NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: A Question of Faith?

Author's Note: I still believe in a compassionate God.
Stem Cell Research: A Question of Faith?
The ban on stem cell research has been overturned and I am left to ponder what this means. Being someone who is of good standing faith, a catholic who is supposed to believe that this is morally wrong, I'm not so sure I agree with my church. I am also someone who has had embryos frozen and knows that indeed a frozen embryo can give life, a precious child you so desperately want, so I do see the moral dilemma here that many people are struggling with today.
However, let me say, that my church also condemned me for having my child the "way" I did. As I stood in a Newark church, a church that was known for a statue that if prayed at this church by this statue it would help you conceive, I was asked by a priest how I was conceiving this child. I stumbled a bit (and yes lied to a priest) and told him what he wanted to hear so he would give me a special blessing. Because he had doubts of my sincerity, he gave me the speech of how God wants me to conceive a child, and let me say, it wasn't the route I was headed.
On the way home that day from the church in the pouring rain, I cried my eyes out. I was completely torn inside and questioned my moral judgment. I was tortured thinking that if I was able to conceive I would have a child that would be eternally condemned. After days of soul searching, I came to the conclusion one night that I believed in a God that wanted me to have happiness that wanted me to give life whatever way that may be. I didn't believe in a God that because I couldn't have a baby the traditional way I shouldn't have one and I should be left to suffer. My God is a compassionate God.


So here I sit today pondering another moral question, should stem cell research be allowed? Maybe a year ago I might have felt differently but I doubt it. You see, a year ago my father was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. My Father's life has changed for ever and everyone around him -- a man so full of life and energy, a man so fiercely independent that a worse disease couldn't have been given to him even if asked. At this time, he is struggling with giving up a little bit of his independence and letting the one's who love him take care of him. I admire my Dad for his strength, courage and wisdom but it breaks my heart to see him so angry and frustrated so often. I also see what it has done to my Mom and see my usually tough as nails Mother be reduced to tears so often too.
As I sat in church on Sunday and listened to all the reasons, why not. I could only think of the reason why - I saw a cure to the pain. I thought of all those frozen embryos that would never give life that would just be discarded and what type of good moral decision is that? I thought if I had one frozen embryo left from all my cycles that I never planned on implanting, I would give it to some brilliant scientist looking for the cure for PD in a heartbeat.
What I came to is this, for me, using a frozen embryo is not destroying life -- it is just the opposite -- it is giving life back to someone. Maybe I am taking the easy way out and bending the rules to suit me? Maybe I am not a good catholic? However, I keep coming back to my belief that my God is a compassionate God. And for me, coming to that conclusion, let's me sleep soundly and gives me hope that we will find a cure to PD and many other diseases giving life back to those who so desperately want it.

NJ Moms Retrospect: Rookie Mistakes

Author's Note: I continue to make rookie mistakes. I also still consider myself a rookie.
Rookie Mistakes
When I was pregnant, as I sat in the OB/GYN's office, I often found myself reading some sort of parenting or pregnancy magazine. While waiting, I thought I should get a few lessons in on parenting before this child came into the world since I didn't have much of a clue of how to raise a child. A regular feature that struck me in Parents magazine was a column called "It Happened To Me". Basically, it would feature a mishap. Wait, let me rephrase that a HORRIBLE accident caused by a parenting mistake where children often ended up in the emergency room. As I read these stories with horror about falling Christmas stocking hangers that caused a toddler's concussion and infants tumbling off changing tables left with bruises, I thought, smugly, how could that ever happen. I mean I wasn't an expert in this area and self-admitted that the maternal gene might have skipped a generation but come on these parents were obviously not as cautious as I was going to be. In a nutshell, I surmised that I was at least going to be a much better parent then the the ones featured in Parents magazine. Yes, I gave myself the kiss of death.
Think of most professional athletes in their rookie season, they have that swagger like nothing bad is going to happen to me. They believe they are invincible and in many ways they are impervious to the rules of the world. As we all know, having that attitude can be dangerous not only to yourself but to others. While I didn't exactly have a swagger, I did have the attitude that if I was cautious and careful (the two Cs) no "It Happened To Me" accidents would plague my son. However, there comes a time when every rookie makes a mistake. Mine came in the form of Murphy's Oil.

Up until the Murphy's Oil incident, I had free and clear track record when it came to my son Benjamin having accidents in my presence. Not bad if I do say so myself for a child who is almost 2 years of age. Maybe my cockiness got the best of me or maybe it was the fact that I had just called out my Mom and husband for Benjamin having a few incidents on their watches. Whatever it was, my world was about to turn upside down with one misplaced bottle of wood floor cleaner.
In an effort to keep my house clean (I really do need a maid), I decided while Ben was occupying himself I would clean my wood floors. When I turned around to retrieve the mop, I turned to find my son drinking Murphy's Oil. How could I let this happen? I had no idea what would happen next. Would Ben turn blue? Would he stop breathing? Would he start vomiting uncontrollably? What did I do to my precious son? After several phone calls to Poison Control and a visit from the cops and paramedics, I found out that Ben would live. In fact, the worst that would happen to Benjamin is that he might be a little sick.
I now know mistakes, accidents and mishaps are a good way to bring you back to reality and kick that swagger right out of your step. While I confessed to my husband that I had made a colossal mistake on my watch, I knew that I owed a big apology to all the "It Happened To Me" Moms. So here goes...Hi, my name is Jennifer Kamienski and I too am a 'It Happened To Me" Mom.

NJ Moms Retrospect: Multiple Mania and Irresponsible Doctors

Author's Note: While not my most commented, this is one of my favorites. This still makes me angry.
January 31, 2009
Multiple Mania and Irresponsible Doctors
I am a veteran of the "infertility war". I happen to know way too much about the topic of reproductive endocrinology. Having gone through, years of testing, several surgeries and multiple cycles, I think I have the right and knowledge to comment on the irresponsibility of some fertility doctors. I also have the right because I was fortunate enough to go to two clinics, one a highly-regarded regional facility and the other arguably the best in the world, where the doctors educated their patients on such risks and instituted policies so incidents like the California 8 would not happen.
Trust me I know how you can get caught up in the world of fertility. Your emotions takeover and you think, "sure putting 12 embryos in my uterus is a great idea!", but at that point you aren't thinking of the consequences you are just so desperate to have a baby you will consider anything. However, this is where a responsible doctor needs to step in and counsel their patients. While at "arguably the best fertility clinic in the world," I was told right off the bat even though I had a "difficult case" they would only consider putting two maybe three embryos in at one time. So let's put this into perspective, I am a woman who has not yet had any children - I didn't have the luxury of 6 others waiting at home for me. I am, at the time, 34 years old - not 30. I have stage 4 endometriosis and damaged fallopian tubes, basically I need a miracle, and all the clomid in the world isn't helping me. How does the California 8's doctor in his right mind let this happen when my doctor would only put in up to three embryos?!?!?

I do understand that she didn't go through IVF like I did but when you are on drugs like Clomid, once again, a responsible doctor will monitor follicle production and will cancel a cycle if there are too many being produced to avoid a situation like this. Here is the other thing when you are using a sperm donor you don't necessarily need to be on Clomid. Why in this doctor's right mind did he give a fertility drug to a woman who is clearly fertile?!?
Reproductive medicine has some voodoo and ethical questions constantly surrounding because of negative stories like the CA octuplets and it is unfortunate. At times when I didn't want to hear it, I was blessed to have responsible doctors on my side giving me proper guidance, outlining the risks involved. I read a quote from a doctor saying, "who am I to say how many children a women should have. maybe she wanted a big family?" Maybe she does but P.S. she already HAD ONE! While I know doctors can't tell you what to do and they are not their to judge how many children you should and shouldn't have, they can help you come to a responsible decision one that keeps the mother and unborn children safe. My hope is there are more doctors out there like my wonderfully brilliant and responsible reproductive endocrinologists.

NJ Moms Retrospect: Oh Sugar, Honey, Ice, Tea!

Author's Note: While I try not to swear around Ben, he does like to say, "for the love of the god" now. Yes, I will try harder...
January 01, 2009
Oh Sugar, Honey, Ice, Tea!
My language has sometimes been described as that of a trucker. Yes, Orbit definitely needs to clean this dirty mouth up from time to time. I have been known to throw my share of f-bombs in inappropriate situations and receive not so-approving looks but F-it I love to swear. Shocking really since I came from a household of curse-free kin. On the other hand, maybe that is why I feel the need to swear so much because I had been repressed all those years from using my favorite four letter words. Now that my son Benjamin has become Polly Parrot I have once again started to watch my language more carefully but every now and then it just escapes from my mouth before I can stop it.
In an effort to work through my problem, I've started to use G-rated phrases like "oh rats" and "darn it" when I am around Benjamin. However, a few weeks back while holiday shopping I fell off the wagon and said "Oh, S.ugar, H.oney, I.ce, T.ea" and I'll give you one guess who repeated my phrase. And of course, my husband Wally was there to witness. I got a lot of, "nice job Jenn" and "oh, and you thought it would be he would learn bad words from." Okay, Wally - yes it was me who f---ed up. You happy? You self-righteous P.I.A.
With the incident a distant memory, I thought the situation was a-one-time-only deal that at least he wasn't repeating it constantly or worse yet repeating it in front of others. Friday my son proved me wrong. Two days before Christmas our furnace exploded and we needed to replace it (Guess what I got for Christmas this year?). The furnace was running fine but as I was preparing dinner on Friday night I heard the sound of water then turned around to see water pouring from a pipe in the kitchen. I screamed for Wally. In each room we went, there was water EVERYWHERE!!! Even in the midst of the mayhem I didn't swear but as I was heading into the basement with Ben in tow to see if my husband needed any assistance with the furnace I saw yet another pipe leaking and said, "oh no!" The next phrase you heard didn't come from Wally but our 22 month old son "Oh, S.ugar, H.oney, I.ce, T.ea!"
We didn't reprimand him for swearing, because as Wally put, "he used it correctly and it was a Oh, S.ugar, H.oney, I.ce, T.ea! moment." Yes, Benjamin I couldn't have said it any better myself.
This is an orginal post for NJ Moms Blog. Jennifer can also be found blogging on The Kamienski Chronicles

NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: Confessions from the bedroom

An author's note: Benjamin still sleeps in our bed. I hope by the time he is 10 he will be out.
December 17, 2008
Confessions from the bedroom
Now that I have your attention. This post is not about some sexual deviant behavior -- sorry to disappoint. Although, the issue is starting to effect my sex life (Mom, maybe you shouldn't read any further). My confession is: my son sleeps in our bed. A lot of moms our there are probably saying "me too" but my son Benjamin REFUSES to sleep anywhere but in our bed. I mean when we ask him where his bed is he points to my bedroom not his. If I even dare place his precious little head in his crib, he becomes a demon child looking to wish harm on me.
To set the stage, from the time we brought my son home from the hospital, he was never much of a sleeper. However, my husband and I were led to believe by the nursery room nurses that he was an angel -- a model sleeper. I now know those women lied to me. I never was able to tell stories to other moms of how at 2 months my child slept through the night. The only stories I have been able to tell are horror stories of my child's sleeping habits. For the first three months of Ben's life, I kid you not, someone had to hold him at all times. If we even tried to put him in a pack n' play or in his bassinet, no matter how asleep I thought he was, his eyes would flash open, and even as a newborn, he would give me a dirty look. Trust me, I didn't start co-sleeping because I thought it was a great bonding exercise, it was the only way I could get to sleep. Yes, I know how dangerous it is but it seemed to be even more dangerous to have a mother out there with absolutely no sleep. I also knew my child needed to sleep. And the excuses continue....
I always thought, "he'll adjust" or "he'll outgrow this". I also know this to be untrue. I also now believe that he only likes a soft mattress but it is more lies I tell myself to feel better. In the beginning, I tried to get him back to sleep in his crib but each time he would wake up as soon as he was put in the crib. As a working mother, I got lazy and knew it was easier to bring him in my bed with me and my husband. This has proved to be my biggest downfall. If only I was a stronger person who didn't require sleep I could have powered through this, now at 21 months it is too late, my son will be 21 years of age and still in the bed with mom, dad and our dog.
We've tried it all including "ferberizing". Yeah that was a disaster. Once again, I am too weak. The one night we tried this Benjamin first screamed his head off and paced back and forth in the crib like a caged animal. Next to show us how much he was disappointed in us, he actually riped down the video baby monitor and yelled into it -- I'm not exaggerating. I refuse to let my baby cry to the point of sickness. I just breaks my heart so back into mommy and daddy's bed. Another tactic we used was "the crib isn't such a scary place if mommy is in it", yes I crawled in my son's bed but he only wanted out and wanted to leave me there while him and daddy went to the bed.
Now, I just can't take it. I need to do something. The feet in my back and the kicks in the head just aren't cute anymore. I flash forward five years from now and it scares me. Our new strategy is to buy him a big boy bed but I think it will end up being my bed which isn't a bad thought come to think of it now. Hey, and it's more comfortable than the crib (but don't tell Ben I said that).
This is an original post for NJ Moms Blog. You can also find Jennifer blogging on The Kamienski Chronicles.

NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: If A Man Can Get Pregnant So Easily, Why Can't I?

An author's note: Due to the popularity of this post (my most commmented post), it was reposted to all our sister sites. Just reading over the comments it makes me feel like my words matter.
November 30, 2008
If A Man Can Get Pregnant So Easily, Why Can't I?
Lately, I feel like every time I turn on the news the pregnant man is staring at me. From ABC to CNN, Thomas Beatie was showing off his lovely little girl and announcing that a second child was on the way. While I watched the various interviews, I thought to myself here is a man who is expecting his second child without what seemed to be many fertility issues. From the information I have gathered, the man didn't need to go through any assisted reproductive measures. Yes, the couple used donated sperm but they didn't even need the services of a doctor for the insemination process. In fact, his wife used some sort of bird feeder, at home,to impregnate her husband. I kid you not. A man is expecting child number two because his wife got him pregnant with a device you use to feed a bird.
In my life, I wish the same were true. I wish my husband, Wally, could come along with a bird feeder and make me pregnant but this is not the path I was given in life. Am I bitter towards the pregnant man? A little and not because he is a man but because he seems to be able to get pregnant more easily than me. To get this woman pregnant (meaning me), which supposedly my body was born to do, I need a team of highly paid specialists, hours of mediation, a vegetable-based diet, various yoga positions, many attempts, buckets of money and lots of prayers. While am I blessed to say I was given my miracle after fours years of trying to conceive, I still get a little upset at my non-fertility challenged counterparts. I know it isn't their fault they were given beautiful ovaries (while I was given two rotten eggs) and I should feel happy for them...I should. Don't get me wrong for the most part I do but there is that part of me that is still jealous and can't let it go. But what really drives me up a wall (and I speak for my husband as well when I say this), is the unwanted fertility advice. I know, I know, I know people mean well but for someone who has had yet ANOTHER failed IVF cycle the LAST thing they want to hear is advice on how to get pregnant. So the following is a guide of what not to say to someone who tells you they are having a hard time conceiving.
Never say, "just relax and it will happen." Most women who are suffering from fertility issues have medical problems and all the relaxing, meditating, yoga, wine and vacationing in the world is not going to help them get pregnant. Yes, these things do help you stay sane and do create a hospitable environment for the eggs to grow but it won't change the fact that some has endometriosis, polycystic ovarian syndrome or low ovarian reserve. At a family get together, no less a one year old birthday party, a relative of my husband asked what our hold up was why weren't we having babies yet. Wally kindly explained that we were trying. Wally's relative then told me I needed to "chill out". I had to leave the table for fear of punching him out. Just a warning for people who say those sort of things, if I happened to be in the middle of a cycle and my hormones were raging, I could not have been held responsible for the beating I would have given that man. He was lucky.
Never say, "I know someone who..." Do you really know someone who got pregnant after they adopted a little baby from Cambodia? Do you really know someone who got pregnant even though their tubes were tied? Do you really know someone who after years and years of trying out of blue got pregnant? I don't think you do. It always seems to be someone who knows someone who knows someone. I have never had a first hand account story of fertility hope. Instead, it is always my sister's sister-in-law's cousin twice removed had a child after years of trying by just using Chinese herbs. I am calling it right now -- liar. Here is another little secret, the women who have fertility issues HATE these stories. They are all fine and sweet and wonderful for that mysterious person you don't really know but for the women who have had their hearts broken countless times -- cycle after cycle -- it just breaks their hearts all over again. For the woman who has been told her chances of conception are about 1%, it makes them depressed to know that those stories are just fairy tales. They wish they were real but not for the woman in the story but for them.
Never say, "why don't you try FILL IN THE BLANK HERE?" Unless you have been there done that and it has worked for you don't offer false hope. As a woman who struggled for several years to have a child, I was looking for any miracle cure. I tried it all. Yes, I do believe that a combination of western and eastern medicine is what eventually got me pregnant. I do also know what it felt like one day to stand in the back of my church as a woman with two kids and another on the way told me to try some herbs that a friend of hers used to get pregnant. I had no idea what she was saying all I know is that I wanted to be her. I wanted to be carrying a baby I didn't care what advice she had for me. I also know I couldn't go back to church for awhile after that encounter it made me angry and sad all at once. A place I always felt like I belonged made me feel unwanted like an outcast because I didn't have a baby.
As I think about trying for a second child, I'm not sure I can't put myself through the pain and heartache. I know I will encounter the "when is number two on the way" questions (and have already including on my walk today with my son by a complete stranger) but I will continue to swallow my pride and smile and answer the most tactful way I can, "oh we'll see." And if someone decides to push, I can't be held responsible for what I say next. Remember I warned you.

NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: Honesty May Not Always Be The Best Policy

An author's note: This post was syndicated nationally
November 18, 2008
Honesty May Not Always Be The Best Policy
It has officially happened. I've started lying to my son, and to boot, manipulating him as well. In the past, I have sat on my moral mountain judging others for telling little white lies to their children. But that was before I became a Mom, and now, well now it is different, I have joined the ranks and become a teller of lies.
My husband Wally first noticed it and pointed it out to me the other night. Benjamin hurt his tooth and we were instructed by the dentist to feed him soft foods. Tired of pasta and soup, Ben wanted something else. I tried to give him some cod but when I asked him to try some "fish" I got a lot of head nodding, and not in the vertical direction but in the horizontal. Desperate for Ben to eat something, I told my innocent, unsuspecting child that the fish was something that he actually enjoyed. I told him the fish was a french fry. Next thing I knew, Ben was enjoying fish and even asking for more. Wally then commented, "are we now lying to our son?" Was I? Were we?
As I contemplated the question, I saw out of the corner of my eye Ben smiling after each bite of his fish -- a 20 month old was actually LOVING fish (or fries as Ben liked to think of them as). I didn't feel like getting into a moral match with my husband so I kept the answer simple and I said yes.
In addition to the french fry lie, I have also appealed to my son's sensitive side. Lately, if he sees that someone is upset or afraid. He will go right up to the person and rub their arm or leg or back (whatever body part is close at the time) and tell them it is "okay" in a soft gentle voice as he puts his head close to you. It is perhaps the sweetest thing I have ever seen and I will admit I have used this beautiful side of my son to get something I wanted done without a lot of the headache. Some may call this manipulation - I call it resourcefulness. As I tried to change his poopy filled diaper, he started yelling "no" and running around the coffee table. This has become a normal occurrence as of late and I am just tired of it. On occasion, I've tried to reason with him, "Mommy doesn't like to change smelly diapers either but who wants to sit in poop - I know I wouldn't." Usually, that approach gets a blank stare or more screams. Other times, I have grabbed him kicking and screaming and this just adds to everyone's frustration. This time around, I covered my face with my hands and started pretend crying. The next thing I knew I heard the pitter patter of little feet and pat on the back and "OK, OK" in the sweet innocent little voice. Yes, I am horrible but he sat very still while I changed his pants with no problem.
So if calling fish fries got him to eat the cod and pretend crying got his diaper changed without the drama, then how wrong could that be? I now believe one little white lie is canceled out by the good it can do for my son and others. I'm sure some parenting expert would tell me how wrong it is but for now I will tell my lies (within reason). I'm sure this will come to bite me in the butt but I'll wait until that happens.