I haven't written lately because I've been fortunate to pick up some holiday hours. I've been working hard, and I love it. I love my job. I'm so glad I didn't drop out of the graduate school program that I hated. (Instead I started this blog. October 2016.) That program was a means to an end, and now I get to work in this new profession. I liked teaching, but I knew I needed to do something different after infertility.
I work with adults now. I am learning a lot about older adults and the aging process. It's interesting and relevant because we are all aging. Every single one of us.
Interestingly, after going a couple of years without being asked if I had kids, I am now asked again somewhat regularly. Also interestingly, it doesn't even bother me.
I am usually asked by older adult patients. I think it's just a common question to ask in conversation. I also think the question is sparked by my caregiving in the moment. I love providing patient care. I follow the rules and make sure I do what I need to do for ethical reasons and for the purposes of health insurance reimbursement. But I always take at least a moment to really see the person. Look them in the eyes, ask how they are doing, and listen to whatever they need to share. So, I think I probably give off a pretty maternal vibe, which is why people ask. I've always said I was born to be a mom.
But I'm not a mom. Obviously.
And I'm learning to be okay with that.
It's easier for me now that I know I'm not going to have children. For 32 years I assumed I would. For four more years, I tried doing so. And then I sort of realized it wasn't happening...
That feeling of being in limbo really, really sucked.
But I digress.
Ten years ago when I was asked if I had kids I would feel so sad because the answer was no.
Now when I am asked I just simply say no because I don't have kids.
Now I know I'm not having kids. I've grown into that idea, and I've created a life I want to live.
And it's funny to me that I'm usually asked if I have kids at least once a day at work by a patient.
And it's amazing to me that I'm okay saying no.
Dear Phoenix,
ReplyDeleteI am very glad that you are okay saying no.
I have been okay saying no only recently.
Wishing you happy holidays.
Sending much love from Europe.
Klara
It is recent for me too. I like this change--just being able to say no and not feel sad or hurt.
DeleteHappy Holidays!! <3
Oh my gosh, yes. Yes to the limbo being the worst, and saying "no" when you still think maybe, just maybe it could still be possible is awful. Saying "no" in those raw new moments where you know it's never going to happen hurts too. But as time moves forward? How lovely to discover it hurts less. I can imagine you get asked a lot in working with older adults, so I'm glad you are good with it!
ReplyDeleteYep, it's almost always the older patients that ask me. When I say no, they usually look confused and then interested. But I've had a lot of opportunities that women in older generations did not have. Lots of school, lots of jobs. I didn't get to opt out of infertility, but they didn't get to opt out of their societal constraints either.
DeleteAnd yes, being in limbo is the WORST.
Love this: "I've grown into that idea, and I've created a life I want to live." So agree! I'm there, too. It's taken lots of reflection and effort and the validation of wonderful women (including you!) to get comfortable in my skin and around others again.
ReplyDeletep.s. So, so great to connect online this past week! Wishing you all the best in 2023!
It has taken A LOT of reflection, effort, and validation to get to where I am. And apparently, most of of us first found that in your book, Silent Sorority. Thank you!!!
DeleteConnecting with everyone last week was priceless. I'm still in awe. <3
Wishing you a very merry 2023!