Awards n Stuff

First, thank you to CoffeeBlue for nominating me for a blog award.  What a nice way to introduce yourself as a reader...and turn me on to new blogs!  I will confess I suck at these whole blog awards things.*    But I like answering questions, so here goes:


1. What is your least favorite chore?

I think I must say cleaning mini-blinds, which is how I got into the whole Whacked Head with the Fan Incident of 2012.  But more routinely, I fucking HATE cleaning baby bottles.  Really.  I think I hate it more than dealing with poop on cloth diapers, because it takes longer on a daily basis, though that might be a toss up.  I hate them slightly less now that they contain breastmilk and not Neocate, but the job still sucks, and I should probably pay LG to do it, if I thought she would do a decent job.

2. What is your favorite book?

Oh, you know I'm an English professor right?  I don't think I have a favorite book.  Or I have multiple favorites.  Or something.  I just love books.  So I'll change your question (sorry!).  Some books I've read recently that I would recommend:

A.M. Homes May We Be Forgiven (I haven't finished this, but, holy shit, if I'm going to read things I will never teach, I love Homes [although her famous one with Alice in the title I couldn't make it through the first couple pages--sorry!]); John D'Agata and Jim Fingal, The Lifespan of a Fact (might be the best book of creative nonfiction I have ever read); Olena Kalytiak Davis, And Her Soul Out Of Nothing (poems...my students for next semester will apparently be seeing many of Davis's poems if I ever get around to making a syllabus.  ahem).  Other stuff on my shelves:  Carole Maso, AVA; Cheryl Strayed, Wild; Arielle Greenberg and Rachel Zucker, Home/Birth: A Poemic; T.C. Boyle, The Women; Marcia Aldrich, Companion to an Untold Story; Christine Sneed, Portrait of a Few of the People I've Made Cry.  And I'll add The Secret History, Mrs. Dalloway, and The Things They Carried for good measure.

3. If you could wake up tomorrow and magically be successful at a new career, what would it be?

Does it have to be a job that one has actual knowledge about?  Because I think I would make a damn good reproductive endocrinologist (if I didn't have to go to med school and actually do IVF and stuff on people).  But really, and this should not surprise anyone who reads this blog, I would like to be Dr. Gorgeous in my next life.  More seriously, when I thought I wasn't going to get tenure my plan was to go to school to study Library and Info Science (which is probably called something else these days).  I could also be a yoga teacher.

4. If you had to live in a US state other than the one you live now (or other than the country you live in now), which would it be and why?

Four seasons (with snow) is a basic living requirement for me.  Other than that, I don't have many affinities for particular states, though I would prefer never to live in the South again.  I also require a decent public library, a health food store (can't I live closer than an hour away to a Whole Foods or a Trader Joes?!), NPR, and at least one coffee shop.  My first job involved none of the above.


5. What are the name(s) of your childhood pets (if you didn't have any, what about your favorite doll or toy)?

I had a dog named Boo and a doll named Rose (named after Rose Wilder Lane, I'm sure).

6. If vacationing on the moon became a thing, would you want to go? (why or why not)

Probably not.  I'm a homebody.  The moon is far.

7. If you had to pick one food/drink item that you loved, to give up for a year, which would it be (eg, ice cream, coffee, alcohol, pizza)?

Oh, that is just a mean question.  The easiest for me to give up would be alcohol (been there, done that); I've also gone that long without coffee; things that have the wheat/dairy combo (pizza!!!!) are much harder to do but much better for me.  The part of me that was a pseudo-anorexic really should not do elim diets of any kind.  See 2010-2011.

8. What is one of your favorite holiday traditions?

Don't really have one.  I like making latkes with LG for Hanukkah, but it's not like a Big Deal or anything.  When I was a kid I loved that I got to drink out of a wine glass on Rosh Hashanah; I let LG do the same thing.

9. What is one thing little kid you always wanted for your birthday (or other holiday) that you never got?

Oh, this is a sad silly story.  So I desperately wanted a stuffed pig when I was around 8, because I loved Charlotte's Web.  And my father bought me a stuffed bunny.  A little bitty thing which was for some inexplicable reason pink.  And I cut the tail off and the ears off and tried to make it into a pig.  My father had a knack for buying me gifts that were like the opposite of what I wanted (i.e. if I said I hated the color yellow, he'd get me a bunch of yellow clothes) even though he loved buying gifts as a mode of parenting.  And then my grad school boyfriend bought me a little pink pig that was wearing a t-shirt with the logo from his alma mater, which is now what LG and I use to throw at bugs crawling on her ceiling.  You asked.

10. Horror movie, comedy, or drama?

Depends.  Although I would say never horror movie (unless we're talking Silence of the Lambs psycho drama horror) but perhaps sci fi.  Drama is my preferred genre in general, though I haven't really been able to watch A MOVIE in forever; they're just too long. 

11. Beach, mountains, or amusement park?

Beach.  Although the last time I went to the shore (LG was maybe 4?) I got one of those inexplicable instant rashes from the sun and sat around itching and generally miserable.

*  This particular award goes to writers with small followings.  I think mostly I don't read blogs with small followings.  But I also don't think that's necessarily indicative of one's readership (i.e. I don't "follow" ANY blogs but I read a ton...and I know personally I have MANY more page views than I have "followers"...one has to do with reading habits, the other with jumping through blogger's hoops).  So I'll put some questions out there that I'd love for some of my readers to respond to, and if you choose to do so on your blog, please leave a comment here letting me know and I'll put up a linkie thing (now that I know how to do linkie things) and other folks will stop by to read, and that's always a good thing.  Or if you don't have a blog, feel free to comment here w/ your answers.

Some stuff I would like to know about the people who read here:

1. Favorite childhood TV show.
2. Stuff you like to read.
3. Favorite meal that you would cook.
4. Favorite meal that you'd eat at a restaurant.
5. Describe your house.  Either current or childhood.
6. Who was your favorite teacher and why?
7. Favorite class you took in college (okay, I'm lame, but I'd still like to know).
8. Favorite time of day.  And/or year.
9. If you could save any object from a home fire--other than family photos or laptop--what would it be?
10. Why do you read blogs?
11. What do you want to know about me?  Answer it for yourself...

To Comment or Not to Comment

Lately I've been thinking about my commenting habits on blogs.  I guess I should be more specific.  Sometimes I find myself reading a post and thinking something like "your RE is a fucking moron and you need to see a new one."*  Obviously I don't write that comment, mostly because it's rude, and I like to think of myself as a nice person.  But I don't usually come up with a more delicately phrased version; I simply don't comment.

Let me take a step back; most of the blogs I comment on I read regularly, and most of those blogs are by folks who also comment here, and I feel like we have a community thing going.  I feel that I "know" them well enough that I can say what I think will support them the most, because really I think that's the point of commenting on blogs.  (Support can take many different forms, but, again, it's sort of like getting to know a friend; sometimes friends need practical advice, sometimes friends need to hear "me too"; sometimes friends just need an electronic shoulder to cry on and someone to say it will be okay.)

These possibly-less-than-helpful comments I choose not to post are NOT directed at any of those people in "my" little corner of the blogosphere.  They're blogs that I've stumbled upon (generally via someone I do read regularly) and read a couple times and really don't have a lot of back story for.  They're blogs I tell myself probably won't return to, but I do, I have to say, because somehow my curiosity is piqued. 

(Have I said I don't particularly like this about myself?)

I guess here's the bigger picture question:  would it be better if I just said to those folks some kinder, gentler version of "your RE is a fucking moron and you need to see a new one"?  Because I sort of feel like stopping by to read and not commenting is equivalent to watching an accident and not doing anything to help.  Then again, I don't think all readers have a responsibility to comment; I have no problem with "lurkers," though I do wonder about folks who "lurk" for a long time and never comment... because there's something kind of voyeuristic about that.  You "know" me and I don't even know you're sitting there with a pair of binoculars watching me undress.  Or something.

And then I wonder how many of my readers have thought some version of "your RE is a fucking moron and you need to see a new one" and chosen not to say anything.  (But seriously, who would think that about Dr. Gorgeous?)

Anyway, I'm just musing.  I'd be interested to hear your take on all this.  Or maybe I'll delete this whole post in about ten minutes.  I've got a book I need to write with some crazy footnotes; talk amongst yourselves.



*  Not always about fertility stuff.  Sometimes it's OB stuff.  Sometimes it's parenting stuff.  It's always something I think I know something about.  I'm kind of obnoxious that way.

Welcome to the Healing Salon

Welcome to The Healing Salon.  Academic readers might want to skip over this one (or you might want to stick around, for the same reasons folks turn their heads to look at car crashes, or if you like community politics and drama).  If you’re a member of the ALI community, well, you probably know what this is about.  Before we start chatting, let me introduce myself, for those of you who are just visiting for the first time.

I’m gwinne (no, that’s not my real name).  I’m a single mother by choice.  I’ve got two kids (finally!), referred to as Little Gwinne (LG) and Tiny Boy on this blog.  LG is the product of magical fluky unmedicated IUI #10 (after clomid, repronex, a miscarriage, and an IVF consult) and Tiny Boy is my DE/DS baby (after 21 (?) IUIs, a couple IVF attempts, recurrent miscarriage, and more drama than I ever thought possible).  I started blogging when I started trying to conceive kid #2.  After the rigmarole involved in trying to conceive kid #1, I already considered myself “infertile,” although I (stupidly) assumed secondary infertility wouldn’t be an issue.  Ahem.

*

That is, Something Remarkable has always been a mishmash.  Posts about academic life.  Posts about single-parenting.  And, increasingly, posts about infertility and pregnancy loss.  And then high-risk pregnancy.  There is no parenting after infertility for me.  It’s parenting while infertile.  Still is, even after the birth of my son.

I’m pretty sure it was Mel who talked about the difference between childlessness and infertility.  And as I have experienced, having the baby doesn’t necessarily mean that you’ve dealt with your infertility.  I used an egg donor; I had a baby, but I’m still infertile.  And really truly scarred by that experience, still working it out almost daily (has to do with my relationship with my body, not my relationship with my son).  And that’s why, personally, I won’t be joining PAIL, though I think it’s a perfectly respectable and obviously, for some folks, needed space.  Although I don’t read her blog, now called “Alice in Diaperland,” I do want to quote Elphaba, because I think her words, rather than other folks’ speculation, are important:

“I’ll just reiterate what I said initially about the idea of a parenting after infertility and loss blogroll–namely, what I wanted was an active community where the focus was more on being a mother and not about loss and infertility. Of course, those experiences as a parent are coloured by the difficult journey to get there, but the main point was that I didn’t want to keep talking about infertility all the time.”

Me?  I’m just not there.  Or rather, I’m still here, with a daily reading habit of infertility/loss blogs.  Although I blog here about motherhood, I don’t feel like this is a “mommy blog,” and frankly sometimes I want to smack myself for yet another post about Tiny Boy’s lack of naps.  But I also don’t censor myself.  As far as I know, my readers are predominantly academic moms, single moms, infertile women still in the trenches, women who are finally parents-or-pregnant-after-infertility.  (I think that covers everyone.  If it doesn’t, please introduce yourself!)  While I wouldn’t say I write for those readers—I write primarily for myself, to work out issues—I am generally aware of my audience.  I assume I’ve lost some readers after becoming pregnant and now giving birth, but I also know that I’ve gained many along the way.  My blog reading habits have also gone in waves, and I am increasingly reading blogs by academic women.  Confession:  back in the dark days, the only pregnant-or-parenting blogs I would read were by those who had dealt with recurrent pregnancy loss.  (No, as folks keep saying, “there’s no pain Olympics,” but I am willing to say that the experience of someone who has had RPL is qualitatively different than someone who got knocked up after one clomid IUI.  I’m just being honest here.  It is perhaps one of my best qualitites.  Or one of my worst.  You decide.)

All this preamble brings me to my duties as host of this Salon.  Some questions to bat around in the comments:

1.      For those of you who are pregnant or parenting following infertility treatment, what is your relationship to the ALI community?  What are your blog reading/writing habits?  To what extent has infertility colored your pregnancy/parenting experience?

2.      For those of you still in the trenches, how do you feel about pregnancy/parenting blogs? Are they merely the next stage on a journey that begins with infertility, or are they something completely different?  Do you read them or avoid them?

3.      Here, I’m borrowing from Mel:  “Are people being asked not to write about parenting, or is that just their perception?”

4.      And because I’m invested in the “meta” question:  Why do you read/write blogs?  What do you want from the experience?  For you, how is blogging different from journaling or participating in a listserv?

Those are my big questions.  If I’ve overlooked something you want to talk about, talk about it.  Keep it as respectful as you always do. 

1000

Yes, apparently this is my 1000th post.  I should say something smart, right?  Or at least interesting.  Perhaps a recap is in order.

I began Something Remarkable just over three years ago, when I was beginning the process of trying for Baby #2, which has turned out to be much longer and much more complicated than I could have imagined.  My daughter, who will be 8 in February, was conceived after a year of ttc, on my 10th IUI cycle, following a miscarriage and an APA diagnosis; I started trying for her at 29.  Perhaps that should have been the first clue that trying at 35 would not be smooth sailing.  I thought perhaps the universe would cut me some slack.

In October 2002, I had my first miscarriage.  It was a long, drawn-out affair, technically a blighted ovum (hate that term--prefer anembryonic pregnancy), but it took almost six weeks, methotrexate, and a D&C to get rid of it.  I was 11.5 weeks pregnant.  I started lactating a couple days later.  Happy 30th birthday.

In October 2008, I was a sparkly new fertility patient again, just undergoing unmedicated IUI #2.  I actually thought that might work.

In October 2009, I did IVF #1 (or IVF attempt #2, the real first was converted to an IUI).  Following the failed cycle, I ended up with a uterine lining of over 3 cm.  My RE stuck me on iron-supplemented birth control pills and told me to expect to bleed for the entire pill cycle.  I think that was the first time she mentioned donor egg as a possibility.

In October 2010, I had a consult out of state to discuss IVF #2 (or 4, depending on how one counts these things) vs. donor egg and started the crazy acupuncurist-inspired anti-inflammatory diet that almost starved me.  By December 2010, I'd made up my mind to do DE with my current RE, assuming I didn't conceive on my last IUI (or the one after that, you know, because it's hard to stop).

And, now, in October 2011, I find myself pregnant (via DE-DS) with a little boy who, so far, has seemed to overcome every horrid obstacle thrown his way.  An evil, life-sucking vanishing twin.  First trimester oligohydramnios and a gestational sac too small to hold him.  Threatened (or real?) IUGR and placental insufficiency.  By the end of October, he might actually be a person I can hold in my arms.

Throughout, this blog has introduced me to many fabulous people who've had stories similar to mine, or harder than mine, and really put mine in perspective.  I doubt I could have made the move to DE had I not had online friends like Sprogblogger, who made it seem not only doable but the best possible way of handling a very sucky situation.  I only hope that my story has helped someone else--perhaps even a quiet someone who never comments--as well.

So if you haven't introduced yourself, please do.  And if there are things you'd like me to chat about, dear readers, let me know.  Very soon I hope to be an academic single mama to two beautiful hard fought children.  And you know, despite all the tears and sleepless nights, I don't think I'd have it any other way.

Something Substantial?

Well, it appears that the wonderful Sprogblogger nominated me for a "blog with substance" award.  Many thanks!  Sprogblogger was one of the first blogs I read after my entrance into the RPL community, so this means a lot coming from her.  From what I can tell the gist of this award involves coming up with 7 things readers don't know about the blogger in question, which is going to be difficult, as there's very little that I don't talk about here.  But I'll give it a shot.

1. My parents divorced when I was four.  I haven't spoken to my father since I was twenty-two or twenty-three, for reasons that aren't entirely clear even to me.  I don't regret not having him in my life or LG's, though I have thought about sending him a letter.
2. The greatest tragedy of my high school life was not being selected to be on the pom-pom squad.  It's pretty uncharacteristic that I'd want to do anything involving school spirit, so I'm not sure what that's about.  I am not looking forward to the day that LG announces she wants to be a cheerleader.
3. When I was in college, according to my roommate, some of the girls a few doors down on my floor called me "Depeche Mode Girl," which I found somewhat strange even at the time, as I had only one Depeche Mode CD and didn't even listen to it all that often.  As I recall, that was more the era of Madonna.  How I got papers written listening to "Erotica" is probably worth further contemplation.
4. My picture hung in the student union (of the fairly large state university I attended) for the entirety of my senior year in college because I was one of 12 (or 14?) who won an annual big deal award.  (Yes, I was that kind of student.)  And my mother still has that fucking picture on her mantel, where I am frozen in time, along with high school versions of my siblings.
5. My first year in grad school I dyed my hair, which fell at the time to my mid-back, BLACK.  I also have pretty fair skin and looked something like Morticia Addams.  Probably good that I dyed it back to its normal boring brown before I started teaching.
6. I'm sure I've said this before, but I decided to become an SMC at 27.  I was 29 when I put the plan in motion, and 31 by the time LG was born.  The first time I went to a meeting of my local SMC group several women assumed I was there to babysit.  Of course, that same year I was also taken to be an undergraduate by my new colleagues and carded when trying to rent a rated R movie.  Seriously.
7. I am HTML challenged, which is why you won't see fancy linky things on this blog, including the list I am about to give.  There are many things I'd like to learn in my lifetime, but website creation/maintenance is not one of them, at least at this point in time.  For the moment, basic blogger suits me just fine.

And now I am supposed to nominate 7 other bloggers for this award:  Maddy, MeAndBaby, Mo, InBetween, Irrational Exuberance, Shannon, and Justine, consider yourselves IT.  You're tagged.

A Post For My Friend A. When She Can't Sleep

So yesterday A. said that she had a confession to make.  Which was that she "blog-stalked" me in a fit of insomnia.  What came of that, she said, was that she realized the version of me she read on this blog is different from the version of me she hears on the phone.  Which, she wanted to know, was real?

Now I could have launched into a speech about the constructed nature of identity, that it is always a performance, etc.  After all, that's a major issue I deal with in my academic writing.  I told her, truthfully, they're both real.  But I do know what she means.

Some of that discrepancy has to do with questions of audience and the purpose of this space, as both somewhat therapeutic and also communal.  Some of it has to do with my wanting to be more chipper than I often feel; rewriting/reframing the narrative of my day through the lens of "small good things," for example, is a way to focus on the good during a time that is unquestionably abolutely terrifying and shitty.  But if I think about the bad--if I think about the fact that I still don't have a book contract and I still don't have tenure and I've done fertility treatment for 2.5 years and have lost multiple babies and--I'm completely paralyzed and overwhelmed.  It's not a space I can exist in for very long.

But when a good friend asks how are you? if you say okay, she knows that you're not really okay.  And then you're talking about the absolute terror of feeling like your uterus is a coffin.  And, yeah, that's not generally the voice that I use here.  Although I do believe that this voice, gwinne, is an honest voice.  And the voice I use with A is an honest voice.  And the voice I use in actual therapy, in which I am rather snarky as well as weepy, is an honest voice.  Why communicate at all if you're not being honest?

So here's where I'm at today:  I'm trying very hard to be happy pregnant woman.  I'm meeting my OB and getting an ultrasound.  M, who drove me to transfer, is coming with me just for kicks, and we're going out to lunch beforehand.  But I'm still petrified enough that as soon as I'm done writing this I'm getting out that doppler just for a 10 second, there you are little one check.  And then I'm going to try to get some of these papers graded, because really I've just got a few days before grades are due, and the sooner I get this crap done the sooner I can get on to my own writing (I hope).  So there you are.  And here I am.

Roll Call

It's occurred to me more than once lately that I'm not sure who my "community" is at this point, at least when it comes to blogging. I read some blogs by academics, some by SMCs, some by folks dealing with IF/RPL, some blogs by former IFers who are now parents (but mostly because I found their blogs when they were, like me, full of angst, and their voices still resonate). My blog reading habits are changing, as I become both more and less entrenched in this world of IF.

So who's here? There are a number of names who seem to be semi-regular commenters but whose blogger profiles aren't available. And I'm sure--though I don't like to think about lurkers!--there are others who read who haven't said hello. So who's here? Drop me a line in the comments if you haven't introduced yourself. Let me know your story or how you ended up at Something Remarkable.

Something Remarkable 2.0

Although classes do not begin until next Wednesday, my duties officially began yesterday with a meeting for the student organization which I advise and a reception for new graduate students (which I dragged LG to--such is the life of a single mom). And I felt this discernable shift from Summer Gwinne (who sits in coffee shops and reads things and writes things and watches a lot of TV) to School Year Gwinne (who grades papers and attends meetings and smiles pleasantly at Crazy Senior Colleagues); the stress gathered in my shoulders and neck and turned into the thing that precedes The Headache. I wanted to go home and pet IVF Kitten and be anywhere but work. The good thing about those hours was that I wasn't thinking about negative pregnancy tests.

This blog really got going two years ago, when I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Evil (who I still cannot believe actually TRAINED Dr. Gorgeous) on the first day of school to talk about my low-tech plan to conceive baby #2. It's been two years, people. TWO YEARS. And while I know there are people, some who read this blog, who've been at it longer than that, I never really thought it would be me. I spent most of last year being various shades of depressed and angry at that fact. This year, I think, is going to be the year of denial and biding my time. See, if I was a married person, I'd be taking a real break from all ttc attempts and just having sex every month and seeing what happened. I'm not willing to lose the chance that this month might have the good egg, so I'm not even taking a month off. But I am, psychologically, thinking of this low-tech plan as being on hiatus. If it happens, fantastic. If it doesn't, I'm out maybe $600, which is less than the cost of daycare for the baby I'm not having. When I hit 38, then I'll come up with another big plan. Right now, I really don't want to think about it.

Which brings me to the point of this post. Changes will be afoot at Something Remarkable. I like the blog, and I like the community, so I really don't want to shut down completely. But the posts about the ins and outs of my ovaries are, I think, done. And other than a few people I need to keep track of (hey, Sprogblogger!) I'm going to scale back the daily blog checking. As people have gotten pregnant and moved on, I've lost the community I started with, and while many of you are still here, cheering me on, you're in a different place now. I'm not sure who my community is, as it's not SMC-wannabes just getting started and it's not long term infertile married people. If you've been a regular commenter and want to stay in touch, feel free to email me at gwinne [at] yahoo [dot] com.

I'll be here. Just a little quieter than usual. Maybe more of the single mom academic chat and less of the ttc chat. Maybe more of the small good things (can we put a good night's sleep on the top of that list?). All things considered, I think I'm pretty zen. And when I don't think about it (you know, because thinking makes me cry) and I don't look at the holy-shit-that's-16-failed-cycles list I keep, I'm in pretty much the same place I was when I started this conversation two years ago.

And with that, I've really got to get to work.

In Which I Decide to Make This Blog Public

...and muse about the consequences. I've decided to stick with trusty old Gwinne as a pseudonym, a name that has followed me across various internet groups and for which very few people know my "real" identity. This is a space I'd like to use mostly as a place wherein I can reflect--publicly--on the relationship between mothering and academe. The kid shall heretofore be referred to as Little Gwinne (or LG) because now, at age 4, she looks and acts like a Mini Me. I ask that if you do know me in "real life" that you respect the pseudonymous nature of the blog.

For now, I need to get to work--editing an essay to be sent out by the end of the day--though LG is convinced that all I do is go to yoga, watch TV, and talk on the phone at my campus office.