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.

The Observer & The Experiencer

"Why did I even have kids?"

That was another thing that my mom said to me during our phone conversation last week. It really bothered me. After we hung up, I cried. The whole conversation was tough. The whole thing was just so careless and insensitive. I called her the next day to confront her about the question above and she brushed it off as something she just said off-handedly, that she didn't mean anything by it. Okay...

But in the moment? In the moment my honest-to-goodness first thought was, "Well, that's a question only you can answer." It was my Observer speaking.

I learned about cultivating the Observer and the Experiencer at my old yoga studio in my old town. I learned so many good things there. I got so many tools for life from that place. It will always hold a special place in my heart.

I'm not sure I will explain it well, but it's just like it sounds. The Experiencer is the part of you that is experiencing a situation complete with your thoughts and your feelings and all. The Observer is the part of you that is removed from the situation and can see it without everything that comes with experiencing it. I guess, if I were to guess, the Observer is more objective while the Experiencer is more subjective. 

Why did my mom have kids? I don't know... I can guess, but I really don't know. Probably because it was expected of her and she was fertile. Probably because she never made a conscious decision to not have children. But really and truly, that is not a question that I can answer for her.

It's also not a question that should be said to me, her infertile daughter.

Stress & Privilege

"What do you have to be stressed about?"

That question was posed to me this morning. It's not the first time my mother has said this to me, but it still sucks. I know it is a rude and judgmental thing to say to another person, but it still hurts. Even worse, she followed it up with, "I went through the same thing and I had a whole family to take care of." Well, shit.

It was a horrible conversation. I should have known better and not answered the phone. I had just returned home the previous day from a long (but good) work-related trip. I was exhausted. I didn't have the emotional reserves to buffer myself.

I was criticized and accused. There was no empathy. She was getting more and more upset as we talked. I told her I'd like to stay on the phone until she felt better. She sounded like she felt better by the time we hung up. I felt awful.

From the outside, it's easy to see how crazy it all is.
As the one experiencing it, it is very, very hard to process. 

She told me she felt like she had to walk on eggshells around me, and I told her I felt the same.

There is no answer. There is no solution. I am out of strategies. 

Thankfully, I have emotional support in other areas of my life. 

*****

So let's move on to my week-long trip. It was long. It was busy. It was expensive. It was great.

I felt a roller coaster of emotions throughout the week. At times I was excited. At other times, I felt overwhelmed. By the last day I was in extreme physical pain. I blame 1) the stress (even positive stress is still stress) and 2) what I ate. I am not 25 anymore! I ate out for every meal, and I tend to go for the fried and/or cheesy food. Apparently, I cannot do that anymore. Not for every meal. Lesson learned! For my last meal, I ordered a salad. Better late than never, right? ;)

Toward the end of my trip, as I was talking myself down from the stress, I realized that I had what so many other women wanted: a week to myself. I had no one else's needs to attend to, no one else's preferences to consider. Other than my scheduled meetings, I could do what I want. And that I did! As I already mentioned, I ate what I wanted when I wanted. I did some shopping. I went to bed early. I lived life on my terms. Which, I suppose, I usually do anyway... But this was in a different state in a new city and, even though it was a work-related trip, it was also a vacation. 

I've shared before that I don't like to travel. I love my comforts of home. But I can still recognize what a privilege it is to have the health, means, and opportunity to travel. 

It was a privilege to get to spend a week by myself.

July 4th Anniversaries

I want you to choose yourself.

I want you to fiercely protect your peace.

I want you to pursue what inspires and nourishes you.

Infertility changed me.

Being childless-not-by-choice changed me.

The pandemic changed me.

2024 alone changed me.

Pic from SelfLoveRainbow

We have ONE LIFE.

(Thank you Tom Petty!)

Pic retrieved from this tribute post

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

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

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

*****

July 4th.
Yesterday was a contrast in anniversaries. 

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

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

I've been allowed to just be.

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

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

Pic retrieved from Ontario Science Centre

Infantilizing Childless Women

My family isn't very nice to me. 

There. I said it.

I'm 45 years old and I am constantly criticized for all of my choices: where I live, what I do for work, who I choose as my partner, and how I spend my time. At this point, it is absolutely ridiculous. I am fine. I'm employed. I pay my bills. I am kind. I have hobbies. I volunteer. 

But I don't need to tell you all of this. I don't even need to tell myself. 

I am enough and I don't need to explain my existence or reasoning. 

It's just really, really sad.

I woke up in a bit of a funk yesterday morning. I knew my extended family was gathering for the holidays yesterday, but I chose to take care of myself, not travel, and stay home. I don't regret my decision, but I still missed seeing my cousins. I called my parents to visit and my mom was so mean. She's the kind of person that will insult you and then tell you, "You're overthinking it," when you call her out on it. That is exactly what happened yesterday. I tried not to let it, but it really soured my day. I am a high achieving, accomplished adult, and I am treated like I am an ignorant teenager making bad choices. It's beyond annoying.

I feel like I'm constantly having realizations about my relationships with my family members and learning how to interact differently. But it's a neverending evolution apparently. Hopefully, I learned some new things yesterday because I am really tired of feeling like a hurt and misunderstood kid.

Do I go low contact? I've tried every other strategy so far. I've done nothing wrong. But I am still insulted. My life and my choices are not respected. How my life is and how I am treated by my family is completely incongruous.

Is it because I'm not married? Because I don't have kids? Because I'm the youngest?

I thought as my niece and nephew grew up, the family would realize I was also growing up. But my young adult niece and nephew seem to have surpassed me in the family. They are not criticized for where they live or what they do. It is really, really, really fucking weird.

I am glad I stayed home this weekend. I am glad I did the best I could to take care of myself. I am sorry that I hung up the phone yesterday and continued to replay all of the criticisms lobbed at me on repeat in my head all day. I tried writing a letter to myself in my head telling myself all of the things I wanted to hear. 

I don't know what else to do. I feel like I cannot deal with this anymore. It's not good for me.

It's not right, and it's not fair. I survived my worst nightmare. I don't have kids after planning for them and structuring my entire life around having them. I've been through so much stress and dealt with so much grief: infertility, failed treatments, moving, divorce, a pandemic. I know I've done an amazing, awesome job, but I don't want to have to tell my parents that anymore. It should be the other way around. They should be telling me, not me trying to convince them. 

Did I mention that I'm 45??

And it's not like I'm trying to explain myself. It just happens in conversation. My mom will ask what I've been up to this week, I'll share things like "working and sewing," and whatever I say is always the wrong thing. Wrong job, wrong hobby. It's. So. Bizarre.

When I was a kid and she was mad at me, my mother used to smirk and tell me all the time, "I hope you grow up and have a daughter just like you." And to my credit, I would say, "Me too. Then at least someone in my life would make sense."

Yesterday was just another day in my life with my parents. But just like the acquaintance I wrote about in my last post (the "I know you don't want to see any newborn pictures, but do you want to see just one?" lady), people will say the weirdest shit to me. And out of all of the venting I did to my boyfriend yesterday, I still didn't even tell him the most hurtful thing my mom said. (He is so over it. I was grateful that he was listening to me, but I also wanted to spare him.)

Yesterday my mother said to me, "I know you don't like to hear this. But, as a parent, that's just how it [parenting] is." My MOM tried to parent-splain (that's my version of "mansplain") her treatment of me, her middle aged daughter, as reasonable because she claimed that's how parenting is while simultaneously referencing the fact that I have no children and inferring that I don't know what it's like. 

😳

Wow, lady. 

Just wow.

Extreme Burnout

For the duration of this blog (8 years next month!), I have written about how tired I am.

You know my story...

Infertility, failed treatments, and realizing I won't be raising kids in this lifetime wiped me out. For a couple of years I didn't do much. I volunteered Wednesday mornings and went out to dinner with my husband every Friday night. I wasn't working because I assumed that I would eventually get pregnant. I wasn't socializing because all of my friends were getting pregnant and having kids. I was too anxious and depressed to actually enjoy doing anything, so I wasn't doing anything for fun. At least I had my dog at the time.

Then I decided, since I couldn't have kids, I was going to have to completely change my life or resign myself to always feeling like walking death. From the house we bought to my chosen profession of teaching, every major decision I had made in life was structured around having children. But I didn't have children, so the life I had created did not make sense. In fact, it hurt me deeply in every waking moment. Grief is exhausting, especially disenfranchised grief because it's so isolating.

I decided to sell the house I bought for my children, go back to school to change careers, and move out of state. I did all of that and then got divorced. Everything was exhausting. I also kept moving in search of a place where I wanted to live. Then the pandemic hit. 

Throw in more school (a privilege but still stressful) and several more job changes due to hazardous conditions at one place, an untrustworthy co-worker at another place, and being grossly underpaid at the last place...

I have been very tired for a very, very long time.

And I think I have reached my limit.

I tried giving myself a three-month sabbatical several years ago. It helped at the time but not overall. So now I am just following through with what I've already said I'd do and not committing to anything new.

I went out of town the last two weekends. One was a quick but stressful overnight family trip. The other was a days-long professional conference. Then this week, despite getting enough sleep every night, I have felt sick. Waves of nausea come and go throughout the day. I am worn out.

Infertility took so much from me. It is more than losing my kids and not getting to be a mom. It's also all the time lost to fear, anxiety, stress, depression, and exhaustion. It's the arduous recovery from the whole experience. It's the picking up the pieces of what's left and figuring out what to do with myself instead... and then actually doing it. I HAD to get up every day and do the things that I needed to do to get to where I am now. Nobody else could do it for me. But damn it was hard and I am still so, so tired.

I am trying to renew my health. I have exercised once a week for the last three weeks. That's not a lot, but it's a start. I am about to begin a new sew-along for a new quilt, and that community is fun. The season is changing and I love the fall and winter. I will feel better in time, but it is going to take an extended period of decreased demands on myself.

I am grateful I am in a good place. I like myself and I like where I am. But damn, I can just barely deal with life anymore. I am doing the bare minimum and giving myself a lot of grace. 

It's been a long 12 years.

Take good care of yourself.

I like to color. It's calming, and it requires no thought or precision. 

You don't even have to stay in the lines if you don't want to.

Personal Update & Peer Support

Hello! Hi! How are you? I've missed you. 

And quite honestly, I need you. Thank you for being here.

In my last post, I didn't know if I was ending this blog or not. Well, actually, I thought I was done with it. I thought the theme had run its course. I mean, I achieved my goal. I created a life I want to live. And now I am living it.

What happened is I got my feelings hurt. By two little anonymous comments that really weren't that big of a deal, just strangers spouting their opinion on what I'd written without full context or understanding. The first time it happened I engaged. The second time I did not. But I thought, life is hard enough, I don't need this. And I don't. None of us do. So I took a break from blogging.

But guess what.

It's not the strangers that can hurt us the most. It is the people we know and love. Or rather, it is the people we thought we knew that can cut us deeply... 

Over the last several months while I haven't been blogging, I had a close family member say very mean, rude, and unnecessary things to me. I don't want to write about it yet because I would hate for anything to go viral when I am still struggling with processing and navigating the whole thing. I apologize for being vague. You're not missing anything juicy or interesting. A close family member said some things and made a very short-sighted decision, and I am very very hurt. Like, this will permanently affect our relationship. What the future will look like, I do not know. But I do know that things will never be the same. There was Before and there will be After.

So if a stranger is hate-reading my blog, whatever asinine and judgmental comments they leave me behind their "anonymous" shield won't really affect me anymore. They can't hurt me. I don't even know them.

It's the people we love that can hurt us the most. Being deeply hurt is the biggest thing that's happened to me this summer. It's changed everything.

Other important updates are that my boyfriend and I are back together and have been for a while now. We worked hard to communicate, we're each making our own changes, and we are happily back together! I am not surprised that we got back together because I knew we loved and liked each other so much, but I was surprised by how quickly it all happened.

Also, I quit another job. I loved that job, but I was very underpaid. It didn't feel good. I grew a lot professionally in that position, but it was definitely time for me to move on. It was scary to quit, but I knew I needed to so I did.

I still have my other job that I love. It's in a nursing home and I only work every now and then. 

But I already have a new part-time job and it has nothing to do with caregiving!

For the past 27 years, I've worked in education and healthcare. I have taken care of thousands of other people's children, parents, and grandparents. It's wonderful, awesome, rewarding, and a privilege to be a caregiver. It is also exhausting. And lacking in reciprocity. (Just being honest...) But when I'm giving my all to students and patients, I don't really get that much back. They're not MY kids or parents or grandparents. It is a professional relationship that does not involve unconditional love or even fellowship outside of our appropriate setting. Plus, caregiving jobs are typically done by women and are extremely underpaid. It's a lot of giving without getting a lot in return. I hate to say all of this, but it's true. And knowing all of this makes me appreciate this new job opportunity working for a small, family-owned company. I don't think I ever want to fully step away from healthcare, but I don't think I will ever be able to do clinical work full-time. It's extremely demanding, and I need to honor the sensitive constitution that I was born with. 

These have all been good realizations for me.

It's a lot of change. I had no idea that year 2024 was going to be so transformational. It feels like I'm letting everything go (relationships, jobs, old behavioral patterns) and seeing what comes back. My life is restructuring itself. Again. 

And amidst all of this, I have returned to working on my research about involuntary childlessness. Here's something interesting. I found it was harder to go through the narrative data this time around compared to previous periods of data analysis. It's taken me by surprise. I've had to slow down, work in shorter bursts, and give myself emotional recovery time. It's hard reading about other women's difficult experiences and all of the things that have been said and done to them. Really hard. Especially when it's all so relatable.

But I am committed! And I am grateful. What an opportunity and privilege to be able to conduct an international qualitative pilot study. I am looking forward to sharing the results of my research at several different state conferences this fall. Then I will draft an article for publication in an academic journal to get the research officially documented and accessible!

But I need you. I need this community. I have myself, my understanding boyfriend, and my supportive friends. But there's my family that always invalidates and infantilizes me. And there's a whole, big pronatalist world that makes so many assumptions about me and my life. It's just hard being so misunderstood. I know members of other marginalized groups feel the same way.

We need each other.

(Image taken from a company website that provides website support.
I know nothing about this company, just giving credit to where I found the picture.)

WOTY 2023 Addendum

Aaand I just realized that I would have hated my WOTY for 2023 back when I was trying to get pregnant. Telling a woman to relax when she's trying to get pregnant is insulting. It adds to her guilt, shame, and sense that she is doing something wrong. It's a mean thing to say. It SUCKS. And yes, I heard it a lot.

So I'm pretty surprised that I've been thinking about a word for over a month now without even associating it with that. It wasn't until after I posted my last post that I had my facepalm moment.

But I guess that goes to show that whatever may be taking up all of our brain space in the moment, changes. It changes. 

Now when I think about the word "relax" I just think about pausing, taking a deep breath, lowering my shoulders, and relaxing my forehead. That might all sound weird. But apparently I am just hunching up my shoulders and furrowing my brow unknowingly because it seems I can always do something physical to help myself relax a little. 

So, anyway, not the greatest post. But I just had to comment on my word choice. 

But I won't worry about it. I'll just practice relaxing. ;)

When People Are Noise

Some people will never change. Some people will never get it.

Thankfully, I have changed. What used to make me angry now makes me annoyed. What used to hurt me now shows me what's in other people's hearts and minds. Others' rudeness, meanness, and inconsideration have nothing to do with me. It's not my fault, and it's not my problem.

What prompted this latest round of thoughts? 

I talked to my sister yesterday. The insensitive one. Although nobody in my family has shown me they're willing to go the extra mile to even consider what living childless not by choice is like, this sister takes it to another level. Quite honestly, calling her insensitive is euphemistic for cruel.

So yesterday... My sister doesn't return most of my texts so when she called yesterday, even though I was just sitting down for a big work session for school assignments, I answered the phone. What resulted was a 45-minute conversation where she did not ask me a single question. She did, however, go on about cleaning out her closets for the past three weekends. She told me, "You have no idea how much stuff you can gather. It takes so long to go through everything." Of course, I just moved my stuff out of storage after seven years and spent two weeks unpacking and sorting (keep, donate, throw away), but she doesn't know any of that. I just agreed and let her prattle on. There's no getting in a single word with her and her one-sided "conversations."

But guess what her good news was. 

Her daughter's boyfriend has started calling her "Mamma Smith." Isn't that the greatest?? Isn't that just so cute?? Like she told me, "He calls me Mom! That feels so good!"

Um... 😑

"I can only imagine," is what I think I mustered to say.

She went on for a bit while I sat there with my mouth hanging open listening to her talk about how great it is to be called Mom. How thoughtless. How totally and completely thoughtless of her. 

I was mad. I was sad. But mostly... I was over it.

*****

I am reaching a new point of acceptance. I accept that my family, especially this sister, will never get it. I am learning to accept that they'll never provide the understanding or comfort that I seek. 

2022 has been quite the year of rest and growth for me. And it's not over yet!

My conversation with my sister may have sucked, but I am thankful for my sense of self and everything else I've worked so hard to cultivate in my life.

*****

Ignore the haters, my friends!

(Image found at https://www.myasbn.com/small-business/entrepreneurship/how-to-ignore-the-haters-and-the-naysayers/)

Marching On

I didn't cry today, but I cried hard yesterday. Twice. It's not just my upcoming infertility survivor anniversary. It's also the pandemic. It's two years of the pandemic. It's the fact that tomorrow will mark exactly two years since my boyfriend and I last ate in a restaurant. That can easily sound superficial when so many people are suffering worldwide, but it represents that every routine and element of structure in my life changed entirely. Over a weekend.

It's a lot for all of us to absorb, process, and endure.

I think that's why I'm moving even slower this March.

Last night I read my journal entries from this month last year. Thankfully, I'm definitely feeling better than I was then. For one, I'm vaccinated. That offers some relief. Also, I have my new (old) house. Buying a home wasn't even on my radar screen this time last year.

This time last year I was still in disbelief about quitting my previous job (due to lack of covid precautions) and was worried about finding a new job. I actually wrote that I wanted to avoid getting into another negative work situation.

Oops.

I quit a hazardous job just to get a new job that was hostile. Once I realized, I tried what I could. And then when there was nothing I could do to change my situation at work, I quit.

And here I am again, processing my latest job and worried about finding a new one. And just like last year, as time passes, memories of random experiences from that last job fly up into my consciousness and I feel things all over again.

It was a really bad experience.

It was bad for many reasons. I won't bore you with the details or the insults. However, for this blog, there is one detail worth noting: I felt like my co-worker judged me for not having children. 

Here are just some of the comments she made to me:

• "I have to check my phone. I have kids." (Implying that I don't have to check my phone? That I don't have important people in my life? Just thoughtless, really...)
  
  
• "I don't have time to read articles at home like you. I have to do everything late at night after my kids go to bed." (Okay... I was only asking when she found the time at work to read recent research.)
  
  
• "I can't afford to buy things for work. I have my own children to buy for." (Ouch. I didn't even say anything to her. That comment was completely voluntary after I brought in a couple of things.)
  

Maybe those comments aren't that big of a deal. Maybe in isolation they're pretty harmless. Maybe I'm reading into things. Here's what I do know. I was on a two-person team and the other person was lying to me and lying about me to our manager, so it wasn't very hard for me to be "overly sensitive" and take her comments personally.

She just wasn't nice to me.

I got the feeling she didn't view me as being on the same level as the other adults in the office. She didn't talk to me conversationally, only the other parents in the office. She associated me with the single co-workers in their 20s. And it seemed to be very important to her to periodically tell me that I was a new grad. Then I would remind her that, yes, I was new to our particular field, but I was coming with 25 years of experience working with kids. One time I also reminded her that she and I were only 4 years apart.

But what's that lesson I've learned since quitting that job and reading that book?

Oh yeah. I don't have to explain myself. ;)

Marching on... We're almost halfway through!

💚🍀💚

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. 

It's Not You

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

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

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

It's. Not. You.

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

Ok, it's me. 

It's me who needs to hear this.

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

💜

Beware of Vampires

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rereading Old Posts

NOW:

We are six weeks into the new year and I have been processing A LOT, including, but not limited to, quitting my job, my marriage and divorce, relationships with family members, my relationship with myself, and how I continue to live my life after infertility without my children. It hasn't been easy. I thought I cried a lot before 2021? Well, this year has been especially... Cleansing.

I do feel a strong internal pressure to get moving (i.e., get a new job), but I know that if I do right now I will not be effective in whatever I do next. How do I explain that in a professional way in my next job interview? "Yeah, I took some time off to finally process, uninterrupted, the last traumatic decade of my life?" No... I'll have to come up with a different answer. In the meantime, I will continue to replenish my resources.

I have a lot to be thankful for, but that's not what I'm processing. I am processing the onslaught of meanness that I allowed in my life for so long. I am realizing what I need to feel loved and known and I am learning how to communicate my boundaries, whether they are respected or not.

I don't want to constantly analyze my feelings and interactions, but I am TIRED of reliving the same dynamics over and over. I must think and read and reflect about all of this stuff so that I can empower myself to change my ingrained patterns. 

I've worked hard and I deserve to enjoy the happiness I've found and created for myself. I don't have to explain or justify it, no matter who is demanding answers from me (e.g., my mom). I don't have to answer the phone if I know I am only going to be insulted (e.g., my middle sister).

THEN:

While going through infertility, I lost the majority of my friendships. It HURT SO BAD. But it changed me forever. I am no longer eager to have people in my life just because I've known them a long time or because we are related. I need people that support me and that I can support. I don't need a big group of people. I have definitely learned that lesson.

I'm going through and rereading my old posts so I can add labels to them. When I was first reading IF blogs, this was one of my favorite ways to read people's old posts. I would click on a label that resonated with me that day and read all of the related posts. So that is what I am going back and doing for my posts now.

Wow. It has been an interesting experience going back and reading what I wrote. I'm so glad I started blogging when I did or I would have forgotten so many thoughts and feelings from my recovery process. I have grown. A LOT. I can see it in my own writing. I am stronger, more self-confident, and more self-assured. I have my experiences with infertility and my hard-earned recovery from it to thank for my newfound clarity.

But you know what? Growth is lonely. Growth is change. And people don't do well when you start changing. You can't be their subconscious punching bag anymore. You can't be the person they know that is worse off than them. (Yes, this gives certain personality types a vast amount of comfort.) You aren't the same person anymore and they don't know how to handle the new you. Some people will celebrate with you. Some people are up for the excitement of getting to know the new you and your growth. Others simply fade away.

NOW:

I'm thankful for my growth. I'm glad I was willing to face my loneliness. I am still frustrated and processing a lot, but I am not where I used to be. I like myself and, pandemic aside, I like my life.

I no longer deal with the haters.

The statement above is a goodie I saw on twitter.

And I had to share another fabric pic... Meow! ;) 

💜

Love & Anger

I've been in a tough spot lately.
My sister is going through a major medical event and I've been struggling with how to support her.

On the one hand, it's easy. Send a text! Give her a call! Mail a card! On the other hand, it's not easy. I don't think she really wants to talk about it and she has plenty of people closer to her other than me to offer support. I've tried texting and calling, but she is hot and cold on whether or not she returns my texts or calls. I don't judge her for that. She's totally allowed to respond or not respond, especially when she's dealing with something difficult.

My problem is my own feelings. They are ugly.
And I will be honest about them out loud with my boyfriend and here on this blog only. 

When I think about my sister and how I can support her, I immediately feel resentful. I feel angry, and I feel hurt. This sister was not supportive to me during infertility. Not only was she unsupportive, quite honestly, she was cruel. I wrote a very popular blog post about some of the things she said to me over the years. They were unhelpful, unnecessary, and just plain mean. She vaguely apologized many years later but that's about it. I was excited at the time and wrote a post about it, thinking it might be the start of a new phase for our relationship. But it wasn't.

I love my sister, in case that isn't obvious. Our relationship has an incredible foundation because she was the greatest big sister to me while I was growing up. She played with me and took me places and did fun stuff with me all of the time. I missed her badly when she went off to college. But, relationships change and evolve over the decades, and we haven't been extremely close in a really long time. But the love between us is definitely there.

So I recognize and accept my conflicted feelings. I respect the fact that I'm still hurt and angry, and I can still be supportive to my sister anyway. Because of the pandemic and the precautions I am taking, I don't feel like it's safe to be around my family. Therefore, I can't visit her or provide any direct care. (My boyfriend says she doesn't want this from me anyway and I think he's probably right. She has other people in her life that can help her directly right now.)

I decided to mail a care package. It's better than nothing. I can't be there physically. (This pandemic sucks!!!) And she doesn't really want to talk to me about it. Also, if I'm being honest with myself, I don't want to be the person in her life who listens in detail. It's too hard for me. Too lopsided, too off balance. But I can let her know I'm thinking about her and that I love her.

To problem solve, I focused on what was most important to me in the moment: showing my sister my love. As I felt my resentment and anger from past hurts, I acknowledged them. And then I returned to my focus, put on a mask, and went on a quick shopping trip at the nearby drugstore for care package goodies. It was fun.

So I mailed her a bunch of random things with a card (that did NOT say "Everything happens for a reason" or "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger" or any other bullshit platitudes that anyone in pain doesn't need to hear). I sent a fancy chocolate bar, some magazines, some fun Valentine stuff I saw on the shelves, soft fuzzy socks, and a small stuffed animal. I figure everyone likes mail that's not a bill. :)

That's where I'm at. It's hard. I don't like how mean my sister was when I was going through the darkest time of my life, and I also haven't forgotten it. I don't like how my feelings about that resurface when I think about how I can support her while she's going through something awful. But I'm only human.

I love my sister. Feelings, relationships, navigating trauma, and life overall... It's all complicated.

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!

No Special Children in my Life

There are no special children in my life. I hear and read about other people saying how they enjoy being an aunt or having a special relationship with a friend's child. In my experience, that only leads to me getting hurt.

I am an aunt, and I am happy to be an aunt. But my niece and nephew are already grown. When they were children, my older sisters did not include me in their activities together. It was always the four of them: my sisters, my niece, and my nephew. It was never the five of us. In my experience, mothers are very exclusive.

Now my niece and nephew are grown and I do have a good relationship with them, but I am never going to be the person they call to share their good news with. I recently had a milestone birthday and didn't hear from my niece. I heard secondhand that my nephew just moved across the country. It sucks to always feel forgotten. So I keep moving on with my own life, creating joy, meaning, and connections in my own little spot.

When I was married, I was excited to have a chance to be an aunt again. But it was just the same story all over again. My two sisters-in-law would get together with their daughters all of the time for fun outings. I was never invited. At family functions, it almost seemed like they tried to keep their children away from me. After one misunderstanding (my brother-in-law thought I called the police on him for a loud party... uh WHAT, I would never ever do that, not for a party), two of my nieces were no longer allowed to even talk to me. I didn't want to get the girls in trouble with their parents so I kept my distance. To say the least, my ex-in-laws were not nice people and now I never have to see them again.

I thought I would get that special relationship with a friend's daughter. When she called to tell me she was pregnant, I literally screamed with happiness. I was at her baby shower and every single birthday party. Until I wasn't. I think I've written about it before, but nothing hurt me like that instance of being forgotten.

My friend's daughter's sixth birthday was coming up. I had gone to my favorite toy store, one of those kinds that barely exists anymore. Full of stuffed animals, dress up clothes, books, wooden toys, creative games... No commercial characters in sight and hardly any plastic. It was a painful place for me to go except when it made me happy to go there and shop for my friend's daughter. I always had to give myself a budget or else I would've really gone overboard. So I spent some time and carefully selected several different presents to buy. I was excited and went shopping a month before her actual birthday. And then... I saw pictures of the girl's birthday party on social media. I hadn't even been invited. When I looked at the pictures and saw who was in attendance, I quickly realized that everyone at the party was a parent. My friend didn't even think to invite me. I gave one of the presents to a girl I was volunteering with at the time and I threw away the others. I never went to another kid's birthday party again, and I haven't even seen that particular friend in years.

It is not safe for me to get my hopes up and think I am going to have a special relationship with anyone's children. For me, it only leads to pain.

Thank you, infertility, for giving me life's hardest lessons, especially the tough but necessary lessons on maintaining healthy boundaries for myself. I am so unbreakably strong now. Setbacks barely phase me. I have an invincibility that I never asked for. If you ask anyone in my life now, they would probably tell you that I am the happiest, most positive person they know. And it's true. I've earned it.

Insensitive Sister

I have a new nomination for most insensitive social media post. It used to be one of my best friends from high school announcing her pregnancy with "Never Give Up". But now it is my sister. She posted a picture of her daughter (my niece) saying, "This is my daughter... Wish you were all SO lucky!"

I cannot even make this stuff up.

She wishes we all were so lucky??
Well, we wish so too. At least there's one thing we can agree on.

This sister is not known for her sensitivity. Nope. Not at all. But she was the one I was closest to while growing up. We had a really special relationship. And I believe we will always love each other. But it is not my fault, nor is it my responsibility to deal with, the fact that she is insensitive and, quite frankly, MEAN.

The years that I was trying to conceive were the hardest of my life. I don't want to tempt fate, but it is difficult for me to imagine anything harder than not becoming a mother when it was my lifelong dream to be one. Conception, adoption, I really didn't care about the method or process. I just wanted to raise children. But nothing worked out for me and my husband.

And whether or not it was a healthy practice, I wrote down all of the terribly insensitive things people said to me throughout the years. In one way, it was a way to show myself that I wasn't crazy. That not only was I going through something traumatic but I also had absolutely no support.

Now, for the first time in over three years, I am going to revisit those comments. I saved them in an electronic document and threw that document into a folder that I haven't opened since June 2015. I do not want to overwhelm you or me so I will not copy everything that was said to me. But in light of my sister's most recent "Wish you were all so lucky" post, here is is what she told me during the darkest years of my life:

• "You waited too long."
• "Your eggs are too old."
• "If you weren't so uptight, you'd be pregnant by now."
• "Just stop trying. Everyone I know who is trying doesn't get pregnant."
• "Are you sure you want kids?"
• "You won't understand until you have kids."
• "I don't think you could handle having children."
• (And when I confided in her that I was trying IVF) "First world problems." (What does that even mean?? Wait. Don't answer that. Don't even spend your energy thinking about that.)

Look, I'm not going to begin to understand her psychology or what her problems are. I can read all of those comments now and know that they don't come from a healthy person. But when I was in the thick of it, when I was in the middle of trauma and devastation and facing my worst nightmare, every single thing anyone said to me stung. Every single thing a loved one said to me cut me even worse.

Pay no attention to what my sister said to me. She obviously has her own problems. I love my niece very much. And I am also very sad that I didn't get to raise my own children. 

But I share with you what my insensitive sister said to me so that, no matter what hurtful things a loved one has said to you, you know that are not alone.

I stand with you. I stand beside you as your friend. I stand behind you as a support. And I stand in front of you to guide the way, showing you that life is worth living again.

Another Day, Another Insult

I woke up Tuesday morning and as I got ready to go to school I thought, "I wonder how I will be insulted today?" Sad, isn't it? That I've just come to expect it now...

My question was answered within the first hour of class.

We were discussing a research article and a classmate made the observation that the condition being studied was more prevalent in mothers 30 years old and older. The classmate shared, "This makes me nervous because I am getting close to 30." So regardless of what comments, if any, followed my classmate's comment, the fact is she just shared a very personal (and some would even say very private) worry with our class. And what does the professor do? She blasts all of us, effectively shutting everyone down. I saw it happen before my very eyes. Not only that one classmate, but at least a quarter of the class immediately stopped participating in discussion. And then the professor had the gall to tell us that we were "awfully quiet this morning, even more quiet than usual." Wow. Talk about not being able to read a room... Additionally, talk about being a thoughtless and insensitive person... So what was it that the professor said?

The professor (weirdly looking directly at me, more on that later) said:
"It's a major problem when women wait until they're 35 to have their first child."

Seriously.
She said that.
I can't even make this stuff up.

So... Let's unpack this...

• As I said above, my classmate just shared with the class a very personal concern of hers regarding a very sensitive issue and the professor provided no support and instead fueled her fears.
• My professor, who is not a medical doctor, stated her opinion extremely strongly and aggressively even though it was not necessary or even directly related to what we were discussing that day.
• My professor played into the fears that a lot of my classmates have, who are delaying getting pregnant because they are in this graduate program where we have been explicitly instructed not to get pregnant. (That in itself is messed up. I've said it before, but you cannot dictate other people's reproductive timelines.)
• The professor went on to talk about how women are the most fertile in their teens and early 20s and that it wasn't right that so many women "waited." First of all, I would bet a million dollars that this same woman would judge any teen pregnancy HARD. Don't have them too early (irresponsible), but don't have them too late (idiot), am I right? UGH!!!
• Furthermore, does she really think all people CHOOSE to WAIT? Maybe people don't want to have children until they can, oh I don't know, afford food, clothing, and shelter. Not to mention day care, health insurance, a car, car insurance, and everything else that costs money and adds up quick. Maybe some people don't meet their partner that they want to have a family with until they are 30 or 40. Maybe they spent their 20s overcoming an addiction or an eating disorder or cancer. Maybe a million other things that are out of people's control...

SO. MUCH. JUDGMENT.

I was disgusted. Of course, I had a visceral reaction. My body immediately got warm, and, even though her comments and attitude were so outrageous they didn't even warrant a reaction from me, I still got angry. I looked down, took some deep breaths, sent out love to all of my classmates whose fears were just preyed upon, and pictured my husband who has told me repeatedly, "Just don't cuss anyone out. You are almost done with these classes. Those professors are not worth your time or energy."

I said nothing. I am not here to argue with her. I am not here to educate her on the intricacies involved in the wrong assumptions about childlessness. I am here to learn as much as I can for my future profession (which apparently includes experiencing how I do NOT want to treat my future patients). I am here to keep my head down, mouth shut, and graduate. I cannot fix the culture of that terrible place. Not when the professors hold all the power and have no accountability to anyone.

But later I was thinking about how she looked directly at me when she said it. Now I know I can be hypersensitive, maybe even a little paranoid, but I have come a very long way in my recovery. I don't personalize everything anymore. I have lowered my expectations. I know this world doesn't understand my reality and when people say their ignorant comments it is about them and not about me. But I still thought about how she looked right at me. And then later that day while I was exercising, it clicked.

She knows.
She knows I wanted children and she knows I don't have them.
And she is blaming me.

What a terrible, unhappy person.

I put a couple of pieces of information together in my head. I wasn't doing this consciously. I really want to spend as little energy as possible on those professors and that educational institution. I just want to learn the academic material and graduate with my degree. But my subconscious put it all together and the realization just rose to the top.

There was a short essay I wrote first semester. There was an email I sent second semester. There were the innocuous comments I made when participating in class discussions. I have never explicitly stated anything, but, regardless of her negative traits, she is a very smart woman. She connected the dots and you cannot convince me that she doesn't know, at least in vague terms, that my not having children wasn't my choice.

Wow.

And this makes her cruel and evil.

I have nothing to say to her. I have no points to make. I will not change her mind. But what I can do is reach out to my classmates and agree with them that this woman is not a nice person. We are all sticking together to get through what has been an extremely disappointing experience.

I am fine. Don't worry about me. The situation has reached a point of ridiculousness that it's not even hurting my feelings anymore. I've told all of my classmates that if they ever find themselves in a similar situation in a future job that they should just quit. This is not normal; this is not okay.

Have I mentioned that I'm looking forward to finishing my coursework?

I Don't Have Unlimited Resources

I've been waiting for it to happen. It's been awhile so I knew something was coming soon. You know what I mean: hearing a comment that we are all used to. Well, I don't know if we ever get used to them. But we do get used to the idea that they're coming.

"I don't know why she gave up. If she wants to have a kid, she can. There are lots of kids waiting to be adopted."

That's what one of my friends chose to share with me. Her boyfriend said it. Immediately I said, "It's easy to say that when you haven't been in my situation." I was calm, but, honestly, I was so pissed off. Things are so easy to say when you've never had to deal with them yourself. This kid is 25 years old and doesn't even know what he's talking about. I told my friend not to to tell me things like that because it made me hate her boyfriend.

Like I said, it's been awhile since I've had a comment flung my way.

Damn. You want kids. You can't get pregnant. Well, you can always do IVF, right? Or just adopt!

Nothing I can write can convey the anger these thoughts cause me.

Because what the general population doesn't realize is I don't have unlimited resources. I don't have endless money to pursue treatments and adoption. I don't have endless energy. I don't have endless emotional reserves.

I tried until I almost died.

Quite honestly, I wanted to be dead. But what are you gonna do when your lungs are still breathing and your heart is still pumping?

So I've done the best I can. I didn't die and it was up to me to figure out how to live my life. And then someone comes along and says I shouldn't have given up. Who are they to say that? Who are they to judge me? They have no clue what I've been through. They have no clue what it is like to live my life.

So I educated my friend. I told her I tried everything. Without going into details, I told her I tried medical intervention. I tried adoption. I tried relaxing, being patient, and waiting for a fucking miracle. Guess what. Nothing worked. I never got pregnant. I never had a baby. I am not parenting, not in this lifetime.

And then some guy, some kid with no experience, comes along and inserts his opinion into my life?

My friend said she was so sorry for my situation, that she wished she could do something. I took advantage of the opportunity. I told her the way she could help was to educate people when they said incorrect, uninformed things. She could share what all she has learned from me. IVF doesn't always work. Adoption is no guarantee. Everything costs money, not to mention all of the other unquantifiable costs. She said she could and would do that. I hope she starts with her boyfriend.

It was just another reminder of how I live a life that the majority of people don't understand. I'm okay. I've had years of experience at this. This isn't my first month, my first year. It still hurts, stings, and makes me angry. But I find solace in the life that I am creating for myself. Even though I am playing the long game and this last year feels like it's gonna kill me, I know it won't. Nothing has killed me yet.

I am still here.