Changes Over Time with My BFF

Out of all of my friends that I've written about on this blog, I haven't told you about the friend that I was closest to: my best friend from college. I met her within the first month or two of our first semester. She was so cool, and I wanted to be her friend. We were housemates the following year. She traveled abroad our third year and then we rented apartments in the same neighborhood our final year. It was so fun being her friend and I trusted her with everything. I was so anxious but outgoing, and she was so rational but shy in big groups. We were a good pair together. We complimented each other well. She helped me immensely.

We graduated college and continued to talk on the phone almost every day for the next couple of years. Then, inevitably, the demands of life increased and we no longer had as much free time to do that. But still, we were very much in touch.

When I got engaged, she was happy for me... But also sad for herself. She really, really wanted to be engaged. She and her boyfriend had been together for years and she was ready to get married. We talked openly about it and I said what we both already knew--that we weren't always going to be on the same timeline as each other. (Yes, this was some Real Life foreshadowing...)

My best friend and her boyfriend came to my wedding, even though it wasn't a destination they would have personally chosen. She was totally present with me and happy for me, and it was a great celebration. She and her boyfriend were engaged within the next six months, and my husband and I went to their wedding the following year. Yay! We were both newlyweds.

Then she called to tell me she was pregnant. And I was happy for her... But also sad for myself. I hadn't even started trying yet; my husband didn't want to. I also had a feeling of dread that it wasn't going to happen for me. And this was my best friend. She knew everything about me. She knew about my fear of infertility. I confided in her about it in college and she assured me I was worrying for nothing. She was the rational one. I tried to believe her.

And now she was pregnant. Which was great. But our lives were moving in different directions...

We didn't talk as much.

Several years and two kids later (two for her, none for me obviously), we were still loosely in touch. But she was busy with baby and toddler things. I was busy with fertility treatments and grief. I knew my life wouldn't be like this forever. Neither would hers. I hoped we'd reconnect again later down the road...

We always stayed in touch. But we lived on opposite sides of the country and did not have much in common, aside from our shared history in college. 

She had a third kid. I was surprised, but I'm sure she and her husband were more surprised, lol. They were already in the thick of things with parenting though, so, hey, what's one more? Haha. 

Anyway, the years passed by and life went on... Her kids and career were growing, and I was going back to school and moving a bunch just trying to find a place to land.

Then earlier this year, when I was going through the breakup (wow, that feels so long ago!), I texted her to let her know. She was so kind and supportive with her messages. And she also invited me on her family's summer vacation. Me with her, her husband, and their three kids.

And I realized, if I am going to meet my best friend's kids while they are still kids, I need to meet them NOW.

I couldn't believe she invited me on their freaking family vacation. We hadn't even seen each other in 12 years. I mean, I know her husband and I feel completely comfortable with both of them, but still... In a way, it was just a trip to see old friends. But with infertility, in another way, the trip was a lot to consider.

I did it. I went. I flew across the country and spent a week with my best friend from college and her family. And it was so awesome. Amazing. No regrets. So much fun. 10/10 will do it again.

(Obviously, working through everything and getting back together with my boyfriend was the best thing about the breakup. But the second best thing was going out of my comfort zone and taking that trip to see my best friend!)

Were there hard moments? Yes. Was it bittersweet? Also yes. But this is my life and I want to live it. I want to see my best friend and meet her kids and spend time with her family. Like I said in my previous post, it's the person that makes the difference in a situation. And my best friend is awesome. And so are her kids.

The Person Makes the Difference

I will always take certain events and situations into consideration.

My last two posts were about a wedding I went to and a shower I'm going to.

When it comes down to it, whether or not something is cool to go to depends on the people involved. If I feel dismissed, insulted, or marginalized, guess what, I'm not that interested in your wedding or your shower or whatever. If you're cool (i.e., kind), then yes I'm happy and excited to celebrate with you. 

For years, everything stung. Weddings, showers, birthday parties. Every invitation. Every non-invitation (i.e., every time I wasn't invited). Everything hurt. Even (especially?) with the people that I cared about most. I avoided things because it was all I knew to do to protect myself.

Over time, I worked on my life and myself--both of which were empty after years of infertility.

Over time, things changed. Not quickly. It felt more like the pace of the Colorado River carving the Grand Canyon. Very, very slowly. But still, things changed over time.

Remember when I met an unlikely friend? 
Maybe that's when the tiniest of monumental changes started.

I'm happy to share I got to see him. His family was on vacation nearby so I met up with them for dinner. It was great to see him and his wife. Their 10-month old is now almost 9 and they have two other kids under 5, so I got to meet them too.

It was really cool. The last time I saw them was 6 years ago. When I met my friend 8 years ago, we both had plans to move. And we did, and here we are. We live several hours apart, but we'll hang out again. He and his family will be back in my area occasionally because it's a nice spot. And my boyfriend and I will be in their area when we visit my boyfriend's family. It'll be nice to see everyone over the years.

I don't have a lot of friends that are currently raising children. However, I have spent time around a couple of friends and their kids twice in the last six months. It's not like how it was. How it used to hurt. It doesn't feel like that anymore. Maybe a part of me will always be sad about not having kids. But not everything is devastating anymore. Not all events and situations are hard or hurtful. 

If it's people I really care about and that care about me, I enjoy the moments. 

Got a Shower Invitation

Yesterday I got an invitation to a baby shower, and I immediately responded with a yes. I knew the invitation was coming, and I had already decided to go. I'm sharing this because it shows how things can change over time.

After my experience with infertility, I swore I'd never go to another baby shower again. But then I ended up organizing a baby shower, haha. Now, five years later, I'm going to another one.

This baby shower is different from the others though. It is not for a friend. It is for a friend's daughter. Yes, because time marches on... I am no longer the age where my peers are getting pregnant. But I am at the age where my peers' young adult children are.

This is a new friend I've made in the last year, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't know about my infertility. I mean, obviously, she knows I don't have kids. But we've never talked about it. Maybe she has picked up on what has led me to this point in my life, or maybe she hasn't...

But I'm definitely going to her daughter's baby shower. It wasn't a planned pregnancy, which doesn't matter, but the whole family is very excited. The shower will be a simple affair. My friend is hosting it at the library of our community college. (I'm excited to see the library! Lol.) I'm sure we'll play games and eat snacks and watch the mom-to-be open presents. Obviously, there will be talk about the baby that is coming and babies in general. Other women there will probably talk about their pregnancies and parenting experiences.

And I don't care. I'm excited to be invited. I'm looking forward to celebrating my friend's daughter.

I'm not making plans for after the shower in case it stirs up my emotions. But it might not. The truth is, I don't want to be pregnant anymore. That's not where I am in life. I don't think the shower will trigger an unmanageable yearning like it has in the past. Yes, I still get sad sometimes, but I also love my life. (And I also love that I finally have several friends in real life again that I can meet up with for dinner and gatherings.)

I'm even making a simple quilt for the baby. None of it makes me sad. 

And that is worth celebrating!

Attending Weddings Alone and Childless

How do you feel about weddings? Are you invited to any? Do you love them, dread them, or do you not feel strongly one way or another? Have your feelings changed over time? I'm just curious.

Maybe I've been lucky but most of the weddings I've attended have been great. I've never been stuck in a long, boring ceremony, and most of the receptions have been a lot of fun. But when I think about it, most of the weddings I've been to were quite a while ago. I think I've only been to two in the last decade. 

I used to love weddings. I still like them, but I don't love them the way I used to. 

I think infertility changed them for me. I always associated marriage with having children for myself because that's what I wanted to do: get married and have kids. It's the norm in society. So weddings often reference future children and that always stings because 1) it sucks that that didn't work out for me and 2) I hope the newly married couple doesn't have to go through infertility if they want to conceive children.

Interestingly, I don't think divorce changed weddings too much for me. I loved being married. And I love being divorced. However, whereas getting married was really fun, getting divorced was obviously not fun. But still, my experience with marriage and divorce doesn't change my feelings about weddings.

I will say this though. I gave everyone a plus-one to my wedding. If you were going to come to my wedding, I wanted you to enjoy your time with someone, whether it was your boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, or mother. I didn't care. 

When I think of the last two weddings I've attended, they were weird. I attended the last two weddings alone. Even when you know people at the wedding, it feels weird to go to one alone. I mean, the whole thing is a celebration of a relationship. (I don't have to be in a romantic relationship, but it's more fun to enjoy the event with someone. Twenty years ago I took my best friend to a wedding for another friend, and she and I had a great time.)

The first wedding I went to alone was because my husband didn't want to go. So he didn't go. So I traveled out of state to go to my cousin's wedding by myself. I stayed in a nice hotel room by myself and attended the ceremony (where future children were definitely referenced and I was going through infertility at the time) and then the reception by myself. Earlier in the day I went to lunch and a museum with my dad, and at the reception I ended up getting to know and hanging out with the wife of one of my cousins. I had a good time, but it felt weird to be childless and alone at the wedding.

The second wedding I went to alone was recent. I went alone because my boyfriend was very rudely and explicitly not invited. I was hurt but went anyway because it was a person very close to me. Well, it was a person who I thought I was close to. Anyway, I went. And I was the only person there in a relationship whose partner was not invited. I felt like how I feel during the holiday season sometimes, like I'm a person just looking from the outside in on everyone else's families during a joyous time. Again, it felt weird to be childless and alone at the wedding. Not to mention the hurtful things that were said.

I still like weddings. I don't know how many more will be in my future. But if I'm invited and able to go, I will. I love love. And I love the team approach to life. So I love to celebrate two people getting married and becoming a team. The ceremonies are usually short, and the receptions are fun because it's just happy people celebrating.

I still enjoy weddings, but I doubt I'll go to one alone again.

Pervasive Assumptions

I don't expect others to "get over" their parented status. Once you're a mom, you're a mom. It doesn't change. Why do I feel like some people want me to "get over" my childlessness? It's a part of me. It's who I am. It's not the entirety of who I am, but it has a big influence on my life. 

Just like having children can change everything for someone, not having children can change everything too. Having children affects your life in major ways, from the big stuff down to your daily routines, and so does not having children when you planned for them your whole life.

I am not sad every day like I used to be. Far from it. Being sad every day was a part of it for me, but I am no longer in that place. I have moved along the road of my life. But it still affects me. 

It affects what I do for work (I changed careers), where I live (I moved out of the suburbs and to a different state), and how I spend my time (no sports practice, birthday parties, or carpool lines for me -- two of which I was actually looking forward to). Involuntary childlessness affects everything.

And people don't seem to get that. Although they do seem to make quick assumptions.

Why do I get hate for taking a nap?
(Parents can take naps, eventually anyway. Their kids grow up.)

Why do I get judged for spending time on hobbies?
(Plenty of women throughout time have raised children and quilted.)

Why am I assumed to not have an important schedule or responsibilities?
(I still work, run errands, have appointments, eat, sleep, shower, and stay on top of dishes and laundry like everyone else. I have things to do, whether I like it or not. And I also do not have unlimited energy.)

It's just short-sighted. And annoying.

*****

The holiday season starts this week. It's an easy time to feel dismissed or misunderstood.

I used to love October, November, and December. Then they were extremely painful for years. Now I love them again but only because I've reclaimed the parts I like.

As your family and friends start to make plans for the rest of 2024, pay attention to what you want to do and what you don't want to do. You're allowed (and encouraged!) to make decisions based on what fits YOUR life, not everyone else's.

💜

From Burnout to Boundaries

If you read my last post about my burnout, thank you. It feels nice to be heard. Plus, we are never alone. If I'm feeling that way, someone else out there is feeling it too. I write to connect because feeling alone really sucks. I like *being* alone; I enjoy my own company. But *feeling* alone feels really lonely and like nobody understands.

So, anyway... I'm managing extreme burnout right now and that's okay. A lot of us are. We do what we can and rest when we can. For me, what's left of 2024 is scheduled with work, trips, and research goals. And I'm not making any more plans. And I will keep making sure I don't commit myself to a whole lot for 2025. 

I think I will need to look for a new healthcare job next year. The commute is getting harder for me. It's getting longer, both with congestion and construction. It's a big drain on me after a demanding work day. I've commuted for most of my working life. But just because I CAN do something, it doesn't mean I have to.

My in-town part-time job is still going well. I do not make very much, but it pays for my half of the bills and I'm so damn happy. I really enjoy it. The place, the people. I like what we do there.

I've just been thinking about a lot... Between work stuff and family issues, July 2024 was one of the hardest months of my life. And that's saying something. Because we all know going through infertilty is the worst. (Plus, I went through a big breakup at the beginning of the year. At least that terribleness was followed by a massive effort of communicating and working through things with my boyfriend and us getting back together.)

So I've been thinking... What is working for me? What isn't? What is in my control to change? What's important to me? How do I want to spend my time and energy?

I read an awesome book. It's called Drama Free by Nedra Glover Tawwab. It's subtitled A Guide for Managing Unhealthy Family Relationships. I learned a lot of good information and strategies from this book. I treated it like a textbook. I highlighted and wrote in it as I read it. It was a lot. I finished reading it and felt like I had finished taking a course. (I skipped the chapter about parenting.) I was very glad I read it, and I was very glad to be done. I mean, it's not like anyone in my family is doing any self-study to improve their communication or relationships with me. I just don't want to focus on this topic anymore. 

So it's the end of another month. The next four months are my favorite. I love the fall (especially Thanksgiving) and winter. I plan to follow through with my commitments and enjoy working on several different quilts. I'm not making any more plans than I already have, and I am prioritizing my physical and mental health. Not work. (Although, yes, working is not negotiable; I have to work. But that's why I'm so thankful for my part-time job.) Not family. Not anyone or anything else.

Me. What I want. What I need.

And what does any of this have to do with infertility?

Well, before that devastating, traumatic, and life-changing experience I NEVER put myself first. It was always my family first. And then it was my friends. And then my boyfriends/husband. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I also internalized society's expectations and prioritized what I was told to be important. (Do you do any of this? It's worth thinking about.)

But after living a life that literally nobody else I knew was living (i.e., childless not by choice), I finally truly realized that my life is MINE. Nobody else may understand it and they don't have to. I don't owe anyone anything, including any explanations.

So I'm gonna take the rest of the year to really think on all of that. I want to move through burnout by resting, re-evaluating what I let in, and establishing new boundaries. I really want a new mindset to settle in and take hold in my subconscious. My 18 year old self never cared what others thought. I want to reclaim and reintegrate her.

This is Mia Zapata from The Gits. Photo by Charles Peterson, retrieved from this article. Her voice, her energy, her lyrics... She was incredible and tragically taken too soon. I've always loved this picture. It reminds me of how I used to feel, wayyy before I ever experienced infertility. 

I want to feel like this again.

Extreme Burnout

For the duration of this blog (8 years next month!), I have written about how tired I am.

You know my story...

Infertility, failed treatments, and realizing I won't be raising kids in this lifetime wiped me out. For a couple of years I didn't do much. I volunteered Wednesday mornings and went out to dinner with my husband every Friday night. I wasn't working because I assumed that I would eventually get pregnant. I wasn't socializing because all of my friends were getting pregnant and having kids. I was too anxious and depressed to actually enjoy doing anything, so I wasn't doing anything for fun. At least I had my dog at the time.

Then I decided, since I couldn't have kids, I was going to have to completely change my life or resign myself to always feeling like walking death. From the house we bought to my chosen profession of teaching, every major decision I had made in life was structured around having children. But I didn't have children, so the life I had created did not make sense. In fact, it hurt me deeply in every waking moment. Grief is exhausting, especially disenfranchised grief because it's so isolating.

I decided to sell the house I bought for my children, go back to school to change careers, and move out of state. I did all of that and then got divorced. Everything was exhausting. I also kept moving in search of a place where I wanted to live. Then the pandemic hit. 

Throw in more school (a privilege but still stressful) and several more job changes due to hazardous conditions at one place, an untrustworthy co-worker at another place, and being grossly underpaid at the last place...

I have been very tired for a very, very long time.

And I think I have reached my limit.

I tried giving myself a three-month sabbatical several years ago. It helped at the time but not overall. So now I am just following through with what I've already said I'd do and not committing to anything new.

I went out of town the last two weekends. One was a quick but stressful overnight family trip. The other was a days-long professional conference. Then this week, despite getting enough sleep every night, I have felt sick. Waves of nausea come and go throughout the day. I am worn out.

Infertility took so much from me. It is more than losing my kids and not getting to be a mom. It's also all the time lost to fear, anxiety, stress, depression, and exhaustion. It's the arduous recovery from the whole experience. It's the picking up the pieces of what's left and figuring out what to do with myself instead... and then actually doing it. I HAD to get up every day and do the things that I needed to do to get to where I am now. Nobody else could do it for me. But damn it was hard and I am still so, so tired.

I am trying to renew my health. I have exercised once a week for the last three weeks. That's not a lot, but it's a start. I am about to begin a new sew-along for a new quilt, and that community is fun. The season is changing and I love the fall and winter. I will feel better in time, but it is going to take an extended period of decreased demands on myself.

I am grateful I am in a good place. I like myself and I like where I am. But damn, I can just barely deal with life anymore. I am doing the bare minimum and giving myself a lot of grace. 

It's been a long 12 years.

Take good care of yourself.

I like to color. It's calming, and it requires no thought or precision. 

You don't even have to stay in the lines if you don't want to.