Select One . . . REALLY!!!!

So, I am about to make some assumptions here and correct me if I am wrong . . .

1) I think everyone knows that I am the legal/medical advocate for a rape crisis center

and

2) No one wants to be a victim of a crime

Pretty safe assumptions I would say.

So right now I am in the Citizens Police Academy with the Dubuque Police Department. It is a great group made up of business owners, interested citizens, DHS and Riverview employees, and recruits in the process of applying to the force. Last night one member of the group came in with the following t-shirt:

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? And my fear is that this guy is one of the recruits looking to join the force. How can you look at this shirt and think it is appropriate? It reinforces the victim blaming that goes on in our society each and every day. And this victim blaming is part of the reason that sexual abuse and domestic violence are so prevalent. If I am a sexual assault victim and someone tells me that I have become a victim because of what I was wearing, who I was with, what time of night I was out, because I was drinking, or, as this shirt implies, because I didn't have a gun . . . WHY WOULD THEY CONTINUE TO SEEK HELP? And in domestic violence cases, it sends the victim right back where she came from because she can't get away!

Really, I don't mean to yell. It just infuriates me that people put on these shirts, thinking it makes a statement about gun control when the statement it makes is that the wearer is an insensitive bastard!

Whew! OK, I am all better now :)

Shame On You

Man's best friend. Isn't that what we call the dogs that share our hearts, our beds and sometimes our shoes? I know mine are part of my family. We have Vegas, who we got on Valentines Day the year after we got married. Vegas is a 5 year old Boxer. Then we have Maverick, our 3 year old shepherd/doberman mix. They give me a feeling of safety when I am home alone at night. They make me smile when I want to cry, and when I am sick or hurt, they are the first to lay their heads on my lap for a snuggle. And the bond that pets have with children is so immense.

So why in God's name do people treat these pets like garbage to be tossed aside? Don't even get me started on the people who neglect or injure their pets for sport? Michael Vick doesn't want to meet me in a dark alley . . . or my dogs either. Everyone knows those people are trash. I cry every time I see that ASPCA commercial on TV asking for donations. But what I am really talking about is your every day citizen who doesn't have the decency to help an animal in need.

This morning at 6:30 am, Bobby and I were awakened by a frightening phone call from his sister. Their dog, Reno, a black german shepherd, had just been hit by a truck in front of their house. Our nephew had witnessed it. They needed help moving him off the side of the road and getting him to a vet.

The damn truck that hit Reno didn't even have the decency to stop. It wasn't the driver's fault that he hit the dog . . . Reno took off after something and ran into the street. But have the decency to stop and check on the animal, or try to locate it's owners. Instead, my SIL was stuck trying to move her pet off the road with the help of her two boys as numerous other vehicles whizzed by. No one stopped to help her, most cars didn't even slow down for her safety or that of the kids. And while this was going on, Reno was yelping in pain as his owners tried to help him.

Shame on all those people who were too caught up in their own lives to stop and help this animal. What message did you teach those boys? That no one cares about anyone but themselves! Not a good lesson to be teaching on a Friday morning, in my opinion.

Unfortunately, Reno passed away shortly before we were able to get there to help. They moved him to the porch and covered him with a blanket so when the bus came by, the kids who lived nearby wouldn't see him lying there. They had the decency, even in this tough time, to think about others. But as we stood there on the front porch, looking at Reno lying there covered in one of the boy's blankets, Zach came out of the house with Reno's toy and laid it beside him. So to the driver who thought this dog didn't matter . . . he mattered to this family!

Why babies are better than gold . . .

I have come to the conclusion that cute, chubby babies should be found at the end of the rainbow, not pots of gold.

Why you ask? Because babies will make you smile for a lifetime, and gold can sometimes just mess things up. You have to share it, and spend it, or save it . . . too many decisions. But a baby just wants you to talk and cuddle . . . so much easier. What brings me to this conclusion . . . the birth of my beautiful niece, Adyson, and an evening spent with our little buddy, Brock.

I have two nephews that entered my life when I started dating Bobby. When we started dating, Zach was only 4 months old and Jacob was 4. It is inconceivable to me where the time went, because now Zach is almost 9 and Jacob is practically a teenager. So not only is it nice to have a baby in the family again, but the fact that it is a girl just tops the list!

Adyson Lynn Pollard was born March 5, 2010 at 7:24 pm and weighed 7 lbs, 7 ozs and was 21 inches long. Spending last Friday night looking at her cutie patootie face right after she was born, and then cuddling a bit more with her on Saturday is enough to make all the world's problems seem so small. I can't wait to go out there tonight to do a bit more cuddling! Here is a picture of my beautiful new niece:















Saturday night, we got to spend the evening with our friends' Chris and Mandy , and their new son, Brock. Brock and Adyson already have a bit of an arranged relationship :) I have the most adorable picture of Bobby and Brock that melts my heart.


I am always amazed at the timing of events that happen. I was starting to get so discouraged in our attempts to become parents that I was seriously starting to consider giving up. Not quitting, just finding a way to be happy with my life the way that it is, without children. And then I held Adyson, and held Brock, and I realized that I could never be happy with giving up. And that picture of Bobby and Brock just melts my heart . . . how can I not do everything in my power to make that man a daddy! Will there maybe come a day when I have to look at the facts and make other decisions . . . of course?! But I can't see there being a day when I can say, "I am happy not being a mother."

Karma is a B!@#$!

Anyone who has ever dealt with infertility has heard the following statesments:

"Everything happens for a reason."

"God has a plan for everyone, we just don't always know what it is."

"It will happen."

"What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger."

"God never gives us more than we can handle."

And my favorite . . .

"If it is meant to be, it will be."

My response to these over the years has admittedly gotten increasingly sarcastic. I used to be polite and say "thanks" or "I know." Now I want to look at the person and say, "Really? What reason does God have for allowing someone to get pregnant after 3 years of trying, tease them with the baby for 11 weeks, and then make it die? How does that make me stronger?" Ok, maybe that was harsh, but honestly, these comments are not helpful.

The reason they aren't helpful is that more than half of them have to do with KARMA. Implying that if those of suffering from fertility issues were better people, it would have happened for us already. I'll remember that when I pass the 13 year old who is 9 months pregnant at the store (Not that she isn't deserving, just that it shouldn't be her time). Or when I see the drug addict at Walmart screaming at her 3 kids at 1 am because they are whining and want to go home (um, hello, they are probably TIRED). Somehow I don't think that they were gifted with beautiful children because of their superior goodness to all mankind.

In my office at work hangs a sign about karma. It says

People pay for what they do,
and still more,
for what they have allowed themselves to become.
And they pay for it simply;
through the lives they lead.

It is difficult to be an advocate at a rape crisis center and sit in court listening to some attorney defending a man who has committed sexual abuse against his own young children. I don't understand sometimes how that attorney can sleep at night, or go home and look at their own kids. For a paycheck? I get that it is a job, but what if that perpetrator then abused their kids . . .is it just a paycheck then? So in order to be able to continue to function and make it through each work day, I have to brush these people aside and figure that KARMA will catch up with them later.

On the flip side, I have seen good things happen to good people. I have to believe that through the work that I do, the people that I help, and the life that I lead . . . good things will happen for me too! So many good things have already happened!

3 Decades Already

30 . . . .30 . . . . 30! Why does that number sound so old? I don't feel that old. Remember when you were little and 30 sounded like the biggest number in the world.

Thoughts on turning 30:

1) I love being married. I don't miss dating at all. I don't miss looking for that person that is "the one." I don't miss the jealousy or the drama. But I found my love when I was least expecting it, and when I wasn't looking. But damn if he didn't sneak into my heart. What I do miss is that young love . . . where you just can't get enough of each other. But I think Bobby and I have done a pretty good job of finding our way back to that place from time to time.

2) Almost 6 years together without kids isn't all that bad. We have done lots of fun things. We don't have to look for, or pay, babysitters. We go out on the river and camping in the summer, we take the motorcycle for rides, or we can just sleep in late and curl up in our jammies during the cold winter. We have had a lot of time to be US.

3) I am pretty proud of myself. I have worked hard to get where I am in my career. I have a career, not just a job. And even better, my career makes a huge difference in somebody's life almost every day. I also feel like I do a pretty good job at it. I try to constantly educate myself and look for solutions to the problems that my clients face. But yet I have so far managed to do it without cynicism that one would expect . . . I am optimistic that one day our vision of a society free from sexual violence can be reached!

4) My parents are proud of me. Who doesn't want to reach 30 and realize that all the crap you put them through as a teenager has melted away and left them thinking they did a pretty awesome job? I know I wasn't always an easy kid, but I always knew my parents and family loved me. And through my journey with infertility, no matter what other obstacles there were, I always knew that I could call them and they would be there!

5) I am one kick-ass aunt! 2 nephews I got when I married Bobby, a niece on the way from my brother and SIL and the children of my closest friends who think I am pretty cool most of the time. Isn't it great when a little bit comes running up to you all excited? It can make even the darkest day seem pretty special!

6) Friends are the family you choose along the way. Wholeheartedly, 100%, believe this to be true. I have friends that I can bicker with, fight with, get irritated and annoyed at (just like family) and still know that if shit hits the fan, they have my back and visa versa. Some of my best friends have come from unexpected places (MP blogs!) and have helped me get through the darkest times.

7) No matter what, my grandpa is always my best friend! Not a day goes by that I don't want him here with me. He was my best friend from the day I was born, and will be for life. He doesn't have to physically be here for him to be my biggest source of light! More on him later . . .

That's who I am . . . .

Welcome to my blog! I have thought and thought about how I wanted to do this. How do I tell my story? Do I have anything to say that other people would actually care to read? Am I funny enough, witty enough, to have a blog? Finally I decided to go for it. I decided I do have a story to tell.

My journey in patience began in June of 2004, one month after marrying my wonderful husband, Bobby. We decided to throw all those pill packets in the garbage, and see what life had in store for us. You guessed it! We wanted to be parents.

Growing up, when someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told them I wanted to be a mommy. Don't most little girls? No one ever shatters the dreams of a 6 year old and tells them that becoming a mommy might be the hardest journey they ever embark on. Then the little girl hits 16, and she sees classmates or neighbors becoming pregnant at young ages . . . "Not me," she thinks to herself, "I want a husband first." So she falls in love, finds her husband, and decides to take the next step. Only then does she learn that being a mommy doesn't come easy to everyone.

16 months into our quest to become parents, we decided to seek out help. They tested both myself and Bobby. The news came back pretty good . . . "All the tests look ok," said the doc. "Try for another 6 months." So we did. Nothing. After many tests, procedures, a miscarriage and enough poking and prodding in my vajayjay for a lifetime, we still fall into the "Unexplained Infertility" catagory.

Until the word INFERTILITY falls from the sky and hits you in the head, it seems that "those" people belong to a small, isolated club. There is some shame that comes at first . . . how stupid do we have to be that we can't even get ourselves pregnant. 14 year olds are doing it, why can't we? So you don't talk about it, you dodge the questions from well-meaning family and friends, and you put on your "happy face" for those around you. But once you start to open up, you hear about it more and more . . .two co-workers, the daughter of another co-worker, friends of Bobby's. Then you dig deeper and you find websites and chat rooms devoted to supporting people going through fertility treatments.

So that is what made me decide to start a blog. I don't need to feel ashamed, and neither does my husband. We didn't do anything wrong. We aren't stupid. We need help, just like millions of other people seek out help for medical problems every year.

So here I am . . . 5.5 years into my journey, one miscarriage under my belt, one angel baby in Heaven being watched over by my grandpa, and not afraid to be the one that stands up and says, "Hello, my name is Dawn, and I struggle with infertility."