TTC #6, CD1

Here we go again. This cycle will include weekly acupuncture (again), fistfuls of supplements/vitamins, a first attempt at yoga, Mayan massage, and as much water as I can drink.

I sound like a freakin’ hippy.

Advertisements

Santa Claus and POAS

Do you remember when you found out that Santa Claus truly didn’t deliver the gifts every Christmas morning? I do. I was about 8. My parents had done a fantastic job of creating magic throughout my childhood…we had leprechauns visit at St. Patrick’s Day, the Easter bunny, Halloween witches, and, of course, Santa Claus. It was fun. There was mystery, and this magical sense of wonder that comes with being a child.

Sometime in elementary school, kids started spilling the beans, but my parents just let us continue to believe and they skillfully dodged the question. My brother, the more patient, obedient, and innocent child, didn’t push the issue, even though he was two years older than I. I, however, persisted. I had to know the truth. I wore them down with months of interrogation, using logic, facts, and stubborn determination. Finally, my mother relented, and one day at dinner she said, okay, you really want to know? We put the presents under the tree.

I remember my stomach dropping. On a logical level, I knew it was true, but on some naive level I wanted her to insist that the magic was real. I immediately regretted asking. My brother went a little pale and might have even gotten teary-eyed (I’m making him out to be far more delicate than he truly is). I wished that I had let the magic continue, at least for a little longer. I wish that my annoying persistence hadn’t demanded that I know the hard facts. I knew I could never go back; there was no more uncertainty that would allow itself to play through my mind as some sweet, cheery, fat man strolling through our living room in the middle of the night.

And this is why I don’t POAS. I want to hang on to the possibility, slim as it might be, that it COULD be positive. I want to enjoy the wonder and uncertainty, rather than knowing, with a measurable percentage of certainty, that it will say “negative”…”Santa Claus doesn’t exist.”

This post sounds far more dramatic and doomsday than I meant it to. In reality, I find the NOT knowing, the wonder, mystery, and maybe even magic, easier to stomach than the single solitary line that brings others certainty each morning. So, this, my friends, is why I am 13DPO, and thinking that this cycle didn’t work, but not POAS. I want to leave room for the possibility that it could be positive, rather than knowing it’s not.

Nom, nom, nom

You guys, look at this:

Supplements

That is my MORNING dose of supplements. It’s absurd! That fistful has fish oil, a multi, Maca, and an adrenal balancing herbal supplement. In the afternoon I take more Maca, adrenal stuff, calcium, and vitamin D. Then I also drink a powder called “nourish greens” that is supposedly chock full of magical things. This is all at the recommendation of my healthcare provider, so don’t think I’m just gulping vitamins all willy nilly. On top of it, we are really pretty healthy eaters…lots of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, blah, blah, blah. I don’t drink coffee, I have cut back to one or two drinks per week, and we don’t eat meat. Help me out, I’m not the only one popping pills like Lind.say Lo.han here, right? Why haven’t they made a supplement called “Baby Dust” yet? Or have they…

Donor Race

Friends, help me out here. I want to know what you think about using a donor of another race. I know a lot of people choose donors to match their own race, or their spouse’s, likely so that the children look similar. But what about using a donor of a race that neither parent shares? For example, my wife is half Mexican, half white. I am all northern European (pasty) white. What are the ethical considerations of using an Asian donor, or a black donor? My concern lies with the child(ren). I have a lot of confidence in my wife and I to help the child understand their racial heritage and donor’s background. We would go to great lengths to help them find role models who shared their race (as well as those who don’t) and help them develop a dialogue and understanding of what race means to us, to society, and to them. But, would we be doing a disservice to the child by bringing them into a family where they don’t share race with either parent? I want to think “no,” but I want to hear what other people think.

To me, this is very different from interracial adoption. We would not hesitate to bring a child of another race into our home through adoption if that opportunity presented itself, and we would love it to the ends of the earth, no matter what physical attributes he or she had. There are wonderful examples of adoption into same-race families (I know there is a better word) and interracial families. This hypothetical is different because we would be INTENTIONALLY creating a difference between us and the child. We would be setting the child up for MORE questions other than the usual – who is your dad? Is that unfair to the child?

For my bias, I would prefer to use a black donor. I can’t quite explain why, I have just always had that inclination. We are fortunate to have a wonderful white donor, but after 4.5 rounds of trying, I’m starting to wonder if maybe we should try a new donor. Needless to say, whatever baby pops out eventually, we will love beyond measure. Until he or she shows up, we are just practicing the endless questioning about whether we are doing the right thing 🙂

Please, tell me, did you consider (or use) donors of other races? Were you concerned for the child’s experience and perspective? THANK YOU in advance for sharing your thoughts!

Birthday Goals

When I turned 30, I decided to set a goal for the year. I wanted it to be something I would look back at when I am sixty and think, “WOW! I did that!” It was partially inspired by my 26th birthday, when I climbed four Fourteeners (14,000+ foot mountains) in the four days leading up to my birthday. So at 30, I decided I would run a marathon each month. I had run one marathon before, and I figured that I could do 12 more. I mapped out all twelve, paid a bunch of registration fees, got some new shoes, and started running. Initially, I tried to “train” for each race, which meant jogging an hour or so per day for a week or two before the race. That wore off. I just ended up running them with little to no maintenance training in between. Stupid, I know. I may not be blessed with a fast body, but at least it is durable. I ran all twelve, and I experienced some of the most sore mornings of my life. Like the kind of sore when I had to use my arms to lift a leg off the bed onto the floor before standing up (slowly), or braced myself against chair/desk/bathroom stalls to lower into a seated position.

Each run was so unique and special. Magical things happen in your mind when you’ve hit your physical limit. I loved being out there, pushing myself to the max, plodding through miles 15, 19, 21, praying to see “Mile 25” go by. I ran one marathon all by myself (the other racers were all 13.1, 10K or 5K). I ran races in Oregon, California, and Washington. One time I got lost and ended up running under a city bridge through a swamp. Once I ran two marathons a week apart. And in one race (the photo below), as my wet and muddy feet froze, snow fell around me in the woods, and my ears went numb, I actually had the thought “I’m just going to lay down. Someone will find me eventually.” It felt completely rational. I knew that hypothermia and death were possible, and that seemed A-OK to my frozen, tired, hungry mind. The rest of the races were more enjoyable, for the most part.

frozen trailBack to my point. I turned 32 a week ago. I knew I needed a new goal beside the usual, “Get Pregnant!” or “Become a Mother” aspiration. Thirteen marathons seems redundant. I considered 12 Century (100 mile) bicycle rides. It felt uninspiring. So, I’ve decided on 32 (my age) Half Marathons! It feels like more than 12 marathons, but not a whole lot more. I’m going to do a handful of them as Virtual Races (you enter online, get your bib, chart your own course, time yourself, submit the data, and they ship you a medal…it benefits a charity), because I would use a LOT of gas getting to 32 different races if I didn’t. I hope to run races in California, Nevada, Arizona, Washington, maybe Oregon, and probably Colorado. We’ll see.

My wife is on board – she thought the 12 marathons were fun. And she races triathlon, so I think it makes her feel better to play Support Crew to me when I race, since I am usually the one playing that role for her.

So, I promise not to make this an annoying exercise blog. And yes, I’m aware of the health implications and will work with my doctor to make sure everything is fine with Future Fetus, should he/she make an appearance. We are still TTC – insemming this week, in fact. Hopefully a baby pops out amongst all these races. Or at least starts growing in there.

The end. Wish me luck.