pregnancy – Maybe Mama

I Skipped My First Baby Shower…And I Don’t Feel Guilty

In the infertility world, we talk a lot about doing what’s best for you to make it through this crazy journey. This was the first time I truly did what was best for me no matter how anyone else felt about it.

I skipped a friend’s baby shower. I never thought I would be one of those. But I was, and I don’t feel bad about it.

March was our first IVF. The ultimate result was a fail. Our embryos didn’t make it to blastocyst (stopped growing on day five), and I was caught off guard and a little depressed. OK, a lot depressed, but that’s a story for another post.

Up until this point, I would say I was pretty positive

Insert our friends and their pregnancy.

This is a couple we have done a lot of things with: date nights, birthday parties, game nights, Cookouts, Weddings, Critiquing other friends’ girlfriends/boyfriends. We even got engaged within a few weeks of each other and married in the same year.

We did a lot together…except get pregnant. Of course they have no idea about our struggle. When I first heard the news about the pregnancy, I had that mixed feeling many of us know all too well of happiness and despair. Excitement and panic. Joy and pain. (no sunshine or rain)

Once we got the announcement around the holidays, I started stressing about the shower. I knew it was coming because we saw one of the grandmas-to-be at another event, and she told me the date they had in mind for the shower.

I went back and forth in my mind about going, months before it even happened. Eventually, the invite came, and it got real. It was a co-ed shower, so both hubby and I were invited. He was an emphatic “Yes”. I was still undecided. I felt bad, but I had to pop his bubble a bit and ask him if he was prepared for questions about us having a baby. We had just found out about or failed IVF cycle a few weeks before and were still processing. I know men handle this differently, but they do have feelings. I didn’t want him to be caught off guard when someone asks, and he was triggered. I had to remind him it’s a little different now, and that he may feel some type of way when someone says, “You two are next!” I’ve become an expert. He’s still a rookie in these types of interactions.

He said he’d be fine. The real question was if I was going to go.

“Put me down as ‘yes’ for now, but I’m not sure.”

The weeks passed, and finally we’re at the week of the shower. I was still on the fence. We needed a gift, so of course I volunteered to stop at Target after work to pick up some items off the registry.

I always like to give books as part of a baby’s gift. I like books, and I want to create little readers. Plus, reading is great bonding time with parents and kids. I went into the book section, looking for some of my favorites; The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Green Eggs and Ham, but I’m always looking for new books.

That’s when I found Wish. I vaguely remembered someone on Instagram mentioning the book. I opened it and started to read…and started to cry in the Target. In the children’s book aisle.

The plot:

As an elephant couple embark on a life together, thoughts of children are far away-at first. But as the desire for a child grows, so do unexpected challenges. And it’s only after thwarted plans and bitter disappointment that their deepest wish miraculously comes true.

So, there I am, reading this sweet book, and tears running down my face. That decided it: I. Wasn’t. Ready. Cute onesies, bibs and blankets are one thing, but an amazing children’s book about how Mommy and Daddy had to suffer and fight to have you: Waterworks.

I knew If I couldn’t read that book and keep it together in a Target, the chances of me making it through a shower were slim.

I went home, wrapped the gifts, and told my husband I wasn’t going.

“What do you want me to say?”

I didn’t have to think long because I did have an out. I had a meeting, then a little fellowship afterwards. They didn’t know that I could leave or skip it all together if I wanted. Perfect! “I have chapter meeting, and it’s an important one. I won’t be done in time to ride down with you.” (They live about a two hour away since our move)

Hubby went, and by all reports and pictures posted to Facebook, the shower was great.

As for me, I did what I wanted that day, and I felt not one drop of guilt. I’d rather have people slightly disappointed that I wasn’t there, than for me to be uncomfortable, on edge, wrestling my emotions, and recycling one of my canned responses to when we’ll have kids or why I ‘m not pregnant.

At some point, you have to choose you. Sometimes that looks like selfishness, being disengaged, or a party pooper to others.

But if they only knew the real story…….

If you’re interested in purchasing Wish by Matthew Cordell, for you or a friend, you can do so here.

So a Woman Thinketh, So is She

It is Mother’s Day. Again. Last year for Mother’s Day, I unplugged, and I was able to lift my spirits and cross off a major bucket list item by going to see Prince in concert. Alone. It was one of best days EVER!

This year, Prince has passed away, I am still sad about it, and I skipped going with my Husband to brunch with my Mother In Love (Law) because I just wasn’t in the mood. She doesn’t yet know about our struggle, and I just didn’t feel like pretending I was in a good place. I sent my card with my husband.

Instead, I’m home with the cat, listening to Prince, and blogging, which is perfect.

Of course, this week, I’ve been thinking about and dreading Mother’s Day, like many of us Maybe Mamas do. The past month or so, a lot of things have happened on the road to possible motherhood. In April, I had a final hysteroscopy to check out my uterine cavity, to see if the balloon used in the November procedure helped in minimizing/preventing scar tissue. A few days before I went in, my husband and I had a conversation where I questioned if I even wanted to have kids at all. I went on about how our time would not be our own, how all the moms I know (with kids under 5) are so boring now. They’ve completely lost their sense of self. All the money we’d now have to spend on the child’s needs, how uncomfortable and unpleasant pregnancy seems….
But in the next breath, I answered my own question: “But I guess, if I didn’t want to have a baby, I wouldn’t spend all this time and money making sure I could”

“True”, hubby responded.

Let's be real for a second, this ish does not look fun. — Let’s be real for a second, this ish does not look fun.

So I really started thinking: What do we tell ourselves to make this all hurt less? I’ve come to realize my main coping mechanism has been a denial of sorts. I’ve tried to convinced myself that I don’t really want to be a mom. I see all the negatives in parenting: The screaming toddler in Target, the sleeplessness, the projectile vomiting, constant worry if you’re doing right by your child. Never having a life. These things are real, and a part of motherhood, but that’s not all that it is.

I truly have come to terms with the fact that I may never be a biological mother, or a mother at all. I think that is part of the infertility journey. Keep hope alive, but acknowledge all possible outcomes. What I have done over time is beyond that.

I’ve tried to shield myself from disappointment and hurt by trying to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Motherhood is not something I really want.

Its like Cinderella when when she realized she wasn’t going to the ball, despite doing everything her step mother said she had to do. She did her best (for all of 5 seconds) to convince herself that that Ball was going to suck, and she wasn’t missing anything.

"Oh, well, what's a royal ball? After all, I suppose it would be frightfully dull, and boring, and completely... completely wonderful." — “Oh, well, what’s a royal ball? After all, I suppose it would be frightfully dull, and boring, and completely… completely wonderful.” ~Cindy

But the reality is, I do want to be a mother, and its painful to think that I may never be. Some days, its too much to think about, so I don’t. The best I can do is try to convince myself that like the Royal Ball, Motherhood sucks. Except, much like Cinderella, I’m not doing such a great job of fooling myself.

I chose the title of this post based form Proverbs 23:7, which most people interrupt as a verse cautioning us to be mindful of our thoughts, as they become who we are. Reading the whole verse, and the verses before and after, and other translations, that’s not what is meant at all.

The verse is referring to a person who says one thing out of their mouth, but doesn’t mean it. They invite you to come over, eat and enjoy, but inside, they’re hoping you don’t. The full scripture:

Do not eat the bread of a miser,^[a]
Nor desire his delicacies;
⁷For as he thinks in his heart, so is he.
“Eat and drink!” he says to you,
But his heart is not with you.

Now, I’m no “miser”, but I am being insincere with my words when I say I don’t really want to have a baby. I say I’d much rather just O and I be the “cool auntie and uncle”, that way we have our time, money (and my body) to ourselves. The ultimate proof that its all bs is not the myomectomy, or the three procedures I’ve undergone to remove scarring (and recently endometriosis), and the months of hormones I took to try to restore my uterine lining. Its not the research I’ve done on adoption. Its the consult we had this past week with a fertility doctor, and the tests we’re about to take, and the IVF journey we are about to start. Someone who doesn’t want it would not bother with any of this.

So on this Mother’s Day, I give myself the gift of acceptance, and permission to feel and experience all of the emotions that come with this journey. Some days are hopeful. Some days are depressing, and that’s OK.

Its OK to want something that seems just out of reach, and its OK to feel the creep of that green-eyed monster when it seems everyone else but me is enjoying that which is illusive: Motherhood.

I want to give this gift to you too. My sisters in this battle. Give yourself permission to feel how you feel, today and everyday.

What have you been telling yourself?

Dear Tyra: An Open Thank You note to Tyra Banks

Dear Tyra,

Hey girl! I wanted to drop you a quick note today because, you were “on my heart” as the church ladies say.

I guess you can say I’ve been a fan for years. In the 90s, when you were in your modeling prime, I was in high school, and it was always nice to see a brown girl doing fashion, slaying. Giving us #blackgirlmagic before we had a name for it. You jumped into acting on Fresh Prince, and in Higher Learning, and who can forget that TV movie where you were a life sized doll come to life (I don’t think I actually watched that one though), oh, and the slightly bitchy fiancée in Love and Basketball.

Of course, you had your shows: The Tyra talk show, and America’s Next Top Model. When ANTM started, I was newly out of college, and my friend/roomie and I made sure we were off the phone from moms and boyfriends, and had our snacks on deck so we could watch. In the later seasons, I stopped watching, but my mom “discovered” the show and took all the modeling tips to heart. She smizes in damn near every picture now.

I was also a fan of the talk show. It was fun. Informative. Honest. I know you took some criticism when you dressed as a fat person, or went as homeless. But one of the moments I loved, was when, after paparazzi got some pics of you on the beach and the “Tyra’s getting fat” articles and comments began, you told them all to kiss your fat ass. Classic.

You started your foundation (TZONE) for girls to empower and inspire. When you decided you wanted to be an entrepreneur, you enrolled in classes at Harvard Business school.

I bring up all of the things you’ve done in your career just to highlight that you have been a role model to women and girls, especially Black women. I think your place and accomplishments are often overlooked. You lay low. You say what you want. You keep it classy. Thank you for being an example of girl power.

A few weeks back, I saw segment on FABlife, where Chrissy Teigan talked about her difficulties getting pregnant, and you also took that moment to share:

I want to co-sign what Chrissy is saying and say ‘You have no idea what people are going through’. Why am I crying? You just have no idea what people are going through, so when you ask Chrissy [why don’t you have kids] or me that or anybody that, it is none of your frigging business, okay? And for any women, it is none of your business what somebody is going through. Whether they want to have a child or don’t ever want to have a child or may have a child on the way, it’s none of your business, okay? Until somebody wants to make it your business

Exactly.

I loved this whole moment, because, I too, am one of those women. The 1 in 8 couples who struggle to get pregnant. I too, am tired of people asking about “when?” or “why?” when it comes to having a baby. Its not their business, and you don’t know what I’m going through or how hard I’m trying to get pregnant.

I love when those who have a platform use it. You, Gabrielle Union, Tamar Braxton, and other celebrity women have come out and said pregnancy has been a challenge. I love even more that as a Black woman, you’ve said something. We just keep acting like this is not a problem in “our” community, when it is. Just as much as it is in any community.

Tyra, the point is: Thank You for sharing you journey to motherhood! Thank you for putting a face to infertility. Thank you for being open and vulnerable. Thank you for sharing your son with us.

There are hundreds, maybe thousands of every day women, who share, or try to inspire others with their journey. (Like myself), but you are able to speak to more people with one post than many of us can all year.

Thank you again, Tyra for being someone who has consistently taken risks, taken a stand, and been yourself.

Congratulations on your new baby boy!

via @tryabanks instagram — via @tyrabanks instagram

Monica, Robin, and Anna, but not Whitley, Aunt Viv, or Mary Jane: Why aren’t Black Characters in the Infertility Narrative?

Last Sunday night, I was curled up in my bed for the season premiere episode of the final season of Downton Abby. (At this point, if you haven’t yet watched that episode, spoiler alert ahead!)

Within the first 15 minutes, Anna reveals (implies) that she’d recently suffered a miscarriage, and that this wasn’t the first time. (Lord knows, if you watch Downton, Anna’s been through enough!) This got me to thinking about how these pregnancy and fertility issues come up in TV and movies. So much so that I tuned out a bit from the episode for a few minutes. It also made me think about working conditions and society expectations of the time. She had a miscarriage, but got dressed and came to work. Those types of things were definitely not discussed openly at that time. The shame that was probably associated with not getting pregnant in that era was Much, much more than it is today, though so many of us still feel, or are made to feel ashamed.

I kept on down this rabbit hole of thoughts, and I began to think about how infertility and difficulty maintaining a pregnancy has never, as far as I’m aware, been addressed on any Black TV show, comedy or drama that are not medical drama.

I know two shows (that happen to be some of my favorites) that had characters who suffered from infertility: Monica Geller from Friends and Robin Scherbatsky from How I Met Your Mother. But, I cannot think of any Black character who dealt with this issue. The closest I can think is Maxine Shaw from Living Single and Mary-Jane Paul from Being Mary Jane, who did not suffer form infertility, but made “alternative” choices to attempt motherhood.

Now of course, I haven’t seen every episode of every TV show, so if you know of a Black show, or even character that did go through this, please feel free to comment and school me.

Anyone that is or was a fan of Friends, knows that Monica and Chandler got married in season 7, and found out later (season 9) that could not have a baby naturally. Both Monica and Chandler had factors contributing to their infertility. In the end, they decided to adopt and ended up with twins.

Of course, Friends was a sitcom, and dealt with the issue in a light way, but it did manage to address this very real issue. In fact, the Monica and Chandler story is the second fertility related story line in the series. In Season 4, Phoebe acts as a surrogate for her brother and his wife.

The great part about both of these story lines is at the time, there was even less of a profile on IVF, surrogacy, and infertility. To even address this at all, especially in a sitcom format, was a bit ahead of its time.

The only slight counter part to this as a Black character that I can think of is Maxine Shaw from the 90’s sitcom Living Single. In the final season, Max decides to become a mother via a donor (who she later finds out happens to be Kyle). Its never said or implied that it is because she is having any difficulties, but just because she is ready to have a child, and with her independent nature (“Maxine Shaw: Mavrick”), she just does it. It was more about being in control of her life as a woman, not the physical ability.

Max's attitude about life. I love her — Max’s attitude about life. I love her

I will give credit for the Living Single writers for even bringing up the idea of sperm donation as a pathway to motherhood for a Black woman into the story line. Again, in the 90s, assisted pregnancy was still a mystery to most people and there was a lot of negative attitudes surrounding those processes. The idea of a baby created outside of the body, or having a doctor insert sperm in a woman to impregnate a woman was still a little taboo and considered weird. And in the Black community?! Forget about it! If that’s how you got pregnant, you better lie to your friends and family and either make an agreement with a guy friend that he’s the “father”, or say the father disappeared. At that time, either of those was better than telling your Gram-Gram that you picked a guy from a binder and had doctor impregnate you. The fact that Max was choosing a sperm donor was a huge f’n deal. Max, as was the characters personality, was unashamed of her choice.

The other popular, recent, and I would say more well done infertility story is Robin. In season 7, Robin thinks she’s pregnant with Barney’s baby. After she’s told she’s not (and they do a quick celebration dance), her doctor calls her back in a few days later to discuss other test results. The doctor delivers the unfortunate news that she cannot get pregnant. The HIMYM episode has the benefit of happening in the current era (season 7 aired in 2011-2012), where there is a better space to to discuss infertility. The episode walks the fine line of a sitcom and a bit of drama dealing with a serious topic. Its a great episode. When I see it on re runs, I usually cry, because the range of feelings and emotions you see her go through are so real.

MJ preps for the fertility process. Robin deals with unexpected disappointment

Again, there is no counter part that is Black to this story line anywhere that I am aware of. The closest I can come, again, is a non traditional choice (key word choice) into motherhood, and that would be Mary Jane Paul of Being Mary Jane*.

Mary Jane is a complicated character, which is the charm of the show. She has these brilliant moments, then does something impulsive, selfish, and dumb. Like we all do. Without getting too bogged down into details, Mary Jane “steals” sperm form a lover, and keeps it in her freezer. She convinces her doctor bestie to inseminate her at home with a baster. Obviously unsuccessful.

Later, as a kick off to a new season of her news show, she undergoes fertility treatments to have IVF with donor sperm, and documents it for the world to see. However, the implantation was unsuccessful. Ultimately, she decides to leave the issue and not try another cycle.

Again, I credit this show for even going there, and bonus points for going deeper. Her fertility process wasn’t just mentioned, it was documented. We saw her have hot flashes. Give herself injections. Have second thoughts. Be disappointed. Have questions. But, at this point, this was a choice, not a necessity for Mary Jane. If there is ever a show with a Black cast and Black female lead that would tackle this issue head on, it would be Being Mary Jane. I would not be surprised if this issue comes back around and MJ has to face known infertility, and has to try a second round with a little more purpose and urgency. The writing team on this show is amazing, and if any team can bring this to life, it would be them.

Art is truly imitating life. Even in a parallel TV universe, we’re still not fully able to discuss infertility in Black families as a real issue that real Black women deal with. I am hopeful that this will soon change. With so much innovative programming, not just on TV, but on line and streaming, the possibilities are endless. Think of the impact a major show with a character, a Black Woman character, going through infertility could have. How it could shift perceptions and help remove the shame women feel. It can be done in a smart and funny, and culturally relevant way.

Imagine if Aunt Viv (the original), who got pregnant, at one can assume, well past 40, even briefly mentioned having a hard time getting pregnant.

What if Rainbow and Dre talked about the baby they lost before getting pregnant with Jack and Diane?

We could get into the further and deeper issue of the broader representation of women in media and Black people/Black women in media, but that is definitely a whole ‘nother post!

Black people want smart, relevant, diverse content and stories, as the numbers for recent shows like Black-ish, Empire, and How to Get Away With Murder prove. We need this infertility narrative in our stories too, because it is happening. I am thankful for the attention and story lines that do feature infertility, no mater who the subject is, but I’m waiting to see my sistas shine and use their art as a platform to change, even start the conversation.

black-women-tv_400x295_93 — Sistas are doin’ It for Themselves. So many Black women on TV, and yet… Photo: Essence Magazine Online

*2018 FYI- Gabrielle Union who played Mary Jane Paul, is an infertility warrior in real life. She has suffered 9 miscarriages and gone through numerous IVF cycles.

There’s No Place Like Home (And Endless Questions) for the Hoilidays

This week kicks off the American Holiday season: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year’s Eve.

Plenty of food, parties, shopping sprees, drinks, and time with family and friends. Time with family and friends usually means people want a life update: How’s School? How’s Work? Did you get the job you interviewed for? When are you going to get married? When are you going to have kids?

When the family asks you about babies (or getting a husband…or BOTH)

Its those last two that have always just irked the hell out of me. When you’re single, or even if you’re in a relationship, you get tired of people asking the same damn question (that frankly isn’t any of their business). “Don’t worry about when I’m getting married. You’ll know when you get the invite” is what you want to say , but usually don’t. Shout out to all the women who do say that to their families. You’re my shero. I know I’m married now, but the memory of that annoying question and feeling of being put on the spot is all too real. After all, I didn’t get married until October of 2015 at 36. There were many a holiday where I was asked about a boyfriend/marriage every five minutes.

Its the same with children. It doesn’t matter if you’re single, dating or married, you get tired of people asking about your plan for procreation. “When you get the baby shower invite, you’ll know”

It becomes even more painful when people don’t even know what they’re asking. They have no idea that by asking you about having babies they are picking at a wound you are trying desperately to let heal, because you can’t have babies. Or you can’t have them without a lot of assistance from medical technology and a lot of cash. So you smile awkwardly, or change the subject, or quickly stuff some more sweet potato pie in your mouth so you don’t have to answer.

It can be rough, but here’s a great piece from the Huffington Post by K.K. Goldberg about her experience and making it though. As always, you’re not alone.

The Silent Hell of Infertility During Holidays

Keep you head up this Thanksgiving, and keep your glass of wine handy.