Husband and I like spicy food. We eat a lot of curries, hot sauce and peppers, and we like trying new foods. And I am a lucky wife. Husband eats anything I serve him. There's no turned-up noses or piles of sprouts pushed to the side of plate.
I understand that children can be fussy eaters. When they are really young, you can feed them anything. Goodtimes used to have miso soup. G gorged himself on broccoli. But as they are getting older, the fussiness is setting in. Gone are the days - for now - of savoury and grown-up meals in my sister's house. They have settled into the days of grilled cheese sandwiches and fries.
On a shelf in my kitchen, there sits a row of cookbooks that I love to pour over and find new recipes. I am looking forward to to cracking open a new book about spices. Once, my sister was wondering what to make for dinner and I suggested Spicy Peanut Chicken. As soon as the word "spicy" left my lips, my sister shook her head, knowing that no one in her home would eat it. Sucks to be in the home with no Spicy Peanut Chicken.
Now pardon me while I go make a chipotle sauce for the fish.
Showing posts with label fertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fertility. Show all posts
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Wednesday, 15 February 2012
Oh. Pardon me for my infertility.
I am infuriated by a new report out today about infertility. The report says infertility rates are on the rise, yet no research is done as to why those numbers are rising. That would have been helpful. But it is this paragraph that has my blood boiling:
So, in my 20’s, when I was at the height of my fecundity I should have had a child? Forget that I was an emotional wreck, unstable in my career, and in relationships with all the wrong men. Yes, I should have birthed the spawn of whatever douche I was with at the time so that now, at 36, I would not be facing infertility with my husband. Is that what these scientists are suggesting?
There may be some women out there who put off children, but then there are some of us who did not meet the right partner until we were well into our 30’s. It’s not that I wanted to focus on an education, a career, travelling, or anything else other than a child. I was not emotionally or financially prepared to have a child. If I had a baby at 26, I would have been a struggling single mother. Instead, I chose to wait until I found a good partner, and in that stable relationship have a child. I was 34 before Husband I decided to try for a family because by then, we were stable in our marriage and in our lives to have a child. Biology has played a cruel joke on Husband and me.
There may be some women out there who put off children, but then there are some of us who did not meet the right partner until we were well into our 30’s. It’s not that I wanted to focus on an education, a career, travelling, or anything else other than a child. I was not emotionally or financially prepared to have a child. If I had a baby at 26, I would have been a struggling single mother. Instead, I chose to wait until I found a good partner, and in that stable relationship have a child. I was 34 before Husband I decided to try for a family because by then, we were stable in our marriage and in our lives to have a child. Biology has played a cruel joke on Husband and me.
The article then goes on with the scientists complaining that more health care money is spent on multiple or complicated births associated with fertility treatments. We infertile folk just can’t win!
Are they advocating that women have babies no matter what their situation is at the time when they’re most fertile? Wouldn’t they then bitch about having to support single mothers, poor children, and all the social problems that can come from unstable women having babies? Take your pick.
I’m not having a baby so I can live the life of Riley then pay thousands of dollars for fertility treatments. I’m not having a baby because Husband and I are physically unable to.
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Side Twelve: Uncalculated Sex
Please, you all knew a post about sex was coming (ahem) sooner or later. While developing and writing this blog, I realized that sex as a barren couple has several bright sides. By saying "sex" and using broad strokes (ahem), I was doing a disservice to this bright side. There is spontaneous sex, kitchen sex, couch sex, loud sex, morning sex, middle-of-the-night sex, afternoon sex, and today's post: uncalculated sex.
In those early days after Husband and I decided that we would welcome a child into our world, the calendar was my friend. I knew when my cycle was, what days were good for conception, which ones were not. I could tell you without a breath of hesitation when my last period ended. "10 days after" became a mantra. I took my temperature, watched for fluid changes (I am sorry male readers for that one), and tracked my month for days that were good to conceive a boy and ones that were good to conceive a girl. It was madness.
Husband and I also decided that we would not become one of those couples who obsess over when to have sex because that day was the best day to conceive. We agreed that when the mood hit, we'd get it on. I had to restrain myself from yelling "do me now!", especially as the months melted away and we remained unconceived. Sex started to become a chore, and not something that Husband and I loved. And really, where's the fun in that?
Then the news came - we were unable to conceive naturally. After the tears and the "why me?s" a sense of liberation washed over me. I no longer had to watch the calendar, my underpants, and try to make obligatory sex sexy. We were free from sex coming with an equation: 11 days after last period + want of a boy x basal temperature = Wednesday sex.
Even couples who are not trying to conceive but are fertile have to watch the calendar. How many days has it been? When are the birth control pills running out? When is the doctor's appointment for the vasectomy. We infertile couples worry not about pills and days. We have sex whenever we want, moving rhythmically to the knowledge that all the sex in the world cannot produce a child. Hurray for this bright side!
Now, if you'll excuse me....
In those early days after Husband and I decided that we would welcome a child into our world, the calendar was my friend. I knew when my cycle was, what days were good for conception, which ones were not. I could tell you without a breath of hesitation when my last period ended. "10 days after" became a mantra. I took my temperature, watched for fluid changes (I am sorry male readers for that one), and tracked my month for days that were good to conceive a boy and ones that were good to conceive a girl. It was madness.
Husband and I also decided that we would not become one of those couples who obsess over when to have sex because that day was the best day to conceive. We agreed that when the mood hit, we'd get it on. I had to restrain myself from yelling "do me now!", especially as the months melted away and we remained unconceived. Sex started to become a chore, and not something that Husband and I loved. And really, where's the fun in that?
Then the news came - we were unable to conceive naturally. After the tears and the "why me?s" a sense of liberation washed over me. I no longer had to watch the calendar, my underpants, and try to make obligatory sex sexy. We were free from sex coming with an equation: 11 days after last period + want of a boy x basal temperature = Wednesday sex.
Even couples who are not trying to conceive but are fertile have to watch the calendar. How many days has it been? When are the birth control pills running out? When is the doctor's appointment for the vasectomy. We infertile couples worry not about pills and days. We have sex whenever we want, moving rhythmically to the knowledge that all the sex in the world cannot produce a child. Hurray for this bright side!
Now, if you'll excuse me....
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Side Ten: Restaurants
My Sister recently moved to northern Manitoba for work. Before she left, we went for breakfast. G was in play group, and I foolishly thought that we could have a nice, quiet breakfast with one child - just E. You see, I have never really been to restaurants with two adults and one kid. It's always been a slew of children and a bunch of adults to reign them in. I thought with this ratio, we could have a civilized, adult meal. After all, the adults outnumbered the child, so adults should win, right?
E was in a high chair, but then tried to climb out by almost tipping it over. She walked around the restaurant saying hi to everyone, but came back when people ignored her. She ate french toast with her mom, but then tried to pour syrup on the table. She ate some berries until she tired of them and smashed them in her tiny fingers. With syrupy, berry-stained hands, she grabbed for the salt, the pepper, the sugar packets, the milk cups, the flowers, the specials board, my wallet, her mom's sunglasses. This continued until our food was gobbled, our coffee slurped. We dined and dashed - with paying, of course.
Last night, Husband and I went to dinner. It was a lovely place, and we enjoyed ourselves despite the children around us. But watching the family with the two little boys - about 6 and 8 - made me see yet another bright side to barrenness.
The younger boy was the ham of this family. He was making faces, making bubbles in his glass of water, saying "cute" things. He didn't even stop when the food came. He started harping about wanting chicken bones (read: chicken wings) and yelped about it until his mother blew on a wing until it was cool. I watched the mother. She was eating quickly, grabbing napkins, saving glasses of water from falling off the table, shushing the younger kid, getting ketchup for the older kid... it was exhausting to watch. Husband and I got our meals and enjoyed our serenity.
Being able to talk and enjoy another adult's company over a meal is a very bright side of being barren.
E was in a high chair, but then tried to climb out by almost tipping it over. She walked around the restaurant saying hi to everyone, but came back when people ignored her. She ate french toast with her mom, but then tried to pour syrup on the table. She ate some berries until she tired of them and smashed them in her tiny fingers. With syrupy, berry-stained hands, she grabbed for the salt, the pepper, the sugar packets, the milk cups, the flowers, the specials board, my wallet, her mom's sunglasses. This continued until our food was gobbled, our coffee slurped. We dined and dashed - with paying, of course.
Last night, Husband and I went to dinner. It was a lovely place, and we enjoyed ourselves despite the children around us. But watching the family with the two little boys - about 6 and 8 - made me see yet another bright side to barrenness.
The younger boy was the ham of this family. He was making faces, making bubbles in his glass of water, saying "cute" things. He didn't even stop when the food came. He started harping about wanting chicken bones (read: chicken wings) and yelped about it until his mother blew on a wing until it was cool. I watched the mother. She was eating quickly, grabbing napkins, saving glasses of water from falling off the table, shushing the younger kid, getting ketchup for the older kid... it was exhausting to watch. Husband and I got our meals and enjoyed our serenity.
Being able to talk and enjoy another adult's company over a meal is a very bright side of being barren.
Thursday, 18 August 2011
Side Six: Spontaneous Trips
It was a dull Monday afternoon and the skies threatened rain. Husband looked over the table at me and asked me to go see Captain America. It was about a quarter to noon and the movie started at 12:30 pm. We saw that showing and it was a wonderful movie.
One evening, Husband and I just finished dinner and I suggested we go for a walk to get ice cream. We left the house right then and there.
One morning, as I got out of the shower, Husband asked if I wanted to go for a walk on the waterfront. I got dressed and we headed out.
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| NOT the author and Husband frolicking on the beach. Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.com |
The upside of barrenness is that Husband and I can walk out of the house whenever we want to do whatever we want without the logistical planning reserved for NASA. My sister came for a visit this winter, and although Edmonton in the winter is the pits, she was giddy. She was on a trip without G or E, and she was most excited to be able to leave the house with just her purse. Sometimes on our walks, we just bring house keys. No bags, no diapers or bottles, no strollers… just us. Cheesing it on a moment’s notice is a very bright upside to barrenness.
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