Sunday, October 18, 2015

Cinema Sunday ‒ Wadjda


Being a work widow while my husband is working mandatory overtime, I needed something to focus on instead of allowing myself to feel lonely. Indulging in my preference for foreign films, Cinema Sunday will be time to spoil myself. Today, I watched the 2013 movie Wadjda, written by the first female Saudi Arabian director, Haifaa al-Mansour.

The movie starts off at an all-girls school, where they are singing parts of the Quran. We get to meet Wadjda, an only child, in pursuit to get a bike of her own. For those who do not know, Saudi women and other Islamic females do not take part in exercises that may damage the hymen. Wadjda doesn’t realize this or care why; she is relentless in her pursuit. Women to this day are not allowed drive a car in Saudi Arabia.


Wadjda starts to save money to save for a brand new green bike. Some of how she gets raises money for this bike is questionable by her cultures standards ‒ "haram", or forbidden if you will. She makes and sells soccer team bracelets, exchanges notes between unmarried couples, pretends to cry are all part of her undertakings to raise money. Her act has not fooled her schoolmaster, who is on to her shenanigans. She soon enters a Quran reciting contest for prize money. Her skills are doubtful, but the instructors encourage her on. They hope this is more a reform of her urge. 


Her parent’s love each other but we learn through phone conversations is that her father’s mother wants him to take a second wife. This is culturally acceptable in Saudi Arabia. There is no question that Wadjda’s mother is not happy about sharing her husband. Wadjda is an only child; her mother cannot have more because she almost died in childbirth as we learn in the film. So the paternal grandmother pressures her father to conceive a son through a second wife. Heck men get pressure about infertility too. And how many wives would any man really want if they are fully enamored with another? Secondary infertility is just as devastating and is no less a disease. In the Islamic faith, many of the medical options for infertility are not acceptable or “haram”. 

In the end, if you are not going to see the movie, Wadjda’s mother is devastated by the marriage of her beloved husband to another woman. She realizes that her greatest love is Wadjda. If you are going to see the movie, that is wonderful and I didn’t ruin the ending for you. Director Haifaa al-Mansour is also adapting this into a book if that is more your style.


Women, no matter where they are in the world have the same dreams that we take for granted. Things we don’t question such as driving, riding a bike, taking a fresh breath of air without a veil, and last but not least, and treatment for infertility. I’m going to make my life count for them, with or without children.

© All original content copyright Nancy De Lazzaro Brannum, 2013-2015

Monday, October 5, 2015

Man on Clomid


Since playing a medical baby roulette, my husband and I are trying a different approach to the same old IUI (Intrauterine Insemination). We are taking a two to three month break as he goes back to his urologist to see what we can do to boost numbers. We are also trying some new vitamins (FertileAid®, OvuBoost®, DEHA). 

However, those are not what I am discussing today. Today is about being hormonal or rather, him being hormonal. After two years of hearing about other husbands on Clomid (clomiphene citrate) through online support groups, we finally had his new Kaiser urologist suggest it. A big shout out to my TTC Facebook groups. This is experimental and has been successful in increasing sperm production. His doctor ordered a before and after analysis to see for any improvement. Of course, I will post the results when this happens. Only time will tell. He has pulled the “I’m hormonal” card though. 

Now I have been on Clomid – a lot of Clomid. Above the recommended dose and enough to induce hot flashes.  When I was on Clomid, my husband did not notice any significant mood swings, grumpy, or emotional changes. Work was a different story. As I shared my experience with coworkers, it backfired. I was suddenly the only woman around with a period and who could possibly be PMSing. My husband was the one who pointed this out by the way.  I came home from work crying because everyone said I was hormonal. Mind you, he knew the women I worked with from helping with maintenance.  He noticed that the girls blaming me for every situation. Now the tables have turned and my lovely hubby is on Clomid. We do not know the side effects yet but maybe now we will not argue over watching a chick flick or just wanting a hug. 
 
© All original content copyright Nancy De Lazzaro Brannum, 2013-2015