Because I am not above gloating, I just want to say I told you so. I told you Snooki was pregnant. You cried foul, and now I'm saying How you like me now?
The key to determining whether a celebrity is pregnant is you have to ask yourself: Self, does anyone in their right mind give a shit about this person? If the answer is No, then that person is pregnant. If the answer is Yes, then 50% of the time, that person is pregnant. If the person is gay, subtract 20 percent. If the person is unmarried, add 20 percent. If the person is over age 35, chances are 90 percent.
I'm glad we had this talk.
Now, FYI, Uma Thurman is pregnant. She is 41. This will be her third child. More power to her.
The baby thing is inescapable. There's no use in trying to block it out; it's ever-present. Avoiding baby-related things is futile -- everyone who hasn't been in your situation will never understand why you feel the way you do, and they will think you are 1) An asshole for trying to avoid baby-related things and 2) Self-centered.
It's best not to admit that baby-related things make you feel like you might scream uncontrollably. They won't understand.
They might think they do, but they don't and can't, and it's not their fault. The best of friends who have never been through this don't get it, but at least they accept you for the crazy person you've become and they are well-stocked with wine.
I wonder: Maybe I am not supposed to have kids. Maybe I just want kids because everyone else has kids. Maybe I just want kids because I want to give my parents and my father-in-law grandkids. Maybe I just want kids because my husband wants to be a father. Maybe I would be an unfit mother. Maybe this is natural selection or evolution or the Earth's way of saying please stop overpopulating.
I wonder: Maybe I only care because I think I am supposed to care.
But then it wouldn't hurt so bad.
Showing posts with label infertility confuses fertiles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infertility confuses fertiles. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Drinking like a pregnant person
For starters, I have to share one story. Over the weekend someone asked me if my husband and I are planning on having children. I accept that people are going to ask me this even if they barely know me, as was the case this time. It's simply something humans do, inquiring after each other's procreational intentions. My blanket response is: "We're working on it," which is what I said this time. The person asked me how long we'd been working on it. I said, "A while." She said, "Oh, then you should stop trying! Then I'm sure it would happen. You know, because of all the stress that builds up in your body."
I think I said, "I know, right?" But I was thinking of an infertility blog I sometimes check in at that's titled, "Just Stop Trying And It Will Happen." The title is obviously hyperbolic and represents one of the infertility community's most detested pieces of advice. That, along with "Are you sure you're doing it right?"
Our favorite response to this one is: "You mean the penis is supposed to go in the vagina?!"
So anyway. That's not what this post is about today; that was just a little anecdote to whet your appetite.
What today's post is about is how I've stopped drinking caffeine and alcohol. In the circles I hang out, this has not gone unnoticed. I love me some wine. And coffee, for that matter.
So let's start with coffee. Here are some bullet-pointed nuggets from Making Babies:
- Caffeine can decrease the flow of blood to the uterus, which can interfere with implantation.
- Too much caffeine may increase the risk of clotting and miscarriage.
- Coffee is acidic and can make the body and the cervical mucus acidic, too. Several studies have concluded that coffee (with or without caffeine) diminishes fertility. A recent large Dutch study determined that four cups of coffee a day lowered a woman's chances of having a baby by more than 25 percent -- comparable to the damage done by smoking, being overweight, or having three or more alcoholic drinks a week.
- Some studies have linked coffee and low sperm count.
And alcohol:
- Some studies show even low levels of alcohol can cut fertility by as much as one-half.
- One large study concluded that women who had fewer than five drinks a week were twice as likely to get pregnant in a given six-month period compared to women who drank more.
- Another study demonstrated that men who drank alcohol regularly took twice as long to get their partners pregnant as men who didn't drink at all.
- Alcohol is toxic to sperm, and overuse can reduce sperm quality, increase abnormal sperm, and lower motility. Men who drink have been shown to have lower sperm counts and lower testosterone.
- In women alcohol can be a risk factor for ovulatory infertility.
- Alcohol also interferes with the body's ability to absorb nutrients from food. That includes zinc, which is key for male fertility in particular.
- Alcohol interferes with the action of folic acid as well, which plays an important role in the maturation of an egg for ovulation.
- Alcohol acidifies the body, including the cervical mucus. If the mucus gets to acidic, sperm can't survive in it, and so can't reach the egg.
These are good things to remember, that I'm constantly "forgetting." It's so much easier to just take some extra supplements than it is to turn down a glass of wine at a party; believe me, I know. But the payoff just might be worth it.
I think I said, "I know, right?" But I was thinking of an infertility blog I sometimes check in at that's titled, "Just Stop Trying And It Will Happen." The title is obviously hyperbolic and represents one of the infertility community's most detested pieces of advice. That, along with "Are you sure you're doing it right?"
Our favorite response to this one is: "You mean the penis is supposed to go in the vagina?!"
So anyway. That's not what this post is about today; that was just a little anecdote to whet your appetite.
What today's post is about is how I've stopped drinking caffeine and alcohol. In the circles I hang out, this has not gone unnoticed. I love me some wine. And coffee, for that matter.
So let's start with coffee. Here are some bullet-pointed nuggets from Making Babies:
- Caffeine can decrease the flow of blood to the uterus, which can interfere with implantation.
- Too much caffeine may increase the risk of clotting and miscarriage.
- Coffee is acidic and can make the body and the cervical mucus acidic, too. Several studies have concluded that coffee (with or without caffeine) diminishes fertility. A recent large Dutch study determined that four cups of coffee a day lowered a woman's chances of having a baby by more than 25 percent -- comparable to the damage done by smoking, being overweight, or having three or more alcoholic drinks a week.
- Some studies have linked coffee and low sperm count.
And alcohol:
- Some studies show even low levels of alcohol can cut fertility by as much as one-half.
- One large study concluded that women who had fewer than five drinks a week were twice as likely to get pregnant in a given six-month period compared to women who drank more.
- Another study demonstrated that men who drank alcohol regularly took twice as long to get their partners pregnant as men who didn't drink at all.
- Alcohol is toxic to sperm, and overuse can reduce sperm quality, increase abnormal sperm, and lower motility. Men who drink have been shown to have lower sperm counts and lower testosterone.
- In women alcohol can be a risk factor for ovulatory infertility.
- Alcohol also interferes with the body's ability to absorb nutrients from food. That includes zinc, which is key for male fertility in particular.
- Alcohol interferes with the action of folic acid as well, which plays an important role in the maturation of an egg for ovulation.
- Alcohol acidifies the body, including the cervical mucus. If the mucus gets to acidic, sperm can't survive in it, and so can't reach the egg.
These are good things to remember, that I'm constantly "forgetting." It's so much easier to just take some extra supplements than it is to turn down a glass of wine at a party; believe me, I know. But the payoff just might be worth it.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Fertiles v. Infertiles
That's what if feels like sometimes, I admit: The fertiles against the infertiles, or, more likely the other way around. The fertiles are usually blissfully unaware that anyone in the universe might be having difficulty conceiving, therefore they are just as unaware that infertiles as a rule generally detest 1) pregnancy Facebook updates 2) smug pregnant women 3) baby showers 4) pity 5) themselves.
I've been thinking about this quite a bit since a friend innocently asked me recently how a person ought to respond when a woman tells them she is infertile or having trouble conceiving. Because I'd written here recently that some women at BlogHer had said to me: "I'm so sorry," when I told them I write for an infertility blog. This response completely rubbed me the wrong way, and when I thought about it later I realized their responses were not inappropriate; I'd simply developed a knee-jerk emotional reaction to pity, particularly pity from fertiles.
This realization led me to mull other classic infertility minefields -- the ones listed above -- and I've been breaking them down in my mind ever since.
Let's begin with Facebook. I follow hundreds of infertile women on Twitter, and in my assessment their number one gripe about fertiles is the Facebook updates. I understand, completely. There've been plenty of surprise updates from my "friends" on Facebook that read something like: "Sally and I are happy to announce that we're expecting a little bundle of joy in October!" Or simply an ultrasound photo. For someone who's been trying and failing to conceive for a while, these updates feel like a slap in the face. And so infertiles as a whole have come to resent them.
The deal with Facebook is that it's become a place where people overshare. You wouldn't normally tell some former coworkers and a douche you went to college with a million years ago all about your vacation to the Grand Tetons, but on Facebook it's become a no-holds-barred arena of this shit. Facebook has become, in short, extraordinarily annoying, and it's not because of the fertiles. My personal number one Facebook pet peeve is the way we all suddenly wish happy birthday to people we wouldn't normally wish happy birthday to. If it's your birthday? And I want to wish you a happy birthday? I will call or text you. Facebook is the last place I'm going to try to express anything meaningful to you. BUT THAT'S JUST ME. And that's not a completely rational thing to be irritated about. Just as it's not completely rational for infertiles to get upset about pregnancy updates. We need to accept that Facebook is a place of oversharing and then make a decision about what we're going to do about that. As I see it, here are the choices:
1) Delete Facebook.
2) See the pregnancy update, then hide all future updates from that person.
3) See all updates, seethe, eat ice cream, and move on.
I'm going to skip over the smug pregnant women point because two women made a very catchy song about that and you can just watch it on youtube for all the information you'll ever need. And I'm going to go straight to BABY SHOWERS.
Now. Here is what I demand you do if you are infertile or struggling to conceive and the idea of attending a baby shower bothers you in the slightest: DO NOT GO TO THE BABY SHOWER. For God's sake, woman!! Unless the shower is for your sister or some other close relative or a very good friend, do not go. If you do go, ensure there will be alcohol there. If there's not going to be alcohol, BRING YOUR OWN. This is very important.
Because as many of us know, baby showers are already kind of freaky, right? They have always freaked me the hell out, even before I started trying to have a kid. And when you finally decide you want to have a kid? And then you figure out you're not as fertile as you thought you were? And you attend a baby shower? It's like someone is scraping your soul out with a dull spoon. You must smile and declare all things cute and play games and you will stare at a wall and wonder if you start banging your head violently against it if anyone will notice/care. They will notice. You mustn't attend baby showers. The end.
Now to pity. What is an appropriate reaction to infertility? I am sorry -- I don't know. My preferred reaction is a facial expression that reads: I am frustrated for you and I kind of feel sorry for you. If someone said: Dude, that blows, I probably wouldn't mind that. You're just kind of damned if you do, damned if you don't in this situation. UNLESS! Unless that person has suffered a miscarriage. In which case "I'm so sorry" is more than appropriate. That person deserves all the pity afforded to a mother who's lost a child.
Last but not least, infertile women have a tendency to hate themselves. I see it every day on Twitter -- women who hate their bodies because they just won't cooperate and do what every normal body is supposed to do. They ache for babies and their damned bodies have shut the figurative door on the prospect. I wish it weren't this way. I wish I had a way a person could be happy with themselves even in the midst of trials like these. But I don't. I've been there, every month for many months. It's become rote, the knowledge that it didn't work, again, that I will try again, but without any faith of anything taking hold.
And how about the infertiles who suddenly -- miraculously! -- become pregnant? I admit I've lost interest in many of them. It's part jealousy, part sickness at reading about joy and pregnancy. Earlier today I read a post by a woman who tried for a long time to get pregnant and then, she did! It was unbelievable. All her readers were happy for her. And then she wrote a post about how sick she's felt, and how she's vomited in every public restroom on her way to work. And a reader responded:
"Boo hoo ... you pee and throw up. At least your pregnant you mindless twat. Some of us would kill to feel that way and your complaining. I guess you forgot what it's like, just like every other so called infertile who gets a BFP. Whatever."
(By the way it killed me not to correct that commenter's spelling.)
This is a standard reaction to an infertile complaining about pregnancy symptoms. Because GOD FORBID the woman not ENJOY every single fucking minute of morning sickness. The commenter says she would kill to feel that way. You wouldn't kill to feel that way, madam, you'd kill for the baby. If you suddenly got pregnant and were vomiting every day, no way would you smile as the bile shoots out of your mouth and you crouch pathetically on the bathroom floor. Give me a break.
Let's not villainize people who have "put in their time," as I'm fond of saying. People who have put in their time have tried a good long while to get pregnant; have had miscarriages; have gone through IVF; have cried over their inability to just get pregnant. Hating ourselves and each other, plus the fertiles is a recipe for disaster and an acidic uterus (I'm sure it's true!).
All these things will continue to bother me, I'm sure, but only as I consciously realize whether or not my reaction is rational or irrational. My preferred method of dealing with these things from here on out: Seethe, eat ice cream, and move on.
I've been thinking about this quite a bit since a friend innocently asked me recently how a person ought to respond when a woman tells them she is infertile or having trouble conceiving. Because I'd written here recently that some women at BlogHer had said to me: "I'm so sorry," when I told them I write for an infertility blog. This response completely rubbed me the wrong way, and when I thought about it later I realized their responses were not inappropriate; I'd simply developed a knee-jerk emotional reaction to pity, particularly pity from fertiles.
This realization led me to mull other classic infertility minefields -- the ones listed above -- and I've been breaking them down in my mind ever since.
Let's begin with Facebook. I follow hundreds of infertile women on Twitter, and in my assessment their number one gripe about fertiles is the Facebook updates. I understand, completely. There've been plenty of surprise updates from my "friends" on Facebook that read something like: "Sally and I are happy to announce that we're expecting a little bundle of joy in October!" Or simply an ultrasound photo. For someone who's been trying and failing to conceive for a while, these updates feel like a slap in the face. And so infertiles as a whole have come to resent them.
The deal with Facebook is that it's become a place where people overshare. You wouldn't normally tell some former coworkers and a douche you went to college with a million years ago all about your vacation to the Grand Tetons, but on Facebook it's become a no-holds-barred arena of this shit. Facebook has become, in short, extraordinarily annoying, and it's not because of the fertiles. My personal number one Facebook pet peeve is the way we all suddenly wish happy birthday to people we wouldn't normally wish happy birthday to. If it's your birthday? And I want to wish you a happy birthday? I will call or text you. Facebook is the last place I'm going to try to express anything meaningful to you. BUT THAT'S JUST ME. And that's not a completely rational thing to be irritated about. Just as it's not completely rational for infertiles to get upset about pregnancy updates. We need to accept that Facebook is a place of oversharing and then make a decision about what we're going to do about that. As I see it, here are the choices:
1) Delete Facebook.
2) See the pregnancy update, then hide all future updates from that person.
3) See all updates, seethe, eat ice cream, and move on.
I'm going to skip over the smug pregnant women point because two women made a very catchy song about that and you can just watch it on youtube for all the information you'll ever need. And I'm going to go straight to BABY SHOWERS.
Now. Here is what I demand you do if you are infertile or struggling to conceive and the idea of attending a baby shower bothers you in the slightest: DO NOT GO TO THE BABY SHOWER. For God's sake, woman!! Unless the shower is for your sister or some other close relative or a very good friend, do not go. If you do go, ensure there will be alcohol there. If there's not going to be alcohol, BRING YOUR OWN. This is very important.
Because as many of us know, baby showers are already kind of freaky, right? They have always freaked me the hell out, even before I started trying to have a kid. And when you finally decide you want to have a kid? And then you figure out you're not as fertile as you thought you were? And you attend a baby shower? It's like someone is scraping your soul out with a dull spoon. You must smile and declare all things cute and play games and you will stare at a wall and wonder if you start banging your head violently against it if anyone will notice/care. They will notice. You mustn't attend baby showers. The end.
Now to pity. What is an appropriate reaction to infertility? I am sorry -- I don't know. My preferred reaction is a facial expression that reads: I am frustrated for you and I kind of feel sorry for you. If someone said: Dude, that blows, I probably wouldn't mind that. You're just kind of damned if you do, damned if you don't in this situation. UNLESS! Unless that person has suffered a miscarriage. In which case "I'm so sorry" is more than appropriate. That person deserves all the pity afforded to a mother who's lost a child.
Last but not least, infertile women have a tendency to hate themselves. I see it every day on Twitter -- women who hate their bodies because they just won't cooperate and do what every normal body is supposed to do. They ache for babies and their damned bodies have shut the figurative door on the prospect. I wish it weren't this way. I wish I had a way a person could be happy with themselves even in the midst of trials like these. But I don't. I've been there, every month for many months. It's become rote, the knowledge that it didn't work, again, that I will try again, but without any faith of anything taking hold.
And how about the infertiles who suddenly -- miraculously! -- become pregnant? I admit I've lost interest in many of them. It's part jealousy, part sickness at reading about joy and pregnancy. Earlier today I read a post by a woman who tried for a long time to get pregnant and then, she did! It was unbelievable. All her readers were happy for her. And then she wrote a post about how sick she's felt, and how she's vomited in every public restroom on her way to work. And a reader responded:
"Boo hoo ... you pee and throw up. At least your pregnant you mindless twat. Some of us would kill to feel that way and your complaining. I guess you forgot what it's like, just like every other so called infertile who gets a BFP. Whatever."
(By the way it killed me not to correct that commenter's spelling.)
This is a standard reaction to an infertile complaining about pregnancy symptoms. Because GOD FORBID the woman not ENJOY every single fucking minute of morning sickness. The commenter says she would kill to feel that way. You wouldn't kill to feel that way, madam, you'd kill for the baby. If you suddenly got pregnant and were vomiting every day, no way would you smile as the bile shoots out of your mouth and you crouch pathetically on the bathroom floor. Give me a break.
Let's not villainize people who have "put in their time," as I'm fond of saying. People who have put in their time have tried a good long while to get pregnant; have had miscarriages; have gone through IVF; have cried over their inability to just get pregnant. Hating ourselves and each other, plus the fertiles is a recipe for disaster and an acidic uterus (I'm sure it's true!).
All these things will continue to bother me, I'm sure, but only as I consciously realize whether or not my reaction is rational or irrational. My preferred method of dealing with these things from here on out: Seethe, eat ice cream, and move on.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
An infertile goes to BlogHer
Let me just start out by saying that BlogHer was wonderful and inspiring. I learned many new things and met lots of really wonderful people.
I had to get that out of the way so I could tell you what wasn't so super-awesome about BlogHer. It wasn't BlogHer's fault -- it wasn't anyone's fault -- but the problem was all the mommies. There were mommies with little tiny babies, pregnant ladies, and if you met a new blogger chances were pretty good that person was going to be a mommy blogger.
The conversation would go something like this.
The Mommy: Hi, I'm Betty. I write a blog at tylerandcaydensmommy dot com. What do you write about?
Me: Oh, I have a lifestyle blog at zeromusings dot com and ... I contribute to an infertility blog at tiredandstuck dot blogspot dot com.
The Mommy: Oh. (look of severe confusion)
Sometimes mommies would just outright ask if I had children and I would be forced to say No and then if I was feeling up to it I'd say, Actually I contribute to a blog about infertility.
Mommies have no idea how to respond to this. Some say, Oh, I'm sorry! One poor woman said, Sometimes I wish I were infertile! To which I answered, Don't say that, and then she said OhmygodI'msosorryIdidn'tmeanthat. She felt terrible. I felt terrible. We all felt terrible and then I had some wine.
Also not helpful: Premenstrual syndrome, which both Christina and I were suffering terribly from. We cried for about half the conference. Thankfully we were rooming together so we kept the crazy shut up at night in our hotel room.
One morning following Sparklecorn (a raucous party with loud music, glow sticks, and unicorn cake), I found that I was missing my conference badge.
Christina claims that when we arrived back at our hotel room after the party, I flung off a number of items -- glow necklaces, shoes -- and cried, "To the wind!" I have no remembrance of this. I hadn't had much to drink, but I also hadn't had much to eat, so maybe it all went to my head.
ANYWAY. The badge was nowhere to be found. I marched to the area of the convention center where a booth had been set up specifically for morons like me who lose their badges, and as I was waiting for it to be printed up, I realized that none other than Giuliana Rancic was doing a meet and greet in the Tropicana booth behind me.
I shout-squealed: "That's Giuliana Rancic!" The girl behind the counter looked disinterested and said something like, "Huh, sure is."
I knew I wanted to meet her and tell her how grateful I am that she's willing to share her infertility story with the world, how much it makes me feel like I'm not alone and not insane. And just thinking about this I began to tear up, and I knew I'd never be able to meet her without dissolving into a blubbering mess.
So I didn't. Christina did, though. She told her about our blog and told her I wanted to meet her but I was too much of a wreck. They took a photo together but Christina hated the photo so it shall probably never see the light of day.
I, however, took a couple of photos of Giuliana before running away in fright.
I had to get that out of the way so I could tell you what wasn't so super-awesome about BlogHer. It wasn't BlogHer's fault -- it wasn't anyone's fault -- but the problem was all the mommies. There were mommies with little tiny babies, pregnant ladies, and if you met a new blogger chances were pretty good that person was going to be a mommy blogger.
The conversation would go something like this.
The Mommy: Hi, I'm Betty. I write a blog at tylerandcaydensmommy dot com. What do you write about?
Me: Oh, I have a lifestyle blog at zeromusings dot com and ... I contribute to an infertility blog at tiredandstuck dot blogspot dot com.
The Mommy: Oh. (look of severe confusion)
Sometimes mommies would just outright ask if I had children and I would be forced to say No and then if I was feeling up to it I'd say, Actually I contribute to a blog about infertility.
Mommies have no idea how to respond to this. Some say, Oh, I'm sorry! One poor woman said, Sometimes I wish I were infertile! To which I answered, Don't say that, and then she said OhmygodI'msosorryIdidn'tmeanthat. She felt terrible. I felt terrible. We all felt terrible and then I had some wine.
Also not helpful: Premenstrual syndrome, which both Christina and I were suffering terribly from. We cried for about half the conference. Thankfully we were rooming together so we kept the crazy shut up at night in our hotel room.
One morning following Sparklecorn (a raucous party with loud music, glow sticks, and unicorn cake), I found that I was missing my conference badge.
Christina claims that when we arrived back at our hotel room after the party, I flung off a number of items -- glow necklaces, shoes -- and cried, "To the wind!" I have no remembrance of this. I hadn't had much to drink, but I also hadn't had much to eat, so maybe it all went to my head.
ANYWAY. The badge was nowhere to be found. I marched to the area of the convention center where a booth had been set up specifically for morons like me who lose their badges, and as I was waiting for it to be printed up, I realized that none other than Giuliana Rancic was doing a meet and greet in the Tropicana booth behind me.
I shout-squealed: "That's Giuliana Rancic!" The girl behind the counter looked disinterested and said something like, "Huh, sure is."
I knew I wanted to meet her and tell her how grateful I am that she's willing to share her infertility story with the world, how much it makes me feel like I'm not alone and not insane. And just thinking about this I began to tear up, and I knew I'd never be able to meet her without dissolving into a blubbering mess.
So I didn't. Christina did, though. She told her about our blog and told her I wanted to meet her but I was too much of a wreck. They took a photo together but Christina hated the photo so it shall probably never see the light of day.
I, however, took a couple of photos of Giuliana before running away in fright.
Giuliana is even more thin in person than she is on the television. She's also prettier in person.
This is a photo of her with someone I don't know. I wish I'd gotten a full body photo -- she was wearing an amazing pair of navy blue chunky heels.
I'm not sure if you've been keeping up with Giuliana & Bill, but as I mentioned in a previous post, Giuliana had discovered the very book we here on this blog are following -- Making Babies. She even met with one of the authors, Dr. David, who I would give an eye tooth to have a consult with. And now, per Dr. David's recommendation, she's started acupuncture. In the episode that aired most recently she said that during her session she felt blood rushing toward her pelvic region, which is good because increased blood flow to the uterus, etc., is nothing but good as far as aiding in conception is concerned.
In conclusion -- am I disappointed I didn't talk with Giuliana myself? Yes. But I know I would have just started bawling and probably frightened her. So in the end I'm glad I didn't.
And am I glad I went to BlogHer this year? Absolutely. But I hope to God that if I go to another one I'm either pregnant or have a kid.
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