Home sweet home.

July 29, 2010

Not my home at all, in fact one of the further places from my home. For those of you who know me well, it would come as no surprise that I would call Ireland my home.

There’s no secret that I’ve had a love affair with this place for a decade and counting. I would like for nothing more than a magical job transfer for my husband, and I’d be happier than a kid in a candy store (or a leprechaun and his pot of gold- if we’re keeping in theme here)

Through the challenges my husband I faced over the course of this past year to do mostly with fertility, I yearn for Ireland’s warm embrace, hearty laugh and cheerful demeanor. My home away from home as I affectionately refer to it, is a place where I developed my first taste of freedom and independence. It’s time to reconnect.

I’m leaving on this trip alone, separate from my husband for a short period of time, but the longest of our entire relationship. This is yet another (albeit voluntary) test for our relationship, which seems to grow stronger with each passing day.

This quest, which began in an attempt to create a child, has opened us up to a plethora of possibility, growth and learning and I am so blessed to be supported in my journey by my husband, my family and friends.

Now as long as my plane gets me there in one piece, I’ll be stoked.



One giant leap.

July 25, 2010

I spent the past week running around; meeting old and new friends alike at birthday parties, barbecues and baptisms.

“How have you been?” “What’s new?” or “When are you having kids?” and all the other typical questions generated by thirty-somethings in a couple and child friendly environment. I used to have difficulty with almost all questions posed. Firstly, because I wasn’t sure why this (seeming inability to make a baby) was happening to me and secondly because I was never quite sure about what the appropriate level of sharing was.

This weekend, I found myself answering any and all questions with absolute honesty and sincerity. Once on the topic of making a baby, I was off and running. No question too personal, no idea too stupid. I felt lighter than I had, in social conversation, in ages.

By the end of some of the chats I was being complimented on my good attitude or positive outlook. Both traits, in the past, rarely to do with me. One person even marveled at how cool it must be to hear from the people around me that I’ve changed.


That was the whole point- and it was something that I had not yet realized.

Being self-aware is a wonderful gift, having people around you who see you for who you are and what you’re trying to accomplish is a blessing greater than I had ever imagined.

I just took another giant leap in the right direction.


(En) Joy.

July 19, 2010

We are lucky. There are a million things that I have to be thankful for, included in this list: my husband, my two “babies” (I told you this time would come) and my general state of happiness.

We’re livin large. Something that I’m not proud of, but grateful for. In turn, what I do with this is totally not without consequence, in the universe’s eyes of course. So what will it be?

I spend a lot of my recent days working on myself, using imagery or whole food I am slowly transforming the old me into a person who is not only happy to be here but excited to share herself with the people around her (sorry for the third person thing, it just kinda happened)

I wish for my little bean still. After all this time. The wishing isn’t difficult, but rather special, because I am still here, still positive and still dreaming.


If you like this, then check out:


Gastro, the trickster.

July 15, 2010

I just had one of those days. Period a little late, almost not noticing until this ginormous wave of nausea hits, and I think “Oh my God… this is IT!!!” I’m so excited I almost throw up.

Then my stomach rumbles a little more and the familiar, violent wave of gastro washes over me. Gastro in July. Yay.

So there I lay, sick and not pregnant. Oh how I wish I could change this day’s path. But no. Instead I get comfortable (well, as comfortable as one can get when you have to get up and run to the toilet every 7 minutes), and I settle in to watch some of my favorite BBC Canada and TLC shows.

Once I’m bored with shopping for houses abroad or choosing which wedding was my favorite I attempt a drink of something. This only serves to remind me that I’m still sick and that I should stick to sitting there, empty-bellied.

Today was a better day. Period just around the corner, all the tell-tale signs present. As I took off my shirt to change into something more “date-night” appropriate, my husband gushes about how much skinnier (not a word one would usually associate with me) I am looking lately. As much as the fruits and vegetables have to do with it, I turn and thank him, and whisper a big thanks… to the gastro.

There you have it. The silver lining.


More than not thinking.

July 12, 2010

It has been said, time after time, to those of us trying to get pregnant that we should just stop “trying”. What exactly does that mean? Stop having sex? Stop longing for the very thing that we were designed to create? I’ve never been sure. I just smile and nod, and wait impatiently for the moment I can walk away.

I’ve never believed people to be malicious. Ignorant? Sure. Arrogant? Yes. But being that baby-making is such a hot topic lately, with all the fertility procedures going on in Hollywood and elsewhere- people still have their best foot forward when trying to offer solutions. And I think that’s it, people don’t like to listen to the issue idly. They need to fix it. It’s the mum in them, which makes the situation that much more interesting, or ironic if you will.

Do you know how often people get pregnant after infertility once they adopt a child? Statistically no more than those who struggled and didn’t adopt. Where is this notion coming from? Well, SATC for starters. Now I know some of you are reading this and thinking that you know someone who that happened to. Usually it’s a friend’s uncle’s cousin’s wife’s daughter, but that doesn’t mean it can’t work for me, right?

I believe that conception occurs under all kinds of conditions, to big and small women. To women who eat well and to those who don’t. It happens to women who want a baby and to those who don’t. To women in developing countries and women right here at home. You get the picture.

The road we (my amazingly supportive husband and I) are on now, mainly with regards to the OVUM work (http://www.fertileheart.com) is about listening to your body, healing yourself, making room for a baby to grow- figuratively speaking.

It’s more than just forgetting about the pain or just not thinking about it. It’s about addressing the pain, feeling it, longing for the child and learning about yourself along the way.

A much more scenic route, but a trip that will last a lifetime.


The Big Bang.

July 9, 2010

We all know how babies are made… or how slutty girls get a reputation.

For years and years I used to dread the concept of a late period, or anything else that might indicate an unwanted pregnancy. As time charges ahead, I would covet one such thing, if I had a hot tub, and could somehow go back in time…

For some people, who have had their children they will say things like: “oh, you are so lucky to have no kids, they’re a lot of work”. To these people I say- “next time, keep it in your pants”.

To the rest of you parents out there (the ones who get that raising children will inevitably be both hard work and disappointment- along with all the good stuff), we can look to you for a sneak peak. We can carry your children on our hips, as though they are our own. We can feed them, play with them and teach them how to work through their dollar store workbooks. We can pretend, while in your home, that we are in your shoes. Everything but diapers, cause that’s just gross.

It takes a lot of resolve, from what I can see, to be a decent parent (I didn’t say great, because that’s all in the eye of the beholder, isn’t it?). The love, the dedication and the effort, oh and did I say love? That seems to be the most important ingredient.

For all the blood, sweat and tears there are great times too. But it all begins from one single act.

A big (or little) bang.


Working for the end.

July 6, 2010

Do you know the expression “work to live”? Very much associated with this lovely place I live. When summer hits and I’ve loads of time off, that’s exactly how I feel. Like I’ve worked all year to live the summer.

I began thinking about this expression in terms of baby-making, or beginning a family, and find that it totally fits. We are working, sometimes harder than we ever thought possible and that work comes in the form of everything from the actual making of the baby (yes, I mean sex) to the planning process or in our case extensive fertility treatments. In ways that some people may not even consider, we have worked to create this baby.

Has it been hard work? Absolutely. Do I think that this is all worth it? Double-absolutely.

This isn’t a job, it’s work, but for the coolest end result. It’s not for time off, or a sweet vacation. But for the family we so desire.

In the famous words of Loverboy-

“Everyone’s watching, to see what you will do Everyone’s looking at you, oh”

Thanks to our unofficial cheering section who pray, wish and hope with us. Keep watching, something magical will soon happen.


Express yourself.

July 3, 2010

I never, throughout this incredible journey, considered how good it would feel to express what I’m going through- be it in writing or in a good conversation with someone I trust (or whoever will listen).

I look back to the many visits to the clinic, not with regret, but with fondness, because had I not gone through that challenge I never would have found myself here. It was important, for someone like me, to be put in a situation where I felt as though I wasn’t being heard. As soon as I had that first chemical pregnancy, it was a blessing. Because when people don’t listen I usually just speak louder until someone hears me. The universe must’ve heard me, and now my journey is richer than I had ever thought possible.

I wanted to lay down, have the clinic put my husbands sperm inside me and have a baby. Period. No thought to what I was feeling, or pain that was leftover from God only knows when. I disconnected the body and mind, never stopping to think that life can’t come from a disconnect, you have to be whole.

The more I write this, the more I talk to people, the closer I come to my dream of being a mother.

I am so close I can feel it.


Anything goes.

July 1, 2010

A beautiful day in the city; pints and good conversation, that’s what makes the good life, well… good.

It’s been far too long since I’ve been on this journey that I’ve taken some time to enjoy my own city, venture out beyond the world where I live and dare to soak in some good times with people who don’t annoy me.

I’ve just recently learned to invite the longing in, to explore these feelings of childlessness and to plan for my future. But in this future I can also see a growth towards the richness of good food, better chat and a drink or two.

So the next time I’m wondering what more I can do, beyond the imagery and body talk work, above the praying and eating well, I may just go out and order myself a beer sampler platter, sit in the sun and enjoy what I’ve got.