To Everything There is a Season

This time of year once filled my heart with dread. I knew there would be no hiding from the onslaught of reminders about what wasn’t happening in our house.

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

It would begin slowly with the back-to-school ads complete with adorable moppet headed children modeling new outfits. It would pick up momentum in October with the rush of Halloween-themed media showcasing mini pirates and ballerinas before sending me into a blue funk around Thanksgiving. It was knowing that just around the corner the mother of all holiday seasons was about to begin culminating with Christmas celebrations of children dancing around the mall in anticipation of Santa’s arrival.

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

How could I possibly steel myself, I’d once wondered. In time, as with any situation where the choice is to succumb to sadness or fight the good fight, I developed coping skills. Acknowleding the inevitability of the calendar was the first way to prepare. I would purposefully avoid all of the circulars tucked into the newspapers. With the advent of TIVO I was no longer subjected to TV commercials, and with the power of the Internet I organized my holiday shopping online.

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

This time of year took on a greater significance a while back when Mr. Pamela Jeanne and I conferred with our research hospital RE clinic to schedule our last frozen embryo transfer. Between the hospital schedule and my cycle, the transfer coincided with the week before Thanksgiving. We had originally planned to host a set of cousins and their kids coming to town from Virginia. With a mixture of sheepishness and hope we called them in early October to withdraw our offer to host the turkey dinner extravaganza. They didn’t know we had been undergoing ART.  I was reluctant to divulge our plans but we had no choice. It would be too much work during the prescribed 2ww quiet period. They were surprised but conveyed deep and kind understanding. They wanted to know if there was anything they could do to help.  As we all know, the only outside help where ART is involved is prayer and good wishes.

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

It was the quietest Thanksgiving ever for us.  Just the two of us cuddled up on the sofa hoping for a good outcome. It was not to be…

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear its not too late

Today we are a little family, a tribe of two, as I told Katie on her recent reflective blog post concerning family. Made stronger from all we’ve experienced we keep each other balanced. Now, as the calendar reveals the coming autumn season, I view the waves of child-centric events that take us through the end of the year simply as one more set of challenges to be met.

Turn, Turn, Turn

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I’d like to take a moment to thank Kami and Jenna for each selecting me to receive a Rockin’ Girl Blogger award. I’m honored as I have the greatest respect for them both.  In turn, I’m to choose five others whose blogs rock. As with any of these recognitions many have already been singled out. I second those nominations, and while I could easily pick more than five, here are my picks:

McHope, one of the newest bloggers who writes The Infertility Monster,
has a terrific post on the pregnant community’s conspiracy to convene
around an unsuspecting infertile. (Confession: I once thought I had a
wireless device that pre-announced my arrival whenever three of more
pregnant women surrounded me…)

Deathstar, who is in the process of homestudy in preparation for adoption, brings a mix of thoughtful pragmatism and humor to her posts.

Bumble, whose blog is now password protected. I’m happy to report she is 18 weeks along and feeling happier than she’s felt in a very long time. She was the first ever to comment on my blog and welcome me to this diverse and supportive community.

MLO who fights infertility ignorance with rational arguments. She also writes amazing book reviews and covers a variety of other subjects.

Sharah of Outlandish Notions who writes eloquently about the process of wrestling a set of conflicting emotions caused by what else? That beast: Infertility.