Cracked Open - Part 3

Having a couple days off in Banff. Have been reading blogs all morning - oh, my sisters, my heart is always with you!


Was reading WordGirl at Blood Signs and something occurred to me. She talks about making peace with the love that her stepson can offer her. Not the intensely personal mother/child bond, but another type of love. It inspired something in me. An echo.


When my sister and her family came to visit, her little boy woke up late one night and came down the hallway and snuggled with me and my husband while we watched TV. Eventually, I picked him and he wrapped his 4 year old self around me and I put him back to bed. I loved that feeling. That he was at ease with me, trusted me enough to wrap himself around me as I carried his heavy self back to bed. The hole in me seemed smaller for just a blink of an eye. So soothing to be the one who did that. But it expanded again because I yearned for that type of unconditional love for myself. The one that would silence the "you're not good enough, worthy enough, smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, accomplished enough" voice that haunted me. There's this saying we have - "Never seek the Gohonzon outside yourself". I'm sure you can find a similar quote of faith that resonates with you. That's what I was looking for. Something outside of myself.


What I had planned to happen had failed to materialize, depression and infertility had thrown me off kilter, my faith and marriage had taken a beating, and everything in the world seemed to be hellbent on reminding me of what I didn't have. It felt deeply personal and I took it personally. People kept telling me how exceptional I was, yet I was still looking for the rewards, the proof of this. If I was supposed to be happy, then why the hell wasn't I working on a wildly successful TV series and pushing my baby girl down the street with my adored Sampson by my side to meet my gorgeous husband for coffee? Expectations too high? Okay, how about just pushing my baby down the street (no series, no dog) to meet my gorgeous husband for coffee? Okay, at the moment, it's just me and my demented mother meeting my gorgeous husband for coffee.



It occurred to me that my hole that only demands unconditional love in the form of a child says more about the state of my ego than it does about an actual child itself. In a way. Do you know what I mean? I'm sure it's just a part of it, but one I'd like to touch on this. (Cause I have the luxury of time to do this.) I'll just speak for myself though, cause I don't know about anybody else. I hinted at it in my previous posts. The "winning" part of the equation. The "I win, I win!" feeling. It's called rapture in the world of Buddhism. It's short term gratification when one's desires have been achieved. It can still revert back to the world of hunger or hell. The ego craves this exhilaration. Negative pee stick. World of Hell. Positive pee stick. Rapture!



I have no practical experience of how a child would impact my own personal life. Though apparently, I'm on that path come hell or high water. I can imagine, I can intellectualize, I'm not an idiot, I've got eyes, I'm old enough to know that I will cease to be the centre of my demented world (which includes my demented mother). I want to do it because I believe we have a lot to offer a child of this world. I have to admit at one point, because I felt I had truly nothing else WORTHWHILE to accomplish in my life, I figured having a child would give me meaning. Hell, even my husband, at one point said that he wouldn't have brought up his dissatisfaction with me and our marriage HAD WE HAD A CHILD. Because that would have made me the MOTHER of his child. I would have had A JOB, a PURPOSE, a DIRECTION. That would have made me RESPECT WORTHY. These are my caps, not his. I felt rage and disappointment in myself and I hated his guts for a time. He was right. I didn't have any other true purpose, a direction, a passion in my life at that time. I just cruised along in automatic, waiting, waiting, waiting for my miracle to arrive. I certainly didn't have unconditional love for myself. My dog, maybe. I put all my eggs in one basket and my eggs, plenty though they were, didn't want to stick around to turn into a child. I had become a woman of a certain age, prone to depression and bloat. And while I ignored the stones hitting my back, I certainly felt the brick thrown at my head.



I knew that even had that miracle child sprung out of my loins, and he did leave me, I would still have my child. I would have had a noble purpose to cling to. Certainly more noble than taking care of myself. More important. The bond that would never be broken even if my kid grew up, rejected me and took up drugs. I'd still be a MOTHER. Like a universal "sir" or "duchess" or something. A title per se. Satisfying to the ego. And you know how well regarded that title is. Cause if you give up your job to raise your child, you sacrifice your own needs for your child cause it's the most IMPORTANT job in the world, don't ya know, then your life was worthwhile.

Unless you are the type of person voted most likely to find the cure for cancer.

You know, even if you fuck up with your kids, they still love you even if you're a piece of shit. Honestly. You know this is true.

And for those you didn't get that special title, the ego was all too quick to condemn you to the garbage dump. What would happen if I found a new way to define happiness? Would I be a better mother? A better person?

Cracked Open - Part 2

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men Couldn't put Humpty together again.

Now I know this is a nursery rhyme, though not a particulary nice one. But I have a couple of questions. Now I don't know what one expects from horses - why were they called in? What's a horse gonna do? Did the King's men bring in a bucket of water and wash all Humpty's bits away? Existential angst aside, I had felt like Humpty at one point. And like my pseudonym, I certainly felt like I had imploded like a dying star. Simultaneously dealing with my mum's stroke and dementia and trying to get knocked up at the ripe old age of 40 was a bit .... stressful. By failing to conceive and carry a child to term it felt like the universe had conspired to doom me. Now I know that's not true, I just didn't have a stellar womb and science couldn't defeat my biology. I'm certainly not unique in that experience of infertility. My pretty good life took a turn down What the Fuck? Lane. It went from heady excitement and smiles and cheer (had even picked out a name!) to grim determination in the face of infinitesimal odds of success. At a certain point during my IVF days (I'm pretty sure it was when I was in a supply closet recuperating from my first egg retrieval) that I went down the proverbial rabbit hole. I came out of it 3 years later when I used the last of my frozen embryos on the last vapours of my hope, faith and our Visa card. I got up from my knees and went about my business as best as I could, I didn't have a nervous breakdown or anything. Well ..... mmmm. Maybe I did.

I thought I was putting my dreams to rest and moving forward. I thought I would finally be free from the grip of the world of Hunger. You know that world. The one where you just NEED, NEED AND WANT more than you think is sane. I needed to let go because I was sinking. I decided that I was sick to death of being traumatized by blank pregnancy tests, blood labs, swollen ovaries, doctors, and fertility clinics. I was SUPREMELY PISSED. And I was not me anymore. The ascerbic but basically happy go lucky woman who believed that love conquered all, shopping cures all ills, and I know the answer to everything. I was a good person and so when, pray tell, was the good karma law going to come into effect for me? I had endured a generous amount of physical pain and discomfort, and always looked on the bright side. If I worked hard enough, endured enough, DIDN'T GIVE UP, I would be rewarded and I would get to tell my tale of how our child came into this world. Why should I care about the shitty odds? What's a number compared to my the sheer force of my will? People would applaud and wipe the tears from the eye and I would be a symbol of hope and sunshine and roses would come beaming out of my ass and oh, brother, what an EGO! I WAS A GOOD GIRL AND GOOD GIRLS GET THEIR CANDY IF THEY BEHAVE. Even DH told me once that once we started down that path, it was like HE HAD TO WIN, he had to ACHIEVE and BE NUMBER ONE! (insert waving foam finger here) GO TEAM GO, WIN, WIN, WIN!

I lost my faith. And when I stopped chanting, I lost hope. I lost joy. And for a long, long time I believed that somehow I had made a wrong decision somewhere along the line and mentally I kept going back to try and and figure it out. Which is ridiculous. I had to figure out just where I went wrong. Cause if I could figure out when, then everything would make sense, right? Ego, ego, ego was running the show. I resisted in seeing my reality in every sense of the world. Both my husband and I looked at each other and went - who the hell are you?!

Why I am still writing about all this? Cause I still feel the hole. It's been a year since our homestudy was signed, sealed and delivered and still there's a hole. I've tried to fill it. I've tried ignoring it. I definitely think it's become smaller. Like my pant size. The hole has even served me in ways I could never have imagined. It certainly has made me more compassionate. Even served with a slice of bitter betty pie, I've managed to keep my sense of humour. And the point of chanting came back to me. To have hope and joy is indeed possible. For what the hole has taught me, I am very grateful. GRATITUDE. I looked into the eyes of a dying woman and something cracked open inside of me. I'm still battling my ego, fear still whispers in my ear. I know what it is now though.

The old me is gone, may she rest in peace. I missed her, mourned her but there's no going back. Just forward. I like the hole, I've gotten used to it. Not sure I could live without it. Why would I want to be put together again, when there's such a great future ahead of me?

"... but my hope is that with deep prayer and practice, I can transform my karma, connect with the stuff of the universe and create as many stars as I can. Be a star again. And not just any old star. But a Sun. Brilliant and fierce."

10th anniversary as a Buddhist

Today is my 10th anniversary of my Buddhist practise. Happy Buddhist Birthday to me. I have a picture of me (holding a piece of cake naturally) and I have a big smile on my face. It was a great day for me. I didn't know too many people at the culture centre, one Japanese family who always ran to hug me when they saw me, my district leaders (a couple who have been through so many challenges it's crazy and they're still together) and my bemused husband(boyfriend at the time) who came along to see what the hell I was doing with my life. He didn't really want to be there, I think, but he wanted to support me. I remember being so happy, my face hurt from smiling. I was so excited when my boxed Gohonzon and scarf was placed in my hands. There was a special ceremony where the Vancouver director read out what was on the membership certificate and then placed the Gohonzon in my hands as if it were precious gold. I was told that it represented my life and that I should always treasure it. Pictures were taken, excitement was in the air, everyone applauded. I had no idea that it was such an occasion! Later, my district leaders came to our place to enshrine the Gohonzon. They made jokes to put hubby at ease as they put papers in their mouths (so as to not accidently spit on it), proceeded to unroll it and hang it in the butsudan while we chanted. The butsudan is what holds the scroll and it can be very simple or very ornate.

So what can I say about being a Buddhist for a decade? What enlightenment have I received? Well, this Buddhism sounds so simple and it's quite easy to start. But like an onion, it has many layers and when you think you finally get something, you can just as easily realize you don't understand anything. It's been a lot of fun, I have a lot of happy memories with my fellow Buddhists as we've produced exhibits and events in the city. United, we chant to achieve what a lot of people think is a waste of time - world peace.

I've learned that I'm a lot stronger than I thought. I don't cut and run from difficult situations anymore. I stand and fight. My practise has helped me to cycle through therapy in half the time. I've learned that I get a lot more from people when I give more. You can gain compassion through suffering, but you have seek true, unshakeable happiness.

I've lost faith. I've found it again. Slowly, gradually. Infertility can make you question your worth as a woman, your self identity. How many times have we asked, why me? Why can't I be like everyone else?

You don't have to practise a particular religion or philosophy to have faith, but you do need to nurture it. I like ritual but I hate dogma. Ten years ago, I had no idea of just how connected people on this planet are to one another. I've gained a certain level of equanimity. Just a tiny, tiny fraction. I've found happiness not in flat screen TVs, but in nature, in moments in time, in great parking spots. To believe in myself is one of the hardest tasks that I have in this lifetime. I don't think it's an accident that I picked the worst career in the world to try and accomplish this. I've learned the difference between what you do and what your mission is.

I am grateful. And occasionally, fleetingly, when I am in rhythm with the universe, I get the flash that I am not who my mind says I am, I am something so much more. It's those moments when I don't feel fear.

Is being a Buddhist a deal breaker?

Last week we had another inquiry about a child in the States. Actually in a state my husband happens to be visiting in a few weeks for business. The director of our adoption agency asked me if we considered ourselves a Christian couple. Mmmm. No. That was the end of that. There's a reason why I mention that I'm a Buddhist in our profile. (And left out the part about my husband being an atheist.) I was concerned about it naturally because most people don't really know what a Buddhist is. Other than the most relevant point that a Buddhist does not believe in God. And that we wear orange robes, live in incensed filled homes and praise a smiling, fat Buddha statue. I don't want to get all excited and fly somewhere to meet a birth mum and then have to answer the inevitable religion question. It's odd that it could be a deal breaker since if this birth mother is Christian she is 1) "unexpectedly" knocked up 2) not married and 3) considering giving up parental rights to a child that her family/community won't help her raise. Perhaps it's just a comfort level thing. Would someone who has a better insight explain this to me? Teendoc just recently had her child baptised and it was a really big deal for her. It's a beautiful, touching and powerful ritual I know. Even though we were both baptised, I could not make the same promise.

I was raised Christian myself, going to church, Anglican, evangelical (okay my mum dragged us to this one and I read comics or Nancy Drew because the falling down and speaking in tongues freaked me out) and as an adult, Unity. I can't say I've read the entire bible, end to end, but I've read most of it, I really did look for answers. I sat in the pews and listened to the priests and it all sounded nice but somewhat hollow. I've received Holy Communion and drank the wine. I went to Baptist, Catholic, Protestant and United services. I've even had my spiritual moments. But what repulsed and disappointed me in the end was the astounding hypocrisy of so called believers. From laypeople to priests, I've seen the most disgusting behaviour, such indifference, such arrogance and moral laziness. Humanity is far from perfect I know and I don't blame God for that. However, when I was introduced to Buddhism, it was more of a philosophy that I could really understand in my heart. I was not required to denounce Christianity or anything else.
(As a matter of fact, most of the heated finger wagging comes from the former Catholics.)

It was another way of looking at the world, and the most empowering aspect was that I was accountable for the sanctity of my life and others. Just me. I am a Buddha. You are a Buddha. I don't worship a Buddha idol, I don't wear orange robes, and yes, I eat meat. My meditation is a chant that you say out loud. It gives me hope and courage and determination in the midst of happiness and in the midst of suffering. I try to help and encourage others. How is that a deal breaker?

A Buddhist goes up to a hot dog vendor and the hot dog vendor says, "What will you have?" and the Buddhist says, "I'll have one with everything." The vendor charges him $3.50 so the Buddhist gives him $5, but the vendor doesn't give him anything back. The Buddhist says, "Hey, what about my change?" and the vendor says, "Change comes from within."

On happiness

I enjoyed my time on set last week despite the cold and rainy weather. It was great. The director was great to work with and had very specific direction for me. As I read the script, I realized that there were just a few parts for women on the show, so I was really fortunate to get the gig. Everyone was kind and very professional, so it was a good environment for an actor. You have no idea how many sets I've been on where people are cold and bitchy and disorganized and you pretty much have to fend for yourself and when you are a day player (you're just coming on for one day) you have no idea why people are miserable or who to talk to or how to get what you need. So sometimes you think you're messing up a take, but if you know who to ask or what to listen for, you find out there's something wrong with the camera lens or there's a background noise they can't control or the lighting is off. And if you don't know the right questions to ask, you can end up repeating technical mistakes over and over. For example, if you're walking and talking at the same time (an every day occurrence, but can be difficult for an actor), you have to start at a certain place (marked on the ground) and walk a certain trajectory (to be in the correct lighting and not block another actor) to another marked placed on the ground (without looking at it) and make it look perfectly natural and carry through with all your emotional intentions and dialogue. Over and over and over. And if you are a non-famous actor, you had better get it right. They will accomodate a star to incredible lengths, but not Little Miss what's her name.

I was happy to see the first A.D. was someone that had directed me years ago on one of the most fun projects I've ever been on. I did an episode of The Outer Limits starring a former Saturday Night Live star. I invited him to come see the play I'm directing (which opens in a couple of weeks!). I told him to hurry up and direct a project I can be in. Always nice to see a friendly face.

So true to my health karma, I've got another concern on my plate. I get a call from the cancer agency, my mammogram last week showed something they need a second look at, so I've got an ultrasound appointment next month. The next available appointment fell on the day I'm having the uterine fibroid embolization, so I scheduled it for the following week. Sigh. And I actually do those breast self examinations, and I didn't catch it. It's like a long fibrous lump deep under my breast. My family physician felt it during my yearly checkup as I was laying on the exam table. Sigh. Yes, she told me that in most cases, it's nothing and not to worry about it. Still. Remind me not to do a mammogram right before the holidays. I told my hubby that it should have paid more attention to my breasts while he had the chance. Just dark humour. I'm not particularly worried about it, I've had a couple of friends go through the same thing. You know I'll be putting in some extra daimoku (chanting) in over the next month.

There's something about going through transformation that really stirs up the dust in your life. It's apparent to me just how important it is for me to have unshakable happiness in this life. I went to a Buddhist meeting last night, and welcomed one of our members' first child. As I held in my arms and smelled his silky head, and listened to the other mothers, I fought in my heart to just appreciate this new life for what it was, and not to feel sorry for myself. To hope that one day.... one day.... I would be bringing my own bundle of joy into my community. It seems so far away. And would it truly bring me happiness?

Faith enables us to receive the eternal joy derived from the Law. So let us
engrave in our hearts this point: We ourselves receive this joy. Because we
receive it ourselves, our happiness does not depend on others. No one else can
make us happy. Only by our own efforts can we become happy.

Therefore, there is no need to feel envious of others. There is no need to bear a grudge against someone or depend on another person for our happiness. Everything comes down to our state of life. It is within our power to take our lives in any direction we wish.

To be dragged around by other people or the environment is not the way
of life the Lotus Sutra teaches. True happiness is not feeling happiness one
moment and misery the next. Rather, overcoming the tendency to blame our
sufferings on others or on the environment enables us to greatly expand our
state of life.

----Daisaku Ikeda

Bodhisattva of Infertility

Well, I'm back from the Women's Group Conference. It was it amazing. I'm still trying to process it all. I heard so many incredible experiences, I was often in tears or just plain speechless. After all my efforts at trying to conceive, after all the millions of daimoku, creative visualizations, blah, blah, blah, my faith was really shaken, I could use a little guidance. After all, why were my prayers not answered as I was promised? I was looking for a way to revitalize my spirit. The bus ride from the airport to the centre accentuated my feelings of frustration. Most of the conversations I overheard revolved around the women's children. I didn't have anything to add so I stared out the window and prayed the rest of the weekend's topics didn't include how to be a better mom.

It all took place at Caledon, it's like a Buddhist retreat, but it's also available for the public when it's not being used by SGI members. The 4 days are filled with chanting, lectures about Buddhist writings, planetary citizenship, experiences, entertainment, great food and of course endless chatting with women from all over Canada. I organized a forum theatre presentation based on the SGI-USA youth Victory over Violence program.

All the women had to carve time from their busy lives and families to attend this year's conference. Even though I, like the other Western region members, suffered from jet lag, I still stayed up late talking with my roommate, sharing my troubles and exchanging encouragement.

I heard an experience from a petite, musically gifted woman who overcame uterine fibroid cancer. I can't tell her whole experience but she told us how full of gratitude she was for her fellow members who chanted nonstop for her recovery. Another woman related how fellow members who through deep compassion for her, she decided that she owed it to them to fight for her own life. One woman shared shared how her chronic illness lead to to contribute to a new protocol for a metropolitan hospital patient program. Late night conversations continued into the night over cookies and coffee or in the dorm rooms in our pajamas.

I told my roommate, whom I had known while I was in the Young Women's Group a few years ago, my tale of infertility woe. She, like many of other young women I had shared so many good times, had gone on to marriage and children. The last time I had spent any time with her I had brought her first son a stuffed toy. She was so kind to me, so caring.

Senior leaders gave guidance to those who wanted it in private rooms. Now these leaders are women who have practiced for many, many years and they never tell you what to do. It's primarily guidance, inspiration and encouragement based on the writings of our mentor, Pres. Ikeda or the gosho (writings/letters from Nichiren Daishonin). What was my guidance?

I was encouraged to realize that my mission just may be to comfort those who have suffered through what I have. To find value in this mission. I can still be a mother, it just may not be in the way I expected. I may have had lots of children in another lifetime (who cares, what about this lifetime). I was encouraged to change my attitude to one of appreciation about what I do have. There was more, but basically, that was the message.


Definition of a Bodhisattva

After the rise of Mahayana, bodhisattva came to mean anyone who aspires to enlightenment and carries out altruistic practice. Mahayana practitioners used it to refer to themselves, thus expressing the conviction that they would one day attain Buddhahood. In contrast with the Hinayana ideal embodied by the voice-hearers and cause-awakened ones who direct their efforts solely toward personal salvation, Mahayana sets forth the ideal of the bodhisattva who seeks enlightenment both for self and others, even postponing one's entry into nirvana in order to lead others to that goal. The predominant characteristic of a bodhisattva is therefore compassion.

So that makes me a Bodhisattva of Infertility? Well, if that's the case,there are many bodhisattvas of infertility out there. (I'm thinking of Pamela Jeanne in particular.) In attempting to discover our own enlightenment and share it with others, we are bodhisattvas of the earth.

I also received guidance through another friend. She told me that I seem to be always
talking about walls, how every way I seem to be blocked in my life, how much I analyzed and agonized about what to do and how I should do it. My roommate chimed in she remembered something that Pres. Ikeda once wrote. If the path before me is blocked, then fly. Tears flooded my eyes. I've been so scared of not being able to control things that cannot be controlled. What if we can't get the money? What if we invite more heartache and disaster into our lives by adopting? And now I could understand that all that worrying, fretting, trying to intellectualize my way out of my hell just resulted in depression and helplessness.

If the path before me is blocked, then fly. I know what this means for me. What does it mean to you?

Who am I?

I'm an actress and after many years of sacrifice, I had achieved a small modicum of success. And as long as I was booking gigs and making money in my chosen field, I could feel good about myself and who I was. I felt successful and powerful. And when I stopped booking gigs, my self esteem would quickly erode. I went from temp job to temp job, waiting for my big break. I wanted to be a more positive, well rounded person who could be happy and enjoy her life no matter what and when I became a Buddhist, the practice definitely uplifted my life and perspective on life.

Fast forward to the recent past when I was determined to become a mother in the usual fashion. And after the unfortunate outcome, I was once again face to face with the "who am I now?" question. So much time, so much sacrifice, so much expense (financial and emotional) had gone into the effort. My ultimate creative moment was a non-event. For years, I'd assumed I'd get married and have kids by the time I was 30 and be a series regular TV star. When I hit 30, I figured I just had to postpone things for a little longer. I had just started to figure out the kind of woman I wanted to be. And then I thought I'd never meet Mr. Right and almost settled for Mr. Wrong. And when I did meet Mr. Right, I really had to figure out how to make myself happy no matter what. I grew up a lot.

This whole infertility bag has taught me a lot about my ego. I've been thoroughly humbled. I doubted my faith, I doubted my ability to ever feel peace of mind again and I still struggle with how to reconcile my sense of femininity with the body I've been given in this life. This body that could carry my through a 10K race could not carry me through a pregnancy. Not that I'm an athlete in any sense of the world, but I've always been healthy and strong. I thought by doing all the right things and believing with all my heart, that giving birth to our child would only be a matter of time and persistence. I've always been the one that people come to nurturing and care. You know, the "mother" of the group. I confess I don't feel very feminine these days.

You know there's one thing that a Buddhist knows for sure - life isn't fair. It's how you react to life's challenges that counts. So aside from the emotional eating, a fibroidy uterus, and unemployment, I'm not doing too badly.

I'm off to a Buddhist conference in a few days, and I hope to come back spiritually refreshed and ready to deal with more paperwork and social workers.

And the winner is...BFN!

I tried acupuncture, Chinese medicine, supplements up the ying yang, and even a personal trainer. Hell, I felt great! I felt prepared! I never complained! I gave up coffee and drinking and it was all worth it. I was chanting like a mofo and I was 100% certain that my sheer force of will and desire and every benevolent force in the universe would bring me a BFP! Boy, what a story it would make to tell the little one later on. Ha, ha, ha, child, with your tab, you're going to have a get a paper route.

Even injecting myself with the drugs wasn't that big of a deal. I looked forward to it. We joked so much, it was kind of exciting, you know?

People I barely even know were (and still are) constantly asking me when I am going to have a baby. Especially if they haven't seen you in a while and you just bump into them at the store or something. Ah, well, I, uh, don't know how much I want to reveal of my personal and private anguish to you in the dairy section. No, scratch that, I'm not supposed to eat dairy. You know, at first I would smile and reassure them (and me)that it would happen.

Especially after the 2nd lap, in the new clinic that wouldn't put me in a closet to wait after an embryo transfer. IVF#2 went a little better, even got me some nice new fancy blastocysts - can't get much better than that, right? What's a little ovarian hyperstimulation between friends? Best part was that was my belly was 2 inches bigger after the retrieval and I could barely move, but I felt pregnant already! Whoohoo! Lots of quiet chanting - maybe my chanting the first time was too strong! The energy might shake my babies loose. Fast forward through the 2 week wait - otherwise known as fresh hell, 10th circle of Google hell, fill in your favourite phrase - to what Aunt Flo had already announced - BFN. What the fuck?!!!!

Attempt #3 had them putting in 4, count em 4 lovely embryos. Third time's the charm, right? I'll always remember how lovely my uterus looked via the hysteroscopy - all pink and fluffy, like candy floss. I actually made it to blood test day with no spotting either. My first time with no sign of the crimson bitch in sight. Didn't even want to believe in that stupid pee stick. Hope shone her lovely light on me. Alas, BFN. I had no words. No air in my lungs.

A week later, I had the most painful period of my life. And I was glad. I think my hubby thought I'd gone over the deep end. But I was satisfied the physical pain I felt finally matched my insides.

During this difficult time, I looked up my old therapist. She was a gift. She made me realize that I was traumatized and grieving an end to a dream. She used EMDR on me, (kinda weird but I was game) and it helped quite a bit. And once, for the whole hour, I just sobbed.

Attempt #4 was somewhat fatalistic. I had 2 frozen embryos left and I felt it was best to do an unmedicated cycle. I knew the time had come to say goodbye. I paid good money for those embies, I couldn't just let them be thawed and discarded in a lab. They were going to go back inside of me to either thrive or not. My husband and I were open to whatever the result was going to be. No judgments. Now I just chanted for peace. Just surrender. Clarity. I wanted my life back, I wanted to go back to the way I used to be. I missed the old me. My husband could no longer bear to watch me suffer.

If there is one thing my faith has taught me, is that I have a lot to be grateful for. And I wanted to sit before the Gohonzon and chant with gratitude for my life, my loved ones, this beautiful world. I was sick of stuffing my face to keep my fear away.

And so, when I got the BFN from the pee stick, the phone call didn't hurt as much. I knew that I would live through it all. In acting school, when we finished a monologue or a scene we would say....AND SCENE... just to let you know we were done if you didn't already know it. And we were done. Finished. I just wouldn't be the same woman I used to be. And I guess, that was also a part of what I had been mourning. The woman I used to be.

Suffer what there is to suffer, enjoy what there is to enjoy. Regard both
suffering and joy as facts of life and continue chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, no
matter what happens. Then you will experience boundless joy from the Law.
Strengthen your faith more than ever.
- Nichiren Daishonin