And then it all came crashing back...

It turns out that there are a handful of women from my school who have also dealt with infertility at some point. Once you join the club, you hear about who the other members are. Most of us ended up going to the same RE and, eventually, becoming pregnant.

But one of us didn't. We'll call her Nora. Up until this particular day, I don't know if Nora knew I was infertile and I don't know if she knew that I knew she was infertile.

It was a Friday morning. And it was a jeans day. That's a recipe for a good day for any teacher. Throw in a pay day and we actually click our heels in the hallways. I bumped into Nora as I signed in at the office and she stopped to ask what was on my necklace.

"It's a mother necklace. It has Ben's name on it," I happily answered without thinking at all. I love this necklace. I love wearing something that makes me feel like Ben is with me even when I am here and he is there.

"You're so lucky," she responded. Those three words...they were so much more than three little words. Four syllables that were just filled with distant pain, the kind that is stored in the back of your mind. I can't even explain her voice when she said it. Wistful is the closest I can come to capturing it.

"I know," was the only reply I could come up with. The conversation ended and we both continued on in our separate directions. I eventually ended up back in my classroom and I was a wreck. I didn't know what to do. All I could think of was all of those moments back before I got pregnant when someone's innocent comment would tear away at the infertile me. I needed to talk to her, to apologize for starting her day off like that, to let her know that I wasn't one of them, a fertile. I had to go tell her that I was sorry if the necklace had upset her. That was exactly what I would say. I am sorry if the necklace upset you.

I headed out the door towards Nora's classroom. Then I stopped about ten feet later. What happens after I say that? Where would this conversation go? I don't even think she knows that I know about her infertility. How will she react when I just throw it out there? After wrestling with these questions to no avail, I turned on my heels and headed back towards my class.

Crossing my room, I stopped again. What do I do? I turned back to go to Nora again and stopped again. What the hell? What is the right thing to do?

Finally, I decided I needed to go talk to her. I didn't know how the conversation would go or how she would react but I couldn't bear the thought of starting off her day the way I had without at least attempting to fix it. I ran into her in an empty hallway.

And I just blurted it all out. How I was sorry if the necklace had upset her and how I was infertile and how I didn't know what to say after she told me how lucky I was and I was just sorry. And I cried and I felt like an ass for that so then I apologized a lot for crying.

And she hugged me. And then she cried. And then I hugged her.

And then we moved on to the rest of our day. We chatted for a few minutes about our dysfunctional families and laughed about that. Eventually, we had to separate because we both had kids arriving shortly.

I thought a lot about that ten minutes of my life in the following days. I'm an infertility cheerleader. I've always been the one with the mindset that we all become mothers, some how, some way, we eventually find a way to the beautiful child that we are destined to hold and nuzzle and cherish. But Nora didn't. And she won't. I don't know why. It's none of my business why really. But I'm just so struck by the fact that some of us don't become moms, like it never even really occurred to me because I've always stayed in this positive, determined, focus-on-the-goal mindset when it comes to other infertiles.

Some of us don't become mothers.

And now that I am a mother, that's one of the most heartbreaking realizations I've ever had.

Where's hannah?

So, though I have thought about this often, I've yet to post about it.

Where does your infertility go once you have a baby? Does its bitterness continue to hover over you? Does it sit across the room from you, staring at you while your little one dozes on your chest? Or does it simply disappear?

For me, it was none of these. And I know this may sound cliche or overly dramatic, but I swear, I had an infertile-to-mommy transitional moment.

During Ben's first few days at home, I was grappling with my infertility. What do I do with this huge part of my identity that I've been carrying around for so long? What happens when the hand that has only known alcohol swabs and needles now is grasped by tiny yet perfect fingers? What happens once the infertile is a mommy?

And then one day, it was only Ben's third or fourth day home with me, I was standing over his swing, staring at him contently swaying. He was the most amazing creature I had ever seen and I couldn't believe he was mine. I could keep him. Nobody (the fertility police?) was going to show up and say there was a mix up and that I hadn't actually been pregnant. At least I was pretty sure that wouldn't happen. Half my brain knew that wouldn't happen but the other half still thought it was a pretty strong possibility.

I've spoken before about how my infertility, or Hannah, seemed to always be hovering over my shoulder, invading my brief moments of peace. I never felt completely alone to fully relax and let my guard down. Napping, studying, hot showers, private moments with my husband. They were all invaded by her presence. And now, standing there admiring my tiny son, this exquisite little being, I felt her there, literally just over my left shoulder and I again pondered how I'm supposed to reconcile these two very different pieces of this new me: infertile and mommy.


And then she stepped back. Into the shadows of my subconscious. She stepped back. And as she did, she whispered softly that though she wasn't going anywhere, she would let me just be a mommy for now.

I can't even begin to fully explain this moment. I physically felt her step into the background of my mind. It was strange. And powerful. And finally, after a long and difficult journey.....peaceful.

Caution: wide load

My baby weight is gone, as well as some of my just-husky-in-general weight and this pleases me. I will be the first to admit that I have done absolutely nothing to make this happen except nurse and so I make no effort to take any credit for this loss, but still, I'm happy it's gone.

However, my current body is quite different from my previous body. There's more jiggling involved. And a thicker middle. And my arms look their best ever. And my butt is gone. It's just flat and weird. So now most of my clothes fit differently and I'm working with the new me, adjusting to this similar but just different enough to make my old wardrobe tricky body.

I weigh myself a lot because it feels kinda good to see the number. It could be even lower but it's good. I admit the weighing frequency may be (definitely is) a bit compulsive. A few days ago, I learned that I should just stick to weighing myself and not get carried away.

Are you ready?

I tried on my bathing suit.

It was a really bad idea. Like one of my worst ones ever. Like when I thought it would be funny to let the cat play with a large piece of masking tape bad (in my defense, I just wasn't thinking).

I truly thought, I can't look that bad in a bathing suit, right?

WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! SO VERY VERY WRONG!

It was alarming and scary and wide.

forget-me-nots

I wrote this in Ben's first weeks and never got around to publishing it. Looking over it, I'm so glad I got some of these tidbits recorded because, already, he no longer does so many of them. He has moved on to new and just as beautiful little habits. How quickly he is changing and growing right before me.


There are so many things I don't want to forget about you, Ben, and our time together so far. You're growing and changing so fast. I can't even believe it. Here are some of the things I want to remember to tell you later...

• In the early weeks of nursing, you were so funny! You would push yourself back off my boob and growl at it! Then you'd pounce on it in true BabyJaguar style. You would do this over and over again while whipping your head from side to side. You looked like a wildcat hunting and attacking its prey and it was absolutely hysterical.


• You would make this adorable surprised face and hold it. You'd raise your little eyebrows and form your mouth into a perfect little 'O' and then just stare at me like that. Cutest thing ever.


• You are so loved.


• You have freakishly long nails and use them like weapons. They grow so fast and are really sharp! You claw at me when you're upset and I try to grin and bear it so I don't get you more upset by startling you.


• When you'd be up on my shoulder being burped, you'd try to nurse on my cheek. Now you prefer to mouth my (and everyone else's) neck or shoulder. It's really cute even though it's really wet.


• When you're tired (and nursing...do you see a theme?), you often cover your face and my boob up with your arm. Daddy throws his arm up over his face when he sleeps, too.


• When you're almost entirely asleep, you make these big smiles....all while still nursing.


• You have made my heart swell with love.


• You don't like having your back rubbed when you're eating. You arch your back to get away from the touch. But you like the back rubbing when you're up on my shoulder.


• I love when you give the side-eye. Sometimes you're in a position to look at me head on but you push your head off to the side and then side-eye me instead. It's really funny. That's another face that you hold for a few seconds for dramatic effect.


• In the beginning, I would stroke your hair to settle you (I love when people do that for me). Now I often catch you with your little hand up on your head doing it yourself. It makes me happy.


• I love having you beside me in the co-sleeper at night. Sometimes when you're already asleep, I fall asleep holding your hand.


• You are loved beyond words.

The holidays wrap up

Here we go....the holidays in pictures

First there was Halloween. I killed myself to get this costume for him. It was way expensive but I found it on Craig's List for cheap! Then, after agreeing to purchase it, I learned that it was an hour drive away. And yeah, I drove an hour one way. That was a total freak mom moment for me. A few weeks later, when Halloween rolled around, my husky little man had grown out of it! I had to squish him in a bit. See the ankle sticking out?

We hosted our first holiday! Thanksgiving was kinda crazy but really nice. MrJaguar was recovering from knee surgery but he cooked up his first turkey and stuffing. It was amazing.

My bunny turned seven months old but we had a bit of a hard time capturing the moment with a sign.

And then there was Christmas! It was so fun opening gifts with Ben. We actually had a white Christmas which is unheard of around here. We got nearly two feet of snow which is also unheard of around here.

He was shocked to find out that a fat man in the very same outfit as him would bring him toys!

He got a new hat!

And a wagon for rolling with his homies!

And he celebrated the new year with his mommy!

Truth be told, I have mixed emotions about moving into the new year. This is the year when I heard my son's first cry, when I stayed home to savor his first few months, when I discovered all the silly ways to make him laugh. And while I know this coming year will be filled with many new firsts, it's hard to let go of the old ones. This growing up at the speed of light thing has been hard on me.

The Notebook

It's full. The notebook is full. And I am sad.

Way back when, I received a gift from a friend and fellow infertile nestie, Stephanie. It was a notebook that she had taken the time to personalize and send to me with a thoughtful card. As I admired it, I wondered what I'd used it for and decided it would have to be for something special. I set it aside and waited for that special time to declare itself.

Finally, after a long summer of being stuck in the same cycle with doctor appointment after doctor appointment trying to kick my body into gear, I finally got the go ahead to start injectables. I decided the notebook would be the perfect place to keep track of my injections, the bloodwork and ultrasounds and anything else that seemed important.

Finally, after that cycle proved quite successful and I had carried my little one for forty weeks and one day, I used that notebook to record the times for my contractions before deciding to head off to the hospital. I even recorded the mundane details of those unforgettable hours like the fact that I insisted on unloading the dishwasher between contractions in an effort to keep my mind off the blinding pain that was wracking my body every three to four minutes. The notebook was tucked into my dufflebag for safekeeping. Later, as I focused on the challenges of labor and delivery, my husband and brother were given the task of recording the stats in the notebook.

The notebook really got going on Ben's very first day at home. It was initially intended to track his neverending breastfeedings and dirty diapers but it quickly grew into so much more. It became the place where I recorded all of his firsts; his first smile, his first laugh, his first coos. It became home to the copious notes of his milestones. It became my treasure chest of little thoughts for my Benja-Bean, telling him how grateful I am to have him in my life, the endless ways he amazes me and how he is the greatest gift I have ever received. The notebook became sacred.

And then I started realizing that it was running low on paper. I actually felt really anxious every time I noticed the dwindling supply.

Until, last month, when it was full. With a heavy heart, I closed it up, carefully tucked it away and walked downstairs to make this distressing announcement to my husband. Then, I went out to the store and bought a new notebook.

Bad Mommy

I have been such a slacker with pictures. It's not that I don't take them. I take lots. It's just that I don't do anything with them after I take them. So, in an effort to catch up, let's celebrate birthdays.

O months

The wobbly flailing phase

Got a decent pic later that night

Your camera bores me....

This is also the moment we realized he could sit up on his own without support! Surprise!

This pic had to be taken a billion times. He was all over the place! Also, he loves Sock Monkey so it was hard to get a shot of either one of them sitting still.

His seven month birthday is in just a few days...let's see if I can get my act together and post the pic in a timely fashion.