Awkward Introduction

Yesterday I went to orientation for my new job. 

Different people from different departments came to tell us about different policies and procedures. The facilities person talked about safety. The payroll person talked about payroll. The benefits person talked about benefits. Etc. It was a little boring, but it was fine. The organization provided lunch. There weren't many of us new hires. All in all, it was pretty uneventful.

Until HR came to talk about HR stuff. 

The guy came in the room, sat down, and introduced himself by saying how many kids he had.

Oh.

That's what had been missing all day. I hadn't heard anyone talk about their children. How funny that it was a guy that was the one to do so. Anyway, so he went on about his kids, their ages, blah blah blah. It was easy to tune him out. 

Maybe I'm sounding callous, but he didn't say anything about himself. He only defined himself through his children. It's just a limited way of thinking. Ok, maybe I sound judgmental. I admittedly have very little patience when someone I just meet talks only about their children.

Then he turned to the rest of us. Asked us to introduce ourselves. But he didn't let us guide our own introductions. He asked us questions individually. He asked us if we had children. 

What in the world...

He got to the woman next to me and asked where she was from and what her job was going to be. He asked if she had any kids. She smiled, said yes, and listed off the ages of her sons.

Then he turned to me. The first thing he asked was, "Do you have any family?" I could have easily said that, yes, I moved here with my boyfriend and that we are very happy here. But I didn't want to give him that. So I just answered his question the best I knew how.

Him: "Do you have any family?"

Me: "Yes... I have parents."

(pause, a little awkward)

Me: "And sisters..."

(slightly longer pause,
a little more awkward)

Him: "Do you have any kids?"

Me: "No."

(much longer pause,
definitely
feeling
awkward)

I didn't say anything else. No explanation. No elaboration.

He didn't say anything either. He seemed uncomfortable. He moved on.

I thought about how far I'd come. I thought about how his questions would have made me sad in the past, how they would have made me mad just a year or two ago, and how I found them absurdly funny in the moment.

Hahahaha.

I am so thankful for my progress in recovery.
I am so dang thankful for my healing.

One Month Later

One month ago I wrote that 2021 had me feeling depressed without much to look forward to. The pandemic sucked, unemployment was stressful, and I was still working hard to create a life I wanted to live after surviving infertility without my children. I was worn out. Tired. Disappointed.

One month ago I felt depleted but was trying to remind myself that I wouldn't feel this way forever.
(It's my favorite coping strategy.)

One month ago I felt unsettled... Unmoored... Anchorless...
Almost directionless. Rootless for sure.

One month later... And so much has changed. Most relieving, I am fully vaccinated!!! I won't be changing my behavior any time soon. I'll still be wearing a mask when I run errands. I am going to keep avoiding crowds. But the mental relief that I feel... It's indescribable. But it also comes with a side of guilt. We still have so far to go in getting the rest of the world vaccinated.

One month later... And I've received a job offer! Today I went to orientation to learn about policies and procedures. It wasn't exactly thrilling, but I am thankful that I'm on track to resume meaningful employment again. I'd like to say that maybe I will retire from this job, but I'm going to stop saying that. I don't know what the future holds. But maybe I will make it through the probationary period haha. Maybe I won't quit. Or move. 

One month later... And I'm under contract to buy a house. Um, what?! That's the most unexpected thing of all. I wasn't even looking. Buying a house was not on my radar screen. But I saw a house online that was affordable (yes, affordable!) with two bathrooms (I really want two bathrooms), a carport (yay, covered parking), and a nice backyard. I KNEW it wouldn't last long. So I went and looked at it and put in an offer. The next day my offer was accepted. 

So... We will see... Anything could happen. But things are looking good... And now, instead of constantly daydreaming about fabric and everything I want to sew (quilts! clothes! bags! stuffed animals!), I am now constantly daydreaming about fabric and everything I want to sew AND this new (old) house that might become my home!!! Wow.

I Mailed a Mother's Day Card

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

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

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

But I digress...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plus, I just really like pizza. :)

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.

A Functional LIVING Room

The small things in life really are the big things. The more I practice cultivating gratitude for the little things throughout my day, the happier and more content I find myself to be. Like Mali wrote recently, "appreciating the little things [has] enabled me to see that life was going to be okay."

Currently, I am beyond thankful. I am ecstatic! 

I have a functional living room for the first time in many years.

While I was waiting for my children to come, that's all I was doing: waiting. I didn't decorate the living room much or have people over. I didn't create any art or read any books. I just sat in my recliner and read fertility boards and then infertility blogs.

After I sold my children's house and moved into a rental near my grad school, all I did was eat, sleep, and study. And drink. I'll be honest. I drank a lot during that time period. There wasn't a whole lot of living going on in my living room. At least I had my dog to keep me company. (My husband at the time was always at work or the bar.)

Then I moved out of state and into an apartment. It was a nice apartment and had a living room, but the living room was also the kitchen and where my desk was while I was finishing up school. So it was pretty packed. Plus, the apartment was in a city where I knew I wasn't staying so I knew it was all temporary.

Last year I lived in a condo where the living room was tiny. There was room for my couch and recliner but not much else. I couldn't stretch out or enjoy the space. It was too cramped.

Then this past summer, when my boyfriend and I moved into our current rental house, we experienced the most physically demanding move of our lives. I don't wish to relive it, but it involved making two trips to our new town four hours away to load and unload the rental truck just the two of us. During the heat of the summer. During the pandemic when numbers were high. It was awful. Not only was it anxiety-provoking, our backs were sore for a couple of months. Then winter came. I had zero desire to move my heavy couch while my back still hurt, nor did I want to move it while there was ice on the ground. So my couch sat in the garage for ten months...

Until... Last weekend! We finally moved the couch inside. I also ordered a tv stand and a lamp for reading and sewing on the couch. I hung up a painting of my grandmother's, two embroidered pieces from my other grandmother, and we purchased two paintings we love from the thrift store. 

Folks, I have a functional living room!!!

We have a couch and a recliner with a tv tray and a lamp in between in them. We have a tv set up on a new tv stand. We have artwork hung on the walls and a basket overflowing with quilts. And there's still room to stretch out on the floor.

We are so happy.

Last night we watched a movie on tv and my boyfriend surprised me with a pizza party. He ordered pizza without me knowing, so when there was a knock on the door I was a little confused. He answered the door and brought in pizza, breadsticks, and soda. It. Was. Awesome. And so much fun!

After dinner, I sat on the couch and finished hand sewing the binding onto the quilt that I will donate. It's my 11th quilt that I've completed from start to finish. 

I am so happy. 

It feels so good to be more than alive; it feels so good to be truly living.

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.

Not Today

Most days I am okay with my situation. Most days I can cope with losing my dreams of motherhood. Most days I can enjoy the life I DO have. But today is not one of those days.

Like the rest of us, I am hitting a new level of pandemic fatigue. I am tired and angry and completely emotionally depleted. So it was especially upsetting to be included on a group text yesterday with my mom and sisters about their travel plans. Yes, travel plans. One of my sisters is having out of town guests because they are all going to a wedding this weekend. On the following weekend, she will travel across the country to visit her son. This is the same sister that regularly eats in restaurants. But both of my sisters and my mom have traveled over the last year.

???

Then I woke up this morning to my mother replying to the group text that she forgot she had made plans to go visit one of her sisters in another state for one of her sister's grandkids' baby shower. WHAT.

I'm sorry everyone. I truly apologize.
If my family has anything to do with it, this pandemic will never end.

But let's revisit that baby shower thing very briefly.

Again, WHAT.

Traveling out of state? In a pandemic? To attend a baby shower? For my cousin's kid's baby? He's old enough to have a baby on the way?? Well, damn, I guess he is...

I burst into tears. No surprise there.

But the tears weren't about him having a child on the way per se. Although, considering his situation, that is slightly tragic all on its own...

The tears were about the never-ending thoughtlessness of my family. The fact that this information was so casually mentioned in a group text message without regard for my feelings at all really hurt me. 

They will never get it. My family will never understand what surviving infertility is like for me. Not only that, they will never even make an effort to understand. And that hurts.

So that's where I am today. I cried twice before it was even 7:00 am. I'm so sick of this. I'm so sick of everything. It's days like this where I wish I could be babied. It's embarrassing to say, but I wish I could just crawl into some comforting person's lap and have them rub my back while I cried. 

Instead, I logged on here to read what others have written. You all are my people. You all understand. You all make me feel seen, heard, valued, and less alone. Thank you.

I know this day will pass. I know these feelings will pass as well. But, for today, I think I will do only what I feel like. I will read, nap, watch tv, and quilt. Today I will be especially mindful to take it easy and to take care of myself. No one else can do it for me.