seis coisas ao calhas sobre mim... e a minha infertilidade

OH INFERTILITY!

Um blog em língua inglesa, a convite de uma amiga de infância.

Vou deixando os posts à medida que saem.

SIX RANDOM FACTS ABOUT ME... AND MY INFERTILITY

Just like Sandy, I also think these lists are always fun to do so here I go:

1) I have a recurring dream in which my loving mom denies me as her daughter (I believe Freud would relate this to my infertility).

2) I am not jealous of your pregnancy or motherhood, please share it with me.

3) I’m infertile for 15 years now. That’s many years of dreaming of names for possible future babies. It also proves to me that names have a lot to do with trends BUT I may say that I still like the first names I thought about.

4) Instead of it becoming easier to go through Mother’s Day, every year it’s becoming harder. During the last one I hardly contained my tears on the phone with my mom and then locked myself at home and had a “good” cry.

5) I don’t think I deserve a child more than you do but I do feel like slapping you if you tell me “you don’t know how lucky you are for not having kids” (even if it is a very desperate day for you, sorry but I won’t be empathic after those words).

6) I feel proud that I have the courage to go through fertility treatments (e.g. I know it’s not that much of a big deal but still… imagine weeks after weeks of injecting yourself daily).

I’d love to read six random things about you & your infertility.



Cipreste

não fugi

OH INFERTILITY!

Um blog em língua inglesa, a convite de uma amiga de infância.

Vou deixando os posts à medida que saem.

RUN AWAY

I have not.

Well, let’s say that in a certain way I did run, as one is just letting it be. It has been exactly four months since my IVF treatment was interrupted and I was back to the good ol’ pain of infertility in its whole shape of inability and helplessness.

So I let time go by (a little). I invented a few full-time hobbies.

Now it is time to stop and feel it all again. As soon as my next period is here my dearest is calling the nurse and I’m back to injecting my tummy. And I’m looking forward for it.

If it is true that we learn lessons, the one that I’m always acknowledging is that we do have to give things their time.

Four months ago I was devastated, both by my bio-reality and bad practice reality. I could hardly breathe without exercising not to cry. I had to struggle not to fall into my bed and stay there.

But I was not alone, I was not suffering alone.

There was my love and he was also suffering, this was something new for him. He has a son. He desires to have a child with me. He heard my stories about the past, but he had no idea how much it could hurt. And there I was aching twice, for us.

And time: Three months ago we had Christmas and all the availability it takes. Two months ago I started all the craziness around organizing a poetry festival in my city. It happened last weekend, from Thursday to Sunday. It was a great success and so on.

Now it is time for courage, again. And as soon as we made our call to the biologist today it all came back: the desire to keep all the healthy habits and that feeling of the heart filling with hope.

That’s what I meant about giving things their time. One month ago, if you had asked me about my treatments, I’d probably tell you I wasn’t very much into it, and was even considering a longer break. And I would have meant it.

We gave it time. And we are back.

Now starting a baby-step (like the irony of the expression?) process in which we may fail mid–way through our journey. But there is no other way to build our story. That’s what we believe in today, so that’s what we are doing today.

And now, a poem:


Respectful repetition

You draw overlapped rocks.
You animate infertility
On the drought of the metaphor’s tyranny.

From the portuguese

A respeitosa repetição

Desenhas pedras sobrepostas.
Na aridez da tirania da metáfora
Animas a infertilidade.

Paulo Azevedo



Cipreste

coragem & medo [uma amiga ~ um blog]

Mais uma experiência: um blog em língua inglesa, a convite de uma amiga de infância.
Irei deixando os posts à medida que saem.


  OH INFERTILITY!

Hello, my name is S. I’m married to the-best-guy-ever and have a stepson who is the-best-stepson-ever. I have a great life – my dream job, a loving family and friends, a lot of hobbies. But, I always have spare time for one more hobby. I have been fighting infertility for some time now. It seems that I want to stop having spare time. You know, I have my cake, but the cherry is missing. 

________________________

COURAGE & FEAR

How much courage does one need to decide to have a child?

Why should one have a baby? What’s the point in bringing a child to this crazy, violent, hostile world? Really, why should one even consider all the trouble around having the risk to love someone like it hurts, more than you ever thought you could bear(I heard it’s something like that), and know that this will be the most important dimension of your life ‘til the day you die? The only answer I am able to articulate is: Yes, I want a child.

I really like my life. Okay, it could better, but then again… it could always be better.

I’m married to this guy who is the-best-guy-ever. He not only reads poetry, he even writes poetry. Ha! And may I say it’s not junk poetry, it’s good stuff.

He loves me so.

And I love him so.

And we have a cat.

Yup, we have one of those. Of course I’d also love to have a dog, but it’s much more work than I am up to. Uh, wait, we have a point here: she’s not up to all the work around a dog but she’s considering having a kid? Oh boy.

Just kidding, we’re not going to compare having a child with having a pet. Different desires for different commitments. And there is nothing more to say about that.

So, I want to have a child. Since 1997. (You may now imagine one of those “established” signs.) Yes, since 1997. Or may I say since ever? I’m one of those freaks whom always thought was born to nurse babies, many babies. Here we are, the year of 2013, and I am still not a mother, no one calls me mom. Imagine: I could have a whole teenager!

My story: At first, I found out that my body was in trouble (you’re likely wondering ”why doesn’t she just adopt?”, let’s leave that for another day), then my life was in trouble, after that my head was in trouble and then years just went by (hiding fromthe fear).

Going back to the initial query, how much courage does one need to decide to have a child? And fast forward, how much courage does one need to have to go under treatment(s) to have a child? I think I’ll never be able to answer this question, or maybe the question is just wrong, I don’t know. I guess that the only possible explanation is the “sudden moment snap” theory (not my theory but I named it). So, the “sudden moment snap” theory consists of taking months (or even years) to try to decide on something. For example, you consult friends or even get professional guidance, you write down pros and cons lists and one day while you are putting away your groceries you suddenly snap and the decision is made. That’s it, no more reflections about it. The decision is made and you feel this is the point of no return.

It is. There is no going back to who you were before deciding you want to bring a child to this world. A child whom you are willing to love with all of your strength and forever fear for their welfare. Til-the-day-you-die.

There is actually no return from the day you decide that you want to have a child. From that day on, you want your body to change, you want to give birth no matter how much it frightens you, you want to hold one of those little creatures in your arms and think “oh, look at him/her, he/she is mine, from me, from my love with this wonderful man” and all those silly thoughts that make you feel at ease with the earth. You want it all, you are even willing to loose your sleep and (what the heck!) you are willing to let go of your “peace of mind” and “freedom”.

I guess that by now you’ve speculated why am I mentioning so many hypothetical moods and feelings about motherhood. You know… when you have 15 years to live in the “when/what if” stage, you collect many examples and wonder about them, sometimes you even think you may picture how it is. It’s only a wide range of imagery working in your brain together with your dreams. Still it does hurt in your chest, because no matter how much you dream (day & night) nor how much you do it all according to the books, you don’t get it.

You just don’t get it.

Maybe it is not written in the stars for you. You had forgotten that things don’t come easy for you. Why should a baby be something natural? Before you get to be presented with all those worries and dirty diapers, you have to pass a few tests. And still, Madame, we don’t guarantee you’ll get it.

That is infertility, ladies and gentlemen. That is what separates me from what seems like the rest of the world. Infertility is what causes me to live in non-stop-existentialism-town. I just don’t get it. I was supposed to have a little doubt, then decide, have some nice sex and see the red lines in the pregnancy test. But no, the universe has higher plans for me. I’m special so I’ve been chosen to go through this anguish. It is a prize, you know. I get to go to all of these different doctors and hospitals and go through all these tests. I even get to inject myself. I’m a society-tolerated junkie. I’m a piece of meat. I’m a leg-spreaded guinea pig. I know it’s not nice but at the least it is the truth. I’m impotent. I’m my mommy’s hurt little girl.

Life has denied me, and so many women and men, something life itself taught us would be ours naturally and I am afraid I don’t know how to put it into words for you to ever understand. I have tried so many times. I don’t know how to tell you what it is like to live with this absence. One thing I may say is that, even if you don’t know what to say to your infertile friend, your friendship and empathy are welcome.

And that is what I’ve been living with – Infertility and trying to keep things in perspective. With a little help from my friends, just like The Beatles.

If you recall, earlier I said I really like my life. And I do. I am very happy. I have my cake, but the cherry is missing. So, as much as it hurts, I smile and laugh everyday. And I don’t run away from my devilish fertile family and friends. I also find myself checking my friend’s baby website everyday and even commenting on things. And one day she asks me if I want to share my infertility experience with you. And I’m all like, “Hellooo, I’m your babyless friend and this is a baby website.”. And here I am, starting round two of InVitro Fertilization next month. Hello.


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Cipreste

acreditar é a grande lição

por Chaparro, 2006



Cipreste

picada

que cada picada seja
o alimento do dia
 - seguinte - e que toda a noite
seja o florescimento
do nosso
sonho.




Chaparro

pode ser