We Are Not Alone (the Perks of a Rabid Fandom)

Kelly and I are, among other things, Whovians.  You probably have a Whovian in your life.  You'll know them by their insistence that "bow ties are cool," their use of words like "timey-wimey," "allons-y," or "fantastic."  They may own a mile-long scarf.  They may have a bumper sticker alleging "my other ride is a TARDIS."  If you are looking for a fun fandom to be a part of, look no further than the fandom of Doctor Who.

Fandoms can be a tricky thing.  I was a fan of Star Wars, for example, before it was cool (and then subsequently uncool again).  Star Wars fans have a complicated, love-hate relationship with that which they obsess over.  As much as they love everything George Lucas gave them, they hate everything he continues to give them (this is a broad stroke statement that doesn't describe every fan, but the fandom as a whole).  It can be a very frustrating fandom to be a part of.

Enter The Doctor.  If you know nothing about Doctor Who, it's a show that is celebrating it's 50th anniversary in 2013.  It's a fantastic British sci-fi show about an enigmatic time-traveller called The Doctor who uses his ability to travel all of time and space to leave things better than he found them.  As you can imagine, it's a show that can be daunting to get into -- it's been on for fifty years (more or less).

Enter The Whovians.  Doctor Who fans know how intimidating getting into the show can be.  But they know how rewarding it is being a Whovian that each and every one of them has their own recommended way of getting into the show.  They're a patient lot, who are more than willing to hold your hand and answer all your questions until you're addicted and running off on your own adventures with The Doctor.  That's not to say they don't bicker.  Every fandom has its arguments.  But in the case of Doctor Who, most of the arguments come down to being a clash of preferences.  Most of the time, everyone walks away still happy, still friends, and still hoping the TARDIS shows up in the back yard.  I believe this is because of the intelligence lying beneath most episodes of Doctor Who.

Doctor Who is a show about something.  It's easy to dismiss it as a silly sci-fi with lots of unnecessary running about, silly monsters, and implausible story lines.  At first glance, that's all it really is.  But then you notice the Daleks are a thinly veiled critique of fascism, and the Cybermen are a condemnation of mindless conformity and . . . oh my goodness . . . these are all metaphors!  Well, not all of them.  Some are just men in silly suits.  But even those Freak of the Week episodes are still filled with characters grounded in a relate-able reality that will often leave you with a few questions for you to ponder about your own life.  If you find yourself on a Doctor Who message board or swapping favorite stories with a fellow Whovian, it's not at all uncommon for someone to bring up how a particular episode, or a particular character, helped them through a particularly tough time.

Take Amy and Rory -- the Eleventh Doctor's current companions -- for example.  They've had a rocky relationship since we first met them.  But they've also had an endearing and enduring relationship.  Collectively, as a fandom, we're rooting for them just as much as we're rooting for The Doctor.  This most recent episode, well . . .

Amy drops the very large bomb in Rory's lap (as well as the audience's lap) that she's incapable of having children.  I was not expecting that.  I don't expect other people, especially people who have been in the TARDIS, to have any idea of what it's like to be me.  Yet here are these two fictitious characters crying and fighting and using words that have been used by me and people I know who have also fought and cried over the exact same thing.  It hit me right in the back of the throat.  The room started to blur and I was suddenly very glad I was watching the episode by myself.  The moment passed and I loved the show all the more.

Enter The Whovians.  I was not alone with all of these feelings.  Megan Lavey-Heaton, co-author of the webcomic Namesake, shared a glimpse into her and her husband's struggle with infertility.  You can read the whole blog post here (which also serves as a review of the Doctor Who episode, "Asylum of the Daleks").  But I had to share a couple of exceprts here because the post was so refreshingly honest that my heart broke as I was being encouraged and reminded that, indeed, we are not alone.

Infertility is a horrible, horrible beast. There are days that you’re perfectly fine, that you can go “I’m OK with this. I’ve got a wonderful career and a husband who loves me and medical science that can do a lot. I’m under 35, I can do this.”

Then there are other days when you hate yourself. When you feel that your husband, who moved across an ocean for you, could do much better. You want kids, and he wants kids. But what you’re trying isn’t working. You go to the doctor. The drugs aren’t working. There’s more drugs you can take. Expensive procedures, but where do you draw the line? And even though you can and do live an fantastic life, surrounded by love, opportunities to travel and a fulfilling career, you feel like a failure — especially when you’re surrounded by a culture and social media that rubs it in your face. It is so hard to go on places like Facebook and see hundreds of photos of your peer’s newborn babies.

You’re also in mourning, dealing with this. You have to go through the grieving process, even if you never planned on having kids. 

Different people react in different ways.

Amy is so much a mirror of the Doctor emotionally. No wonder they get along so well. Amy handled the infertility issue in a way that was in-character for her and that mirroring of the Doctor. They both run away so much until forced to confront themselves by a catalyst: River for the Doctor and Rory for Amy. Then they act and grow. When you look at Amy now and the Amy we met in “The Eleventh Hour,” it’s such a brilliant story of growth. Amy then acted in such a selfish manner in running away. Now, she’s grown to where she loves Rory so damn much that she is willing to sacrifice everything for him to be happy. And that is gorgeous — and all Moffat.

The "Moffat" she refers to in that last sentence is the show's incorrigible show-runner, Steven Moffat.  He delights in our pain and torture and we love him for it.

The fact that Steven Moffat was willing to approach this topic in a show that could just be about its special effects and its quippy, banter-filled scripts meant so much to me.  It gave courage to people.  For some, it was a "if Amy and Rory can figure this out, so can I" moment.  For others, it provided catharsis.  For others yet, it provided a time and place to talk about something they might not have -- and I think that's important.

It's important to know we are not alone.

-S

Just Say No?

It has been almost a month since we were approved to be foster parents.

There are 408,000 children are in foster care in the US and 107,000 of those are eligible for adoption, per the FosterCare Statistics 2010 Fact Sheet.

We have gotten three calls with placement offers and one call for respite care. We said no to all three placement calls. The first was a toddler who only needed a temporary placement. The other two were teenage girls.  The first was a 17 y/o girl who “just needed someone to help get her through senior year.” She turns 18 in February. The second was a 16 year old girl who had just come into custody and desperately wanted to stay at the high school near our home. I was the one to have the conversations and ultimately say no.

We watched two brothers, ages 10 and 11, Saturday night as respite care for another foster family.  They were with us for four hours and we had a lot of fun. They walked right in and made themselves at home, asking a TON of questions. They were excited to meet our dogs and give them treats.

We introduced the boys to root beer floats and Legos. They were enamored with the chalk board on the wall in Scott’s office. “You can draw ON the wall?!?” They asked all about our family, how we met, and why we didn’t have any other kids. They were shocked that they were our first foster kids. They said that they had never been anyone’s first foster kids. They were extremely polite. They said yes ma’am and yes sir. They even put their dishes in the sink. For being 10 and 11 they knew a lot about the foster system. They insisted that we do a lot of thing other adults just don’t do – I guess we do play with Legos. . . By the end of the evening they both asked to stay with us.  We told them that not every day at our house was as much fun as that night. We also do laundry, clean the litter box, and do homework. They swore that they LOVE to fold laundry.

They did really well until it was time to be picked up by their foster family. They started arguing and fighting with each other as soon as their foster-mom called and said that she was on her way. It was interesting to see how reluctant they were to make the transition. Of course it was way past a reasonable bed time for 10 and 11 year olds, but we could read them like an open book. They were tired and had a lot of hurt behind their eyes. We don’t even know what that may be.

I am struggling with the emotional impact of saying no to children I don’t know and then also to these boys that we had in our home. It’s kind of heart wrenching to say no when the child asks you directly. We have said that we want to adopt rather than pursue fertility treatments so we can put our resources toward helping kids who are already here. We prayerfully and thoughtfully created a profile that says ages 0-5 years.  But it breaks my heart to say no to children who need a home. It will be much harder for the agency to find homes for these boys than a child under 5 years old. My rational side says remember the profile; stick to the profile you created when you were not emotional. But I feel like that may just be the excuse of a scared person. What if we say no to someone just because they don’t fit the picture of what we think our family looks like? What if it is just my fear or selfishness or doubts that keeps us from being parents to someone who needs us? Sometimes I don’t think I am mature enough for this.

Lots of thoughts…I’ll just keep waiting.

--K

Things I Have Learned Through Infertility

1. It is okay to feel sad, angry, lonely, or jealous. But not okay to let those feelings consume you or define you.
2. Ice cream with friends makes things a little brighter.
3. Having friends who take you out for ice cream after failed fertility treatments are WONDERFUL.
4. It is okay to say no to invitations to baby showers or other events. The friends and family who love you will understand. Those who don’t, don’t really matter.
5. Laughter is good. Laughter about dark or sad things is even funnier.
6. My husband and God love me more than I always understand.
7. It does not make me less of a woman, no matter what the monologue in my head says.
8. I am not the only one who is or has gone through this. More people than you know or imagine have experienced being reproductively challenged. You just need to reach out.
9. It is good to be busy.
10. You will reach a point where occasionally you won’t be thinking about it or counting days since ovulation. That still doesn’t mean you will get pregnant, despite what “they say.”
11. People without children get to stay out late, sleep in, be spontaneous, go on overnight trips, go to movies, spend money on themselves, take dance lessons, go on dates, takes naps, buy Nerf guns to have battles in the living room, buy Legos just because they are cool, watch DVDs uninterrupted, and eat whatever they want.

It's Not You, It's Us

It's hard to believe, but we have been trying to have a baby since March 2009 -- which means we are fast approaching the 3 year mark. It started with a very quick pregnancy after going off the pill and that pregnancy ended in an early miscarriage.

Since then we've tried two different medical fertility treatments (clomid and IUI) and continue on our own. We have changed our diet, we've changed our sleep habits, and we're taking daily vitamins. Kelly is doing weekly acupuncture for stress relief and to improve fertility. Scott has cut back on coffee and long, hot baths. We have made these life changes to try to help our efforts in a more natural way. We are also pursuing adoption. We want to grow our family and we are not particular whether that is with a biological child or with an adopted child. This is not about a pregnancy; this is about growing our family. We have love to give and a yearning in our hearts to hold our little child.

The processes of infertility and adoption both bring with them a roller coaster of feelings that change on a weekly basis. We range from the despair of another menstrual cycle to the hope of an ovulation through the tedium of the two week wait and back again to the disappointment that is a new menstrual cycle. A month is a very long time when it is punctuated by a period.

On top of this, we are finding it emotionally overwhelming to be surrounded by our acquaintances, co-workers, and even our friends who are consumed with being new parents. We don't begrudge them, this is exactly where they (as new parents) should be -- but it's not where we are.

We are trying to not think about our empty arms. We are trying to focus on our work and artistic endeavors. We are trying, as so many people have recommended, to "stop thinking about it." We try to be the supportive and caring friends that we want to be. But it's hard. It's hard to ignore what we don't have and what, it seems, everyone else around us has. It's hard to hear the complaints of no sleep and crying babies, when we pray each and every day for the joy and trials that come with a baby. It's hard to not really have a part in the conversations around us because we just don't understand what these new parents are going through.

How can we? We are not where they are.

We don't want to burden anyone with our sadness. Because, ultimately, we are not sad until we think about it. We are very blessed and praise God for that. We try to focus on all the good in our lives. We don't want to make anyone censor themselves and we don't want people to walk on egg shells around us. We try to step outside our own vulnerability and acknowledge that maybe people don't know what to say. We try to forgive people for saying or doing things that we perceive as inconsiderate because we know they don't mean it that way. They don't understand.

How could they? They are not where we are.

So we find that are we are distancing ourselves from certain social situations. We've given ourselves permission to go on as many date nights as we want (and can afford). We've given ourselves permission to skip the baby showers of all but our closest friends. We've given ourselves permission to be lazy on Sabbath and just spend time together.

It's all we can do to stay sane in these trying times. We only have so much emotional fortitude. So if you're someone who's in our personal life, sorry if we seem distant. It's not you, it's us.

-S&K

Stuck - Making Babies Book Report

It seems we have been very busy since the IUI in June. I had some rather unexpected (by me at least) side-effects following the fertility medications, but I think I am now past those completely. I sure hope so. We’ve celebrated my 27^th birthday this month and we have been very busy seeing our friends and family. I also did a 5K mud-run to celebrate my birthday so there was time spent preparing for and recovering from that. This weekend we stayed with my extended family in a cabin in Georgia. This included a lot of laughter and good food. Sabbath morning I snuck out before anyone else was up and did a short run around the lake. I listened to hymns on my iPod and was really touched by the cool, quiet beauty. It ended up being one of the most refreshing times I have had in a while. I felt a certain peace as I climbed the hill back up to the cabin. Like I was given something of a promise from God that he is on this path with us and has a plan for us even if I feel like we are stuck waiting.

Stuck. The word keeps coming up. Stuck in the mud. Feeling a bit stuck and out of control in life. It came up again in a book recommended by a friend. This month I have read Making Babies: A Proven 3-Month Program for Maximum Fertility by Sami S. David, MD and Jill Blakeway, L.Ac. Turns out, according to this book, I am stuck. More on that in a bit.

Dr. David and Blakeway (in case you don’t know, “L.Ac” mean licensed acupuncturist), a fertility specialty team from New York, outline their method to “support a woman’s ability to bear a child with just enough helped to get nature to do its thing.” They argue that in many cases there is a better way to help couples conceive than the “aggressive surgical, pharmacological, and technological intervention[s]” being offered by many fertility specialists. David and Blakeway lay out a plan that helps couples optimize their fertility. They don’t take an adversarial position towards Assisted Reproductive Technology (ART), but they take the position that the cost and risk are, many times, not necessary. They argue that Western medicine and Chinese medicine working hand in hand can improve fertility without the expense or side effects (and risks) of ART. David and Blakeway critique western medicine for catering to a desire for instant gratification with a one-size-fits-all approach. They argue that the strength of Chinese medicine is its focus on considering the person as a whole.

The Making Babies program tells patients to eat well, de-stress, and take their vitamins. They go on to identify 5 fertility types and detail the steps for each type to maximize their fertility. The 5 types are Tired, Dry, Stuck, Pale, and Waterlogged. These types are inspired by the patterns used in traditional Chinese medicine. They then detail the steps each type should take to optimize their fertility. They suggest that a couple take a 3-month “Pre-mester” to prepare their bodies to conceive and support a pregnancy by implementing these steps.

As I said before, my type is Stuck. David and Blakeway outline foods to eat and foods to avoid; they talk about exercise, lifestyle choices and supplements that will help optimize fertility. I really appreciate the practical, specific advice and achievable steps they offer. I really appreciate that this offers solutions that are not expensive, invasive medical procedures or fertility drugs. Who can really argue with eating more vegetables, exercising more, taking vitamins, and reducing stress? We decided to give it a try. So, more vegetables and vitamins for the Foggs!

I would recommend this book for the reproductively challenged, those who are starting to try and want to be as healthy as possible to conceive, and especially physicians. This book gives you the tools, knowledge and vocabulary to improve your fertility and partner with your doctor to find the plan of action that works best for you. You can find out more about the Making Babies program here or order the book here.

--K

Reproductively Challenged

I want to first of all say that God sends blessings to us in ways we never think are possible. As a bit of background, I have been the Women’s Ministry director at our church for the past two years. I have struggled with finding something unique that I could add to the many things our church already does for the members and the community. There are many groups under the Women’s Ministry umbrella that were there before I started and function completely independent of me and my meager budget. Some groups even had their own budgets. I spent many hours trying to figure out what group or event I could plan that someone like me would attend. I’m busy with a husband, friends, family and full-time work. What kind of event would I be willing to drive the 20 minutes out to the church to attend?

It took me a good 18 months to admit that the word infertility applied to us. It took another 3 months of God’s nagging (there has to be a better word) to get me to start the support group that our community needs. I figured that Scott and I were not the only ones who are going through this, but Satan uses isolation, fear, and shame to beat us down and keep us from living the lives God has called us to lead. Our small group, called Third Thursdays, is now 4 months old. I am so blessed to have a group of women who know exactly how I feel. They know the answers to some of my questions. They feel the same longing that I feel and they can articulate it way better than I can. It is good to know that I am not alone. It is also very cool to think that God used me to help these other ladies, even if I add nothing to the mix and they help each other. God is so good.

I continue to be impressed with these women’s resiliency and hope. We share a lot of hard things, but we also share a lot of laughter. I want to share with you a list of things we, the reproductively challenged, want to ban from the general discussion all together. We compiled this list while laughing, but there are some things people say, with all good intentions, which are not helpful and can even be hurtful. Some of these have been said to me and some are things others have heard.

10 Things that the Adopting or Reproductively Challenged Couple Probably Doesn’t Want to Hear

1. “Just get drunk, you’ll get pregnant.”
2. “Try going on vacation.”
3. “You’re young, you have plenty of time.”
4. So many people are getting pregnant. “It must be in the water!”
5. “Just take my kids for the night, and then you’ll never want kids again.”
6. “Just relax, when you stop thinking about it, it will happen.” Fact: Stress is not a significant cause of infertility.
7. Any complaints about how miserable you are with your pregnancy. You may be uncomfortable, but please count those symptoms or annoyances as opportunities to be thankful for your pregnancy.
8. For those who are adopting – “Are you just giving up on having your own baby?” Or “Don’t you want your OWN baby?”
9. “As soon as you adopt you will have one of your own. Chuckle, chuckle.” We know that you may be uncomfortable and not know what to say. But, please don’t say this. The fact is the number of infertile people who get pregnant after pursuing adoption is the same number of infertile people who get pregnant after ending fertility treatments. 5-12% maybe, if the internet can be trusted. The factor of deciding to adopt or adopting a child is not relevant. And who knows, maybe those who conceived after adopting did not have fertility problems to begin with.
10. “Maybe God is punishing you for something. Have you confessed your sins?”

It was cathartic for us to make this list. I share this with you to help us all make the world a better, more sensitive place. This blog has had 2475 page views, 261 of those in June alone. Now, that may just be my mom and one of our good friends in Scotland, but I am guessing not. Our readers include someone (or people) in Canada, Russia, Ireland, Thailand, Taiwan, Germany, Malaysia, India and Iran. Scott and I hope that our openness can help someone else who may be experiencing something similar.

If you know someone who is reproductively challenged, the best thing to say may be, "I'm sorry you're going through this. I know it's difficult, and I hope things work out for you. Let me know if there's anything I can do." If you are reproductively challenged yourself, we offer that to you.

--K

Conversations

Last month’s 1-hour talk with the doctor has sparked hours of conversation, hours of thought and maybe a few tears. The doctor told us there was no reason we should not have already had a baby or at least a pregnancy. All the 2000 parts are in working order. Whew. Good news there. I guess. I had kind of hoped that there was some one small thing wrong that we could correct. Maybe hair color? The doc said redheads have a higher propensity of endometriosis. But I am not a natural redhead. If it helps through, I could be a blonde again. Or even a brunette (gasp). Nope. Nothing so simple, because there is nothing wrong.

He gave us two options. IVF and IUI. These options were no surprise. After all Scott used to work there. We know the services they sell. We’ve considered both. IVF is cost prohibitive for us. More importantly we feel called to spend that kind of money adopting a child who is already here. A child who needs our home. IVF may be for some people. Not us. Not right now.

IUI. That is a different story entirely. With insurance and our medical savings account the cost is not so intimidating. The treatment is not so invasive. We’ve decided to do it in the future. But we are not going to tell you when. We don’t want to get your hopes up; because the success rate is low. We don’t want to get our hopes up either. We don’t really want to be disappointed again.

More than 2 years ago we had a positive pregnancy test. We had an OB appointment. But we didn’t have the little flutter on the ultrasound that is a heartbeat. We had gotten excited and told our parents and friends too early. We learned that good news spreads fast, but the bad news does not disseminate so easily or quickly. It is no fun to meet acquaintances who expect you to be 6 months pregnant when you aren’t. The conversation is awkward.

We lay in bed and talked about sharing this with you, the entire world. Scott reminded me of our commitment to being honest about this journey. To crafting a blog that documents the real emotions, the good, the bad, and the vulnerable, of infertility, adoption and building a family. I reminded him about the raw hurt of having to answer follow-up questions from our well-meaning community of friends and family. So here I am writing it, because he is right. The Next Chapter is incomplete if we don’t put it all out there.

Please trust that we will let you know if it is successful. But it will be in our own time. If you don’t hear from us about it in 6 months, you can guess that it probably didn’t work. But maybe, for our sake, please don’t ask.

IUI doesn’t mean that we don’t want to adopt or that we are putting that process on hold. It just means that we are exploring our options for having a biological child. If it works, great. If it works AND we get the call for a baby to adopt, fantastic. Then there will be two (“If we have two, it will be fantastic,” Scott just said over my shoulder, “because then we’ll be four. The Fantastic Four.”).

So in conclusion, we believe in family, in community, in honesty. We believe that we can’t be the only ones going through this. So as hard as it is, as tough as it is to be vulnerable, we are committed to allowing you to be part of this journey. All we ask is that you give us your prayers and well-wishes rather than ask the follow-up question that we may not be ready to answer. Don’t worry we will let you know…

--K

The Weirdness

It was weird the first time we said it out loud. Before we said it out loud, it was just a nagging question in the back of our heads, "why aren't we getting pregnant?" We would talk about it, but in talking about it, we would never name it. We would talk about ovulation, we would discuss theories and what "some people say," but we never named it. When we finally did, it was supremely weird.

Infertility.

It belongs to those set of words that don't ever apply to you. They belong to someone else. Other people have their house broken into, not me. Other people get mugged, not me. Other people overdose, not me. Other people are molested, not me. Other people are raped, not me. Other people are diabetic, not me. Other people run into celebrities, not me. But . . . apparently . . . other people get pregnant, not us.

I must stop this blog right here and now to say we do not hold that against anybody. While every pregnancy announcement is tinged in just a bit of sadness and jealousy on our part, we have nothing but joy and excitement for you. Please do not feel bad for us. We can't do anything with your pity so please, don't waste yours on us. I actually had someone apologize to me recently because she was pregnant and we still weren't. Please, please, do not apologize. You have nothing to feel bad about. The point of this blog is not to throw a pity party for the Foggs. It is to chronicle our journey through particular point in our life, to let people know what's going on, and (hopefully) let others know that they're not alone.

Now where was I? Ah yes. The weirdness.

It was weird when we first said the "I" word. It was weird when we admitted it to our parents. It was weird the first time we told our friends. But the weirdness has abated. It's just life now. It's just a part of who we are. It's not something we think about on an hourly basis (I'd like to say it's not something we don't think about on a daily basis, but that's just not true). Every once in a while, though, the weirdness is brought back up and rubbed in our faces. Today was one of those days.

We went to The Fertility Center today. It wasn't weird that I used to work there. It wasn't weird that I still know people who work there. It was weird being somewhere where everyone knows what's wrong with you. If I'm at work, I'm just that friendly, bald, video game guy. If I'm with my friends, I'm the loud one in the corner who won't shut up about Doctor Who. But to the receptionist, the delivery man, and all the other patients in the waiting room, I'm something or someone just a little bit broken. I'm someone who desperately wants something he can't have. I'm someone who's most intimate, personal part of him isn't working. And while the doctors say there's nothing wrong with either of us, we're still in the waiting room, stuck in the dream where you walk into work naked.

I try to pretend it isn't weird, but it's weird. It's not as weird as these psychotic and sad people, but it's weird.

I'm looking forward to an unweird life. This experience has forever marked us, though. We'll always be that couple. But I'm okay with that. I'm okay with telling our story. I'm okay with answering questions. I'd like to hear other people's stories. But nothing will ever cure this weirdness -- nothing, I imagine, but the closing of this chapter and the start of the next one.

-=S