Archive | April 2010

Pray for me

My family is coming.  By that I mean my younger sister and my eldest sister, her husband, and 3 adult kids.  Here.  For real.  It’s like some sort of Twilight Zone episode.  I knew this was going to happen when I made a vow to heal my family and now they’re coming.  Now, don’t mistake me, I don’t think I can waive my juzu beads at them and make us one, happy, close-knit family.  Oh, no, I’ll leave that to someone with a big enough ego to actually think that’s possible.  I’ll settle for not letting them make me go nuts.

I’ve said before that we’re the type of family that just leaves things unsaid.  We report, we don’t confide, we don’t emote, we don’t demonstrate physical affection.  We barely hug.   It took me years to get used to my husband’s family constant hugging and kissing goodbye even when they were just going to bed.  It used to make my skin crawl.  My husband often gets annoyed when I don’t kiss him in public or kiss him before leaving the house.  He doesn’t get it when I can barely kiss him goodbye in the mornings when all I want is a coffee and 10 more minutes in bed.  It’s my fortune that he does both of those things constantly and after 10 years now, I now look forward to PDA.  In fact, if he didn’t hold my hand in public or kiss me goodbye, I’d think something was wrong.  Though I could still skip the in-laws kissing me goodnight.

I love my sisters but I have little in common with them and who they have become over the years. But they want to see me, mum and the baby, so that’s positive.  I suspect this is my niece’s doing.   My younger sister cannot believe their motives are pure, since my eldest sister barely communicates with either one of us, unless it’s to tell brag about her kids sending her on vacation or to bitch about something family related.  She does not enquire about mother at all.  She did come once when she was first in the home (which shocked me) but since then, nothing.  No offer of assistance, no Christmas gifts, no emails, nada.  Hubby doesn’t understand why I tolerate her at all and why I haven’t called her a selfish, cold bitch to her face.  Well, she has her reasons for being how she is, I can’t help that, but as the official “nice one”, I’ve always been civil with her. The nicer I am to her the more it seems to piss her off, so that gives me satisfaction.

The one thing that Buddhism has taught me is to endeavour to understand first, try not to judge but instead offer compassion.  I even have the example of Bodhisattva Never Disparaging.  Well, er, I do disparage unfortunately.  Of the various gifts that infertility has given me, an intolerance for people who feel they can say just whatever  stupid thing that comes to their minds – is one of them.  Yup,  they don’t call me Buddhist with an Edge for nothing.  If somebody says something stupid about adoption (count on it), I will gladly put them in their place.  In that compassionate, bitchy way I have.  I don’t like injustice, I don’t like cruelty, and I have had it up to here with people who feel it’s okay to slip me a shit sandwich and tell me it’s Nutella.  You get my point.

So this is my problem.  I want to act in the most compassionate way with my family, though they have often disappointed me.  Frankly, they have no idea that they did.  I never told them.  That is not their fault.  That’s mine.  I want this to be special for my mum, cause I’m damn sure it’s going to be the last time she sees her grandchildren from her first daughter.   I want this to be a new beginning in that I don’t want to simply report things to them, but to tell them the truth as I see it.  The thought of making myself that vulnerable to people who could equally hurt me just as much terrifies me.  We’ve never had a big blowout because each of us in our own way skirt conflict furtively. We work very hard on not being blamed, or found lacking.

I don’t want to be like that with them.  I’m not that way with anyone anymore.  No, that’s not true.  But I’m seeking to change that part of me.  I work hard to tell the truth to my friends, to my husband.  It’s hardest with him, I know.  But I work at it every day.

Sure, there’s the part of me that wishes I owned where I reside, that it had more “decor”, that my car was a brand new import, that I was 30 lbs lighter and I had Beyonce hair.    And I might have had all that, who knows, but when IF took over our lives, well, we sacrificed some things.  And other things became meaningless. You may know what I mean. New car or adoption fees?  A car can’t fit in your arms, right?

I guess I want it both ways.  Sigh.  Daimoku, rinse, repeat.

Keeping it real

I’ve been trying to get some pictures printed for weeks so I set out for an out of the way drugstore because it was close to a dog park.  That way the dog could have a little fun, I could get to the drugstore, sit down at that stupid photo computer thing and get the damn pics.  Of course en route I ran into one of the workers at my mother’s care home who just had to visit with my cute kid, and then my old nutritionist and her boyfriend at the dog park.  I had a moment of omigod, she still smoking hot and I’m still hot but not so svelte anymore.  She does the nutrition plans for the Last 10 Pound Bootcamp show on Slice TV.  She is a lovely, warm young woman and I’d kill to be have her figure.  Why do I always do that to myself?  It’s like a knee-jerk reaction I have to put myself down.  I felt like a bad student, oh, I’m sorry Miss Nutritionist, I’ve been a  bad girl and eaten my way out of my Lululemons.  She tried to make me feel better by saying, oh, but you had a kid and of course, I couldn’t let the baby take the hit for me on that one and told her he was adopted.  Yup.  I could kick myself.  I seriously have to stop doing that.  Now if my self consciousness would actually motivate me to do something about it….. ah, fuck it.  Shut up Superwoman, I can’t hear you – LALALALA!

I finally make it to the drugstore and you know who starts getting cranky.  When I finally make it back home, I feed the kid, feed the dog,  bathe him and he conks out. Mission accomplished and he’s down for a nap earlier rather than later.  He woke up last night but cackled to himself for about 20 min then went back to sleep.  So he was up in the morning at his usual time.  Good job!

Now of course, it’s obvious he needs quality nap time.  This means I have to avoid keeping him up by hauling him in and out of the car or stroller as I try to get other things done. It results in him taking a late afternoon nap and hence he’s not so damn sleepy at 3am.  Am I over thinking this?  Who knows,by next week, I’m sure it will be something else.   Oh, well, it’s funny what I’ll do to get a good night’s sleep, eh?  Once I even tried pinning up a sheet to the blinds (hubby went away and that was the night he decided to wake up crying) so maybe he’d give me an extra half hour in the morning …. nope, didn’t work.  I love that kid.  Keeping it real.

Sleepy mummy

Thank you for the input – it really helps.  My little guy was an EXCELLENT sleeper/napper.  Until a few days ago. I went back to swaddling his legs as he is quite the kicker.   Okay, so he is waking up all happy and babbling and crowing, yes he CROWS (AH  WOO!) – at 3am!  We listened to him on the monitor – he went on for an HOUR.  Then up again at 4:30am, not so happy, but not terribly miserable either. I changed his diaper, it had leaked a little but it wasn’t full –  fed him a couple of ounces of formula and held and cuddled him, then put him back down, still awake but quiet.  I turned down the heat in his room, it seemed too warm; I always wake up when I’m too hot as well.  He went back to crowing however.  I had to turn off the monitor so we could get a little sleep.  Frankly, I can hear him from down the hall just fine without the amplification. I got up at 7:20 and he was happily babbling and waiting for me, all smiles.

Tried to give him some rice cereal yesterday morning.  He ended up with most of it on his face.  He liked the spoon but not the food.  Tried again this morning and he wasn’t having it.  I thought at first maybe he wasn’t getting enough food and that’s why he was waking up, but now I’m thinking he’s going to bed too early.  So I guess it’s experimentation time.  I’ll be watching the teething situation  – I’ll stock up on the homeopathic remedy just in case – fiddle with the nap and bedtime hours and see if I can’t bring us back our peaceful nights.

Now where’s my Red Bull?

Weekend fun

Had an awesome weekend doing a scene study workshop.  I was pretty nervous, it was hard enough trying to memorize my scene when the only spare time I had was walking with the Precious and Juno.  Yet I did better than I thought I would and by the time Sunday rolled around, well, I nailed it.  The acting coach loved it!

That meant it was DH and the little one all weekend.  And guess what, he didn’t shower.  Mmmmm.  See honey?  Not so frigging easy is it? What, no dinner waiting for me?  I had a working holiday so to speak, and I loved every second of it.  Heck, sure I missed the little guy, but I did get to spend a little time with him before bedtime.

Okay, I have a question.  DH decided not to swaddle his legs(cause he kicks his way out of it anyway) and the little angel woke up at 5am, cooing and babbling away.  Not my shift, honey, too bad.  Then the next night he was up twice.  On my shift.  He hasn’t done that since he was 1 month old.  The 1st time, I fed him  a little bit, he didn’t seem too hungry, just awake. I didn’t talk to him or look at him too much, didn’t turn on the light.  It’s not playtime, buddy, it’s sleepy time.  And as luck would have, our building seemed to be out of hot water, so I had to boil water first to warm up his bottle (all the better to make him sleepy).  I put him down 40 minutes later and he talked himself to sleep.  The 2nd time at 4:45 am he was crying and hungry.  I fed him a full bottle, changed him and all was well til 8am.  Now my question is this, what the heck is up with this change?  Is it time for rice cereal? I tried to give him some this morning, he was not impressed, though he was quite enamoured with the spoon.  So it is the late napping?  Formula issues?  Any hints out there?  Have the days of my peacefully sleeping baby come to an end?

Hey, everybody, let’s adopt!

Well, I suppose you’ve all heard about the Russian adoption story that is in the news.  I’ve read A & A’s take on it and she says it much better than I could.  She’s actually spent a great deal of time in Russia as well so her perspective is very interesting.  I can’t fathom “returning” a child but it’s not the first time I’ve heard of it. Perhaps Oprah will have her on for an interview.  She had Nadya Suleman on and asked her if she had ever considered putting any of her 14 children in foster care or adoption.  Seriously?  Just in case you missed it, Oprah, she paid big money to get knocked up.  And she got her wish, all under the age of 5.  I’m betting in a year she’s putting herself up for adoption.

Here’s another Russian adoption story that’s not going to get the same amount of press.  It reminded me of my recent post about people thinking I’m some sort of saint by adopting.  I’m sure there’s various reasons for people wanting to adopt internationally, but why do people insist that you “buy American” or “buy Canadian”?  They’re not cars, folks.  They’re not produce.  It’s not about reducing carbon footprints.  Mind you, that’s usually from people who have no idea what adoption truly entails, and have no intention of taking a child out of foster care  or an orphanage anyway.  That’s solely the responsibility of infertile people and celebrities.  Oh, and missionaries… don’t get me started.

Infertility Redux

I just wanted to point this article out.  It’s about the lifelong effects of infertility.

I know that the pain of infertility can affect you long after you “get over it”.  As I’ve read in many blogs, you see other people’s children grow up and wonder about yours might be up to if they had lived or even existed.  Sometimes friendships can wither away or end as life takes you down different roads. But what happens when these women, your friends, become grandmothers and you are reminded once again of the loss?  I know that my MIL often felt left out and began to dread accompanying her friends when they bought baby clothes and showed off  pictures.  I wondered more than once who would visit me when I become old and senile.

Last night I heard from a former neighbour who became pregnant right after my first IVF failure. We all used to go camping together and I attended her baby shower (albeit briefly and with much silent suffering on my part).  Now she has 2 kids and when she heard through the grapevine about the arrival of our son, she called to congratulate us.  For a variety of reason, we fell out of touch, but now that I have a son, it seems like she is making an attempt to reconnect.  We really didn’t have anything in common before except our husbands used to hang out.  Hubby questioned why she had invited us over, but I reminded him that when we didn’t have a child, we had little interest in spending time with people who did have children.    People who have kids tend to spend time with other people with kids.  When we were childless we hung out with people who didn’t have kids.  It’s way more fun and you don’t have to watch your language.  Ever try to have an uninterrupted conversation with a parent of young children?  Their attention is always divided.  It’s annoying, you’re sitting there telling them some deep dark confession and they suddenly cut you off as junior has wandered out of sight or starts screaming or babbling strange noises.  Now I’m one of them.  It seems that every time I try to speak to someone on the phone, the Precious wakes up at that very moment crying out for my attention. Heck, it annoys me but that’s the way it is.  Anyway, hubby will be out of town for business but I guess we can wander over to their neck of the woods and see what’s up.