Plans are Stupid

I've had a "Top 10" list for as long as I can remember. Recently, I've started a "101 in 1,001" list that helps me to set lots and lots of little goals to be completed in about three years. It's a lot of fun to check things off and keep myself motivated to get out, do more, and feel proud of what I've done.


But that is really hard to do when you're not allowed to make plans. I was talking to a friend about my list this weekend, and she mentioned that she'd like to help me with two of my goals: #54- Ride our horses up a particular Aspen-laden hill in the fall, and #86 - Go water-skiing on the reservoir near our house. My first instinct was to say, "Heck yeah!", but in the back of my mind, I am hoping with all my heart that I can't do either one of those things this summer. I'd rather be pregnant.

It's cool. I'll just stick to some of my other goals, like: #80 - Camp overnight at the bluegrass fest, #42 - Go to Taos, NM, #61 - Enter a photo in the State Fair, etc. I can do those things no matter what.

Because we all know what #1 is...

Little Victories

At the risk of being called the "crazy childless aunt" who hoards cats and calls her horses her "children," I have been working with horses a lot lately. Before this, my time was pretty evenly split between work and…well, work. The weekends would come and I would spend most of it with my husband and dogs, and some of it at school. While I have been diligently working on my 101 in 1,001 list, finding things to do and places to go, my "everyday" life wasn't really filled with anything that I could call a significant hobby, something I looked forward to doing on a regular basis. I've tried running, but that's very seasonal, and not even really my cup of tea. (I really do hate running, I just love what it does for my body.)

Two months ago, I met a woman who needed help with her horses. She'd taken in two new ones, both abused, and had little time to train her own and spend time with these needy ones. So, I started coming over and brushing, walking, riding, and desensitizing (to strange noises or situations) two of her horses. It is amazing. The gratification that I have not been getting from my work (most times it seems that the kids just hate what and how I teach), or my body (that still refuses to get any kind of pregnant), I am finding with these animals. Every time I work or spend time with them, they do something that they didn't do before. Like yesterday, Maverick (a beautiful Appaloosa) stood completely still while I brushed and cleaned him. He's never done that for anyone, his owner said. I did that! My love, care, and attention made a discernable difference! It feels good to have small victories, even if they are equine in nature. I had forgotten how good it feels to accomplish something tangible. I hope everyone has something like this that makes them feel helpful and appreciated. I wish I had found this a year ago…

New Year, New Me...Really

I buried my youth today. One of the things that has bugged me about infertility these last two years is that I feel like I'm stuck between two lives: my youth and parenthood. I went from being a raft-guiding, college girl to being a wife and teacher, expecting children to be close at hand. I only got married when I felt the ticking of my biological clock. (Don't worry, I loved my husband just as much then as I do now, but my mother always told me I would know I'd found my husband when I discovered that I loved him so much I'd want to have his children. She was right.) I just assumed that it would be a quick transition between fun-loving freedom and buckle-down parenthood, and I was ready for the leap. It has not been a smooth transition at all: it has been a long, frustrating, drawn-out affair that has put my identity into question.

I hold on to my youth and my experiences in a small, black, Molskine notebook. I've had it since the year 2000 and have chronicled all the books I've read, pithy phrases that have made an impact on me, things I've done, and things I mean to do. Every so often, I look back in this book and remind myself of who I am, what I want, and where I've been. Today I decided, however, that I need to re-evaluate things. I need to figure out who I am as an adult without kids. What are the things that inspire me? What do I want? What do I like to do?

So, I got out the new, red Molskine that I bought at the National Gallery in England this summer. I knew that my old black one was going to eventually run out of pages, and I was lamenting the fact that I'd have to switch over. But this, I think, is much better. I made a conscious decision to lay it to rest. It is no more. Now I have a fresh book, blank and inviting, waiting to be filled with quotes from new books, clippings from new magazines, lists of movies I want to see, and such. I am not the same person I was ten years ago, and I need to let go of that. I also need to let go of any preconceived notions I had about who I would be and what I would have at 31 (in one month) years of age. It's a new dawn, and I'm going to fill the page of my new year with a new me. (Though the old me can still hang out when I listen to Taio Cruz and go out dancing.)

Hooray for Cherries on Top! (I'm kinda hungry, actually...)

Thank you to Heather at The Road Less Traveled for nominating me for the 'Cherry on Top' award! In my third day of my 2WW, this really made my day. And, my fellow teacher, you know how hard that is to do when you're less than three weeks from Winter Vacation...the kids are crazy!

I'd like to nominate the following awesome women:

Josey at My Cheap Version of Therapy - she snowboards and battles infertility, my hero

Oak at The Acorn Chronicles - giving support and hope at the same time

Tishi at Learning to Swim in a Sea of Baby Bumps - because I thought it was hard being a teacher and not having kids, but she is going to have to keep her (delightful) little secret from all those preggos she works with!

H.C. Bishop at Life as a Navy Wife and Everything Else - because she's sassy and fun, and she's going to be 3 weeks along soon! Yay!

Ana at Our Pregnancy Journey - because her story makes me believe in science, and she makes cute blankets, too!

Thank you, ladies, for all of your support and help. I heart you!
(Thanks, also, to all the other gals who have already been nominated for the award and who offer their comments and companionship - I heart you, too!)

My List

Infertility is like a supervillain. It has the unique power to make one feel useless. Normally confident, intelligent, energetic women are rendered frustrated, downtrodden, and mopey by Intfertility's pernicious influence. It can defeat you by making you feel unproductive. One weapon against Infertility is work: work, work, work. Unfortunately, it has an evil henchman called "The Weekend", when you have lots of time to think about what you're NOT doing...

I have found a way to combat Infertility: the 101 in 1,001 List. If you haven't made one - you totally SHOULD! As you check things off the list, it makes you feel like you've accomplished something worthy and important. Sure, it's not the "one" thing that you want to accomplish, but it's still worthwhile!

Today, I got to check off: Take a crochet lesson. My little town doesn't have much, but there happen to be a plethora of retired women who will do just about anything for $25. So, I spent 2 hours today learning how to do a fancy crochet stitch. My goal is to make my sister's new baby (due in May) a baby blanket. My grandmother used to make them for all of us, and she passed away about 8 years ago, so I'm picking up where she left off. Plus, it will give me something to do on our 18-hour drive out to Cali in December. You can only listen to so many books on tape…

Get on Day Zero Projectand make a list of your own! You can even look at my list for ideas if you want: my username is ashleeneva. What will you do today?

Strenght in Numbers - Yeah!

If there's strength in numbers, November is going to be a banner month. Just when I'm feeling very alone in this battle, I get some comments and emails from some fantastic women who are going through the same things. I have to say: I am very encouraged by the rash of IUI-induced pregnancies that I've been reading about lately. (Congratulations, Oak, I'm so excited for you - you give me hope!) And while I'm beginning my fourth IUI (second on gonadatropins), I am in good company. Tishi and H.C. Bishop are going to be / have gotten some syringe lovin' lately, too. I have my fingers crossed for all of us! Send good luck to Micruber with her IVF, too! I hope you don't mind me posing some links to your blogs, gals, but your words and your dedication to blogging has given me strength, and I want to keep it going!

Happy Un-Birthday to ME!

I should preface this post by repeating: It's not my birthday. It did, however, really feel like it today! No joke - the universe was trying to tell me something today, and that something was: "You are loved and respected, and everything is going to be okay." After yesterday, I needed that.

Seriously. I was about to have a meltdown about how to teach MLA works cited to 11-year olds (damn you, CSAP), when suddenly, one of my students walked in. She had saved a bunch of her Halloween candy for me because we always joke about her being my "adopted daughter" during the holidays because I don't have any kids of my own. Yes, a child actually GAVE me her candy. Adorable! Then, only two hours later, my paraprofessional (whose daughter works at a posh thrift store up north) came in with a bag of ultra-awesome sunglasses and told me I could pick a pair. So, I selected a sweet little pair of Dior (I've never owned anything that I could see in Style Magazine in my life) sunglasses. Amazing! Then, my running buddy and good friend came in and dropped a bag of homemade zucchini bread on my desk. So fresh it was practically warm. Unbelievable! Later in the day, when I emailed everyone at school to ask for nominations for a "cool co-worker" award (I'm president of the Social Committee at work), TWO people wrote back that they wanted to nominate ME! Fantastic! Lastly, my nurse at the RE only had to stick me once instead of twice or three times for my bloodwork (I have a "rolling" vein). Marvelous!

I feel loved. This IUI is going to work. There are too many people rooting for me for it to fail. Come on ovaries, let's get going…

Everybody's Wearing it This Season

One of my favorite blogs is hosting a giveaway to a super-adorable clothing company that I love and regularly buy from. On her website, the blogger has on a really cute coat…that barely fits over her prego belly. I stuck with her when she announced that she was pregnant, but it seems that pregnancy infiltrates every aspect of a woman's life and blog. (I can only read so many "how to turn your boring regular t-shirt into a nifty maternity t-shirt!" or "how to knit baby booties with organic yarn" posts. It seems that everyone is pregnant, though, and this blogette and her followers are no exception. Despite the fact that the jacket would always seem like maternity wear to me (thanks to the photo of her looking adorable in it), I decided to go for it. Then I started reading through all the other entries. "It would look so cute and cover my baby bump from the cold!" one chirped. "I'm pregnant to and love to see cute clothes for us!" quipped another. Oh, geez. Like you need anything else in the world to make you excited about pregnancy. Bite me.

So it seems like this season's fashion accessory is a big belly. Since I can't get a belly by being pregnant…would a beer belly suffice? Helllooo New Belgium 2°Below Winter Ale…yum. Maybe I'll even post pictures by the week of my growing midsection. How adorable is that!? (BTW - husband says, "not so adorable." Dang.)

(The picture is of my husband's hops, by the way, which he uses to make beer. Little trivia for you.)

I Am So Going to Kick A** At Being a Mom

I could never be tricked into saying that I'm a patient person - generally. If anything, I am the one who pulls the brownies out of the oven 10 minutes early and still enjoys eating them even though they're not even remotely done except on the very outside. But there is one area in which I virtually EXUDE patience: in my classroom. I can't count (no, seriously, that's why I'm an English teacher) the amount of times I explain a menial task every day. While I don't tolerate laziness, I do appreciate an honest question, and am so happy to help the student who helps himself. I revel in explaining a concept to a student and watch as they use their newfound knowledge.

I am going to be such a patient mom. I will explain the world to them with the calm, even voice of a teacher, and the heart of a mother. I'm not totally delusional - I know there will be days when I am tired, frustrated, and short with my kids. But, I will be acclimated to the rigors of dealing with dozens (if not hundreds) of questions a day. I'm waiting with bated breath to hear that one beautiful question that every two-year-old utters: "Why?"

The Things I CAN Do...

Okay, it turns out that a nap and a few cups of green tea can do wonders for your mood. It's amazing how your mind and body work in tandem: when the body becomes too tired, the brain get all out of whack, too. I'm all better today, ready to tackle a new week and help to inspire a new generation of young authors.

I know that this blog is not supposed to be about my work, but sometimes my work is what makes me feel productive and useful, despite being infertile. I've been excited about this new project at school and thought I would share with you, especially since a few of my followers (you're awesome!) are teachers, too.

There's nothing that I value more than the written word. It educates us, placates our sense of loneliness, and allows us to escape the oft-tedious milieu of our own lives. Through the written word we find solace, comfort, excitement, and inspiration. Thus, there's nothing that gives me more joy than inspiring my kids (my 128 darling students) to write. We are participating in the Young Writer's Program through NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in November. Beginning on November 1st, my students are going to write (you guessed it) a novel. It's been a tough two weeks trying to get them interested and confident in the project. They worry that they won't be able to write enough (you only have to get about a half-page of writing done every day to reach 2,000 words by the end of the month) or write a brilliant story (which isn't the point, the point is to write a novel - be it good or terrible). But as of last Friday, my kids were excited, energetic, and raring to begin their opus. Nothing makes me more proud than to hear, "Mrs.S, can we go over our word count goal? Can we work on this at home? Can my parents buy a copy of my book when it's done?" Sigh. I love the sound of eager learning in the morning.

For those of you thinking that this would be fun, please check out www.ywp.nanowrimo.org and look at all the great resources that they have to offer teachers. And if you're interested in writing a novel yourself (hello? Bucket list material?), sign up for NaNoWriMo and write a 50,000-word novel by Novemeber 30th. We may not be able to procreate, but our experiences, imaginative journeys, and literary prowess are gifts worth giving.

Have fun!

I'm Not a Mom, But I'm Awesome

Since I devote a large amount of time to my students, I also try to devote some time to me, too. (If I had kids, I would spend the remainder of my free time on them, but…) So, I've been running lately because there's nothing to keep your mind off of your inabilities like highlighting your abilities. In the last two weeks, I've run two 5K races. I've never been much of a long-distance runner, and clearly remember trying desperately (hiding in the showers was not an option, as our PE teacher could sniff out any deserters) to get out of running the timed 1.5 mile back in middle school. (Ah, those were the days…when we gave a darn about our student's physical fitness level.) But, I've searched and searched for a cheap and easy hobby that I can do at a moment's notice with very little prep work - and running is it.

Not only does running give me a natural "high" that I can't really explain (even if it is talked about in the fitness magazines), but it also gives me something to work for. In this time of uncertainty, running gives me a definite finish line. Sometimes, it even earns me a tangible reward. Last weekend was one of those times. After training for weeks, my friends and I ran a little 5K along the riverwalk in town, and we all PR'd like crazy. I even came in third in my age group (never you mind how many people were in my age group) and received a shiny bronze medal. It was the best reward that I've gotten in the past few months. I worked for it, I earned it, and now it's hanging from my rearview mirror. This is how the world should be: you plan, you work hard, and you earn the things you want. I wish my reproductive system had gotten that memo. Anyway, I may not be a mom, but I think I'm pretty darn awesome. And you are, too.

This Body

Over the past 30 years, I've put my body to the test. When I was just 6, I used to climb into trees with my brothers, pulling myself up branches with nothing but sheer will. At 8 years of age, I learned to water ski, and subjected my body to all sorts of contortionist positions as I fell at speeds of 15 miles per hour. At 15, I learned how to ride a motorcycle and crash landed into burms and mud puddles more often than I care to admit. When I was 20 I traveled to New Zealand and completed the holy trinity of bungee jumps, including the Nevis Highwire Bungee, over a canyon deeper than it was wide. And it was wide. At 21 I flew over the handlebards of my mountain bike on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. When I was 24 I trained to be a whitewater raft guide, flipping and dunking, swimming and grunting all the way through seven weeks of training and torture.

I stood at the mirror yesterday and took a look at my body. It is a strong body. It's carried me over states, bodies of water, and even continents. It's done everything I've ever asked of it, even changed shape a time or two. (Damn you, Freshman 15.) So forgive me if I can't understand why, at 30 years old, my body has suddenly refused to do what I ask of it. I'm not asking for feats of strength beyond average. I'm not asking it to look differently than my genetics dictate. (Thought at 16, I really did want it to look a little bustier.) I'm just asking it to do what women everywhere seem to have no problem doing naturally.

Maybe I asked to much of it in my youth. Maybe, but it was sure fun.

I May Not Be a Good Procreator...

…but I'm a pretty dang good aunt, sister, and daughter. Recently, I had the opportunity (re: year of scrimping and saving) to visit my sister, brother-in-law, and their 18-month old daughter in Germany. It was a wonderful trip and, of course, I took the opportunity to shoot some adorable pictures of my niece. We did family pictures, individual pictures, and vast amounts of pictures of the baby. I even took a video of her singing (or trying to sing) the ABC's. It's pretty darn cute.

So now, I have a bunch of pictures of the little darling, and I think to myself: "You know who would really love these? The grandparents!" So I create a CD cover, select the very best of the photos, burn them to a disk, and pop them in the mail. I send one to my sister, one to our parents, and one to the other set of grandparents. Gratis. Because I know it will bring them joy. At one point, I realize that I would rather be sending them all pictures of my own daughter. I should be packaging up a CD of a baby who looks like me, loves her Grandpa, and is learning to play in the garden next to her Daddy. But, alas, that is not to be. So, even if I can't give them the good news they've been waiting for from me…I can at least herald the coming of my niece's two front teeth. It's better than nothing.

Cover Me, I'm Going In...

Wedding season is winding down, and I'm pretty proud of myself. Not only have I managed to get through about a dozen weddings without grabbing the bride, shaking her, and yelling, "start trying now, you poor, naive soul!", but I also took some pretty good pictures. I held it together through most of the father-daughter dances while thinking of how proud my own father would be if I produced a bouncing baby girl (Dad loves babies). I even managed to smile winningly while one grandmother after another barraged me with questions about my own body clock. Yes, I am married. No, I don't have kids. Cool it, Grandma!

But today is going to be different. Today, the bride is a good friend. This means that there will be, you guessed it, other acquaintances at the wedding. Acquaintances who know that we've been married for two years now. Acquaintances who remember me joking that I'd go away to grad school and come home with a Masters in Mommyhood. Acquaintances who will, no doubt, ask what the problem is.

These are the days I wish there was a rent-a-baby service. I could go to the wedding with my fake baby in tow, show her off, and look like any other normal couple. "She has your eyes," they'd say. "Suckers…" I'd whisper. Or maybe I could rent a set of emotional armor, so that when people asked hurtful questions, my Infertility Shield would deflect them from my ears. If only. I guess I'll just go armed with a smile and a joke about how teaching 120 rugrats is enough "kid" for me right now. Keep your attention on the bride, people.

(Oh, by the way I'm Not a Mom, But I'm Awesome - that photo is mine. It's pretty.)

The Joys of Non-Parenthood

In the latest installment of "I'm Not a Mom, But I'm Awesome", I'd like to discuss the ease and comfort of traveling without a baby / child. Recently, my husband and I got back from a trip abroad, and I must say: We had a fantastic time. We did whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted, and wherever we wanted. We weren't hindered by the length of time away from our hotel, the distance to a baby changing station, or the child-friendliness of our activities. At one point, we rented bikes and rode across a beautiful garden in Munich. There's nothing I love more than a spontaneous bike ride on a shady gravel path, dappled with sunlight and strewn with leaves. When you have kids, very little is spontaneous. It's planned. Pacifiers must be packed, snacks brought, naptimes considered…it's all very complicated.

So I may not be a mom, but I can get up and go, see, visit, relax, play, or ride. On the seat of my bicycle, 3,000 miles from home. Sans diaper bag.

Careful...she's gonna blow!

We all knew it was going to happen - the imminent emotional meltdown that comes from spending too much time in the company of babies. I thought I would be able to get through the week of being with my sister and her family, but today I made an idiotic mistake: I volunteered to help make my niece's scrapbook pages for the first 12 months of her life. Why, you ask? Because it needed doing and I'm darn good at stuff like that. And I was doing fine until...

...I got to all the cards that the rest of my family had sent to my sister and my niece when she was born. They were signed by my own dad, brothers, and grandparents. I could hear the pride in their voice and the joy in their words as they wrote to congratulate my sister and her husband on their newest addition. (The last addition to my family had four legs and did not get an adorable announcement / shower.) It hurt so much to know that I may not be able to give my parents and family the satisfaction of seeing their daughter / sister / whatever make a contribution to the continuation of our family lineage. I may not see (at least in the forseeable future) the look of utter happiness on my Dad's face when he gets to finally dress up his grandaughter (that has his nose) in Harley Davidson garb. (Let it be known that my sister is really my step-sister, so I still feel like having a baby would be a "first" for my Dad, as it is just a little different with your blood-relations. Let it also be known that I love my sister dearly.)

Luckily, when the situation became too much and I began to shed big, fat tears, she totally understood. She said all the right things and none of the bad ones ("It will happen..."). She hugged me and admitted that she didn't know what it must feel like - which she doesn't.

So, we got that out of the way. Now can I just enjoy being with my family in Germany, for crying out loud?! Because my little niece is just adorable, and taking photos of her is so much fun...

Trip Update

Hello all!

This is your intrepid infertile explorer writing to you from the far corners of civilized Western Europe. We are currently in a lovely little hamlet called Harrogate, where there seem to be an inordinate number of both retirees (pensioners) and...you guessed it - babies. Good god, is there something in the water here? Incidentally, there is a "miracle" well of sulpher water in town that I attempted to drink, just in case. If the cure-all for infertility is in water that smells like rotten eggs and tases like the inside-out bowels of roadkill, then count me out. Nothing that foul could be the cure for anything, except a relationship that you want out of. (One sniff of that on your breath would send any man running.)

Hubby and I have had a really nice time rambling around the Yorkshire countryside. So much, in fact, that I'm almost able to turn a blind eye to all of the adorable prams being pushed about. Almost... But don't worry, my friends, as it turns out there are a plethora of baby-challenged women here in the UK, too. It seems to be as much an issue here as it is there. I even read an article in a magazine (much like a younger version of Redbook) about a new book by a guru of infertility about a special diet for IVF. (Which looks like I may need to pick up, as plan A did not work out, sadly. More on that later, still drying my tears at the moment.)

Must go - early to sleep and rise tomorrow. Jetting of to London for a half-day, then Germany on Wednesday. Hope you all are weathering your collective joys and sorrows well, I will be back to read and comment in just one short week.

All the best,

Ashlee

I've Got a Bun in the Oven. No, Really, I'm Baking Something.

I may not be able to pull a Catherine Heigl (a-la 'Knocked Up') and produce a baby on a whim, but I'll tell you what I can do: make a killer meal. That's right - because I don't have kids running around, I can achieve culinary masterpieces like from-scratch Cinnamon Raisin bread and delicious Asparagus Parmesan Risotto. Since I don’t have to work around naptimes and coloring contests, I can have the house smelling like rising dough and baking bread by the time my husband gets home from work. (Don't worry, the irony of trading one domestic trap for another is not escaping me altogether.) I can ride my bike to the store to pick up much-needed accoutrement, like saffron and chipotle chili powder, AND I don't have to worry about stocking up on diapers or formula while I'm there! I can make things that most kids would take a "no thank you bite" of and go running for the pizza rolls. Why can I do all this? Because I'm not a mom, but I'm awesome. Be awesome today, my friends. (Even if you cheated and used a bread-maker. Shhhhh.)

Infertility Sucks, But Hiking Is FUN!

You know what hurts the most about not having kids? It's thinking that everyone else is part of a very cool club called "Motherhood", and you can't do half of what they do because you don't have the golden ticket - a kid. Well, you know what? There's a new club in town - it's called the "I get all my sleep and can go anywhere on a whim because I don't have to find a sitter" Club. That's right - only women without kids can join. And you know what we're going to do? Whatever the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks we want to! Because that's what you get to do when you don't have the financial and time restrictions that mommies do. I can pick up at the drop of a hat (as long as it's during summer or a break from school) and travel the world. I can run off to Seattle or Miami or San Diego as often as my pocketbook will allow. ( As long as I don't have an IUI scheduled that week, that is.)

I think it's time to stop dwelling on what we can't do, and start focusing on what we can do. I for one am tired of seeing all those pictures on Facebook that feature women doing things that I simply can't - running stroller races or attending Mommy-and-Me classes with their bundles of joy. There are so many things that I can do that they can't, and I need to start focusing on those things. I'm going to start a club, dammit. We're not just going to blog about our feelings and cry on each other's shoulders (though if the need arisis, that will be a scheduled activity) - we're going to DO things, see places, and celebrate the fact that we are young, healthy, vibrant individuals who have a lot to see in this wide world. (Besides, all this traveling and experiencing will just make us better moms in the long run.) It's going to start this week, and it's not going to stop. If nature won't give us what we want, we'll take from it what we will.