Sunday 2 February 2014

The Point of No Return

I've written many posts addressing my frustrations with my friend Myrtle and her lack of understanding toward our infertility, but I found it really hard to process her reaction when I told her about my second miscarriage. She seemed to treat it as if I told her that I lost my iPhone and merely wanted to know how much time I had left on my contract. Husband thought it might be better if he were the one to try to educate her, as a fellow lay person. Apparently, I use too many technical terms...He texted Myrtle to arrange to get together during his trip east. "Is it okay that Husband meets little Myrtle before you do?" Myrtle wrote me seeking my approval. I reminded her that we both met her last year as I rolled my eyes. Sheesh, does little Myrtle have her own booking agent? Husband debriefed me after he had brunch with Myrtle and her husband. "They really don't know anything..." He had to explain the process of IVF in detail multiple times and it seems that the only thing they learned is how lucky they were that everything worked on their first shot. I spoke with Myrtle later that afternoon, but she didn't seem too much wiser. As little Myrtle was crying in the background, she asked "are you sure you want one of these?"

Ordinarily, such a comment would prompt a post about Myrtle's insensitivity, but this time it struck a nerve as I've been having similar thoughts myself. A few days earlier I had dropped Husband off at the airport. The next night I went to went to play tennis after work and came home late. The following morning I ran a 10 K and met up with some swimming friends for breakfast after the race. After doing a few errands, I returned home in the early afternoon and felt like taking a nap. Why not? I didn't have any responsibilities to anyone. As I stretched out of the sofa to indulge in mid-day slumber, I felt reminded that I wouldn't have so much free will with my time if we had a baby. Furthermore, shouldn't I be doing something more substantial with my time than napping?

Every now and then I'll encounter a patient in her late 30s or early 40s who presents to talk about infertility. Sometimes I suspect they're hoping I have an easy answer, rather than hearing it's now or never and the best option is to consult an REI. Some patients decline a referral. I can appreciate their reluctance. One of our medical assistants described that she thinks some couples can reach a point of no return. After waiting so long for a baby, they discover that they feel quite content with their current lifestyle and decide not to disturb the homeostasis. The thought of night time feedings and Saturday morning soccer practices seems overwhelming, while quality sleep and wine tasting trips sounds more tempting. They missed the window of ideal opportunity. Veronica went through this personally. She and her husband tried to conceive for many years, and when she failed to ovulate with Clomid, she declined to seek any further infertility treatments. A year later she came to me for an IUD insertion, noting that she would now be pissed if she were to become pregnant.

A week or so ago, Husband and I went out with some friends. Once a year, my friend H arranges for our group to go to a club in the city that features mashups. Yes, when a DJ combines two (or more) songs into one. It sounds rather lame, but is actually pretty cool. Boston and The Black Eyed Peas becomes "I've Got More than a Feeling." Snow Patrol and The Backstreet Boys yields "Chasing Cars That Way." We arrived just before the bouncer started imposing a cover charge. I recognise that for people 35 and older, getting to the club early is what going to the early bird special at the diner is to senior citizens. You and your friends own the dance floor, and you can just walk up to the bartender when you want another drink. Heck, at this point in the evening, we weren't even the oldest ones in attendance. Yet as the night creeps on, it unfolds like a reverse Cinderella story. More and more people file in and the average age drops rapidly. It gets harder to move; the dance floor becomes a mob scene. Ordering a drink takes at least a half an hour, and you just hope you don't need to use the bathroom. Oh, and to complete our status as crotchety old critics; we were disappointed as the evening was billed as 80s versus 90s, which would lead one to believe a mashup would feature a song from the 80s and one from the 90s. Not every third or forth compilation has at least an 80s or 90s song... Although the music of Miley Cyrus does blend with quite a lot...Confession time: I added 'Party in the USA' onto my running playlist...

When we first walked in, I took note of the 'you must have been born before this date in 1993 to enter' sign. Wow. I am biologically capable of being the mother to the youngest person in the room. Albeit, I would have been an episode of '16 and pregnant'. Still, that thought stuck with me as I saw all these young twenty somethings running around, I'm old enough to be your mother... The thought resonated further, I'm going to be an old mother (if it happens). I'll be in my 50s during the teenage years, and if he or she gets married after the age of 30, I could be 70 at the wedding. When I was in my earlier 30s, I would see first time pregnant patients at the age of 38 or 39 and thought, I'd never be having a baby at that age... This is why I had it all carefully planned out; start trying to conceive at age 35 and if it didn't happen after 2-3 years, then it just wasn't meant to be. After all, I'll never do IVF. Yet sometimes when you start down the TTC road, there seems to be another point of no return. The heart has grasped so firmly to this abstract concept that it's hard to let go.

Like Cinderella, when the clock struck midnight I was ready to go home. Dance clubs weren't really my scene in my twenties, so it felt more awkward to be at one in my (late) thirties. The proximity to so much youth made me feel so much older than I actually am. There was one bright spot to the night. As I was dancing with H and the girls, Husband and his friend were standing in the corner, scoping out the talent. "Ooh, look at her ass!"Husband pointed to his friend. The rear end in question belonged to yours truly. At least I've still got it to the guy who wants it. Get your coat Love, you've pulled.                                            

13 comments:

  1. I think you make some great points in this article. I have always felt that there is a point for me where "enough is enough." I wouldn't presume to say, at this point, exactly where that point is for me, nor do I want to. Nor can anyone say where that point is for someone else. But I think that it's healthy for every couple/individual to at least consider it. I'm pretty sure that if treatments do not lead to a live baby in the next 2 years or so, I'm done. Before we decided on treatment options, I read Melissa Ford's "Navigating the Land of IF" book. She recommends avoiding ultimatums (e.g. "This is the last cycle of IVF ever!") but instead planning to re-evaluate a course of action after so many treatments. She also says don't be afraid to have a plan B, C, D. That made and makes a lot of sense to me, and knowing that we have a plan, and that we know we are not infallible, has really helped so far.

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  2. There are many paths to happiness and I know I could have been happy living child-free. You hit the nail on the head when you said that the heart has such a hold on the concept of becoming a mother that it is extremely difficult to let go. I always told myself that I would know when it was time to let go and by then I would be happy with my decision so there would be no regrets.

    No matter where your path leads I know you will live a full, happy life.

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  3. I know exactly where you are. So hard to know where to draw that line in the sand and stick to it. Wishing you all the happiness in the world…wherever life takes you…even if it takes you to the club on mashup night. ;)

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  4. I try not to think about how old I will be for high school graduations, weddings, or any of that stuff. If my daughters wait to have babies in their 30's who knows if I will even get to meet my grandchildren. It's too depressing to think about. It is a challenge being an older parent. On the other hand, I wasn't ready to have kids until I was in my 30's. I thought it would happen at 35 and not 39, but it is what it is. I had dinner with a former co-worker just before I got pregnant and found out she had also been trying to get pregnant and it wasn't going well. She hadn't been to an RE and seemed very on the fence about whether she was willing to pursue treatment. She said if it didn't happen soon she was going back on the pill because she didn't want to accidentally get pregnant at 40. I remember thinking I would be ecstatic if I accidentally got pregnant at 40. We all have different limits. I always figured I would just "know" if it was time to stop so I never set any sort of time frame or limit to number of treatments.

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  5. Does this mean you are one step closer to cutting Myrtle off permanently? It seems like she is the ditzy sister you never had and you don't feel like you have a choice. As far as "when to say when," I think I will wake up one morning and just know.

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  6. I can totally relate to this. When I was home visiting my family this summer, I saw just how much work my sister and her husband had to put into parenting, and I definitely appreciated my lazy mornings, my "workout whenever" attitude, and my daytime naps. I can't say I ever thought I'd be someone that would put myself through IVF to get pregnant either...and yet here we are. I think deep down we know what we're willing to do and what we're not, or how long we're willing to put ourselves through this. Which varies from person to person, obviously.

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  7. Your "friend" Myrtle doesn't seem to be one you should give to much energy to. I am sorry she is so clueless. I can relate to the feelings of maybe I should be content with my current lifestyle. If having a baby at this point happens, great, but why am I killing myself to get this? Once a baby comes, things will only become more hectic, so why not enjoy my freedom? I don't want to be that OLD mom either. Thank you for this post :)

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  8. "Look at her ass!" is awesome.
    I was told when I was 23 that we may well need IVF, and it took me years to accept that. I think you're right that the heart becomes so attached to the concept of becoming a mom that it gets incredibly hard to let go - it's hard enough to accept that the path to motherhood won't be as we imagined.

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  9. This reminds me of my cousin who is my age and had her first of her four kids at age 16. Her oldest has now graduated from college and here I am, trying to have my first baby. Life is just that; it's different for everyone. Myrtle does sound clueless. Gotta laugh about the last paragraph. You still got it in you. :)

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  10. I love that your husband made an effort to explain things to Myrtle. That is one of the most supportive things I've heard about! Truly. I can relate to reconsidering motherhood and the impositions placed on your freedom. It's hard to admit though. It's like a dark secret I reflect on sometimes. However, I often wonder is it's an escape mechanism to comfort myself, if it doesn't happen.

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  11. Myrtle really does sound insensitive. My mom and sister used to make similar comments to "are you sure you want one of these?" It always seemed kind of condescending to me too, like they were saying they could handle motherhood but was I sure I could? Because I doubt they were saying they regretted their children.
    Anyway... I think what your husband did (meet with Myrtle) was really sweet and supportive. I'm sorry she doesn't get it though.
    I completely see re-evaluating motherhood as we age. I mean-- as much as someone wants a child, I think it's normal to think of our different options as we get older. I also think that, as older parents (or trying to conceive at an older age), we have a lot of other things going on in our lives, and we're able to sometimes appreciate that life can be enjoyable outside of parenthood.

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  12. I think about this often, especially since I just spent a Super Bowl party at a friend's house with two of the most obnoxious kids on the planet. Definitely makes me think.
    However, I have "old" parents. It wasn't bad. Of course, it makes me very sad that if I ever have kids, they will never meet my grandparents, and probably won't even know my parents very well. I was reminded of this while my husband planned his mom's 50th b-day party last spring. He put a ton of work into it and I told him I was impressed. He asked, didn't I do the same for my mom? I told him, um...no. I was probably a huge brat on my mom's 50th, and probably avoided her as much as possible--since I was only 13.

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  13. We had these thoughts too. We never wanted to be "old" parents, but things just didn't turn out the way I had planned. Even while I was pregnant, we questioned if we were really ready for the lifestyle change we were about to get. The problem with starting your family in your late 30's and you've been married for so long (16 years) is that you become set in your routines. With that said, I can also share that I wouldn't trade my current sleepless nights for anything and am so in love with our babies. I regret that we will be the older parents, but I'm glad we have the opportunity to be parents at all. That's just us of course. I'll be following along and rooting for you either way!

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