What a gift!

I received a miraculous gift. And I’d like to tell you about it because I could never have planned any of it.  Not that I could have planned most anything that’s happened in my life.

Never in  million years did I think while I was growing up on Long Island that I would move to California and consider myself a Los Angeles girl. Never in the eighteen years that I lived in Los Angeles did I ever remotely consider that I would move myself and my family to Charlotte. And yet here we are and it is wall meant to be. We are Southern.

Since leaving LaLa-land I’ve met world-class writers, illustrators and literary agents and I consider a number of them friends. Here these talented people share their successes and encourage those of us on the path to being published to keep going, while sharing guidance and tips on how to make our dreams come true.

And now I have opportunities to pay it forward. And I am thrilled and so excited about it that I am feeling high. Seriously, I am…and I have new glasses so it’s not my vertigo kicking in. ;P

My inability to have a second child left me with a bundle of love that I felt was going unused. I am not withholding love from my family, my daughter, or my friends, it’s just that there is an untapped glob of love that wanted to attach to someone, for a long time I thought it was for my twice miscarried child.

I carried that love like a clenched fist in my gut. I thought I was keeping it for another baby, but last night I realized that the love I was desperately clinging to was actually grief. And I felt that if I let go of that grief, the failed pregnancies, I’d lose the connection to the soul I thought at first wanted and then rejected me. If I let go of the grief, my saved love would disintegrate and the pregnancies would never have been.

My grief is very hard to talk about, so I didn’t. I went on with my day-to-day life, I made sure to thank God for the life I have, the good fortune, my home, my daughter, my marriage, my relationships with my family, the friends  that I have, the creativity that I have, the book that I wrote, and for the spark of other book ideas that are germinating inside me. I was thankful for the connections I had with other writers. I didn’t want to be greedy. I thanked God over and over for my daughter. I have friends who can never have children. I wanted to make sure God knew I know how good I have it. But still that pain lived in me. I had no scar to bear outwardly so I let it fester internally.

Then last night I received a miraculous gift. On 12-12-12, the fifth night of Hanukkah, I received a message that the baby I lost didn’t reject me. The message was as clear as having a conversation with a friend sitting next to me. The message came from a soul I am connected to. That soul wanted to reconnect with me, to feel loved by me again and remind me it loved me too. It was so beautiful to feel this answer.

I am not broken, defective, or poison. My body doesn’t crave life so much it devours it. I am instead, a loving soul, and that loss was nothing more than reconnecting to love that was and is. And in that message of love, that soul asked for forgiveness for hurting me, much like I have begged it to forgive me for not being good enough to be it’s mother in this life.

No wonder I wrote a book about how souls connect. No wonder I wrote about longing to reconnect, love and spirituality. No wonder I wrapped Life-Like in a mask of snarky humor and limbo in the hopes to unconsciously connect the dots for others.

In the past weeks since sending my query out for Life-Like, I have been searching for a way to help children. My husband and I donated to One Simple Wish, we are sponsoring an orphan in Haiti through H.E.R.O Housing Education & rehabilitation of Orphans, I began mentoring a student, and I joined, donated to, and reached out to a specific girl at Good Friends. I needed to give back.

These donations were the gifts I could give. These were the ways I could pay it forward. And you know what. I can’t pay it forward enough. I’ve learned the smallest message to the right person at the right time is life altering. I woke up today without a pain that has lived inside me for three-and-a-half years.

I could have never planned my life’s path. The challenges I’ve overcome. The losses. The triumphs. The physical places I’ve lived that led to connections that benefit me. But I am truly blessed to follow the path I would never have planned.

Happy Hanukkah! Merry Christmas!

ICLW

Hi ladies of ICLW. This morning I am trying to breathe through some serious cramping. I know these are serious because I’ve taken an Aleve and a PMS pill and still the pain radiating from my right hip flexor through to my back has me wanting to say, “Mercy!”

On days like this I think my body knows what to do. It knows how to conceive and hold a child. It just refuses to do it a second time. I don’t know why either. I enjoyed being pregnant the first time. I loved the anticipation of meeting my daughter. I was fascinated by what my body was doing. I was less fascinated by it after having my girl and wishing to have it under my control again, but that’s another story.

Perhaps I’m not listening to my body. http://www.detourtomotherhood.blogspot.com visited and I read her post. It struck a chord. She said she wasn’t listening to her body. That she pushed herself farther than she should have is her pursuit to have a child. I’ve been there. I’ve taken the drugs, gotten poked by needles, gone insane on hormones and the singular goal of having a baby.

I thought if I had such bad pain and PMS didn’t I deserve another child? I love my little girl with every fiber of my being so why won’t the universe give me another somebody to love.

On the good days the answer is, it’s not going to happen. And I accept it. On the bad days, the answer is, it’s not going to happen and it hurts like a bitch.  This is the one thing I can’t control no matter how badly I wished it, no matter how hard I prayed for it, and no matter how hard I worked toward it.

This week I finished up putting the precious things on Craigslist. Her 4-in-1 crib and the Orbit infant car seat, base and stroller. When my girl talks about having a baby brother I play along with what she thinks it would be like, but I don’t cry because she won’t have one.

Today I will be the best Mommy I can be to her, right after I lay down and breathe through these brutal cramps.

Letting Go

I did it. I packed up the last of the precious baby things I held on to and gave them away. The tummy time matt. Her crib bedding. The fancy felt blocks, BPA free bottles, and Sofie the giraffe.

Deep breath.

I think I’m settling back into accepting my reality: Hi, I’m Holly, and I suffer from secondary infertility.

My daughter won’t field calls from her sibling when she’s older and cousel him or her on their love life or job. She won’t be able to bitch about her aging parents and how stubborn we are or deaf we are becoming. She’ll stand on her own. She’s stronger than me, and I handle everything. She’ll be fine.

Besides she’ll tell you all about her other family if you ask, and even if you don’t. She has older sisters who live in space. She has other parents that live in a different house. She has a mean mommy and sister. She’s has an amazing imagination. Perhaps she’ll be a writer one day too.

But this is about me. I learned a friend is pregnant this week. She is in her 40′s. It happened naturally for them. No fertility treatments. No sex on demand or obsessing on conceiving for three years. They are a very lucky family. But they are not us.  That is not my path.

What is very natural for me is to feel a pang of grief. It does not diminish my joy for my friend. But I am honoring myself by acknowledging that I am sad that we could not share the same news. So instead of holding on to what once was, or what I wished would be, I let the past and dreamed of future go in a large wardrobe box labeled baby stuff.

Sisters

My little girl wants some sisters. She tells me about her big sister who is 14. Her sister is naughty. She pushes my girl and doesn’t listen to mommy. Her sister also sings songs with her and plays with her. Some days my girl has a brother too, but not as often. She calls her cousins her brothers and sisters. My girl really has a one track mind.

This weekend she asked me to open my mouth so she could look inside.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“I’m looking for a baby in your tummy,” she said.

I thought the sentiment was adorable. In the meantime, I sold her stroller and pack and play. I threw out her BPA free bottles. Got rid of her expensive cloth diapers that I used to wipe up all her spit up and whatnot, got rid of her receiving blankets, and her first wood blocks. I am successfully and slowly purging baby thoughts and dreams. My daughter — not so much. She wants a sibling. When I try to explain that I can’t have another baby, her four-year-old mind goes to work processing.

“It’s okay Mommy. Try. I want a sister.”

I think my girl would find adjusting to an infant painful at best. She doesn’t like to share me with anyone. But I like her chutzpah.

For now though, I am working hard on putting baby dreams to rest. Time to focus on another dream. My book. I have a goal. To finish this draft, polish it, and get my YA novel LIFE-LIKE out into agents hands by the end of August. I hope to get my girl on board with this. I think it would be a cool incentive to have her ask if my book is ready yet instead of asking for a sister. Think it’ll work?

 

Secondary Infertility Devistated My Friend–Why Didn’t I Feel More Compassion?

My friend Lisa wrote this article for the Huffington Post. It caught me a little off guard because the more I read, the more “Cassie” sounded like me. So I asked her, “Is Cassie me? Or am I being vain?”

She admitted it was me. So here you are, an honest look at our shared stories about dealing with infertility and how infertile women judge secondary infertility.

Secondary Infertility Devastated My Friend — Why Didn’t I Feel More Compassion?

www.huffingtonpost.com

Irony= Going back on the pill when I’m infertile

Met with my OBGYN yesterday. It’s been practically five years since I went to see one for a regular PAP smear. I thought, after giving up on ever getting pregnant again, it was time for a check up and PAP.

My new doctor, Jack Lucas, MD at Eastover Obstetrics & Gynaecology Associates was wonderful. He took time to sit and talk to me before getting down to the business at hand. If you need an OBGYN in the Charlotte, N.C. I’d suggest seeing this man.

During our conversation I brought up my irregular cycle. I was curious if going back on the pill was a good option. He agreed that it was, and told me more about Seasonique, which is a low estrogen pill that gives women the option to only have a period four times per year. This was appealing to me. My period may show up anywhere from day 21- 35 so, knowing that my periods would be much farther apart sounds heavenly.

Of course after discussing birth control the, I wanted to conceive and have another baby, part of my brain hit the alarm button.

“What if you have some kind of miracle? If you go on the pill that will quash any chance of that ever happening. And why spend all that money on the pill when you’re infertile? Isn’t ironic to spend money on tricking your body into thinking it’s pregnant when it can never be again?”

“Ouch, bitch that hurts.”

“Just saying.”

“Well don’t say.”

“You’re the one thinking it. Let it out. You don’t have to do it this month. Wait, just one more month.”

“Do you know how much I hate the idea of “waiting one more month”? I’ve lived like that for three years. It’s a miserable way to live!”

“It leaves room for hope and miracles.”

“Exactly, it’s a fucking miserable way to live.”

“Fine, then go get the pill.”

-

-

“The silent treatment, really?”

“Not the silent treatment. Just, it still makes me sad. It still hurts knowing that I can’t have another baby. And the hurt doesn’t surface until it’s triggered. Thanks, for triggering it.”

“Come here. I’ll give you a hug. Everything will be okay.”

“I know. Thanks. Hugs always make me feel better.”

“I’m here for you.”

Snookie’s baby

Why on earth is the denied rumor that Snookie is pregnant news? Why was it on Yahoo!‘s home page Wednesday? Why does it matter that a young, MTV reality celebri-wanna-be got drunk again and possibly pregnant?

The so-called news tweaks my infertility nerve. First off my thoughts are, shit, another person who can when I can’t. Then I think, shit, this girl who got famous for being a drunk guidette is going to be a mother. Yahoo! went on to say she’s denying pregnancy rumors so she can make more money with her story and become the next Kardashian-like celebrity star. Someone shoot me now.  I think the Kardashian’s are brilliant at making money. But I wish this period of train wreck celebrity would die already.

I bet MTV is trying to think of a way to link her pregnancy in with their Teen Mom shows. Maybe she’ll goto a teen mom’s house for a day, and take care of the kid, and we can all see how she can change a diaper and deal with a crying child for hours on end. THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT!

Will people like this be our children’s role models? They will learn, get a video camera and do whatever you need to get attention. It doesn’t matter if you debase yourself or demoralize yourself, as long as you make money.

That’s not to say I didn’t have my share of embarrassing and drunk moments earlier in life. I did. I was embarrassed by them the day after. And there was no publicizing them back in the 80′s-90′s, thank goodness.

When did societal tastes in entertainment go so far down the toilet? Or is low-budget reality TV the spectator sport of the century? Perhaps it’s not so different from Roman’s watching gladiators battle each other and wild animals to the death.

One thing is for sure though. I’m jealous that a girl who got famous for getting drunk and fighting publically with a strange hair lump on the top of her head gets paid tens of thousands (if not more) dollars to continue that behavior, has the nerve to have a baby when so many women who are trying to conceive cannot.

My grandmother was right. She told me, “If you want to get pregnant go out, get drunk and do it like teenagers.” If it were only that simple.

Here’s to all of us who wanted a child and went about it in the traditional way. We fell in love, got married and tried to conceive. I wish you success!

2011 is over, that went fast…

How is it December 29, 2011? Where did this year go? I’m not quite sure. But as I slow down and think about it it’s been an eventful one for me. Let me make a list of stuff that happened. The order is random. (lists are always popular at the end of the year.) Please feel free to add your own things done, accomplished, not completed, started, thought about etc.

1. Started the year still TTC my second child.

2. Tried IUI.

3. Gave into my reality and stopped TTC.

4. Blogged regularly.

5. Zumba’d my ass off 2x/ week.

6. Finished the first draft of my novel Life-like.

7. Had 2 short stories published by moonShine review. (http://moonshinereview.wordpress.com/)

8. Had an essay published at More.com. (http://www.more.com/i-dont-want-buy-tampons-i-want-be-pregnant)

9. Attended the Carolina’s SCWBI. (http://www.scbwi.org//) Met amazing agents, writers and illustrators.

10. Cut my hair off.

11. Moved into a new home.

12. Made some fantastic new friends.

13. Adopted a pet kitten. (who REFUSES to be litter box trained more on that later).

14. Performed in Expressing Motherhood. (http://www.expressingmotherhood.com/January__11_Los_Angeles.html)

15. Read a book per week.

16. Tried a new recipe per month. (I dread the question what’s for dinner and got inspired to try new things)

17. Loved my family with all that I have.

18. Enjoyed the support of my readers and followers. Thanks so much!

I’m sure I did more but I can’t at this very moment think of what. I’m feeling pretty good about it all. Life is incredible! Thanks for reading. Happy New Year.

 

Holiday Neurosis

I have been avoiding you. Nothing personal, it’s just I’ve had so many thoughts running through my head I needed time to sort them. I also wanted to be able to wrap them up in a funny package, but trying to write funny is disastrous. Instead I’ll confess to the things that have been keeping me up at night and hopefully they won’t be too jumbled for you because honestly this is how my mind works…

 

1. I cut my hair short. It’s in a really cute 1920’s bob with bangs. I cut about 8 inches in length. I was excited about it at the hair salon, but since living with my husband’s less than happy reaction to it, I feel ugly.  I told him before I did it. He warned me about how he would react to short hair. He doesn’t like it. I didn’t think I’d care, but three weeks since the cut, the look he gives me when he sees my hair is starting to stab at my heart.
2. I was 5 days late. I thought I was over all that baby making crap. And then a speck of disbelief then hope crept into me and blossomed then was squashed when my period showed up on day 31.  Flow had been starting on day 26. WTF! I can’t quite sort our how I feel about it. But these are the neurotic thoughts I had while contemplating being pregnant:
   1. How much longer would I be able to work out? Since I had 2 miscarriages I imagined asking my Zumba instructor how long she’d recommend that I do it? Could I do it less? Could I keep doing it since I’ve been at it 2x per week for 8 months? If I were pregnant who would I tell? Would I keep it a secret? Who would I ask for a recommendation for an OBGYN? When would the baby be due? Would I make my 25^th HS reunion? Would I want to go 9 months pregnant? I would rather show up now, all thin and fit than large and pregnant. People in my class have kids in high school themselves, and I’d be there just starting my family. What would that be like? Would I keep the secret and tell my husband as his Hanukkah present? He keeps talking about not having to go through having a vasectomy since I am apparently infertile. And then that rubs me the wrong way because the most useless question pops up- why me? And if I were pregnant I’d have to finish my rewrites on Life-like and get an agent ASAP because pregnant brain and I aren’t very productive. I wish I could get out of bed in the middle of the night and write when my head is spinning uselessly like this because what’s the point of being awake if I’m not being productive? And what’s the point of being awake when my little girl is finally asleep? And why on earth has her sleep gotten so bad? When will she sleep through the night again? If I have a baby I won’t have any sleep. M y schedule will be at the infants’ beck and call. Am I ready to go back to that when I just achieved some personal time aka freedom? What will I do about our new kitten if I am pregnant? She refuses to be litter box trained and there is no way any child of mine is going to crawl around on a floor that may have a surprise puddle or poop.
   2. My 43^rd birthday is one month away. I love birthdays. I think everyone should celebrate birthdays for at least one whole week.  But something about this number is freaking me out. 43! SHIT THAT’S A GROWN UP AGE. I’d better get going on my book.  I promised my husband I’d let go of the baby things in the attic in January. And two months ago I was ready to do it. I should have done it then. This week the idea of it makes me cry. Maybe I should cry. Let it out. Why do I feel the need to be strong when no one is around? What would tears do for me? Nothing. Or would it be sweet relief? Either way, he needs to back off. Not like he’s neat and not like the stuff is anyone’s way. So there! PPPP
   3. The first draft of life-Like, my Young Adult novel, is a bit rougher than I thought. My middle chapters have to be completely rewritten because I had lost my way there in my first draft. It’s taking longer than I’d like.
   4. I also have an essay I’d like to write. It’s kind of out there. I want to write about how I wish I could masturbate like a man. Or rather its about how I am jealous of men’s ability to turn on the internet and get off.  I may write it as a short story though. I could have more fun with it if I fictionalize a few things.

 

See what I mean these are totally random thoughts bouncing off the walls of my mind.

 

And then the good stuff. I’ve hidden my daughter’s first night of Hanukkah present in the house. My parents used to hide our gifts and it was so much fun searching for them. I thought at 3 ½ she’d enjoy it too.  It’s not exactly hard to find I’ll get sneaky when she’s older.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! Hope your mind isn’t keeping you from enjoying the holidays!

 

 

 

 

5 Days Late

I was five days late. Went out and bought a pregnancy test. Negative. Period showed up 7 hours later today. For a minute there I thought I was about to receive a Christmas miracle. Funny how hope can show up and make my heart race. Oh well. At least now I can drink some red wine to relieve my cramps.