Even with the remarkable progress my mother has made in accepting my choice and trying to be supportive, we clearly have a ways to go.
Two weeks ago, when I told her about a man who had been verbally abusive to me in front of others, a man with whom she had tried to set up a date for me, her response was, "Do you think he likes you?" As if this 43 year old man child had regressed to some version of pulling my pigtails and dipping them in ink. Moments earlier, she had reiterated that I should not compromise in my choice of husband and soul-mate.
Last week, she suggested a blind date set-up with a man who I had not only previously dated while in graduate school, but who had recently (after years of trying to have successful relationships with women) come out of the closet. Mom's query to this revelation, "Do you think he knows you?" As if we might date again, and he just may decide that his homosexuality was a brief experiment.
Then Mom came out with the question that I can imagine has been sitting and stewing in her mind for years now; she asked me if I was even interested in dating men anymore. I asked her if she would feel better telling her friends that her 40 year old daughter was not married because she was a lesbian, rather than because she had simply not found the right one. She stammered and tried to recover by clarifying her question, wondering if my fertility attempts were mutually exclusive of my trying to find a husband and a natural sperm donor as the father of my children. (Sex: the Fun Conception Method)
I pointed out that it was most unlikely that even today, sitting across the table from a man on a date, that I would share the details of my treatments. It would be inappropriate and frankly, none of his business. In fact, it is also unlikely that I would announce my pregnancy until three months had passed, and I had the assurances of my doctors that both I and the fetus were safe and developing nicely.
In truth, I have often thought that if I were a lesbian, I would be in a fantastic relationship right now, as there are many more quality women, looking for stable and fulfilling long-term connections, than there are men in the Jewish traditional world.
But I like men, specifically those with hug-able chests, a good sense of humor and intelligence, and some ambition. Know anyone?
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Me, Revolutionary Role Model?
Now that I have decided to wait until December, and give my body a solid few weeks to rest, I have been immensely enjoying going back to the gym, sitting in the sauna and drinking wine at festive occasions. I have lost several kilo already, and figure it is healthy to start a pregnancy with less weight rather than more, though I am not overweight to begin with.
What is more odd, in the last two weeks, I have been approached by several acquaintances (single, observant women) who know about the Great Pregnancy Plan. They want to sit with me and hear about my experience, because somehow my example of courage and/or insanity has inspired the idea that they might enter into this as well.
My cousin (KB) last week accused me of being too open and up front (I believe he used the phrase "in your face") about my trying to get pregnant, as a currently single woman. He believes that this is a wonderful process, and while he is glad I am so comfortable with the idea, he feels it should be kept quiet. Until I am showing.
I have never been accused of not expressing my opinion, and have no shame in feeling confident and secure in my decision. If people are talking about me, so be it, if it allows women in my situation and in our closed Orthodox singles community to dare to think beyond the conventional family model, and achieve happiness through motherhood.
What is more odd, in the last two weeks, I have been approached by several acquaintances (single, observant women) who know about the Great Pregnancy Plan. They want to sit with me and hear about my experience, because somehow my example of courage and/or insanity has inspired the idea that they might enter into this as well.
My cousin (KB) last week accused me of being too open and up front (I believe he used the phrase "in your face") about my trying to get pregnant, as a currently single woman. He believes that this is a wonderful process, and while he is glad I am so comfortable with the idea, he feels it should be kept quiet. Until I am showing.
I have never been accused of not expressing my opinion, and have no shame in feeling confident and secure in my decision. If people are talking about me, so be it, if it allows women in my situation and in our closed Orthodox singles community to dare to think beyond the conventional family model, and achieve happiness through motherhood.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Break, By Choice
I spoke this afternoon with the doctor responsible for my case in the Fertility Unit at Hadassah, and he said that as far as he and the surgeon are concerned, I could and should try to get pregnant again, this month. I would start taking the series of hormones this coming Sunday.
I suggested to him that my body might need to rest and recover not only from the surgery, but from the last loss of the pregnancy, which left me sick and unable to function for two days. Remembering the last time I took their advice, and pushed myself into another round when I felt like I needed a break, I told the doctor and the nurses there that in all likelihood I would next be seeing them in December rather than next week.
The nurse almost seemed to take it personally, ending our phone conversation with a formal, "Well, we are always here for you." I appreciate that they want to get me knocked up as soon as possible, and to move me to IVF as soon as possible; as of right now, I am choosing to listen to my body and give it all the chances to succeed next time around, by waiting a few more weeks.
I suggested to him that my body might need to rest and recover not only from the surgery, but from the last loss of the pregnancy, which left me sick and unable to function for two days. Remembering the last time I took their advice, and pushed myself into another round when I felt like I needed a break, I told the doctor and the nurses there that in all likelihood I would next be seeing them in December rather than next week.
The nurse almost seemed to take it personally, ending our phone conversation with a formal, "Well, we are always here for you." I appreciate that they want to get me knocked up as soon as possible, and to move me to IVF as soon as possible; as of right now, I am choosing to listen to my body and give it all the chances to succeed next time around, by waiting a few more weeks.
Braver Women than I
I want to devote very little time in this column today to myself and my surgery, and so here is the summary: It is a good thing that I brought my own soft Kleenex tissues, because I spent a lot of time on-and-off crying that morning before the procedure, mostly because I am a very bad patient and a sissy. Number two on the surgery list for the day, I was wheeled in and put under (for 47 minutes!) around 10:30 am, and brought back to my room around noon. Around four pm, after the doctors and nurses saw me getting up by myself, taking patient calls (don't ask) and moving furniture ( a medium sized chair), they decided that I was well enough to go home, which I did.
I was under anesthesia much longer than anyone had expected, and it was what I call a 'dead sleep,' meaning that while I did not feel any pain Thank G-d, but I also did not dream, and when I woke up, had no memory of having been asleep for almost an hour. I didn't like it.
"This Womb in Clean," [Reference: Poltergeist, the movie] declared the surgeon. After waking up today in my own bed around ten in the morning, I will make every attempt to rest for the next three days, before the boredom makes me want to scream.
While in hospital, Barack Hussein "What the Hell have I gotten myself into" Obama became the 44th President of the United States, and my sister in New York gave birth to a healthy baby boy, with only 15 minutes of labour time.
Now , I would rather focus on two extraordinary women who have shared their stories with me, as I go through this process toward having my own healthy pregnancy and my own healthy child.
The first is Irena, my roommate yesterday at Hadassah. Thanks to my protected status, I received a semi-private room with only two beds, with our own clean bathroom and shower. Irena, an Israeli-Russian nurse about my age, was happily pregnant at 22 weeks - no complications - until three days ago, when she abruptly lost her first child while on vacation with her husband. They rushed back to Jerusalem and she had a D&C, and despite the surgical and medical intervention, when I left yesterday her fever was getting worse rather than better. The surgeon in the Women's Unit had told her that they could only identify one of the two bacteria with which she was infected, and so they were "throwing the antibiotic book" at her system, hoping that one of them will strike the target.
Here's the kicker of this story: she became infected after some amniotic fluid was removed last week in a standard exam for women "our age," by a very capable doctor whom they hired privately at great expense. She did all the right things with all the right doctors, and fell into that small percentage who are harmed by this procedure.
In all this, she comforted me when I was crying, welcomed me with a smile when I returned from the recovery room, and shared her home-made blintzes that her husband had brought. Thanks to her, I did not feel alone, and I did not have to eat a stitch of hospital food.
The second woman I honor today is "A," a friend from college who recently contacted me on the net. In the last four years, she has apparently had too many miscarriages to count, and last year lost a pregnancy after nine weeks. She writes that tissue obtained from the D&C showed that the fetus had an abnormal chromosomal count, and would not have necessarily survived, or lived a healthy life.
Her persistent faith in G-d and Universe amazes and inspires me, she writes: "You should look at each unsuccessful try not as a setback but as part of your journey...I have not lost hope yet that I will have a healthy baby. "
Amen to all of us trying to become mothers, I hope to see you all in the maternity ward with me, within the year.
I was under anesthesia much longer than anyone had expected, and it was what I call a 'dead sleep,' meaning that while I did not feel any pain Thank G-d, but I also did not dream, and when I woke up, had no memory of having been asleep for almost an hour. I didn't like it.
"This Womb in Clean," [Reference: Poltergeist, the movie] declared the surgeon. After waking up today in my own bed around ten in the morning, I will make every attempt to rest for the next three days, before the boredom makes me want to scream.
While in hospital, Barack Hussein "What the Hell have I gotten myself into" Obama became the 44th President of the United States, and my sister in New York gave birth to a healthy baby boy, with only 15 minutes of labour time.
Now , I would rather focus on two extraordinary women who have shared their stories with me, as I go through this process toward having my own healthy pregnancy and my own healthy child.
The first is Irena, my roommate yesterday at Hadassah. Thanks to my protected status, I received a semi-private room with only two beds, with our own clean bathroom and shower. Irena, an Israeli-Russian nurse about my age, was happily pregnant at 22 weeks - no complications - until three days ago, when she abruptly lost her first child while on vacation with her husband. They rushed back to Jerusalem and she had a D&C, and despite the surgical and medical intervention, when I left yesterday her fever was getting worse rather than better. The surgeon in the Women's Unit had told her that they could only identify one of the two bacteria with which she was infected, and so they were "throwing the antibiotic book" at her system, hoping that one of them will strike the target.
Here's the kicker of this story: she became infected after some amniotic fluid was removed last week in a standard exam for women "our age," by a very capable doctor whom they hired privately at great expense. She did all the right things with all the right doctors, and fell into that small percentage who are harmed by this procedure.
In all this, she comforted me when I was crying, welcomed me with a smile when I returned from the recovery room, and shared her home-made blintzes that her husband had brought. Thanks to her, I did not feel alone, and I did not have to eat a stitch of hospital food.
The second woman I honor today is "A," a friend from college who recently contacted me on the net. In the last four years, she has apparently had too many miscarriages to count, and last year lost a pregnancy after nine weeks. She writes that tissue obtained from the D&C showed that the fetus had an abnormal chromosomal count, and would not have necessarily survived, or lived a healthy life.
Her persistent faith in G-d and Universe amazes and inspires me, she writes: "You should look at each unsuccessful try not as a setback but as part of your journey...I have not lost hope yet that I will have a healthy baby. "
Amen to all of us trying to become mothers, I hope to see you all in the maternity ward with me, within the year.
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Day Before
Had a bit of a scare this morning, thinking that the surgery might have to be postponed by a month, but Houston, it's a go!
Today, the day before my minor surgery, I plan to go to the gym and run at least 4k; get a facial and a massage and then work a little. Tonight, I plan to pack for the hospital and get to bed early, as I need to report to Hadassah tomorrow morning by 7:30 am.
I hope that the cats will cooperate and allow themselves to be locked in the house for the next 24 hours. I have already begun the preparations surreptitiously, putting out the litter boxes and extra food, but have done so quietly over the last two days, so as not to tip them off to their impending incarceration. But maybe I do not give their instincts enough credit.
See you all on the other side...
Today, the day before my minor surgery, I plan to go to the gym and run at least 4k; get a facial and a massage and then work a little. Tonight, I plan to pack for the hospital and get to bed early, as I need to report to Hadassah tomorrow morning by 7:30 am.
I hope that the cats will cooperate and allow themselves to be locked in the house for the next 24 hours. I have already begun the preparations surreptitiously, putting out the litter boxes and extra food, but have done so quietly over the last two days, so as not to tip them off to their impending incarceration. But maybe I do not give their instincts enough credit.
See you all on the other side...
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Surgical Instructions
Pre-Op Instructions
1. Wear glasses (rather than contact lenses) the day of the surgery.
2. Remove nail polish from fingers and toes
3. Arrive at hosptial fasting, at least six hours before the surgery.
4. Cancel patients for Thursday, and plan on resting through Saturday.
5. When packing, plan on waiting around for a while ie bring a good book, and don't bring anything truly valuable in the suitcase.
The Day Of Surgery
1. Arrive at hospital at 7:30 in the morning, surgery itself will be anywhere between nine and noon.
2. Don't take any medications or vitamins that morning.
3. I am allowed to brush my teeth however.
4. I will be under for approximately 20 minutes, and once I wake up, I may eat and drink if I feel like it. The infusion will stay in place as long as I need it.
5. After resting for 4-5 hours, I may go home, unless I am feeling unwell and want to sleep at Hadassah overnight, for more supervision. (And all that yummy hosptial food...)
Post-Op
1. There should not be pain after the surgery, but certainly spotting or bleeding anywhere from three to ten days.
2. For the next month, no sex and no using tampons.
3. Starting Sunday after several days of rest, I may return to my usual routine, including exercise, except for avoiding swimming as exercise for three weeks.
4. Two weeks after surgery, report for an ultra-sound.
Notes to self:
1. Don't forget to pack: heavy socks or slippers, a robe from home, a sweater or sweatshirt.
2. Get someone to bring me sushi once I wake up, I am not eating hospital food.
3. The night before, I must also set up the house to keep the cats inside, in case I end up sleeping overnight.
4. Give several people contact information for my family in the US, and a copy of my will. (Just in case...)
1. Wear glasses (rather than contact lenses) the day of the surgery.
2. Remove nail polish from fingers and toes
3. Arrive at hosptial fasting, at least six hours before the surgery.
4. Cancel patients for Thursday, and plan on resting through Saturday.
5. When packing, plan on waiting around for a while ie bring a good book, and don't bring anything truly valuable in the suitcase.
The Day Of Surgery
1. Arrive at hospital at 7:30 in the morning, surgery itself will be anywhere between nine and noon.
2. Don't take any medications or vitamins that morning.
3. I am allowed to brush my teeth however.
4. I will be under for approximately 20 minutes, and once I wake up, I may eat and drink if I feel like it. The infusion will stay in place as long as I need it.
5. After resting for 4-5 hours, I may go home, unless I am feeling unwell and want to sleep at Hadassah overnight, for more supervision. (And all that yummy hosptial food...)
Post-Op
1. There should not be pain after the surgery, but certainly spotting or bleeding anywhere from three to ten days.
2. For the next month, no sex and no using tampons.
3. Starting Sunday after several days of rest, I may return to my usual routine, including exercise, except for avoiding swimming as exercise for three weeks.
4. Two weeks after surgery, report for an ultra-sound.
Notes to self:
1. Don't forget to pack: heavy socks or slippers, a robe from home, a sweater or sweatshirt.
2. Get someone to bring me sushi once I wake up, I am not eating hospital food.
3. The night before, I must also set up the house to keep the cats inside, in case I end up sleeping overnight.
4. Give several people contact information for my family in the US, and a copy of my will. (Just in case...)
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Tapioca Pudding, Anyone?
Today, I attended my pre-surgical orientation at Hadassah Hospital. I had been under the impression that I would be in and out within two hours, and when I arrived, the nurse handed me my schedule for the day, which stated that I would be lucky if I left before 3:30 in the afternoon. Lunch - courtesy of the hospital - included.
8 am: Almost missed bus, after staying awake much of the night, listening to the rain.
8:45 am: Arrived Hadassah Hospital, told that the form I received yesterday from the HMO is incorrect and unusable.
9-9:45 am: Sat in Hadassah Admissions while they worked out the proper form and payment from the HMO. That is the wonderful element of this whole process, that the socialized medical system and my HMO in particular is picking up the costs for basically everything except sperm samples and hormones.
The first question they asked me in Admissions was "Next of Kin;" I did not understand initially what they needed from me, until I realized that I have lived in Israel alone for the last eleven years and more, that I have no direct family members living here, nor do I have a husband. It took me several minutes to think of a person (a distant cousin) whom I thought would want to know if I died on the table. That was perhaps the worst part of this whole day, realizing how alone I felt.
9:45 -11:45 am: Lots of waiting interspersed with brief interviews with the nurse, the doctor, and the lab tech. I managed to finish a great book for science geeks, "How the Mind Works" by Stephen Pinker, a wonderful combination of neurology, psychology and pop culture.
11:45 am-12:30 pm: Lunch, tapioca pudding and all. I resolved that the time that I needed to spend in the hospital next week would include sushi, snuck in with my overnight bag if I had to. I shared my meal with a lovely elderly couple, originally from Brooklyn; the wife was in hospital and her husband had come to visit her. Since they live near Hadassah as well, they said they would be thrilled to adopt me next week while I was in recovery.
12:30 pm: More sitting, and wishing I had not eaten the chicken.
1 pm: I am supposed to meet with the anesthesiologist, who is delayed by several hours. My doctor calls me into his office to explain the basic risks of being put under, I will sign the last of the consent forms the day of the surgery itself. I am released today earlier than expected, mostly because the Women's Floor, and the IVF Unit have a joint field trip day, what is called in Israel a "Yom Kef," and there is little likelihood that any more will get done.
What am I feeling? The IVF Unit at the same facility has lots of light, and an overall pleasant and welcoming atmosphere. Though (ironically) I work with un-well people as a profession, the Women's Floor felt like a hospital, with tired people hanging off their beds, others shuffling around in an inadequate hospital gown, the halls cramped and the bathrooms dirty.
I have until now, Thank G-d, lived a healthy life, and had no intention of being hospitalized until the birth of my child. I am uncomfortable with the idea of being partially incapacitated, and needing help for basic functions like standing up and using the bathroom, even if it is just for one day. And I also don't know what the surgeon will find as long as he is poking around, that unknown quantity scares me most of all.
8 am: Almost missed bus, after staying awake much of the night, listening to the rain.
8:45 am: Arrived Hadassah Hospital, told that the form I received yesterday from the HMO is incorrect and unusable.
9-9:45 am: Sat in Hadassah Admissions while they worked out the proper form and payment from the HMO. That is the wonderful element of this whole process, that the socialized medical system and my HMO in particular is picking up the costs for basically everything except sperm samples and hormones.
The first question they asked me in Admissions was "Next of Kin;" I did not understand initially what they needed from me, until I realized that I have lived in Israel alone for the last eleven years and more, that I have no direct family members living here, nor do I have a husband. It took me several minutes to think of a person (a distant cousin) whom I thought would want to know if I died on the table. That was perhaps the worst part of this whole day, realizing how alone I felt.
9:45 -11:45 am: Lots of waiting interspersed with brief interviews with the nurse, the doctor, and the lab tech. I managed to finish a great book for science geeks, "How the Mind Works" by Stephen Pinker, a wonderful combination of neurology, psychology and pop culture.
11:45 am-12:30 pm: Lunch, tapioca pudding and all. I resolved that the time that I needed to spend in the hospital next week would include sushi, snuck in with my overnight bag if I had to. I shared my meal with a lovely elderly couple, originally from Brooklyn; the wife was in hospital and her husband had come to visit her. Since they live near Hadassah as well, they said they would be thrilled to adopt me next week while I was in recovery.
12:30 pm: More sitting, and wishing I had not eaten the chicken.
1 pm: I am supposed to meet with the anesthesiologist, who is delayed by several hours. My doctor calls me into his office to explain the basic risks of being put under, I will sign the last of the consent forms the day of the surgery itself. I am released today earlier than expected, mostly because the Women's Floor, and the IVF Unit have a joint field trip day, what is called in Israel a "Yom Kef," and there is little likelihood that any more will get done.
What am I feeling? The IVF Unit at the same facility has lots of light, and an overall pleasant and welcoming atmosphere. Though (ironically) I work with un-well people as a profession, the Women's Floor felt like a hospital, with tired people hanging off their beds, others shuffling around in an inadequate hospital gown, the halls cramped and the bathrooms dirty.
I have until now, Thank G-d, lived a healthy life, and had no intention of being hospitalized until the birth of my child. I am uncomfortable with the idea of being partially incapacitated, and needing help for basic functions like standing up and using the bathroom, even if it is just for one day. And I also don't know what the surgeon will find as long as he is poking around, that unknown quantity scares me most of all.
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