A Tribute To Bamberlamb

Today I am wearing purple. It's St. Patrick's Day and I usually wear green, but today was Bamberlamb's funeral and she loved purple. I've been thinking about her all day. My life is so much better because I got to know her just a tiny bit.

Bamberlamb wrote the blog called It's Inconceivable where I learned so much. I got to be on several different zoom calls with her too, and she was even funnier and feistier "in person" than she was in writing. She lived life out loud. She was unapologetic, and she knew how to have fun.

Bamberlamb was childless not by choice and she wrote very honestly about her experiences. 

She taught me that I'm not alone. At a time when I felt all alone, long before I realized how common the loneliness and isolation of infertility can be, I had her blog to read. 

She taught me to invest in worthy relationships. Not all relationships are worthy, but the ones that are, are definitely worth investing in.

She taught me to think ahead about aging. She had so many good ideas and plans in place.

Most importantly, she taught me to do what I want. She explicitly told me that if there is an activity that I enjoy that is separate from all of the family/kid-centered stuff in society to go out and do that. And to do it a lot! I'm always saying that we deserve to enjoy our lives, and I learned it from Bamberlamb.

What an incredible woman. We are all better for her existence. 

May she rest in peace, power, and irreverent profanity!

Bamberlamb loved to ride her motorbike. 

Although the woman in this drawing looks a little older, 

I think this picture captures a bit of Bamberlamb's essence. 

💜💜💜

(You can purchase the image here.)

Mid-March/The Rules Have Changed

When I was married, March was my least favorite month. My ex-husband is a huge sports fan and March Madness had a way of dictating our entire schedule for the month. In all honesty though, that wasn't any different from the other 11 months. Sports always dictated our schedule. And considering all we did was go to sports games and the sports bar, it never really changed. Sigh... But I digress...

Now I can go two whole weeks in March before I even remember that a bunch of guys in college are playing a lot of basketball this month. It's wonderful. 

Nothing against basketball, I just didn't like always coming after sports (and work and money and beer). I wanted to feel more like a priority in our marriage. Again, I'm digressing... Maybe with the 10th anniversary of my last IVF coming up and the 6th anniversary of my divorce next month I am feeling a little reflective...

But with time, the pain of some things decreases. With time, the memories of some things fade. And that's okay. When my brain prunes negative experiences from my past, I am fine with that.

Because here is the thing: I have spent ONE-THIRD of my life grieving. 

Holy shit.

I just realized that yesterday.

One-third is a huge portion of my life. 

I don't fault myself for it. I didn't choose to spend 15 years grieving. But that's what it took for me to process losing my children. 

I never got to meet them or hold them. They never got to physically exist outside my body, but I thought about them my entire life. I have always loved my children. And in my heart I know their names. I know what I would've named my boy and I know what I would've named my girl. Those are the names I think of when I think of my children that didn't get to be with me in this lifetime.

A lot of people would probably be surprised to learn that I still think about my children. I'm sure many people would think, or even say, "You're not over that yet?" Those people are short-sighted and emotionally stunted. 

No, it is not a consolation for me to be able to travel or sleep in or do whatever everyone else can do when they are outside of the formative child-raising years. (Seriously! You're only actively parenting for 15 - 20 years. Turns out, parents can sleep in and travel too!)

However, one thing that is different is I absolutely refuse to kill myself for a job. 

I will no longer work for free. (Maybe that sounds obvious to you--who would work for free? But the majority of my jobs have included soooo much unpaid labor. I will never ever do that again.) I am not providing for my children, and I only have to take care of myself. I don't have to work 40+ hours a week, commuting 10+ hours and coming home exhausted only to work more for free. 

I have to make enough to pay my mortgage, insurances, home/car maintenance, and monthly bills. That is still a lot of money that I require every year but I don't have to give up all of my down time to make it. For me, not having kids means I don't have to work long hours for little pay.

Instead, I work as little as possible. Ha!

Don't get me wrong. I like to work. I actually love to work. But maybe a part of being middle-aged is feeling so tired after working so much for so long for so little.

And, for me, another part of it is I have been doing caregiving jobs since I was a teenager. I've written about it before, but caregiving jobs demand a lot without giving much back. They are awesome and rewarding, but I am learning they are not sustainable. My part-time job at the family-owned business where I work is saving me from burnout so I can keep working my other part-time job that involves intense caregiving.

What is this post even about? 😂

I guess I'm sharing more changes I've experienced from enduring infertility and living involuntarily childless. The rules I grew up with no longer apply. I need different things from relationships and my jobs than other people on a more normative path. I'm only beginning to see how these different needs of mine affect other people's perceptions of me.

But I finally don't care about other people's opinions. They don't know my life at all. They don't make an effort to learn and they are very quick to judge. I'm over it.

(And since this is such a random, rambling post... Here's another random thing! Remember the acquaintance who asked if I wanted to see a picture of her new grandbaby after I had texted her preemptively to request she not send me any baby pictures? I saw her last week. And the first thing she did was shove her phone in my line of sight and show me several baby pictures. Thankfully, it didn't hurt. It only pissed me off. How rude.)

Ok, The End. Hahahaha. To recap: I enjoy the month of March a lot more since I've been divorced. I've spent one-third of my life grieving. Grief has changed me. One of those changes is I refuse to live a life where I just work and then collapse at home at the end of the day. Most people don't understand me or my life. And a lot of people are just thoughtless and clueless.

Now... Go do something fun! It doesn't have to be big or expensive. Just do something you like.

You deserve to enjoy your life. 💜

I found the quote above here when searching for "misunderstood" images online.

Unimaginable Good & Bad

Well, here we are... wherever this is. 

The calendar says March 2025 so there's that. 

January and February flew by in a haze of work and home repairs. Work was hard but good. I like my jobs. Coordinating and paying for the home repairs was not a lot of fun, but I'm grateful there were parts available and labor to do the work. I am relieved to have several big To-Do items off my list. So that's what took up all of my head space for the last two months.

And that brings me to March. March 2025. But I think I already mentioned that. ;)

...It's hard to believe that it's been ten whole years since my last IVF. 

I want to celebrate in some small way on the actual day toward the end of the month, but I don't have any ideas. How do you celebrate recovering from profound loss? Maybe I'll just buy a little cake from the grocery store. I like cake.

Pic retrieved from https://www.vecteezy.com

Ten years ago I could not even imagine the next day, much less the next year or even further into the future. And even if I could have, I would have never imagined any of this. My life. The world. 

What a contrast. While my new life came together, so much around me fell apart.

Pic retrieved from https://www.vectorstock.com

It's Up To You

My thirties did not go as planned. I got married at 30 and planned to wait a year before getting pregnant and having a baby. A year passed and my husband wasn't ready. I waited a second year. Then I tried to conceive for two years before going to a doctor. I was scared. Things only got scarier. I did three IUIs with injectables and two rounds of IVF. By 35, I knew I could not have children. At 36 I went back to school for a new career. By 39, I was divorced. 

Just to reiterate, my thirties did not go as planned.

That meant my 40s were up to me. 

Where do I want to live? What do I want to do for work? What do I want to do for fun?

I knew it was going to take years to feel at home, meet people, and make friends. I was right. 

But time will pass anyway.

What do you want to move toward?

Whatever decade you're in, your next decade is up to you. Of course there are a billion things out of our control, but there are also a lot of little steps we can take to move in the direction we want. 

🔮😎

Last Sadurday

I felt my sadness this weekend. My boyfriend asked what was wrong and I told him that I usually choose happiness but I just can't do it all the time. And I felt sad, so I felt it. (Also, it would be weird to feel happy all the time.)

I am sad about things bigger than me that are out of my control, from my family dynamics to the current events in our country. I am sad that I have worked so hard and make so little. Plus, I know I am not alone with any of these thoughts and feelings. And that makes me sad too.

It's also my season of grief and I am sad that I don't have children. Along with sincerely loving the life I have created for myself, a part of me may always be sad about not having children.

Being childless not by choice is unique. Things affect me unexpectedly. Like Winnie the Pooh.

I am participating in a 100 Acre Wood quilt sew along and the latest block is Kanga and Roo. It's adorable. It's little Roo peeking out from Kanga's pouch. I picked out my fabrics and cut all of my pieces and... Felt such strong resistance to sewing the block. I put it off until this past Saturday when I faced the fact that I was dreading sewing that particular block.

But... I want to make the quilt and it would look weird with a whole block missing. I told myself to just plow through it and get it done in a day. So I did. And once I got started I had fun. And now it is finished. And I am glad it is done.

I wonder if sewing that block triggered anything for anyone else in the sew along.

I admit; I engaged in some retail therapy this weekend as well. 

I bought four books from Thrift Books. I always save a lot of money by buying through them. Then I ordered just a little bit of fabric from Fat Quarter Shop, including a yard of the picture above. I love the juxtaposition of the rain and the sun. 

💜🌞☔🌈

(Links are shared if you're interested. I'm not affiliated or paid. I just like to shop at both places.)

The Importance of Rest & Friendship

For the first time during the duration of this blog, I feel caught up on sleep! Finally, I am not physically tired. However, I am still tired... 

I picture myself as a video game character with a health meter. After the last 15 years I've had, my health meter has shrunk. It's only 6 hearts as opposed to 10. As in, my capacity has decreased over time. I want to expand my capacity back to what it was, but that will take time. Or maybe, this is how it is now. Time will tell. 

All I can do is my part to take care of myself, which is a tall order these days. Current events are awful and that's an understatement. The price of everything keeps going up while my paycheck stays the same. I am still feeling hurt from events with my family from last year. I also hit the ground running in January because I'm sick of thinking about all of the home repairs that need to be done and I'm finally dealing with them all.

So I'm glad I'm not physically tired, but I still require a lot of rest.  

Rest to restore. It's my theme.

I'm thankful for friends, for the people that really see me and know me. It's invaluable to have people in my life that acknowledge what I've been through, are proud of me, and cheer me on.

It goes both ways too. I helped a friend with a stressful move a couple of weekends ago. I showed up on a Sunday and we loaded up my car and the truck she borrowed from work. It was a move out of necessity, not a move to be excited about. But I was thankful I could show up for her. She's a good friend, she asked for help, and I could give it. Although the circumstances were not ideal, I was thankful for an opportunity to be a friend to her. She and I are both trying to build community in our lives.

And then Elaine sent me the image below. I felt seen, and I felt known. 

Take the time to rest. Make the time for friends.

Drawing by Charlie Mackesy

Recover, Then Restore

I went through more of my stuff this weekend. I am determined to get home repairs done and feel decluttered. It's my personal mission for 2025 and the sooner the better. This is an example of where I like the end result, NOT the process.

I finally got my closet organizer built and installed. I ordered it over a year ago. But hey, there's no time like the present. There's a remodeling company in town, and they were grateful for indoor work during this cold month. A couple of different people came over to do drywell patching, toilet fixing, shower caulking, door knob replacing, and, my favorite, building the closet organizer. 

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: it's the little things that are the big things.

I haven't had a functional closet since my apartment six years ago. And I was a little distracted back then, what with my husband not moving with me after we had planned to move out of state for three years. Yeah... My headspace wasn't exactly where I could appreciate having a closet.

But now. Oh... Times are different, I've adjusted, and I'm just trying to get functional so I can live the rest of my life, whatever the world brings...

So I spent the weekend unpacking a couple of boxes that had been packed since I sold the house I bought for my children. It was shoes, clothes, and jackets. I tried everything on and was pleasantly surprised that about half still fit. I mean, it's been a long nine years full of sedentary activities (going back to school twice and enduring a pandemic) and a slowing metabolism.

I hung some clothes up! I put other clothes in a giveaway pile! I got rid of more boxes!

Slowly, but surely I am getting more functional. I am honestly revving up here at the end because I am OVER IT and charging forward until all this shit is DONE. 

Because it's exhausting. Trying on old clothes because they're still in good condition and you might want to wear them but thinking about the person you were when you wore them when you were living a completely different life... It was a lot. So, I kept what fit and what I liked and I'll give away the rest. 

That was Saturday. Then on Sunday I faced my desk. When I hit my limit back in July, everything just piled up on my desk. And today I faced it. Because it wasn't going to be done until I did it. 

So boring but true. That's life. There's a lot to manage and maintain.

And when you're going through infertility or grief of any kind or debilitating stress of any kind, it massively affects your ability to function. It's amazing that we can do anything at all. 

I feel like I'm playing catch-up from my 2024 burnout when I never got caught up from my 2012 - 2015 infertility. Again, I know that's life. I'm not complaining, just acknowledging.

Today I texted a friend some pictures of what I've been quilting. She said, "It's nice that you have time to do that." I really don't think she meant anything negative by that but I still replied, "I make time for it. I feel less anxious when I sew."

And that's where I am. Trying to maintain. Trying to get shit done. Coordinating home repair services isn't my favorite thing to do, but I'm always grateful when there are people available to do the work. Decluttering. Still shifting through remnants of my past life, of the life that didn't go as planned. I'm getting closer to the end of my stuff and I'm glad. I'll be relieved when it's over. 

I decided to call it. I'm done recovering from burnout. I took six months to commit to nothing new, follow through with what I'd already committed to, and rest as much as possible. I did that. Now I'm still not committing to anything else new, but I have my jobs, things I have to do, and things I want to do. I'm still resting a lot, but now I'm also incorporating things like cooking and exercise. I'm no longer recovering from burnout. Now I am restoring my health.

And that's what I'll be doing, to the best of my ability, for the rest of the year.

Image found on a gemstone repair service website when I searched images for "restoring a gem"