Summer reading: "The Girls from Ames" by Jeffrey Zaslow

I hadn't heard of The Girls From Ames until I saw it on the bookshelf one day, prior to my vacation -- but there were several reasons why I snapped it up right away.

First, I love biographies and true-life stories -- especially ones that span years & generations and tell me something about the time and place in which the people lived. This is "A Story of Women and a Forty-Year Friendship." The author, Jeffrey Zaslow (who interrupted his work on this book to help Randy Pausch with "The Last Lecture") calls it "the biography of a friendship" among 11 girls from Ames, Iowa, who grew up together and remain in close touch to this day. Perfect.

Second, I probably could have guessed from the cover photo (those hairstyles! those short-shorts!!), but when I started flipping through the book, I realized the 11 featured "Ames Girls" were all born around 1962-1963 and graduated from high school in 1981. I was born in 1961 and graduated in 1979, so they are more or less my peers. We watched the same TV shows, listened to the same music, wore the same fashions and hair styles growing up.

And finally, they're from Ames, Iowa. I have scads of relatives in Iowa (though none in Ames), and I grew up several hundred miles to the north, in small agricultural communities (even smaller than Ames, but still...) on the Canadian Prairies -- so I knew that not only did we grow up in a similar time frame but also in a similar setting.

The book had its genesis in a column Zaslow wrote for the Wall Street Journal, exploring why women, more than men, hang onto friendships throughout their lives. One of the women who wrote to him was Ames Girl Jenny, who described her lifelong friendship with the other 10 girls from Ames. Zaslow -- who has three teenaged daughters -- was intrigued by the idea of exploring the complete, inside story of a group of longtime friends, from its beginnings to the present day. He contacted Jenny, and the eventual result was this book.

Some members of the group were more open to sharing their stories than others, and while I think just about everyone is featured or quoted at some point in the book, there are four whose life stories are featured more prominently: Marilyn, the conscientious doctor's daughter; Karla, the first of the girls to become a mother; Kelly, the outspoken, free spirit of the group; and Sheila, who died at 22 under mysterious circumstances in 1986.

In some respects, it was easiest for me to identify with Cathy -- the only childless (unmarried) member of the group. "When the Ames girls trade waves of emails about their kids' attention-deficit issues or the monotony of a long marriage, it doesn't resonate for her," the book says.

At the reunion, the others often relate to each other mother to mother. They talk about being their husbands' wives. Sure, Cathy wants to know about their families, but after awhile, she wants more. As she explains it, "When Karen shows up, to me she's Karen, not Katie's mom. I want to know what's going on with her, not necessarily how her family is doing. I know she's a mother and a wife, but I also know who she is as a person besides that."

..."What keeps me going back to them? What is it I don't want to sever? I think it's this: We root each other to the core of who we are, rather than what defines us as adults -- by careers or spouses or kids. There's a young girl in each of us who is still full of life. When we're together, I try to remember that." (pp. 95-96)

Karla is very different from me in her personality and life experiences -- but I could very much relate to the grief she experiences when her teenaged daughter, Christie, dies of leukemia.

The Ames Girl I probably identifed with most was Marilyn. In the "cheat sheet" at the front of the book, which includes "then & now" photos & a two-line sketch about each girl (which was invaluable, because with 11 of them, it was hard to keep straight who's who at times), Marilyn is described as "earnest, risk-averse, a bit of an outsider in the group." I'm not a doctor's daughter, nor a stay-at-home mom, but I recognized myself in those three descriptors. The chapter about Marilyn begins with her in her role as unofficial photographer at the latest group reunion -- a role that allows her to be part of the group & yet apart from it, observing -- a role I often find myself in at family gatherings. Marilyn has an active conscience and a strong sense of guilt (sometimes to the point of being ridiculous) that kept her from taking part in some of the girls' wilder teenaged shenanigans. (Yup, me too. I always hesitated, because I knew that *I* would be the one to get caught!! while everyone else got off scot-free!)

The book follows the girls through high school, college, marriages, divorces, funerals and 21 children. Grief and loss plays a huge role in the book. Marilyn's parents went through fertility treatments to conceive her after the death of their son; the girls gather to comfort Karla after Christie's death (there's an image of the 10 of them, huddled together on Karla's king-size bed after Christie's funeral, that had me bawling). There are pregnancy losses, and the deaths of parents. Two of the girls have been battling breast cancer.

And of course there is Sheila. Near the end of the book, the girls reconnect with Sheila's family and learn more about her untimely and mysterious death. Portions of the book's profits are being used by the girls to establish a Sheila Walsh Scholarship at Ames High School, to be awarded annually to an Ames High senior girl nominated by her friends. One key qualification is that she be a good friend to others at Ames High — just like Sheila was.

More than the biography of just one group of friends, "The Girls From Ames" delves into questions of friendship that all of us can relate to -- how we stay connected, how we forgive each other. Zaslow even presents academic research on various aspects of friendship and its lasting value.

As I read this book, I found myself thinking of my own dear friends from childhood (another 40-year friendship!) that I've stayed in touch with (although, sadly, not quite as well as the Ames Girls have). It made me want to pick up the phone & call them. And send them a copy of this book.

I'd like to nominate this one for a future Barren B*tches Book Tour selection.

Check out the book's website. There you'll find updates on the girls, reviews, and a fun video montage of photos, set to the Bob Dylan song "If Not For You" -- but sung by Rod Stewart (and if you've read the book, you will immediately think, "of course!" lol).

Summer reading: My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult

I had never read a novel by Jodi Picoult, but I kept seeing her books prominently displayed on bookstore shelves and seeing people (women) reading them on the commuter train. And then My Sister's Keeper (the movie) came out, with Cameron Diaz as the mother, Alec Baldwin as the lawyer, and Abigail Breslin as the daughter, and I decided I wanted to read the book before I saw the movie (assuming that I could ever drag dh to see what was so obviously yet another a chick flick, lol)(so far, I haven't seen it). So I brought it with me on my recent vacation.

It was an absorbing read. Definitely geared to a female audience, but not so frivolous that it could be labelled "chick lit."

My Sister's Keeper is the story of a family whose life revolves around the oldest daughter, Kate, who has been battling leukemia since she was a child. Kate has managed to reach the teenage years, with the help of her younger sister, Anna (now 13), who was conceived using IVF and pre-implantation genetic diagnosis, specifically so that she could be a bone marrow donor for Kate. Over the years, Anna has endured several painful procedures to benefit her sister. Now, Kate needs a kidney transplant -- and guess who is being tapped (yet again) as the donor? This time, however, Anna has other plans for her life.

I've heard news stories in the past, about babies who were conceived as donors for sick siblings. I knew it was an ethically contentious topic, but I never really stopped to consider all the different aspects of such a situation, and how it would play out through the years as the children grew up. How does the donor child feel about all this, and their role in the family? How do families of terminally ill children cope? How does one child's illness affect the family dynamics, & the other children in the family?

Speaking of other children in the family -- I think my favourite character in the book wound up being Jesse, Anna & Kate's juvenile delinquent of an older brother. The ending of the book is full of twists, and I had to laugh when I read about Jesse's fate. In retrospect, it seemed so obvious, but I honestly didn't see it coming. (By the way, I've heard the ending of movie is quite different from the book's. Caveat emptor.)

Many of the reader reviews I've seen express an intense dislike for the character of the mother, Sara, who tenaciously clings to the goal of keeping her older daughter alive, any way she can -- even at the expense of her younger daughter's happiness. But what would you or I do in the same situation? How can you not hope for a miracle? How do you know when to say "enough is enough"? What's the difference between admitting defeat and accepting the reality of an impossible situation? To what extent should parents be allowed to make decisions for their child, and to what extent should the child's wishes and opinions be taken into consideration?

Dare I say -- Sara reminded me of so many women I know, in real life and online, who tenaciously cling to their goal of becoming a mother... someday, somehow, some way. How do you decide when enough is enough? When do you stop hoping for a miracle? What is it that makes drive some people to try IVF four, six, nine times, and others (like me) to throw in the towel before even trying it once?

This would be a good future pick for the Barren B*tches Book Tour. As you can see, there's plenty of scope for discussion here!! And I will probably pick up another one of Picoult's novels in the future.

Celine will go on (& on... & on...)

Annacyclopedia was the first to tip me off to the latest big celebrity pregnancy news, last Tuesday night: Celine Dion is pregnant again. The next morning, there was an article in the newspaper (cleverly titled, "Celine Dion's genes will go on")(interestingly, strategically placed right next to the article I blogged about earlier on the need for coverage of infertility treatments). Apparently, she found out last Monday & told the world the very next day. The baby is due in May.

I have mixed feelings on the whole thing. First of all, even though I may have my Canadian citizenship revoked for saying so (or at least find it hard to get service when I'm visiting Quebec), I've never much cared for Celine Dion as a singer. She has a great set of pipes, no doubt about it, but I find her style just a little too overwrought. I find her willingness to babble about every personal aspect of her life both funny and irritating. And this, of course, is the most personal subject of all. Nothing like telling everyone right off the bat -- talk about supreme confidence!!

What I found most irritating for awhile, of course, was that she was able to get pregnant & I could not. She announced her first pregnancy in 2000, while I was mired deep in the muck of infertility treatment. As I commented on Anna's blog, I vividly remember lining up at the clinic early in the morning for our ultrasounds (it was like an assembly line) & hearing one of her songs on the radio they were piping through the office, while reading about her pregnancy in the morning newspaper. “I’ll bet SHE never had to stand in line at 7 a.m. with her butt hanging out of a hospital gown, " I said to the girl in line next to me.

And of course, not long after she finally had the baby in January 2001, she shouted her joy to the world -- including in a song ("A New Day"), which the radio played ad nauseum, while I was licking my wounds & trying to revise my life plans to NOT include children. Thanks, Celine...

At the same time, though, I can understand why she would want to tell everyone right away. Beyond her natural tendency to blab about her personal life, I suppose she & her husband figured the press would find out eventually, so why not beat them to it & make the announcement on their own terms?

And, of course, it's refreshing to hear about a celebrity who used IVF and isn't afraid to talk about it.

Bon chance, Celine.

NYT article: "For Parents on NICU, Trauma May Last"

Interesting article in today's New York Times about the lasting trauma faced by parents whose babies spend time in the NICU. The study cited is a relatively small sample... most of the parents I know whose children spent time in the NICU never took them home :( ... and I never had a NICU experience. But I recognize parts of myself and my own experience here, and it all rings true to me.

I found this part interesting, because it reflects what we see generally among our pregnancy loss support group clients (dad stays strong for mom at first, & then goes through his own tough times further down the road):

The Stanford study found that although none of the fathers experienced acute stress symptoms while their child was in the NICU, they actually had higher rates of post-traumatic stress than the mothers when they were followed up later. “At four months, 33 percent of fathers and 9 percent of mothers had P.T.S.D.,” Dr. Shaw said.

It may be that cultural roles compel the men to keep a brave front during the trauma to support their partners, Dr. Shaw said, adding, “But three months later, when the mothers have recovered, that’s when the fathers are allowed to fall apart.”

And this sure sounds familiar too:

One of the biggest problems for these parents is coping after they finally leave the NICU.

“It may be several months later when they’re ready to process what they experienced, but at that point, family and friends don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Dr. Holditch-Davis said.

Ms. Schrader, in Philadelphia, felt a similar isolation in dealing with her surviving daughter’s health problems. “We got the sense that people just didn’t want to hear about it anymore,” she said.

Read the rest here. And check out the comments (or add your own) on the Well blog.

Post #300: You know you're getting old(er) when...

…not only do you have pregnancy announcements to deal with from the people you work with, are friends with and are related to, but you also start getting announcements from THEIR kids. :p

We spent yesterday afternoon at a gathering for one side of dh's family. As we were driving there, I kept thinking, "[Dh's cousin's daughter, age 24, married two years ago] is going to announce she's pregnant today." When we saw her there, I had a momentary, "Nah, maybe not," because she is so friggin' skinny & her stomach was pancake flat. (Ah, to be 24 again…!)

But my first instincts were right. Although, actually, it was not she but her mother (dh's cousin, who is not quite two years YOUNGER than me) who broke the news, gleefully announcing to the gathering, "I'm going to be a grandma!" The daughter is just 10 weeks along. So I guess I will be attending a baby shower sometime early next year. Yay me.

(This is actually the second of our cousins who will be a grandparent. My own cousin, who is not quite four years younger than me, is already a grandfather twice over -- but I don't get to see them that often.)

Our hostess wasn't sitting with us at that point -- but a little while later, we heard a shriek, & she was laughing & saying (oh, just take a guess…!) -- yep, SHE's pregnant too! With baby #3 (a surprise!!). She only just found out & hadn't been planning to tell anyone yet, but her three-year-old son spilled the beans to one of dh's aunts ("Mommy has a baby growing in her tummy too.").

After 11+ years of dealing with loss & infertility, I'm well beyond locking myself in the bathroom & crying over these things -- I even managed to smile & congratulate the expectant moms (& grandma) -- but I can't say I was thrilled either, if you know what I mean. Just a sort of numbed resignation, frozen smile on my face, & how much longer before we can go home?? sort of feeling. One announcement, I can cope with pretty well, but two or more on the same day kind of take the wind out of my sails (see the story of my Worst. Christmas Party. Ever.)

I told dh later that I'd had a feeling about the cousin's daughter, even before we got there, & he said, "Really? How would you know that?" Duh...!!

This coming weekend, we're getting together with the other side of dh's family. I don't have any reason to suspect any pregnancy announcements there -- most of dh's cousins are in their 40s and pretty much done with babymaking, & most of the next generation are still too young -- but I've learned never to say never….

Article: "Octomom: Robbling motherhood of its moral authority"

John Doyle, the Globe & Mail's television critic, can be quite cantankerous at times. But I found myself nodding in agreement at his rant in Wednesday's paper about Octomom and pronatalism run amok. The last two paragraphs in particular. 

Did anyone watch the show? 

*** *** ***

Octomom: robbing motherhood of its moral authority 

No job and 14 mouths to feed, but in our culture, still a star 

John Doyle 

Last updated on Wednesday, Aug. 19, 2009 04:02PM EDT 

Today, I have no idea where to begin. It's not that I'm speechless. Far from it. It's more a boggled-mind thing. For a start, I'm reminded that when I was a young fella in the Ireland of long ago – okay, the 1970s – and became a devoted newspaper reader, I was particularly fascinated by the letters to the editor page. There, I'd often find that a woman's letter of outrage about some development or other was followed by the writer's name, and then, “Mother of 12.” 

It was a time and place when being a mother of 12 gave the writer and her opinion greater weight and authority. That was then. This is now. 

That kind of identification no longer appears in Irish newspapers. The idea is considered primitive and absurd. However, it turns out that the mother-of-12 phenomenon has followed me here, with a vengeance. 

So let's start with this: The so-called “Octomom” is ready for her close-up. 

Octomom: The Incredible Unseen Footage (Fox, 8 p.m.) is the, ah, highly anticipated special that offers “never-before-seen footage” of Nadya Suleman, who made headlines in January of this year when she gave birth to octuplets, conceived through in vitro fertilization. Then it emerged that she was already a mother of six. For tonight's special, Fox makes the claim that “much about Suleman has been shrouded in secrecy and subject to speculation.” And, “Through this never-before-seen footage, viewers will be able to witness the emotional struggles, physical complications and financial burdens of this single mother of 14.” 

Oh, give me a break. Suleman did not merely “make headlines,” she became a celebrity, and that was the point for her. 

The advance word on tonight's special, which has been judiciously leaked by Fox, is that Octomom expresses regret. “I screwed myself, I screwed up my life, I screwed up my kids' lives … What was I thinking?” Suleman says in a clip from the program. We are also treated to footage of Suleman sitting on her bed with the eight complaining babies, as she seems dismayed about the chore of feeding them. 

This will probably have little impact where it matters – in the minds of young women who blithely have children in the most dire economic circumstances. Back when Suleman emerged into the media, it was revealed that she was an unemployed single mother living on food stamps. There was some tut-tutting by columnists and pundits. I suspect that, too, had zero impact where it matters. 

What mattered to many young women watching in the United States is that Suleman was a star, the focus of constant attention and, yes, she was going to get her very own TV special. No job, living on welfare, living with her parents, but a star! 

Call me peculiar, and allow me to rant here, please, but I'm appalled by the adoring attention given to those celebrities who embark on increasing their ever-expanding broods. As I write this, I'm led to believe that Canada is swooning over the news that Celine Dion is knocked up again. At least she's only had one child already. 

Simultaneously, there are photos everywhere of Madonna on holiday with her boyfriend, her daughter Lourdes and two adopted children. I've no idea how many children Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have accumulated by now, but my impression is that it's about a baker's dozen. 

From the cringe-inducing freak show that is Jon & Kate Plus 8 to the movie Knocked Up and dozens of others with their own twists on celebrating the joys of parenting, the popular culture has gone too far in beating the drum for the mindless make-babies craze. The attention paid to celebrities having babies and the celebration – in film and on TV – of people having babies who are unequipped to do so, is disturbing and detrimental. 

It's detrimental because the attention validates the decisions to have children made by young women who are not stable enough, economically or psychologically, to raise them. Suleman has denied the widespread belief that she had plastic surgery to better resemble Jolie. However, it has emerged that Suleman worked as a stripper and her stage name was “Angelina.” Go figure. This is one narcissistic woman with a deep need for attention. And she's got it.

Show & Tell: Katie's Dresses

At last week's S&T session, Luna posted on S&T about the "amazing blanket" her sister-in-law made for her new baby. (If you haven't seen it yet, go have a peek. It's gorgeous!)

This reminded me of something special that I could Show & Tell.

To begin at the beginning:

During my roller-coaster pregnancy 11 years ago, dh & I didn't buy very many things for our baby. It seemed like such a tentative pregnacy for so long -- spotting almost from the very beginning, all through the first trimester, a suspicious triple screen test followed by a less than stellar ultrasound that showed (among other things) that our baby wa significantly smaller and growing much more slowly than she should be -- followed by amniocentisis, a three & a half week wait for the results (and four more ultrasounds while we waited).

During this time, dh would often pass by a children's clothing store in the concourse of an office tower close to where we work, en route to buying himself some lunch. There was an adorable little dress in the window & he often thought about buying it for our baby. Even after Katie was stillborn, he would pass by the window, look at the little dress, and think about buying it.

He didn't. He couldn't. Buy a dress for a dead baby? (Especially when you're a guy, buying a baby's dress -- what sort of questions would he be fielding at the cash register.) What would people think if they found out?

Of course, the little dress eventually disappeared from the window -- and dh has never stopped regretting that he didn't go in & buy it. He has often told that story to the members of our support group, with the added moral to trust their instincts -- if there's something they really want to buy or do to remember their babies, do it, and to heck with what everyone else might think.

One of our (now former) clients -- who has since become a good friend -- is an amazingly talented quilter, and has given beautiful quilts to some of her fellow client/friends who have had subsequent babies. At a meeting that took place around the one-year anniversary of her loss, several years ago now, she quietly handed me a soft little parcel. We never want clients to feel that they need to give us gifts, so I slipped it into my bag to open at home later.

THIS is what she had made for us:

It's not a full-sized quilt, but a square, about 12"x12" (about the size of a scrapbook page -- and yes, she scrapbooks too!). You probably can't see, but in each of the four yellow corner squares (and one yellow centre square), there is a heart stitched.

On the back, she has printed:

Katie's Dresses

For Sam and Lori (lastname)

in memory of Kathleen Maria (lastname)

with heartfelt thanks from

(her name)

(place)

2003

Here are some closeups of each of the smaller squares/dresses. I can't get over the detail that went into each one!

A little pink dress with a ladybug.

A sporty dress, accessorized with baseball & bat.

A little plaid dress for school, complete with wee pencils.

And a red dress for Christmas, of course.

This now hangs on the wall as you walk into our bedroom.

To see what others are showing & telling, visit this week's Show & Tell post at Stirrup Queens.