I know, I know, It’s not Monday.

It’s amazing where music can take you! No matter how you are feeling, the right song, lyrics, melody or even just the right beat can emotionally teleport you to paradise!

I woke this morning not feeling well at all. I am cramping like a calf muscle in a marathon, I was experiencing a hot flash upon waking, my head hurt, PMS is here to stay…etc. I plopped down on the living room couch and did my morning facebook check. No worries, my facebook is no longer a threat to my mental health since I performed some “deep cleaning” on it a while back. The first thing I noticed was a new video had been posted on you tube from some one I follow.

My mood changed IMMEDIATELY!

This man’s name is James Corden. I believe he is a late show host but I have never watched one of the shows. I found him on you tube. He does something called “Carpool Karaoke”. It is priceless!

Sooo…I’m just gonna leave this here…

Much Love To All!


Sarcasm, what is it good for?

Sarcasm…. Is it helpful or just hurtful?

If you have followed my blog you may already know I can be a tad sarcastic. Sarcasm and humor (even at inappropriate times) are a natural response for me. It runs through my veins. This post isn’t going to be a debate about whether or not sarcasm is helpful or hurtful. It is about why it is so helpful to me and always has been.

If I had to blame one of my parents for this sarcasm it would have to be my daddy. We do not always get along. When I was young we were mortal enemies. I was a very angry child most of the time (with very good reason and he knows it) and I relied on my “attitude” to get my point across. Sometimes it was the only time I was heard. I don’t think I need it for that anymore but the urge to make jokes or be sarcastic doesn’t just go away. The one thing my daddy and I always had in common was sarcasm. That’s how we communicate with each other, even to this day. I actually cherish those times, He is a different man today than he was when I was a child. We are closer today than we ever have been, especially since his stroke. For some reason, he is more concerned about my health and infertility now. I can’t explain why but I don’t mind. I don’t go into details with him of course but he wants to know about all of my appointments and he texts me randomly just to say “I love you”. We don’t exactly share feelings with each other. He hugs, kisses and says the words but anything more than that is too uncomfortable for him, for us. We just don’t share feelings…

My point is, I see my humor/sarcasm as a positive thing. It’s what I’m known for. Not juovaryactionsst with my daddy but with my other family members, friends and even my young students. My kids used to love cracking jokes and being silly. I think it played a huge role in my teaching style and success. Laughter/sarcasm is an outlet for me almost as much as music is. And it comes so naturally, like sneezing! It felt so good to know I could make people laugh. Especially during a difficult time. I could crack a smile on the saddest face in the room. But I lost that part of myself a few years ago. It happened just minutes after the doc told me I was infertile. Nothing funny or silly about that! I didn’t realize it was gone at first. Several months ago I did realize I was neglecting my love of music. I even started piano lessons that I eventually had to quit due to my health. But I remember feeling so grateful that I wanted to do it! That was the first step towards my old self and I was happy to see it.

Well…..My sarcasm came back today and it felt awesome! I was at the doctor’s office (ENT). The nurse that called me back looked as though she was having a bad day. Her hair kept falling out of her ponytail. I overheard her telling a co-worker earlier that she hadn’t had lunch yet and the look on her face was just miserable. She didn’t want to be there. So when she asked me “How are you doing today?” I replied with “Oh, better than some worse than others.”. The chuckle that came out of her mouth was hilarious! We chatted for a few minutes about my comment until the doctor came in.

I’m writing about this because I plan on posting more funny, silly or sarcastic things. If I can’t laugh about it what can I do….cry??? Yeah, been there done that and it hasn’t helped me heal. I think it is an important part of the healing process but it’s time for me to move to the next phase. To get back to the real me.

That being said, please let me know (kindly) if you ever feel like I have crossed a line at any time. I care for and respect all of my IF sisters (more than my real life ones) and no one ever taught or showed me how to be a good “sister”. Based on my crazy childhood, I wouldn’t recognize normal or appropriate if it jumped out and bit me. I am not here to offend anyone or minimize one single part of this journey, that is not my intent. This is just my next step in grief. My next step in getting my life back.

Much Love To All!

I am proud to say…I beat infertility!!

Okay, now be honest, what was your first thought after reading that title?

Seriously. What went through your mind?

Whether you were happy about it or not, did you wonder if this was a pregnancy announcement?

Let me clarify that right off the bat. I am not pregnant. This is not an announcement. Not that kind of announcement anyways. Maybe a PSA of sorts though. In honor of Infertility Awareness week, I thought I would bring attention to a part of Infertility that deserves more awareness in my opinion.

If you google “how to beat infertility” the results are depressing! Well at least for me they are. Go ahead try it. No? Alrighty then, Let tell you what you will see.

  • More than one full google page of websites describing “how to get pregnant”
  • a few sites about natural methods of conceiving
  • a couple of sites that look like blogs from families who finally conceived after _ years of ttc
  • there is even a youtube video titled “how get pregnant fast”. And no that is not a typo on my part, that is the actual title of the video!

What is the all-knowing inter-web forgetting here?

How about some info, just one result would do for now, about how to beat infertility child-free!!

I mean, obviously conceiving is a FANTABULOUS slap in infertility’s cowardly face (and sincere congrats to all who have done just that!) but is that the only way to beat this thing? I just don’t believe it is. This post is not aimed towards those women who have beat infertility by conceiving. It is an attempt to remind people there ARE others ways to beat this thing. I am in the middle of the same journey many women are in even though I have chosen not to continue TTC but no one will ever say that I beat infertility. Although I understand why people see it that way. I mean, the definition of infertility is “a disease of the reproductive system defined by the failure to achieve a clinical pregnancy after 12 months or more of regular unprotected sexual intercourse.” But most people just hear “can’t get pregnant”. So obviously if you are able to conceive, you won! Does that mean I will never win this battle? Once again, I am alone. I am part of a group of women that will never be recognized as strong or resilient for beating their disease. We will be known as the women who were lucky enough to survive ours. My choices may be different than most fighting IF but my feelings and emotions, and even some experiences, are still very similar. Whether I end up with a bundle of joy or not, I am heartbroken that my body is deceiving me and will likely continue to do so. My only chance of conception is a serious act of G*D or winning the lottery (aren’t those the same thing anyways?). And if that happens I will be ecstatic. But I must be prepared to live a life, a happy one, even if it doesn’t! For me, this is a must. I can’t put all my happiness on hold for a dream that may not come true. I prefer to see it differently. If that dream does come true, it will just be icing on the cake. The amazing cake that I was already enjoying even without that precious icing I longed for!

IF is the bad guy here. The monster that has invaded our bodies and changed our lives forever, in every possible way. It is not just about being unable to conceive. It’s about the sadness, the grief, anger, confusion, doctor’s appointments, blood tests, needles, lab work, anxiety, symptoms of whatever is causing your IF, announcements, questions, fertility advice and so on. Basically it is not just one monster, it is many. A large family of monsters who feed on our misery.

I could let IF bring me down. I could continue to allow my feelings to over take my every thought, like I did in the beginning. And as a HSP and an Empath, that would be so very easy for me to do! I could give in to the depression that seems to come and go as it pleases. I’m sure the monsters would just love that. I could also blame my husband. Why? Oh, nothing reasonable but isn’t the spouse the easiest person to take your anger out on? Not doing it. I could have lectured every young mom that so easily conceived and cluelessly announced it to me in front of everyone since my diagnosis. I could have flooded the walls of my facebook page with “whoa is me” posts like so many people do, even though their struggles are minor compared to what I’m feeling. The monsters would certainly jump up and down about that one. I could vow to never work with kids, and their parents, again. But I’m finishing the school I started years ago and I will go back to working in the field I belong in. Take that IF monsters!

I may not be successful at conceiving.

I may never adopt.

But I am beating infertility in my own way, the only way I know how!

So suggesting that the only way to beat infertility is to conceive….

It’s almost insulting.

Much Love To All!

Better late than never.

This time I will not quit before I accomplish my goal! No matter what!

I didn’t think I would be in the mood to write a post this evening since I spent most of the day piecing together an essay paper for school. Yeah, I said school. It’s a sore subject for me but I am writing about it so I will be forced to take responsibility for this goal. Writing it down for you all makes it real and I need this to be real.quitting

Stop me if you have heard this one. And by “heard this one” I mean, disregard this post if I already explained this stuff in a previous post.

Around November 2002, my bestie (I will call her Lizard) and I started online college courses. We decided to work on a degree in Early Childhood Education. Together. Our dream was to graduate with a degree and open a learning center together. Some time in the way, way future, but that was the plan.

There was one major problem with that plan.

Lizard only had 2 more months to live and we didn’t know it.

She was involved in a fatal car crash the following January. Her children were in the car but survived with minor injuries. She was killed instantly. I was shocked and devastated! College courses didn’t just go on the back burner at that time, they were thrown in the creek out back and forgotten about.

Fast forward to 2009. PC and I had reunited and even remarried. I was going through some things from the house I lived in while he and I were divorced. I came across some paperwork from the online school. I cried for hours. But I decided to give it a shot. I wanted to finally finish these courses. Then, my diagnosis came.

I was again, shocked and devastated. And again, these classes were forgotten. No longer important to me. Not because it was too hard to do without Lizard, like it was in the past. But because it was too hard to do much of anything for a while. I don’t think there is a time limit on processing a diagnosis like infertility but I figured one day I would be able to concentrate enough to get back into it.

In order for me to do that, I need a little motivation. I’m scared to get this degree because I know how sad I will be holding it in my hand knowing my Lizard isn’t here with hers. At the same time, she would be so proud of me! I just know it. She would’ve been the best support during this IF journey also. I think about her a lot. I often rely on what “Lizard would say” when I’m feeling down.

So here is my motivation. This post. I am making it real, writing it down, making a commitment, allowing myself to be held accountable. I am in my third semester of school with only one paper and one more course until I reach my fourth. I can do this and I will.

Have you started something in the past you never finished? Why did you stop?

You can finish!

Much Love To All!

Still the last one picked at dodge-ball!

I know that title is a cliche kind of comparison but that’s how I’m feeling. Except worse! I can’t even pay to get picked!change

Ugh, this house hunting is driving me crazy. I fell in love with another house. We put an offer in and they didn’t pick us. I was kind of surprised this time. We offered $8,000 more than they were asking. Trust me this house was so worth it! My agent even called the selling agent while we were touring the house to ask about the sellers. She found out they wanted to move closer to the city but hadn’t found a house yet. So we also gave the sellers the option of staying in the house as long as they needed to in order to find their new home. We were flexible everywhere in the damn contract and still we were not the strongest offer. How? I mean, obviously someone offered them more money but how are we supposed to know how much is enough, yet not too much?? My agent sounded genuinely surprised when she called me with the news. She is going to follow the sale of the house just in case something falls through but also to find out exactly what made their contract better than ours.

This house hunting process is ironic. I have been relying on this “project” to keep my mind off of the topic of IF and how I feel about the diagnosis still yet this process feels so similar! It is actually reminding me how I feel about my diagnosis. I want this so bad, just as I wanted a baby, and it turns out to be such a struggle. Unlike my diagnosis, this goal is possible but honestly at this point, that is hardly consolation. I wish it were. I mean, sure I can adopt. That’s not what I really want but we could. I could also settle and buy one of these houses that do not fit into any of our criteria. I don’t want to but we could. It’s like the universe says “Oh, I see you would really love ______. Well that’s not gonna happen hun but how about I give you _______ instead?”

We don’t deserve a baby of our own?

We don’t deserve a nice home of our own?

It’s becoming difficult to ignore these feelings.

There is another part of this process that is similar. Remember when you got your diagnosis? Do you remember suddenly noticing EVERY pregnant woman in the world? For me it wasn’t just on TV or at the grocery store. It was my family and friends. And I won’t even mention how many of my fb “friends” suddenly conceived. Pregnant, happy women everywhere yet none of them had even mentioned once that they were trying. Most of them explained how it wasn’t planned. And I was invited to all of the baby showers. And being the “baby person” in my circle, I’m the one that got all the calls of concerns, questions and so on.

The same thing is happening here. Suddenly everyone wants to buy a house. I know I mentioned my SIL in one of my previous posts. She admitted it was hearing PC and I talk about getting approved for a home that made her and her hubby want one! They closed on their new home only weeks after we started our journey. Mu cousin….UGH, my cousin has bought TWO houses in the time PC and I have started looking. Did you hear me? TWO! Her and her hubby and 2 perfect kids have purchased 2 homes in the amount of time PC and I have been turned down for 3!

Why is it so easy for others to accomplish the goals I want to accomplish? I know everyone has struggles but does everyone around me have to succeed at the exact thing I am currently struggling with? Makes me afraid of wanting for anything or working towards anything.

I know I am being tested here but for what? It can’t be patience. I’m a pre-school teacher for goodness sakes, I have more patience in my pinky than most have in their whole body! So then what?

I don’t know how much more rejection I can take.

I am that poverty ridden, young, short child with knots in her long un-groomed hair, holes in her pants being the last one chosen for dodge-ball. But this time I’m no longer poverty ridden, I’m well groomed, inexpensive clothes but no holes AND I’m bringing money to the game. More money than is being asked for.

Why must I still be the last one picked?

My current plan of action:

Re-read my Richard Wiseman books! Follow his instructions. Remember all of the things I have to be grateful for. And find a different perspective for this situation.

Oh and have a few drinks tonight! Just a few though as it will be the first drink I have had in months thanks to my gallbladder problems.

Much Love To All!

Jewish and Childless on Passover

The holidays are the worst for an infertile woman. Some holidays are harder to push through than others but they all kinda suck in some way or another. Although I do not practice the Jewish religion, it is my ancestry and my family was raised practicing. I passoveracknowledge all holidays and used to call my grandparents during each one but they are no longer alive. It’s my race not my religion. Today at sundown begins Passover.

This religion is practically based on traditions. And what are traditions for? Passing down. And who do you pass them down to? Children. So what does a Jewish girl do on this holiday if her Jewish family is no longer around to celebrate with and she has no children to pass these things on to?

Well, she cries a little. She cries because this is just another part of her dream that was crushed with the diagnosis of infertility. She had dreams of teaching her kids about the Jewish religion. Dreams of sharing her unique family structure and showing them the importance of tolerance, acceptance and love. She would have taken them to their grandparents’ house to hear Nana talk about what it was like to grow up in an orthodox household, to only speak Hebrew at home and how to make all the traditional foods.

Then she turns to the internet for comfort and finds this story…

Rabbi Berel Wein, noted scholar and Jewish historian, tells this story, which he heard from Rabbi Moshe Pardo himself. Pardo has since passed away.

Moshe Pardo was a wealthy Jew in Turkey, and he owned many businesses and properties. He also had a number of orchards in Israel near the town of Bnei Brak, before Bnei Brak became the city it is today.

He had just one daughter. A few weeks before his daughter’s wedding, she contracted meningitis and died. Moshe Pardo was heartbroken.

Seeking solace and advice, Pardo visited the Chazon Ish (Rabbi Abraham Yishayahu Karelitz), one of the leading rabbis and arbiters of the 20th century.

The Chazon Ish was himself childless his entire life. Pardo told the Chazon Ish the story of his daughter. He then said, “I want to die, too.”

The Chazon Ish told Pardo that it is forbidden for a believing Jew to think like that. Then, the Chazon Ish told him, “I’ll tell you what. You give up your business, Pardo. And you make a school for Sephardic girls, because you see what’s happening here, the Sephardim are being destroyed. You make a school for Sephardic girls here in Bnei Brak; take some of your orchards and start. And I promise you hundreds of children and thousands of grandchildren.”

Pardo took the Chazon Ish’s advice and founded Or Hachaim Seminary in Bnei Brak in 1952. For girls from kindergarten age up to high school, the school serves children from disadvantaged homes, girls who would find themselves on the street otherwise, and gives them a chance to have a livelihood. The school also helps make shiduchim, or matches, so they could marry.

Or Hachaim Seminary in Bnei Brak still exists today, serving 1,500 students.

On the day Moshe Pardo told this story to Rabbi Wein and his wife, Pardo pulled out a notebook. In this notebook, he had recorded the name of every girl who ever went to the school, what happened to her, and how many children she had.

On that day, he told Rabbi Wein, his 4,000th grandchild was born.

Not only did she find this story inspiring but she also recognized herself in every word. As a former teacher she could relate to the way the Rabbi seems to feel about his students. She treated them as if they were her own. She is reminded of the reason she loved teaching so much!

Maybe teaching again isn’t such a bad idea. She feels like it would be too difficult to be around that many kiddos all day. But…What if it turned out to be more rewarding than painful? She does miss helping children. I think she should reconsider her decision to never work with kids again.

Maybe she should reconsider.

Maybe I will…

Much Love To All!