Father, don't forget the Infertile

My church asked the mothers to stand today.  The priest called all the moms down around the altar for a special blessing.  I was sitting upstairs, but you can bet I busted my ass to get down there to be a part of it.

I included everyone in the mom's prayers.  The church's version felt a little exclusionary.  I noticed certain women who remained seated.  I made sure we were all included in the blessing with the version in my head.  

You don't need a baby in the crib to be a Momma.  You just want one.

On the way out I waited in the long line to ask Father Jack to say some special prayers for the Fertically Challenged.  He gave me an auto response affirming he would, then it seemed to click with him.  He repeated himself, saying he would pray and gave me a real promise to do so, looking me in the eye and hearing my request.

Not for the faint of heart

What does finished feel like.

I have never been good at tracking my own limits.  Binge is a verb I once knew.

When do you stop planning The Next Great Thing.

How do you recognize contentment.

Can you binge on babies.

It hurts when I start to mourn things still in progress.  I get a little teary eyed when he moves up in his diaper size.  I think about the eventual last feeding session with him and my heart seizes.  The finality of it all knocks the wind out of me.

If I master my thoughts and become present in the moment, it is clear.  Actually, it is magnificent.  I have everything I need.  We are finished.  Our family is complete.

It's just that clarity fades when I think I may never come this way again.

Finally, something good to say

I hope this picture makes you happy for the weekend.

Big E's tail is blurry because it is, as always, wagging.

(Laundry left in frame to add a little color.)

Have a good one and be sure to tell the ones you love that you love them.

No one left when they came for me

When did my blog get all holy?

I am finding it harder and harder to keep the church out of my business.

I am in the early stages of collecting agency names to donate our remaining embryos.  I have a handful of criteria.  I want to be able to influence the recipient family based on open adoption terms and consideration of same sex couples.

Aaaaaand: cue the holy rollers.

These sites are riddled with religion.  Seems they care more about "Non Christians Need Not Apply" than anything else.  Some sites boast of being "Religion - neutral".  But it is still there in my face: religion.

Sigh. 

But wait.  Wasn't I just posting it up about me and my new BFF the Catholic Church?  Yeah, but sometimes I wonder what I am doing.  You know how bad Dr. Google is when you are symptom tracking?  Let me tell you it is just as bad when you go looking for more Catholics like me.  All I can find are a bunch of narrow minded jackmongers who are Catholic and spouting anti IVF. 

I don't have a bend to chose same sex couple.  Since we are not one, I assume it might be less likely we would choose one, but I don't want that decision made for me.

I think I might be painting myself into a corner.  Looking for a fight.  I sent emails to all the agencies I could find with a polite one liner email: do you allow adoptions by same sex couples?  The responses are telling.

Everyone assumed I was gay.  Some agencies were respectful and encouraged me to consider another agency.  One ignored my emails.  Multiple emails.  Funny, the response I got from that same agency when I told them I was holding, not buying.

I am tabulating it all and will publish my results.  It seems like the way to avoid the issue is to put a Married Couples Only sign on the door.  What bullshit.

How I wish I was not so combative.  I cannot tell you how much I want to garb my babies in THATS RIGHT I AM A PRODUCT OF IVF GET OVER YOUR HOLY SELF.

On Easter.

I just don't know how my priest had the right to go so very against the grain.

But I actually AM holier than thou

Nobody gets my goat like those Catholics.

Nobody.

You know I am a Catholic, right?

I suppose I take some liberties with the word.  I have said before I consider myself a Catholic, but I am certain there are Catholics out there who would beg to differ - they would say I have no right to call myself a Catholic.

One of the suburbs outside Chicago has a local Catholic church threatening to picket and protest if a new IVF clinic is approved for construction.  No need to link to the story - same old bullshit we have heard before: commoditized children.  A product, not a life.

Clearly these Catholic fools have spent no time actually talking to an infertile family.  The word Product implies it is easy to obtain.  'Yes, please sign me up for one baby.  To go.'

I am here to speak for the Catholic Church.  The one that I belong to; where I consider myself a part of a larger group, reporting up to God who is bigger than the triviality of this post, but here it is anyhow.

I spent many years outside the Catholic Church.  Later as an adult I fell in with a non denominational Christian church.  I got rather geeked up on God.  I attended group bible studies where God was actually something I wanted to learn.  I grew.  I voiced my challenges and settled them with the support of some profoundly brilliant women.  It was a cool time.

No excuses, but then my baby died.  My life was a giant mess.  I would have told God to stick it, but I just didn't care enough to make the effort.  Plus, didn't he know that was what I thought anyhow?

Time passed and I wanted to rebuild the relationship.  I church shopped.  For years.  I did the whole range.  Unitarian to Methodist to Presbyterian to Episcopalian.  More non denominational Christian.  United Church of Christ.  More Episcopalian.  I never once considered returning to the Catholic Church.  A story for another time.

Then God got involved.  Made me share an office with a Catholic at work.

The horror.

I was in the trenches trying to have Baby Jay.  I sure didn't need some snot Catholic coming down on me about my marginalization of life.  Damn if she wasn't my boss too.  More horror.  I had to come clean on the IVF since I was going to miss a lot of work.

Next thing I know, I am learning about God again.  And I am interested.  Huh.  This Catholic is an ally.  She helps me renew my relationship with God.  Pretty heavy.

I talk with Rocco and we decide to open the evaluation up to the Catholics again.  One small issue - they "hate" IVF.  This late entry dark horse of the Catholic Church happened right about the time that the Church came out and said the Nobel Prize awarded to Dr. Edwards, pioneer in IVF, was "misguided".

I call the priest.  Make the appointment.  I am prepared to duke it out with him - what exactly is wrong with my family.  Please help me understand what misguided means cause it is making my blood boil.

You know what he said?

Nothing is wrong.

He asked what is there not to like about a mother willing to pursue her family with such devotion?  He asked me to tell him what part of my story Jesus wouldn't like.

It isn't often I get to speak for Jesus.  Especially to a priest.

I think Catholic is a label only if you make it one.  So yes, Catholics make me really mad, but I am one.

Money that isn't mine

Gah, money and medical procedures.  When will you stop haunting me.

I quit my job.  The terms of our 401k loan are to pay the outstanding balance within 90 days of separation from the firm.  We do have the money to pay off my 401k loan.... cause we are paying it off with Rocco's 401k loan.

I have some money in my bank account in the short term.  A nice, big five figure balance that isn't really mine.  It belongs to the loan.  Yes, technically it is mine, but it is due back in the hands of the loan master, the bank.

It has been burning a hole in my greasy little pocket.

Emmie tore her ACL.  Anyone have any experience with this?  Surgery is the only option and it rolls in at $2100.

I adore her.  She is my original Baby Before the Baby.

Emmie stayed by my side in my bed for 10 days when I didn't get up after the baby died.  I don't remember this time, but my mom did.  Gets me all weepy when I look at Big E.  Good dog.

 

What PAIL gave to me

PAIL.  What a mess, huh?  It pulled off some scabs for me.  

I feel like I have been granted license to open up again.  No one asked me to censor but I did.

I remember my happy frustration when I first started looking for donor egg blogs.  So many of them were "finished" - they were at home with healthy babies.  Quiet blogs.  Infrequent updates.  So very unlike me at the time.

Well hello and welcome to my stale parenting blog.

I didn't want to become that blog.  The one talking about babies and naps and poops.  

I was frustrated by the lack of LIVE ACTION donor egg blogs, but it gave me great comfort.  All these women were getting pregnant!  And taking babies home!

But I still have some shit to sort out.  Anyone who has the heart and time to help me attend to my issues is welcome here.  If you are quietly reading along to form your own plans, you are welcome here.

I am beyond the live action (...for now?).  I have tried to make navigation easier for the new donor egg recipient by listing my milestones.  I am on the other side and now need to dig into some ideas that could hurt to read depending where your heart is day to day.

I don't know if we will transfer another embryo.  

I don't know what agency to use to facilitate the embryo adoption process once our family is complete.

If you are in a place you can read parenting issues that sound down right ungrateful, please stay.  I could use your advice and you can call bullshit when you see it.  If it sucks to read someone with such a divine problem as mine, I understand.

I left a lot of blogs that got pregnant when I wasn't.  I get it.  I sure as hell wouldn't want to read about someone counting her embryos over and over.  I  promise I won't be weighing the benefits of a Gemini over a Libra, but my issues will sound pretty trivial.

All my best every single day,

Roccie