... when sperm and egg stubbornly remain apart

 

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Saturday, May 3, 2014

Mother's Day: Still the mother of them all.

It's never too late to celebrate

NATIONAL INFERTILITY SURVIVAL DAY®

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Breakfast in bed

Spa Day

Mani-pedi

Facial

Massage

Makeover

Sunday Brunch

Roses

Romantic dinner

Weekend getaway

Girls' day out

Girls' night out

Chocolates

Champagne/Mimosas

Shopping spree

Another idea

Redeemable: Husbands, best friends, dear friends, sisters, moms, mothers-in-law, any good listeners with demonstrated empathy and encouragement!

 

9:49 am edt          Comments

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

People often ask me what kind of event I’m having or planning to have for NATIONAL INFERTILITY SURVIVAL DAY® each year. The answer varies. There have been years when I’ve teamed up with infertility specialists, other authors and health care professionals to offer advice and encouragement to hundreds of people at a time. There have been times when I’ve joined with local vendors to raffle off gifts to those who need a lift. There have been book signings and giveaways.

But the truth is, NATIONAL INFERTILITY SURVIVAL DAY®, which celebrates its first decade next year, is more conceptual than it is event-driven, although it can be that, too.

Like a happening.
Like a Yoko Ono for infertile families. Not the Yoko who in the eyes of some, (still after all these years), is the chick who messed up The Beatles. No. The Yoko who self-published a conceptually compelling book — Grapefruit for those who don’t know — available on Amazon.com (4.5 stars as of this writing). Who, like it or not, made people think differently about all kinds of things. 

Think differently about infertility. Think differently about adoption.

Think differently about what might be by this time next year.

How would you like to celebrate possibilities on May 4, 2014?

 

11:43 am edt          Comments

Tuesday, July 2, 2013


Sunday, May 4, 2014

Save the date to save your sanity.

NATIONAL INFERTILITY SURVIVAL DAY®

Is coming for you.

Start smiling now. And start spreading the news.

Each year, more and more people learn about this special day. Help share the power of NATIONAL INFERTILITY SURVIVAL DAY by telling a friend!

12:43 pm edt          Comments

Saturday, May 4, 2013

 

It's tomorrow!
Sunday, May 5, 2013

Have you had enough? Mother’s Day is nigh. And I am sick of hearing about it. Not that I would reject a few flowers, some perfume and lots of love. It’s just that every year around this time, I’m reminded of the dark days before I had a daughter. My daughter. The most remarkable girl in the world. The daughter of dreams. This year, National Infertility Survival Day is tomorrow, Cinco De Mayo – May 5, 2013. For those who seek support and sisterhood. For those who don’t know how to comfort a significant other. The sky, as they say, is the limit. Show a little love and a lot of sensitivity. Boost her spirits and spend a few duckets. Sunday the 12th might be nigh, but it ain’t the end of the world or the last word. And don’t forget Cinco De Mayo. See, we don’t need an excuse to celebrate. Only hope and happiness. Cheers. Salud! To you cheries.

 

 

 

2:33 pm edt          Comments

Saturday, September 8, 2012

The constant battle for the ultimate state of control

“So, next time you see a pregnant woman, kick back and have a martini. With extra olives. Sashay by with the best body you can muster in the highest heels you can navigate. Wax buff with a Brazilian bikini wax. Let’s see her get into that position…”

Infertility Sucks! Keeping it all together when sperm and egg stubbornly remain apart, page 20.

I wrote that more than 10 years ago. It still helps. It’s a state of mind that says, things are broken. But I am not.

Alas, shoes and martinis and bikinis can be bought. Not so for the kind of body that one wants to sashay and display.  

It’s not just about looking good. A healthy, supple body can also be a more fertile body.

This weighty matter has been another struggle for me and many others, one that I now realize has gone on way too long — since I was a teen, always fighting to be teeny-tiny.

I have always thought that there’s no time for fussing and fighting my friend. And yet I’ve been fighting myself for years. It’s asinine and it’s over. I’m over it.

I’m having fun with it now. I find it interesting and even amusing how our environment tries to lure us into eating and drinking stuff. The way restaurants show pictures of food — pictures taken with the care of a wedding photographer; the way certain ice cream shops create a scent so pleasing as to cause passersby to salivate like Pavlov’s dog. (It’s not always only about The Beatles. Just usually.)

I have taken it upon myself to turn these ploys upside down and inside out. So, here’s an erstwhile eight-inch pizza that at one time, only briefly, had the snake-like power to tempt:

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No more.

Here’s a recipe that will enable you to have your ‘za and eat it too. No guilt. Just yummy.

½ piece of Flatout Flatbread (I like the Light Italian Herb.)

Coat lightly with Walden Farms Tomato & Basil Pasta Sauce

Sprinkle with one stick or one slice of 2% cheese

Cover with six pieces of turkey sausage

Heat in microwave oven for about a minute.

Season to your liking.

Fend off the rest of the family or make enough for all.

Now, for that maritini… those olives. Oh, yeah, and the shoes. Always the shoes. 
 

10:04 am edt          Comments

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Of drags and dragonflies
So much change. And most all of it good. A big move has us back in our chosen home, South Florida, for the first time in eight years. Back to friends, family, food and the beach.

And for me, back to the bike. For many reasons, none of them interesting to anyone who’s not an avid biker, I was not able to ride (happily, at least) in Orlando or in Tampa.

What a huge loss. I now realize how much I’ve missed it. Sometimes, we’re so busy making do that we neglect to record our sacrifices.

Now I see, though. Biking is life for me. I love it. I love that my body can be moving me over the road while my mind is moving me where it will go. Fixing holes. Wandering. Writing.

The highlight of this morning’s ride was the dragonfly that hovered over the sidewalk in front of me as I wondered how to avoid riding into it. I slowed, slowly. And when we were close enough to touch, the dragonfly glided left, hovered higher, a show of mutual respect, insect and Homo sapien, woman and machine, the silky morning air our shared delight.

It’s moments like these that can keep me riding for 20 miles at a time, when time permits. Fourteen years ago, I was on just such a ride when my third (and last — I can take a hint) miscarriage brought me face to face with a reality that, unlike that kind and wise dragonfly, would not yield.

Pregnancy and me, childbirth and me, were not meant to be. It was a few years in the making, but I finally figured it all out, went to China and emerged beyond victorious.

It was about a decade later that I heard a doctor at a National Infertility Survival Day® event deliver a presentation on multiple miscarriages, in which she cited too much exercise as a contributing factor. Aha. 20 miles, indeed. Would have been nice to know.

If you didn’t, now you do. Dragonflies are great. Miscarriages suck. Stay active and healthy and balanced. Follow those dragonflies, but if you’re pregnant, especially if you’re considered high risk, maybe one pretty butterfly, one cute kid on a trike, should suffice. Just for a few months.

No regrets, ultimately, here. But it’s better to know. The second best part of the ride this morning? Coming home to a still-sleeping family, my daughter a cocooned, sweet and blessed being. We make room for each other on the path all the time. It is sublime.
5:49 pm edt          Comments

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

This just in: Proud of my Alma mater!

Sarah Lawrence College’s outstanding faculty tops The Princeton Review’s 2013 College Ranking among all colleges and universities on the esteemed list.

Cheers to some of the best, most inspiring years of my life. 

4:18 pm edt          Comments

We’re in that summer sweet spot
Yes, school is in session and my now-seventh-grader is settling in amidst new surroundings, new friends and new challenges. This time of year is all about change for my family. Lots of birthdays and anniversaries. And, above all, my daughter’s birthday (tomorrow) and Gotcha Day (10 days prior, August 12, 2001).

The end of August is rife with beginnings. Here’s hoping that yours are sweet. And hoping never to forget the magic moment when I first held her in my arms, mother and daughter, mom and dad, family. Finally and forever.
4:14 pm edt          Comments

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Today in infertility history

Today is Mick’s birthday. Jagger, of course. “You can’t always get what you want,” he consoled me years ago, as I nursed my infertile soul after a trip to the mall with a friend and her 4 year old son, a story immortalized a decade ago on page 23 of Infertility Sucks! Keeping it all together when sperm and egg stubbornly remain apart. Mick, “singing, it seemed, directly to me.”

What I didn’t know then but have subsequently read is that Mick kind of was singing directly to me. And, perhaps, to you. It seems he wrote the song for Marianne Faithful, who had recently miscarried.
Thank you, Mick on behalf of all of us who have experienced that loss.

Happy birthday. Hope you get what you need. 

11:30 am edt          Comments

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Gens X and Y discover infertility's perseverance

Infertility is more like the common cold than the exotic disease it’s still so often perceived as. Not that it’s contagious, of course. Just a lot more pervasive than many realize.

In one day this past weekend, I met one woman who has a close relative who has been struggling for nearly a decade to have a baby. The same day, I reconnected with an old friend who has a close relative just entering the same ring.

May they both find peace and happiness soon. May they find their way, have their way and have their say. May they have the courage to share their stories some day, so the next generation of girls and women don’t take for granted what their lives and their bodies and their relationships will deliver and how.

May Gens X and Y soon be rid of their struggles and meet up at last with chromosomes X and Y in all their glory. 

6:06 pm edt          Comments

Link to web log's RSS file

Word on the web: 

"Very funny, brutally honest, on the mark and well written, Barna gave the world a gift when she wrote this book!"

"I have found this book to be very helpful in supporting and dealing with the emotions of my spouse as we go through our IVF journey. The book really helped me understand the delicate emotions of someone experiencing infertility and how comments like "relax", "stop worrying about it", etc. actually do more harm than help. As a result, I am much more supportive in this IVF cycles than I have been in other cycles because I changed the focus of my comments and have avoided saying the wrong thing." 

"I would recommend this book to anyone who is having difficulties getting pregnant, starting treatment, or have been through treatments to read this book. It really helped me. My husband and I went through 1 1/2 years of treatment before taking a break to get back our lives. When we decided to start back TTC after a year of nothing I bought this book and read it cover to cover in one day. It gave me the emotional strength to start over again. We are still in the process but whenever I feel down on myself I just pick the book up (which I keep next to my bed!) and read a few pages it helps me to focus and get my head back to being me and not about the problems! It helped me laugh at the treatments, my husband, and myself again!" 

"A truly excellent book. It is funny, sad, deep, and very touching."

 

 


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Infertility Sucks! Rocks!
Thanks for visiting. Whether you're a fellow traveler on the road nobody ever wants directions to, or a witness to the human travesty that is infertility, I hope you find warmth, comfort, courage and humor on these cyber pages -- and throughout your longer journey.

All best,
Beverly Barna