Glow in the Woods 7x7 (April 2009): The Body Shop

It's May 1st -- and the April 7x7 from Glow in the Woods has been on my to-do list all month.

The 7x7 -- as well as most of the posts in April -- fell under the theme of "The Body Shop" -- "a month of themed reflections and memes that explore what we do in an effort to occupy these physical selves with grace after babyloss."

Here (finally!) are my answers:

1 Give us a few words you would have used to describe your body, your health or your sense of physical vitality before the experience of babyloss—and a few that you’d use to describe it now.

You have to realize that I'm trying to remember how I felt more than 11 years ago now... and I was a lot younger then than I am now. ; ) I was certainly lighter in both mind & body. I gained a fair amount of weight in the first few years of my marriage. Once I turned 30, I resolved to lose some -- and I did drop about 35 lbs, with the help of Weight Watchers -- but by the time I was 37, about 15 had crept back on, & I gained 20 more during the pregnancy (plus some more afterward).

Am trying to lose it again -- I'm already down about 10 pounds from my highest weight ever -- but it's much harder to do at this age (nudging 50) than it was back then. I don't think I'll ever be able to return to my original WW goal, but I think that getting back within my approved range would be a realistic new goal. Unfortunately, that's still a good 30 lbs away.

I think I have always been a bit of a hypochondriac, but the experiences of loss & infertility have left me feeling hyperaware of what my body is doing -- & all the reasons why it might be doing it. I get a little obsessive about my health at times at times.

2 What do you do to take care of yourself? Has this changed?

I go to bed earlier. ; )

I discovered yoga while attempting to de-stress from my infertility treatments, & have taken classes on & off.

When the weather is nice, dh & I try to make a point of taking a walk after dinner, which we both enjoy.

And a day at the spa being pampered -- even a lunch-hour pedicure once in awhile -- can work wonders on both body & spirit! ; )

Sometimes I will take a day off work for no particular reason, just to give myself a break. I might go shopping, I might stay home & read or scrapbook, I might clean out a closet and then watch Oprah with a nice cup of tea. The point is to forget about work & relax.

3 Give us one or two words to describe sex or physical intimacy before, and then after the loss of your baby.

Before: fun.

After: tinged with sadness. For a long time afterward.

4 Has loss and/or grief left a physical mark on you (a scar, a chronic condition, insomnia, a tattoo)?

For the longest time after Katie's stillbirth, I had a little scar on my left wrist, where the nurses had inserted an IV at the hospital. I could still see it, years later. I was sad when it eventually faded from sight.

And I'm still carrying around a belly, albeit not as pregnant looking as it was. :p

5 Do you medicate or control your emotions with food, wine, altered states, prescriptions? Without judgement, what have you gravitated towards in an effort to heal, and how do you feel about it?

I've never been much for drinking or drugs, even in my wilder student days. Food (chocolate!), perhaps. When I started having panic attacks after we stopped treatment, my dr prescribed me At.i.va.n. I didn't like the idea of having to take a pill, & was afraid I would become dependent on it -- but the few times I did take one, I was grateful that it was there.

I also subscribe to the theory that "when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping." : ) Retail therapy has always been an outlet for me, & while I am trying to curb my impulses (particularly in the current economy), my tastes are not overly expensive (fortunately for dh!). My favourite indulgences include books & magazines, scrapbooking supplies, pretty coloured T-shirts from the Gap, & skin care/cosmetics (Estee Lauder, Clinique & Prescriptives).

6 Was physical healing important for you in the first year after your loss? What did/does physical healing entail and how did/do you work towards it? If physicality hasn't been a priority for you, what do you do that makes you feel stronger or more able to cope?

I don't remember having a very difficult time with the physical aspects of healing from my delivery. The waiting period before trying again was probably the hardest part. Going for walks helped me to feel like I was doing something to get back into shape, & was also good for me mentally. Finding support, both in a real-life group and online, was also a very important part of my healing.

7 If you could change anything about your body and/or health, what would it be? What would it feel like to be either at peace with your body, or at peace with this babylost state?

I really would like to lose weight. I am back at Weight Watchers (again), but it's a long, slow process. I've developed high blood pressure and gallstones in recent years, & my doctor tells me that if I lose some weight, both problems should lessen considerably. I don't have to worry about being around for my children, but I want to stay around for my husband & enjoy life for as long as I can.

Check out Glow in the Woods to see how other bloggers answered the same questions.

(Another) article: "The Guilt of Secondary Infertility"

Lisa Belkin must have gotten the message about National Infertility Awareness Week! ; ) (although the words have not yet appeared in her blog) For the second consecutive day, the New York Times blog Motherlode tackles an infertility-related topic, via a guest blogger: secondary infertility.

11 comments so far... including several calls for further discussion on the subject of pregnancy loss.

As I mentioned on Emily's blog, I Google-News-ed "National Infertility Awareness Week" & came up with exactly 22 references... most of them press releases, with various organizations (including PETA!!) pushing their own angle. :(

Article: "Too Many Ways to Have a Baby?"

Lisa Belkin's Motherlode blog at the New York Times asks the question today, "Too Many Ways to Have a Baby?" and "where is the line between reasonable and too much, and how do you know when you've reached it?"

101 reader comments (and counting...!)... with the usual share of "why don't they just adopt?"s, but also some thought-provoking points and personal stories.

Which would you choose?

Suddenly, I'm popular. Not just one, but two invitations for the same day -- and Mother's Day, no less!! Who'd-a thunk?? Little ol' infertile, deadbabymama me!

Since dh's mother died long before I was able to meet her, and my own mother lives 1,500 miles away, dh & I have usually been left to our own devices on Mother's Day -- which is generally how we like it. I wrote this post about Mother's Day & me last year.

We've already (reluctantly) accepted the first invitation we received last month. As I wrote earlier, dh & I will be spending Mother's Day living out every infertile woman/bereaved mother's bad dream -- attending a baptism (for stepBIL's son). Being that it is stepMIL's grandson -- her only, long-awaited grandchild -- we HAVE to go. There is no way we can excuse ourselves.

But today, I received an e-mail from one of dh's (female) cousins. If there is enough interest, she & one of the other female cousins are proposing to organize a Mother's Day brunch outing, just for "the girls" -- the aunts, the female cousins, their own daughters (who range in age from 2 to 18), & the male cousins' wives (including me).

I don't know whether the group brunch idea will ultimately come off. And obviously, having accepted the baptism invitation (& since FIL's wife trumps the aunts & cousins on the other side of the family anyway), I had to decline the brunch invitation.

I know there's a third choice -- digging in my heels & turning down both invitations, & doing what dh & I always do (cemetery, movie &/or shopping, avoidance, lol). Needless to say, I have no spine. ; )

But anyway, this got me thinking. Theoretically -- let's say I got both invitations on the same day at the same time -- and had to pick one (i.e., turning both down was not an option). Which invitation should/would I accept?

Other assumptions in this theoretical world:

• I am not having any problems with food reactions, so they are not a consideration in thinking about the food. ; )


• I don't have to worry about offending FIL if I go for brunch instead.

Factors to consider in each scenario:

• Baptism: There will be about 40-50 people attending. Only a handful of small children, if any, although there will certainly be much to-do made over the guest of honour. I will know most of the people there (stepMIL's family), although not extremely well. There will be other childless women there, although they are the doting aunts of the baby. We will be attending a church service, followed by lunch at an Italian restaurant, all close to where dh & I live.


• Brunch: If all those invited attend, there would be four older women, 10 cousins/cousins' wives, and five girls ages 2-18. I am probably more comfortable generally with this group, & they are a lot of fun to be around. I think it's nice to be included in the invitation. However!! I would be the only adult female there who does not have a (living) child. And, with the conversation at such gatherings usually very kid-focused, I am sure I would ultimately wind up feeling a little bored/frustrated/resentful/sad, etc. The restaurant has not been picked yet, and it would probably be farther from where I live (in which case I would have to either get dh to take me or hitch a ride with cousin/neighbour's wife, assuming she & her daughters are going too) but I'm sure it would be a nice brunch.

Which invitation would YOU accept, & why? I'm curious to hear your responses!

She's a little bit country, I'm a little bit sappy...

(This is post #250!)

How sappy am I, you ask? OK, confession time (but remember, I grew up in the 1970s).

I was an Osmonds fan.

Still am, actually. (Yes, I admit it.) Yes, I know. The teeth. The hair. The squeaky-cleanness. The imitation Elvis jumpsuits. The barbershop harmonies. The corny skits on the Donny & Marie Show. The Andy Williams Show, for crying out loud.

But when you're a 12-year-old girl living a sheltered small-town life in the 1970s (pre-Internet, pre-cellphones -- even pre-Pong, for Pete's sake...), that can all be mighty appealing -- the very idea of a guy who doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, and won't push you to do things you might not be ready for. The Osmonds were Mormons. I didn't know much about the Mormon faith then -- Mormons being a pretty rare species in my part of the world back then -- but I did know (from that font of knowledge, Tiger Beat Magazine) that they married not just "till death do us part," but for "time & eternity" -- and that sounded wildly romantic to my teenaged self.

Previously, a big David Cassidy poster had graced the door of my bedroom. (It was starting to wear a little on his lips, where I kissed him every night before I went to bed.) One early 1970s summer, however, however, my best friends from across the street saw the Osmonds on "American Bandstand" (which they taped on their audio cassette tape recorder -- which is what we did if we wanted to preserve a TV memory in those pre-VCR days), bought the "Osmonds Live" album & before long, my sister & I were hooked too. (Donny sang Elton John's "Your Song" on that album. I don't think I had heard of Elton John at that point -- remember, I was only 11 or 12 years old! -- but I fell in love with that song. It's still one of my favourites, and was a close runner-up for our first dance song at our wedding. Still do. So if anything, I owe the Osmonds for introducing me to Elton John!)

Anyway, by the time I was in high school, the posters eventually came down & my musical tastes diversified to Elton John, the Eagles, Linda Ronstadt and Fleetwood Mac (eventually)(I'll tell you about my last big teen idol fling -- the Bay City Rollers -- some other time...!!). But I still got a kick out of seeing the Osmonds on TV now & then. And still do, perhaps even more so, as the years have passed. They're a fond reminder of the more innocent days of my growing up years.

Of course, that was (gulp) well over 35 years ago. They're all older and greyer now -- but hey, so am I. ; ) They have had their share of personal problems and pain. They ran into financial problems in the 1980s and spent years paying off debts. Alan has MS. Wayne had a brain tumour (that was successfully operated on). Marie has been divorced (twice). Donny admitted to suffering from social anxiety in his memoir, Life is Just What You Make It, and is now a grandfather (!!!). Both of their parents have passed away.

But I still think they are an immensely talented family. And they can still make me cry, albeit for different reasons than when I was a lovesick teenager. I watched their family reunion show on "Oprah" & their 50th anniversary special on PBS last winter, Kleenex box at my side.

Back in the mid-1990s, I finally got to meet Donny, after standing in line my entire lunch hour (& then some) at the Toronto Eaton Centre, when he made a promotional appearance for "Joseph & the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" (when it played in Toronto the second time around). (My girlfriend & I later went to see the show & had a blast.) It was worth the wait. He was around 40 by then, I think -- he looked older (but hey, so did I!) -- but still damned good. : )

Anyway -- I didn't want to blog about the Osmonds for simple nostalgia's sake. I recently picked up Marie's new book, Might As Well Laugh About It Now. I had read her previous book, Behind the Smile, which described her struggles with post-partum depression, including a much-publicized incident in which she left her children with the babysitter and disappeared for a long drive up the California coast. (She later learned that her mother had done almost exactly the same thing, some 40 years earlier!) Marie now has eight children. Four of them are biological, four are adopted, and if you ask her which are which, she'll tell you she doesn't remember.

This book came about when she was asked to write a full autobiography. She decided she wasn't ready to do that but, in thinking back over the rich experiences of her life, she realized she had gained a lot of insight over the years that she could share. The book is a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" style collection of vignettes from Marie's personal and professional life -- some of them funny, some of them poignant -- and each chapter has a life lesson at its core for the reader.

The last chapter of the book, "You'll Be There," is the one that left me going, "Wow, I had no idea." I had dh read it & he had to admit it was pretty touching too. It describes the birth -- and death -- of Marie's niece, Jennifer -- her (non-performing) brother Tom's fifth child -- in 1981. Marie writes of how her mother and brother called her from the hospital, telling her the baby was not expected to live very long, and asking her to come support her brother.

Initially, Marie didn't think she could. She feared that she would "fall apart." "I couldn't face my brother's pain, knowing that there would be nothing I could do to fix it," she says.

But then she had a brief vision -- the image of a small, dark-haired girl, hugging her, greeting her at what appears to be the entrance to Heaven, saying, "You'll be there, won't you?

And so she went to the hospital. And comforted her brother. And held her tiny niece before she died.

"Jennifer was an impetus in the creation of the Children's Miracle Network, which, in turn, helps more than 17 million children and their families every single year," she writes. I knew that the Osmond family played a role in the creation of the Children's Miracle Network, but -- even though I consider myself a longtime fan -- I had never heard of baby Jennifer before this.

There is more to the story -- involving the death of Marie's mother a few years ago, the appearance of two monarch butterflies at her funeral (monarch butterflies, of course, hold a great deal of significance for dh & me and the members of our support group), and a Mother's Day shopping trip that leads to a special purchase (not to mention an ice cream sundae).

But I'll let you read it for yourself.

A funeral

Thursday morning, I was at my desk at work when my phone rang. The call display showed FIL's number.

I totally froze. My in-laws NEVER call me at work. I knew they were not just calling to say hello.

I did not want to pick up the phone.

But I knew I had to be a grownup. I steeled myself for whatever was about to come, & picked up the phone.

It was stepMIL -- and, as I had feared, it was bad news -- although not the news I had most dreaded. She was calling to tell me that one of dh's aunts had passed away. (SIL had given her my number; she didn't have dh's.) So I had the sad duty of calling my husband to tell him his aunt had died -- the first one of his father's siblings to pass away.

His aunt, not quite two years younger than FIL (who is the eldest of the 7 sibilings -- all but two now living in Canada) had not been entirely well. Alzheimer's disease has robbed her memory these last several years, to the point that she knew none of us anymore, but she actually died of a heart attack.

Visitation was Sunday, & the funeral was today. Dh & I had a volunteer meeting for our support group during the day, so we went in the evening. Even though I was among friends, & other bereaved mothers, I found my throat constricting during our volunteer meeting (hours after I'd had breakfast). Anxiety rearing its ugly, irrational head again. : ( On the bright side, I made it through lunch (a salmon salad sandwich with some cantaloupe & pineapple slices) without incident. Got through the funeral home visit OK, but felt a brief bit of anxiety again toward the end of our visit.

Woke up at 3 a.m. & couldn't get back to sleep. I finally figured out that there were two things that were bothering me. First, one of dh's cousins had remarked that Aunt's blood pressure the previous day had been unusually high -- 170/110 -- & the dr was to visit her to adjust her medication. (My own blood pressure, of course, has spiked at almost that level recently, albeit in the throes of a food reaction/anxiety attack.)

The second? Aunt was wearing her glasses in her casket. I had smiled & remarked to dh that I was glad they did that, because it made Aunt look more like herself. I recalled that my grandmother also wore her glasses in her casket. Illness had changed her appearance so much that, if it weren't for the glasses, she would have been totally unrecognizable to me. That got me thinking about my grandmother, & how much I still miss her, almost 10 years later. And that got me sobbing.

Finally drifted off to sleep again for a few more hours before we got up & got ready for the funeral. It was a Catholic mass, of course. Several of dh's cousins had brought their small children along (everyone in the family who could babysit was all there), including one sweet baby girl, born last November -- almost 10 years to the day from Katie's due date.

That alone might have been bearable -- but then the priest launched into his homily -- an ode to Aunt, & her devotion to motherhood & grandmotherhood. Really, what more could be said about Aunt? She did not work, certainly not after she had her children. When I first met her, some 25 years after her arrival in Canada, she still could barely speak English. Her family was her life.

The priest went on & on, extolling the virtues & the rewards of motherhood. He talked about the pains that mothers go through during delivery (like he knows??). "But the moment she hears her baby cry, the pain is all worth it."

Yes, I thought, but what about those of us who get to go through labour without hearing that cry at the end of it all? And those who never get to be pregnant at all, try as they might?

And then I remembered how, shortly after Katie's stillbirth, dh & I had gone over to FIL's house, & Aunt & Uncle had been there. Some brief condolences were exchanged. Aunt said something to dh in Italian & I saw his expression change. "Really??" he said.

He turned to me: "It happened to her, too." He asked her a question in Italian, & she responded, her eyes cast down at the table. "Seven months," he said to me. "I had no idea."

I touched Aunt's arm. "Girl or boy?" I said. "A little girl," she whispered, with pain in her eyes, & then shook her head, lips set together.

So before Aunt knew the joy of a baby's cry, she too also knew the wrenching sorrow of a silent delivery room. I thought of that, & of that nameless (to me, anyway), forgotten baby girl, as the priest talked.

I hope wherever they both are now, they have found each other at last.

Yesterday's visit with Dr. Allergist

I managed to make it through the rest of the week after Monday without another reaction (yay me). Yesterday was my long-awaited appointment with Dr. Allergist. I set my food diary in front of her & she said, "So, what conclusions have you reached?" (Like I'm the doctor?!)

I told her I don't dispute that I may have some food allergies -- but I thought that at least some of this might be anxiety-related. And after listening to me for awhile, although she didn't outright say so, I got the feeling she thought so too (!). She also didn't discount my hormones theory, saying there is definitely a connection between hormones & asthma and hormones & migraines... but then she said, "But then what do you do about it?" (i.e., there is not much you CAN do). She said she could send me to a gynecologist, & I told her I had already been to Dr. Ob-gyn that week & he didn't think I needed blood tests or hormone supplements at this point.

She did more scratch tests on me for about a dozen more fruits & vegetables (all of which were negative), & had some blood drawn. Told me I shouldn't be afraid to eat but to use caution on the foods that may be a problem for me. She seemed particularly concerned about those that cross-react with tree & grass pollen (which is sometimes a seasonal problem for me) -- including apples, pears, peaches, plums, nectarines, cherries, & almonds -- in raw form, that is (cooked is better, boiled is best). These have never been a problem for me in the past, but...

She also suggested that I should try taking a daily antihistamine for awhile,that it might help break the cycle I seem to be in right now. I asked whether that would raise my blood pressure, & she said no, it's decongestants that do that, not antihistamines. I'm going to double-check with my family dr, but I think I'd like to try it (especially since she said I can take one of the non-sedating ones instead of the Benadryl, which totally throws me for a loop). I'm going to go back to see her in July.

In the end, she told me she is not too worried about me -- & not to be afraid to eat! So I'm feeling better & more hopeful about the situation. It was a 15-minute walk there & then back again from the subway -- a wealthy, midtown neighbourhood full of big old brick houses & big old trees, not far from the apartment where we lived when we were first married. It was a GORGEOUS day! (& I went straight from the dr's office to the train station to meet dh) That made me feel better too. : )