Yesterday marked the beginning of week 12 of Trish's pregnancy, and something really, really, really, really cool happened. We got to hear the baby's heartbeat. It was great timing, too.
It is so very easy to lose sight of how amazing all of this is. I can get caught up in financial worries, preparation worries (everything from can I get the nursery ready to can we train the dog to go easy around the child to just how good of a father am I going to be), Trish worries (is her energy level going to increase, is her nausea ever going to get better, etc.), everyday job stress and film project needs. Add to that just being dog tired and a high 90's heat wave, and excitement goes quickly out the window.
And then we hear a rapid heartbeat (162 beats per minute; which we are told is just right), and excitement flies right back in the window. Here's hoping I can keep it around, at least for another 6 weeks when we get another ultrasound. Not just any ultrasound, either. The gender discovery ultrasound. Which is the only thing I can think of that would make me more excited the hearing my child's heartbeat.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Movement
Trish had an Ob appointment yesterday and there were all sorts of goodies. First it appears our home calculated due date has been revised and the official due date is Feb. 6th (we had figured the 8th).Also, they conducted another ultrasound, and we are starting to see more of a baby. It has more than doubled in size, but is still only 2 centimeters long. Little Tigger has a head (upper right pointing towards the top right corner), a torso and hands and feet, though arms and legs have yet to develop. The best we can figure from the fuzzy picture (and I have scanned these as high resolution as I can; sorry they are not better quality) is that the baby is facing you as you look at the picture. Trish said that the baby was moving around a lot, and even waving one hand.
Apparently, here in week 8 of development:
This just fascinates me, beyond the fact that it is my child. It amazes me to think that we all started like this, no bigger than a kidney bean and yet developing neural pathways that will form the basis for our thoughts, memories and everything else for the rest of our lives.Webbed fingers and toes are poking out from your baby's hands and feet, his eyelids practically cover his eyes, breathing tubes extend from his throat to the branches of his developing lungs, and his "tail" is just about gone. In his
brain, nerve cells are branching out to connect with one another, forming primitive neural pathways.
Anyway, we won't have another ultrasound for another 10 to 12 weeks, which will be the gender revealing ultrasound. (Yes, we do want to know.) In the meantime, the doc says everything about Trish and Tigger seems right on target. Trish is getting pretty tired of the nausea and the hunger and the fatigue, but is hopeful they will be ending in the near future. Fingers crossed.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Notes from a First Father's Day
A few points to mention from my first Father's Day:
- Trish was kind enough to take the dog on its 5:30 a.m. walk so I could get a little extra sleep, but she might have pushed it too hard as she ended up with her worst day of morning sickness yet;
- We had to ensure the dog is over her bout of diarrhea and convince her that the bland rice and chicken we were feeding was good and good for her;
- We enjoyed brunch with my whole family celebrating the day and my brother Tom's birthday and loving the time with my one year old nephew without the "will that ever be us someday" filter;
- The first two Father's Day cards I ever received were both Homer Simpson cards and I am wondering if that is some kind of sign - or hint;
- Went to the Mariner's game with my Dad and realized - again - how much I like spending time with him and hoping like hell enough of his dad skills have rubbed off on me or else the next 30 - 50 years are going to be very rocky;
- Then out to dinner with Dad, Mom and a revitalized Trish, just enjoying the family time;
- And finally, I was left wondering why isn't Father's Day a three day weekend.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The most amazing sight ever
People at work are laughing at me because I am so excited over a fuzzy picture of an oblong that is .74 centimeters long. I keep telling them that the still picture doesn't do it justice. You have to see the live version so you can see the heart beating a mile a minute.Or maybe it is only because the little .74 centimeter fuzzy oblong is my unborn child. And seeing the heartbeat of my unborn child is truly amazing no matter what the little oblong looks like.
Trish is due Feb. 8th. She is tired, nauseous, excited and giddy. And beautiful. The nurse today said everything looks perfect - the heart rate, the size, the yolk sack. (That's the circle at the very center; it supports the fetus until the placenta is fully formed. The oblong to the left is the fetus.)
At a later date, I will probably give more details on what happened, how we found out, lessons learned from the struggles, and all the rest. But for right now I am just going to revel in the fuzzy little oblong.
I'm going to be a father. How cool is that?
Thursday, June 11, 2009
A couple of quick things
Now that the torture post is out of the way, I think I need to make up for lost time and get with the posting. So a few items that warrant your attention.
First, get well soon, Todd (and thank you for not infecting Trish or me), if for no other reason than the sanity of your wonderful fiancee.
Second, I really don't have a second but these things seem to work best in threes and I wanted to build up to the next one.
Third, final and most important, congratulations niece Madeline and nephew David. Madeline graduated this last weekend from Central Catholic High School in Portland. The whole family visited for the weekend to see her matriculate as well as to see if Rose Princess Madeline would be crowned Rose Queen. (Alas, no, but it went to one of her best friends of the group, so that's a plus.) She may not have won the crown, but she did snag a couple of scholarships and is heading to Seattle University this fall.
David graduates from All Saint's School today and is heading to Central Catholic himself this fall. (And David, good timing. Nothing is worse than being a Freshman in high school while a sibling is a Senior. Trust me on this one. And Tom, no "Gee, I don't remember that at all" comments on this one.) Turns out it is not just the family that thinks David is smart. One of his classes next fall will be Honors Geometry/Trigonometry. (I took regular old Trig as a Junior and never touched math again.) That is something you would expect an exceedingly geeky kid to take, but David didn't get any of his Uncle Dan's genes in that regard and is pretty damn cool. So I envision a scenario where David teaches all the geeky kids how to be cool by being comfortable with themselves and they teach David.... well, not math, because her clearly knows that, so I don't know what they teach David and since I cannot finish this little scenario I will distract you with a Real Genius clip as a cautionary note to David about studying too hard.
First, get well soon, Todd (and thank you for not infecting Trish or me), if for no other reason than the sanity of your wonderful fiancee.
Second, I really don't have a second but these things seem to work best in threes and I wanted to build up to the next one.
Third, final and most important, congratulations niece Madeline and nephew David. Madeline graduated this last weekend from Central Catholic High School in Portland. The whole family visited for the weekend to see her matriculate as well as to see if Rose Princess Madeline would be crowned Rose Queen. (Alas, no, but it went to one of her best friends of the group, so that's a plus.) She may not have won the crown, but she did snag a couple of scholarships and is heading to Seattle University this fall.
David graduates from All Saint's School today and is heading to Central Catholic himself this fall. (And David, good timing. Nothing is worse than being a Freshman in high school while a sibling is a Senior. Trust me on this one. And Tom, no "Gee, I don't remember that at all" comments on this one.) Turns out it is not just the family that thinks David is smart. One of his classes next fall will be Honors Geometry/Trigonometry. (I took regular old Trig as a Junior and never touched math again.) That is something you would expect an exceedingly geeky kid to take, but David didn't get any of his Uncle Dan's genes in that regard and is pretty damn cool. So I envision a scenario where David teaches all the geeky kids how to be cool by being comfortable with themselves and they teach David.... well, not math, because her clearly knows that, so I don't know what they teach David and since I cannot finish this little scenario I will distract you with a Real Genius clip as a cautionary note to David about studying too hard.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Once again,
what Trish said.
The thing about this (the elevated status of our conception struggles) is that it did not start out this way. Three years ago, when we first started trying, it did not change much of anything. I went and found a new job; Trish finished physical therapy for her wrist; we kept on pushing to create new film projects; we hung out with friends, went out to dinner and movies and generally just enjoyed our lives.
It was only as our efforts kept failing, that it started to grow in importance. And even then, it was in good ways at first. We ate more healthy foods, started buying organic products, etc. But more and more in crept into our lives in ways we did not expect and started taking up huge amounts of time, energy and money. Our social life dwindled rapidly, mostly because we were both so damn tried all of the time; creativity (at least for me) has fled; and grief would sneak up and grab us when we least expected it.
So vacation was great not just to get away from work and the weather, but to get out from under all of this, as well. But it was not long enough, so we are going to take a break this month as well. After that, maybe we will want to get back into it, maybe we will want to take a longer break, who knows. The whole point of the break is that we do not have to figure anything out during it. And we can re-discover the lives we had unwittingly set aside.
The thing about this (the elevated status of our conception struggles) is that it did not start out this way. Three years ago, when we first started trying, it did not change much of anything. I went and found a new job; Trish finished physical therapy for her wrist; we kept on pushing to create new film projects; we hung out with friends, went out to dinner and movies and generally just enjoyed our lives.
It was only as our efforts kept failing, that it started to grow in importance. And even then, it was in good ways at first. We ate more healthy foods, started buying organic products, etc. But more and more in crept into our lives in ways we did not expect and started taking up huge amounts of time, energy and money. Our social life dwindled rapidly, mostly because we were both so damn tried all of the time; creativity (at least for me) has fled; and grief would sneak up and grab us when we least expected it.
So vacation was great not just to get away from work and the weather, but to get out from under all of this, as well. But it was not long enough, so we are going to take a break this month as well. After that, maybe we will want to get back into it, maybe we will want to take a longer break, who knows. The whole point of the break is that we do not have to figure anything out during it. And we can re-discover the lives we had unwittingly set aside.
Friday, March 6, 2009
And away we go
So the final reason it has been so quiet around here recently, more than the video projects, more than the dog, is that the hard won equilibrium I had found around infertility issues has been lost, and how.
I am not going to go into detail now. The nutshell version is that in January it really started to look like we had conceived the old fashioned way and that was pretty damn incredible. When it turned out not to be the case, I kind of, well.... I hit a bit of wall. And I am not sure what to do about it.
So we are going on vacation tomorrow. We are taking a month off from trying to conceive. No IUI, no timed sex, no conversations about what do we do if. Just vacation in the sun. Well, actually at the moment, it is raining pretty steadily in Kauai, but I think we will manage quite well. Worries and problems are being left in Seattle and will be re-looked at sometime after we get home.
Our first week, our room should have wi-fi access, so we will post a few pictures during the course. Not sure about the 2nd week.
Oh, and speaking of pictures, Todd has a few stills from the Duo shoot posted. I have seen the rough cut of the short and it looks great. I'm excited to get the other chapters shot.
I am not going to go into detail now. The nutshell version is that in January it really started to look like we had conceived the old fashioned way and that was pretty damn incredible. When it turned out not to be the case, I kind of, well.... I hit a bit of wall. And I am not sure what to do about it.
So we are going on vacation tomorrow. We are taking a month off from trying to conceive. No IUI, no timed sex, no conversations about what do we do if. Just vacation in the sun. Well, actually at the moment, it is raining pretty steadily in Kauai, but I think we will manage quite well. Worries and problems are being left in Seattle and will be re-looked at sometime after we get home.
Our first week, our room should have wi-fi access, so we will post a few pictures during the course. Not sure about the 2nd week.
Oh, and speaking of pictures, Todd has a few stills from the Duo shoot posted. I have seen the rough cut of the short and it looks great. I'm excited to get the other chapters shot.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Christmas Time Was Here...
...along with much happiness and cheer.
I was worried going into Christmas. The snow had gotten pretty bad; we were pretty well stuck at home for a few days.
We put the best face on it, but I was worried the Portland clan would not make it. But they did, braving snow and ice and giving us the first full Heinrich family Christmas in many years.
There was good food and drink (and I mean really good food), poker and live music, flurries of wrapping paper, a thousand little chocolates and good times in great company.
Plus, it was nephew Leo's first Christmas. He is almost 7 months old, so it clearly meant more to us than to him.... but still he made out like the proverbial bandit with Christmas loot.
And then today, Trish and I went and got our Christmas gift to each other. Her name is Gracie and she is a 2 year old coon hound mix.
And she is making herself at home already. I hope all of you had as much fun the past few days as we did.
I was worried going into Christmas. The snow had gotten pretty bad; we were pretty well stuck at home for a few days.
We put the best face on it, but I was worried the Portland clan would not make it. But they did, braving snow and ice and giving us the first full Heinrich family Christmas in many years.
There was good food and drink (and I mean really good food), poker and live music, flurries of wrapping paper, a thousand little chocolates and good times in great company.
Plus, it was nephew Leo's first Christmas. He is almost 7 months old, so it clearly meant more to us than to him.... but still he made out like the proverbial bandit with Christmas loot.
And then today, Trish and I went and got our Christmas gift to each other. Her name is Gracie and she is a 2 year old coon hound mix.
And she is making herself at home already. I hope all of you had as much fun the past few days as we did.
Monday, December 8, 2008
More Trish Bloggings
So you probably know that Trish has been writing a blog detailing various aspects of our struggle with infertility. For those of you who have wanted to see her writing on something a little more light hearted, now you can.
She is writing for the web site For Single Women in the Entertainment section. She is one of several writers so not all of those articles are hers, but some examples are here and here. It is an ongoing gig, go ahead and bookmark the site and check it out.
She is writing for the web site For Single Women in the Entertainment section. She is one of several writers so not all of those articles are hers, but some examples are here and here. It is an ongoing gig, go ahead and bookmark the site and check it out.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The roller coaster
Updated below.
We have found a rhythm in the roller coaster ride each month as we try to conceive. There is the excitement of trying, the hope and fear as we wait for the results, the disappointment and grief when the results are negative and then we find some new reason to believe it will happen and we get excited all over again.
Since we had the IUI performed, the rhythm is the same only more so. Every dip and rise has been heightened. We examine every little change in Trish's mood and physical sensation for some kind of sign one way or the other. And now that we are coming up on the results days, we have taken it to the nth degree. The worst for me is the beeping of her thermometer every morning. It seems to go on forever and ever until a result flashes. This morning when her temperature was still high, we both exploded into laughter as we have one more day to hope. I don't even want to think about tomorrow's temperature taking.
To the readers who are of the praying variety, rather than praying for us to have a child (which has already been decided this month one way or the other), pray for the two of us not to get too consumed by this roller coaster ride, to keep our heads about us and live each day with hope and faith and love no matter what the results are.
Now if you will excuse, I have to fasten my seat belt. This ride is getting bumpy.
UPDATE: And the disappointment and the grief are intensified as well. Lovely.
We have found a rhythm in the roller coaster ride each month as we try to conceive. There is the excitement of trying, the hope and fear as we wait for the results, the disappointment and grief when the results are negative and then we find some new reason to believe it will happen and we get excited all over again.
Since we had the IUI performed, the rhythm is the same only more so. Every dip and rise has been heightened. We examine every little change in Trish's mood and physical sensation for some kind of sign one way or the other. And now that we are coming up on the results days, we have taken it to the nth degree. The worst for me is the beeping of her thermometer every morning. It seems to go on forever and ever until a result flashes. This morning when her temperature was still high, we both exploded into laughter as we have one more day to hope. I don't even want to think about tomorrow's temperature taking.
To the readers who are of the praying variety, rather than praying for us to have a child (which has already been decided this month one way or the other), pray for the two of us not to get too consumed by this roller coaster ride, to keep our heads about us and live each day with hope and faith and love no matter what the results are.
Now if you will excuse, I have to fasten my seat belt. This ride is getting bumpy.
UPDATE: And the disappointment and the grief are intensified as well. Lovely.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
4 years ago
4 years ago today an amazing woman did an amazing thing: she married me. Amidst the whirl and the confusion of the day; amidst the press of family and old friends and people I had never laid eyes on before that day; amidst all the emotions that seemed like they would overwhelm me at any moment, one thought kept running over and over and over again. "I am so blessed."
Over the course of the past 4 years, amidst the mundane and the struggles and the conflicts and the heartaches, that thought will reappear at least once every day. She will laugh at some corny one liner I toss off, or she will reach out and take my hand, or she will be laying into me during a fight, or she will be crying softly into my shoulder, or she will just smile at me, and the thought will hit me as strong as it did 4 years ago. "I am so blessed."
And every now and then, less often then I used to, I will wonder that this amazing woman did this amazing thing. I will shake my head at her foolish choice to spend the rest of her life with me, to raise a family with me, to love me. And the thought is there again. "I am so blessed."Happy Anniversary, Tiger. I love you.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Quick Update
I had an appointment with a urologist yesterday to discuss my low numbers. For a good 24 hours before the appointment I was in a pretty dark head space, certain that he was going to tell me I could never have kids and starting to wonder if the cause was due to some major health issue. Well the good news is that neither of those are true.
The short version is the drop in morphology, while not usual is not uncommon either. A six point drop, while steep, can happen from stress or other factors. He said a retest would probably show another fluctuation. Is the low morphology hurting our chances? Most likely. Is it the single reason we cannot conceive? Probably not. I think his exact words were "don't hang your hat on this one number." The bad news is that they do not really know what causes low morphology (aside from a couple of physical ailments which I do not have); it could have been as far back as the pneumonia I suffered when I was two or three. And there is no particular treatment.
So, what next? I have an ultrasound scheduled this morning (the doc did find a small nodule, most likely nothing for either health or fertility but we are checking it anyway), and Trish is making us an appointment with her Ob Gyn to discuss Intra Uterine Insemination. The doc said our chances with that technique are lowered because of my numbers but he deferred to the Ob who would perform the procedure to see if it was worth our while.
We came out of the appointment with two different reactions. I was greatly relieved to hear that the number can fluctuate and that this is not necessarily the end of the road for us having our own child. Trish was greatly frustrated that we still have no hard answers as to why we have not conceived and what we should do next. (A frustration I share, by the by, but we talked it out and she feels better about it. I am sure she will describe her feelings in more detail on her own blog.) All in all, I feel pretty good this morning.
Oh, and I will continue the posts with Mike's e-mail very shortly.
The short version is the drop in morphology, while not usual is not uncommon either. A six point drop, while steep, can happen from stress or other factors. He said a retest would probably show another fluctuation. Is the low morphology hurting our chances? Most likely. Is it the single reason we cannot conceive? Probably not. I think his exact words were "don't hang your hat on this one number." The bad news is that they do not really know what causes low morphology (aside from a couple of physical ailments which I do not have); it could have been as far back as the pneumonia I suffered when I was two or three. And there is no particular treatment.
So, what next? I have an ultrasound scheduled this morning (the doc did find a small nodule, most likely nothing for either health or fertility but we are checking it anyway), and Trish is making us an appointment with her Ob Gyn to discuss Intra Uterine Insemination. The doc said our chances with that technique are lowered because of my numbers but he deferred to the Ob who would perform the procedure to see if it was worth our while.
We came out of the appointment with two different reactions. I was greatly relieved to hear that the number can fluctuate and that this is not necessarily the end of the road for us having our own child. Trish was greatly frustrated that we still have no hard answers as to why we have not conceived and what we should do next. (A frustration I share, by the by, but we talked it out and she feels better about it. I am sure she will describe her feelings in more detail on her own blog.) All in all, I feel pretty good this morning.
Oh, and I will continue the posts with Mike's e-mail very shortly.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Chipping Away At Faith
I have a had a number of responses from different friends to my struggle with being results oriented, all of them thought provoking and all of them strongly encouraging. There is one response in particular, from my big brother Mike, though that really has me chewing over it. And there is a lot in his response, so I am going to break it up into different parts. This one tackles faith.
Mike wrote:
I do believe that faith has to be more than "I get rewarded so I believe in you." Absolutely. In fact, I do not see faith as belief in God per se, but belief that God is loving and has our best interests at heart. So, yes, I agree. But when I do not get what I want, my belief that God truly has my best interests at heart gets damaged. Is that a particularly strong faith? Absolutely not (see Seed, Rocky Soil). Which is one reason why I feel like I need to re-frame the issue away from the results oriented mind set.
Shortly after my nephew Leo was born (who is still adorable, by the by), we had a family barbecue. Now being a new born, Leo wanted to sleep shortly after eating. And being parents, Katie and Jim wanted him to stay awake longer so that all three could sleep through the night. And being a new born, Leo was not happy about that particular plan and made it pretty well known. And being parents, Jim and Katie set about doing what was best anyway, even if they could not explain it to Leo.
Is it fairly obvious that I am Leo in this analogy? Squalling to the world because I cannot get what I want, all the while being held by a loving parent who really does have my best interest at heart, but cannot explain why this is the way it is. I think that is what Mike is telling me. And it makes sense.
Again, we butt up against the how question, which Mike talked about in the e-mail as well and I will get to that in a later post. The short version of where I am on that issue right now comes back to acting analogies again. Sometimes you just have to get out of your own way and let the scene happen.
There is one point Mike made that I disagree with strongly. In no way, shape or form is my brother a coward and I will have words with anyone - anyone - who says otherwise.
Mike wrote:
I'm not one of those who automatically believes that God has a "better" plan for you than you do. But I do believe he has a plan. And since he's bigger and tougher than you are maybe it's time to hear him out for a while. His plans may still suck ... but what choice do we have? You noted that when the results you want don't come through your faith in God gets chipped away. But, is that really faith? "If you come through for me I'll believe in you." ??? I ask this rhetorically as someone who has NEVER had their faith truly challenged. (And considering what a coward I am I pray it never will be).
Isn't faith in God another way of saying, "Lord I trust in you that you have my best interests at heart" and then truly believing it? And that's it. No strings attached?
I do believe that faith has to be more than "I get rewarded so I believe in you." Absolutely. In fact, I do not see faith as belief in God per se, but belief that God is loving and has our best interests at heart. So, yes, I agree. But when I do not get what I want, my belief that God truly has my best interests at heart gets damaged. Is that a particularly strong faith? Absolutely not (see Seed, Rocky Soil). Which is one reason why I feel like I need to re-frame the issue away from the results oriented mind set.
Shortly after my nephew Leo was born (who is still adorable, by the by), we had a family barbecue. Now being a new born, Leo wanted to sleep shortly after eating. And being parents, Katie and Jim wanted him to stay awake longer so that all three could sleep through the night. And being a new born, Leo was not happy about that particular plan and made it pretty well known. And being parents, Jim and Katie set about doing what was best anyway, even if they could not explain it to Leo.
Is it fairly obvious that I am Leo in this analogy? Squalling to the world because I cannot get what I want, all the while being held by a loving parent who really does have my best interest at heart, but cannot explain why this is the way it is. I think that is what Mike is telling me. And it makes sense.
Again, we butt up against the how question, which Mike talked about in the e-mail as well and I will get to that in a later post. The short version of where I am on that issue right now comes back to acting analogies again. Sometimes you just have to get out of your own way and let the scene happen.
There is one point Mike made that I disagree with strongly. In no way, shape or form is my brother a coward and I will have words with anyone - anyone - who says otherwise.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Results Oriented
In acting, you can never be results oriented. If I look at a scene I am going to play, like the final scene between C.S. Lewis and his wife, Joy, in the play Shadowlands, and determine that since it is our final good-bye before her death therefore I have to cry by the end of it, I will kill any chance whatsoever of reaching that emotion. In my effort to cry, I prevent myself from feeling any honest emotions present in that scene. If instead, I commit to just being present in this imaginary set of circumstances with no end result in mind, I open myself up to all sorts of possibilities. I might cry, I might not. I might find myself feeling grief too strong for tears. I might find myself laughing. And if tears do come, they are real tears.
A friend at church was diagnosed several years ago with a malignant brain tumor. It was before I knew him and I do not know the details of it, except that he was told it was 100% fatal. When he found out, he prayed. He did not pray for healing. He did not ask to be cured. Instead, he asked God to help him trust God more; he asked for help so that he could give his family what they needed emotionally; he asked for help in finding the right path forward. He never prayed for the end result. What he found was freedom.
He tells me that before the diagnosis, he was not very happy. He had a vision of his life the way it was supposed to be and he was doing everything he could to get there. His efforts were always falling short in one area or another so he was not happy, despite a loving family, good job, etc. In the process of treatment for the tumor, he discovered how little control he really had over the events in his life, and how his struggle to control those events helped blind him to all of the good things in his life.
This was no a It's A Wonderful Life type realization where he looks back and sees how great everything was. More accurately, in letting go of his need for control he was free to fully experience the life he had. Much in the same way letting go of the need to cry at the end of the scene would free me up to experience a full range of possible emotions. Now, without that need for control, he is free to more fully appreciate his wife and his daughters and his grandchild and his friends and his community and his work and his play. Every day he wakes up excited to see what might happen. He told me on Sunday that the tumor was the best thing that ever happened to him.
The similarities between his situation and mine are striking to me. Like him, I am trying desperately to make my life the way it should be. There are times when I get so caught up in trying to create a career making movies, that I completely ignore the good things happening all around me. And there are times when I feel that if I do not get the chance to make movies that I will never really be happy. Yikes! And that is just around career and doesn't even touch conception issues.
Also, like my friend, I just received a diagnosis that I was not ready for and that shook me very hard. (Just to be clear, I am not equalling infertility with a fatal tumor, but I am noting a similarity.) Unlike him, my response, as it has been throughout the years we have tried to conceive, has been to pray for the end result. Please, God, give us a child. Please, God, let this month be different. Please, please, please change this situation. And every month that it is not different, that the situation is not changed, makes it harder and harder to look up and see - and experience - the good things in my life. And another little piece of my faith is chipped away.
The question then becomes how do I change it? How do I stop being results oriented? The key would be to let go of the desire for the end result. My friend was willing to accept that he probably would not live out another year. In the acting analogy, I have to accept that tears - or any strong emotion - might not happen; in fact, I have to accept that I might screw up the scene entirely. So in my life, I have to accept that I might never make a movie. And I have to accept that Trish and I might never conceive a child.
Ummm.... yeah....
This is one of those things that is so easy to say and so difficult to do. Some friends and family have been trying to steer me towards this for a while now and I have been resentful of their efforts. It felt like they were telling me I need to give up. I get that letting go and giving up are not the same thing, but it can be extremely difficult to notice the distinction when you see something so clearly and want it so deeply. And believe me, I can see Trish's and my child very clearly. (And in case you were wondering, that child is beautiful.)
My friend who had the tumor tells me that for him there was no conscious decision to see his situation the way he did. It was just how he reacted. He calls it a gift. Other friends of the church going variety, reassure me that God has a plan for me that is much better than the one I have for me. (I still struggle with the idea of an interventionist God, so this can be difficult.) Friends of the non church going variety offer support and encouragement. In neither case is there any kind of step by step instructions on how to let go, obviously. In acting, I finally started to let go of my need to be good after I screwed up a ton of scenes and got tired of trying.
I am not sure how let go of this desire, this end result, but lord knows I am tried of trying. For now, I am going to change my prayers. Maybe that small start is enough of a crack to effect a change. As C.S. Lewis says in Shadowlands, "That's not why I pray, Harry.... It doesn't change God, it changes me."
A friend at church was diagnosed several years ago with a malignant brain tumor. It was before I knew him and I do not know the details of it, except that he was told it was 100% fatal. When he found out, he prayed. He did not pray for healing. He did not ask to be cured. Instead, he asked God to help him trust God more; he asked for help so that he could give his family what they needed emotionally; he asked for help in finding the right path forward. He never prayed for the end result. What he found was freedom.
He tells me that before the diagnosis, he was not very happy. He had a vision of his life the way it was supposed to be and he was doing everything he could to get there. His efforts were always falling short in one area or another so he was not happy, despite a loving family, good job, etc. In the process of treatment for the tumor, he discovered how little control he really had over the events in his life, and how his struggle to control those events helped blind him to all of the good things in his life.
This was no a It's A Wonderful Life type realization where he looks back and sees how great everything was. More accurately, in letting go of his need for control he was free to fully experience the life he had. Much in the same way letting go of the need to cry at the end of the scene would free me up to experience a full range of possible emotions. Now, without that need for control, he is free to more fully appreciate his wife and his daughters and his grandchild and his friends and his community and his work and his play. Every day he wakes up excited to see what might happen. He told me on Sunday that the tumor was the best thing that ever happened to him.
The similarities between his situation and mine are striking to me. Like him, I am trying desperately to make my life the way it should be. There are times when I get so caught up in trying to create a career making movies, that I completely ignore the good things happening all around me. And there are times when I feel that if I do not get the chance to make movies that I will never really be happy. Yikes! And that is just around career and doesn't even touch conception issues.
Also, like my friend, I just received a diagnosis that I was not ready for and that shook me very hard. (Just to be clear, I am not equalling infertility with a fatal tumor, but I am noting a similarity.) Unlike him, my response, as it has been throughout the years we have tried to conceive, has been to pray for the end result. Please, God, give us a child. Please, God, let this month be different. Please, please, please change this situation. And every month that it is not different, that the situation is not changed, makes it harder and harder to look up and see - and experience - the good things in my life. And another little piece of my faith is chipped away.
The question then becomes how do I change it? How do I stop being results oriented? The key would be to let go of the desire for the end result. My friend was willing to accept that he probably would not live out another year. In the acting analogy, I have to accept that tears - or any strong emotion - might not happen; in fact, I have to accept that I might screw up the scene entirely. So in my life, I have to accept that I might never make a movie. And I have to accept that Trish and I might never conceive a child.
Ummm.... yeah....
This is one of those things that is so easy to say and so difficult to do. Some friends and family have been trying to steer me towards this for a while now and I have been resentful of their efforts. It felt like they were telling me I need to give up. I get that letting go and giving up are not the same thing, but it can be extremely difficult to notice the distinction when you see something so clearly and want it so deeply. And believe me, I can see Trish's and my child very clearly. (And in case you were wondering, that child is beautiful.)
My friend who had the tumor tells me that for him there was no conscious decision to see his situation the way he did. It was just how he reacted. He calls it a gift. Other friends of the church going variety, reassure me that God has a plan for me that is much better than the one I have for me. (I still struggle with the idea of an interventionist God, so this can be difficult.) Friends of the non church going variety offer support and encouragement. In neither case is there any kind of step by step instructions on how to let go, obviously. In acting, I finally started to let go of my need to be good after I screwed up a ton of scenes and got tired of trying.
I am not sure how let go of this desire, this end result, but lord knows I am tried of trying. For now, I am going to change my prayers. Maybe that small start is enough of a crack to effect a change. As C.S. Lewis says in Shadowlands, "That's not why I pray, Harry.... It doesn't change God, it changes me."
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Closed
There were a few hiccups and speed bumps along the way, but we finally closed on the house. Trish and I now own a home. Well, a small percentage of a home, the bank owns most of it. And in between bouts of celebration and holy $*##! what did we do moments, was packing... and more packing, and more packing.
It all feels a little surreal. I suppose reality will kick in on Saturday when we are moving our stuff in. (Anyone who wants to lend a hand on Saturday morning, come on over. It will be a hoot-en-nanny.)
I just need to say again, it would not have happened without the deep generosity of brother Tom and his wife Kathryn. Thanks, guys.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Careful what you wish for
UPDATE: This post has taken a few people by surprise as it is more personal than others I have done. So, just a heads up that there is some information here about me that you probably would not get in casual conversation. But hey, I posted it so it is all right by me if you read it.
I was not going to post about this, but I realized if I don't talk about it more, it will kick around in my head and drive me absolutely nuts, so....
I think I mentioned before that one of the frustrating things about our infertility struggles is that we did not know why it was happening. Testing on both of us had come back normal and the docs were calling it unexplained infertility (which is apparently pretty common). Well that was then. Now, it turns out there is a cause, and that cause is me.
In February of 2007 I had sperm testing done which showed that I was essentially within normal limits. The number was twice the normal but the morphology (shape) was low. The docs felt that these basically off set. (For the record normal number is at least 20 million and normal morphology is at least 14% normally shaped. My original morphology was 8%.) As we went on and continued to struggle, our docs thought is was best to see if we could raise the morphology number up to help increase the chances.
I went in for a re-test last month to see what effect changes in my diet, lowering my stress levels and my vitamin and herb regimen were having. In almost every category my numbers improved, except the one we were trying to increase. My morphology dropped to 2% (abnormal is 4% or lower).
If you want to look at it from a strict numbers standpoint, normal would be 2,800,000 regularly shaped sperm (14% of 20 million); previously I had tested at 3,280,000 normally shaped (8% of 41 million) and now am topping out at 820,000 (2% of 41 million). You look at those numbers and the first thought is, but all it takes is one! And yes, no one is saying it is impossible, just extremely unlikely that we can conceive on our own.
This has rattled me. Hard. Kicked to the nuts with a steel toed boot kind of hard. I feel ashamed, inadequate, angry... hell pick a negative emotion and I have expressed it in the past 24 hours. I feel like God is telling me I am not good enough to be a father. I am jealous of all these... these... these chowder heads who get to have kids of their own with no thought for the consequences of it. I feel guilty. I know, I know. This is not my fault. But that is very easy to say and hard to feel, especially after having comforted Trish's broken heart month after month after month after month after month. (And for the record, the only one feeling that way is me; Trish has made it crystal clear to me that is not the case for her.)
And we soldier on. I am busy pestering my primary doc for a referral a specialist (and missing our old primary doc very badly since he retired). We need more information. We need to know our options. From what we have read to date there is no real treatment for low morphology, aside from what we have been trying (diet, stress reduction, etc. and look how well that turned out). The good news is that while low morphology makes it very hard for the sperm to get to the egg, once there it does not cause issues (nothing wrong with the genetic material; just a funny shaped delivery system).
And while we are doing all of that, I am busy flipping God the bird. We have some issues, God and me. Time to work those out.
In the meantime, if anyone reading along has struggled with male factor infertility, I would really appreciate hearing from you. (Not like I have a ton of readers, but one can hope.) Drop me an e-mail if you would, because I could really stand hearing how you coped with all of it.
**************
I was not going to post about this, but I realized if I don't talk about it more, it will kick around in my head and drive me absolutely nuts, so....
I think I mentioned before that one of the frustrating things about our infertility struggles is that we did not know why it was happening. Testing on both of us had come back normal and the docs were calling it unexplained infertility (which is apparently pretty common). Well that was then. Now, it turns out there is a cause, and that cause is me.
In February of 2007 I had sperm testing done which showed that I was essentially within normal limits. The number was twice the normal but the morphology (shape) was low. The docs felt that these basically off set. (For the record normal number is at least 20 million and normal morphology is at least 14% normally shaped. My original morphology was 8%.) As we went on and continued to struggle, our docs thought is was best to see if we could raise the morphology number up to help increase the chances.
I went in for a re-test last month to see what effect changes in my diet, lowering my stress levels and my vitamin and herb regimen were having. In almost every category my numbers improved, except the one we were trying to increase. My morphology dropped to 2% (abnormal is 4% or lower).
If you want to look at it from a strict numbers standpoint, normal would be 2,800,000 regularly shaped sperm (14% of 20 million); previously I had tested at 3,280,000 normally shaped (8% of 41 million) and now am topping out at 820,000 (2% of 41 million). You look at those numbers and the first thought is, but all it takes is one! And yes, no one is saying it is impossible, just extremely unlikely that we can conceive on our own.
This has rattled me. Hard. Kicked to the nuts with a steel toed boot kind of hard. I feel ashamed, inadequate, angry... hell pick a negative emotion and I have expressed it in the past 24 hours. I feel like God is telling me I am not good enough to be a father. I am jealous of all these... these... these chowder heads who get to have kids of their own with no thought for the consequences of it. I feel guilty. I know, I know. This is not my fault. But that is very easy to say and hard to feel, especially after having comforted Trish's broken heart month after month after month after month after month. (And for the record, the only one feeling that way is me; Trish has made it crystal clear to me that is not the case for her.)
And we soldier on. I am busy pestering my primary doc for a referral a specialist (and missing our old primary doc very badly since he retired). We need more information. We need to know our options. From what we have read to date there is no real treatment for low morphology, aside from what we have been trying (diet, stress reduction, etc. and look how well that turned out). The good news is that while low morphology makes it very hard for the sperm to get to the egg, once there it does not cause issues (nothing wrong with the genetic material; just a funny shaped delivery system).
And while we are doing all of that, I am busy flipping God the bird. We have some issues, God and me. Time to work those out.
In the meantime, if anyone reading along has struggled with male factor infertility, I would really appreciate hearing from you. (Not like I have a ton of readers, but one can hope.) Drop me an e-mail if you would, because I could really stand hearing how you coped with all of it.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
"Long time quiet"
I know it has been a long time since the last post, so this is going to be a long 'un to get you up to speed.
So I mentioned that we did not reach an agreement with the owners of the house we wanted to buy. Coming right after finding out Trish was not pregnant again was tough. Tougher than it seemed at first. And both of us were fighting a certain listlessness.
For me it was centered around the idea that I was going nowhere, fast. In 2006 I set aside acting to take a full time job and give us some more stability while we tried to have a baby. Sure I started producing at that point to keep creative, but acting was/is a much more visceral creative experience and, honestly, more fun. Over two years later, and here I am with no child, working in a job I do not particularly like, production work not moving forward at all, and having given up something I loved doing. I mean I get that being a parent involves sacrifice, so it was something I was willing to do, but to have nothing to show for it? It pissed me off.
Unfortunately, all of this was not crystal clear in the moment. So I was pretty mopey and blue and not much fun to hang around and the problems simmered in the background. It started to come to a boil last Saturday. And that caused its own set of problems.
Over the course of our struggle to conceive Trish and I have worked very hard to keep our relationship strong and not let the frustrations and hurt from the infertility spill between her and me. Well, Saturday we did not do so well there. Without going into details, each time one of us has had a major flare up around infertility issues, the other has been able to put aside their own hurt and anger and offer some support and comfort. Saturday was the first time we both needed that at the same time and could not help the other, which turned into some serious hurt feelings which turned into a pretty lengthy fight. Yes, we worked through it. (Unfortunately, not before an emotional Loyd family dinner that night, which I will get into in a minute.) And yes, we are doing better now.
What comes next we do not know. We had decided to take this month off of active attempts (charting, temperatures, timing, etc.), figuring the stress of the house hunt would probably get in the way anyway. Whether we take a longer time off, proceed to IUI, keep trying the old fashioned way or something else, we just don't know yet. We are trying not to place pressure on the decision and working on ways to prevent a repeat of Saturday. It's just gets tough some times when you have this kind of desire, but we will figure it out.
As I mentioned the festivities on Saturday were complicated by a trip down to Auburn for a farewell dinner for Trish's brother, Chris. Chris joined the National Guard last year and is now shipping out to Iraq, so it was our last chance to see him for more than a year. We joined Chris and his wife and son, Trish's parents, Chris's biological dad and his wife and their son and daughter. Trish's other brother Robert and his family could not make it and their absence was hard. The evening went fine but there was a strong undercurrent of emotion (more than the lingering anger between Trish and me) as everyone was trying not to think about worst case scenarios.
Chris was in the Army before I met the Loyds. Since I have known him, though, he has kicked around from job to job and never seemed very satisfied. Joining the Guard has changed that. He is happier and more confident that I have ever known him. The military is definitely his element and I wish him all the best in it. First things first, though; he has to come home safe.
The good news on that front is that while he shipped out last Wednesday, he will not arrive in Iraq for about 3 months. First, he will be in Wisconsin for 52 days as his unit is brought up to full strength. Then there will be 2-4 weeks in Kuwait for additional training and acclimatization. At that point, he will be sent to Camp Anaconda at Balad Air Base, outside of Baghdad. He will be escorting convoys.
Hopefully, by the time he arrives, recent security gains will solidify. Especially, if Bush setting a timetable for withdrawal helps reduce some of the anti-American sentiment. Keep your head down and your eyes peeled, brother. And come home safe.
Then there was house hunting stuff. We had looked at quite a few more places after ending the offer and almost every place gave use a resounding feeling of "meh." Both of us were getting very tired of looking (and I was very tired of people telling me how exciting it must be, because it was not exciting at all; it was tedious and exhausting and disappointing) and starting to think that this special feeling others have talked about when they walked into the right place was not going to happen for us. We were wrong.
As soon as we walked into this house, we were both giddy. Second and third looks only reinforced it. It is farther away from the center of town than the other, but that is the only drawback in comparison. (And this place will be close to Gary which is a big plus.) DJ, our realtor whom I would recommend to anyone in the Seattle area in a heartbeat, is presenting our offer this evening. After the last round, we know not to take anything for granted, but we have hopes, high hopes, high apple pie in the sky... aahhh, sorry about that. Cheesy songs just fall out of me when I get giddy over something.
In the meantime, I have asked a friend to be a producing partner for me with The Ties like I am for Todd with Duo: A Geek Tragedy. She is thinking it over, but I am half expecting her to say no, just because of all of the stuff going on in her life right now. (Anyone who wants to help produce, please contact the author as soon as possible with resume and three references.) Once Todd is back from vacation (and it is a little surprising how much we missed Todd and Raechelle this last week), he and I will be meeting with contacts of his to see if we can't push Duo a little farther down the financing road. And he, Trish and I will work more on Ordinary Angels, too. And the writing is fun.
And who knows, maybe securing this house will be the first domino that starts a chain reaction. If not... Well, if not, I don't know. I guess I deal with those disappointments if they come to pass. In the meantime, I have hopes. You might even say high hopes, but that would lead us back someplace cheesy, so let's not say that.
So I mentioned that we did not reach an agreement with the owners of the house we wanted to buy. Coming right after finding out Trish was not pregnant again was tough. Tougher than it seemed at first. And both of us were fighting a certain listlessness.
For me it was centered around the idea that I was going nowhere, fast. In 2006 I set aside acting to take a full time job and give us some more stability while we tried to have a baby. Sure I started producing at that point to keep creative, but acting was/is a much more visceral creative experience and, honestly, more fun. Over two years later, and here I am with no child, working in a job I do not particularly like, production work not moving forward at all, and having given up something I loved doing. I mean I get that being a parent involves sacrifice, so it was something I was willing to do, but to have nothing to show for it? It pissed me off.
Unfortunately, all of this was not crystal clear in the moment. So I was pretty mopey and blue and not much fun to hang around and the problems simmered in the background. It started to come to a boil last Saturday. And that caused its own set of problems.
Over the course of our struggle to conceive Trish and I have worked very hard to keep our relationship strong and not let the frustrations and hurt from the infertility spill between her and me. Well, Saturday we did not do so well there. Without going into details, each time one of us has had a major flare up around infertility issues, the other has been able to put aside their own hurt and anger and offer some support and comfort. Saturday was the first time we both needed that at the same time and could not help the other, which turned into some serious hurt feelings which turned into a pretty lengthy fight. Yes, we worked through it. (Unfortunately, not before an emotional Loyd family dinner that night, which I will get into in a minute.) And yes, we are doing better now.
What comes next we do not know. We had decided to take this month off of active attempts (charting, temperatures, timing, etc.), figuring the stress of the house hunt would probably get in the way anyway. Whether we take a longer time off, proceed to IUI, keep trying the old fashioned way or something else, we just don't know yet. We are trying not to place pressure on the decision and working on ways to prevent a repeat of Saturday. It's just gets tough some times when you have this kind of desire, but we will figure it out.
As I mentioned the festivities on Saturday were complicated by a trip down to Auburn for a farewell dinner for Trish's brother, Chris. Chris joined the National Guard last year and is now shipping out to Iraq, so it was our last chance to see him for more than a year. We joined Chris and his wife and son, Trish's parents, Chris's biological dad and his wife and their son and daughter. Trish's other brother Robert and his family could not make it and their absence was hard. The evening went fine but there was a strong undercurrent of emotion (more than the lingering anger between Trish and me) as everyone was trying not to think about worst case scenarios.
Chris was in the Army before I met the Loyds. Since I have known him, though, he has kicked around from job to job and never seemed very satisfied. Joining the Guard has changed that. He is happier and more confident that I have ever known him. The military is definitely his element and I wish him all the best in it. First things first, though; he has to come home safe.
The good news on that front is that while he shipped out last Wednesday, he will not arrive in Iraq for about 3 months. First, he will be in Wisconsin for 52 days as his unit is brought up to full strength. Then there will be 2-4 weeks in Kuwait for additional training and acclimatization. At that point, he will be sent to Camp Anaconda at Balad Air Base, outside of Baghdad. He will be escorting convoys.
Hopefully, by the time he arrives, recent security gains will solidify. Especially, if Bush setting a timetable for withdrawal helps reduce some of the anti-American sentiment. Keep your head down and your eyes peeled, brother. And come home safe.
Then there was house hunting stuff. We had looked at quite a few more places after ending the offer and almost every place gave use a resounding feeling of "meh." Both of us were getting very tired of looking (and I was very tired of people telling me how exciting it must be, because it was not exciting at all; it was tedious and exhausting and disappointing) and starting to think that this special feeling others have talked about when they walked into the right place was not going to happen for us. We were wrong.
As soon as we walked into this house, we were both giddy. Second and third looks only reinforced it. It is farther away from the center of town than the other, but that is the only drawback in comparison. (And this place will be close to Gary which is a big plus.) DJ, our realtor whom I would recommend to anyone in the Seattle area in a heartbeat, is presenting our offer this evening. After the last round, we know not to take anything for granted, but we have hopes, high hopes, high apple pie in the sky... aahhh, sorry about that. Cheesy songs just fall out of me when I get giddy over something.
In the meantime, I have asked a friend to be a producing partner for me with The Ties like I am for Todd with Duo: A Geek Tragedy. She is thinking it over, but I am half expecting her to say no, just because of all of the stuff going on in her life right now. (Anyone who wants to help produce, please contact the author as soon as possible with resume and three references.) Once Todd is back from vacation (and it is a little surprising how much we missed Todd and Raechelle this last week), he and I will be meeting with contacts of his to see if we can't push Duo a little farther down the financing road. And he, Trish and I will work more on Ordinary Angels, too. And the writing is fun.
And who knows, maybe securing this house will be the first domino that starts a chain reaction. If not... Well, if not, I don't know. I guess I deal with those disappointments if they come to pass. In the meantime, I have hopes. You might even say high hopes, but that would lead us back someplace cheesy, so let's not say that.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Happy Birthday, Jim
Happy belated Birthday to brother-in-law Jim. (Still not up on the in-laws birthdays. This is a new thing for me; Tracy was the only in-law for almost 20 years and now look at us.) With these birthday posts I have been telling stories that stretch back years and define our friendships. I have very few stories to tell about Jim. (Well, there was my brothers and sister being incensed and outraged that I asked Jim to the Springsteen concert instead of them; it got to the point where my brothers tried to quiz him to see if he was enough of a fan.) But then, for a guy who makes my sister happy and helped bring a child as cute as Leo into the world, I probably don't need stories. Happy Birthday, "little" brother.
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