Baby, You’re a Firework

Need a little pump up this morning and this song never fails to do it…. 

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep six feet under?
Screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there’s still a chance for you
‘Cause there’s a spark in you?

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

‘Cause, baby, you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, “Aah, aah, aah”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGJuMBdaqIw&feature=kp

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Young and Infertile

“No one says their vows — ‘through sickness and health’ — and thinks that right after you say them you’ll test that.”

There is nothing I HATE more than hearing “you’re so young.” I am infertile because my body failed me when it should be performing at it’s peak. I am at “that age” and I am one of the only people I know who isn’t pregnant or has a newborn. That’s tough to swallow daily when my life is filled with pregnancy announcements and baby pictures. Bitterness is unfortunately a strong feeling these days.

Infertility is never an easy battle but I have always felt people don’t discuss what it’s like to be young and infertile. HuffingtonPost touched on this, check out the article below. As it mentions, I am not saying my battle is worse it’s just that sometimes it stings a bit harder and in a different way.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/15/infertility-20s-diagnosis_n_1599966.html

Isolation was a real problem for Tullo, who said she lost touch with many of her friends who just couldn’t connect to her experience.  ‘Infertility at any age is difficult, but I do hold a special weakness in my heart for people in their 20s,’ Tullo said. ‘That’s true infertility, when your body fails you at an age when you should be able to get pregnant.'”

Therapy through Music

I am a music person, always have and always will be. There is something about connecting with the music or lyrics of a song and realizing that a random stranger was somehow able to capture your exact emotions in just a few syllables or riffs.

I had a very rocky childhood and my escape was often music. I remember sitting down at the piano, playing through a few music theater numbers and singing until someone else in the house told me to shut up. When my sister would be flying off the handle or my dad would be at bottom of one of his swings I would watch The Sound of Music and curl up dreaming I was singing next to Julie Andrews on the Austrian hillside. I am pretty sure if you would have called me Liesl I would have died.

Back before Glee was cool, I was my own version of Rachel Berry. Yes, I was that over-controlling, demanding, gold star achieving choir star. (I wasn’t as mean or annoying though, I have to clarify that!) Sophomore year I was selected to be in our jazz ensemble, a highly competitive and exclusive group of 12 singers who traveled all over competing in (and WINNING!) a cappella and jazz competitions. I loved it and those three years are some of the BEST memories I have from growing up.

Senior year and college selection time came and my dad offered me one of the only pieces of “adult advice” he has ever given me, “you’re never going to be on Broadway, don’t make music your career.” I didn’t move to NYC and instead pursued a degree in Accounting. Every single day I wonder about life had I packed up my bags and drove across country to purse my lifetime dream instead. I don’t regret the decision I made, after all I wouldn’t have met my darling husband, I simply wonder about what I once gave up.

musictherapyFlash forward 10 years and I just a middle class infertile white girl who has a secret board on Pinterest of outfits and shoes to buy once I am famous. Because you know, that’s really likely. About as likely as me getting pregnant any time soon.

Right now I can’t help but think how much music has helped me along the way. Every now and then a song will move me and really connect with where I am on this journey. Some times they’re deep and moving (Angel by Sarah McLachlan) and other times are totally unrelated and fluffy and the song simply comforted me for some reason or another (Katy Perry’s entire record history, she may be a pop princess but I love that girl.)

I pay a therapist a whole lot of money every week to help me work through things but some days it’s just a little Ingrid Michaelson and a cup of tea on the patio that does the trick! Some days… note the some. I wish I could just invest in a few iTunes cards and feel whole again, but unfortunately I think my problems are bigger than Coldplay.

Making Things Happen

For as much as I love to control things, I am also not afraid to take a risk or try new things. If I want something, I go for it. As my loving husband always says, I just make shit happen.

When I was 17, 10 days after graduating high school, I packed up my Jeep Wrangler and moved to California. I didn’t have my parents to pay my way but I was determined to make something for myself. I started college and got a job, I did what I needed to do.

During spring semester my English teacher encouraged me to apply for a honors study abroad program at the University of Cambridge. I applied the next day, somehow got accepted, and was off to England just weeks later without even blinking an eye. I didn’t know a soul in the program, had never been out of the country and had to pay my own (very expensive) way. But I made it work and still believe it was one of the most influential experiences of my life.

Yet another year later, still inspired from living near a big city, I decided to transfer schools and moved to Chicago in August of 2006. If you haven’t predicted the trend, I didn’t know a soul and I was broke, but I did it. I met the love of my life and paid way too much for a bachelor’s degree – DePaul was yet another jump that was risky but I figured it out.

When my DH moved to Washington, DC after graduation it was no surprise that I wasn’t far behind him. Once in DC I hit my stride… I worked my way through an amazing fellowship, got to experience life at the White House and on the campaign trail, met amazing friends, and settled in as a Director at a small non-profit.

Then on the night of December 15th, 2009 we received a call that we weren’t expecting and still struggle to accept, my amazing father-in-law and husband’s best friend had passed away from a massive heart attack. As expected, our world was rocked and I watched as my husband redefined what he wanted from life. I looked around and knew DC wasn’t the answer and by May 2010 we were headed to Colorado.

This time around it was my DH who hit his stride in Denver. Don’t get me wrong, moving to a whole new area gets tougher and tougher every time you do it and he definitely still experienced a few struggles. But now four years later, he’s in a job he loves during the day and partaking in pretty much every outdoor activity at night and on the weekend. We finally found our niche of friends and usually have more plans than time. Basically Denver finally feels like home – for him.

Sure I think the Rocky Mountains are great but if you know me well, you know I didn’t grow up frolicking around outside or camping. I don’t ski, I can’t fish and have never hiked a 14er. I think my outside time is best served on a patio looking over a pretty park with a giant glass of chilled prosecco in hand. So for me, it’s definitely been an interesting adjustment. Add in the struggles with my health over the past few years and it has been increasingly difficult for me to feel like Colorado is where I belong.

I have spent the last 18 months in a funk, there’s no doubt about it. I had a difficult and very different childhood and I thought that if I did everything right – go to college and work my ass off, get married and be a good wife, find a good job and be given a chance to show what I made of – that everything would finally fall in to place. Surprise surprise… it hasn’t and it is pissing me off. And after reflecting on everything I have done, how hard I have worked to be here today, I realized that I had lost my will to make things happen because they weren’t happening the way I had always expected them to.

So how does one survive and overcome living in a city where you don’t quite fit in, battling infertility, finding a job where I really feel like I can fly? You work. You find a way to improve the situation through action. Simply put, you make shit happen. Make what exactly happen? I don’t know yet, but I am ready.

 

 

 

Nope, Nada, Zilch

I should have known not to get excited, not to let the slight possibility get me worked up. But perfect follicles, perfect timing, perfect lining, two extra days after ovulation, sore boobs, exhaustion and NO spotting for the first time, well, pretty much ever – how can I not get my hopes up?

Woke up yesterday to bright red and cramps that could kill.  I stood in the shower as the water crashed against my back and let the tears flow hard and free. I put my hands on my stomach and cried some more.

I knew what my day held for me and I didn’t want to face it.   I didn’t want my DH to give me his go to “don’t worry, it will all work out.” I didn’t want to sit at my desk all day battling between waves of tears and excruciating cramps. I didn’t want to be around people.

And I hated having to call Dr. J……I had to say it out loud, “I got my period today.” His voice dropped a little and said “I am just so bummed and I know you’re upset. I thought we got it…” Ditto. By the end I am just responding “ok” to everything else he tells me and he knew.

My phone rings today and it’s Dr. J. I knew he was in surgery all day so I was a bit alarmed. “How are you feeling today?  Better I hope. You start again tomorrow and I just want sure that you’re feeling ok.” He didn’t need to call, but he did.

“Yes, I am now. Let’s do this.”