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.

Save Yourself

My last post was about other people's writing saving me. Then I read Loribeth's post, What's Saving My Life Right Now. I forgot that she did this post every year in February. I like it.

It's a tough time. I'm not going to go into detail or commentary about any of it, nationally or internationally. But even on a smaller individual level, everyone I'm close to currently has major stressors in their lives. Maybe there will always be stress... But then, that's what makes it even more important to consider what helps us get through. I often think about what helps me.

I also love lists. So I wanted to think about, in addition to other people's writing, what's saving my life right now. Off the top of my head...

• Myself. I've learned a lot of things over the last decade: how to redirect my thoughts, how to have boundaries and why, how to quilt. I enjoy my own company and that's pretty cool.
  
  
• My boyfriend. He listens a lot. And he loves me. And we disagree and miscommunicate. And we laugh a lot. I'm actually at a place mentally where I would be fine by myself. I don't feel scared or insecure or lonely anymore. I'd be fine. But I'm glad I have my boyfriend. He adds a lot to my life.
  
  
• My cat(s). How did I live without a pet for so long? Well, it's very easy to not have a pet. It's very easy and affordable. Haha. But we were petsitting my boyfriend's son's cat and I fell in love and I needed a second cat for whenever we didn't have the first cat anymore and a kitten came into our lives and the first cat never left and...
  Now we have two cats. I love them. They are cute and funny and have their own personalities. One of the cats is definitely mine. He falls asleep with me at night and wakes me up in the morning. And oh my god I am writing a full paragraph about how much I love my cat, hahaha. But I do.
  
  Let's see... What else is saving my life right now...
  
  
• My job and my bills. Seriously. It's so easy to complain about work because we are there alllll the time, and it's easy to complain about bills because they're sooo expensive. But also? I like having a job. It means I'm not looking for a job, which is extremely stressful. I also like paying my bills because I'm glad for the services. It would suck without electricity, indoor plumbing, and trash pickup. My job and my bills are providing for my life, so they're saving me.
  
  
• My slow cooker! I've always struggled with what to eat every day, having stuff on hand, chopping stuff, cooking, and cleaning up after. I like the results of the effort. I like to eat tasty food. But, come on, figuring out what to eat multiple times a day every day? It's hard for some people. Like me. But! I am really excited because I've used my slow cooker once a week for the last 4 weeks. It's awesome coming home from work and smelling a homecooked meal that's already ready.
  
  
• Having something to look forward to. That's definitely saving my life. With the move behind me and the new job started, I live here now. It still doesn't feel like it, but I do. I live here and this is my life now. Lol. It's been awhile since I've lived in a city so I looked around for things to do. I found a couple of sewing workshops that I registered for and a couple of shows that I bought tickets for. And just like that, I have plans for 2026! Not too much. I don't want to be busy. But I've got several things to look forward to. And that saves me.
  
  

What's saving your life right now?

Here's a photo dump of other things that are bringing me joy, a.k.a. saving my life, right now.

I love stuffed animals. I saw this last weekend in a toy store. It's a jar of strawberry jam. So cute!

After months of having it packed, I unpacked my sewing machine and sewed an easy pot holder.
It's quilted with insulated batting using variegated thread.
Variegated thread (where it changes colors from one to another) always makes me happy.

I unpacked some embroidery floss I bought last year. I took a workshop about decorative stitches last month, and I'm going to try a little embroidery.

I sewed a cute little starfish with simple felt, stuffing, needle, and thread--
the kind of affordable supplies you buy from a craft store.
In retrospect, it was a nice activity because I held the soft, colorful felt and stared at it while I sewed. It was a nice break from looking at a screen and I enjoyed the colors and the feel of the felt. Hand sewing this starfish was like a little meditation practice.

Hot chocolate. On a cold day. The sprinkles were a happy surprise!  

July 4th Anniversaries

I want you to choose yourself.

I want you to fiercely protect your peace.

I want you to pursue what inspires and nourishes you.

Infertility changed me.

Being childless-not-by-choice changed me.

The pandemic changed me.

2024 alone changed me.

Pic from SelfLoveRainbow

We have ONE LIFE.

(Thank you Tom Petty!)

Pic retrieved from this tribute post

I've shared that I hit extreme burnout last year. It was awful. I took the whole month of December off. I went to work and that was it. No meetings, no appointments, no traveling. I went to the grocery store and checked the mail. I did the bare minimum.

Then I spent the first 6 months of 2025 following through but not adding anything. I went to work. I went to appointments. I finished a quilt top, the hardest one I've sewn so far! And I am so close to finishing the draft of my research article that is good enough to submit for publication. (If accepted, I will get it back with lots of edits to make. But I want to submit the best work I can.)

I feel sooo much better. There are physical signs. Instead of sleeping 10-12 hours a night, I am sleeping 8-9 hours a night. There are emotional signs. When I feel stressed, I can breathe and talk myself through it instead of falling apart or shutting down. There are spiritual signs. I feel more connected to something bigger than me. I refuse to give up. I will continue living my little life sharing the light I have with everyone that comes into my orbit.

*****

July 4th.
Yesterday was a contrast in anniversaries. 

One year ago yesterday I received a phone call from my niece where she was unexpectedly and very shockingly rude, hateful, and condescending to me. When I shared a little about that phone call with other close family members, nobody reacted much. I had to explain why what she said and did was so wrong. It changed everything. It was/is very, very hard for me. I still think about it often. I give myself grace. We navigate and manage what comes our way the best way we can in the moment.

On the other hand, four years ago yesterday my boyfriend and I moved into our home. If we are still at this address next year, it will be the longest I've ever lived anywhere in my life. I cannot describe the feelings that my home gives me, but... I bought this house for the life I have now. I never planned on or even imagined raising children here. And logistically, I haven't had to change my address for the last four years. I haven't had to shut off and start up a bunch of different utilities and services. I haven't had to pack up everything and move it. 

I've been allowed to just be.

I want that for you. Prioritize your well-being.

I'll leave you with another July 4th anniversary.
Six years ago I wrote this post: The Cost of My Freedom

Pic retrieved from Ontario Science Centre

Just Feeling Good and Living My Life

I don't have any saved drafts for this blog. For each post I just open up a new post and start writing. I read over it a couple of times and then hit publish. So every post catches my thoughts as they come.

Lately, I've been noticing how involuntary childlessness has been integrated in my life. It's a formative part of my identity, but it is not the entirety of my being. Things that used to hurt deeply only sting now. Things that used to sting don't always even register anymore. I can't tell you how nice it is to be on this side of things. I know I'm not going to have children and I've changed my entire life from what it looked like when I thought I was going to have kids. Every single thing I've done was hard, but it all helped.

I love my life. In fact, this is my most favorite age yet. I'm 45 and I've been so damn reflective that it's almost starting to get on my nerves haha. I've read several good books about boundaries over the last couple of years. I've observed my lifelong behavioral patterns and relationships. I've thought about how I want to be and what kind of relationships I want to be in. I've given myself and my loved ones a shitload of grace as I did the behind-the-scenes work that I desperately needed to do as an extremely sensitive person in order to live and enjoy the rest of my life. Everything has changed. Every single thing. 

My home. My jobs. My relationships.

And it's awesome.

And it was so, so hard.

But it all supports who I am now and what my life is like now. 

I made a new friend. She's so cool! She's my age and funny and smart and awesome and... pregnant. I am not kidding. But guess what. We see each other almost every week. I don't want to be pregnant anymore, but she does. I can acknowledge the fears and worries she may have while everyone else around her is celebrating. I can also give her "a break" from her pregnancy because we actually don't talk about it. Hahaha. Maybe that's a nice break for her. 

But who would have thought I'd have a new friend at 45 who is also 45 who is pregnant?

Unexpected. (No pun intended but I'm leaving it in there, ha!)

Oh yeah... I also got another part-time job! It's working with kids. Haha. Yes, after I wrote that recent post about not working with kids (full-time), I interviewed for the position I mentioned and it honestly sounds like a perfect fit. I am so excited. It feels good to be excited. The job pays well and I'll be able to use my experience and expertise to support kids and their teachers. It's a low-tech school where they still teach phonics. (Both things were requirements for me to work there... I mean why try to work with kids in an environment where they are always on screens? That wouldn't work for me. It's essential to know yourself.)

I am so excited.

Do you know how good it feels to be excited about things?

I went to a quilt guild meeting last week. There was a woman there who showed eight different quilts during show and tell. She and I were talking during the break. She was in an accident several years ago that changed everything. She is not able to work full-time and will deal with the repercussions of the accident for the rest of her life. But she discovered quilting and is able to quilt in short bursts at a time. Like me, she is so excited to be excited about something again.

Enthusiasm is priceless.

So as I reflect on the first 45 years of my life and think about how transformative last year alone was, I think about how I want the second half of my life to be. Obviously, I can't control what happens, but I can somewhat manage how I interpret and experience whatever happens. I've realized that I've encountered a lot of abuse in my life and, while that is not my fault, I can now realize how I can be a part of some situations while excusing myself from others so that I don't deal with abuse anymore.

It feels good to look forward knowing that I'm taking all that I've learned with me. It feels good when things that used to bother me (related to childlessness or not) don't bother me anymore. It feels good to get a new job doing what I used to do and feel so excited about it.

I knew I wouldn't be in a dark hole forever and I'm so glad that's true.

A light in the dark. 

Pic retrieved from Wikipedia.

Six Month Check-In

It's been almost six months since I took the month of December off and did as little as possible. After a very, very hard year that followed a very tough 10+ year period, I was not well. I was physically exhausted in a way that required extended rest. I pretty much just went to work and came home to my recliner. It wasn't a party. It was necessary.

I was reminded of this when I finally started watching the documentary Simone Biles Rising last weekend. The short series started out with footage from the Tokyo Olympics where she had the twisties and could not safely compete. She said our bodies and minds can only take so much before we break. It's an important reminder to listen to ourselves.

"We have to protect our mind and body,

rather than just go out there and do what the world wants us to do."

-Simone Biles

I experienced major burnout last year. The symptoms were physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual, you name it--it affected me. I felt like I was going to break. I felt like either my body or my brain was going to give out or maybe both. I had to conserve as much energy as possible.

So for the whole month of December I did as little as possible. I went to work and I rested. I did not travel for the holidays. I did not pick up any extra shifts at work. I did not make any appointments or attend any meetings. I kept myself fed and I slept a lot. I managed to sew the monthly quilt block for my sew along group but only because I wanted to.

In January I had the opportunity to work more shifts so I did. I also scheduled some necessary home repairs. And I continued to rest, which meant missing a lot of fun stuff, but I knew I wasn't going to feel better until I took an extended period to do less.

I finally found some routines and rhythm to my life by the spring. I noticed I was feeling better.

Over the last several years, I've made a conscious effort to learn more about boundaries. During my recovery from burnout, I was able to practice a lot of what I've learned. Boundaries are magical. You learn what they are, why they're necessary, and how to have them, and it's a total game changer! You feel lighter, more at ease. Of course, you have to do the work to get there...

But daaang, is it worth it.

So I have spent the last six months recovering, and I feel A TON better. I'm still not at 100% and I'm starting to realize, with age and experience, that my "100%" may have changed too.

And I'm fine with that.

Life is a lot. There is a lot to do. A lot to deal with, a lot to manage, a lot to maintain. It can be easier or harder by yourself, in partnerships, and/or in communities. There's just no easy way. 

But if you've been going too hard for too long, examine where you can do less. Prioritize what's most important (e.g., your annual checkups) and leave the rest for the fall or even next year. 

Take a season to do less. Eat, sleep, and hydrate daily. Go to work and do something you enjoy weekly. If possible, don't schedule more than one or two errands or appointments a day. Is there a whole day of the week where you can just be at home, take out the trash, clean out the fridge, and do some dishes and laundry? Can you put on your favorite movie or music while you do this? Throw some ingredients in a slow cooker and let the smell of a home cooked meal comfort you.

Rest. Recover. Restore. That's what I've been doing. I don't want to break this early on. 

I want to feel good and be well! I've got things I want to do!

Image above by Self-Love Rainbow

After Ten Years

Making sense of things was a privilege I had before enduring infertility. 

The illusion of certainty, of logic being ever-present, of things working out are long, long, long gone.

I have no hope and very rarely use the word anymore.

This foundational shift in my existence prepared me to handle a pandemic. The shattering of my beliefs is helping me live alongside whatever the hateful hell is going on around me. 

But this blog has never been about the bigger picture. It's always been about me and my little life and how I dealt with what was the worst thing I could ever imagine (i.e., not getting to be a mom).

I'm okay. My little life is okay. I don't know about the future. I have no clue. I feel secure with my house, but, considering all of my jobs have been in education, healthcare, research, and non-profits, I'm not sure what employment will be available to me over the next several decades. 

It's just really weird to work so hard for so long to create a life I want to live and when I finally arrive and can take a year to just breathe and be, the institutions and infrastructures within my country, not to mention our international relationships, drastically change.

How can someone be so hopeless and exhausted but still be content and, for lack of a better word, happy? I don't know that answer either, even though I'm living it. I AM happy. I'm also sad, frustrated, and angry. I'm also at a place where I realize I can't do anything about anything. 

I've been fighting uphill battles my entire life. Here's just one. My first year of teaching was 22 years ago. I sounded the alarm then. Our kids need to learn to read and write! Our kids need more time to play! It fell on deaf ears to the people in charge. Parents didn't listen. Administrators didn't listen. And I can't fight and stay mad throughout the duration of my entire life. It will kill me.

So here I am. A Gen X woman, divorced, couldn't have kids, on her third career, still underpaid, and tired of shouting into the void about what society needs.

I'm done. But I don't count it as giving up. That would be giving in. I'm not doing that. I am not going to sit here or lie around and hate my life. I am going to find the parts I like and enjoy those things. I will continue to feel all of my feelings, but I will always come back to the three questions I've learned to ask myself.

What do I want?
What do I need?
Is this my problem to manage?

Because, eventually, after ten years of redesigning your life, you get to a point where, really, the problems aren't yours. You've addressed your problems, worked through some, accepted others, and moved on. Most of the problems are society's or other people's. Not yours.

Do your own work.

And you will be free.

a soaring phoenix found at stockcake.com

A Preemptive Text

I have an acquaintance who was about to become a grandmother. She was, understandably, very excited about it. I thought about the previous year when her oldest child got married. She was very excited about that too. She shared hundreds of wedding pictures with me, which I didn't mind. She was excited, the pictures were pretty, and it was a very happy event.

But I thought about those hundreds of wedding pictures of people I will never meet when she sent out a group text that the baby was born and all went well. Mother and baby were healthy.

I know myself. I know that newborn pics, especially where the new mom is holding the newborn, are hard for me. I limit myself to pictures of only people I care about, not people I don't even know. I thought I better get ahead of this.

So I sent her a preemptive text message. I wrote, "Congrats on grandmotherhood!! I'll have to catch you beforehand and request that you don't send me any newborn pics. I can explain in person if you're curious. Thank you!"

I felt kind of proud of myself. It was a polite text that didn't overshare. I didn't feel self-conscious for writing or sending it. I was glad I had the idea and sent it before I was bombarded with pics.

And do you know what this acquaintance said the first time I saw her when she got back in town?

She literally said, "I know you said you didn't want to see any newborn pictures, but do you want to see just one?"

"No" was my swift, immediate, and one-word reply. 

What the hell?? Someone sends you a text like that and you still try to show them baby pictures? She has no idea what my experiences are, and she obviously doesn't care. Or, she at least didn't stop and think for even one second.

My flat reply made another friend laugh. She was right there, knows my story, knows this acquaintance, and laughed out loud at my immediate "no." I did not feel laughed AT. I felt empowered. I said no, did not explain myself, and could not possibly have cared any less.

Geeez, what a clueless acquaintance!

Not Traveling for the Holidays

I'm not traveling for the holidays this year.

In 2016 I missed celebrating the holidays with my family for the first time ever. After enduring several painful holidays during infertility (including one where I traveled with my IVF medications), I finally realized that traveling for the holidays was exactly what I DIDN'T need and stayed home. It sucked and I was sad, but I still knew I was picking the least painful of my options. 

I didn't travel in 2017 either. Because of infertility.

In 2018 I went to my parents' home for the holidays and had a wonderful time with everyone.

In 2019 I missed the holidays with my family again when I was busy rebuilding my life and working two professional jobs in a different state. I was working five days a week teaching middle school and working the weekends at the hospital. I didn't have time to travel. I didn't have time for anything except to get myself established in my new state.

In 2020 there was the pandemic so, once again, I didn't travel to see my family for the holidays. 

I traveled in 2021, but I was terrified. Despite being vaccinated and masked, it took a lot for me to board a plane and spend time with loved ones from multiple households (especially knowing that nobody else was masking anymore). I was the only person in a mask all weekend and it was tough. But it was still good to see everyone.

I traveled for the holidays in 2022 and 2023 and had a grand ol' time.

This year I'm not. I'm not traveling for the holidays again, but it has nothing to do with infertility or the pandemic. I am flat out tired. I took nine trips this year, and I don't even like to travel. I'm grateful for the opportunities. I got to visit my best friend from college and meet her kids. I got to present my research at five different conferences. I saw my parents several times throughout the year. It was all great. I'm just tired.

And so I am done. For 2024. Hahaha. But seriously... 

I'm done with meetings and commitments and commuting. I am definitely done traveling. I warned my family when I saw some of them a couple of weeks ago that I was not going to be traveling anymore this year. We already have time planned together in February so I reminded them of that. My parents and older sister seemed to understand, and I appreciated it. It always feels good to feel understood, even if that feeling is somewhat foreign.

What do YOU need? 

What do you WANT?

They are seemingly simple questions but can be deceptively difficult to answer.

Just put those questions in the back of your mind.
Let them simmer. Let the answers come to you. You don't have to work for them.

I give you permission to rest. You have done enough.

The pictures above are all accurate depictions of me. 😂
They were all found in the public domain by searching "relaxing at home clip art" for images, and they represent my plans for the rest of the year: eating, sleeping, and sewing. Also, I recently found a video game that I really like (first one since, like, 1992!) so I'll be playing that too. And slowly but surely, I'll organize my house. But that's all fun for me. Of course I'll have to go to work too. But that's my only responsibility. Oh and a dentist appointment for a cleaning.
Anyway, I digress...  Do what you want to do.

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.

Well Received

I am happy to share that the research I presented last month was well received. It was a great opportunity to conduct the research in the first place, and it is just as important to disseminate the information. I plan to share the information at future conferences. I will also write an article about the study and submit it for publication to an academic journal. I want to get the information in the hands of people who will use it.

Which is everyone. Nobody is untouched by infertility and living childless not-by-choice. Everyone has a family member dealing with it. Or a co-worker that you don't know about. Or a client. Or an acquaintance. Or a friend. Whether we know they're going through it or not, odds are we all know someone, at least peripherally.

In order to develop effective support programs to help people transitioning to involuntary childlessness, we need to understand the lived experience. We need to know: what are the common experiences, factors, and needs among this growing population? Research exploring this phenomenon can help get the ball rolling for future program development.

So, back to it being well received... It was! I wish you could have been there. It's not like a ton of people stopped by my little spot, but if just one person stopped by and asked me a question, the trip would be worth it. And it was worth it. Everyone was interested in the research results for different reasons. People were interested in everything from the methodology to sharing they were going (or went through) the experience to asking how to support loved ones who are going through it. Connections were made and many meaningful conversations were had. 

And then I crashed. I slept so hard that night. I don't know why I didn't think to anticipate it, but talking about infertility and involuntary childlessness was exhausting. 

It was also awesome. I'm so grateful for the opportunity. It's priceless to feel so well received.

On the opposite of that, I have received some unsupportive comments on this blog in the last several months. I don't know why someone would want to read what I write unless they're trying to cope with their worst nightmare. I definitely don't mean to sound like I'm judging fertile people. I'm just working through my own anguish. But, I also have learned I don't need to explain myself.

So I'll be stepping away from this space for a while. I've made some really good friends here, and I encourage anyone reading to reach out and build a community for yourself. There are other people out there who will understand. 

You are allowed to grieve. You can heal. You deserve to enjoy your life.

I will leave my posts up for now. Maybe I'll take them down eventually or maybe they can hang out in the ether forever. I don't know yet.

Thank you all. Thank you for saving my will to live. I love my life, and I don't take that for granted.

Above is the March Hare with his spilled tea for The Mad Quilt Party at Art East Quilting Co.
I've had a lot of fun doing this sew along with the monthly mystery block since September.
It ends next month and I'm looking forward to learning what the next sew along will be.

Finally Resting

I am getting so excited. I get to share my research about involuntary childlessness later this month. I'm nervous too, but mostly excited. If just one person stops by my poster to ask about my research, I will be so happy. My presentation handout has been submitted, and I have my poster printed and ready to go. One of my professors recommended getting a fabric poster, and I'm so glad she did. It will be easier to carry on the plane. I'll share next month how it goes!

That's pretty much all that is on my mind. 

Other than that, I'll be honest, I am enjoying living alone so far. It gives me the space for the rest that I desperately need. I'm going to work, paying the bills, doing the dishes and laundry, cooking a little bit, eating delicious leftovers, and doing something social every week. I will figure out how to add housecleaning and exercising to my routine as well.

Other than that, I am resting. 

Radically resting. 

Profoundly resting. 

When my last round of IVF did not result in pregnancy, I felt an extreme urgency to figure something else out for my life. I had planned on being a mother for 35 years, but then I had to completely switch gears, think of something else, and make it happen. And I felt this strange urge to start THEN. Not wait until I felt better. Not wait a minute longer. 

And I never stopped. I just kept going. 

And now I am resting. I'm equally tired and grateful. I have my home. I get along with my family and see them several times a year. I like where I live and what I do for work. I've got hobbies and interests. I've even made some new friends over the last year. I'm part of a professional association and a monthly social group. And I'm not making any more commitments than that. 

My life is so full. 

But for so long, my life felt so empty...
It began with empty arms and spread to my very existence.

I am glad to be on this side of things now. Eternally grateful.
There is always the other side to things... Keep moving through it.

And be sure to rest.

For me, resting looks like this: giving myself permission to do less, making warm tasty food at home, taking baths, taking naps, sewing, reading a book or magazine, looking out the window, taking slow deep breaths, relaxing my shoulders, and telling myself that I'm proud of myself. 

How do you rest?

Infertility Changes Things

I am halfway through my pediatrics coverage for my co-worker who is out on maternity leave and... I just don't like it. Quite honestly, it has been messing with my mind. I have always loved kids, always loved working with kids. But apparently, I am freaking over it.

I've said before that I never intended to have a career working with kids. I became a teacher to kill time until I became a stay-at-home mom. Spoiler alert: that never happened. Then I kept working with kids because that is what I knew and what I was good at.

I was really resisting the idea that infertility changed that for me. But I'm starting to be honest with myself. Infertility and being childless not-by-choice DID change it for me. I accept that now.

Infertility changes everything.

It's not entirely infertility's fault. There are some other factors that I just don't like now. When I started working with children, there were no iPads. Kids were not constantly plugged in. Kids did not expect to be entertained all of the time. Kids eventually got bored and felt motivated to read or to engage in creative play. Not anymore.

But infertility IS a major part of why I don't like teaching or working in pediatrics anymore. I don't want to deal with the consequences of other people's parenting. (Or the lack thereof.) I didn't get to parent, so I don't know kids' pop culture anymore. And I don't care. I still haven't seen Frozen, which is old by now, and I know I never will.

It's a world I'm not a part of. I've created a whole new world for myself, one that honors who and where I am now. Going back into pediatrics feels like major regression. It also makes me irritable. Just ask my boyfriend. (Thanks for the support, babe! It's almost over.)

I also traveled and saw my family this weekend. That is different too.

I talked to one of my aunts about my research project, involuntary childlessness after infertility. She was very receptive and even read my powerpoint presentation. I used to not be able to talk about the topic at all, especially with fertile people. That has changed.

I got along with my mom too. That's new. Of course, I am giving myself full credit for that one because she is still difficult. But I just don't care anymore. Not like I used to. Her personality is not my fault, and I am not going to make it my problem. I stood up for myself when needed, but mostly I just redirected the conversation to better topics when ugliness started rearing its head. 

At one point she was trying to tell me what my boyfriend and his young adult son should be doing. I told her that her comments were full of judgment, and she argued with that. But I did not acquiesce. She has not made an effort to get to know my boyfriend and his life, nor does she know much about his son. In addition to telling her how judgmental she was being I said, "I don't have to worry about any of that. I don't have kids."

She started arguing with me!!!

She said, "Well, that's not true." (It's not true that I don't have kids??) She continued, "You take care of a lot of people. His son is living in your house right now so that gives you a say. You take care of your patients. You take care of..." I cut her off. I simply said, "I. Don't. Have. Kids. All I have to take care of is myself."

Geez, she is such a control freak. And a self-professed expert on everyone else's lives.

Anyway, sorry about that. I just needed to vent about my mother who will never get it.

But I HAVE changed. I DO care less. I don't expect her to understand, and I've stopped explaining myself. It's progress. And I have infertility to thank for that.

Infertility changes everything.

Breath of Fresh Air

Well, this semester is off to a running start! Instead of taking three classes, the program broke one of the classes into two, so I am taking four classes!! Maybe it won't be as overwhelming as it sounds right now...

So, get this. I had a positive experience with CNBC disclosure with one of my new professors. 

But first, if you want to go back in time and remember how horrible the professors were in my first program, feel free to reread this gem here: Self-Care Above All Else.

Ok, now back to the present! You can use this story to scrub your brain of that 2017 post.

In one of my classes we will have to complete three group projects with the same group. Although I like all of my classmates, I felt a little apprehensive about who would be in my group and what our topic would be. I had previously expressed an interest in women's health but then realized what that could lead to.

I quickly emailed the professor before the groups were assigned. I just flat out said I was an involuntarily childless survivor of infertility and failed IVF and, although I had expressed an interest in a group about women's health, I did not want to get stuck reading articles about pregnancy and post-partum issues. I told her that while I had healed immensely, I still avoided most things baby-related.

And do you know what she wrote back?

She wrote something along the lines of, "Thank you so much for letting me know. Of course, that makes sense, and I will definitely take that into consideration when forming the groups."

Gahhh that felt good! Recognition and validation without judgment or discomfort. It was worth waiting years to hear that kind of support.

And then you know what else?

I got assigned to be in a group with my two friends I've made in the program. And they both happen to be around my age, and neither of them has kids. I am pumped! I'm going to suggest animal therapy for our topic...

Know Your Limits

The second semester of my doctoral program is coming to an end. I don't know why, but I am still always surprised at how tired I am at the end. Yesterday I wrote a simple discussion post for one of my classes and promptly passed out for two hours.

Sometimes I wonder how I'd have the energy to raise children.

But NOPE!

When I have that thought, I quickly redirect my thinking. If I was raising children, I would do it. I would find the necessary energy. I mean, I've worked with thousands of kids. I've been in countless classrooms of 20 - 30 of them at a time. And none of them were even mine! 

So I would've been fine. I would've been tired, but I would've been fine. Hell, I'm tired now. I think all adults are tired. This society doesn't value rest and it can be hard to find the time ourselves. (Side rant: Why does *everything* fall on the individual to solve??)

But I digress.

So, school. Finishing up the semester.

I'm lucky to be in a really good cohort. My classmates are smart, hard working, and experienced in a variety of settings. I am learning so much from everyone. We also help each other a lot. People will send each other articles they come across if they know it's on someone else's topic. We will zoom or group text to talk about our questions and confusion. It's really positive.

All of our research topics are varied. I mean, the topics are really all over the board. Everyone knows I'm studying women who are involuntarily childless after infertility, and everyone has been very supportive. Interestingly, one of my classmates is studying the opposite of my topic. She's researching post-partum health and wellness for women. We have had several conversations with each other about our topics and have shared articles with each other as we've found them.

It's truly been awesome collaborating with her.
We both agree that there is a severe lack of support for all women.

However...

We must always know our limits.

She asked me for help with one of her assignments. I looked at the topic of her articles for the assignment. Lactation.

Friends.
I couldn't do it.
I couldn't read two articles about new mothers and lactation.

And that's okay. It's okay that I don't want to read about that topic. I don't have to. It's fine. My aversion to the topic is not a judgment against me. It's just me protecting myself. Conserving my energy by shielding my heart.

I let her know I couldn't help because the topic was too difficult for me. She completely got it, even apologizing for asking (which wasn't necessary). I wasn't mad at her or sad for me. I just knew I couldn't put any time or energy into reading her articles.

We must know our limits and respect them.

It's Okay to Quit

Well, here's a shocker: "quitting" being promoted in the news. 

A news article published yesterday starts out describing a guy training for a marathon. He feels a pain in his foot but keeps training. Ultimately, he has to give up training due to a fracture in his foot. He does not run the marathon. He had to "quit." 

The article states, "From the moment most of us are born, we're told to never give up--and to try again (and again) if we fail."

Sound familiar?
We've all heard that before...

But wait, there's more!

The article actually uses infertility as an example. As the article goes into more detail about potential consequences of not quitting, it describes a couple enduring infertility and going through treatments. The article describes the couple's mental health as suffering and their life savings as affected. The article actually PROMOTES QUITTING and says, "It's brave to say, 'I am willing to abandon my goal to create space in my heart and mind for something else meaningful.'"

Wow.
I am shocked. 

Three cheers for mainstream news telling us it's okay to quit!

This image is from one of my favorite websites.
Although not as serious as quitting fertility treatments or a job,
here is another article telling you it's okay to quit. 

Full Heart, Empty Arms

A couple of weeks ago, I held a baby. It was on accident. But it still happened.

It began with me playing with a baby. After our last trip moving out of the storage unit, my boyfriend and I stopped by his parents' house to visit while they were babysitting his sister's youngest. I thought, oh hell, why not... Then I jumped in and started playing. 

I love to play. I never forgot how. I can play with all ages, levels, and abilities. Well, until they start playing video games... That's my exit point. I hate video games.

But back to playing with this 15 month old... He was fun. He was cute. He was easy. We played with Hot Wheels and some Legos and a jack-in-the-box toy with Curious George. 

My boyfriend's dad walked by and, not knowing that I do NOT hold babies, picked the kid up and placed him in my lap.

And that's how I ended up holding a baby for the first time in over 8 years.

It was okay. I don't necessarily recommend it. I probably won't do it again. Not voluntarily anyway.

It's not that I don't like to hold babies. It's just that my arms feel so empty afterward.

I know my own kids would be grown by now and I wouldn't be holding them. But I would have all those memories and lots of pictures to comfort me. Plus, I'd be their mom. They would still come crying to me with their problems and I could hold them then, no matter their age. (Well, they probably would... We all know that nothing is guaranteed.)

I held a baby. I didn't hate it. I didn't cry afterward. It would have been fine if I had, but I didn't.

Just another small miracle in this CNBC life that I'm living...

The Primer on Boundaries I Always Needed

I've mentioned the awesome counselor I got to see for a year and a half. I started seeing her right before I went through my first IVF cycle. In my first appointment, I told her I was going to be an extremely anxious pregnant woman or I was going to be completely devastated and at a loss for what to do with my life. Either way, I was going to need her.

I am so grateful for her. I learned so much. I think I've also mentioned before that I told her, "I came for the infertility support; I stayed for the boundary education." Because, whew, boundaries... I didn't have them.

I started feeling the need for boundaries (even though I didn't know that's what it was at the time) when I started seeing a fertility doctor. I didn't want everyone anyone knowing what I was going through. It was hard enough going through it; I couldn't talk about it or explain it to someone else at the same time.

So, for maybe the first time in my life at the age of 34, I stopped sharing. From what I've now learned, I went from having porous boundaries to having rigid boundaries. Overnight. No wonder my friends and family were confused.

So. Boundaries... Most simply put, they're important. Also, having them often includes engaging in behaviors that you may not initially associate with boundaries.

Which brings me to my book review/suggestion! I first mentioned it during my post about Jody Day's Reclaiming the Childless Holidays. She mentioned it there. I jotted down the title, looked at the table of contents on the yellow-themed shopping website that I don't use, and ordered it from thriftbooks dot com.

Oh yes, the book haha. It's called Set Boundaries, Find Peace by Nedra Glover Tawwab. And it is great! It's so informative and easy to read. I read it with a highlighter and found a gem for myself on every other page.

The book is divided into two parts: "Understanding the Importance of Boundaries" and "This is How You Do the Work of Setting Boundaries." It was part 2 that I was most in need of. A primer, a How To for establishing and maintaining boundaries, if you will. Finally! 

The whole book is good.
Here are some of my favorite bits from part 1:

• "The root of self-care is setting boundaries: it's saying no to something in order to say yes to your own emotional, physical, and mental well-being."
  
• "Healthy boundaries... are an indication of how you allow people to show up for you and how you show up for others."
  
• "If you experience depression, it can be helpful to set boundaries about how many things you expect yourself to do in a single day... Highlight the small wins."
  
  
  
• She describes six different types of boundaries, gives examples of violations, and offers ways to set and honor boundaries for each type. Those six areas of boundaries are physical, sexual, intellectual, emotional, material, and time.
  
  
  
• She spends an entire chapter explaining what boundary violations look like. This was really helpful for me! I needed specific examples to help me really understand what having boundaries looks like.
  
  
  
• "The healthiest way to communicate your boundaries is to be assertive... Communicate your feelings openly and without attacking others."
  
• "When making our expectations known, we worry about saying the right thing. The 'right thing' is a matter of stating what we need through assertiveness."
  
• "Someone else's opinion about your life isn't more valuable than your own."
  
  
  
• She provides a long list of boundaries to consider. I particularly resonated with these:
  --I protect my energy against people who threaten my sanity.
  --I allow myself to feel and not judge my feelings.
  --I create space for activities that bring me joy.
  
  
  
• And then, the most important point of all for me was this: "It's okay to create boundaries about what you share with others. For example, you don't have to share any of the following... what's next in your life, how you spend your time... your lifestyle... Remember, you have a choice about what conversations you are willing to have with others."
  
  

And that was just part 1! 

Part 2 covers boundaries with family, romantic relationships, friendships, work, and social media and technology. It was part 2 that I was most excited about because that's the part that gave me the specific information that I needed: signs I need boundaries, what boundaries look like, and what boundaries sound like. (Yes!! A script! Scripts can be so helpful, even if it's just a sentence.) 

Here are three important take aways from part 2:

• "Your boundaries are a reflection of how willing you are to advocate for the life that you want."
  
  
• "Self-discipline is the act of creating boundaries for yourself."
  
  
• "Your wellness hinges on your boundaries."

Such. Good. Stuff.

But that's not all!

There were three things in particular that I could relate to my experiences with infertility.

1. In a chapter about blurred boundaries (when we aren't clear with others about what we want or need), the author talks about instances of when people tell other people how to live their lives. Basically, she's not a fan of doing that. Lol. The author writes: According to Kate Kenfield, a sex and relationship educator, "My absolute favorite question anyone asks me when I'm struggling is, 'Do you want empathy or a strategy right now?'"
   
   Wow. How awesome is that. Do I need empathy or a strategy? Can you imagine if someone would have asked us that when we were deep in our grief?? How considerate.
   
   
2. In that same chapter, the author writes about accepting and letting go when a relationship ends. Since most of us have experienced the "friendship apocalypse" that often happens with infertility, I thought she had some good thoughts for us. She writes, "When a relationship ends, it's okay to grieve the loss (cry, be angry, feel sad)... process what you learned about yourself... [and] determine how you would like to show up in your present and future relationships." I thought those were some helpful steps for how to move forward when a friendship ends. Because that shit hurts!
   
   
3. Finally, in the chapter about identifying and communicating boundaries, the author gave me a good reminder. She is addressing the guilt that can come with setting boundaries, but, really, the message is applicable to all emotions. I can replace the word "guilt" with the words "profound sadness" and it still works. She writes, "Like all feelings, guilt will come and go... Embrace it as part of a complicated process--just one piece, not the entirety of the experience."
   
   

I needed this information. I needed this boundary education. I honestly needed this book my whole life. But, as it is with a lot of things, I probably came across it when I was ready to hear its messages. (Well, that and it was just published in 2021! Hahaha.)

5 stars, 2 thumbs up, 10/10 would recommend!!

It is done.

I originally posted this on 12/8/21 under a different title, but then I second guessed myself and unpublished it. But... It's all true, my last two weeks are over (Why does so much that sucks involve a two week wait??), and I now feel more comfortable re-posting this without any edits.

It is done.

*****

Repeating "it's not me" in my head really helped me last week. 

Unfortunately, things at work escalated. Accusations were made, lines were (majorly!) crossed, and I submitted my resignation. The whole thing completely sucks. I feel like crap and I'm out of a job. But what was I going to do? Stay there? Why? For what?

I just don't tolerate bullshit like I used to. I've had bad job after bad job after bad job. I've loved my students and I've loved my patients, but I've never been paid or treated well by an employer.

I know life isn't fair. Most likely, anyone who is reading a CNBC blog knows life isn't fair. 

But I reached my limit many years ago. It was exactly in the moment when I learned my last fertility treatment did not result in pregnancy. In that exact moment, although I had no idea doing what or where, I was determined to live a life that I thought was worth living.

And my most recent job wasn't it. Not by a long shot.

So I'm putting it out there in the Universe: I WILL find another job. But even better than that, I will find a good paying job at a place of employment that treats me well.

Infertility took so much away from me. I won't compromise with anything else in my life.

It's Not You

I don't know who needs to hear this, but here you go.

You are not the problem. It's not you.

If anyone judges you for your preference to stay home during a pandemic...
If there's someone who has a way of making you feel unsure, uneasy, or uncomfortable...
Even if your own mother tells you that "everyone has bad things happen to them" after you express your sadness about losing your children, your marriage, and life as you knew it...

It's. Not. You.

Even if everyone at once is opening their traps and forcing their bad opinions on you and you can't help but let some of that noise and bad energy seep in, even then, it's still not you.

Ok, it's me. 

It's me who needs to hear this.

I've been needing to hear this all damn day. So I told myself. And shared it with you.

💜

Beware of Vampires

I'm not sure what made me think to write this post just now, but it's a good warning nonetheless.

Guard your energy. Be aware of vampires. Your grief is yours, your journey is yours, and your recovery is yours. No one is entitled to the wisdom or rewards of your hard work.

When I started my new job last fall (the one that I quit this past winter), I was so excited to meet my new co-worker. Unfortunately, my excitement did not last long.

It's okay to be unresolved. It's part of the process when you're coming to terms with not having kids. But it's not okay for other people to thrust their unprocessed feelings onto us while simultaneously expecting answers. We are not their therapists. They are not paying us a co-pay. Their healing is not our responsibility.

Be mindful of when people latch on to a new friendship too quickly. This was a very common experience for me in my teens and twenties, and I suppose it's more developmentally appropriate at those ages. But in our forties? No thank you! Close, stable, and healthy friendships take time to develop and grow.

This new co-worker of mine asked me very personal questions right off the bat. At first, I thought I was helping her. I would answer them. Then she would argue against my answers. And I wouldn't feel good. That's when I knew the situation wasn't healthy. 

I felt judged by her for not adopting. She actually questioned me why I didn't foster children. I was going home and venting to my boyfriend almost every day after work. I realized I needed to save my energy and protect myself. I stopped sharing any personal information with her. 

Perhaps the reason I am writing about this today is that I realize I haven't heard from her since I quit my job. I haven't felt judged or questioned about my life without children for four months now. 

With some time and space away from her, I realize now that she was judging and questioning herself, not me. But it still didn't make me feel good. I didn't do all of my own work and come this far just to be treated like that, by someone I had just met no less!

Sometimes we can be helpful to others who are living through their worst nightmare, but it shouldn't come at the cost of our energy or our hard-earned contentment. We are not responsible for other people's happiness.