Date Night

Note to all infertile couples - the importance of date night.

At the car show... as per wife duty to a husband who works in the automotive industry. It's going to be a long night :)

I guessed this car was 100K - nope it is 1M.


Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network

You're fired

Don't worry, I'm still employed....this (very long) post I drafted for the past couple weeks is an attempt to get the events I experienced in the past year fully off my chest. Gerry is going to put me on a word count limit soon....

A year ago today we were prepping for IVF. The process would have started in about 5 days and the injections were going to begin shortly. We were just waiting and hoping to see if our last IUI cycle would work before the more intensive treatment was needed with far higher financial risk. My work knew I needed two weeks off mid-April.

I went to work like every normal day. At 7:35am I was called into our boardroom upstairs which was so odd because I was generally the first one to arrive - I didn't even finish my breakfast. When I got upstairs, I saw the glass of water where I was to be seated....it was piecing together but I was in shock. I was quickly told by my latest CEO (5th in 10 years) that "we regret to inform you that your employment has been terminated". My world just flipped upside down. I sat there silently in rage but trying to stay somewhat calm because I was days away from finding out if I was pregnant.

The only thing I asked with clenched teeth was "why?". The answer was "without cause". I said forcefully "what's the reason?". "There is no reason,  Ritu, it is without cause". Like I'm an idiot who doesn't know what that term means, and after 10 years of outstanding service they couldn't even provide any sort of explanation.

She then left the room as a tear formed in her eye (really? I'm not crying, why the hell should you be?). The Director just sat there and could hardly look at me. He recommended I review the package with a lawyer (no shit). The psychologist came in to speak with me alone and to make sure I took a cab home. At this point I started screaming and crying. She said again that she would call a cab for me because they had taken my blackberry - the only phone I had with all my contact information. I told her I wanted fucking nothing from them. I knew better it was only about their liability if something happened to me and not my well being. I called Gerry with her phone - the only phone number I knew from memory aside from my mom's. He was on his way to meet me at home. They brought up my purse and coat as I was not allowed to retrieve any of my things.

I knew immediately listening to her HR 101 termination script the catalyst for this decision - my new CEO (who was a former Director with us for a year and who I had stupidly helped get her CEO job since I was on the selection panel) had fully known about my miscarriages and fertility treatments, and events that occurred over the past year was giving me very strong spidey senses that I should start looking through the employment ads - and Gerry was strongly encouraging me to do so. My colleague and I both had dreams we had been fired. Sometimes I would come home in tears from all the stress she was putting on me for no reason, but I had been there for 10 years, working in a very specialized position.  Just a week earlier, my ten year anniversary went completely unrecognized. My CEO hardly gave me eye contact. Then I would get mixed messages of how smart and wonderful I am and maybe I should consider applying to a Director position opening in government.

My former CEO/Director who I had worked with for 8.5 years always advised me that I cannot make a long-term career there since it was a small organization, and tried to reassure me that my skills were highly transferable to other careers in the industry. I was hesitant because I didn't want to take a lower level position but later resolved a lateral move to a non-management position at a lower but still decent salary could be my option. Higher level positions in government were a lateral pay move with a base in Victoria so I was not interested in commuting between Vancouver and Victoria. Sometimes I lacked the confidence to make that change. I liked the stability and I felt I helped build that organization and was so loyal. The timing was also horrible as I was finishing my Master's degree and we were trying to start a family. I needed the maternity leave top up pay, that was far above any other sector, and the stress of learning a new job was the last thing I needed at the time.

The day I lost my job, I didn't eat until later that night when Gerry had realized that and forced me to. I hardly slept for the next three days. I was constantly awake typing things in my new blackberry so I would not forget things that occurred and remarks made over the past year. My doctor prescribed meds to help me sleep. I would wake up in the morning crying that I couldn't believe this was real. Home again and nowhere to go. I was unemployed for the first time since I was 15 yrs old. I was laid off before from a contract job when I was young, but I lived at home at the time and had a part-time job on the side. This was so different. I didn't know how we could continue the fertility treatments, if I could get a job before I became visibly pregnant as generally employers are loathe to hire someone pregnant and close to going on leave, and if I could even help support our family whether or not we had a baby. It was also a difficult time as my friend's baby was stillborn just days earlier.

It took 2.5 hours to tell my lawyer what had happened. She took 42 pages of notes and was just appalled. I finally compiled my scribbles and notes into a 20 page account of the events, including quotes about the impact of my maternity leave, the cost of it, etc.  I had a binder full of supporting documentation and full copy of my employee file. I was told I had a very strong case for discrimination based on gender, age, family status, and disability, i.e. the infertility.

I still couldn't fully sleep. I had to listen to my MP3 player at night so I could distract myself somewhat and calm down. I still couldn't believe this was happening to us and as I wrote earlier in my blog, I was humiliated, fearful of our future, and lacked confidence in my abilities.

The following week, my lawyer was finally able arrange a time when I could collect my belongings - a ton of stuff from textbooks, briefcases, travel photography framed on my walls, and some personal files over the years.  They had first refused to provide my backup of my blackberry citing company property and reluctantly turned over the contact information; however all professional contacts from the sector were deleted including some people invited to my wedding. My personal calendar and outlook notes were finally turned over but in an untransferable format.

My first CEO allowed us $200 to spend on pictures to decorate our offices so I got frames for my personal photography. When we went back to my office to retrieve my belongings, I was so pissed at their "company property" statements, Gerry and I took out the photos and left an almost smashing mess of the frames on my desk since they were that cheap about everything.

We were otherwise silent the whole time we were there and didn't give eye contact, except when Gerry forcefully asked where my personal leather folder  was - a gift from my co-op employer when I graduated. When we were leaving,  the CEO asked Gerry if we needed a hand with the glass door. "NOPE."  I could see outside the glass door stood a security guard, so I broke my silence and said sarcastically, "oh there's the security guard! I was wondering where the security guard was!" When we exited I said to the guard, "nothing exciting, 5'1 petite woman, no bombs, no powder" (not that infesting termites didnt cross our minds...) . He just laughed. It is such HR 101 to do that step for no legitimate reason like there could be a physical altercation. Oh right, women on fertility treatments are hormonal. Watch out.

It was embarrassing to pack the car with a  close colleague from the organization next door walking by.

I felt so strongly principled that I should take this to the human rights tribunal, not for a higher settlement as that would be unlikely, but so the Board would be fully awaere of her actions. I was even ready to take this to the papers as government workforce bullying was a hot topic in the media and the anti-bullying legislation was in motion. We were very successful in getting media attention when Gerry's uncles from the Philippines were first denied visiting his father when terminally ill in 2008, so much so that the story was on the front page of the Vancouver Sun. I was ready to take this on as well.

However, tribunal rulings are released (let alone media attention) and I was strongly advised by my lawyer that I would unfortunately be seen as a troublemaker in the industry thus impacting my employability and long-term career.  Even though I have a strong case and yes, people should not be weary of their convictions, I was advised to settle. I also needed to focus on my new job and the upcoming IVF so we needed this whole ordeal over with - as much as it pained me that she suffered no consequence for her discrimination. Settling was an incredibly difficult decision to make.

My Master's degree had a final client project which was 30% done for them and I had to start over. The IVF was cancelled and we lost extra benefits plan that covered part of the fertility treatments. Our plans to start the adoption process was on hold as I was unemployed and the homestudy would likely not go well.

During this time, so many people said to me this happened so something better will come. Tough to believe at the time but I hoped it would be true. I needed the confidence. I still was though in some way, and this may not be the best term to use, mourning my past job, my past life.

I did manage to apply to a posting referred by my friend the same day I got fired. I got the job but it was four days a week and therefore a salary cut. The three day weekends were helpful, especially with finishing school and trying to de-stress as best as I could, so I took it as a short-term blessing. In regards to settlement, public sector legislation prevents employees from collecting severance and working elsewhere at the same time to prevent double-dipping; however this was not the practice of my sector where employers didn't go after severed employees to pay back a portion of the package. I had even spoken to a government lawyer about that as part of my former job and he stated the decision to recoup severance pay lies with the employer. However, my lovely CEO would fight me to the penny so I got screwed over twice and then some. So financially we got set back even with my new job. And then there was the longer term psychological effects I will describe later.

I also took as a blessing that I got a job at an organization I had wanted to work at for years. I even did a short client project there as a student about 15 years ago. The woman I was replacing retired after 25 years. At her retirement party, the former Director came. The same person I had interviewed for my project. When I introduced myself, he said he remembered me. I laughed and shook my head, and he said honestly he remembers.

It was hard returning back to healthcare, a huge learning curve as so many practices are unwritten, but my manager said I was like a sponge and couldn't believe I picked up on stuff so fast. But some of the work was overwhelming at times. So my confidence went up and down a little. Reflecting on this now, losing my job was the best thing for my mental health and my career. I now work in a collegial team with a Manager and Director who give me the autonomy to do my job and support me where needed. On top of that I really enjoy the work I do and find the impact of my work is far more meaningful; something I had been wanting for some time. I also just got offered full-time work, which I had wanted before but reluctantly agreed to now (not in effect til September so I have time to complete my Master's project).

I refrained from bringing anything personal to my new office for the longest time. Now I have a picture of Moshi and keep two separate blackberries so I don't make the same mistake twice. Six months after I started I told my Manager about what happened because it was difficult to continue to ask for days off for medical leave when you don't know which exact days the fertility treatment will occur.

What's weird though is when people say now, something to the effect of "look, you worried for no reason, it was meant to be!", I find those statements a bit dismissive of the emotions I had experienced, and sometimes continue to experience. That was especially the case when I went to a psychologist a couple times after I lost my job. She told me I should "smile" and "see, you got a job, you will be fine now". I gave her the look but didn't say it: "Really? I am mad as hell and I should just be fucking happy! Thanks for helping me work through my emotions!!!" I didn't seek help since. I must mention though that I wrote in November how I am very thankful for the support I received during that time, which I am still truly grateful for.

It took me a very long time to get over the anger. It would just resurface sometimes with or without reason. However, even though I don't feel that anger much now, I sometimes wake up from a bad dream about my former employer. It has lessened over the past few months but still there. I hate going to my fertility clinic as my former office is in the building next door (they just moved last month - phew!). Whenever my new Manager says she needs to speak with me, like when she offered me a full time position a couple weeks ago, I think the worst - I'm going to get laid off. I was telling a former close colleague that it is like a smaller form of post-traumatic stress disorder. It was the last straw in a series of horrible events.

I might see them all at a former colleague's wedding in May. I'm not sure who is invited yet but already my stomach is clenching. I had seen my former CEO and her devilish assistant one time on Mother's Day weekend of all days (a year after the first time I found out I was pregnant) at a garden store. They pretended not to see us - the settlement wasn't signed off then.... so with the exception of Gerry's loud response "are you fucking serious??!!" (love my husband) when I told him they were three behind us in the lineup, we said nothing. We were picking something up for Scarlett and for Gerry's dad as we were going to visit them at their cemeteries; so it was very hard to see them there but helpful to focus on what was more important.  If I don't see them at the wedding, the next time will be at a conference in June. I avoided it last year because I wasn't ready but I cant do that forever. So again, I need the confidence, and maybe some alcohol...

It sucks I won't look pregnant by then, but I now have bangs (December post), so they can focus on that :)

Hospital reply...

The following is the response from the hospital in regards to my letter last week (posted to my blog as "Why are you crying?"). A bit disappointing but not unexpected since the first event happened almost two years ago.

***
Patient Relations:  Thank you very much for this letter. I imagine it was a difficult one to write given the circumstances. It is apparent that you took the time to be reflective about your experience, which you described very well.

It appears that there were some good connections with some people at _____, although they were mired in a very sad outcome. But there was also that very scary experience, and then some times when our staff failed to understand your situation and your emotional state. I completely agree with you that no one should make an assumption about how people should manage or adjust to personal health matters, and I certainly agree that a miscarriage is a significant loss.

My plan is to forward your letter to colleagues in the Emergency department, the Maternity program, and the unit you were hospitalized on, as it will help us understand from a patient’s perspective, the importance for all health care professionals to recognize the intricacies of delivering good and careful caring assistance to our patients. I read a quote once that had resonance for me, and perhaps is applicable here - “The care of a patient is in the caring for the patient”.

As well, I am going to ask the operations leader for the medical unit to remind her staff that call buttons must be easily accessible to be useful. Even though this happened some time ago, I think it’s good for them to be mindful that they should check the placement, and ensure that they can be easily used if the need arises.

If there are any other issues you would like me to forward or pursue, please be in touch with me again.

I wish you the very best. Take care.

Me:   Thank you for your reply. I would like to reiterate I kept using the call button, but no one came. So it is not an issue of accessibility, it is one of responsiveness.

Patient Relations:  Hi again…thanks for the clarification…that is even more important for me to know and pass along.

Explaining the Unexplained

So we have been diagnosed with "unexplained infertility" which effects 2% of all couples. The last time we went to the clinic we were told that we were on "the wrong side of the stats" and they would test some more to see if anything was missed.

Part of our initial testing over 2 years ago was a hysteroscopy that showed through a camera (very uncomfortable and crampy) that there was nothing wrong with my uterus such as fibroids or scar tissue. My first two pregnancies from IUI, which is far less intrusive than IVF, lasted the longest at 11 and 8 weeks. We elected to do a D&C surgery both times so we can test to see if abnormal chromosomes were the reason for our losses - a common reason for miscarriage when usually the egg does not divide properly. D&C's could cause scarring but we were told the chances were low. Abnormal chromosomes were determined for our first pregnancy and the test for the second pregnancy was inconclusive.

After the third pregnancy from the IVF resulted in an early miscarriage, we did another hysteroscopy that showed a small scar in the corner of my uterus. My doctor suggested I get minor surgery which occurred last October with my ob/gyn before we tried the two rounds of frozen embryo transfers (FETs). Emotionally I didn't handle the surgery too well but got through it. But then the frozen cycles resulted in a chemical pregnancy and early miscarriage at 6 weeks as well. We were so frustrated that the IUIs gave us "better" results when statistically the IVF/FETs have a much higher success rate.

Today I went for another hysteroscopy. This time more scarring was found in an upper area so we were quite confused. Doc said when they remove some scarring it can reveal more later. She said (something to the effect of) what could be happening is the lack of blood flow to the lining is not allowing the pregnancy to sustain too long after the implantation so the latest pregnancies are ending quite early.

I was so dismayed to find out I need to go in for a fourth surgery. It may not be until at least July/August unless I can get triaged earlier. Then there is recovery time before the next IVF. This delays everything once again, including adoption. I was also pissed we didn't do another hysteroscopy or other test after the surgery to make sure it was all okay.

On the other hand, we are so resolved to try anything for what may be the last round of fertility treatments. If this explains part of the unexplained, then back to the hospital I go.....

***

More info here, but need to connect with my physician peeps:
http://laparoscopy.blogs.com/prevention_management_3/2010/11/intrauterine-adhesions-hysteroscopic-evaluation-and-treatment.html

Happy Birthday Scarlett

Dear Scarlett,

I remember when your mom and I, in our single days and usually over a meal or a glass of wine, used to talk about the qualities in men we were looking for - good husband, good father, high morals, integrity, charitable, world vision, world traveler, preferably fishes or is willing to learn, and would not rent a hotel room in lieu of camping - to name a few.

I remember when your mom met your dad and I knew right away she found all that and much more.

I remember when your mom and dad got married, and no one else I have ever known had such a beautiful ceremony with the most amazing sunset to follow. Trust me it was amazing - one of those rare weather events only your Tito Gerry can explain because I'm not much of a science person. I'm happy the picture of the "dip" rests with you.

I remember when your mom announced she was pregnant with you. I cried so many happy tears to her over a long voicemail I had left because it was such long waited, wonderful news that was finally happening. You gave me hope.

I remember rolling my eyes laughing when your mom told me you were a girl - no surprise with those genetics.

I remember your baby shower.  Your mom just glowing, and wearing a hat that she didn't take off for months. How overjoyed your whole family and all of us aunties were. We were all so excited to meet you, Snowdrop.

I remember in March I would look at the calendar and see how many days were left, wondering how your mom was hanging in there.

And then I remember the day you were born, and everything came crashing down. It was a year ago today. The first time I was able to hug and cry with your mom, the first thing she told me was how beautiful you are. The moment when we released the balloons you brought us some sunshine on a dark, rainy day.

So I remember you today with so much mixed emotion, and as painful as it is to say, I wish you a happy birthday dear Scarlett Amelia. A beautiful baby girl we love so much and remember always. As your cousin says, "how could I miss someone so much who I had never even met?"

Love, Tita

SLC

So proud of my friends today - three bereaved families who have founded Still Life Canada:

http://still-lifecanada.ca/01/

Love to Scarlett, Toren, and Amelia

break the silence

"Why are you crying?"

The following is a letter to the hospital where I was treated for my first two miscarriages. I felt compelled to write this to them for some time now:


Dear ___

I am writing this letter to advise you of my experience after recent treatments at this hospital. In June of 2011, I went to the emergency room early in the morning with the uncertainty that I was miscarrying at 11 weeks pregnant. Dr. K provided exceptional care, and the same when Dr. A arrived to discuss my options. It was surprising that both physicians were incredibly compassionate. One usually thinks it is the nurses who are the kind ones whereas the doctors are more clinical and time pressed. Upon the advice of our fertility clinic, we decided to have a D&C so they could later perform a cytogenetics pathology test. It was difficult to grieve in a public area after a number of ultrasounds confirmed our baby's heartbeat was gone. Finally, I was admitted and brought upstairs. When I broke down crying in my bed, my nurse (female) simply asked "why are you crying, are you in pain?" My husband reminded her I had a miscarriage as per my chart so I was emotional right now. She said "oh, is this your first? that's why". I felt completely dismissed with no level of compassion for what we were going through regardless of the number of women the hospital treats daily for miscarriages. There was also no thought of what my individual circumstances could possibly be, as we had been trying to conceive for a long time before this first pregnancy.

In the middle of the night I finally had the D&C. Dr. A told me he would hold my hand in the OR because my husband was not allowed there, and he did. I was slow to wake up so it was decided that I should stay overnight. Shortly after my husband left, I felt increasingly unwell. I was in a cold sweat and ready to pass out, however not in a nauseated way but I knew something drastic was happening to me. I kept pressing the nurse button and no one came, just hearing them outside chatting. I could hardly whisper to alert the other patients in the room to get help. Further, I could not even cognitively remember how to function my blackberry so I managed to dial my husband's phone number by heart. He was outside now and all I could whisper was "come back now". By the time he got up to the 10th floor using the really slow elevators, still no one had come. He took one look at my pale face and got help. Then a code was called and suddenly many people came. After a ECG, portable x-ray, and bloodwork, it was determined that I got aspiration pneumonia from the D&C which is incredibly rare and my blood pressure suddenly dropped from 110/70 to 60/40. I was told I was lucky I did not have a stroke. Yes, but actually I was lucky I was able to call my husband. When Dr. A left, I was scolded by the night nurse (male) that he asked me after the surgery if I was in pain, and I had said no (I had surgery before and the intubation had bothered my lower throat then too). It seemed he was embarrassed for not watching me closer.

I was in the hospital for three days. It seemed this nurse (male) did not remember why I was there in the first place. In private moments, I would sometimes break down as I couldn't fully deal with my grief in a shared room with others. The nurse would just ask my husband "why is she crying?" and again he would need to provide the reminder after being in his care. There was no awareness of the grief that couples go through.

On top of this, one particular younger patient in the bed next to me had an army of visitors who played music and boardgames. My husband had to repeatedly ask them to keep it down so I could sleep. The nurse only advised them once and we had to resort to carting my IV to the lounge so I could sleep on the couch there. In the middle of the night, I would just hear the nurses keep chatting some more.

I miscarried again in December of 2011, three days before Christmas. This time I was braced for what could arise but the D&C went well. When I woke up in the recovery room, the nurse (male) said to me that his sister had a couple miscarriages and they have a beautiful daughter now. He said "the next time I see you it'll be for your c-section". That is the type of compassion by a caregiver that means so much to a patient and something I remember to this day.

I have since had a total of four miscarriages and it is becoming increasingly apparent how there is a lack of  pregnancy and infant loss awareness in society as the grief we endure is hardly spoken of. That awareness though is incredibly important for all caregivers to understand - that a loss of a baby though miscarriage should be treated as a loss, and not an outcome that is shrugged off due to statistics and a perception that it will be okay after a little while. Each patient's story is different and caregivers need to be mindful of that.

I write this now as I have realized that patient advocacy is fundamental to ensuring that hospitals are aware of the quality of care it provides and how specifically that care impacts patients in the long term. My hope is that some training and education can be done on this important topic.


Sincerely,
R.

Cha-Ching!

Today the Ministry social worker called me unexpectedly. As much as she disagrees with the infertility policy, the Director, who oversees the Ministry program as well as the four other BC adoption agencies, is adamant that we cannot qualify to adopt until we are finished with all fertility treatments. Infuriating once again that couples who do not need treatments can keep on trying but here we are blacklisted. So that means we could miss the Fall education sessions and because of the bottleneck wait for couples in line for a homestudy, we would not be approved to be on the wait list  until closer to 2015.

For those not aware of how the adoption process works, children who are abandoned and apprehended go through the Ministry. All other adoptions including relative, domestic, and international must be through four licensed agencies in BC. She told me one agency folded about a year ago because the programs (specific countries that have intra-country adoption agreements through the Hague treaty) were not getting good placement rates.

When looking at international adoption, you need to find a program that has a good placement rate with an agency in BC. So more important is the program you choose than the local agency, which gets incredibly complex when trying to research these programs, especially in the U.S. as only a few agencies are Hague accredited.

The social worker told me the other agencies have been steadily increasing their prices to keep afloat. She was shocked a dual agency/Ministry homestudy is now $7000. Well, my economics background tells me this is a demand and supply issue that has ethically gone wack. The demand is there, the supply is low, so they increase the prices to stay afloat. However, this precludes more demand as there are alternative choices to adoption (without guarantees) such as the use of sperm/egg donors. Couples may go that route but then they are so financially tapped out to then proceed with international adoption.

Here's the general price list/availability for ONE adoption, a note to those who said we could "afford it" even AFTER I explained this. It was news to the social worker today who was just floored.

• Canada - $15-20K but total lottery jackpot if you get a placement as not a lot of infants available.
• US - $40-70K (depending on how much the birthmother wants in expenses if the deal is made while she is pregnant). Here too is like a lottery win as the birthmother chooses the couple.
• Japan - $60K including living expenses for 2 months there but not the cost of the hospital stay for every day it takes you to get to Tokyo.
• India - $40-50K but getting my lost luggage from the airport took over 2 hours and that was painful enough
• China, Vietnam, Mexico, Guatemala - closed
• Vietnam special needs program - approx $25K plus health expenses not covered when back to Canada; now a lengthy wait
• Peru - older children only
• Philippines - special needs sibling older age groups or relative adoptions only
• Russia - price didn't matter after seeing you need to travel there three times
• Africa - incredibly slow; low certainty
• Other countries now open - success rate unknown so it is a gamble to put down $5K-10K just to get on the list (full fee when placement made)

Some couples easily spend over $100K to have a child through infertility treatments and/or adoption. Again, that's one child (unless you have twins through infertility treatments which can increase the risks of stillbirth and long-term complications).

Our BC government's "Families First" policy sure hasn't been implemented in this instance of creating families for those who cannot do so naturally, and further, infertile couples are not eligible for government funded medical treatments such as IUI, IVF, or  super-ovulation. Other provinces such as Quebec have criteria for funding these treatments (I believe it is one IVF for women under age 40) and we have been told by our doctor that BC is slowly getting there. Good news for younger couples if that holds true, but may not come to passage for us. Maybe time to write to our MLA...

Denied, again.

This is our adoption application experience, part two. Part one is in my earlier post, "I know this must be disappointing".

We decided this time to apply to the Ministry directly. The last time we tried applying for a dual agency/Ministry application so we go through the process once. We were told at the Ministry info session that they are no longer taking any more applications for infants to two year olds (0-2) but if you are more open to an older range such as up to age 4-5 then you have a better chance. We originally were okay to age 3 and then stated 0-4 on the form. We also ticked no to children with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome due to my experience with a foster child.

We submitted our forms today by email and were told within an hour that we do not qualify. 

First, they need couples who are accepting of FAS because the majority of kids may be diagnosed with that in school age because often the symptoms such as learning disabilities do not occur until later. Most birthmothers will not admit to the level of alcohol they consumed so you never know until later on. We discussed in length about FAS and I said we would do more research as possibly the case we had when I was younger was more the extreme.

Second, the social worker stated the Ministry is a school age program and need applicants who are willing to take kids up to age 6-8.  It was already some movement for us to go from newborn to infant, infant to toddler, then toddler to pre-school, and now full on school age is another discussion we need to have. Not saying we aren't open and our feelings could change over time, but this rule was news to us. I was so frustrated as that was not conveyed to us by the other social worker at the session. She was adamant that her colleague states the same thing she does. I confirmed my understanding with Gerry and another couple who also attended.

She told me the other agencies seems to be a better fit for us. I cringed and told her what happened. The infertility policy also applies at the Ministry, however the social worker thought the policy was wrong and said she will advocate for us. However, couples cannot try to get pregnant (!?? - ooops!). Plus the way the Ministry works is different than agencies. After the forms are reviewed, the social worker will then set up a meeting. If accepted, on to education sessions and the next one is in the Fall. Then the homestudy finally starts so the possibility of placement would not be until at least Spring of 2014. A year from now. 

I gave Gerry the update in the 15 minute car ride home. I know this sounds horrible but we looked at Moshi and compared it to getting a puppy versus an older dog since that is the only thing we can relate to being childless. Older dogs really need love and a good home, and often you will know their full personality and medical conditions at an older age. We decided to be more flexible and see what happens. Who knows where we will be at a year from now....

Scatterplots

Okay, not to boast but I reflect back on my happy news of  my "25!" antral follicle count last weekend because I had a tough week at work.

Here's a graph that illustrates antral follicle count to age. The next one is the antral follicle count in relation to number of eggs retrieved in an IVF cycle (not all follicles have eggs). Our first round of IVF we got 19 eggs. Yes, I can be a stat nerd....

A count of 25 is not bad for someone turning 38 (yikes) later this year. Hoping these eggs are healthy....We've been warned that one cycle can result in a drastically different number of eggs than another. Something I've seen with other friends who have gone through these treatments.

FIGURE 9: Decline of antral follicle count with increasing age of a woman.

`

FIGURE 8: Number of eggs retrieved in IVF cycle in relation to antral follicle count.

http://www.infertile.com/brochures/biological_clock05.htm

Desiree, Marie, and Nicky

When I was 18 years old, my mom who was a former nurse started doing special needs foster care. We primarily had infants straight from the hospital who were deemed as having some drug exposure. Other kids had downs syndrome, fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), or kids who had complex multiple surgeries with neurological and mental development problems as well.

Our first foster child was Desiree. She came to our home from the hospital at 6 weeks old. They said she had some prenatal drug exposure but nothing was apparent to us when she was in our care so thankfully it seemed minor. We absolutely fell in love with her and I knew right then if I ever had to adopt a child I would not have any less love or difficulty bonding with him or her than having my own biological child. In fact, our family wanted to adopt Desiree, but because she was half Chinese and half Aboriginal all non-Aboriginal families were prevented from adopting those kids because of a government imposed moratorium. At that time, the government thought it best they remain in homes of their own heritage, but the majority of kids in foster care are Aboriginal and finding suitable placements was difficult (since then the moratorium has been lifted but an exemption must be requested by the Ministry and a cultural plan must be made - a plan I think is needed for any cross-cultural/ethnicity adoption).

I took over 1000 pictures of her (remember this was film days) and one of those pictures was posted on the adoption list. Our hearts sank but the reality of finding a match didn't hit home until they found a placement. A couple with four other adopted kids applied to adopt Desiree, and even though the adopted mother's psychiatrist wrote more kids would be harmful to the mother's well being, she was placed there anyway (since then they adopted more kids). She left shortly before her second birthday. We were absolutely devastated. We visited her once, noticing how much weight she lost, but it was too hard on us emotionally to keep contact.

So I was 20 years old when my mom recognized that my brother and I had not dealt with loss before. When I was a teenager I had an aunt who died from a rare form of cancer in her forties.  She lived in India and I adored her at each of our visits, but the physical distance meant we were not as close as we could have been.

We later had other babies and children come and go through our home but we were more guarded and slightly more mentally prepared. But then came Marie. Marie was an infant when she came to us as well, had downs syndrome, and was Aboriginal. The Ministry finally deemed her a ward of the state as her biological parents still made some limited connections. So that meant she would stay in our care and not be adopted. I then brought down that guard and started to bond with her. At the age of two and a half, she had a stroke and was brought to Children's Hospital. A neurological disease like a spider web was going through her brain. We would take turns sleeping next to her at the hospital and going to work in the morning. My brother called one night and told me she was being transferred to the ICU. It wasn't looking good. I told my mom we had to go to the hospital. I said nothing else as I didn't need to. She just knew. It was decided to end her life support. I remember singing to her before she passed away.

I now cry as I write this.

Nicky was the complex kid - we had her for about 3-4 years and she suffered from a host of issues such as FAS, developmental delays, multiple cardiac thoracic surgeries, and tracheal rebuilding (something like that). Because of the FAS it was very difficult for my brother and I to bond with her but nonetheless she was part of lives for a long time. My mom was more bonded with her as all mother's have this unconditional love for their kids and Nicky was not an exception. My mom first had to grind her food because before she was placed with us she choked on a french fry and landed back in the hospital. Years later she progressed so much she could eat solids. Then two weeks after Marie died, my mom found her in the living room turning blue. She was choking on a french fry. Nicky later died in hospital shortly after. My brother called me at work and I could hardly speak. This all took place six months after my cousin Deepuk died. He was killed by a hit and run driver and I wrote about him a bit in December. I could hardly explain to my manager what was going on in my household that I needed to leave again. On an aside, my mom (in moments between pure grief) thought she was going to lose her job, however the Minister sent her a letter of appreciation for the care she provided to these children.

Years later, I now work at Children's & Women's Hospital (I tried to keep that point vague earlier in my postings but it is easy to figure out). I had wanted to work there since Marie was admitted in 2001. At times I am in the ICU and I find myself trying to remember which small room Marie was in. I look at some of the nurses and try to remember if that was the one who was counselling us in the family room before we had to say good bye. Blonde pony tail and very pretty..... sometimes I think it could have been the former ICU nurse who is now a close colleague of mine in the office next to me.

Nicky's mother, who also has FAS and developmental delays, was very much in contact while Nicky was placed with us and to this day. She lives in Whitehorse. Although the communications have lessened over time, she will still visit my mom for a few days every other summer or so. One time I remember she visited me downtown and took pictures of me in my sari as I was getting ready for a wedding. The moms talk about Nicky and find comfort with one another.

I had thought I would try contacting Desiree through the Ministry when she was of age....16 years was a long time to wait but it was always in the back of my mind. She is now in her late teens and a few years ago she sent messages to my brother and I on Facebook asking if we were her foster siblings. We cried happy tears and keep a bit of contact going through that forum. I can't hate Facebook all the time.

I guess there are two points from this post:

Losing Desiree, Marie, and Nicky have taught me so much earlier in my life that seems to have coincided with meeting the many bereaved parents in my support group. The trauma, grief, anger, fear that "these things will happen twice", and "unresolved resolution". Not many people have experienced the death of a child, and in Desiree's case having a child be "taken away".

All the children we had placed with us reminds me to have faith in adoption (the act, not the process) and to not be too anxious about what we can handle; we just need to be upfront about our limits. These children need the opportunity to be placed in a loving home. We need the opportunity to provide it.

***
p.s. I wanted to post pics of these girls but they are not scanned...will do so later.

1 in 4 - Break the silence

"They say a picture is worth a thousand words. In this case, it's also worth a thousand emotions. This image is part of a new ad campaign being released by Little Spirits Garden - A Community Remembers to raise awareness in B.C. about pregnancy and infant loss."

These emotions are so true when I 
pass by a playground...
go to a baby shower, child's birthday party, or holiday gathering...
read a pregnancy announcement...
look at items in a store...
see the 1000+ baby pics pinned to the walls of my ob/gyn's exam room...
watch the news of the latest celebrities getting pregnant....
read the news of celebrities with their babies...
walk through the hospital at work...
walk on the seawall with strollers everywhere...
pass by the mommy bootcamp classes on the seawall...
only see kid activities advertised for BC's new "Family Day" holiday...
read facebook status updates...
get a smile from a baby or toddler....
and on and on...

It's everywhere. 

The emotions can range, but are always there in some form. Break the silence about pregnancy loss. The "unspoken grief". I wrote at the beginning of my blog how I tried but failed to do that on Facebook. Today I "liked" a community page I discovered on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness. When you "like" something on FB, everybody can see it. 

Step one of dropping the hint of my own unspoken grief.

25!

Today was a good news day. We saw our doc for a follow up to help determine next steps. We did an antral follicle count to give us an indication of my egg reserve. It is a transvaginal ultrasound that looks at how many eggs are developing in each ovary. The last time we did it was over 2 years ago where my count was really good at 17 for my age. This time she said 12. I was like "okay", knowing it would of course lower as I get older but still disappointed. Then she said, "that's just one ovary, you got 25 in total!"

Pure relief.

The Rock

Gerry and I sometimes discuss how we deal with grief and loss differently and that I don't always need him to be positive and comforting, just real. Let me grieve, let me get through the week, and I will start to resurface. Get angry with me and tell me how unfair this is. Our doctor recently gave him a lecture too about suppressing feelings. He says he needs to be my rock and doesn't want to spiral downward, especially as I go through both the physical and emotional pain (and unfortunately at times with high hormone levels). But I need to be that rock for him as well. I can see how it effects Gerry, but it is different than how it impacts me and the way I deal with it. How we can balance that has yet to be resolved.

Timely, is a blog posting from a grieving father which helps make sense of this difference:

Of beasts and bad guys

It is becoming very apparent to me that men grieve differently than women. This might not be such a groundbreaking discovery given that men are different from women in so many ways, but how we deal with pain and grief is sometimes more different than I would have expected. Some women express concern for their husbands in their blogs. Are men not expressing their feelings enough? Is this just stereotyping that women might be more openly showing their feelings and emotions or is there some truth in it? Are men pushing the pain away?

I think the truth might be that husbands sometimes feel they have to be strong for their wives. Actually, I don’t know if that is the case for all men, I should rather say that it might be the case for me. I don’t think it is something that I do conciously, but there is this primal instinct to protect one’s family. I wanted to protect my kids which turned out to be impossible and I want to protect my wife. However, there is no bad guy who wants to do something terrible to her who I could chase away. If it were just that easy, something physical to tackle and fight. Of course mothers have the same instinct to protect their children, husband and family. Why should this be different? I don’t really know, maybe I am stuck in a traditional stereotypical world view. But she does tell me that she feels safer when I sleep next to her for example. I always understood my role as being responsible for making her feel safe and secure.

In any case, the sad reality is that there is absolutely nothing I can do to protect her from harm. The harm has already been done and I cannot undo it. I sometimes even wonder what is harder: my own pain having lost our kids or seeing her being in so much pain and being helpless to make it go away. This utter inability to make it right, the finality of death. When your house burns down, it is certainly a difficult experience, but you can get back up and rebuild. When you have a setback, you can overcome it. When death claims a loved one, you are helpless. He is the ultimate unbeatable challenger.

But then I have to remind myself that the idea of taking the pain away is wrong in itself. Pain is a big part of what is left to us. There is pain because of so much love. Taking pain away would mean to take the love away. My role might be different than expected, maybe it has evolved from a simplistic teenager view of protection to a much more complex understanding of supporting each other. In our previous life we had fixes for bad days or what we might have considered bad days. If something did not work the way we wanted or someone really pissed us off, we might have been mad or upset, but it could be easily fixed. Often it would go away by itself because it wasn’t really something to be mad about in the first place. For “really bad” days, ice cream, jokes, flowers, cinema or eating out might have done the trick to cheer her up [when my wife read this she started laughing and said "really, was it that easy". What shall I think about that?]. Well, loss and grief are entirely different beasts. A real problem and quite a big one at that. How could we have ever wasted thoughts on mundane nuisances?

The plain and simple reality is: there is no fix. And maybe that is the hardest thing to accept. Our grief will stay with us for the rest of our lives. It will never go away and we cannot win a fight against grief. One cannot rebuild or maybe build an even bigger house to show resilience. We carry the ruins around with us, death has no match. And there is no getting over it, just learning to live with it. So what is grief? Is it an enemy, is it a companion, is it a reminder, is it the partner of love? Whatever it is, it has taught me a lesson. And maybe I have a better understanding now about what I can do and cannot do. I can be there for my wife when she hurts and is in pain, I can hold her and let her cry as long as she needs to and I can cry with her. I don’t have to feel this need to comfort her to make her feel better.

I sometimes still fall back into old habits when I ask her if I can do something for her when she is sad. I should know better by now, but these old habits are difficult to get rid off. I am trying and still learning… At the end some things might be more difficult for me, some things might be more painful for her, but after all we are going through this together and it is our grief. We might just not be showing it the same way, but we are wrestling with the same beast. And the beast is like a mystical shapeshifter, hard to pinpoint or to understand, always in for a surprise…

Help break the silence!

http://www.marlon-and-tobias.com/blog/of-beasts-and-bad-guys/

Babysitting Beans

Sunday morning I babysat my friend's daughter "Beans" (or Bean or Beanie as how she is nicknamed). She was born about 6 weeks before my first baby was due. She fell asleep on me right when we got to the playground. When I was watching her sleep, you might think I was saddened at not being a mom yet, but I was actually thinking of Scarlett. My other friend's daughter who was stillborn at full term almost a year ago last March. They would have been 4 months apart.

I wondered what Scarlett would have looked like at a year old, what cute outfit she would be wearing from the garage full of clothes her parents had collected from friends, and how I wish I had the chance to babysit her as well.

Everything happens for a reason

Broken but strong

I saw this today and thought of all my babyloss friends who have been sending me such kind messages of empathy this month.