Happy Other's Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are worthy. 

 

(M)Other's Day Next Month

I just learned about this awesome sounding event in Chicago next month. It's called The Other's Day Brunch. I can't go this year, but I'd honestly/seriously like to go next year. Make a trip out of it. My boyfriend likes Chicago. I've been a couple of times. Do some shopping (maybe) and eat some good food (definitely). See some sites. And go to this brunch! Why not? One of my favorite strategies in life is to have things to look forward to.

I can't go to the Other's Day Brunch this year. I already have Mother's Day plans. Sigh... 

For years, Mother's Day was on the forefront of my radar screen and I made sure to stay home that day. I didn't want to go out to eat or even run errands. I could not handle anyone wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. I just stayed home and ordered pizza instead.

Over time, Mother's Day dropped off my radar screen. Some years I forgot about it completely. And now I just don't care. I don't feel bad or sad or bitter. I just don't care.

But we'll see how I feel this year... 

Because this year I will be on vacation with my parents and sisters. One of my sisters lives in a tourist town, so it's a great place for us to meet to visit. My mother is very excited about going out for a Mother's Day lunch. She is calling the whole trip her Mother's Day Weekend trip, which, sure, I guess it is. She's a mom and she'll get to spend Mother's Day weekend with her three adult daughters. That is something to celebrate, and I am not being sarcastic.

So I actually have Mother's Day plans this year, but I really want to go to brunch in Chicago next year! This year should be fine though. I think I'm going in with the right attitude. I will be there to celebrate my family's health and our ability to get together. I don't expect anyone to think twice about what the day might mean to me. If any strong feelings arise, I will tuck them safely away and feel them later when I'm by myself... Preferably on the beach. :)

Picture found here https://www.franklinarts.com/blog/entry/summer-beaches

My New Doctor

I changed health insurance providers this year, and of course my primary care physician (PCP) isn't covered by my new policy. I considered just paying out-of-pocket on the rare times I saw her because I liked her so much. Then I got a letter saying she's moving. 

So I didn't end up having a choice in the matter. I had to find a new general doctor. So last week I looked up who was covered by my insurance, made an appointment, and hoped for the best. 

I doubt many people look forward to going to the doctor. I know a lot of women who are childless not-by-choice hate going to the doctor. Especially a new one.

What's the waiting room going to look like? The decor? The magazines?

Plus, the paperwork. And the questions. Completing the medical history, figuring out the first day of my last menstrual period, just... Everything. It's a lot.

But I take a maintenance medication and need someone to prescribe it, so off I went.

And it was SO GOOD. I can't believe it.

It turns out the place that's covered by my insurance is within walking distance from my house. I've never walked to the doctor before. That makes it so easy! Then the place was fine. It was clean with bare decor and not a bunch of mother-child statues/paintings/charcoal drawings. There actually weren't any magazines so no Parents magazine or Women's Day (which is really geared for mothers, not women in general). The office staff was nice and friendly, and so was the nurse that did my intake stuff. She didn't say anything thoughtless as I shared my extensive non-reproductive history.

And then the doctor came in.

Are you sitting down? You should be sitting down.

She looks at all of my forms while I explain that I'm there to establish care because my current PCP is moving. I was fully prepared to educate her about involuntary childlessness, if needed, when she referenced Mother's Day, looked at me, and simply said, "I spent too much time on Facebook on Sunday and had to put my phone down."

Pause... Pause...

"Wait..." I asked her, "Do you have kids?"

And she said no.

I immediately asked her if she wanted to be my doctor forever. She laughed.

I said, "Seriously! Whether your situation is by choice or by circumstance, there is already so much you understand. So much I don't have to explain."

She smiled at me. She gets it. I can tell.

My new doctor doesn't have kids. 

Yesterday

Yesterday was Mother's Day, a day that used to hurt me but now I really couldn't care less. Like, I just don't care at all anymore. And I used to cry all day long. For years.

I can't believe how much can change. I really can't. Except I'm living it.

Take last year for example. After quarantining for over two years, my boyfriend and I started going out to eat at restaurants. On the second time we went out, it was Mother's Day. Neither one of us even realized it. Ha! I mean, who goes out to eat on Mother's Day and doesn't realize it?? (It was easy. It was later in the day and the place wasn't packed. Then we were seated next to a large table full of men. There were zero Mother's Day vibes going on hahaha.)

And this year? Pretty much the same. My boyfriend and I stopped at a place by our house for a beer and a burger. The sun was shining and it was nice. I ended up running into a former co-worker, and she said something great. She's single, no kids, in her early thirties, and works in pediatrics. She told me, "I woke up this morning and before I even got out of bed, I put my hand on my heart and wished myself a Happy Mother's Day for all the mothering that I do."

Isn't that a loving thought to have about oneself? I've always felt very maternal, so I loved it. :)

Mothering Myself

Oh, what a day! I slept horribly, woke up early, and tried to break through my groggy fog with coffee. But then it got good. I attended Sarah's online yoga class and it was incredible. It was so seemingly simple but also a full body experience. And I attended with four other women, two I "know" from blogging and two I didn't know. Altogether we represented three different countries. Pretty freaking awesome. I loved it.

I felt so good and grounded afterward... I ended up going out to eat at a restaurant.

What??

Yes. Yes, I did folks. After practically hibernating for 25 months I went out to eat on freaking Mother's Day. Hahahaha. I crack myself up. But it was awesome. Infection numbers are really low in our rural county so I felt comfortable. Also, we went at an off time (late afternoon--after the church crowd, before the dinner crowd) so it wasn't crowded, which added to our comfort. I ordered bacon wrapped shrimp, which I used to eat every Friday night but haven't had since I moved out of state FOUR years ago. Then a large party of four men and four teenage boys sat in the same area as us. Not a Mother's Day vibe in sight, ha! No one wished me a Happy Mother's Day and nobody offered me a flower (which, honestly, I would have taken lol). Dear God, the food was so good. Oh, it was so good. My boyfriend didn't have to cook. I didn't have to do the dishes. It. Was. Glorious! And on a day when I used to never leave the house. Wonders never cease...

So, that was my day. And below is the post that I had planned for today. I wrote it a week or two ago and now here it is for you.

Take care of yourself. You are important.

*****

Disclaimer: 

If my mother read this, she would be crushed. She has her own traumas that inform her behavior. She loves me. She really does. And I love her.

HOWEVER

This is my truth.

*****

I was emotionally neglected as a child. My feelings were discounted and invalidated. My developmentally appropriate behaviors were judged and punished. I was called names, told what to wear, and was forced to go to church three times a week. This was during a time when I was enrolled in all honors and AP classes and highly involved in extra-curricular activities. A typical day for me, from waking up to going to sleep, was at least 16 hours long. I was exhausted, not to mention clinically depressed. I was your typical overachiever, but the implied message I often got at home from my mother was that I was selfish and ungrateful.

The thing that sticks with me the most was being told, "I will always love you, but I do NOT like you. I'm going to this dinner and I will pretend in front of your father that everything is fine," as we walked out the door to celebrate my 18th birthday.

I had to be my own mother. I had to take care of myself emotionally. The skills I learned as a child and teenager have served me well in life, but at what cost? 

I looked forward to mothering my own child(ren). I looked forward to holding their hand when they were sick instead of making fun of them for being dramatic. I looked forward to cooking them breakfast instead of sleeping in every day. I looked forward to supporting them through difficult jobs, relationships, and decisions instead of telling them that they didn't deserve to make more money or telling them, "That's just life."

I know it wouldn't have been fair to my child(ren). It was not up to my kids to help me heal my childhood wounds. But I will always be honest and... Honestly? I was looking forward to creating what I never had.

I didn't feel supported emotionally when I was young and I don't have a healthy adult relationship with my mother now. The criticism and attempts to control me have never stopped. I never seem to be doing the right thing. It doesn't feel good, but I no longer take 100% responsibility for it all.

My mother had a tough childhood. She has her own unresolved traumas. Older me can empathize with her and I understand that she does the best she can. I know she loves me. I know she wants the best for me, even if we don't agree on what that is. I'm an adult and I DO know what is best for me now.

It's just another thing that stings, another thing that infertility took from me. 

I don't get to mother my children. But I will continue to mother myself.

*****

To end on a funny note, my mom found this card I made her 30 years ago and texted me the picture this morning. You can't say I'm not honest! Hahahahaha.

Join Us this Sunday

Well, I am never shy about sharing when I am having a hard time. I think it's important to be honest about that. It's so easy to feel alone in our struggles. But we are not. We are never alone.

March was HARD. Then April sucked too. As the saying goes... Shit happens.

But, if you've been reading my blog you know that I am committed to two things:

1.  feeling my feelings
2.  not staying stuck (eventually... I honor when I need to stop and sit with the shit.)

When I'm really, really struggling I turn to what has comforted me in the past: books. Books are where I can feel validated. Books are where I can engage in a healthy escape from my life. Books are where I can learn about myself, the world, and new coping strategies. (P.S. I am still loving my current read, Homecoming by Dr. Thema Bryant. I wrote about it in my last post.) 

My second foolproof tool is yoga. Not the annoying kind of yoga led by teachers who are happy, yet clueless and inexperienced with life's hardships. And not the competitive exercise kind of yoga that I found to be so common in the suburbs. I love what I consider to be true yoga--the kind that is not flashy or flowery and is simply about connecting your movement with your breath. When I am feeling the most anxious, yoga is the only thing that helps me calm my insides. Of course, I never stop taking my medication, but it's practicing yoga that truly helps me feel better. ;)

So, after two terrible feeling months, I was ecstatic to be invited to participate in a "run through" of Sarah's upcoming yoga class. I marked my calendar and counted down the days. It definitely did not disappoint.

The yoga class led by Sarah was gentle, yet active. She told us what to do and we followed along. I knew I'd be safe in her care, so I let my worries go. Like all great yoga classes should be, Sarah's class was perfect for both beginners and experienced yoga practitioners. 

Additionally, I was just so grateful to be in the company of women I've yet to meet but have been blogging with for over five years. Even more so, I could hardly believe that I was sharing a space online with the woman who wrote the book that gave me hope for life after infertility when I had none (Silent Sorority), a book I read many years before I ever even started blogging.

Wow.

And that's how the whole class felt. Safe. Friendly. Familiar. It was a priceless gift.

Something in me shifted. I woke up the next day, not sore necessarily, but I could tell I had invited movement into my body. It felt so good. I also felt lighter in my mood. I could tell May was going to be a better month.

And here's the great news: you can join us for Sarah's next yoga class! It's free (which is always affordable) and you can sign up HERE. It's on Sunday (cough, Mother's Day, cough) at 12:00 ET.

Let's be honest. If you're anything like me, you may want to sign up but be too nervous to commit. Do it anyway! Then, if you're anything like me, you will sign up but as the day approaches, you will feel anxious and not want to attend. Do it anyway! Then again, if you're anything like me, when the actual time comes you might not want to log in and show up. Do it anyway!

You'll be so glad you did.

Hope to see you there 💜

                                             

I Mailed a Mother's Day Card

Well. Tomorrow is Mother's Day. It used to be a day that really, really bothered me. In fact, I refused to leave the house. Now we are in a pandemic and I don't leave the house much anyway so that part won't be different. 

What is different is how I feel about the day. Honestly? I just don't care. I really don't. I think I'm just tired of society's obsession with putting mothers on a pedestal but not really doing much to actually support them. It's all a bunch of lies, a bunch of fake admiration. 

Being a mother is hard. And awesome. I assume. But I wouldn't need a day to celebrate a role I had, a day that I would end up coordinating anyway. I wouldn't need false praise from companies that don't actually provide childcare, flexible work options, or even a decent living wage. It's all pretty infuriating to be honest. I am truly sorry for mothers' hardships, but... They are also not my problems. I had/have other problems.

But I digress...

For years, the day DID bother me. A lot. I wouldn't call my mom. I wouldn't get on social media. I would just order pizza and stay on the couch. And, let's be honest, cry. It's called self-care. 

But this year is different. I got a preprinted postcard from the regional food bank in the mail. That's how I realized that Mother's Day was coming up. It was something I could mail to my mom after making a donation in her honor. And my honest-to-goodness first thought was, cool idea!

I did it. I went online, made a donation, filled out the postcard for my mom, and dropped it in the mail. I haven't mailed her a Mother's Day card in yearsss. 

But this year I did. I mailed her a card. And I'm kind of excited about it. She and I are getting along lately and I think she'll really like the postcard and the donation made in her name.

Of course, we're still in a pandemic so I'll continue to stay home tomorrow. I also won't spend much time, if any, on social media. If I do, I will scroll past all of the inevitable tribute posts.

If this day bothers you, that's okay. It's a pretty emotionally loaded day. For a lot of reasons. 

But it might not always be a debilitating day for you. 

I can honestly say I don't pay attention to when it occurs. I don't have to be aware of it like I used to in order to successfully avoid it. It's just not on my radar screen. It doesn't bother me anymore.

I will still probably order a pizza though. Sundays are good for pizza.

Plus, I just really like pizza. :)

Happy Pizza Day!

Today is a great day to do what you want. In fact, it's the perfect day to do what you want.

For the third year in a row, my husband and I ordered pizza. We've got the music blaring. We are dancing around the living room. We may or may not pack. Because, you know, we're going to do what we want. 😜

Whether he knows it or not (haha), my husband and I are celebrating our family of two. Effffff the problems, the problems with our reproductive systems and the problems with the world at large.

Today. Today we dance. Today we eat pizza.

Do What You Want

Out Of It

I finished my semester, I'm on vacation, and I am Out. Of. It.

So tired, so exhausted, so thankful, so content, but so completely done. Happy to be on vacation.

When I first mentioned this trip idea several months ago to my husband, all I thought was I'll be done with school, it's my only break in the program, and we need to take a trip together if possible! Since MD (my abbreviation for today's "holiday") isn't ever on my mind, I didn't even realize I'd be out of town for this day.

Last year for MD, I remember that I didn't even leave the house. It was a conscious decision. I didn't feel terrible but I didn't feel comfortable, so I just enjoyed a day at home, reading on the couch and eating pizza. It was fine.

This year is awesome.

Vacation is great and I really am cultivating a life that will work for me.

It's not a complete solution. I still miss my kids. I thought coming on this vacation might make me glad I didn't have kids. They are expensive and tiring and a lot of work, haven't you heard? I am "so lucky" that I "get to travel," right? Well, it's both. It's an amazing trip, but it's not the salve that fertile people think it is.

I am having fun though. And I completely forgot today was MD. And honestly, that was nice.

I'm pretty out of it and it's a nice break. 💫