Letters to a Young Poet

I wanted to share a handful of quotes from Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet that have stuck with me over the years, and some of which repeatedly come to mind when I am in a difficult place. Perhaps I should re-read the entire book...

“The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.”

“We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it.”

“Do not assume that he who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, he would never have been able to find these words” 

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

[The following is my favorite passage of the entire book. I have written it out by hand a number of times to reinforce my memory of it and I refer back to it whenever I am feeling suffocated by my fear of change.]

“Why do you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any misery, any depression, since after all you don't know what work these conditions are doing inside you? Why do you want to persecute yourself with the question of where all this is coming from and where it is going? Since you know, after all, that you are in the midst of transitions and you wished for nothing so much as to change. If there is anything unhealthy in your reactions, just bear in mind that sickness is the means by which an organism frees itself from what is alien; so one must simply help it to be sick, to have its whole sickness and to break out with it, since that is the way it gets better.”

― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

In Which I Apologize

For not posting more often and in greater detail about the mental contortions I am going through in the process of considering donor egg IVF versus choosing a childfree future. I feel like there are so few of us in this community who reach this branch in the road, that I ought to do a better job of representing the experience. Suffice it to say that things are difficult to articulate. And all very repetitive at any rate.

However.

My BFF came for a visit at the end of February. We hadn't seen each other in over a year and it was wonderful. I had been a little nervous because she told me last Fall that she and her husband were going to start TTC#2 in December and I was dreading a surprise announcement. To be honest, I wonder if they are trying again so soon after their first because of what she's seen me go through. She is only a couple of years younger than I am and she's no dummy. I was worrying needlessly.

We went to breakfast her first morning here and had long heart to heart about where we are/aren't with treatments and I gave her a quick rundown of the realities of donor egg IVF and some background on our consideration of a childfree future. As always she was interested, respectful and supportive. We also talked a lot about her experiences as a first time mother, all cards on the table. She didn't have it easy and unfortunately, she didn't have anyone nearby to provide a reality check, so it was probably harder on her than it needed to be. I feel sad about that... only that I couldn't be that supportive outside observer because I wasn't there day-to-day.

Her second morning here, we were sitting at the dining room table with our morning coffee and chatting. She took a deep breath and told me she'd been laying in bed thinking while she waited for me to wake up. She had decided that she wanted to talk to her husband about donating her eggs to us after she was done with Baby #2... if we would want them.

I almost fell off my chair.

I suspect my immediate response was a little lackluster, if only due to the shock. How fucking cool is THAT?! Realistically, it will probably not be feasible. But damn, she's awesome. I've talked to Prof about it and he is open to the idea, so why not feasible? Well, she is already 37 and she still wants to get Baby #2 first. That could put her at my current age before she's ready to start. Her husband may not be OK with it and that's totally his prerogative. Since we aren't blood relatives, there might be actual medical/biological impediments - I have no idea. My clinic might not go for it for any number of reasons.

But she had the idea. All on her own. She was already like the sister I never had. If I got pregnant using her eggs, we would be even more like family than we already are. It would amazing.

You know what? Even if I don't get pregnant using her eggs... it's still amazing.

How Do You Say...?

It was only meant to be a quick tweet to let @IVFandMe know that I was feeling the same way she was. I'll be honest... since stopping treatment, I've filtered the number of Twitter accounts I normally see in my feed to about 15. I just can't handle any more than that. So, I forgot how many Twitter followers we had in common and suddenly we're in the middle of a whole discussion and I am reminded that once our words leave us, they are open to interpretation. Don't get me wrong, no one was upset. They were all trying to be supportive and encouraging, but the thing that startled me was just how frustrated I felt when I realized that only a few of the tweeps who joined the conversation appeared to actually understand where the original comment was coming from. And to be fair, perhaps that was just MY misinterpretation.

But it only served to highlight the point I was making in the first place.

I have reached a place where I'm not sure how I fit in amongst my IF friends. Like @IVFandMe said: Still infertile but no longer trying, no more treatments, no foster/adoption, no baby loss from which to recover. Facing the rest of my life stretched out in front of me childfree by circumstance. I am by no means alone, but let's face it. MOST of us in the IF community end up with a child one way or another. I feel bad that I have a hard time providing much support to the rest of you because I'm still working so hard to wrap my mind around my current reality and I don't know when it's going to get any easier.

I hate to come across as ungrateful for the support, but I'm not looking for sunshine and platitudes. Don't worry, I don't feel like I "gave up" and I know that even those of us who go on to hold our babies remain infertile at heart. I know I'm not alone. But the struggle I am facing right now is entirely in my head and I'm the only one that can fight it. I definitely feel like the odd man out and I'm having trouble seeing much point to being here.

Overworking It

We have officially had too much time to think about this, and we're not done yet.

Our debate between Donor Egg IVF and living child-free is not centered around our comfort with using a donor. It is centered on whether or not we want to be parents.

Let me be clear, we are both uncertain. As in nearly all things, we are in complete agreement, on the the same page (even the same sentence). Our synchronicity is alarming, and not a little counterproductive at this point. This is not a situation where one of us wants to move one way and the other is pulling in a different direction. We are standing together at this intersection, hand in hand, and scared to move for fear of getting it wrong. I mean, the scenery at this particular intersection isn't that bad and the traffic is manageable...

My thoughts, feelings and desires fluctuate wildly by the hour. I am not exaggerating. If we stop now, say no to donor eggs and proceed child-free... are we robbing ourselves of a beautiful future or saving ourselves a lifetime of heartache? There are so very many things that could go wrong, and at any number of points in pregnancy or childhood. Admittedly, most people never have to confront these nightmares in person. But let's face it, we've had it rammed home again and again and again over the last three years... We are NOT Most People. God knows there are no guarantees that "overcoming infertility" means living happily ever after.

First thing in the morning, when I've just woken up but am still exhausted from a crappy night's sleep and I'm already running late only ten minutes into my day, I think there's no way I would survive parenthood with my soul intact. Same thing goes for Saturday afternoon and there are more household chores than I have energy to tackle with Prof tied to his desk working against a deadline, much less the thought of childcare. I can't even keep the dust bunnies out of my own bedroom, I'm not fit to be someone's mother.

Child-free is the path of least resistance. It is the default future should we fail to act. Is it somehow more acceptable if we didn't necessarily "choose" that future? If someone came to us and told us we had reached the end of our road and we would not be able to have children no matter what, we would be fine. It would be a relief to be off the hook and able to walk confidently into the future. Sometimes I feel like I'm focusing on the crappy parts of parenthood, just so I can convince myself it's OK not to want it, to make it hurt less to not have it.

On the other hand, when I get a moment to pause in my day and note some of the more amazing things in the world (like fireflies and spring blossoms and the first snow of the season), I think how incredible to see all of those things again through the eyes of child. When Prof starts rattling on about something science-y, as he is wont to do, I think what fun he would have explaining our world to a little one. When BFF(B)'s youngest comes running full speed to where we are chatting in her kitchen, just to ask for a hug before tearing back to the living room to play again...

If we had conceived on our own shortly after ditching the birth control, we would have been nervous but thrilled. And we would have rolled confidently into that future, certain that there was nothing we couldn't handle together. There are times when I imagine our possible child and I feel like my heart (my literal heart, not my mind or my soul) is swelling to the bursting point with pain because I might never meet him/her. It's an uncontrollable, physical pain that brings tears to my eyes no matter where I happen to be.

Infertility has stolen our innocence, our dreams, our confidence. It has also given us a bond even stronger than we imagined we could have, it has made us thrive as a team in ways we should be proud of.

One of our primary fears for a successful pregnancy is what effect it will have on our relationship. And before you ask, yes of course we considered that before we ever threw away the birth control. But this is what infertility does to you. It makes you question every little thing in much greater detail than you ever have before, in a constantly repeating loop. Our marriage, our relationship, is so incredible, even after infertility. If we can grow closer and stronger through all of this, why should it be any other way with parenthood?

The whole genetic link factor really doesn't matter to me (I suppose I should say MY genetics... I want Prof's genes represented). I see donor egg as something like baking a cake. Except at the last minute, I have realized I'm out of eggs and have to pop over to a neighbor's house to ask for a few of hers. It's still my recipe, I'm still the one baking the cake, I still get to call the end product my own. One of my personal fears, and it's not a small one, is what if my DE teenager decides I'm not their "real mom"? What if they decide they need to try to locate that "real mom", difficult though that would be with an anonymous donor? What if, in my child's eyes, those genetics end up being really important? I feel like this is just the merest tip of the iceberg that adoptive couples face.

*Light Bulb* Any good books on adoption that might help me process this particular fear?

Are you now as confused as I am?

Obligatory New Year Post

I hate New Year's Resolutions. I feel strongly that any project worth committing to shouldn't need a special calendar date to launch, and most resolutions just end up making us feel like failures anyways. With that in mind, for the first year in I don't know how long, I have decided to make a few resolutions of my own. These should be fairly easy to keep, they will make my little world a better place and if I slip up... I won't have to feel TOO bad. In 2012, I am committing to:

1. Talk to my parents every Sunday.
2. Send my Grandma a card and a photo at least once per month.
3. Take at least one photo of Prof and myself per month.
4. Get myself a new job title, one way or another.

There. I've written it down. Now I just have to do it.