As Phil and I sat with our grief and sadness and worked through our decision not to try again, we realized that we had been somewhat naive to think that we could make the decision ahead of time. There is simply no way to make a decision of this magnitude beforehand. In thinking about it, I realized that I had made at least two errors in my calculation.
1) In the back of my mind, I was certain it was going to work, so making the "we get what we get and we don't pitch a fit" agreement was easy because I assumed I would get what I wanted;
2) To the extent that I knew that it might not work, making the decision ahead of time was going to keep me from feeling grief (Ha!). I wouldn't have to sift through the grief to figure out where I was--I had already done it ahead of time.
We talked back and forth and finally reached a point where we were both in agreement that we were willing to reconsider our decision. We might still stick with it, but we could change our minds. In this vein, we went to doctor's appointments with both the fertility doctor and my obgyn to get all of the facts on moving forward and stopping. Then, we sat down to digest the information. This was exceedingly hard for me. At one point, I realized I didn't really care which decision we made, we just needed to make one so I could move forward. Of course, this is a bad way to make a decision, but I am someone who loves certainty and planning and making a decision was the only way to get that--or at least the illusion of that. See, our decision comes down to "no" and "maybe." There is no "yes" option. I hate that, but my hate doesn't change the fact that those are my only options. I came to the conclusion that I wasn't ready to give up. Yes, I hate the roller coaster. Yes, I hate the uncertainty. But, I truly believe I am meant to have another child and the only way to achieve that is to try again.
As I was coming to terms with whether I was willing to change my mind, Phil and I became aware of some hints we were receiving. They weren't necessarily the universe telling us what to do, but the fact that they made us wonder meant that we had more thinking to do. The two biggest of these gentle nudges came in the form of a television show and some laundry.
The evening after we met with the fertility doctor to talk about what another round would entail versus what was necessary to donate the remaining embryos, we were watching Elmo with Lil' Bit. Sesame Street has started a new line of Elmo shows called "Elmo the Musical." This particular episode--a new one--was called Circus the Musical. In it, Elmo is "a monster with a dream." He keeps trying to find a way to join the circus, but is thwarted by his inability to fill in for any of the missing acts. He ends up having a discussion with a chicken, who tell him he needs to do what she does, "Just keep cluckin'." Essentially, try and try until you achieve your dream. Phil looks over at me and says, "Did Elmo just tell us to try again?!" We laughed it off, but it did make both of us think.
Then, today, Oliver's original due date, we were scheduled to meet with my obgyn. Phil picked me up and, on the way to her office, he told me a story. He had recently gotten in the habit of washing his clothes and leaving various pins attached to this shirts. One particular pin was a comma--a symbol in the United Church of Christ of the quote by Gracie Allen which it has adopted as it's own motto: Never place a period where God has placed a comma. Phil began to wonder if, by stopping, we were placing a period where God had placed a comma. I made a really bad joke about us placing a period after God had placed a "period," but it made us think more about it.
After the doctor visit, we went out to lunch to process. We both reached the same place, but we kept tiptoeing around it in case the other one wasn't there. We didn't want to impinge on the decision-making process of the other. Ultimately, we both agreed that we felt led to try again. We made no decisions about what would happen after another attempt. Those decisions would have to wait until then. We could only decide what we were going to do right now, and we both felt that we needed to try.
Now, you can probabaly guess that, once we had made a decision, I was ready to charge down the path. But, I didn't. I am reining myself in on the planning. Why? Because I ignored this nagging feeling I had last time that the timing was off. I had planned it and this was perfect timing, my gut be damned. So, this time, I want to go with the flow. I want us to take our time and figure out how we'll finance another round. I want us to wait and call when we're ready and see when the next available cycle is. Now, once I have a month, I will calculate everything within an inch of its life as I always do. But, until that point, I want to allow for more flexibility in recognition of the fact that God's time isn't necessarily my time.
So, to sum up this really long post in a few sentences--we're trying again, but we don't know when. We are extremely grateful for all the love, support, and prayers we have received since all this began and hope you'll be so kind as to share it with us again as we make our way back to the amusement park for another ride on the roller coaster.
Showing posts with label assumptions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label assumptions. Show all posts
10.22.2012
7.20.2012
Tread Carefully; It's Not Just Making Small Talk
People are nosy. I get that. We want to know what's going on in other people's lives. There are limits, though. We, as a society, have some generalized ground rules about where the boundaries are. For example, most people find it inappropriate to walk up to one another and say, "Hey, how much do you earn at your job?" Similarly, health issues are generally off-limits. And, with the exception of procreation-related exceptions, people's sex life is generally off the table. It's those procreation-related exceptions I want to talk about today. Excuse me whilst I step up onto my soapbox.
For starters, the following questions (and any variants thereof) are not appropriate and should not be asked by anyone other than a VERY close friend or relative and maybe not even then. Why? Because although it seems like a harmless question to you, it may bring up all kinds of nightmares for the other person. You won't intend to, but it will happen all the same. Furthermore, their answer might require them to reveal far more about themselves than you or they want. So, quite simply, follow two simple rules: Don't Assume. Don't Ask.
1) Are you planning to have kids? When are you going to have kids? Why don't you have kids?
2) Are you going to have any more kids? Is this your only one?
3) Are you going to try for a boy/girl?
4) Now that you have one of each, are you done?
5) Aren't you done having kids yet? Don't you think you're stretched a little thin? Are all of those yours?
Underlying each of these questions is an assumption that we need to get rid of.
The first is our belief that any of this is our business. It's not. Just as you don't have any say in the choice of job, house, food, clothes, or voting habits of anyone else, you don't have any say in the whether or how many children a couple has. And, it's not just making polite conversation. It's nosy and intrusive. Whether and how many children someone has is personal, intimate, and potentially involves religious beliefs and medical issues. Unless they offer, you don't ask.
The second is that everyone who is married is planning to have kids. They are not. So asking if/when they are planning to have them is inserting yourself into the couple's private decisions. Butt out. Besides, they may be struggling with infertility and your question will only rip open that gaping wound and make them feel more inadequate than they already do. So, don't.
The third is that anyone without kids didn't want them. Infertility prevents many couples from ever having children. Although infertility treatments and adoption can provide solutions for some couples, neither is a guarantee, and either or both can be cost prohibitive.
The fourth is that everyone who is pregnant is happy and wants to share. We all know there are unplanned pregnancies, pregnancies from incest or rape, and otherwise difficult pregnancies. There are also women who are gestational carriers. Asking intrusive questions about the due date, gender, and whether it was an accident is simply not appropriate. If they volunteer in some manner that let's you know it's okay, that's different. But don't be the one to bring it up.
The fifth is that there is something wrong with choosing to stop at one child. If a parent feels financially, physically, or mentally overwhelmed by one child, we should give them props that they recognized that and stopped after one rather than getting in way over their heads with more. Just because you felt the same way and managed to make it work when more came along is irrelevant. They aren't you. They are making the best decision they know how for themselves. Let them and leave them the heck alone.
The sixth is that somehow two is the perfect number of children, particularly if you have one boy and one girl. Electing to have more than two is, again, a choice left up to the parents. You have no say. Along these same lines, whether parents stop at 3, 4, 5, or more is also none of your business. Maybe they have religious objections to birth control. Maybe they just love children. I don't care if you are witnessing them in a situation where they are overwhelmed. It doesn't give you license to question their decision. Perhaps it's just a bad day. The point is, you don't know, so don't assume that you do and make remarks based on those assumptions.
The seventh is that parents deep down really want a boy and a girl. I have many friends and relatives who have 2 or 3 kids who are all the same sex. And every last one of them will tell you that they do not love their children any more or any less because they are boys/girls. However, if a couple decides to keep having kids until they do get a particular gendered child, so what. Again, none of your business.
The eighth is related to the fifth--that people chose to stop at x number of children. Maybe they did. But, maybe, they tried everything they could to have more and it never worked. I know of someone who wanted four children, but infertility struck after the third. It's not that she didn't love the children she had, but she felt incomplete. It's the same for people who wanted two only got one, or who wanted one never got any. Just because someone has a child, or two, or three, or whatever, doesn't mean that infertility and miscarriage don't affect them. So don't assume that a couple knowingly chose to have x-number of children.
The ninth is that choosing to have kids, working to have kids, and raising kids is the same for everyone. It's not. Whether a couple that never wanted children discovers they are pregnant and must choose whether to give the child up for adoption; or a couple that easily got pregnant with their first suffers from infertility and never manages to have a second; or a couple has five children because they have religious objections to birth control; or a couple undergoes IVF and has triplets; or, or, or, or, or, the circumstances that cause them to become, or not become, parents are different and every couple has to make its own choices based on their backgrounds and their lives. It's not your life, so it's not your choice. Unless they ask you what you would do/did, don't volunteer it. It doesn't matter.
From my perspective, there's only one assumption we all should make. Unless we are invited into the conversation by the couple, we need to assume that it is none of our business and not ask any questions. And, if they do invite us in, we need to tread carefully, watch out for our assumptions, and think before we open our mouths.
For starters, the following questions (and any variants thereof) are not appropriate and should not be asked by anyone other than a VERY close friend or relative and maybe not even then. Why? Because although it seems like a harmless question to you, it may bring up all kinds of nightmares for the other person. You won't intend to, but it will happen all the same. Furthermore, their answer might require them to reveal far more about themselves than you or they want. So, quite simply, follow two simple rules: Don't Assume. Don't Ask.
1) Are you planning to have kids? When are you going to have kids? Why don't you have kids?
2) Are you going to have any more kids? Is this your only one?
3) Are you going to try for a boy/girl?
4) Now that you have one of each, are you done?
5) Aren't you done having kids yet? Don't you think you're stretched a little thin? Are all of those yours?
Underlying each of these questions is an assumption that we need to get rid of.
The first is our belief that any of this is our business. It's not. Just as you don't have any say in the choice of job, house, food, clothes, or voting habits of anyone else, you don't have any say in the whether or how many children a couple has. And, it's not just making polite conversation. It's nosy and intrusive. Whether and how many children someone has is personal, intimate, and potentially involves religious beliefs and medical issues. Unless they offer, you don't ask.
The second is that everyone who is married is planning to have kids. They are not. So asking if/when they are planning to have them is inserting yourself into the couple's private decisions. Butt out. Besides, they may be struggling with infertility and your question will only rip open that gaping wound and make them feel more inadequate than they already do. So, don't.
The third is that anyone without kids didn't want them. Infertility prevents many couples from ever having children. Although infertility treatments and adoption can provide solutions for some couples, neither is a guarantee, and either or both can be cost prohibitive.
The fourth is that everyone who is pregnant is happy and wants to share. We all know there are unplanned pregnancies, pregnancies from incest or rape, and otherwise difficult pregnancies. There are also women who are gestational carriers. Asking intrusive questions about the due date, gender, and whether it was an accident is simply not appropriate. If they volunteer in some manner that let's you know it's okay, that's different. But don't be the one to bring it up.
The fifth is that there is something wrong with choosing to stop at one child. If a parent feels financially, physically, or mentally overwhelmed by one child, we should give them props that they recognized that and stopped after one rather than getting in way over their heads with more. Just because you felt the same way and managed to make it work when more came along is irrelevant. They aren't you. They are making the best decision they know how for themselves. Let them and leave them the heck alone.
The sixth is that somehow two is the perfect number of children, particularly if you have one boy and one girl. Electing to have more than two is, again, a choice left up to the parents. You have no say. Along these same lines, whether parents stop at 3, 4, 5, or more is also none of your business. Maybe they have religious objections to birth control. Maybe they just love children. I don't care if you are witnessing them in a situation where they are overwhelmed. It doesn't give you license to question their decision. Perhaps it's just a bad day. The point is, you don't know, so don't assume that you do and make remarks based on those assumptions.
The seventh is that parents deep down really want a boy and a girl. I have many friends and relatives who have 2 or 3 kids who are all the same sex. And every last one of them will tell you that they do not love their children any more or any less because they are boys/girls. However, if a couple decides to keep having kids until they do get a particular gendered child, so what. Again, none of your business.
The eighth is related to the fifth--that people chose to stop at x number of children. Maybe they did. But, maybe, they tried everything they could to have more and it never worked. I know of someone who wanted four children, but infertility struck after the third. It's not that she didn't love the children she had, but she felt incomplete. It's the same for people who wanted two only got one, or who wanted one never got any. Just because someone has a child, or two, or three, or whatever, doesn't mean that infertility and miscarriage don't affect them. So don't assume that a couple knowingly chose to have x-number of children.
The ninth is that choosing to have kids, working to have kids, and raising kids is the same for everyone. It's not. Whether a couple that never wanted children discovers they are pregnant and must choose whether to give the child up for adoption; or a couple that easily got pregnant with their first suffers from infertility and never manages to have a second; or a couple has five children because they have religious objections to birth control; or a couple undergoes IVF and has triplets; or, or, or, or, or, the circumstances that cause them to become, or not become, parents are different and every couple has to make its own choices based on their backgrounds and their lives. It's not your life, so it's not your choice. Unless they ask you what you would do/did, don't volunteer it. It doesn't matter.
From my perspective, there's only one assumption we all should make. Unless we are invited into the conversation by the couple, we need to assume that it is none of our business and not ask any questions. And, if they do invite us in, we need to tread carefully, watch out for our assumptions, and think before we open our mouths.
11.24.2011
Assumptions
I have started several posts about our time at the hospital for Lil' Bit's surgery, and may or may not get around to finishing and posting them. For now, we'll talk about today. Today was to be our triumphant return. Discharge day. And it was. Sort of. We are all home and, although totally exhausted, we are doing fairly well. But I relearned a few lessons today.
First, I relearned not to make assumptions. This lesson came upon the discovery that I had, in fact, made a giant assumption. I did not realize I had, but I did. I had assumed that surgery would "fix" my child. Sure, it would be difficult and emotionally taxing and recovery would be hard. But, in the end, surgery would either fix my child, or it wouldn't. I never considered what would be involved during the waiting to find out period. You know, the period where you get to bring them home, but you still have to give them meds. That's right meds. It never occurred to me that when I brought my child home she would be on medication, let alone three different meds multiple times per day. Oh, and did I mention that they all tend to make her vomit? We have learned a few tricks and most of the time they work. But today we had 5 administrations for 3 doses, and lots of "clean up on isle mommy." I hate holding my screaming child and trying to get her to take medication I know she needs. I really hate having to do it 6 times per day. I'm freaked out that I will have to start doing it 8 times a day once the third med finally arrives. Yeah. About that third med. It's one of those black box medicines that I will need gloves to handle because I've signed up for another round of IVF and we will have to use separate syringes and pill crushers for. *sigh*
As I sat on the floor, trying to be calm (but probably failing miserably) during the last medicine administration, I got angry and couldn't quite figure out why. Until, thud, it finally hit me that I had made this giant assumption that once we brought her home, even if she wasn't fixed, we would be done for now. I don't know why I never considered ongoing treatment such as meds, I just didn't. And, quite honestly, I'm just thrilled that she didn't have to come home with an NG tube (and even more thrilled that I didn't have to be trained how to put one in and take one out)!
This leads me to my second assumption. I assumed that I was prepared to have her home. I expected the return home to be a great relief. Instead, I felt the same panic as last year when I brought home a newborn and wondered what the heck I was supposed to do with her. The panic is the same, but the specifics are different: What happens if she still won't drink whole milk or Pediasure? (This issue is the subject of a post in progress about poor planning on my part). What happens when she vomits up the meds at home? How do we get her to take them when all the tricks we learned failed? How long after taking the meds does vomiting count as not having gotten the dose? (Apparently, the answer to this for our purposes is 20 minutes).
All of these are difficult things to handle by themselves. Doing them on little sleep, after a long day of travel, with nerves and emotions still raw from 2 1/2 weeks of adrenaline and anxiety, is damn near impossible. And yet, we managed to get her meds in her, give her a bath, and get her to bed. We have overnight meds we have to set an alarm for and lots of other challenges ahead of us. We're creating a chart so we can track and make sure we have given her all her meds-- a necessity, since we're lucky to remember our own names these days.
But we're home. And she's doing amazing. And we're taking things one day at a time. Which is, in fact, the only way anything can be done. We live life, whatever challenges, joys, successes, and sorrows come our way, the only way we can. One day at a time. One minute at a time. One moment at a time. Sometimes, though, it takes a giant 2x4 upside the head to remember that lesson. And man, do I have quite a headache.
First, I relearned not to make assumptions. This lesson came upon the discovery that I had, in fact, made a giant assumption. I did not realize I had, but I did. I had assumed that surgery would "fix" my child. Sure, it would be difficult and emotionally taxing and recovery would be hard. But, in the end, surgery would either fix my child, or it wouldn't. I never considered what would be involved during the waiting to find out period. You know, the period where you get to bring them home, but you still have to give them meds. That's right meds. It never occurred to me that when I brought my child home she would be on medication, let alone three different meds multiple times per day. Oh, and did I mention that they all tend to make her vomit? We have learned a few tricks and most of the time they work. But today we had 5 administrations for 3 doses, and lots of "clean up on isle mommy." I hate holding my screaming child and trying to get her to take medication I know she needs. I really hate having to do it 6 times per day. I'm freaked out that I will have to start doing it 8 times a day once the third med finally arrives. Yeah. About that third med. It's one of those black box medicines that I will need gloves to handle because I've signed up for another round of IVF and we will have to use separate syringes and pill crushers for. *sigh*
As I sat on the floor, trying to be calm (but probably failing miserably) during the last medicine administration, I got angry and couldn't quite figure out why. Until, thud, it finally hit me that I had made this giant assumption that once we brought her home, even if she wasn't fixed, we would be done for now. I don't know why I never considered ongoing treatment such as meds, I just didn't. And, quite honestly, I'm just thrilled that she didn't have to come home with an NG tube (and even more thrilled that I didn't have to be trained how to put one in and take one out)!
This leads me to my second assumption. I assumed that I was prepared to have her home. I expected the return home to be a great relief. Instead, I felt the same panic as last year when I brought home a newborn and wondered what the heck I was supposed to do with her. The panic is the same, but the specifics are different: What happens if she still won't drink whole milk or Pediasure? (This issue is the subject of a post in progress about poor planning on my part). What happens when she vomits up the meds at home? How do we get her to take them when all the tricks we learned failed? How long after taking the meds does vomiting count as not having gotten the dose? (Apparently, the answer to this for our purposes is 20 minutes).
All of these are difficult things to handle by themselves. Doing them on little sleep, after a long day of travel, with nerves and emotions still raw from 2 1/2 weeks of adrenaline and anxiety, is damn near impossible. And yet, we managed to get her meds in her, give her a bath, and get her to bed. We have overnight meds we have to set an alarm for and lots of other challenges ahead of us. We're creating a chart so we can track and make sure we have given her all her meds-- a necessity, since we're lucky to remember our own names these days.
But we're home. And she's doing amazing. And we're taking things one day at a time. Which is, in fact, the only way anything can be done. We live life, whatever challenges, joys, successes, and sorrows come our way, the only way we can. One day at a time. One minute at a time. One moment at a time. Sometimes, though, it takes a giant 2x4 upside the head to remember that lesson. And man, do I have quite a headache.
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