10th Blogoversary

I can't believe I have a blog. An anonymous blog where I've written my most personal, most embarrassing feelings. I can't believe I've been sharing honestly in this space for ten whole years. TEN years.

When I started this blog, it had been a year and a half since my last IVF didn't result in pregnancy. I had started a new school program and I absolutely hated it. I thought I had been through so much already. And I had. But I had no idea about what all was still coming.

A couple of years later I graduated and moved out of state like I had planned. My husband did not come like we had planned for the last three years. (I will never understand that.) We got divorced. That wasn't planned. I moved out of the city and into the mountains. I worked full-time as a special education teacher Monday - Friday and part-time at the hospital 45 minutes away on the weekends. That was tough! Then the pandemic came and shut everything down. That was even tougher. Those early months were so uncertain, destabilizing, and terrifying.

I moved again. Got more jobs, quit more jobs, and bought a house and moved again. 

I went back to school. Again.

I moved to another state. Again.

I started another new job. Again.

I bought a house and moved. Again.

Blahhh. So much privilege, so much stress. I'm so exhausted. Are you exhausted?

And that's just the microcosm. I don't even address the macrocosm much on this blog.

We are all exhausted.

I thought I was going to have kids. I thought groceries were going to stay somewhat affordable. 

I thought a lot of things about the future.

And here we are. 

It's good, it's bad, it's ugly. 

I enjoy the good, acknowledge the bad, and do my best to minimize the influence of ugly in my life. I go to work, pay my bills, connect with others, and do my part to make the world a better place. I don't know what else I can do. 

I didn't know what to do when I realized I wasn't going to be a mother in this lifetime, but I figured it out over time. I rediscovered enthusiasm. I explored new avenues to happiness. I found a new hobby. I cultivated contentment and became best friends with myself. 

Ten years of blogging. 

I couldn't have done it without you.

You can purchase that cake topper here where I found the picture.

P.S. I have a lot of favorite posts, but I'd like to highlight this one on this 10th Blogoversary post.
It's about when I started quilting and it had nothing to do with infertility or being childless not by choice. It's from 7.5 years ago, and it's called Living My Life.

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

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.)

 

 

 

 

My 11th Survivor Anniversary

I can barely believe it's been over 11 years since my last fertility treatment didn't result in pregnancy. In one way, it almost feels like it never happened. I'm no longer trying to get pregnant or adopt anymore. I don't live in that house anymore. I'm not married to my husband anymore. It's not even "Who am I?" anymore either. 

Everything has changed. Where I live, who I'm with, what I do, and, oh, WHO I AM.

Yet, my 11th Survivor Anniversary came and went without much fanfare this year. 

Oh wait, that's not entirely true. I had finished the draft of my research article the weekend or two before, so I decided to submit my research ON my Survivor Anniversary. It felt great. It was not anticlimactic at all. It was a huge relief to submit it. I felt so damn proud.

And then the next day I received the rejection. (Really?? The journal editor didn't even sit on it for 24 hours?) And, guess what, I barely even cared. Of course I was disappointed. But the rejection email I received was so tone deaf, so freakin' RUDE that it actually made it easier to process the rejection. I read the email, rolled my eyes, and moved on.

I am not the same.

Infertility, failed treatments, and not getting to be the mom I always wanted to be changed me.

That's just the first academic journal I submitted my research to. Oh, it's on now. I will continue to submit my research until it's published. That first journal I tried? Their loss. Big time. 

On my 11th Survivor Anniversary all I could do was laugh at my nerdy self for living through my worst nightmare and then conducting RESEARCH about it. Hahaha. Nerd!

Have you seen Pretty Woman? This shopping scene is what I immediately thought of
when I read that rejection email. I found this pic on an old tumblr post.

2,000 Miles

I have moved! I moved almost 1,000 miles, and it has been a marathon. I didn't want to write about it until it was over (and I'm still surrounded by boxes--I haven't unpacked a single one yet), but the actual arduous physical move is done. 

It's been extremely difficult. All of it.

From the realization three months ago that I had to move to every single step along the way, I just kept pushing forward. I rewrote my resume. I applied for jobs. I went to interviews. I compared offers and costs of living in various places. I accepted a position. My boyfriend and I found a place to rent. We packed up all of our stuff. We rented a truck. We loaded the truck. We drove halfway across the country. We unloaded the truck. And I started a new job.

I'm sure you can guess what I'm going to write next: I am exhausted.

But it is done and I am proud. I saved myself once again. I saw what wasn't working. I saw the direction things were headed, and I made major changes.

Did I want to do all of that work? Not at all. Not any of it. But I did it anyway.

And now I am here. In a new place with a new job.

I love it. I love my rental and I love my new position.

If you've been with me since the beginning of this blog, you have traveled over 2,000 miles with me. From one big city to another. From several small towns to back to a city. You've been with me through six different addresses in three different states. Did I mention I am tired? It's definitely been a theme of this blog.

Fourteen years ago I thought I was settled. I was married and living in a beautiful house we bought for our children. When I couldn't have children, I thought we'd move to another city and settle there. A couple of more places later, I thought I'd settle there. 

Well, and now I am here. Maybe here is where I will settle. Who knows. But there are jobs. And there is some affordable housing. At the very least, we can afford our rental. 

I continue to deal with reality. I dealt with not being able to have kids. I dealt with grieving life as I knew it and life as I thought it would be. I dealt with divorce, moving, bad jobs, and a pandemic. And now I am dealing with our current cultural climate and its ramifications.

Moving was so, so, so extremely hard, but I did it.

It was worth it.

I took this picture (safely I promise!) of my boyfriend driving the moving truck while I followed in my car with two cats. It was a wild ride that took two days, but we made it safe and sound.

Our country is so beautiful.

Dealing with Reality

My views are back to normal. They have been for 30+ days now. Instead of thousands of views, a post may get a hundred. Not only is it an interesting observation, I think it's important to report.

In related news, my personal world is upside down. Things are good with my relationship with myself and with my relationship with my boyfriend. I know I can get through anything on my own. Infertility and failed fertility treatments taught me that. With my partner by my side, I can get through anything with laughter, support, and understanding. I prefer the team approach to life.
As long as you have the right team member that is...

But back to my upside down world: I can't find a full-time job where I am that pays a living wage. I'm about to lose my affordable health insurance. I hope that's not controversial to say because it is an objective fact. I cannot afford the expected increase on my monthly premium. At all. But I also don't want to post anything that catches any bots' attention. I even deleted several posts from my blog to increase my chances of staying under the radar. I don't believe I'm overreacting.
I truly believe I am being proactive.

So what does one do when all of your jobs have been in schools, hospitals, nursing homes, and food banks when you live in a country where the people in charge are dismantling the Department of Education, making healthcare unaffordable, and denying assistance for those who are food insecure. Some people think I'm crazy for worrying. I'm just being realistic.

If you are living involuntarily childless you know what it's like to have a plan that doesn't work out. You know what it's like to live a life that looks completely different from the one you envisioned and planned for. Like I say, there is the life we wanted and then there is dealing with reality.

So I am dealing with reality.

Actually, I had an entirely different post in my head that I thought I was going to write. Let me digress and touch on those thoughts for a minute...

I am really starting to hate IVF. I cried with a friend the other morning. Her daughter's round of IVF did not result in pregnancy. She is heartbroken for her daughter. Secondarily, I think she is also heartbroken for herself. I pointed out that she is allowed to grieve too, that she always thought she would be a grandmother. I think my friend was so concerned for her daughter that she hadn't even thought about herself. Hopefully, she had the space and permission in the moment to feel her own feelings too. 

I like IVF when it works, but, as we know, it doesn't work much more often than it does. When it works, it can be great. When it doesn't, it can be devastating. I hate it.

And that brings me back to dealing with reality. 

I thought I was settled where I am. I thought I would never move again. Hahaha. Plans. Yeah...

Don't worry about me. I have a new plan! And I am very excited about it! I'm just in the middle of executing it and my little world is currently upside down. I will let you know when I've made it to the other side. 

There is always the other side. Unless we stay stuck. But staying stuck isn't dealing with reality. It's just staying stuck. I don't fault anyone for staying stuck for a little bit, but I always want to encourage people to take that first step when they have the energetic reserves to do so. If you need help with that first step, including even knowing what that first step is, send me an email. We can figure it out together. I will cheer you on. We are stronger together.

 

I found this image on the website of this organization. I don't know anything about them, but I love this image. Also, my email is my blog name infertilephoenix at gmail if you need it.

Surviving

What can I write on this last day of August? 

Well, I survived another summer. I appreciate all four seasons, but summer is my least favorite.
I really hate the heat.

But that's what we do, isn't it? Survive. And everything we've learned through our devastating experiences can serve us well as we navigate the uncertainty of today's world.

As infertility survivors, we know life doesn't go as planned. We know there are no guarantees even after a full life of working hard and being nice.

So what do we do? 

I highly recommend feeling your feelings. Don't deny them. Don't shove them down. Don't try to eat, drink, smoke, or spend your feelings away into nonexistence. It never works. You have to acknowledge them. You have to feel them. If not, I truly believe they get stuck and make you feel worse. So feel mad, sad, confused, frustrated, distraught, exhausted... Your feelings aren't your fault, but they are your responsibility to manage.

Just like with infertility, nobody can do it for us.

And just like with infertility, we can practice looking for the little things. The little moments of joy that we find in a good meal or a quiet moment. Appreciating the little things is not a solution to the world's problems, but it can be a personal salve. You deserve to feel good. But sometimes we have to dig really deep to find it. 

If you can't find a glimmer of joy in the moment, that's okay too. It's not your fault! That's how it is sometimes. I encourage you to dig in your heels so that you don't slide down deeper into the hole. Get out your mental pickaxe and thrust it into the wall you're clinging to. 

Hold on for better times.

💜

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?

Unexpected Moment of Grief

I feel compelled to state the obvious: it's the last day of January 2024. Is it just me or did that month seem to go by pretty fast? I wasn't even having that great of a time and it still flew by. February tomorrow. Huh. How about that.

I've written so much about how far I've come from my devastation of not being able to raise children. I like to share what changes I've made and what makes me happy. I like to share that I like my life. But I also like to be real. And the truth is that I still grieve. Something will trigger my pain and then I feel the losses that come throughout life when you're involuntarily childless.

Someone showed me a picture the other day. It was someone I know very well that showed it to me. I thought they'd know better. The picture was of a baby of someone else I know very well that is now grown up. I'd never seen a picture of them as a baby. I burst into tears. 

Whoa. Didn't see that coming... 

But, I know I'm low on emotional resources these days. Plus, I'm in my season of grief, that time of year where I was undergoing IVF nine years ago. The body remembers. I give myself grace. 

You know what I did. I felt my sadness, and I let myself cry without judgment. Then the moment really did pass. It took an hour or two, but that was it. Things like that no longer incapacitate me.

But I want to acknowledge that the moments of grief still happen.

And time marches on.

Give Yourself Time and Grace

Thanksgiving has always been a time where I can gauge my anxiety level. 

Many, many years ago I remember calling my best friend from the grocery store parking lot and telling her I was too anxious to go grocery shopping. She could not relate, but she assured me that it was fine and I was capable. She encouraged me to go inside, get what was on my list, and be done. And I did. And it was fine. But I felt really silly and slightly embarrassed that I was so anxious. And that happened way before my years of infertility.

Infertility shot my anxiety straight up. Higher than ever. Like, I was overachieving with how much anxiety one person could feel. I'm sure a lot of you understand.

And then I couldn't come down. Even after I quit trying to conceive. Even after I came up with the idea to go back to school and eventually move. I could not calm my nerves. And the smallest, slightest thing could make me feel so terrible.

Do you deal with anxiety? It's a very uncomfortable feeling. It's mental thing, a physical thing, and an emotional thing. Anxiety sucks. I wish I knew that's what I was dealing with back in high school. I had no idea. I just felt crazy sometimes.

One of the reasons why I moved to the town where I ultimately settled is because the first time I drove through it I felt at peace. The feeling reminded me of how I felt when I was a little kid living in a small town. Content, not crazy. 

I'm a city kid (because I lived in a large city for 25 years), but I think I'm really a country mouse.

I've been here 3 years now. Each year my entire body calms down a notch.

I went to the store last week to buy a turkey and a ham. I wasn't stressed at all. I admit that I took a couple of deep breaths before going into the store, but that was really only to recognize how far I've come. 

Infertility sucked and my recovery has taken a decade.

Tired & Grateful

Pure exhaustion. That's what I'm feeling. As many times as I have written here about how tired I am, I have reached a new level of fatigue.

Enduring infertility completely wipes you out. It robs you of everything.

And then if you want to change your life after infertility, you have to do it while you are initially in an energy deficit. The good news is that the changes you make can lead to renewed energy. But that takes time. It doesn't happen overnight.

So. Please allow me to repeat my list. Infertility, failed treatments, going back to school, moving out of state, getting divorced, finishing school, moving to a new town, starting a new job, starting another new job, pandemic hits, moving to another new town, starting another new job, quitting that job due to lack of pandemic precautions, navigating unemployment, starting another new job, buying a house and moving again (last move!), quitting that hostile job, giving myself a sabbatical, going back to school again, moving out of my storage unit, getting two new jobs, conducting CNBC research, and graduating again.

Yep.
I'm tired.
Changing your entire life is exhausting.

And absolutely worth it.

And today is Sunday, my only day off in a 10-day work period with a 2-hour roundtrip commute. I am spending the day reading in bed. And blogging. And more reading. And eating snacks. The awesome thing is this is the first day I'm off work AND out of school, which means I do not have any homework to do!!!

There's so much to be thankful for. My home, my jobs, my education, my health. Ski season is less than 100 days away, and that is what I live for. (You'd think with the way that I talk that I am some expert skier. I am not, hahaha. I just love to ski. I'm a solid intermediate skier.) 

Also, that quilting sew along starts next month, and I am pretty excited about that too. The two guys that organized it have created a whole online community so we can post our thoughts, questions, and pictures; watch tutorials; be a part of product giveaways; and just all around connect with people around the world who are sewing this Alice in Wonderland quilt top for the next nine months. Although the quilt kits are sold out, you can still buy your own fabric and register for the online quilt community if this sounds like something you want to do. 

I'm thinking about what jobs I want to apply for now that I am graduated. I love my current jobs but they are only PRN, which means they call me when they need me. It's covering the bills for now (both places have needed me more than they anticipated), but I kind of want more steady employment. Or maybe I will wait until 2024. My boyfriend is telling me to just take some time to rest before jumping into the next thing. I think I should take his advice.

So that's where I am. Pausing in the middle of the road of my life after a very, very long and arduous 12-year period. I feel so dang 1) proud of myself and 2) grateful for you. I know I would not be where I am today without this blog and my readers. Thank you.

💜

I'll leave you (for now, but not for long!) with a story from work this week.

I walked into a patient's room a couple of days ago. She was there while recovering from surgery. She was an older woman with a diagnosis of dementia. Once I met her, I realized how progressed her dementia was. She was very sweet but not able to communicate much verbally. For example, I tried to keep my language simple, but she answered every question with "yes." 

I noticed her patient chart did not mention anything about children. I was thinking about her need for care as her dementia continued to progress and asked if she had any kids. That was the first time she said "no." I told her, "I don't either." And just like with previous patients I have told you about, she immediately made eye contact with me with a knowing look in her eyes. 

I continued, "And I can't have them, so I won't be having any." And she looked at me and said her first complete sentence. She said, "And that's how that will be." I agreed and said, "Yes. That's how that will be." And we just looked at each other and smiled. It was a really powerful moment. I felt like, amidst her dementia-related confusion, she got to experience a moment of clarity right then. I felt like we really connected. 

It was an incredible moment that only women like us can understand.

Wrapping Up School

My 16-month marathon is coming to a close. I am so tired, so grateful, so excited, and so humbled. I still have so much to learn. But, the last 16 months have been one of the greatest investments of my time, energy, and money. 

Not only did I expand my skill set so now I know how to treat older and elderly adults in addition to children, but I got to conduct my own qualitative pilot study to explore the lived experience of involuntary childlessness after infertility! I am so grateful. Conducting actual research is a dream come true. Conducting research to represent our population in the academic literature is an honor that I took very seriously.

I am extremely grateful to the study participants that volunteered to be interviewed. I appreciate their willingness to talk about the worst experience of their life with me. I appreciate the trust they put in me, and I was very thoughtful throughout every step of the process: designing the study and collecting, managing, and analyzing the data.

I present my initial findings to my classmates and professors on Tuesday!

I conducted 15 interviews with women from 8 different countries. I analyzed the first 6 interview transcripts for my final project and will analyze the other 9 interviews throughout the rest of 2023. Then I will draft an article for publication in the winter of 2024. Afterward, I plan to present my findings at several conferences throughout the country. 

I am excited, and I could not have done this without you and your support. We are a growing population, we will be represented, and our collective voices will be heard!

Thank you.

💜

Energy Changes

I've been hard at work, both at my jobs and with school. I have less than a month until graduation, and every minute counts at this point.

And I have done nothing today. I slept in, ate pizza, watched a movie, and ordered some fabric.

Maybe that's what I needed to do. I definitely feel like my brain is slowing down. I know my brain and body are tired. It's the last mile or two of this marathon.

I am amazed I have been able to do this school program. I am giddy that I get to conduct actual research. I am in awe at what is possible after such profound, life-altering loss. 

We don't have to save the world. We do not have that responsibility. But we can all find things that we are interested in and put our time and energy into stuff. 

...When we have the energy.

Because at first you don't.

Not for a long time.

Grieving is EXHAUSTING.

I will never forget that massively heavy feeling.
I will never miss feeling so adrift and pointless.
I will never take energy or inspiration for granted.

So I may be tired today. I may be stressed about the upcoming week and all of the work that my jobs and school will require. But I can do it. I have the energy to do it. 

And if I don't? I'll still be closer than I was before.

The Heaviness Has Lifted

I can tell it's not January, February, or March anymore. And it's not just because of the sun shining and the snow melting. I no longer feel an inexplicable heaviness. 

Life, in general, feels a little lighter.

I am interested in learning more about grief. How it feels, how we process it, how it reoccurs. I'd like to help people with it. Everyone deals with loss of some sort. After I graduate, I'll explore more therapeutic approaches to grief and loss. 

My plate is currently full. Pleasantly full. Full of things I chose.
My jobs, my studies, my sewing projects, my home.

I shared several months ago that my boyfriend and I were going through something. Honestly, I thought we were going to break up. We didn't. I'm glad. :)

We are both growing in our own ways--me as a communicator, him overcoming depression. It got me thinking so much about infertility and not having kids. I developed so much resilience and so many survival strategies after losing my children and dreams of motherhood. It makes it hard when I see others struggling and perceive that they're not doing anything about it.

Nobody can solve our problems for us. Nobody can instill us with enthusiasm or a will to live.

We have to save ourselves. No one else can.

The past year of our relationship was tough. There were plenty of fun moments. He is one of my best friends after all. But still... It was very tough. 

It got me thinking about how childlessness has a way of changing everything. I realized that what I need in a relationship has changed. Drastically. I realized I assumed things about him just because he had raised children. (Pronatalism is so insidious. It gets to all of us. And also, no, he is NOT organized or orderly lol, something I thought came automatically after raising kids.)

It's been interesting. Thinking about my choices and patterns in relationships throughout my life. Comparing different time periods and my different expectations for partners. Considering how traumatic teen parenthood can be (for him) and childlessness after infertility can be (for me). 

But even during the toughest days, my boyfriend and I always had trust and communication. And trust me, I've held NOTHING back hahaha. And neither has he. It's important that we both share our perspectives.

Anyway, just kind of a rambling post... 

I wanted to share my good news. My relationship limbo is over! I ended it this weekend. I decided to stay and we are moving forward together. None of that is directly related to infertility (except for the fact that somehow most everything relates to infertility for me AND the fact that he has witnessed a shit ton of my healing, which is priceless), but it got me thinking about all sorts of new angles on the topic. 

But after thinking and analyzing nonstop for the last several months, I am giving myself a break. You all know I am good at that. ;) Breaks are important. Breaks are essential.

So today I am working on schoolwork while snuggled under my latest quilt. I like myself, my relationship feels fun and stable, and I'm happy at home. 

I hope you are feeling some lighter moments these days too.

Applying a Lesson Learned from Infertility

It's no secret that I've been stressed out and struggling for the past several weeks (a month? two months?). That's life. Stress happens. I don't say that dismissively to myself. My stress is real. It's also not unique. Everyone has stress. I'll go out on a limb and say most everyone currently has stress in their lives. Times aren't easy.

But I was getting sick and tired of feeling how I was feeling. I couldn't change any of it, so what could I do? Some options I thought of were to practice acceptance (suggesting this almost always annoys me but I still believe it's a beneficial coping strategy) and to change my perspective. I've been trying both strategies. 

I decided to rely on what I did toward the end of my experience with infertility. Instead of constantly thinking about what I didn't have, I decided to think about what I did have. I even wrote a list. It was long. I was pleasantly surprised. That was helpful.

Our poor primitive brains have not evolved from hanging on tightly to negative information. Yes, this was helpful when we needed to avoid getting eaten by a wooly mammoth. (Just kidding. Wooly mammoths were herbivores, but you get my point.) But, hanging on to negative information is not such a great thing when we live in a 24/7 news cycle of bad news. 

The brain can only handle so much.
The heart can only handle so much.

We have to be kind to ourselves, especially when society isn't.

No matter what we're missing and no matter how sad/lonely/bored/broke/frustrated we are, we have so much. That's not to take away from our very real negative feelings. It's to remind us of what we do have.

We have ourselves. We have each other. We have today.
And when today sucks, we have tomorrow. Every day is different.

Just a reminder. Because it's easy to forget.

Stress, Celebrations, & Choice

I'm in a tough spot. I've got a lot of thoughts in my head, but I haven't quite sorted them out yet. I don't know what to do and I can't write about what I don't understand. Needless to say, I am stressed and the weight of the stress and the unknown is weighing on me. 

This too shall pass.

I took a sabbatical this past winter to heal. My nerves were frayed, my confidence was shot, and I knew I needed to take some time for some serious mental rest. I used savings to pay my bills.

So wouldn't you know it... Now I'm having a home repair emergency. I need some major plumbing work done and I'm waiting on the estimate to see if what's left of my savings will cover the cost.

Logically, I can tell myself that everything will be okay. The repair is not a choice. It has to happen. So that leaves me spending my savings or shopping for loans. Both are doable. The other upsides to the situation are the problem was found, the problem is fixable, and the repair people have availability in their schedule to get it done next month. Lots to be thankful for. I just have to live with this constant level of stress until it's over.

It got me thinking... Is life ever NOT stressful? It's just felt so nonstop for the last decade.

And money and plumbing issues aren't even the whole picture. My relationship is a big part of the unknown as well. Changes need to be made, but those changes aren't in my control. 

And just like with infertility, I don't like my options. Stay with how things are? Nope. Break up? Not interested. A third option I've thought of is to change my perspective, but I haven't figured out how to do that yet. Probably because the changes that need to happen just really need to happen. Even if I change my perspective, I am still in an unsustainable situation. I guess we will see what this week brings. Or not.

Oh, hello again limbo! 

Because that's what it is. Limbo.
Waiting. Wondering what to do. Feeling uncomfortable and hating my options.

*****

So with all that vaguely said... Let's celebrate the positive.

I moved out of my storage unit!!! I repeat, I moved out of my storage unit!!! In other words, for the first time in over six years, I do NOT have a storage unit. Mission freaking accomplished.

(The rainbow picture above was taken after we loaded up our last load and drove out of the city.)

Instead, I am surrounded by boxes. Again. 
Life can be so repetitive, lol.

So I'm out! It took three days, a rental truck, and two additional car loads, with each roundtrip costing at least eight hours in gas and time. But, I'm out!! That will save money every month, and now I can finally go through my stuff I've saved. I saved it all because I didn't know where I'd end up. Well, it's here apparently. I will get the plumbing fixed and then live the rest of my life here. So what doesn't fit in my home can be passed along to others. Or thrown away.

But I'm really thankful I get the choice about which stuff I keep, donate, and throw away.

Choice. What a powerful thing...

That's it! That's my empty unit.
Yes, it was so momentous of an occasion that I had to take a picture.

*****

So, my break from school has been just that: a break from school. But it hasn't been a break. I've been moving, hosting family, and dealing with major plumbing issues. But hey, at least I had a break from assignments.

School starts again tomorrow. 

So despite my current stressors, sadness, and confusion, I'm relieved to be out of my storage unit. Also, I've been determined to relax this weekend. Can one be determined to relax? That seems contradictory... But, it's where I am at this point. Stressed but determined to relax.

My insides have been racing with anxiety, so I'm doing what helps me feel better. I'm sewing. I don't remember what I did before I started sewing in April 2019. I think I just lived with anxiety.

I picked out fabric on Friday and started a new quilt top. This quilt is for me. It will be all flannel for the top and the backing, and the batting in the middle will be wool. I made a similar quilt for my boyfriend last year, and it's the warmest quilt we have. So I'm making one for myself before winter comes. It's a simple pattern just made up of squares, but I'm already halfway done with the top.

It's not the greatest picture, but you can see the fabric that I'm using: scribble stars, polar bears, skiers, and textured solid blenders (brown, purple, green, and blue). 

Thankfully, when I choose to sew, it does make me feel better. It must be the repetitive motions, the purr of the sewing machine, and the soft feeling of fabric. It is all very comforting for me. I turn on the tv, watch 20th century movies and tv shows, and feel at ease. 

So, it's only appropriate that my mom brought me this sign when she came to visit:

How do people with kids afford life? It's just me and I am pretty stressed to the max right now. 

But I know how they do it. They just do it. They have to. Their kids depend on them. Just like I'll get my plumbing fixed. I have to. Functioning in my life depends on indoor plumbing at my home. 

We just do it. Stress, celebrations, and all. 

You Don't Have To Know

I saw the image below and immediately saved it to post here. I love it. I love the artist's everything. I signed up for her emails and look forward to receiving them. Here is her website. She has so many helpful images and worksheets.

It's true though. You don't have to have everything figured out. That's too much pressure!

Maybe you think I have everything figured out. I don't!! I post here AFTER I (sorta) figure (some) things out. Like I've written before, I just keep moving away from what I don't want and inevitably move toward things that I do want.

Klara and her blog has been one of my biggest inspirations. Eight years ago I was sitting for days on end drinking in my recliner, coffee all morning before I switched to beer. (I don't think I've honestly shared here before, but I was drinking too much back then.) I hadn't started fertility treatments yet. (I did cut back on my drinking during treatments.) But I figured I would try them. I also figured they wouldn't work. I never had confidence in treatments working for me; I was right. 

But back to Klara! I would read her blog, see her pictures of her beautiful walks in the woods with her dog, and think: That's what I want. 

Then I would look around at the empty house I bought for my children in the suburbs which I honestly hated in a city that was too big, too noisy, and too ugly for me and think: 

What the hell am I doing??

It took me two more years to change my environment. It took me almost three years after that to move to where I wanted to be (sorta, I was still in a city but in a different state at least). It took me that whole time to realize how lonely I was in my marriage and how my spirit was disappearing before my eyes. (This reduction in spirit was in addition to the trauma of infertility. I was lost in so many ways. Layers upon layers of being lost.)

So, yes, now I write about my happy home. My beautiful spot in this world. My new career that I love. My self-confidence. My joy that I feel. 

But I had no idea what I was doing on my way to get to this spot. I didn't have anything figured out as I put one foot in front of the other. I cried basically the whole way here. I still cry often. 

I don't have everything figured out. 

It's important to me to share that. You may be sitting there, reading my blog, and think, "Well, it's easy for Phoenix to say. She has it all figured out." Nope. No, I don't. Not one bit. 

And that's okay.

I find a lot of comfort in the fact that I am not in charge. That would be too much responsibility.

But if you like what I write, if you desire to like your own life, take what resonates with you and use it as fuel. Move away from what you don't like. Wander around. Try different things. 

You don't have to know what you're doing or where you'll end up. 

One thing is for sure: you won't end up where you are. And if where you are sucks (mentally, emotionally, geographically, whatever), why stay? You don't have to. 

Explore what you enjoy. Even if that sounds impossible, it's not. 

You and your life are worth it.

The view from my recliner now. 💜

Capable of Doing

I'm going through something. I kind of know what it is and I kind of don't. I'm in the "feeling my feelings" part of it. I know I'm not happy about some parts of my life, and I know I'm thrilled about others. I don't really know where I'm going with this... I just wanted to acknowledge it.

So, the news lately. Pretty devastating. Traumatizing. Paralyzing. Frustrating. Angering. Scary.

Have you read anything positive lately? I read about a woman who took her adult brother with intellectual disabilities to his first movie. She wasn't sure if he would like the movie theatre or need to walk around or what, so she scheduled a private screening. How thoughtful is that? Good news: he loved it! I loved reading that short story.

What else... I'm getting along with my mom. I'm getting along with both of my sisters. I'll never take that for granted. I love my family so much, and I know they love me. 

I've decided I don't like spring. Ha! Hahahaha. I mean, it's spring. Who doesn't like spring?? Me, apparently. I love winter. I love snow and quilting on a cold day and sitting around Xmas tree lights and skiing. And spring is the furthest away I am from winter. But really, it's the allergies... Everything is blooming. Everything is just so dang fertile! I can't stop sneezing, my throat is scratchy, and I live with a headache. And in today's times, I'm paranoid that it's covid. Fun stuff.

I've been going out to eat. I couldn't stand it anymore. I went 25 months living like a hermit and it was really affecting my mental health. Even a homebody can only take so much. So I go when it's not busy. I also live in the middle of nowhere. It's not densely populated and that makes me feel better too. I notice I've been tipping more. I'm just so thankful I don't have to cook or do dishes, and everything is so freaking expensive nowadays. So it's part of how I'm giving back to others. As long as the service doesn't completely suck, I'm tipping 25%. Not bragging or trying to be a hero, just trying to help others where I can. 

This post isn't really saying much. But that's okay. I made it. I am where I am. I climbed out of the pit that was despair and depression and chose to put one foot in front of the other. Most days. Some days I just stayed in bed. It's all a part of the process. But for several years there, I quite honestly didn't want to be alive. I wanted to get hit by a truck. Except I didn't. Because that would be really awful for the truck driver. So I came up with a life I could live with. And now I am living it. It's a good one and I am thankful.

Still, I'm going through some major changes. My career, my relationship... These are no small things. I don't know what the other side will look like, but we never do. 

I have big news. I'm back in school! It's such an opportunity and I am extremely grateful. Still, it's hard. But like my mom said, getting your doctorate is supposed to be hard. Ha! She's right. 

I'm throwing myself into this program. I'm studying like I've never studied before. I'm actually doing all of the readings. And taking notes on them. It's like, for the first time in my life, I want to know alllllll the things. I'm doing my assignments with the intention of learning the content, not to just meet my due dates. It's pretty awesome. And hard. But I already mentioned that.

It's only my first semester, but I'm already dipping my toes into research. I'm researching the scientific literature and writing about infertility and living CNBC for my first project. I can't call it research officially because I'm not going through the institutional review board approval process, but, if it all goes well and feels right, I may turn this project into Real Research. 

I will need a couple of you this month or next to interview. Your name and identifying information will remain confidential. Send me an email if you're interested (infertilephoenix at g mail). My project is about the experience of permanent involuntary childlessness after IVF failure.

That's all for all now, friends. My thoughts are scattered and my emotions are at the surface. I feel like big changes are on the horizon. But that's life; nothing stays the same. While enduring this latest period of transition, I will be reading my textbooks. And sewing a little bit. While watching tv at night, I'm working on an applique project for my next quilt top.

I love you all. Take good care of yourselves.

 

A Fresh Restart

Hello from the other side of March! Not gonna lie, that month was tough for me this year. 

I have felt so much better when waking up these last several days. My boyfriend thinks it's directly related to the seasons/weather/sunshine, but I am not so convinced... I really think it's related to trauma. But, as it is with a lot of things, it's probably a little bit of both. I also think there's something to the fact that it was finally a safe time for me to feel so miserable. 

Damn. 

Last month had some dark moments.
They were exhausting. It sucked. And now it's in the past.

There were a couple of times where I wondered if I needed to bring in some more support. I am not afraid to ask for help, but I'm not always aware of when I reach that point. I informally assessed my life but determined I was still functioning. So I just continued to feel and process.

And now I am here... Just simply feeling better. Maybe it's the weather; maybe it was the passing of time. Maybe it's just the ebb and flow of life.

Hard times happen.
Pause, acknowledge, and keep going.

I stepped outside my front door and look! Something is growing! Someone has previously planted something here! I'm excited to see what it is (as long as the animals don't eat it first).

Also, I have to admit, I am really looking forward to seeing everyone's gardening pictures. I know there are several bloggers who are good at keeping plants alive and spring will soon be sprung. 

I hope this food picture doesn't look gross. 

(Sometime I think food pictures look really gross. Although, now that I think about it, maybe that's just pictures of babies eating with food smeared all over their faces... Anyway!) 

So, yes, here's a food picture. It's kind of a comfort food of mine and I don't remember the last time I made it. But, I was really craving some vegetables, so I made this and it felt really good to take care of myself.

If you'd like to make some, it's roasted vegetables (carrot, onion, and celery with olive oil, garlic, salt, and pepper) mixed with quinoa and feta cheese (sometimes I use crumbled goat cheese).

Here's my latest quilt! It's for my dad; he's a huge baseball fan. 

I call myself a sloppy quilter because all of my quilts are full of mistakes. But that's one of the many reasons why I love quilting. You can make mistakes and it's still a quilt! So, as someone who identifies as a sloppy quilter, I am very proud of this binding corner. I think it's the best one I've sewed so far.