Grief, Growth, & Supporting a Mother

After I ended fertility treatments, I decided to change careers and go back to school. I could not return to teaching. I could not work all day with other people's children. Not back then.

If you've been reading for a while you might remember how horrible my program was. I was just reminded myself as I read several posts from 2017 and 2018 trying to find the one I was looking for. The professors were awful. And I wrote very honestly about it back then. 

The post I was looking for was this one. It's about the time I missed a class because the research article they were discussing that day was about motherhood and how it brings meaning to life. I don't really know because I never read the article. I emailed the professor and offered to complete an alternate assignment. She replied very rudely, and I've never forgotten it. She told me that I wouldn't get to choose my patients in the future and that my decision to miss class was unprofessional. She had zero compassion.

Well.

Well, well, well... Dr. [Name Redacted (but not redacted for her sake)]. A big middle finger to her.

Because, no, we don't get to pick our patients/students/clients. But we can be compassionate when the situation requires it. Unlike how my professor treated me in the spring of 2017.

Because now, in the fall of 2026, I am healed and I am skilled and I have knowledge about profound grief, disenfranchised grief, and lifelong grief earned through lived experience.

And I can hold space for others. I can validate their experience. I can empathize with them and teach them too, just like so many bloggers and authors did for me over the years.

The people I help support includes mothers.

Without going into too much detail, I've been working with a woman whose son died. She is trying to take care of herself and her health while still showing up in all of the other areas of her life. 

Because as we already know, life does not stop for grief. 

So I've been able to provide her with a little bit of education about grief. Of course she is grieving and she knows that, but there are so many other things about grief that are rarely explicitly stated. So I just say them. The persistent brain fog. The unspoken timeline from others about when you are supposed to "be over it." The fact that there are some things you don't "get over," but you can get through. And one thing I told her was that grief is very lonely. I told her that she was her son's only mother so nobody else will understand how it feels, and that can be very isolating. 

I'm supporting a grieving mother with all that I've learned through my own grief of childlessness.

That professor was very rude and unsupportive nine and half years ago. She was right that we don't get to pick our patients, but she was wrong that I would be forever wounded like I was. 

I am strong now, and I can help others navigate their pain.

I wanted a picture of a strong plant to represent grief and growth.
I searched online for "strongest plant ecological resilience" to find an image to go with this post. Lo and behold, I learned about syntrichia caninervis! An article posted just yesterday found it to be "the most resilient desert plant found to date."

The Last Three Months of the Year

It's my favorite time of the year. I love October, November, and December. I love the decorations and festiveness that come with each month. I love the changing weather. I love the shorter days. I love apples, cider, leaves changing, pumpkins, hot chocolate, cozy quilts, celebrating gratitude, cranberries, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, putting ornaments on the tree, holiday lights, Santa, stockings, and snow. Please let there be snow.

I love the winding down. Every year I read about the "hustle and bustle" of the holidays, but I haven't experienced that in decades. That's not how I curate this time. I take what I enjoy from these three months and leave the rest. 

I try to do as much as possible during the first half of the year so I can do less for the last half.

And we are here! Happy October!! It's pumpkin time, it's spooky season, it's Libra, and then it's Scorpio. It's football season, which I don't particularly care about except I grew up in a sports household so it's part of the seasonal rhythm for me. (As an aside, I'm thinking about getting into hockey. And by that I mean, learn the basics and watch some games. I looked up the season. It just started. There are a lot of games.)

What does any of this have to do with infertility? Not much. And also, everything.

Ten years ago I wrote about Halloween being the hardest day of the year. Then three years ago I wrote about how it had changed. I love this time of year, but I had to reclaim it. I had to let go of how I thought I'd be celebrating these three months. You know, with kids. Instead it's just me. I don't live near family and my boyfriend is not particularly into holidays. 

But now I know what's important to me, and now that's what I do. I enjoy the parts I like.

I get excited when I start seeing pumpkins at stores at the end of September. I'll turn on the tv for background noise while football plays on the weekend. I love October, especially when there's a crispness in the air. I enjoy the ambience and decorations everywhere. I love to see people in costume during the day on Halloween. It's hilarious.

Then November comes and I just love it. For so many years now, I've been cooking the big meal. I'm getting to where I prefer a ham over a turkey, but I'm all about the sides. Lately it's just been me and my boyfriend. Sometimes it's us and his son. I love the idea of abundance, the practice of gratitude, and the ritual of leftovers and decorating the tree the next day.

Then I really savor December. It all goes faster every year. I don't even do much, but this year we are going to go see a performance of The Nutcracker. That'll be festive. And all of my Xmas movies are unpacked. I haven't watched those in a couple of years. And I'll have a couple of simple gifts for us to unwrap. And stockings stuffed with candy.

And then... 

It's the quietest week of the year. Between Xmas and New Year's, the world actually slows down. I don't have appointments. I don't travel. I take time off work and enjoy a staycation at home.

I love it. I love it so much.

And it all starts now.

Other People's CNBC Disclosures

I don't remember when I stopped being embarrassed by infertility. It feels recent so maybe it's been in the past couple of years. I don't feel ashamed anymore. It's not my fault I'm not a mother. It's not my fault I wanted to be one. I navigated all that and eventually integrated it.

I feel more matter-of-fact about it now. I don't talk about it "in the wild" very much, but I don't shy away from it like I used to. It has led to some interesting connections with others.

There's a woman at work. She shared with me that she and her husband tried for years and it's not going to happen. She said they didn't do fertility treatments, and she was shocked to learn the low success rate for IVF.

Then there was another woman at work who was talking to another co-worker and me. She very casually said something about being infertile and I stopped the conversation. I asked, "You're infertile?" She said, "Yes." I said, "So am I." There was a pause and, if you can believe this, she simply said, "I see you." I appreciated that so much.

She saw me. What a kind thing to say. She didn't try to say something to make it better. She just acknowledged the facts that cannot change and sat with me.

Then a third person at work, this time a man (different from the one I wrote about here), shared that he and his wife don't have kids. I said something like, "Oh me neither, I can't have them" and he replied with, "Well, it's easier to say we don't want them than to know you can't have them." There was a slight pause. I felt the pain in that sentence. And then we talked about other things. Haven't talked about that since.

Why would we? We are at work. But having kids just comes up. Even when you don't have them.

Then, yes, a fourth example. These are all from work. 

(I really gotta get out more! Lol. Just kidding, I'm pretty tired after this year so I'm fine with working and going home for now. But that means all of my socialization comes from work though. Good thing I like my co-workers haha.)

I went to an organization-wide lunch and randomly sat next to someone I didn't know because she was diagonal from one of the few people that I did know. Everyone else seemed to know each other, and they were all visiting. The woman next to me was talking all about her nephews.

Then she turns to me and asks, "Do you have kids?" 

I was assuming this was going to be a situation where I said no and she turned her back to me, but I was wrong. I said no, and she said me neither. Then she said her nephews never call her or want to hang out anymore. I jokingly told her my niece and nephew very rudely grew up too. We agreed, in all seriousness, that being an aunt was overrated. Neither one of us have kids, and we are past the age of trying. All that at a work lunch while everyone else was chit chatting.

Interesting.

In my thirties I was surrounded by friends and family getting pregnant, having babies, and raising kids. In my forties all of those babies are now kids and teenagers. In my forties I've created a life that prioritizes my needs and interests over other families. That might sound strange, like an obvious thing to do, but it can be surprisingly hard with society's implicit expectations.

And now, instead of being constantly asked when I'm going to have kids, I attract conversations like these. Snippets of other people's childless not-by-choiceness (CNBC). 

Visiting My Friend (& Her Family)

Hello, hello, I'm still here. It's been a lot of working, sleeping, and moving-related stuff.

But two weekends ago I did something fun! I visited my best friend from college, her husband, and their three kids. I saw them a year and a half ago when my friend invited me on their family vacation. I was a little hesitant because it had been so long since we'd seen each other. But I went and it was fun! And now we live in the same state so we hope to see each other at least once a year. 

It's a different life though. A very different life. Her daughters are in elementary and middle school, and our time was spent dropping them off and picking them up from their various activities. My friend has a very serious and important job too, but I was there for a long weekend when she didn't have to go into the office. It really was incredible. She made dinner every night too.

I reminded myself that she's lived in her house for 9 years. She's raised kids for 14 years. She has her rhythms and routines that have evolved over the years. She's in the thick of things and it's like a juggling act that won't stop for 20 more years.

I wasn't sad to be immersed in her life. I love my friend, and (thank god) her kids are awesome. I like her husband too. I've known him almost as long as I've known my friend. I love where they live and going to visit them is like going on a little retreat. It's a vacation. With kids. Lol. We go do things, and I like to go to bakeries and get coffee and buy cookies for me and the girls.

But I was ready for home. I like my life. I loved my vacation, I loved seeing my friend, and I loved coming home. 

Then I got home and felt thrown off all week because I had spent the whole weekend out of town. I hadn't done my laundry or gone to the grocery store or had any downtime really. It's always one thing or another. We can't have everything.

Then I spent this weekend revising my research article. I put a lot of time into it and it was worth it. My draft is better than it's ever been. I am almost ready to resubmit it. That's my goal by the end of the month. I'm surprised it's still on my plate, but my new job and moving (twice) this past year interrupted a lot of my projects.

Next weekend I will chill! Unless something else comes up lol. But relaxing is what is planned.

Here are three pictures for you. The first two pictures are homegrown tomatoes and chickens at my friend's home. The third picture is a book I bought on vacation: Fairy Gardening 101. It's my new interest. I want to have plants and a vegetable garden, which is possible in my new backyard, but I'm going to start small by maintaining the landscaping that is already there...
And creating little fairy gardens here and there.

Moving Is A Long Process

I've been low-level cranky for the past several weeks. I've realized moving is traumatic and trauma is cumulative. Therefore, each move actually gets harder even when it's a positive thing. It does not get easier with time. It's just more disruption.

I am so incredibly thankful to have moved into a new home. I also don't think I am going to feel well for awhile. I accept this fact. It's part of the process. I mean, I haven't even eaten a homecooked meal at a dining room/kitchen table in over ten months. We gave our old table away to the thrift store before moving out of state.

Lately, my life has been only moving, working, and sleeping. That is not okay. I'm happy I moved, it's great to have a job, and I'm thankful I can sleep. But those three things do not make up a meaningful, enjoyable life by themselves. I need more. I want more. I deserve more.

Time to sew, time with friends, time to exercise.

I still think a little bit about what my life would be like if I was raising kids but not very often. I've created a completely new life for myself (a couple of times over!), so it's impossible to know what my life would be like as a mother. There's no value in even speculating. 

I'm living the life I have, and that's what is important. My life is valid and worthwhile.

And, on that note, I am going to cook! I haven't made any meals in the new place yet, and it's time to get that good energy goin' and flowin'. It's up to me to do what I can to feel better.

The graphic above was found on this post about cooking as a self-care ritual.

Thankful, Tired, & Couldn't Have Done It Without You

I haven't sewn. I haven't cooked. I haven't exercised. All three of these activities are very important ways that I take care of myself. I can tell I haven't done them in weeks.

However, we can't do everything, and what I have done is move! Yayyy. Glad to have that done!

Movers came last Saturday and moved all of the boxes and what little furniture we have. I took the whole week off of work and did an amazing job of balancing rest and getting shit done. I managed one major errand/task a day AND a nap. :)

I'm not kidding when I say that I literally slept for half of my PTO (paid time off) week. I honestly slept 9 - 10 hours a night with a 2 - 3 hour nap every day. I was that tired. I am so thankful I was able to take a week off before my body gave out or I had a mental break. Seriously. We all push ourselves so much, but our physical and mental health should not be taken for granted. 

I thought about my friends with kids and how they can't take a week off. But then I also remembered that their lives have nothing to do with mine. I am living MY life, not theirs. And my life has been constant upheaval and reinvention for over a decade. It's been tiring and I'm allowed to rest.

It was a year ago today (Sunday 8/24/2025) that I realized I had to move. I was going to lose my affordable health insurance. My three jobs weren't covering my bills and I didn't have it in me to add in a fourth. I needed to get somewhere more viable for the rest of my life. 

I didn't want to look for (and start!) a new job, and I didn't want to deal with moving. I didn't want to do any of it. Just like IUIs and IVF. Just like going back to school for a new career. Just like getting divorced, moving a million times, and enduring a pandemic. 

I didn't want to do any of it. 

I did it anyway. 

And I'm calling this the finish line.

I did it. I'm done. I have arrived. It's time to stop and smell the roses.

I created a life I want to live.

Most importantly, I love myself. I love myself so much. I look back at myself in the past and have so much compassion for all of my anxiety, depression, insecurity, and suffering. I'm so much kinder to myself now.

I also love my partner, my new home, my job, my cats, and my hobbies. I love the little things. I love tasty meals and nourishing conversations. I love moments of peace, and I love contentment. 

Stress never ends. Problems never stop. I know that. 

But my most recent marathon is over. 

I have grieved and integrated my losses. I restructured my life. I created a place for myself without my children in this world where I always thought I'd be a mom. It was no small task. There's a reason it took me over a decade. Even after years of blogging honestly, I still can't seem to put the whole experience into words. I haven't yet accurately described how completely disorienting it is to be childless not-by-choice.

So I moved. And moved and moved and moved. I moved away from what I didn't want and moved toward what I did want. And I think it's pretty safe to say that I won't move again for awhile. Of course, anything can happen. But I'm here now. Professional state licensure, state driver's license, vehicle registration, and I bought a house. I'm in a city. If I lose my job, there are others.
I can live my life here.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm unpacked and settled. It's only been a week.

In a way, my head is still spinning from the last ten years. I can barely process the last year alone.

So that's me. That's where I'm at. A tired pile of mush. Feeling overwhelmingly grateful. 

I get that nobody else in my life really understands what I'm feeling right now. It's a little lonely, but that's how it goes with infertility and involuntary childlessness. So thank you for reading this post and supporting me with your love, laughter, and commiseration all these years. 

We did it. We saved ourselves.

Pic found at https://www.vecteezy.com/free-photos/runner-finish-line

Childless & Taking Care of My Inner Child

You know I'm tired. You know I'm drained. You also know life doesn't stop, and I will be going back to the office tomorrow for another week of work. But I've hired movers for Saturday! A team of three strong people will come over, load up our stuff (very little furniture but tons of boxes), and take it to our new place where they will unload it. I cannot possibly physically move myself again. And it's only been three months since my boyfriend made his last trip to where we moved from and back. We are so done.

But I'm back living in a city where there are goods and services, so I hired movers!

In anticipation of the upcoming week of work and moving, I did as little possible this weekend. I cut some fabric, did some hand sewing, and read a whole dang book. I don't remember the last time I read a book in 24 hours. It was very relaxing.

I can and can't believe I don't have children. I can believe it because it's my life. It's my reality. I can't believe it because I always planned on being a mom. I looked forward to it. It's what my friends and family are doing. It's what I wanted to do.

Honestly, my new place would be great for raising kids. It's a cool house that's being "wasted" on a childless woman. (That's not my opinion, just society's.) My boyfriend doesn't fall into that category because he is a dad. Even with his kid grown, he will always be a dad.

We are about to hit the most pronatalistic time of the calendar year. Back to school, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and the winter holidays (Hanukkah, Christmas, Xmas, Kwanzaa, winter solstice, etc.). I don't know why my new house is making me think of my children. I obviously know I'm not having children in this lifetime. In fact, I was happy to buy my last house because it was perfect for a couple but not for raising children. Maybe that's the difference. My new home is a cool house. I would have loved it as a kid.

Maybe that's what I'm doing with my childless adult life. Making my inner child happy. I bought a fun house and I work long days helping others help themselves so I can pay my bills and live my life, spending my money on food, fabric, and my cats. 

I've got a co-worker that's the same age as me. She doesn't have kids. She just broke up with her partner of 8 years and now lives alone. She says she's ordering takeout and playing video games after work. She said she feels like a teenager whose mom is out of town. I said, "But wouldn't your younger self be so happy and proud? You're living a life that younger you dreamt about." 

Of course, younger me dreamt about being a mother. It really was a lifelong desire for me. But since my children didn't come in this lifetime, I literally thank them out loud for the life I'm living now. I hope they're proud of me.

I am slowly but surely (I'm in no rush) hand sewing a grandmother's flower garden quilt. 

That's 1 flower (above) out of the 77 I plan to sew together for the quilt top. There will be white hexagons surrounding/in between each flower as well. I fussy cut the centers of the flowers using a fabric that had a lot of different objects printed on it. I started it in 2022 and I'm sure it'll take me another year or two at least. I love to sew while watching movies on Saturday night.

Drained

I am running on fumes. Yes, I write a lot that I'm tired. That's because I'm tired. And have been for a very long time. But I feel like I might have finally set myself up for awhile, and very soon I will get to just live my life and take a break from almost constant upheaval. We'll see.

I bought a house. It needs repairs. I'm scheduling and coordinating all that while working full-time. How does anyone get anything done? What is this world that we have created? I keep thinking how dumb and impossible it all is. 

I'm usually pretty positive. But I'm also very real. 

This is bullshit.

But anyway. We go on. This is what we have. This is the reality in which we live.

I am extremely grateful for the ability to buy a house. I sold my old one in June and bought a new one (to me) in July. I'll move after the repairs are done. Whenever that is. I can't really plan. I'm living hour by hour.

Tomorrow starts another week of work. I rested this weekend. Did as little as possible and was pretty successful at it. Sewed a little. Slept a lot. Went grocery shopping and somehow managed to get laundry done. How am I functioning?

I'm taking some PTO in a couple of weeks. I'm not going to do anything. Well, I might move. I might not. I don't know. But I'm going to think a whole lot less. I will eat, sleep, and sew.

So, yes, I am drained. 

But it's not just exhaustion. Something has changed with me. It has to be hormonal. Because I have changed on a fundamental level. After a lifetime of feeling an overwhelming amount of nurturing and maternal tendencies... I don't have them anymore. I mean, I still care. I still work in a caregiving profession. And I'm good at it. But I am changed. I can tell. I honor the primal yearning I used to have to raise my children, but I definitely no longer feel that way about other people's children. It has to be hormonal. The feelings have drained out of me over the last year.

I'm also bigger, and my metabolism has slowed down. I have less energy and more gray hairs with every passing day. I'm changing. We always are. But this is big. And interesting. I'm approaching it with curiosity.

So, yeah, I'm drained. But I'm also different. It feels unfamiliar, but I welcome it.

Art credit: CollageGirlKC; print above available for purchase here

Handle with Care

I cannot get really close to other people's children. The first two times I learned this lesson it hurt really bad. Now I'm learning it for a third time. It sucks, but it's softened because of my previous experience. I can enjoy others' kids, but they'll never be mine. They will never think to call me with good news. They will never think to call me with bad news. They will never think to call me.

Part of this is sad. Part of this is reality. It's just the way it is.

The first time I got hurt was a long time ago. I had just stopped trying to conceive, sold my children's house, and gone back to school. I wasn't invited to a friend's kid's 6th birthday party when I had been invited to everything else previously. I had already bought the birthday presents. Then I saw the pictures of the birthday party on social media. I wasn't invited. I was crushed.

The second time I got hurt was by my niece. It only happened two years ago. She's grown. An adult. But she was mean to me. So unnecessarily mean. I was blindsided. I never wrote about it and probably never will. Maybe I shouldn't have assumed we were as close as I thought we were, but I did. Not anymore. Now I know. Being an aunt doesn't guarantee an awesome relationship.

And, most recently, another person was in my life that I really cared about. Someone else's kid. Everything seemed fine until last week. Now I don't know what was real and what was fake. I choose to hold on to my good memories. I give myself grace while I process the rest.

It's okay to love people. It's important to love people. But love makes us vulnerable, and sometimes we get hurt. We feel our feelings, learn our lessons, get back up, and go on.

I'm not mad at myself for being sensitive, but I want to be more careful with myself in the future.

Sunday Reset

One of the best things about my job is having a regular work schedule. It makes it so much easier to have routines. Like Sundays for example. It's the day I do laundry and dishes. I clean out the fridge. I look at my planner for the week. It's a weekly reset for me, and it's made a huge difference in my life. What used to be overwhelming is now very satisfying.

I also notice I've been blogging on Sundays. I don't have a list of drafts. Every time I write a post, I open my laptop and start writing. When I'm done, I read over it a couple of times and publish it. It's become another part of my Sunday.

However, today my thoughts are scattered. I've been thinking that maybe I've been grieving a little lately. I've been so tired for so long, and I'm operating at maximum capacity. I keep doing stuff like preventative healthcare appointments and trying to buy a house because I feel like I am so close to being done with stuff for awhile. I might get a break from major life stressors soon.

It's okay. I knew this year would be tough. I am relieved that I'm past the halfway mark. 

But that's where the grieving comes in. It has taken so long to recover from infertility. It has taken so long to create a different life (one where I don't have kids) from the life I assumed I'd be living (being a mother). There were a lot of other things along the way, like my divorce and the pandemic. It's just been exhausting.

I noticed I was feeling a little sad for a couple of weeks. It wasn't about not having kids necessarily. It was more about how much time, energy, and resources it took to change my life. And yes, I'm very grateful for the time, energy, and resources, but I also get to say that it sucked. It sucked that so many other people got to live their lives as is while I poured myself into creating something completely new and unknown.

And then this weekend happened. Where I realized, by hearing about a loved one and their young adult kid, that my children will never do dumb shit and/or break my heart. My kids are not here. My heartbreak comes from not having them.

The contrast. Having kids, not having kids. 

And the similarities. Heartbreak all the same.

I've been quietly thinking about all of this as I've gone about my chores today. My laundry is done and my kitchen is picked up. I've got a grocery list written for tomorrow after work. I feel prepared for the upcoming week. I've still gotta keep going; I've got a lot to do at home and work for the next 1 - 3 months. Then I am hoping I can do less and merely maintain for the winter.

Thinking of you as we start a new week. I know things aren't easy for anyone right now. 💜

Cute infographic found on Notes by Thalia

Perspective

I put in an offer on a house. Looking for a house to buy was pretty much the last thing I felt like doing. I am SO tired. But... I saw one online that I loved. I knew that if it went pending before I even looked at it I'd be mad at myself. So I made myself find a realtor and looked at the house. 

I loved it.

Even if it all works out and I end up buying this house, I can't call it my forever home. I've already had three "forever" homes. The house my ex-husband owned when we got married, the house we bought for our children, and the house I bought in a small town in the middle of nowhere. At each place, I thought I could live there forever. But... I didn't.

Now I'm excited about a fourth house. Maybe it will work out. Maybe it won't. But I hope it does.

This isn't a house that is possible only because I don't have kids. It would actually be a great house for kids. The yard and floor plan are great, and it's by a park and zoned to good schools. 

But I don't have kids. Instead, it will be a great house for me, my boyfriend, and his adult son. 

Maybe.

For now, we wait. We get it inspected. We see how things go. But I am capable of waiting. I spent yearsss waiting. I got this. It will work out or it won't. 

Whatever happens, it won't be traumatic. I've already survived the worst.

The Last Onesies

For the first time in over 20 years, I do not own a single onesie. It's the end of an era.

I always wanted to be a mom. I dreamed about it as a kid and planned for it my whole life. Once my (now ex-) husband I started dating, I started buying onesies. I figured I wouldn't want to buy the cute, expensive onesies once the baby was here and I needed actual diapers and stuff. I had quite a collection, and then I gave them all away. 

All except for six onesies I couldn't give away. I needed to place them in the right home. 

And then I met a very cool co-worker. And I knew she would appreciate the onesies. We had a work event last week. She's out on maternity leave, but she came and brought the baby. I brought the onesies and gave them to her. I was right. She loved them. But what I didn't know is that one of the band onesies was one of her favorite bands! That was an awesome surprise. So she and I both have one of the same favorite bands. And yes, she already sent me pics of her newborn swimming in this onesie for 6-month-olds. She's excited that it's so big on him so he can wear it longer hahaha.

Didn't that work out?

Also, at the work event (it was a casual lunch), there were 4 women standing in a circle. Me, my co-worker with her baby, and two other co-workers. My co-worker asked us if we wanted to hold the baby and... All three of us said no! Hahahaha. It cracked me up. That's the largest group of women I've been in where no one wanted to hold the baby. Hahahaha. And my co-worker is cool. She didn't mind or take it personally. She was just offering. I loved it.

No more onesies for me! I don't own any. I won't be buying any. I don't want to be pregnant, and I don't want a newborn. I don't want a toddler, and I don't want a kid. My own children would be preteens and teenagers by now and that would've been fine with me. But they're not coming in this lifetime so I am living a different life. A life without onesies.

I'm glad the last 15 years are behind me. So so soooo glad.
I'm grateful for this new chapter. Hell, it's more than a chapter.
I'm grateful for this new book in the series of my life. I kicked my own ass to create it.

He's Not a Fan of Father's Day

My boyfriend hates Father's Day. Other than this blog, I don't have any social media so I didn't even realize it was Father's Day until we went mattress shopping today. The saleswoman that helped us was really nice. She asked us how we were celebrating Father's Day and told us she baked an apple pie for her husband yesterday. 

I totally didn't want to go mattress shopping this morning, but my back has hurt all week so I didn't have a choice. I had to go mattress shopping and I have to exercise. Over time, with a new mattress and a less sedentary lifestyle, I will feel better.

So will my boyfriend. Because it will no longer be Father's Day. I guess even fertile people can hate these types of holidays for any number of reasons. I don't know why my boyfriend does. He's not one to love holidays in general. Holidays can be hard. Expectations, anticipation, good memories, bad memories...

I'm living with my boyfriend's young adult son again. It's my fourth time living with him. The first three times didn't end positively, but it's okay. He was young, I'm Type A, and there were extenuating circumstances each time. We've talked about it. It's all in the past. And now we live at a fourth address together. It's our fourth town/city and our second state. 

I love my family. It looks different from how I imagined. I thought I would be raising kids. I did not raise kids. But I have my partner and his kid who is now a young man. (They grow up so fast! Haha. I laugh because he was grown when I met him. But now he is grown-grown.)

I am not a stepmom. I've heard other people call me that. A co-worker recently. One of my sisters one time. But I am not a stepmother. I didn't raise him. I wasn't around when he was being raised. I don't call him my stepson and he doesn't call me his stepmom. I'm just his dad's girlfriend that's still here, haha.

But we get along great. And over the years I got to have some maternal moments with him when I got to help him with a couple of different "adulting" type tasks. I enjoyed it. I didn't make a big deal out of it, but it was precious to me. 

I couldn't be with someone who had a kid if I didn't like their kid. I also couldn't be with someone who had a kid if they didn't put their kid first. Even when a kid isn't a minor anymore, they're still your kid. Especially in today's economy, they probably need some help.

I was definitely not interested in being with someone with a kid. But I met my boyfriend and his kid was grown and I thought I'd see how it went. And here we are. That's how it's gone. 

It's good! We are all here now. The three of us and the cats. I got a full-time job. My boyfriend and I made the move. And his son joined us several months later. It's a better spot for all of us. More jobs, better weather. We like it.

And so here I am, relaxing on the couch on Father's Day ignoring that it's Father's Day because my boyfriend hates it. His son is home upstairs in his room. The cats are napping. We are all content.

I told my boyfriend we could continue to ignore the day, but I'd make him an apple pie next year. That got a smile out of him. 

Apple pie picture and recipe found here on allrecipes.

Consideration Makes a Difference

In my short time at my new job, I've grown to really like my co-workers. All of them. Seriously. I'm having the best work experience of my life. It's long overdue and I don't take it for granted. (It's good to appreciate things while you have them because nothing lasts forever.)

My co-worker friend that was pregnant went on maternity leave a couple of weeks ago. 

(By the way, she thought we were peers and was shocked when I told her I was old enough to be her mother. Hahaha. That never gets old. I'm not glamourizing looking young because I don't even look young anymore. And I don't like promoting the idea that looking young is the ideal. I mention this because I think it's my attitude. I laugh a lot and seem genuinely happy and people assume I'm much younger than I am.)

Well, that was a digression. Anyway!

So my co-worker friend has been out on maternity leave. She texted me yesterday.

"Would you like to see a baby picture?"

Then she texted again.

"If not that's absolutely okay too"

How. Freaking. Considerate.

She just had a baby and still had the wherewithal to consider my feelings. (She knows I couldn't have kids.) And I *did* want to see a picture of the baby. I was waiting to hear he was here. At this point, I don't want to be pregnant or have a newborn (or a toddler or a kid... I'd be fine with a teenager or a young adult). It doesn't make me sad. Instead, I'm happy for my friend. I'm happy for her without being at all sad for me. (Which is a welcome change from 15 years ago!)

I texted back: "You are the freaking BEST to ask!!! And yes I want to see a picture."

She sent two. Neither of them are with her. Just him sleeping. A little man at one or two days old. 

I smiled. I zoomed in on his head of hair. I felt warm inside.

I also just found the last 5 - 6 onesies I kept. They're for a special person... They're my punk rock onesies. Some with cool prints on them. Some with funny sayings. Some with my favorite bands' names. They're all black. I haven't known anyone pregnant that would appreciate them. But I also couldn't just donate them. I collected them over a long time. They're very special to me and some of them are vintage at this point. !!!

This friend will like them. She will at least know who the bands are. So if I see her over the next month (I volunteered to come over and play with her toddler or do laundry or dishes if that would be helpful while she recovers), I'm definitely giving her these onesies. 

But how consider is that?
Asking if I wanted to see a picture of her newborn before just sending it?

And how cool is it that I wanted to see the picture? And that it made me feel good?

I love these cool changes (on my part and others') in this new life I'm living.

Quote and picture found at QuotesGram

Plan E is Enough

After not having kids, my (now ex-) husband and I came up with a Plan B. Then he didn't join me when I moved to another state even though we had been planning it together for the last 3 years. So that brought me to Plan C. I was in a new state by myself. I'm gonna consider it Plan D when, several years later, I bought my little house that I thought I'd be in forever. It was small and affordable, and I thought I could live the rest of my simple life there. But things changed and I needed to move, and that brings me to now.

I think I'm on Plan E. That's perfect. E for enough. I am enough, I've been through enough, I've done enough, and I have enough. The current plan is to do this for as long as I can. I like this chapter of my life. I appreciate my job, and I love my time at home. I've been cooking a little more and that feels good too.

I'm finally coasting. I mean, I'm working hard and resting a lot and trying to stay on top of chores and errands while also making time for sewing and hanging out with my boyfriend. But I'm not grieving or moving or looking for a job, and I am extremely thankful for that.

I still think about my childlessness. It makes my life different in ways that still surprise me.

Who knows what my life would be like if I'd had children. I only know what my life is like right now. And right now my life is good. All current events aside, I am appreciating this moment in time. (Which is, honestly, such a weird thing to do... to be currently experiencing such contrast with good times and bad times. But that's all the more reason to appreciate the good while it's good.) 

It's Sunday and I finally have some routines. Having a regular work schedule really helps. Now I do laundry and clean out the fridge on Sundays. I've started cooking some things I can eat throughout the week. It's a nice reset. I feel organized for the work week. I have food to eat and clean clothes to wear. It was a fun, restful weekend and I already look forward to next Saturday when I will order pizza, sew, and watch movies again. 

Next month we have concert tickets on a Saturday. That will be a nice break in routine. 

Everything about my kids is hypothetical. If I could've had them, they might be old enough to go to the concert with me. If they'd want to. Haha maybe their way of rebelling would be to skip the heavy metal show with their mom and go to some pop concert with a friend.

I don't think about my kids extensively. When I do think about them, they're perpetually 6 & 8 years old or maybe 8 & 10. A son and a daughter. A big brother and his little sister. They are named. But that's the extent of it really. Plus, he/she/they would be older than that by now.

Anyway! I don't have kids and it has impacted my life in every way. But I've had over a decade to process this fact, and I don't often have new thoughts about it. Childlessness is an important part of my story, but it no longer consumes me. Now I pour my energy into myself and my work, home, loved ones, cats, and hobby. Sometimes I feel sad and I feel it. Other times I feel other things and I feel those too.

I came up with a new dream for myself: create a life I want to live. And I did it.

My new dreams include quilts I want to make and exploring my new community. I want to keep getting better at my job. I look forward to making new friends here. I want to exercise and make my body stronger. I'll continue to cook and clean, and one day these tasks will feel easy and enjoyable. (They're already starting to feel enjoyable, but neither are easy yet.) 

I don't plan on ending this blog at all, but if you don't hear from me, that's what all I'm doing. 

Eat, sleep, work, sew. Eventually exercise and socialize. I love it.

In addition to being a cat mom, I also want to eventually be a plant mom too. 
(I hope those mom-centric phrases don't make you cringe too much!) 
It's another lifelong dream of mine. I'd love to have plants alive and thriving throughout my home. 
(Of course, I will look into which plants are safe to have with cats.)

 

 

 

 

A Table is not the Hearth of the Home

I'm tired of furnishing temporary places. When my boyfriend and I moved together for the first time, we knew we weren't staying there past our lease but I didn't understand why he didn't unpack his boxes. I understand now. When you know you're not staying somewhere, it doesn't make sense to totally unpack everything. And now, in addition to not unpacking, I no longer want to buy or acquire things for temporary spaces either.

I've had three homes that I thought I would be in for a long, long time. When I got married, he already had a house and I was fine living there. Then we ended up buying a house for our future children that was closer to his job. I thought we'd be there for at least a decade. Then, when I bought my own little house in a small town, I thought I'd live there forever.

Obviously, I don't live in any of those places anymore, but I'm lucky that I had them. They all felt very happy and secure at the time. Then it was time to move on from each place.

And now I am in my current rental. When I first moved in, I daydreamed about loving the place, buying it, and never moving again. But as much as I like and appreciate my rental, I don't love it. Plus, it's not for sale. Plus, I probably couldn't afford it. So that's that.

I don't have a dining room table in the rental. I gave away the one we had before we moved. We used it for eating, and I used it for sewing. It was fine, but I didn't want any furniture from my former marriage anymore. It was one less thing to move. Then, when we moved here, I bought a new table. It was necessary. It's a work table though. For my sewing machine, not for eating. 

My mom really wants me to have a dining table. She thinks it's important. But it's not important to me. (See the first sentence of this post.) She said something along the lines of, "You need a table. It's important to eat dinner together. It's where you talk about your day."

So I reminded her: "I'm not raising kids." 

"Oh," she said.

I assured her that my boyfriend and I are well aware of each other's days.

She said, "Yeah, when it's just your dad and me, we eat in the tv room a lot." My mom's inability to see my life continues to surprise me. Part of me feels hurt; part of me understands.

And I do want a table. I'm just not buying or acquiring anything for this place.

Happy Other's Day

On this day that doesn't celebrate me in a world that doesn't acknowledge my experiences, I will share with you a couple of things that happened at work this week.

I think we can all agree that I have pretty much stopped giving a shit over the years. I mean, I still worry too much and I still get anxious, but so much that I used to worry about no longer bothers me. And that is a good thing.

Take infertility and being childless not-by-choice for example. I used to be so embarrassed. So ashamed. I would never talk about it. Never admit it.

But things change over time. I am no longer embarrassed. I am no longer ashamed. It's not my fault. I tried my best. This is my life, and I deserve to live it. Like, really live it. Not just go through the motions.

So, now when it comes up in conversation, I just own it. I am involuntarily childless. I wanted kids, and it didn't work out for me. I'm healed enough to where I can speak freely to help normalize it. That means that many of my new co-workers already know that I don't have kids and it's not by choice. I haven't gone on and on about it, but it has come up in conversation.

One of my co-workers is pregnant. She's due in less than a month. I've enjoyed getting to know her. She's really cool. And honestly? I've enjoyed hearing about her 2 year old and her pregnancy. It's not sad for me anymore because that's not where I am in life. At this stage, I don't want a 2 year old or to be pregnant. But I can be excited for my co-worker.

Last week she mentioned that some other co-workers wanted to throw her a baby shower. So I just told her straight up. I said something like, "Oh cool, that's awesome, but I won't be there. I love you and your baby, but I don't go to baby showers." And she was all, "Oh yeah, that's fine. I don't even know if it's going to happen." It just felt so normal. Neither one of us was sad or defensive or uncomfortable. It was all just a matter of fact.

Then, later in the week, one of my other co-workers (a guy, that's an important detail) said at the end of a meeting, "Oh yeah! It's Mother's Day this weekend!" I know he's married but doesn't have kids. So I was confused. I asked, "I don't mean to sound rude, but... Why do you care? Why do you care if it's Mother's Day?" And he said so he could remember to call his mom. Of course! "Oh, yes, that makes sense," I said. And he laughed and said, "Oh yeah, I'm definitely never going to be a mother." And I immediately laughed and said, "Yeah, me neither!" He quickly looked down and looked like he felt kind of awkward. He learned I couldn't have kids a couple of months ago. But the awkwardness didn't linger (I don't think). Well, anyway, any feelings he had about the situation are his. I thought it was pretty funny.

And then at the end of the week, I ran into another co-worker in the break room. It was just us two. She had previously asked about my research and, when I told her it was about involuntary childlessness, she quickly replied, "I could be in your study!" That's all that she shared, but I think it's safe to assume that she has tried or is trying to get pregnant. I know that she doesn't have kids. So, anyway, when I saw her in the break room and it was just us two I told her that I told the other co-worker that if there was a baby shower at work I wouldn't be attending. And this co-worker said that she had forgotten about that and that she needed to plan something before our co-worker was out for maternity leave. So I leaned in and said, "Or not. You don't have to do that if you don't want to. And if someone else plans something, you don't have to go. I'm not. Of course, you can go if you want to. But I'm here to remind you that you never have to go." She smiled and said thanks.

And that was my week at work. Taking up space and not being silent. I'm not a crusader for childlessness, but I'm not invisible either. I am worthy. My experiences are worthy. My life is worthy. It just looks different from a lot of other people's.

Happy Other's Day! I see you. I like you. I love you. You're wonderful.

You are worthy. 

 

Finally Doing Less

Today I went to work, did my job, and came home. That's it. No errands, no chores. My boyfriend made dinner. I sat on the couch with a kitty on my lap. It was great. I loved it.

I'm taking the time to recognize that I just had a day that I've wanted to have for a very long time.

I'm not recovering from burnout. I did that for a year. I'm not following through with a bunch of previous commitments I made. I got through all those. I'm not looking for a job. Luckily, I found one. I'm not moving. I did that already. I'm not creating a new department. I did that too. 

Now I get to go to work and come home and live my simple life. I'm giddy.

I'm finally doing less. Not running myself ragged. 

I've been feeling good about myself lately. I've always struggled with the never-ending household stuff. But I started doing my laundry on Sundays a couple of years ago, and now I find myself doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen, going to the grocery store, and cooking a meal (with planned leftovers) on Sundays. It started with one habit and grew. 

I'm doing less, but in other ways, I'm doing more. With ease.

More Thoughts On Change

I've heard something interesting from women since I started seeing clients over the last couple of months. When their kids aren't with them (like, they're at their dad's because the parents are no longer together), the women find it harder to take care of themselves and their home. I've heard more than one woman tell me, "It's easier to do what I need to do when I have to do it for my kids." These women love their children. Even when their health is not good, they power up for their children. But when it's just them? They don't/won't/can't.

I can relate.

It's honestly validating, although I don't say anything to my clients in the moment. That wouldn't be appropriate. But I always thought it would be easier to do the basics, like prepare dinner every night, if I had kids that I needed to feed. If I had a routine that was dictated by my kids' schedules. To hear other women say that raising children actually makes some things easier is a message I don't hear a lot. I appreciate their honesty with me.

I assumed I was going to be a mother for 35 years. Now I've known I'm not going to be a mother for 11 years. Lately, I've been noticing my growth and progress and, quite honestly, I've been feeling so good about myself. I never stayed where it felt wrong for me. I went back to school for a better career. I got divorced. I moved around. I quit bad jobs. I bought a house. I moved again. Now I'm selling that house. I'm maintaining my laundry and dishes. I've kept up with my annual check-ups. I go to work and I pay my bills. I eat breakfast and lunch and meal plan for dinner twice a week. I have a good relationship with myself and my boyfriend. I text lots of girlfriends throughout the week. I'm doing it. I'm living life.

It's a total change from 12 years ago when I wasn't showering regularly, eating well, working, socializing, or doing anything fun.

I've been thinking a lot about motivation lately. Why do we sometimes do what we don't want to do in order to get the things we want? Why do we sometimes just think about what we want but never do anything differently? What helps us change? What impedes our change? What, why, how?

And... I don't know. 

But I'll probably be thinking about it for the rest of my life. I'm thinking it's a combination of individual factors and societal systems. Biology, psychology and sociology are so interesting. The interplay among the three is fascinating.

But, yeah, if you have any thoughts on the topic of change and/or motivation and/or anything else related, I'm all ears. I'm always collecting information to share with others. We all deserve to enjoy our lives.

Change is Hard but Worth It

I went for a walk. It was wonderful, but even doing something wonderful that's new requires doing something different. I haven't gone for a second walk yet. It's been raining and then I got sick. But, I'm going to! It felt so good to be outside, move my legs, and look at the grass and trees.

New habits are hard to create.

New lives are heard to create.

But like I always say, what's the alternative? 

Stay where I was? Live in the beautiful 4-bedroom, 3-bathroom, 2-story house with my husband who drank at the sports bar 3 - 5 times a week? Um, no. Absolutely not. Living in my children's house without my children was not an option for me. Not if I wanted to stay alive. I am that serious. Staying married when I could be lonely by myself was also not what I wanted for myself. I deserved more than that.

I gave myself a better life, and I did it by myself. I haven't received any emotional support from my family of origin for my lack of children, my divorce, or the loss of life as I thought it was going to be. I forged the way forward on my own at first, and then I found bloggers in front of me, beside me, and behind me along the way. 

Change isn't easy. That's why most people don't do it. Changing your life takes a lot of work.

That first step can feel impossible.

For me, it was registering to take Anatomy & Physiology I and II at the local community college. The task felt so ovewhelming. There was doing it, like figuring out how to sign up for the class, which overwhelmed me. Then there was following through with it, like actually going to class and doing assignments, which also overwhelmed me.

So I didn't do it. I didn't register for the classes. I didn't go and I didn't have to do the homework.

Then another year passed. And I was in the exact same position. Living in my children's house without my children. Bored. Lonely. Depressed. Still dreading Anatomy & Physiology I & II.

So I did it anyway.

I went online. Created an account. Figured out how to register. Showed up for class. Did my homework. And cried every night.

I didn't want to, but I did it anyway.

Both classes eventually ended. I passed. I applied for grad school, got in, and the rest is history. While I didn't love grad school, I now have a job that I don't hate. Not only do I not hate it, I actually love it. I mean, it's still a job. I work too much and I'd rather not, but, hey, at least I like it!

Change can't wait until we are ready. Change can't wait until we are comfortable. The comfort we're seeking is on the other side of change. Just like with grief, we have to do the work. Well, we GET to do the work. We don't HAVE to do anything. We are totally allowed to stay where we are.

But if you want something different?

You have to cross the street.

You have to take that first step that gets you to the park. And then you have to walk at the park. And then you have to keep going back. And then later, much later (muuuch later than you want, but also time flies so it'll be here sooner than you know it), you'll feel better.

Time passes either way. You can take the class. You can walk at the park.
Or you can stay where you are.

You get to create your life, one decision and one small action (or inaction) at a time.

Change takes time. The Colorado River didn't carve the Grand Canyon in a day.

Picture found here