More Thoughts On Change

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

I can relate.

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

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

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

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

And... I don't know. 

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

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

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.

Other People's Writing Saves Me

I just read something that I needed to read. The last time something resonated with me this hard was over a decade ago when I found Infertility Honesty's blog where she gave me a whole new language with which to understand my experience with life altering trauma.

Back then:
Oh!!! This is grief? I am grieving? Okay, that kinda makes sense... I had no idea this was grief.

Just now:
Oh!!! This is an awakening? This is a thing, this "Great Unfuckening?" This makes a lot of sense.

Let me back up. I've been going through something for the last two years. Two years ago it was 2024 and it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year. I broke up with my boyfriend, quit my job, and was devastated by my family. I stopped everything and focused on myself. I changed massively. And quickly. 

My boyfriend and I were only broken up for 3 months, and I actually only lived alone for about 2 weeks. But that short amount of time was transformative. When I sat in my silent living room all alone for those two weeks I thought about everything: my feelings as a little girl, my family dynamics, my boyfriends while growing up, my marriage, my divorce, and my current breakup. I realized so much in an unbelievably short amount of time.

In the two years since, I've remained steadfast in my efforts to put myself first. In fact, I try to put myself first, second, and third. Don't get me wrong. I love everyone. I love my boyfriend, I love my family, and I love total strangers that I don't know. I also love myself. Finally. I like myself too. It's a relief.

But despite my love for everyone, I make myself #1. I have to put myself first. No one else is going to. And it has taken years to develop the habit of asking myself what do I want and what do I need before considering what others want and need.

Anyway, I'm rambling a bit. But it's been tough. Things are really difficult with my family and after reading this post, Aging Out of Fucks: The Neuroscience of Why You Suddenly Can't Pretend Anymore by Ellen Scherr, I feel seen. I feel known. And I understand myself better.

I've got to share some quotes with you:

• "As estrogen levels shift in perimenopause and beyond, this intense drive to please and nurture others begins to diminish. What replaces it isn't bitterness. It's clarity."
  
  I feel this. From the drop in my strong nurturing drive to the clarity that is newly emerging, I feel this so much.
  
  
• "Decades of chronic low-level stress from constant social monitoring takes a biological toll... What looks like 'not having a filter' might actually be a stress response system that's finally saying 'enough'."
  
  Yes, I am actually worn out. Completely done. Put a fork in me. I can't overfunction for others anymore. Not my mom. Not a partner. Not any employer. I know more now. I see what I was doing. And now I am done.

The author talks about how we literally don't have it in us anymore to people please. She talks about the shifts that happen when we stop performing and stop providing our free emotional labor: other people get uncomfortable. She reminds us that other people's discomfort is not our problem to fix.

• "All the energy you spent managing everyone else's experience? That's now available for literally anything else. The return on investment is staggering."
  
  
• "You're not becoming difficult; you're becoming free."

I am sharing this article in case it's what you need to read too.

I found this embroidery kit if you're looking for a new hobby. I went to a workshop about decorative stitching a couple of weeks ago, and it made me think I'd like embroidery.

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.

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.

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.

Saying Something In the Moment

Sometimes I can fire off a snappy, assertive retort when I need to. But, let's be real, that's not the case most of the time. Frequently, I don't say anything in the moment. I don't always have the words. However, it can be great when I stumble through anyway and say how I feel. Saying something in the moment can help clear up misunderstandings right away.

Like with one of my sisters for example. I was talking to her on the phone recently and it was awesome. We haven't seen each other in a looong time and we haven't been to each other's homes even longer. We genuinely miss each other and we were visiting because we hadn't talked since the holidays. It was nice to catch up.

Then she said something that sucked. AND I realized in the moment that I didn't like it. So then I said something about it. All of this is progress, yay! 

First, some background info. She's been going through a lot. She got a bad diagnosis and has been going through tests and treatments and medical crap. The good news is things are finally going well. Maybe this experience will come to an end for her and she can heal and move on.

So back to the thing she said that sucked.

She said, "I'm glad that, out of the three of us, it's me that's going through this. I can handle it."

I immediately took that as my sister saying she was more resilient than me or our other sister.

I spoke up. I said something like, "That's not nice," or "I don't agree with that." I honestly don't remember specifically.

I do remember what she said. My sister said, "What? All I meant was I'm the meanest. I can tell everyone to stay away when I need them to while I'm going through this."

Literal lol. I burst out laughing. Turns out, I had misunderstood what my sister meant. I definitely took it the wrong way. It really paid off that I realized my feelings in the moment and spoke up.

And another thing... She referenced a major surgery she has coming up, something neither one of us had yet mentioned throughout our phone conversation. And I, remembering how much I hated talking about procedures and medical stuff while going through infertility, offhandedly said, "Oh, I was just gonna pretend that wasn't happening until it was over."

This time she immediately laughed out loud. She said, "And that's why I love talking to you. With mom, it's always a million questions and plans. With you, I don't have to say anything."

So there's my feel good story that I wanted to share. I love my sister (yes, the insensitive one).

Speak up when you think of it. Practice recognizing your feelings in the moment. Give yourself grace when you realize stuff after the moment. How many millions of times have I thought of something good to say long after an interaction... 

But we all get better with practice. 

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!!

First Day of 2022 & 2021 Year in Review

Happy New Year! I'm kind of excited about 2022. There are so many quilts I want to make, lol.

*****

Even though I'm looking forward to making quilts and working on my home, the first day of 2022 found me in tears. Loud, wailing tears. I felt so sad and devastated. I really missed my children.

Overall, I like to share how much I love my new life that I've created. The happiness and contentment that I have are very real. But so are the massive losses that prompted all of it. And sometimes I feel my losses and the longing for my children very, very strongly. It's important that I share this part of my life too.

It happened on Saturday morning (1/1/22). I was hanging out with my boyfriend at home when all of a sudden I started tearing up, told him I was having feelings, and went to the bedroom and had a massive cry. A very loud, very painful, very visceral, and very real cry. I did what I could in the moment. I felt it. And it sucked.

Seven years prior (1/1/15) I had my first embryo transfer.

Oh. Yeah...
And January, February, and March have sucked ever since.
(Well, some things can lessen over time... Maybe they will suck less this year?)

So that's how 2022 started. I also felt better later in the day. I really do appreciate all that I do have. I put up the Xmas ornaments, cleaned out the fridge, and did some laundry. I made sausage and jalapeno queso because it felt like a festive thing to do. And, of course, I sewed.

So that's how 2022 started (crying) and how I'm feeling about it (enthusiastic anyway, haha)...

***** 

As for 2021, I read Mali's recent year in review post and wanted to reflect myself.

We all know life has been hard for the last couple of years...
(And, in our CNBC community, we all know it was hard before then too.) 

But... 

DANG, thanks to books, blogs, and a commitment to personal insight and change, 2021 was a major year of personal growth for me. I wrote about it a lot, but here are 3 of my favorite posts.

My first post of the year was written on Jan. 1st when I was feeling strong feelings just like this past Saturday. (Fertility treatments can be so traumatizing. The body definitely remembers!)

Then later in January I wrote a very honest post about how I used to always put everyone else first. It was important that I was honest with myself about this lifelong pattern of mine.

Continuing with my personal growth, I read four books this year:

• Women Who Love Too Much by Robin Norwood
• The Empath's Survival Guide: Life Strategies for Sensitive People by Dr. Judith Orloff
• When Your Mother Has Borderline Personality Disorder by Daniel S. Lobel
• The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson.

I wrote a post about a topic I read about in the second book, Dr. Orloff's concept of energy vampires. All of the books were helpful though. I read the first three when I was unemployed last spring and I read the last one while I was unemployed this past month. So, hey, I take advantage of my time when I'm not working. Cheers to personal growth lol.

Which brings me to my Top 5 Most Read posts of 2021:

     5. My Name is Mine 

(I finished changing my name on everything. I no longer have the last name that my children would've had.)

     4. Feeling Insecure 

(I think feeling insecure is relatable in general. With regard to this post specifically, in hindsight, I think all of my weird feelings about my job were my intuitive instincts just screaming at me to run in the opposite direction. But, it can be hard to know in the moment. Going through infertility definitely shook my sense of security. And my nerves are still frayed.)

     3. Awkward Introduction 

(Yeah, geez, that job was weird... This post highlights the fertile bias that was overwhelmingly present at my new job orientation.)

     2. Fifth Times's the Charm

(The absolute best part of 2021, and hell, from the whole decade of 2011 - 2021 was buying my home. It's not a house I would've bought if I was raising children. It's not even in a town where I would live if I was raising children. But it is perfect. It's perfect for me, perfect for my boyfriend, and perfect for our lives together. Anyway, this post describes all five of the moves I've made since knowing I would be living life after infertility without kids.)

     1. Relatable Words from Others

(I'm surprised this is my most popular post of the year, but it is probably because Mali wrote about it here. Thank you Mali!! This post is about two different patients I had and the comments they made to me. I love providing patient care. I look forward to my next job where I get to do that.)

Then, last but not least, I also really liked my last post of the year.
Each year is full of "insignificant" days.
We deserve to enjoy them.

My first 8-point star blocks!

(Sorry for the bad lighting; it was late at night. This quilt will be for a knitter. Do any of you readers like to knit? I don't know any knitters. I just felt compelled to make these blocks.)

Growth Spurts

No, I am not getting taller. ;) But I am changing. I guess we always are. 

Unless we're staying stuck.

Growth is painful. It's so hard. But staying the same isn't any easier.

I've shared that I'm going back and reading my old posts to add labels to them. Last night I read posts from January and February 2018. Wow. I remember hating my grad school program, but I forgot just how difficult it really was for me. Especially that last semester of coursework. I was still so raw with grief and I was studying pediatrics with a bunch of recent college graduates (i.e., much younger women), toxic professors, and one very pregnant classmate. 

I have come a long way.

(Thanks to all of you for playing a big part in my growth!)

It was kinda weird to read over my old posts knowing that I would be leaving my husband in six short months but not having any idea about it at the time.

So much growth.

And now, as I've also previously shared, I am trying to make good use of my time while being unemployed during a pandemic. So far, I have read three different self-help books about various topics in an effort to understand myself and my patterns so that I can be empowered to change what isn't working for me.

Growth is hard. It's so painful. But what's the alternative?

I've also previously shared that I thought I'd be more settled by now. In the past I imagined I would have bought a house, made some friends, and be well into my new career by now. Instead, I am renting, quarantining, and on the job market. But part of my growth from infertility is learning to lower my expectations. I am okay with where I am in life. Mostly. I am definitely grateful.

My past behavioral patterns make sense to me. I understand how they came to be, and I know that it is within my power to change them. I'm practicing saying no to things I don't want to do. I always thought of myself as a strong person, and I am, but I also have lifelong habits of just doing what others want to do. 

I am communicating what I need to my boyfriend.
It is up to him if chooses to meet those needs.

I am setting boundaries with my mother.
It is up to her if she chooses to respect those boundaries.

(I love both of these people very much. My relationships with them are worth our efforts.)

I think a big step in my most recent growth was quitting my job. Yes, it got bad enough to where I didn't feel safe, but I'm also proud of myself because it was really, really hard to tell my boss that I would NOT be attending meetings in person as expected.

Another big step was leaving my marriage.
It was fun until it wasn't. It worked until I realized it didn't.
There were definitely major problems there.

The growth just never stops, does it? Innocently, I thought I'd be done once I made it to the recovery side of infertility. Hahahahahaha hahahaha. At least I haven't lost my sense of humor.

Would I have time for all of this introspection and personal growth if I was raising children? Maybe. Maybe not. More importantly, I have to stop thinking like that. I'm going to practice not asking myself that question anymore. There is no way of knowing and it really doesn't matter. That would be another life in another realm and who knows what I would and would not be making time for.

Which... Is another sign of my growth.

Roller Coaster Living

 I've got a lot on my mind. Unfortunately, not much of it is positive. Let's jump in, shall we?

1. I had a very upsetting phone call with my mom yesterday. We were talking about books and recipes and whatnot. I try to keep the topics pretty neutral because I don't need her criticizing me, lecturing me, or otherwise invalidating my thoughts, feelings, and/or experiences. But I couldn't do it yesterday. I couldn't do the surface stuff anymore. When she asked if I had any upcoming time off, I asked her if she was asking whether I had any upcoming time off or if I was going to be traveling during the pandemic. That was the opening into a conversation about what is really going on in the world.
   
   Long story short, we have completely different ideas about what taking precautions looks like and I don't think I'll be seeing anyone I'm related to anytime this year or even next. It's angering and sad. I thought it was a decent enough conversation and that she was listening as best as she is able to, but then she texted me later in the day about needing to see me for Thanksgiving. In her exact words she wrote, "There are worse things than Covid--like not seeing your kids!" 
   
   Pause. Pause.
   Let that sink in.
   
   My own mother disregarded my entire experience with infertility with one single statement. 
   
   I am so pissed. I can give her a list of a lot of things that are harder than not seeing your kids THAT YOU GOT TO HAVE AND RAISE. (And, yes, getting Covid IS one those harder things... So is not getting to have and raise your children at all.)
   
   
   
2. My next point is somewhat related. It's about Energy Vampires. Unfortunately, I have a new co-worker that prompted me to find an old book I'd read, pull it from the shelf, dust it off, and begin reading it again. The book is wonderful and it has helped me a lot. It's entitled "The Empath's Survival Guide: Life Strategies for Sensitive People" by Dr. Judith Orloff. She starts chapter 5, called "Protecting Yourself from Narcissists and Other Energy Vampires," by stating, "Energy vampires are attracted to the openness and loving hearts of empaths. Sensitive people need to be prepared for them." Yes, yes we do!
   
   I'm encountering a new-to-me phenomenon: people who are jealous of my hard work and want to steal my happiness and personal peace of mind. But again, I have infertility to thank for my new awareness of these predatory behaviors. Now I can see it happening before I'm already entrenched in a friendship. I know the counselor that I saw for a year and a half during my failed fertility treatments and my subsequent recovery from them would be so proud of me and my hard-earned progress.
   
   I noticed the "energy vampire" activity because I didn't feel good when I was around this person. Like, my stomach physically hurt. Then I would be extremely tired after being in the same room with them for an extended period of time. This person was constantly questioning my life choices (not having kids, not adopting, getting divorced, moving to this small town, etc.) and I thought it was extremely weird. I mean, I just met this person! Fortunately, I am so confident in everything I've done in the last 5.5 years of my life to get to this point that my confidence in my life decisions is unshakeable. Maybe this is the first time I have actually felt secure in my lifetime... Whatever it is, her questions began to really annoy me. They were tinged with judgement and I wondered if her obvious unhappiness was just as obvious to her. Regardless, I'm keeping this co-worker at a safe distance and reviewing protection strategies for myself from this wonderful book that I'm revisiting.
   
   
   
3. I'm having surgery tomorrow. Yes, the saying is true. When it rains, it pours...
   
   (But I had to have a covid test before I could be approved for surgery, so I'm happy to know that I am not, as of this point, an asymptomatic carrier walking around and spreading the virus. I am really glad to know that.)
   
   It's not the hysterectomy procedure that I scheduled for early this summer and then canceled due to covid stress and moving across the state. I met with my new doctor. He's male, which was not my preference, but I instantly liked him so I decided to stick with him. He has a great bedside manner, listened to all of my concerns, and answered all of my questions. Together we decided that a LEEP procedure would be the next best step. He will receive a pathology report after the procedure and I will either be all clear or then we will schedule a hysterectomy. Hopefully, tomorrow's procedure removes all of the unhealthy cells!
   
   

So, in my humble opinion, that's enough for now. A somewhat estrangement from my family (Is it an estrangement if the other people don't even realize?), majorly negative vibes from someone at work, and a full blown procedure with general anesthesia tomorrow. 

It's all right. I'm not going anywhere. I'm resilient and strong. 

This world can't knock me down. I'm along for the ride!

Another Weird Anniversary

I had another anniversary of sorts this week. As of this week, I've been legally divorced for a year. It's crazy to think about ending fertility treatments just 5 years ago, selling our house 4 years ago, and now... I'm divorced.

I loved being married and then overnight I knew it wasn't a good marriage for me.

Except it wasn't overnight of course.

He and I had a long history. Love at first sight, dated? Friends for a long time, stayed in touch off and on, reconnected, dated for real, loved each other, got married.

But we didn't live happily ever after. Well, not together anyway.

I knew where I was compromising, but I chose to get married anyway. I wanted him to be the father of my children. I loved him and I loved being married. But it wasn't easy. I was lonely a lot.

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes infertility. I will always be thankful he was there for me. He did everything I asked even though, like most people, doctors' offices were one of his least favorite places. He sat with me who-knows-how-many times as I cried. Then we made new plans together and worked toward completely changing our lives.

But then, over a matter of months, everything changed. The closer we got to moving out of state, the more unexplainably angry he got. When it came down to it, I don't think he wanted to move as much as he/we thought he wanted to move.

He was the man I married, the man I chose to be the father of my children. When our children never came, it turned out he and I actually wanted very different things out of life. While my marriage got me through infertility, my marriage did not survive infertility.

There were several arguments leading up to me leaving him. The first one was bad, but I chalked it up to the stress of moving. The second one was also bad. It was only a month after the first argument and it really made me think. The third argument... Honestly? I went to bed. I was so tired and so sad. But I was also so, so over it. I knew I was done.

In a way, I did know almost overnight. It sucked and I didn't want to leave him, but I also didn't want to stay married to him. I knew I'd figure it out, one step at a time. I knew I'd survive getting divorced. 

Over the course of deciding to leave him, telling him, separating our stuff, dealing with the paperwork, and seeing him for the last time, I felt every single emotion possible. Except regret.

Now it has been a year. And we are in the middle of a global crisis. And all I can think about is how crazy everything is and how relieved I am to be divorced. I'm infertile and I'm divorced and I'm content. It's weird. Infertility and divorce refocused me. I know what's important to me in my life now. Infertility and divorce took all of my fucks. I have none left to give.

On the surface, I am currently anxious and worried. This pandemic and all of the changes it's causing are extremely stressful. Everything is at risk- our health, the economy, social norms, life as we knew it.

But deep down, I also have a hardened resolve. I may hate what's going on, but I'll get through it.

So here's to a year of divorce and to the gratitude I've cultivated for life's hardest learned lessons.