Think...then speak
I'm tired this morning. I think I stayed up too late last night, which at 11 p.m. is late for me these days. I have been rather enjoying the luxury of going to bed at a reasonable hour, or even early (one night it was before 9) without worrying that I'm missing an opportunity to get homework done. Early to bed equals early to rise, so I've reinstated my gym routine and am now happily (and sleepily) rolling out of bed at 5:10 a.m. to pull on work-out clothes before bundling up to freeze in the car for two miles. When the weather breaks I may try riding my bike up there, but no way am I climbing on that thing when it's four degrees.
I stayed up last night partly to watch Conan, to see how he'd spin this raw deal he's getting. He did a great job...M and I were in stitches. Hope the guy gets a break.
Attended my first Infertility and Adoption Support board meeting in about a year and a half last night. It's so nice to get my life back...to get to work on the things I want to do. Given my newfound freedom (and apparent zest for torture), I volunteered to pull together our big fundraiser for the year: the annual Trivia Night. I did this only on the condition that, come the night of the event, I'm allowed to purchase a table and attend as a guest. Had way too much fun last year to miss that. And besides, my table has to redeem itself after our ignoble loss to M's table. (Annie Liebovitz didn't shoot for Vogue until the 90s, if at all, and if she did, it was sporadic. She was Rolling Stone's photog for years, and does a lot for Vanity Fair. Vogue? Not so much. You people got a free mulligan on that one.) (Yes, I'm still bitter.)
I don't have a date yet...in fact, I don't even have the contact name and number for the church where we hold it to line it up yet. But stay tuned. It'll be sometime in late March or early April, on a Saturday night. It's a fun night to support a wonderful organization.
IAS is hosting an informational booth at the Working Women's Survival Show again this year, and notes were made to warn our booth volunteers about possible insensitivities that could be encountered. I was stunned to learn that many of our volunteers who are struggling with infertility and are at various stages of cycles and medical assistance had to hear women stroll by the booth making comments like, "Damn, I don't need that. I got too many kids already. You can have one of mine!"
My solution was to provide our volunteers with daggers, which they could just whip out, fling, and fell the heartless jerks who obviously can't think before they speak.
Then I realized that probably most people don't realize just how painful infertility is. If you've never experienced it, after all, how are you to know? This is part of our mission, and my personal mission. Educate people about infertility, and banish the stigma associated with it. Most people who are struggling to conceive don't really want to tell the world about it. Who wants to say, "Hey, yeah, I am dying to have a child, but my body won't cooperate..." Ordinary events become extremely painful to endure. A coworker announcing a pregnancy once caused me to lock myself in the bathroom for 30 minutes, crying. I quit going to baby showers altogether. Mother's Day at church was unbearable, as the priest asked all mothers to stand for their special blessing. Illness wasn't hard to feign on that day...I was nauseous from the mere idea of having to suffer through that humiliation. Innocent loved ones would regularly ask, "So when are you going to have a baby?" How would they know that each inquiry felt like a knife to my heart?
I tell you this in the hopes that, if you've never experienced infertility, you'll at least be more sensitive to those of us who have, or who may be currently dealing with it. Having a child is an incredibly personal decision that concerns only two people: the potential parents. I'm not sure why, in our society, questioning people about their reproductive plans has become so commonplace, but I sure wish it would stop. And for Pete's sake, think before you speak if you're walking by someone staffing an infertility booth. There's a reason we're there. Don't make it hard for us to help other people who are hurting just like us.
Two and a third miles at the gym this morning. Back in the volunteer game. Going to bed early and enjoying what's left of The Tonight Show. Good stuff. Glad to be back.
I stayed up last night partly to watch Conan, to see how he'd spin this raw deal he's getting. He did a great job...M and I were in stitches. Hope the guy gets a break.
Attended my first Infertility and Adoption Support board meeting in about a year and a half last night. It's so nice to get my life back...to get to work on the things I want to do. Given my newfound freedom (and apparent zest for torture), I volunteered to pull together our big fundraiser for the year: the annual Trivia Night. I did this only on the condition that, come the night of the event, I'm allowed to purchase a table and attend as a guest. Had way too much fun last year to miss that. And besides, my table has to redeem itself after our ignoble loss to M's table. (Annie Liebovitz didn't shoot for Vogue until the 90s, if at all, and if she did, it was sporadic. She was Rolling Stone's photog for years, and does a lot for Vanity Fair. Vogue? Not so much. You people got a free mulligan on that one.) (Yes, I'm still bitter.)
I don't have a date yet...in fact, I don't even have the contact name and number for the church where we hold it to line it up yet. But stay tuned. It'll be sometime in late March or early April, on a Saturday night. It's a fun night to support a wonderful organization.
IAS is hosting an informational booth at the Working Women's Survival Show again this year, and notes were made to warn our booth volunteers about possible insensitivities that could be encountered. I was stunned to learn that many of our volunteers who are struggling with infertility and are at various stages of cycles and medical assistance had to hear women stroll by the booth making comments like, "Damn, I don't need that. I got too many kids already. You can have one of mine!"
My solution was to provide our volunteers with daggers, which they could just whip out, fling, and fell the heartless jerks who obviously can't think before they speak.
Then I realized that probably most people don't realize just how painful infertility is. If you've never experienced it, after all, how are you to know? This is part of our mission, and my personal mission. Educate people about infertility, and banish the stigma associated with it. Most people who are struggling to conceive don't really want to tell the world about it. Who wants to say, "Hey, yeah, I am dying to have a child, but my body won't cooperate..." Ordinary events become extremely painful to endure. A coworker announcing a pregnancy once caused me to lock myself in the bathroom for 30 minutes, crying. I quit going to baby showers altogether. Mother's Day at church was unbearable, as the priest asked all mothers to stand for their special blessing. Illness wasn't hard to feign on that day...I was nauseous from the mere idea of having to suffer through that humiliation. Innocent loved ones would regularly ask, "So when are you going to have a baby?" How would they know that each inquiry felt like a knife to my heart?
I tell you this in the hopes that, if you've never experienced infertility, you'll at least be more sensitive to those of us who have, or who may be currently dealing with it. Having a child is an incredibly personal decision that concerns only two people: the potential parents. I'm not sure why, in our society, questioning people about their reproductive plans has become so commonplace, but I sure wish it would stop. And for Pete's sake, think before you speak if you're walking by someone staffing an infertility booth. There's a reason we're there. Don't make it hard for us to help other people who are hurting just like us.
Two and a third miles at the gym this morning. Back in the volunteer game. Going to bed early and enjoying what's left of The Tonight Show. Good stuff. Glad to be back.
posted by Amy at 8:28 AM
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