I’m watching the cursor blink over and over in my text entry field. I pause to begin typing, because I know with each word, it brings me another word closer to end of this last post here.
And then I remember that every word brings me another word closer to a new beginning at The Infertility Voice.
. . .
It’s a strange virtual precipice, to look back across the expanse of over a million words I’ve written over the past 2 years, 11 months, and 3 days. The Infertility Voice is hardly a blank canvas – all of these words will be coming right over there with me on Monday. But they exist within a newer, different context.
It’s like when you move: sure, you take all your stuff with you. But everything looks a little different when you see it laid out in your new place.
I hate moving. We’ve done it so much in the past 3 years that when we moved into our house (and after the nightmare that was our closing) I told my husband there is no way in hell we’re moving for at least another 5-7 years.
Well, let me be totally honest: it’s not so much that I have moving – I hate packing. Okay, well, that’s complicated too, because I love a good purge of accumulated junk. But like when we moved out of student housing and into our home, I waxed nostalgic then too, as I wrapped up the trappings of early married life and packed them away in boxes. Like I said back in 2010: “There’s a lot more than just pots, pans, and books packed into these boxes.”
There’s a lot more than just words and code stored on servers here at Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed.
. . .
Before my video went viral, I had 29 Google Friend Connect followers of this blog, when I was still over at Blogger. I have no idea how many people follow this blog currently, since WordPress doesn’t have Google Friend Connect, but since I track analytics, I know that it’s a lot more than 29 people coming around here on a regular basis.
I ask myself all the time why people come back to read what I have to write. What makes people care?
Is it the intimate details of my infertility journey, my marriage, my life and my work? Is it the cobbled together website design over the years? Is it my humor and snark?
Or is it even the community that’s been created by interacting with each one of you, through comments and follow up posts and whatnot?
I’m not sure what it is, but it’s meant a lot to me to know that people care about what I have to say. I’m still humbled by it, every single day, that people come to this site from all over – a link on someone else’s blog, from my video or Facebook page, or just from organic Google searches – and then stay to read.
It really does mean a lot to me. And as I write this last post, just like when I move to a new place, I fear that I’ll leave something – or someone – behind.
. . .
I did not cope well for the first six months I moved to Massachusetts. We didn’t really know anyone, I was stuck in a miserable job, I was terrified of driving around here (there’s a reason MA drivers are called massholes) and I just hated how big of a change it was in my life. I missed Maryland. I told my husband I wanted to move back.
He asked me what I really missed. “Do you miss Maryland or do you miss our friends?”
I realized he was right; that I didn’t miss living next to an IKEA (ok, no – I really do miss living next to the IKEA) but that I missed the tight group of friends we had built up the three years we lived there. These same friends have now scattered to the four winds around the country and even internationally; even if we moved back, it would never be the same because they weren’t there anymore.
When I had that realization, I started finally warming up to Massachusetts.
Now? When somebody asks me where I’m from, I often mistakenly reply “Massachusetts.” Then I correct myself. “I’m from New Jersey, originally,” I say. That’s how deeply rooted I am to this state. I love it here. If we ever do move again, it better be within this state.
I may not have loved it at first, but Massachusetts is my home now.
I’m just as nervous about moving to The Infertility Voice as I am excited by it. I’m nervous that I’m leaving folks behind here, leaving a distinct community I helped shape behind. I know some of you won’t follow me and I get that.
But I’m so fucking excited about moving too. Because even though the community and focus might be a little different, The Infertility Voice finally taps into the work that I’m meant to do in this life. Why wouldn’t I be excited by that?
And I don’t expect it’ll be that different really: a lovely new design, reaching out to even bigger audiences, and more resources and support. It’s the same bowl of ice cream, just a different flavor AND a cherry on top. Again, what’s not to be excited about?
. . .
Maybe it’s knowing that this last post at Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed is the end of a chapter.
I promise you: the story is nowhere near finished. The next chapter starts this Monday.
You can help me feel better about the move by updating your RSS feeds to add this one: http://feeds.feedburner.com/TheInfertilityVoice. Or by liking my new Facebook page here. Or just letting me know in the comments if you’re coming along on Monday.
. . .
The truck engine revs in the driveway. Someone honks a horn. “C’mon, already, geez!”
I guess it’s time to go. I walk around, taking one last look around the old place, my footfalls echoing in the now empty rooms.
I can’t help but cry. I’m going to miss this place, this blog, this amazing space I’ve created with you over the last three years.
I know I’m leaving a little bit of my heart here.
And I can’t wait to show you the new place.
. . .
The Infertility Voice launches this Monday, March 5, 2012 at 8am Eastern Standard Time.
. . .
Finish writing my last post here.
Save draft. Review. Hold my breath.
Hit “Publish.”
…And here we go.
Somewhere, in another universe, I never switched majors in college. I finished my teaching and vocal performance degrees, graduating with honors and taught high school music. I would sing in regional professional choirs. Maybe I’d even teach students private voice lessons.
Instead, I became a communications major.
It’s the Leap Year, the day that only comes once every four years. It’s the first (and only) Leap Year on my blog. So I thought I’d do something you only really ever see about every four years from me.
I’d like to sing for you.
I don’t regret switching majors – I probably would have been miserable trying to juggle either a teaching or performance career or both at the same time. And I know for a fact I don’t have the wherewithal to survive the classical performance industry. But I do wonder what Bizarro Keiko must be up to in her alternate universe, canary-ing away…
So for this Leap Year, allow me to indulge my inner soprano. Nothin’ fancy pants about this video – just me and my webcam, and a whole belly full of song.
Enjoy.
It’s the 6th Annual Limerick Chick Contest over at Lori’s Write Mind, Open Heart. Quite simply, in the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day, it’s a limerick writing contest that celebrates the wonderful folks of the blogosphere! Seeing as how Mel has included me in her entry (sneaky sneaky what she did there), I thought I should pay it forward and celebrate a fellow blogger who I truly admire and respect.
I present to you my inaugural Limerick Chick post…
Guess Who?
Who’s the gangsta who makes blogging foxy?
This rockstar who knocks off my socks, see -
she’s a Smart One (with sass)
who takes names and kicks ass;
she’s The Smartness: JW Moxie!
JW Moxie totally rocks my socks. That girl has greatness in her – I just know it 
Interested in throwing your poetic license into the ring? You have until midnight EST on Wednesday, February 29th to enter yours! Get all the info here and check out the other entries!
I’m thrilled to announce that I’ll be a part of Sarah Holland’s Fertility Focus Telesummit 2012!
You can hear me on Saturday, March 17th at 4pm EST. Then stay tuned at 5pm to hear Leah from Single Infertile Female and at 6pm to hear Jessica from Too Many Fish to Fry! It’s going to be a great evening of insightful tips and some in depth conversations about living with infertility, our journeys so far and how we blog it all out.
The Fertility Focus Telesummit goes from March 12-18, 2012. I am really excited and honored to one of three featured bloggers. This is Sarah’s third year of putting on the Telesummit and last year she had over 4,000 people attend!
Fertility Focus Telesummit Quick Info
- 6 Day Virtual Conference.
- 10 Fertility Experts.
- 3 Bloggers.
- An amazing amount of information.
- Free to listen live.
Yes, you read that correctly. You can listen live for free. So, definitely put down March 17th from 4-7pm on your calendar to hear me, Leah add Jessica live. To get all the details and to sign up, register with your name and email address at the Telesummit website.
I’m signing up today because I really want to check out these five sessions:
- Michael Dooley on An Integrated Approach to Fertility Management
- Dr. Marilyn Glenville on Fertility Facts: Using An Integrated Approach With Conventional And Nutritional Medicine
- Anya Sizer on Reducing Stress and Supporting Yourself Through Infertility
- Emma Cannon on The Role of Acupuncture in Optimizing Fertility within the Menstrual Cycle and Supporting IVF
- Sarah Holland on EFT for Fertility
What’s great is that when I sign up, I get access and details for the other five expert sessions too. It’s nice to have that option to register for all 10 expert sessions plus the 3 blogger interviews but pick and choose what I want to listen to dependent on my fertility journey needs and schedule that week.
Also, how awesome is it that all you need is a computer and speakers? Hooray for virtual fertility conferences!
So who’s headed to the Fertility Focus Telesummit? Let me know in the comments and register today!
Firstly, let me clarify about my last post: I’m not leaving you all forever, just moving. Are we cool? Cool. Hope you’ll follow me to the new digs.
Right so… A short post today just to say that my life? A bit of a blur lately.
Here’s how my my life has been pretty much on any given day the last couple of weeks:
8am(ish)
Wake up, shockingly refreshed and well-rested. Shower and make some kind of breakfast. This often involves a cup of tea and a bowl of Greek yogurt. Check email on phone. Did the world explode while I was asleep? No? Good, let’s get on with the day.
8:30am
Quick review of Twitter and Facebook. Anything major happening in the world overnight? No? Good. Time to get to work.
9am – 2pm
Work like a mofo. Remember to hydrate. Stuff I’ve been doing:
- Writing proposals for various writing gigs/social media projects
- Sending out more emails than one girl ever should in a 4 hour period
- Maintaining the RESOLVE New England website
- Writing email newsletters & blog posts
- Drafting multiple editorial calendars for multiple websites
- Futzing around with CSS coding I have no business playing with
- Hunting for stock imagery (preferably free) to accompany content creation
- Scouring RSS feeds for relevant content to post on various social media platforms
- Drafting a book proposal
- Writing, editing and formatting 4 eBooks
- Playing with WordPress plugins to figure out how they work and which one will work best
- Registering for conferences like BlogHer Entrepreneurs in March
- Getting interviewed – twice
- Building a media kit for myself
- Actually pinning physical clips and inspiration to a for reals pin/vision board and no, I have not yet jumped on the Pinterest bandwagon yet for a variety of reasons
- Writing exclusively in html code like it ain’t no thang, b/c I can admit now, that yes, it ain’t no thang
1pm
Pop handful of horse pill-sized vitamins, including: 600mg of calcium, 1400mg of fish oil with 1000mg of omega-3, 400mcg of folic acid, and a women’s multivitamin. Try to stifle the fish burps as much as possible throughout the day. Daily cravings of salmon have increased tenfold.
2pm
Lunch! Try to go for something healthy as much as possible, balancing out proteins and veggies. If I go protein/carb heavy for lunch, I push veggies and greens for dinner, and vice versa. Past lunches have included: Italian-style eggs in a basket, chili-lime marinated and grilled shrimp with grilled pineapple, salad with blue cheese, apples, walnuts and sesame dressing, English muffin pizzas, and cheese, cornichons, sausage and cracker plates.
3-6pm
Continue the work begun in the 9am-2pm block.
6-7pm(ish)
Go to the gym. Either spend a half-hour doing cardio or attend a yoga class upwards of 90 minutes long. Sweat. Get moving. Hydrate. Feel awesome.
7-9pm(ish)
This varies with the night. Sometimes we have dinner during this block. Sometimes I’m leading a peer support group or attending a networking event. Sometimes I play Skyrim. Sometimes I sit on the couch and watch old episodes of Castle. It varies day by day.
9pm-12am (or later)
Continue work from the 3-6pm block OR play Skyrim. More often than not? Working.
12am – 8am
Sweet, blessed sleep.
Lather, rinse, repeat daily.
Things I Have Not Seen in About 10 Days:
- The outside world beyond the gym, the grocery store and the gas station.
- The news.
- Friends.
- A movie.
- My husband. (Just kidding, but we’ve both been super busy).
And this is just the reader’s digest version of my life as of late. I feel completely and totally disconnected from the world and blogosphere at large lately.
What have I missed? What’s going on? What’s your big news, your mundane news, your not news at all but I want to tell you about this anyway?
Fill me in on the comments. Link up to appropriate posts. Give me the skinny on what’s been happening for you lately.
So how exactly did this all happen?
And more importantly, why on earth would I write about this on the web to share with millions of strangers?
{March 30, 2009.}
These were the first two sentences I wrote on my blog, nearly 3 years ago, in a post titled “More Than You Ever Needed to Know About Me.” It’s funny. They’re valid questions, one that many infertility bloggers face.
Why would we put all of this information out in such detail, out there for the world to see?
When I started this blog in 2009, blogging was such a foreign concept to me even though I’d been LiveJournaling for years. While I kept this blog anonymous for a year, there were plenty of friends and family who read my blog in the early days. But in the wake of learning at age 26 that my eggs were virtually dust, I felt compelled to write.
And write I have.
But today, I want to take a look back at the blog post that started it all.
In the Beginning
My very first post on this blog has no comments. I’m sure it’s due to the total lack of dedicated readership at that point and perhaps because of its content. I spend a little over 1200 words giving readers the oh-so-detailed story of my reproductive system from my first period to my infertility diagnosis:
But my whole story starts well before last September; in fact, it begins on May 21, 1992. I am 9 years old, and it is 4 days before my 10th birthday. It’s a Saturday (yes, I still remember this) and I got my first period.
I began my blog just a couple of weeks after I was diagnosed with premature ovarian failure and for me, I was still very much in the mindset of “how did this happen?” so that tracing my entire reproductive history was an important first step in establishing just how the hell my lady bits got so fakakta.
Even then, just twelve days after being told that no, you can’t have children, I felt compelled to share my story:
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the short time since my diagnosis, it’s that hearing other women’s stories, other voices, is so comforting, supportive, and helpful. My hope is that my story might help other women, other couples struggling with infertility and their family and friends.
It’s funny to me now to go back and reread my first blog post, only to see how this believe – only my third paragraph in to my blog – has become central to not only who I am, but to the work that I seek to do in this world.
It’s this guiding belief – that our infertility stories matter – that has led me to create The Infertility Voice.
Coming Full Circle
It’s been almost three years since I began this blog and a lot has happened in my life. We bought a house, we lost jobs, we quit jobs, we got new jobs, we traveled, we lost family members, we gained family members – not necessarily in that order. But it’s been an incredibly busy three years for Team Zoll. And we were worried there for a little while, in the early days of 2009 after I was diagnosed as infertile and a week later, my husband got laid off from his job.
With each word, I’ve written myself closer and closer to the future I want to make for myself. That’s the incredible power of writing; I said this to a friend on Twitter yesterday:
Writing brings you one step closer, word by word, to whatever your imagination wants to create.
For me, the future I’d love to see – and help create – is one where infertility is free from shame, stigma, and cultural silencing. It’s unfortunate that I have to have infertility in the first place, but it’s this confluence of diagnosis and self-discovery that’s put me on this path.
It’s a path that exists because of this blog, and by extension – because of every single person who reads and comments here.
All Good Things…
Everything has to end at some point, right? There are few infinite things in our Universe and I knew full well that my blog would not be one of them.
So even after all my lovely redesigning and the arduous move from Blogger to self-hosted WordPress this summer, it’s coming time to close up shop around here.
On March 5, 2012, Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed will close.*
What’s Next for My Blog
All of my blogging will be done over at my new digs, The Infertility Voice. So, update your readers now (new RSS feed here) and make sure you go like the new Facebook page (because yes, that’s moving too).
And while you’re waiting for The Infertility Voice to launch on March 5, you sign up for nifty email updates here. I’ve sent out 2 already and they’ve had special goodies for early adopters.
I know change sucks. We all hate change. But it’s for the better – I promise! And my blog at The Infertility Voice is just the tip of the iceberg. Like I said – those email updates? Sign up for ‘em so you can get all the sneaky peeks before I go live on March 5th.
*It won’t necessarily disappear from the internet. I’ll have the domain forward from hannahweptsarahlaughed.com to TheInfertilityVoice.com; also, I’m migrating all of my posts from here to the new place, so you can still find all of my content from the past 3 years.
It’s amazing to look back on that very first post and realize that ultimately, it’s guided me to where I am today:
“…why on earth would I write about this on the web to share with millions of strangers?”
Answer: Because infertility stories matter.
And so does yours.
Because we need to tell those stories, advocate for awareness and facilitate a culture of compassion.
I hope you’ll join me in this work at The Infertility Voice.
This post is part of the Time Warp Tuesday Blog Hop hosted by Kathy at Four of a Kind. Swing by her blog today to see who else is participating and join in the fun for next Tuesday.
100 days from now, I’ll turn 30.
Realizing this has left me a little contemplative about growing up, aging, expectations and mortality. It’s not all doom and gloom, but as I let my thoughts wander on these subjects, I’m struck at the diversity of my opinions and experiences on the whole matter.
I’m turning 30. What’s the big whoop, right?
I’m not really sure. And while I know that I feel very strongly about this upcoming milestone in my life, I’m not really sure what exactly I feel. So let me give you a peek at what’s been going through my head the last few days.
I have had exactly 2 grey hairs.
One discovered many months ago in the bathroom at work: a single silver thread sticking straight up from the crown of my head. Its silvery glimmer in the fluorescent lighting is what caught my eye. I pulled it out and looked at it for a long time before washing it down the sink.
The second was found just two weeks ago by my husband while we were Skyping with my parents. He took particular satisfaction in both finding and plucking it, as he’s had a smattering of grey for years now (that I constantly rag on him about). I had missed this one, hiding on the back of my head.
I have found these two singular grey hairs to be like some mutant growth on my body. They repulse me and I hope I don’t have to see them again for another 30 years or more.
The Asian Aging Process
I’m half-Japanese. My grandmother (father’s mother) is 94? 95? I’ve lost count. Anywho, she’s up there and yes, has a head of ghost-white hair. She also rides her bike several miles everyday and plays croquet every morning for 2-3 hours with her buddies (and having seen this when we went to Japan, it’s adorable). This woman is still kicking ass and taking names like she’s 25.
But this totally happens:
Source: Emiko Sawanobori
For me, this gets complicated. Because that big MENOPAUSE! burst? Slip that in between age 20-30 and 30-50. Hopefully I don’t look like the age 60-70 panel.
Sometimes I feel like it though. Hearing my knees crack and creak in yoga class doesn’t make me feel good about myself. Nor does the fact that I need to take calcium supplements and hormones to keep me feelin’ fit and fine.
Or otherwise I might start to shrivel up and start looking like the 120 year old.
“You’re not old enough yet.”
Growing up with a sister 8 years my senior lead to some interesting fights with my parents growing up.
Me: “Why can’t I stay out late? Yuko does!”
My parents: “You’re not old enough yet.”
Me: “Why can’t I go out to the movies by myself? Yuko does!”
My parents: “You’re not old enough yet.”
Me: “How come Yuko gets to [insert teenage activity here] but I don’t?”
My parents: “You’re not old enough yet.”
You get the idea.
So when I turned 18 I felt like I was such hot shit struttin’ around because hey, I’m finally old enough to do stuff now. When I turned 21, hell yes I was going to Atlantic City for my first (legal) drink and to gamble at the casinos.
When I turned 25, I was excited I could rent a car. It stops being fun after 25.
It’s like, I’m 30! That means I get to…
…pay my mortgage? File my taxes? Get my car inspected?
Pretty lame all around.
“You’re so young.”
When I told people I had premature ovarian failure at 26, I would get the whole, “Wow, you’re so young” routine. Let’s face facts here: anything less than 42 is young it comes to POF. And then when we tell them we’re going to pursue IVF with donor eggs, I get the “Well, it’s good you’re so young” comment.
I don’t feel young at all. And what does that comment even mean? Like I’ve got time on my side to have children?
Because time is not a factor once you’ve been hit with the POF hammer. In fact, the doctor who diagnosed me said we could take our time building our family since donor egg and/or adoption were our only options. The only reason we’ve taken our time is because having babies through ART ain’t cheap.
If I could have had a child at 26, I would have.
There are plenty of women my age – and younger – who already have a child. Who might even have, oh, I dunno, 4 already? I can think of at least one person younger than me with 4 children. There’s nothing like getting lapped four times by someone a year younger than you.
100 days and counting.
100 days, 100 opportunities. 100 chances to do all the stuff I always said I wanted to do in my twenties.
Go to college: check.
Get a job: check.
Get married: check.
Get a house: check.
Have a family:
…
…
Right. About that.
I’ve said before how I thought we’d be parents by now and that I have this weird thing where I really wanted to parent before I was 30.
So unless through some science-fiction miracle I can conceive, gestate, and birth a child in the next 100 days, that’s simply not happening.
Reading back through this post, its sounds like I’m facing a little disappointment going into my thirties. Maybe a little. But I’ve also got a lot to celebrate that I’ve managed to accomplish in my twenties.
As for the rest of these little vignettes… I’m still unpacking all of that emotionally.
…All while I search my scalp in the mirror, frantic with paranoia as I keep a lookout for any more stray greys, watching the calendar page flip another day closer until I turn 30.
I’ve Moved!
Awesomesauce (Things That Are Awesome)
