Update

The most amazing things have happened in the last few months. Wonderful, life-changing things. I am so happy now. First, I quit my job. Second, I had a baby. The second thing precipitated the first. It was a difficult pregnancy and required me to slow down and be kind to my body - something you absolutely cannot do in a law firm. I was basically in labor from Thanksgiving last year until February 22, 2010 at 1:19am. Today I picked up my baby boy from his nap and as he smiled up at me with the sheet marks still on his little rosy cheeks, he melted my heart for about the millionth time.

I am just now learning to relax and reflect on the events of the last few years. They were so intense. So full of conflicting emotions that I felt compelled to keep to myself for fear no one would understand. Only now do I feel like I can begin to open up and describe them. But I want to do so on a broader scale - in a way that will help other people find their voices also and maybe lessen their pain even as I describe my own. I am still working out the details, but hopefully soon I'll have something else that is exciting and new to share...

Hello, again.

So I can't believe that it's been 8 months since I wrote to you. I've been thinking of writing again for a few weeks now and it's hard to know where to begin. So much has happened I just haven't been able to sit down and blog. I've been needing and hoping for and praying for big changes in my life for years and now they've finally happened. There's just so much to process and so much to consider. Not that I'm not grateful, I am incredibly so. Guess I've just needed a quiet place to sit down and take it all in and figure out what to do with myself. And frankly, I haven't been sure anyone would understand if I actually published my true feelings. They don't always match my new reality.

So then I ask myself, why did I start the blog in the first place? If I just clam up when there's a lot going on and I become afraid about how people will react to my thoughts? But I heard a song on the radio on the way home that expresses my thoughts exactly. I'm sure you've heard it: Breath, by Anna Nalick. One of the lines talks about how she's awake at 2 am writing a song because if she gets her whole feelings out on paper they're

"no longer inside of me, threatening the life they belong to. And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd, Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud And I know that you'll use them, however you want to..."

That's a little bit how it feels. And lately I've just had to retreat to the shadows backstage and gather my wits before leaping back out in front of anyone and baring myself. But...it feels better to share than to hide, so as soon as I figure out how to begin again, you'll hear from me.

Wishing you a lovely fall...

Honey

Eight is Enough?

Chuck Colson is one of my modern-day heroes, someone on my list of people I'd like to meet some day. I usually devour his BreakPoint articles with hearty enthusiasm. But not so today. Today's BreakPoint article (with the same title I have given my post) regarding the now-famous woman in Caifornia who recently gave birth to eight babies has me perturbed. It's not his observations regarding Nadya Suleman's story or regarding the devaluation of family today. And the article's explanation of the dichotomy between the devaluation of the family, even among those who seek so desperately to obtain it, is excellent.

It's the underlying tone of the article - what is read between the lines - that disturbes me. Merely by omission of a discussion of anything else, it seems to assume that all people who use assisted reproduction technology are those who flaunt traditional family values in favor of the "it's all about me" mentality that is so prevalent today. Seems to assume that all people who use assisted reproduction technology are those that wait until an unnatural age to conceive merely for personal convenience, irresponsibly pursue any technology that will give them a shot at pregnancy whether it is actually a good idea or not, run full-steam ahead without fully understanding all the tricky little ethical details no one is anxious to discuss, or otherwise put their own desires ahead of the concerns of the yet-unborn child(ren).

As it happens, this attitude is disturbingly common among people unfamiliar with the individual circumstances of those of us who are unfortunate enough to find ourselves in need of reproductive assistance. As if the mere fact of our need is not humiliating enough, we have to deal with people who assume the worst of us before we even explain ourselves. But what about the individuals who, through no fault of their own, are faced with a choice between remaining childless and pursuing a technological means of assistance? Is there any room in Mr. Colson's article for a God-fearing, responsible, married couple to take advantage of the miracles of modern technology to achieve a common dream that would have been impossible a mere 10 years ago? Even if it means taking advantage of a technology which is often misused and abused? Or must we eschew technology and remain in the dark ages, as shunned outcasts very likely to end up old and alone with no one to care for us? Is the God who created the very minds which developed such remarkable technology merciful enough to allow the redemption of the abused technology through responsible, moral usage? According to Mr. Colson, apparently not, as the article calls invitro-fertilization a "rejection of the natural order and the God who instituted that order."

For me, beyond highlighting the disgrace of infertility, the article begs the following question: where do unfortunate facts cease to be the proverbial mountain we must grit our teeth and climb and become an Everest which only the intrepid - only those who we do not know whether to call heroes or fools - will attempt? Regardless of Mr. Colson's article, at one point in time I would have automatically assumed that a God wonderful enough to create miracle technology which saves lives every day - and helps people achieve their dreams every day - is indeed merciful and loving and capable of transforming the ugly and abused (even when it is technology) into a blessing. At one point in time I would have known instinctively that God would allow us to embrace such technology - and would even bless us in doing so - so long as we do so responsibly and in accordance with the spirit of his law. But today I confess that I have no idea whether this is true. The fact of infertility feels so unfair, so punishing, so heavy and so oppressive that I can no longer imagine a merciful and loving God. I wish Mr. Colson had thought through his article more carefully so as to take into consideration an outcast like me. Maybe he would have given me some hope and a better perspective in the process.

Billing

I feel like my mind is chained to my desk. We are supposed to bill at least 7.5 to 8 hours a day to clients, in 6 minute increments. Obviously, you can't bill lunch, bathroom time, coffee beaks, chats with your secretary about her weekend, etc. If it's not actually productive time that you would ask a client to pay for, you can't bill it. That's fair, but to actually bill 7.5 hours you have to be in the office for at least 10 to 12 hours. That's a long day. And the trouble is, I can't concentrate. So it's 3:00 and I've billed exactly 2.6 hours. I should have done that by lunch time. I've got at least 5 more hours to bill today which means that if I think of nothing but work - literally - for the next 5 hours I might actually meet my goal for the day. That is, if I don't go to the bathroom, don't get hungry and go looking for a snack, don't take my husband's afternoon phone call, don't think about what I'm going to have for dinner tonight, don't send that email to my girlfriends to plan our next girls' weekend, and don't buy my tickets for New York next weekend, I might not start the day with a deficit. Great.

And still, it's 3:00 and my current task is nearly impossible because my partner barely explained it to me before rushing off to meetings. He won't be free until at least 5:30 today to answer my questions, which means whether I make my hours or not it will be at least 7:00 today before I can even consider going home. By that time I will surely not care a rip whether I make my hours for the day or not. And that's early, by firm time, but it still sucks. I'm tired. My head hurts. I'm bored with this damn opinion letter and don't' have enough information to do it right anyway. My other client is acting like an *&$D! and blaming me for his oversights. So instead of sitting here and staring out the window with utter abandon I am typing out this note so that I will remember to post it tonight, hoping that by merely getting my thoughts out on paper so they stop spinning around in my head I'll be able to concentrate more. As if this will make the opinion letter more interesting somehow. Here's hoping...

So much for that. It's 9:30 and I've finally gotten home, fed the dog, got some dinner and am now "relaxing." I left the office at 7:00 and billed exactly 6.1 hours. That's a minimum of 1.4 to make up tomorrow...

Good Riddance 2008

The day that not even a pair of brand new, Michael Kors, snakeskin sandals could cheer me up I knew I was in trouble. I think it was in August and can't even remember why, specifically, the day was so bad. Stinging criticism from my boss (excuse me, my mentor, as he likes to be called), long hours, boring assignment...doesn't matter what it was any more. New shoes are always bittersweet - that unique combination of beautiful new shiny-ness and blisters - but they usually can cheer me up. Not so this year, I suppose. So, instead of laying sleepless in my bed tonight and dwelling on why, exactly, this year has been so bad I thought it more appropriate to think over the things that I actually enjoyed this year, including some notable "firsts." Here goes, in no particular order:

Watching fireworks from my front porch! We totally lucked into that one.

My new dog Jack!

Pumpkins on my front porch.

Jamaica! This trip included two notable firsts, both of which shall remain nameless. Use your imagination.

My new favorite wine: malbec!

Old friends who stick by me and continue to send me very sweet cards and emails, despite numerous unreturned phone calls. Who even promise to run with me through the streets screaming at how unfair life can be if I ask them to.

New friends who make me laugh.

My new favorite ice cream: Marble Slab Creamery!

Horseback riding lessons - a first!

Let's face it, laughter through tears can be some of the best laughter of all, so, despite the fact that 2008 will go down in history as one of the worst ever, I wanted to share a few happy memories. Even if they are just the little ones. The dog and horseback riding lessons are both firsts for me, but they certainly won't be the last of either. So far they have been good experiences, despite Jack peeing a ring around the pool table (that's right - a dribble around the entire table). Which leads to another first for me: a new steam-cleaner! I'll have to add that to my 2009 list of "firsts." Stay tuned...

Lost Voice

My mother gave me a hard time for being mad at God and unable to pray anymore. She said I was putting conditions on God, as if I were a spoiled child turning my back, sticking out my tongue and saying "if you won't give me what I want I won't talk to you anymore." But that's not it at all. Shouldn't she know me better than that anyway? I was too upset at the time to discuss it further and just ended the conversation and walked away. Merry fucking Christmas.

I wish she could have talked less and listened more. The last thing that grieving people need is to be hit over the head with the Bible. I'd rather be hit with a 2x4 than a Bible. I imagine it would hurt less. I wish I could have explained it better. But at the time I was simply too upset to even try.

There's a scene in a movie that best describes what this feels like. It's a gut-wrenching scene that will rip your heart right out of your chest. It's from the movie Hope Floats with Sandra Bullock and Harry Connick, Jr. Sandra's character moves from Chicago to Texas with her daughter when she finds out that her husband is having an affair. When Sandra's mother dies, the husband comes to visit and the daughter wants to go back "home" with her dad. But her dad is too focused on his paramour to let his daughter come home with him. In the scene, when he tells her good-bye, she runs upstairs, packs a backpack and grabs a teddy bear, thinking he will take her with him. She follows her dad out of the house and down to his car begging him to let her go with him. Clutching the teddy bear, she follows him down the sidewalk saying "Daddy, take me with you." But he just keeps walking away, half-heartedly telling her that he loves her but she can't come with him. Again and again she pleads and again and again he walks further away until she is hysterically screaming on the sidewalk and he is driving away to go find his girlfriend. She ends up standing on the sidewalk alone, howling for her daddy. It is the ultimate rejection for a little girl. Finally, her mother comes out and picks her up and takes her inside.

In my heart it feels like I am the little girl and God is the dad who is too interested in his paramour - in this case, all the pregnant women of the world - to listen to me. Apparently they simply hold more appeal than I do. But there's only so long you can stand on the sidewalk and scream before you lose your voice and have to give up and go inside.

The grief that childless couples experience is unique and it is naive to expect those who have never been there to relate. But I thought surely my mother of all people would be wise enough not to try to justify what is happening. As if somehow I am the problem and I need to just get with the program. If God is really up there and is really the God that I believe him to be, then he will understand my need for silence and not judge me for it. He will even understand when I expect him to be angry with me at the injustice of the situation. How can the inner-city crack whore have a baby but not me? How can Britney Spears have a baby but not me? Isn't he a God of justice? Shouldn't he rightfully be angry when injustice occurs? Shouldn't he rightfully do something about it? Yes, I expect him to someday fix this. Somehow. I do expect things of him. I do expect him to comfort me and make the situation bearable somehow. Is that so wrong?

Quote of the Year

Seriously? I sat there, dumbfounded, wondering if I had heard him correctly. Looking around the room it was clear no one else was having the same reaction as me. By the third time he said it, I was quite confident I had not misunderstood him. And so, for your edification and amusement, is the quote of the month:

"When you turn in your individual 2009 practice plan, make sure you include at least 1 or 2 of your failures from 2008 for consideration."

Just 1 or 2, not all of them. As if to say, there are so many I won't be picky about which one you give me. Nice, huh? This is from my practice group chair. And guess what? He's also the chair of our firm's mentoring committee. Oh yeah, we got a good one ladies and gentlemen. Jealous? Right in time for year-end evaluations, too. Somebody please shoot me to take me of my misery if I am stuck in this place next year at this time.