Not everyone gets a happy ending in the fertility game. I didn’t. I was saddened this week to read about a couple of bloggers (also without happy endings) who are considering shutting down their sites. Saddened not only because I will miss their voices but also because it means there are a couple fewer voices who are saying, “life goes on” -- proof that there is life after infertility. There are those bloggers like Statia who’ve been around for a long time and are writing about their struggles with infertility (among other things) right now, who will probably continue to blog no matter what the outcome of that pursuit is. My original blog was IF-centric, so when I made that turn in the road I decided to start a new blog. But I didn’t disappear, I still have things to say and I hope I am contributing somehow, that I have a perspective that is mostly missing from the blogosphere.
I’m not defined by my childlessness any more than a mother is defined by that role alone. All of the things on my list have contributed to who I am today, shaped me, influenced me. I also have a list of accomplishments and talents, yet I give more weight to the negatives than the positives. Maybe that’s just my nature, or maybe that’s just the nature of people who’ve been through a bunch of shit. I’m not judging anyone who decides to stop blogging – it’s a very personal yet a very public forum and we are all privileged to be invited to share another’s experiences and thoughts.
I’ve been thinking about infertility in the animal kingdom lately. I am seeing young does with tiny spotted fawns in my neighborhood, and I wonder if there are deer who can’t conceive. My friend’s mare was recently inseminated using frozen sperm after a fresh IUI cycle failed. I asked Willow what the success rates are for horses, naturally and using ART, and she didn’t know. They haven’t done much of that kind of work at this farm. I do know that it’s expensive and big business. I saw a TV show once that showed a prize mare being inseminated with a prize stallion's sperm. The mare conceived, but they only allowed the embryo to grow for a certain period of time before they flushed it out of the mare (in a sort of enema procedure) to be implanted into a surrogate mare for the remainder of the gestation. Apparently pregnancy and childbirth were too dangerous to allow the prize mare to carry her own foal.
There’s a gelding at the farm who is an orphan, his mother died in childbirth. He’s bad-tempered, ill-mannered and has to be kept segregated because he bites, both horses and humans. Willow said every orphan she’s ever seen is like this…they don’t bond with other horses or their trainers if they lose their mother, and it takes a long time to turn them into a horse that is safe to be around, or maybe to ride eventually. Interesting.
I’m rambling a bit today. I’ll leave you with another list of band names, just because.
Casiotone for the Painfully Alone
Vancougar (an all-girl punk band from my home town!)
Apostle of Hustle
Rancid Hell Spawn
Kleenex Girl Wonder
The Redneck Manifesto
And finally, my favorite of this group: Leftover Crack
P.S. Thanks for the birthday wishes. I lied in my last post, my birthday was this week, not next week, Thursday in fact, the first full day of summer. D got me my own riding helmet so I don’t have to use the old nasty ones at the farm. He’s so sweet and supportive. And how was your week?