Out of Control

I think a lot of what is so difficult about infertility is the lack of control. I decided where I wanted to go to college, where I wanted to live and work when I graduated, that I wanted to go to graduate school and where and when I would go, and who I wanted to marry. I've decided where to work, play and live. When I decide I want to do something, I make it happen (well, okay, I don't look like Heidi Klum yet, but I've decided to work on making myself accept that).

I studied like crazy for the LSATs and got myself into a good law school. I decided I wanted to make some money and work at a big law firm, and I worked hard to get interviews and to get offers out of those interviews.

At each stage of my life, for the most part, I've had control. I guess I would have liked to have met The One a little earlier in life, but in retrospect, why? I was having a great time with my single friends, travelling, studying, exploring, enjoying. I wouldn't trade it for anything, even now that I have lost control over something I really, really want.

I think at some point, evolution will catch up, and instead of having 15 year olds get pregnant by breathing the same air space as a boy, our bodies will adapt to accommodate the reality that a 35 or 40 year old woman is much, much better equipped to become a mother than a 16 or even 22 year old woman is. I mean, people used to have a life expectancy of about 50, and so everyone was married by 17 because you were elderly in your 30s.

I saw Idiocracy this weekend - the premise of which is that in 2500 the earth is populated by the lowest common denominator (to put it nicely) because all of us smart yuppie types waited too long to have children and were infertile by the time we got around to it (nice, huh?) while the uneducated intellectual lottery-losers had 12 kids by the time they were 20. It was sort of insulting (the rest of the movie was funny in a stupid way - it's a good time waster) but made me think that at some point, our bodies will evolve.

In the mean time, I can't control the fact that I'm 37, or that I didn't meet anyone worthy of marrying until I was well into my 30s. But in the last three weeks, I've done a lot of things to take as much control as I can, and it's made me feel 90% better (there's still at least 10% of me that is miserable and actually glared at a woman with three kids under 5 yesterday - three! Three!!! I only want one, God. Really!).

My husband mentioned that coming home has been a pleasure (which made me feel good and awful too - imagine if staying at work was preferable to coming home to your psycho wife) since I started the Domar Center's programs.

Here is what I have done, and so far, it's made a huge difference:

I changed doctors and hospitals. Why should I slog through heinous traffic to find no parking to be sat in a waiting room with pregnant women for 2 hours to see a taciturn and mean doctor who treated me like a lab rat? No, thank you. I looked for a program with both body (excellent doctors and facilities) and mind (the belief and services to support the belief that you need emotional help with this, too) programs.

I started a Mind/Body program, which has weekly meetings and "homework" - which includes guided meditation (something I have never been able to do without laughing or falling asleep and have frankly never really believed in) and a great book by Alice Domar. The CDs and the book are available to anyone - go to bostonivf.com and follow links for the Domar Center.

I started acupuncture. So far, no miracles, but I like it. I thought I'd hate it - but the needles are the size of a strand of hair, and the acupuncturists are so professional but warm and nice that i look forward to it.

I started yoga. So far, only one class, but it's nice to be doing something that is 100% for ME and which is working my body without the goal of getting it skinnier.

I started sleeping again (okay, I still fall asleep to the meditation CD, but hey, it's much better than not sleeping at all or waking up at 4 a.m.).

I cut myself some slack. Don't feel like going to that thing because I know there will be babies or annoying friends of my parents who will ask annoying questions? Good. I'm not going. Laundry piling up? So what? Who suffers? Me because I have to wear that ugly orange top? So I'll wear an ugly orange top that I should have given away a year (okay, five) ago. Look at what my coworkers wear. That orange top is pretty nice when I think about it that way.

All of these things have helped me to feel more in control in a time when I have not much control over the "no one knows" answer to my question: Why can't I get pregnant? and I recommend them - or any method - that makes you feel calmer, less worn out, and less crazy.

- L.