You know, as you’re lying there crying, miserable, tired, depressed, telling me how selfish I am for denying you donor sperm, telling me that you’ll never feel a baby kick inside you, that we’ll never have those experiences.. I’m listening to you and I’m wondering why this fate was assigned to me. Before I (Me, the soul) came to this planet and and was still in the Barzakh http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barzakh was assigned to this body, I’m wondering ‘why me?’

Why was I, up there in the Barzakh, placed in this body, with these parents, in this country, in this continent, on this planet? Why was I placed in this race?
why did I have these relatives? These friends? These problems? Why was I born sterile?

Why has this fate been placed on my shoulders? This problem that you’re experiencing, this need for donor sperm.. isn’t unique to you. This problem will be shared by all women that I’m with. Every single woman, girlfriend or wife will eventually ask me the same question as you. Until I find a woman who either already has children, doesn’t want children, or can’t have children herself. That’s the type of demographic that my life has to revolve around. that’s my destiny, my fate.

And I understand the miracle of life. It’s not called a miracle for nothing – it’s THE miracle of life. Anyone can watch National Geographic: in the womb, to truly understand the magnificence of the process of falling procreation, not just in humans, but all life in general – in animals, plants. Life is Amazing. The variety is amazing. And I don’t expect you to give it up. I CAN’T expect you to give it up.

And the thing is, I’ve accepted it. I’m at peace with my creator. When we got married I vowed I’d stick to the straight path, and never veer off again. And I thought you shared the goal, the same thoughts, of reaching that fluffy pink cloud in the sky, on which angels sing and dance like there’s no tomorrow – because there IS no tomorrow. But now I see that you DON’T share that vision, that goal. That you Can’t live without children, and that you’re willing to break whatever rules need to be broken to have children.
So if you can’t life without children, and from the looks of it I see that you can’t, then I can’t be a part of your life any more – because you’re in effect being driven to commit sin (even though the choices you make are your own) and being driven by me. So I must remove myself, I must make halaal what is not. I must free you so you can have children with another man. I must divorce you. I just can’t allow you to do donor sperm..

The only option left is to get a divorce.

no no… listen… listen to me. let me finish…

The thing is… I’ve come to peace with it. So much so that I myself don’t understand it… and I’m going to say something.

I’ll probably sound crazy for saying it but I’m going to anyway……
…

LA ILLA HA ILALLAH, MUHAMADUR RASOOLULLAH.
(there is one god called Allah, Muhamad is his messenger = the “Kallimah”, Muslim declaration of belief)

“

We both ended up crying after that…

On the masters front: I heard someone once say, getting your first degree is the best time of your life – but getting your masters is the worst. I don’t know how true that is but I for one can definitely agree with that. My masters is quite literally going down the drain. I just can’t find the strength to trudge through the stack of literature papers (I had to rewrite my litreview because my topic changed slightly). I seem to be much more interested in the company these days – there’s always so much exciting stuff going on; logo design, business cards (oOOoOO), mission statements, product packages, service catalogs, and I love it. it’s much more fun that slogging through a stack of papers writing that bloody litreview chapter. Anyway…

On the adoption front: I believe I wrote about how disappointed we (DW and I) were when we found out how “forgetful” Cape Town child welfare is. We got our call in Jan 2009 saying that we were accepted on the waiting list, and that CTCW would forward our profile to Durban (because CTCW’s Muslim waiting list was closed) so that we could source a child from Durban. But after two months (mid March) of checking the post everyday for our acceptance letter, we phoned Durban child welfare only to be told they never heard of us!! We phoned CTCW and they hadn’t bothered posting the acceptance letter, forwarding anything to Durban or even putting our names on the local list. So we were quite pi$$ed off. We made an appointment with Procare – a private adoption agency also based in Cape Town – and since then we’ve been busy with a scrap book and birth mother letter. On that front I’ll say that it’s been hard getting started with the scrapbook and letter: how does one ask the bmother oh so very nicely to please give us your baby… But we’ve started now and it looks like things are moving. DW gets quite moody when she sees how much more we have to do and that moodiness slows things down considerably. but anyhoo. I’m just glad we’re moving. I want DW to participate as much as possible in this process because I think It’ll help her get through this period of mourning.

On the marriage front: DW still isn’t through this period of mourning, understandably so. So things get a bit tense and heated when Aunt Flan comes. The significance of Aunt Flan coming is that no fertilization has occured, and that means no baby. Of course it’s going to take very long – if it’s possible at all -  to get over the idea that you might never carry a baby, so I don’t expect this be gone any time soon. We did make some progress, but I’m not going to reveal what happened on this front just yet. But things are looking a bit better now.

Anyway, I will write more when I can.

Cheers.

This rule is inspired from the most valuable resource available: experience. It’s often wished that experience could simply “rain” on a person, so that they wouldn’t actually experience the experience, but often that is not the case. But experience is still valuable, be it self-acquired or third party observation.

I woke up early yesterday morning to study, went to work normally, and when I got home yesterday I was simply point-blank EXHAUSTED. DW got home at 9am yesterday morning – she was on call that night. She, ofcourse, had the day off so she went out, did 1 or 2 errands and came home to sleep the rest of the day away (she didnt cook or clean and she said she hadn’t used the computer, so what else could she have done). And right there and then was a conflict of interest. When I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep. And all she wanted was attention. DW is selfish in that way. What irritated me was that as I lay in bed waiting for her to come and get the deed over and done with (yes, that’s how tired I was) she sat on facebook, gmail, fertilicare, whatever. by the time she got to bed I had dozed off. So ofcourse i’d be moody when she woke me up again 10 minutes later. A few minutes of bickering and she gave in with “alright, just go to sleep, I don’t have time for rude people”. so naturally I took full advantage and promptly rolled over and went back to sleep. Less than an hour later she woke me up again by quietly whispering my name every 5 minutes (with nothing else). Boy did I struggle to wake up. And when I did, was I cross or WHAT!? (lol). She didn’t engage anything – just lay there mumbling that she couldn’t sleep and she was thinking about having a baby.

“here we go again” I thought, and reminded her that we had a deal – that she would wait till the end of the year before reconsidering donor sperm. She retorted that if we did that, then I would divorce her.

And that makes me think she’s been reading my blogs, which is both good and bad at the same time. It’s good because we don’t talk face to face (I find it difficult) but because of the anonymity I can say things I wouldn’t normally say to someone. And that’s bad.

Anyway, I think women do things like that just to pi$$ their men off. I just lay awake for 10 minutes, and she fell asleep. And then I fell asleep too. And this morning everything was fine again. lol.

I don’t know….

DW was especially moody that morning. She was snappy at just about everything. We bickered over every little thing: The music was too loud, I was asking too many stupid questions, I was too cheerful, DW has a habit of adding her own lyrics into songs and that got me irritated, telling me I’m driving too fast, then too slow, then braking too hard. On the way back from the kramat I exploded after I switched the radio on and a song was too loud [really it wasn't my fault, the cd moved from a soft song to a loud song]….

I just couldn’t take it anymore. I threw a tantrum right there and then on the side of the road, refused to drive any further and sat sulking for a good 15 minutes before eventually driving further. I cut the rest of the day short (we were supposed to have lunch out) and went straight home. It was childish yes I know, but SOMEONE has to inform DW that she’s making my life miserable too.

It was obvious why she was moody – I knew long before we went, that she had a problem with it. But the thing is, her problem isn’t valid. We didn’t go to the kramat so that we could have a child. We went so that “we could be granted what is ours either now or later in time, and if we aren’t granted what we want, then we find acceptance and make peace with what we have”. That’s all.

I was very happy to pray for that… I would have had a problem praying for a child. I brought this up some time before in a post “hope vs acceptance” in which one stops hoping for things that aren’t in your destiny and learns to accept the good that is already there or is yet to come. But I was happy about going to the kramat.

But DW wasn’t. It’s like she missed the boat. She thought everything was child-related when it wasn’t….

So anyway. we made up and made love later that evening. She asked me what sort of relationship we have? I think we have a love-hate relationship. I love her so much but hate that I’m hurting her so. And she; She hates the fact that she loves me so much?

But one thing is certain – we need to see a counsellor…

I don’t know if I’ve accepted my fate or if I’m still hoping… I suppose two different parts of me wants either – the left and right side of my brain.

I’ve got a father in law that’s telling me to pray and believe it’ll happen…. maybe not now, but some time, perhaps after we adopt – we just have to believe and to believe with sincerity and to never lose faith and hope.

But I know what hope does to a person who wants something. Hope turns into despondency and then depression when you don’t get what you want. Logically, acceptance is the best way to go and then push hope into the back of your mind so that you can think positively again. ??

It depends on what is in your future, doesn’t it? What if you’re not “meant to” have children and you’re just a spoilt brat that wants to satisfy your ego and be “normal” like all other animals (homo sapien-sapiens too).

??

If you accept your condition and carry on living your life and trying to make do and thus having a positive attitude with a solid foundation of what you have and what you don’t have…. perhaps that’s the way to go?

I don’t know… maybe it depends on how much you want to be “normal” ?

I don’t know what to do or say any more. I’ve tried to take the high road by insisting we stick to religious foundations but….

Due to lack of time and energy, I can’t review the views of the various Islamic authorities here, but I will quote from a site or two on the topic of donor sperm/egg and IVF:

http://sweetness-light.com/archive/muslim-clerics-you-can-marry-your-adopted-child

has what is generally the accepted view of adoption, ivf and donor sperm/egg in Islam. it lists summaries from various sources. here is a quote from the website.
“- When couples are unable to have children by natural means or artificial insemination, they can choose to adopt children. But to register those children under their names, making them beneficiaries of their inheritance is against religion (Islam).

- When the adopted children reach puberty – and as they are of no blood relation to the parents – marrying with them becomes lawful according to Islam. Therefore, according to Islam it is not permissible for the mother to be alone with a male adopted child, and for the father to be alone with the female adopted child in any place, at any time.

- Infertility may be the result of some disorder and to seek medical remedy and cure is the couple’s duty. When this does not help, in vitro fertilization becomes permissible – but only when the sperm and the egg of the couple is used. Using donor sperm or egg is forbidden in Islam. If they cannot succeed in fertilization with their own (sperm and egg) the couple must accept the divine providence and live without children, in obedience to their faith.”

Sweetness-light.com goes on to describe Islamic views on fostering and inter-religion fostering or adoption. Another quote from the site that sums up the islamic standpoint (and is in my view an excellent quote) is this: “In effect, all adoption is forbidden under Islam. All that is really allowed is a weird kind of ‘foster care.’”

But coming back to DW and myself. I don’t know how to deal with DW’s yearning to be pregnant. At this juncture, the Islamic view favours me, because I personally don’t like the idea of donor sperm. DW’s yearning is so strong that she’s willing to go against the guidance of Islam and go the donor sperm route. That in itself speaks volumes about her faith and conviction in her religion. That said, I’m not the most pious person around – but I’ve done enough wrong to know better. In an Islamic society, the “crimes” I’m guilty of are punishable by death. And I’ve got my head straight now – so I don’t want to even consider donor sperm.

But I couldn’t tell DW that…… it’s becoming more and more clear that the best thing for me to do is to divorce DW and set her free to be with another man who can impregnate her. That would be the Honourable thing to do. It’d stop her from commiting shirk (sin) by going the donor sperm route, and it’d give her the chance to be a mother to her own children, and to be happy . And me? well, it’s not about me anymore.

I managed to comfort her by asking her to wait till the end of the year before considering donor sperm again. She agreed and that subdued her to some extent. But I can see she’s unhappy.. I think waiting the year out will give the adoption agency a chance to find a “solution” to our problem. I hope that by the end of the year, we’ll have a child – adopted or naturally (yes, I’m still hoping – and that too is tearing me apart). But if not, and if she hasn’t come to peace with the idea, then I will divorce her. Because I can’t… I just can’t – I refuse to! I refuse to sin further. And if she persists, then she is not for me.

yes, I might seem hard and cold as I write this, but I am very unhappy. And no – she is not worth commiting suicide for. So FUCK that idea. So that is my next year’s resolution – that this “issue” will, in some form or another, be concluded and I will know my future.

Apparently you get your father’s eyes? So those eyes are going to be very naughty….

I’ve really been chowing down the droewors – literally – I’ve been nibbling on it whole day. In fact, whole WEEK. First I tried beef droewors…. it was ok, but not amazing. Then I tried kudu droewors – that was pretty nice. I liked it a lot. And I’ve been nibbling on dried mango and, dried guava and pistachio nuts. Today I decided I wanted something new – springbok droewors. I bought R40 worth – which was supposed to last whole day, but I guzzled it up by lunch time. With the R20′s worth of dried mango. That was my breakfast, brunch and lunch. I decided I didn’t like the springbok droewors, so I guzzled it up and went back at lunch time for more kudu droewors. In total – for today – I spent R80 on droewors and R40 on dried mango.  Fruit and Veg must make a mint off me in biltong and dried fruit sales.

When I mentioned that I’d had so much food, I got a comment: “are you depressed? you’re comfort eating.”
That was said by the second person and it was said today. The first time was by someone just before christmas. I posted a blog about being the designated driver and not being able to “let go”

We had a family outing yesterday – it was a sunny day here in Cape Town and I’ll be damned if I sat indoors whole day. It was pleasant. The more time I spend around children the more I realise that I WANT CHILDREN. I WANT A SON! and I WANT A DAUGHTER! I want to have children. I want to have a family, and I want to play with my children!

I don’t want to be depressed – I really want to let this go and be happy and GO FOR IT! We’re on the waiting list for adoption, I’ve GOT to finish my masters this year, I wanna start LIFE! What do I have to do get “OVER IT!?”

Another thing is. I’m not hungry. I’m not craving any food. Granted I have stuffed myself silly already on droewors,  but surely if one comfort eats then one must eat regardless of whether he/she is hungry or not? I don’t know!

Here are some pictures of Abdallah, Shamsiyah and DW (in the bride’s maid dress)

… And the other people at the workshop (other couples) was the wall. Particularly, those that were in my group during the role play. And yes. We had another role-play session.

The theme for this role-play session was “telling your adopted child that he/she is adopted”. Where our groupings in workshop 1 was random (based on where we sat in the circle), the groupings now were pre-decided.  Either the social workers thought about groupings that would place most conflicting personalities together (that’s the cynic in me talking ), or they just tried to place us with people we weren’t with in the workshop 1.

Lets talk about my group first. Other members of my group were: 1 other male, and two females. Our scenario was: (our scenario wasn’t worded clearly, and the social workers admitted that there were multiple interpretations and that they would amend the card at a later stage) We are a family of 4, with two adopted children who know they’re adopted but have just started asking questions about physical differences (my interpretation is that the children would be in the 3-6 years age group) and one of the questions they would ask is: “why do we have two mummies/daddies” (two possible interpretations: parents are gay, or children are referring to their birth parents as well as adoptive parents).

This could/should be an easy scenario and having done well in the first roleplay, this should have been a breeze. Except it wasn’t. And I say that it’s because of the people in the group – this is where our conflicting personalities came in. The two ladies in the group JUMPED that they wanted to be the children. I could rant about how childish I thought they were but I’m not going to. All I’ll say on that matter is that I ended up very irritated with them and quite not-in-the-mood. Particularly because that Forced the scenario to have us (me and the other guy) as the parents. And on top of that, it forced us to be gay.

And I was just not able to get into that. (lol) I am just not able to imagine myself gay, firstly, and secondly, that as a gay couple I would sit my children down to give them details about their adoption and tell them, in our case, why they have two FATHERS, instead of a mummy. (LOL) How does one explain to a 5 year old child that daddy just prefers holding hands and kissing other daddies. ??????????????????

???????????????????????

*complete mental block*

Needless to say, we had DW and the rest of the class (particularly since there WAS A GAY COUPLE PRESENT THERE IN THE WORKSHOP WATCHING US) in stitches. Did I mention that I acted across one member of the gay couple in the previous role-play? And that he was the “wife”?

–
I’m not homophobic. If a gay couple walked into the room I’d be completely fine with it and probably not even notice anything out of the ordinary – that is, if they acted Normally. If they acted gay (holding hands, kissing etc), I get grossed out very quickly.
–

I could hardly talk during that role-play – that’s how completely mind-boggled I was.
Coming back to my own role-play, the “children” started asking very “adult” questions, and that made it even harder to get into the spirit of it. 4-year old children should ask 4-year old questions and not 20-year old questions.

DW was in a scenario where she was married to someone and they were telling their 18 year old son that he’s adopted. There were other scenarios, all along the same theme. In another someone was telling their 4 year old that they were adopted. In the last, there were two (grownup) brothers who had just found out they were adopted and their parents died before telling them, and they were sitting on stage talking to each other about it. All in all, it was an educational experience.

I think that one needs to have an open mind especially to role-play and place yourself in other people’s situations. One thought that comes out of it is how difficult it must be for Everyone to tell their adopted child that they’re adopted. If one can walk away with that in mind – and not how wierd it would be for GAY couples to tell their children they’re adopted – then one has got a valuable lesson. I learned alot about how open people’s minds really are. Most people found it difficult to get into the roleplays in both the first and second workshops, some people even admitting so as an excuse for their “dim” performance. I was shocked that I would produce such a poor performance, moreso because I went in to it expecting the best day possible. I left the workshop in a state of shock and the rest of the day was a daze. In fact, I haven’t written about the rest of the workshop (after the roleplay we had a circle discussion) because I hardly remember what it was about. I’ll write more as I remember it.

It could be argued that role-play scenarios should be customized for the group that’s performing the role-play. I don’t think a scenario involving gays (like mine) should be given to people who have problems with the idea of being gay. It might have been more beneficial if the gay couple acted out the gay scenario. The otherside of that coin is that if performed in a group enviroment with an audience watching, the audience would benefit by seeing what other people might have to go through, and .. some how the “that doesn’t apply to me” factor would be reduced.

Thank you for reading this far. I apologize that I ended weakly, My thoughts on this workshop are still a bit muddled. I should go get some sleep now before work.

see: Child Welfare, workshop 1

Some details have been left out in an effort to further anonymize the people involved.

Me:Endometriosis, 1 blocked tube
Hubby:Low Morph.
TTCed for 4 years
2nd AI April 05-BFP m/c at 5.5weeks
4th medicated cycle Oct 05 -BFP beautiful baby girl July 06
Now TTCing over 2 years for no2
8 medicated cycles Jan to Jul 08 – BFNs
2 AIs Aug/Sept 08 – BFNs
IVF Oct 08 -BFP but then low progesterone. 2nd bloodtest BFN
FET Jan or Feb 09

(MY) Analysis: trying to conceive for 4 years before having a miscarriage at 5.5 weeks. Then after 4 cycles of medication, they gave birth to a daughter.. then tried to conceive for another 2 years, 8 medicated cycles, 2 artificial inseminations both resulting in BIG FAT NEGATIVES… and still more treatment planned for 2009.

Wow. that’s quite a story! And it’s flipping depressing isnt it. What do people have to do to have children, how many children do people want, why do people want children at all? In this day and age, do people still want big families with lots of children or is two enough? How about one? In the above story, one is not enough – they want another one. And they’re prepared to do just about anything to have it. If they have this second one, will they want a third?

Are we lucky then? That our situation is so bad (and our religion bars us from some avenues) that our only option is adoption? Is our religion our saviour from going the above route – endless heartbreak of trying to and failing to conceive?

I used to think I’d get on just fine without children. I had this vision of being some sort of badboy in a mean leather jacket and pants on a bad-ass looking motorbike, making out with women in clubs with no remorse (that song “heartbreaker” is about ME). I thought – up until very recently – that would be my destiny. That, after our divorce we would go separate ways and I would live my life as a bad-ass biker dude…. We (DW and I) went through a rough patch after we got the bad news… I think the rough patch was only in my head – DW seems to be sticking through thick and thin. And things seem to be getting better emotionally. Doesn’t look like there’s a divorce on the cards… so maybe I’m not going to end up that leather-clad biker heartbreaker.

Now that we’re making progress with the adoption, I’m having thoughts of actually having a family. To have a wife, with kids… and the dogs, cat, budgies and fish. In that little house on a farm. I can’t imagine life with only 1 child. I want 4. I’m sure we’ll be allowed to adopt 4 children? The pitter-patter of little feet running through the house, the boys pulling the girls hair and the girls teasing the boys. And I’m quite the disciplinarian, so every day after school, it’ll be 1 hr for sports, 1 hr for madressa, 2 hrs for homework and then only can they get on to a “normal” evening. One child??? NO WAYS! I WANT FOUR! Atleast! or three…. but I’m not going to grow old with just 1. I don’t know what I want anymore…

There was this advert a while ago.. it inspired me very much when I went through a difficult time during university. It showed the Toyota Condor Tx 4X4 Turbo Diesel model, parked next to a lake. Getting their things out of the car was a man and his wife (I think they were setting up a tent), a young boy leashing up the dog, an older girl riding her bike, and an even older boy (late teens) suiting up in his scuba gear. That’s what I want.

And if I can’t have that, then I want the BATMAN Bruce Wayne life……

And if I can’t have that , then I want to be a muslim sheik living in Japan, learning ching-chong WhooOOOhEEAAHOOOHHOAAOOOEWWWWEEWWWWWWWW”

You see? I have no idea what I really want. I cut out the condor advert and stuck it in my scrapbook. On the next page I had pictures of models I’d dream of DOING. Quite conflicting scrapbook it must have been. After I graduated I discarded that book…

So what is our story then? bad? good? no repetitious clomid cycles, no icsi, no donor sperm, no ai, none of that stuff. cut and dried, like biltong, simple. I think I should stop being depressed – really! I have no reason anymore. It’s 2009 now, the start of a new year – time to pick up and move on. And yes, I want those children – just one for now, but dear social workers, know that I’ll be back for MORE. >:-D