Thursday, June 8, 2023

We Are Not Robots

I'm glad I started blogging when I did. There's no way I could write about the hardest years now with the same rawness as I did back then. I'm glad I tried to capture what I was feeling at the time. Blogging was completely out of my comfort zone, but I didn't know what else to do. I was walking death and everything hurt.

There are several messages I've repeatedly given on this blog. 

  1. Infertility sucks.
  2. Feel your feelings.
  3. You deserve to enjoy your life.

Let's talk about #2. What happens when you don't feel your feelings? In my experience, they get stuck. The feelings get stuck inside of me. They start to rot and they turn to anger. Stuck feelings make me a very angry person. I experienced this in my teens, twenties, and thirties, each decade for different reasons. 

But if I let it all out... If I frequently cry quietly... If I occasionally cry loudly... If I use my words to tell a person why I am mad, sad, or disappointed... If I journal honestly... If I blog vulnerably...

It gets out. The feelings get out. And they don't stay stuck.

Things that used to hurt me, hurt less. Things that used to bother me, I just don't care.

It makes room for other things. 

(Which, years ago, was just more grief. But that's a part of the process too.)

I've yelled this from roof tops at every job I've had: we are not robots! I couldn't care less about unfunded mandates and pointless, inefficient protocols. I loathe productivity standards. 

(Image found in an article called "We Are Not Robots" about workplace productivity.

I am a human being. I have good days and bad. I am awesome, and I make mistakes. 

I don't know... It's just... I read something recently, started crafting a response in my head, and decided to just write it down here. From constant productivity at work and home to the expectation that we process our emotions in a tidy and linear fashion, I am freaking over it.

We are not robots. 


My point is this. Be sad. Be devastated. Be mad. Be livid. Be angry. Be depressed. Feel sorry for yourself. Acknowledge your losses. Not raising kids when you wanted to destroys dreams and life as you knew it. 

But you're still left at the end. You're still here. 

And you deserve to enjoy something about your existence, no matter how small.

(Image found in a brief post about grief.


  1. This is such a wise post, Phoenix!
    I especially like #2. This was something infertility and grief have taught me, too. But I am still learning ;-).
    Wishing you a happy Sunday and a good start into the new week <3!

    1. It hurts and it's hard, but moving through your feelings (no matter how slowly) is extremely important.

      It is miraculous to me how much I like my life now. Of course, my life looks completely differently than it did when my last IVF failed. If I had known everything was going to change, I might have just given up then. Too scary. Too much loss. But one tiny step at a time I moved toward a life that I enjoy.

      But there was a lot of rest in there. A lot of feelings too. *A lot* of days spent in bed. I couldn't just charge through it. I may have felt sub-human, but I still wasn't a robot!

      Anyway, I'm rambling. ;) I just want everyone to enjoy something after experiencing profound loss.

      Thank you, Elaine. Enjoy your week too!!

  2. Great post. I love love LOVE your last sentence. "You deserve to enjoy something about your existence ..." That is so true. It's a tragedy that anyone might focus so much on their loss, that they ignore what they still have, and could have in the future.

    1. For a long time I focused on my losses. Solely on my losses. It wasn't until I took a solo trip out of state a couple of years after stopping treatments that I had a change of perspective. I saw a beautiful sight in nature and realized: I am missing what I *do* have.

      I didn't know how to change it at the time. I didn't know how to live differently. But I started by thinking of something each day that I had. Appreciating it came later. I think I just started out with building an awareness of good things. Like everything else, it was a slow process.

      But here I am, eight years later, and I feel more free. <3

    2. Oops. Anonymous was me! For some reason, blogger keeps logging me out. And sometimes I notice, and sometimes I don't.

    3. I figured. ;) I recognized your voice. <3

  3. Good heavens, I opened my long-neglected blog reader today -- which only shows posts from a month back -- found your blog & started going back & back through the older posts, looking for the last time I commented. Eeek. I HAVE been reading, even if I haven't commented in quite a while!

    Anyway -- your three messages resonate soooo much, especially #3! We all deserve to enjoy our lives, even if they didn't turn out the way we'd hoped or planned! There's still a lot that we can embrace and enjoy!