this in one year!

Although it was a thrilling year, I think it knocked the wind out of both of us - especially me, who is not super great with change and/or not knowing what the future will bring. We are not superstitious people, nor are we big holiday folks, but New Years to us seems to be the most important time... especially after a year like 2010, which was pretty horrible, to be honest.

So each year since 2007, I have - sometimes unknowingly - chosen a single word for the coming year. Starting at Christmas in 2008, D made it real for me.

My 2009 word

STRENGTH was my word for 2009. For the Christmas just prior, D got me a key chain which you can add anything to (it's a circular stainless steel band - see above, on a blanket full of kitten fur). She got my word engraved and STRENGTH was the original... I had no idea that it would turn into an annual gift. I chose STRENGTH because, many many years ago, before D and I were a couple, and we were just friends, I was going through some tough times with my health, and D gave me a little silver pocket charm with the word "STRENGTH" etched into one side.

I kept that charm in my pocket every day for six years. I could not leave the house without it, and I always found comfort putting a hand in my pocket, just to touch it, know it was there, and draw whatever strength I could from it. I have always known the power of words (part of the reason I wanted to become a writer... still working on that!), and though it was such a simple thing, it meant so much to me.

Perhaps too much. I got attached to it, and couldn't imagine going through life without it. I think the day of my wedding was the first day that I didn't have it on my person; I was wearing a dress, after all... and let's just say my boobs don't really allow for "storage" like some other boobs I know (very) well.

My friends got married two months after we did, and on the way to their reception - somewhere between the car to the venue - the pocket strength got lost. Panicked, I looked for quite some time, and because of lack of light and just too much ground to cover, I had to let it go. Both physically and metaphorically. It was harder than I ever thought it would be. I took some solace in the fact that I had drawn all the strength I could from it, and that the person who found it was someone who needed it more than I did... that I was ready to move on.

Although I was able to live just fine without it, it never really left my mind, so when D gave me this new strength just over a year later, it felt like I had found the charm all over again.

I didn't know it was to become an annual thing, until the next year:

My 2010 word

GOODNESS. Although it sounds a little funny off the tongue, GOODNESS made sense for 2010. The year certainly didn't turn out to have a heck of a lot of goodness in it - at least not until the last few months of it - but it was still something that resonated with me at the turn of the year. I have since washed myself clean of all the wrongs of 2010 - and there was plenty of that - so maybe it wasn't a good choice, but I certainly learned, by the end of the year, the power that the word GOODNESS holds... and the good did come, just a little later in the year. By November 2010, GOODNESS did fill a lot of my life.

This year's word is the most exciting to me, I think.

My 2011 word

HOPE. It even looks different from the prior years' designs. Because this year really is going to be different. It will be filled with HOPE... it already is.

I have hope for my relationship, because I know it's true potential.

I have hope that we will find a new home, perfect for us, where I know we belong.

I have hope that a new job will come up, where I will be celebrated and recognized (I would stay in mine, but it is a mat leave position!)

I have hope for my health, as I wean off some meds.

I have hope that this year will bring a family - whatever that may mean.

Bring it on...

Playing Pretend With My Heart Strings

Although I am back at work tomorrow after a glorious 10 days off, I am still in vacation mode, as my parents gave D and me a gift of having 5 nights in a posh hotel downtown. So we took the kittens to "camp" and have just enjoyed being in the city. We're here most of the week, and it's making me realize what a good move this next one will be: from the suburbs back to the city. We are not huge "city folks" but we are soooo not suburbians. Unfortunately it took a large mortgage and 3 years to figure that out. But alas... we will be moving in the summer, hopefully.

We've picked up magazines and started looking at homes more seriously. D has a great idea of what she wants. We generally have the same taste in places and have a similar idea of what we want, but it's getting more obvious that though this is most likely a near-forever move, D seems to be thinking of 2, not 3 people. Just me and her... I could be wrong, but yet, how would I know?

No, I haven't brought up the baby talk yet. Truth is, I'm just enjoying the time off with her, the lightness of just enjoying each others' company and just being a couple. Emphasis on the word "couple". Two. Duo. Just us.

Part of me just wants to get over this hump and see what the talk will bring, but there is a bigger part of me that knows that if the answer is not what I am expecting or hoping for, I am going to be crushed, and for right now, I am enjoying my time, my wife, my pseudo vacation... so I will hold off until we are home in our own place with a door to close that's not a hotel bathroom door.

Or I'm just too scared. Maybe I'm just too scared. Am I putting this off for no reason?

I've enjoyed reading my blogroll blogs over the last few weeks. Great birth stories, pregnancy stories, babies and happy mamas... so awesome. I'm thrilled for everyone who has had great news over the last little while.

Sometimes I feel like a bit of a voyeur. I do not have a belly, nor a sperm donor, nor even a partner that I'm talking to about anything yet. But I keep telling myself that my time will come, and for this week, I may hold off. Yet again, if the time feels right, I will bring it up. Because I deserve to know. I've held up my end of the bargain, and it's time I know.

Do I want to know?

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]

Please Hold...

We had a fight. Like a really really bad one. Not a fight, a cathartic shift in our relationship. We are taking things day by day, and things are actually really scary. I never doubted in a million years that our marriage would be in jeopardy, and here I am, sitting at home (which I moved out of for a week), getting ready to leave again for 4 days, so that we can both work on our respective selves.

I screwed up, and I am facing the consequences, but so is she. I can't stand to see her this hurt. I can't stand to know that it's my fault. We both have hope that we can work through this, but in the cyclical nature of anger, hurt, pain, love, fear, and trust... we keep going around and around in circles.

I asked her if she still wanted a baby. She basically said, "give me a while". Baby is last thing on her mind, she has a relationship to work on first. And I'm fighting for her, to stay, to want me, to want a family.

As a result of my actions, my dream of pregnancy has been put on hold. Forever? I hope not. But perhaps... it's not like time isn't ticking. Please hold...

Pain. I am so, so sorry.

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.

Who Makes The First Call?

It’s Saturday and beautiful outside and all we want to do is relax and do nothing inside. We tend to be that way more often than not. I’ve had some physical health issues that have kept me pretty stationary, and we’re waiting on some test results to see what it is. It’s a chronic condition, and I admit I’ve been less proactive than I should be about getting to the bottom of this. Is it wrong that it was only until my partner said that she’d only take the next step to baby-dom once I’d dealt with my pain that it became one of the most important things on my list to do?

The house is a bit of a mess. It kind of always is. We both work really long hours and don’t get home until late, and the last thing we want to do is clean. We’re really good at deciding what it is that we want to do – worse about actually doing it. We talk but don’t act. I’m realizing that in order to a) get/remain healthy (both physically and mentally) and b) actually get pregnant and have a baby, I’m going to have to become someone who is ultra proactive, kind of pushy, and a little big aggressive. This journey is not going to be a walk in the park.

My shrink put in a referral for my partner and me to visit a clinic that deals with reproductive mental health. I think they mostly work with people who are actually pregnant that have developed mental health issues, or that have post-partum, but we’re hoping that they will be able to tell us whether I’ll be able to carry, and if so, what I’ll need to do (medication-wise) to do so healthily.

I really really want to go, but I’m terrified. I am putting off the possibility of hearing the words “it’s not safe enough.” It definitely hasn’t been the first step in this journey (there is a lot that had to/has to happen in my relationship for this baby), but it’s sort of the first “official” step, after the initial awkward conversation with my very conservative and very religious psychiatrist.

Speaking of my shrink – he is awesome at what he does. Like award-winning awesome. And I totally trust that he could have taken this on himself, but I think my partner initially needed a second opinion. If it was completely up to me, I think I’d risk my health to any degree to get pregnant and have a baby, but I know that’s not right. It’s not fair to anyone, especially my partner, who doesn’t want to have to be responsible and care for two infants. I can’t blame her for that.

I’m also terrified that even if we get the medical okay from the shrink experts, the reproductive clinic will turn us away. From what I’ve read, you have to be pretty damn healthy for them to shoot some boys up into you.

Anyway, as I was saying: We are say-ers and not do-ers. Does that change when you have an infant on the way? Do you dust the house to keep the air clean for their little lungs? Do you sweep the floors so that their little hands don’t pick up any lint balls to put in their mouths? Do you tidy everything off the living room coffee table so that they don’t take anything off that might hurt their tiny little selves? Does a baby make you change your bad habits?

Do I wait for the clinic to call me, or do I make the phone call myself?