Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Sense

At first I didn't know what to do for this blog, and then Google came to my rescue.

The definition of sense:

Noun
A faculty by which the body perceives an external stimulus; one of the faculties of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch.

Verb
Perceive by a sense or senses: "with the first frost, they could sense a change in the days".

Synonyms
noun.  feeling - meaning - sensation - mind - sentiment
verb.  feel - perceive - understand - comprehend - realize


I wonder about the senses my unborn baby has right now. It must be interesting to be in a warm, airless, water balloon where you only hear muffled sounds and see only varying shades of darkness. Your only toy is your umbilical cord and the only drink you have is amniotic fluid, flavor varies from hour to hour. If onky I could give the ability to speak to a newborn for just an hour. 

Thursday, April 25, 2013

The other side of fertility drugs.

I am sure many of us can think of someone who cannot have children because of fertility problems. Fewer of us know someone who has gone the fertility drugs or IVF route, or both. But can you think of someone that's a result, a child, of those practices?

I'm one of those children.

When I was about ten years old my mother began to tell me that she wanted to be a mother to me and my sister so badly that she invested $10,000 (each) before we were even conceived. At first I didn't understand what she meant, I just figured she had to pay for a lot of doctor appointments out of pocket. As I grew older though I started to understand that my mother couldn't have children without the help of fertility drugs. Her cycles were irregular, her eggs weren't maturing fully, she was already past the age of thirty, and my father's sperm count was starting to slightly drop with his climbing age.

The details leading up to her finding out she was infertile I have yet to get out of my mother. To get her on the subject is difficult these days as it's been over 22 years since she first started to discover and deal with her infertility. Once she finally had me and my sister, once she fulfilled her burning need to become a mother, she sort of motherhood amnesia-ed all the difficulties leading up to it. She honestly doesn't remember a lot of the process.

But I want her to remember. The truth is, I sometimes feel like my life isn't meant to be. My father would not let my mother adopt, he didn't want to be raising someone's mistake. A naive and ignorant thought, I will admit, but the truth. My mother all her life didn't want children, but when she reached the age point in her life that gave the warning signs that it was now or never to have children, she wanted to soothe the urge and was willing to do anything.

At the time, fertility drugs and IVF practices were on the rise. The doctor told my mother about Clomid. There were health risks listed for the mother to be concerned about, but was considered "safe" and would not affect the baby. Instead of standing her ground and going with the adoption route, she went with the drugs. After a year of bills and trying, she told the doctor one last cycle and then she was done trying. I was conceived. My mom became a mother after carrying me to full term.

Once I was born and she was given the okay to have another child, my mother went with the drugs again. This time it took over two years until my mom said only one more cycle and she was done. My sister was conceived. My mom became a mother for a second time after carrying my sister to full term.

She told my father she was done having children, that two were enough for her. My father originally wanted four kids, but he knew she wanted to be done with the drugs. My mom was a wonderful mother and raised us letting us know that we were wanted, really truly wanted. She taught us to be curious, to be smart, to question the world around us. I don't think she expected me to start questioning her.

When I started to understand more about the process that was needed to have me, I began to question. Science classes taught me that nature's way of ensuring abnormalities weren't passed on to the next generation was by infertility. Anatomy taught me that once a woman's body was not fit to carry a child anymore, her reproductive system ended ovulation. Medicine and drug education taught me that sometimes side effects of a drug were not apparent until years later.

I started to look into fertility drugs research. Though they do list the side effects that the mother can experience, there is limited research done on the effects it has on the child when it reached adulthood. Fertility drugs and IVF has only been available in the United States for the last 50 years, and increase of use is only the last 20 years. Many of the children conceived with these methods are just not starting to try to have children. Many of these children are facing health problems sooner in life. Is there a direct correlation? Or is it just coincidence?

Doctors ensure mothers desperate for children that there is no side effects for the possible baby. But how do they know without the proper research?  Doctors used to smoke in the office with the patient in the room before we knew there was a correlation between smoking and cancer. We were testing nuclear bombs in the backyards of citizens before we figured out radiation could cause mutations.

What if? Is it worth having that child if there's a possibility that one day he or she may face the same problems as you did trying to have a child? Is it worth possibly genetically passing on defective genes?

I can't change the past. I can't have a pity party for myself over the fact that I feel like I took away a home and parents from a child that needed one. I can't blame my mother for the route she took. I can ask women to really think about how they want to have children. If you find out one day that you are infertile, ask yourself do you really need to carry a child to be a mother, or do you just need the child? If you already have children, do you really need more to complete your family? There are millions of children growing up without parents, and more and more are coming into the world every day.

This is my plea as a child conceived with fertility drugs. Please, please, think past your need now and into the future of your child. They grow up to be adults one day, and we will question the ways of the world. We will question your choices and actions. We will question God. I understand it would be hard to part with the fact you will never carry a child. I would be devastated as well. But I would not want my child to have the same thoughts as I do, the thought of "Do I really belong, or did my existence go against God?"

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Ad in the classifieds...

This was a ridiculous fiction I thought of when I saw an ad in the paper for a silverware technician.

Once upon a not so very long time ago there was a fork and spoon originally named Spork and Foon. Spork and Food were brother and sister items of cutlery from the old Shangri-La in Grand Forks, North Dakota. When the Shangri-La was tragically shut down due to health problems such as coach roaches, the sibling pair decided to make an escape the last night the restaurant was open. They both did not want to continue their career in the food business, so they set out on their way one night in search of a new adventure. While Spork and Foon were walking on the middle strip of I-29, Foon noticed how light it was out even though it was probably well past midnight. “Stop for a minute,” said Foon to Spork, “let’s lay down on the grass and look up at the sky. Spork, who is always up for whatever Foon wants to do, fell backwards with Foon and started to gaze up at the immense and vast sky above them. Spork suddenly gasped! Right above him was a HUGE wheel of cheese!!! “Foon, can you see that huge wheel of cheese above us?!” Spork cried out. “Well, yeah, but I didn’t know the moon was cheese…” Foon mumble, but Spork was too excited and cut him off, “Could you imagine being the only fork and spoon to be stuck in that?!” Foon pondered this idea for a minute and then replied, “Well, that sounds like more fun then working at the Olive Garden…” Foon contemplated. Spork was already making excited plans, as he started to ramble about needing a rocket and maybe some duct tape. On and on Spork and Foon went making plans on how to make it up to the great ball of cheese in the sky, and while they were doing so they started to walk towards the Wal-Mart Super Center to go steal supplies for their great adventure. Now as you can imagine they were not paying very close attention to the road they were walking on when they were crossing to get to 32nd Ave exit, because right then a huge Cass-Clay semi truck ran both of them over flattening them into thin little strips of sheet metal and ending the two siblings short life of adventure.

A conversation with a dog.

While I am sitting on the farthest corner of my bed, minding my own business and trying to stay comfortable while doing a few hours length of homework (a greater feat the rounder you get) my German Shepherd always wants to talk to me to be let outside. Yet he doesn't get the whole "speak when you hear want you want being offered" part, instead he whines. Hopefully one day I'll get him to respond with a resounding bark...

Half yawn, half yelp sound is made, then sits in front of me at perfect attention.
I look over at Odin. He drops his rope toy and sits.
Swish, swish, swish goes his tail.
"What do you want Odin?"
Pitiful low pitch whining. Tail swishing. Sitting still again, statue like.
"Odin, what do you want?"
Pitiful whine again, ears halfway up. Sitting with his anxious tail swishing. 
"Do you wanna go outside?"
Ears go straight up, tail frantically swishing, back end leaves the ground a few inches. 
"Outside?? Want to go outside??"
Loud whine again, whole dog body animated, ears at full attention, makes like he's going to bark. 
"Say something then! Want to go outside? Woof, woof??"
Whiiiiiiinnnneeee. Darts to the back door. Comes back. Sits looking at me again. 
"Odin, outside?"
Tilts his head to the side at the word 'outside'. Darts to the back door. Doesn't come back.
 I look down at my book. Eventually he'll ask me to go out.
He comes around the corner, charging into my room, jumps up on the bed with his front paws. Whine.
Ugh, it's going to take forever to get this... "Odin, want to go outside?"
Runs to back door again, sits there, makes little emergency yelps. Refuses to bark!!
"FINE! Lesson done, close enough!"   I roll my round self out of bed to let him out. Maybe he'll get it next time...

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Itchy feet!

I would love to one day visit Hawaii. Lately (it might have to do with the weather) I keep thinking about that location. One day when I do get my honeymoon (after the wedding that I still want) I think that's the location I'm going to try to strong arm my husband into taking me. I would love to see the ocean, walk on some beaches, see a volcano... the only down side is all of the tourists I'd see. I realize this is a bit hypocritical of me, since I would be a tourist as well. Though if I go somewhere on vacation I don't want to be around a ton of people. I get enough of that with the daily interactions of my life. I'd rather sit back and have a few fruity alcoholic drinks with my husband and see no one the entire day.

Until that day, I will continue to look for green outside. It's been such a lovely winter we've been having this spring...