Dimly through a glass

Well hello again, friend! To pick up where my last post left off, I ended up going to the camp event last weekend, after all.  I just have this crazy thing in me that won't let me not do things that I know I'd otherwise want to do, were it not for IF or anxiety etc. I guess it's a good thing, but it's not an easy thing. I also spent some time with other friends and with my family.

Niece and auntie - hope our faces don't freeze like this! 

Chef W, my fabulous nephew - talented and thoughtful! He knows I hate olives!
And he wouldn't let anyone eat any of this til I got there! Ha! 

So I went to camp - and guess what? I'd love to tell you that it was all perfectly perfect and that I never once felt the weight of the lonely, barren outsider as I'd feared I would -  but that would be a lie. It's okay though - it is just part of the story.

When I drove into camp and pulled into my parking spot, someone came up - someone I've known since 1984, who is also on the 60th anniversary planning committee that planned this event. I wasn't even out of my car when he came up to my car and said, "Hey Heather - you're ruining the per car average." I looked at him questioningly and he said, "Everyone else has several people in the car and you have only one - what's with that? You're ruining our per car average."

I'd also like to tell you that I just laughed that off, knowing he wasn't really intending to hurt me or point out what a barren failure of a woman I am, even though that's how it felt as my heart plummeted down to my polka dot flip flops.

Maybe laughing it off would not have been the right thing, anyhow... I don't know. I'm not the only one in the world who would have a single car. I'm so blessed with my R, who was working and couldn't come, but others are single and so very wish they had a spouse and children to bring, themselves...  it was a thoughtless thing to say, though certainly not intended to be cruel. It's the kind of thing that makes people feel really bad - even when they laugh it off.

I told him calmly that this was the very reason I almost didn't go to the event... that I was worried that it was just me one, when the event was so family oriented. I know he didn't get it - I could tell. Later I found out he told the camp associate director that I "bit his head off" for just saying a little joke. The associate director, O, is his cousin and my good, long time friend, so O asked me about it and asked if I'd been serious. I told him that while I had not bit off the guy's head, I was serious - and I explained that my whole heart and soul would have loved nothing more than to have kids and introduce them to camp. To have them meet the place and the people I've so long treasured. To experience the fun and the joy, to learn and to grow...  and that I almost didn't come because it's so hard to not have that - especially at an event that was so celebrating the families and the generations of camp. He didn't say much, but I know him and I know he got it. He incorporates these things. He's like R that way - few words, but very thoughtful.

When I read the blog post about the event a few days ago, I noticed that they thanked all the "families and individuals" who came to camp that day to celebrate. I'm not totally sure, but I'm pretty sure that "and individuals" would not have been there were it not for my conversation with O.

Words are such a funny thing. They can build up and they can tear down - and we say them all the time. They're almost as common as breathing. We all make mistakes and are clumsy sometimes - grace is so important when we are the recipient of thoughtless or cruel words. As those who say words though, we can't all fret about every thing we say...  we couldn't ever speak from fear, if that were so. Still, this guy's response was to think I was crazy and then go tell someone else that I bit his head off. Not cool. Thankfully the someone else is cool, in this case.

Still, I can't help but feel that saying something was the right thing for me to do - even though he was not open to understanding. That's okay - I can't control that, but I think the lesson is to be open to feedback and to try to understand others, if we stumble into something... and probably to not instead go tell others your head was bitten off.  And to forgive, when we are the recipient - and to not assume the worst of them. We are all sometimes the givers and sometimes the receivers of thoughtless words - it's just part of being a human in community.  I'm glad that maybe something good came of this episode though. It's not easy, you know, being vulnerable so often.

Anyhow, so that was an interesting beginning to it, but I'm glad I went. Camp gives me a continued opportunity to feed into the lives of children, even if from afar through prayer and support. I'm so grateful for that, no matter how I long for it to be more.

I posted a bit about that on Facebook - my last comment, I mean, not the details of the car side remark - and about my observations of the day. Afterward, someone privately messaged me and told me that she wants me to know she's sending her little girl (and the girl's best friend is coming too) to camp this summer. To my camp! She said that a very large factor in her decision making was all that I have shared with her personally and through Facebook about camp... She said she knows how much it's meant to me and all that it's given me and she would love that for her daughter. I about fainted with delight! I hope and pray that her daughter and friend will have a wonderful, fun, safe, and blessed time at camp! What a ranch!!

Amen!

 So yeah - all in all, the camp event was good, though exhausting as there were loads of children there and most of my friends had their's along, of course. It was wonderful to catch up a bit and hang out with such dear people!  We rode on the pontoon  - scarily enough, the same pontoon as when I worked there - and it barely ran back then! Ha! Praise God for duct tape! We also sang songs, hung at the beach, chapel, and campfire...  it was nice!

I also really appreciated the friend who'd acknowledged (unprompted in any way by me) that she thought that it might be a tough day for me to be there, and she was glad I'd decided to come.  How nice! We didn't need to discuss it, but it was nice to be acknowledged with just a few simple, kind words.

One last thing, another sweet friend came over in the afternoon with her sweet fella and their sweet newborn. I'd met the fella before, but the newborn is pretty newly born. This friend was the one who had the shower I would have gone to in Milwaukee if I could have, which I posted about a couple times ago. Scheduling issues prevented that, but it was wonderful to be able to actually meet him. It was the first time I've actually held a baby in many years now.

The last time I held a baby, it was because someone put her in my arms without asking, and then started rubbing the baby's arms on my face saying, "See, get that sweet baby juju all over you - that's what you need, Heathie. You need to hold more babies and get their juju on you. You'll get pregnant for sure now." I won't comment further about those comments. but they were memorable to say the least.

Anyhow, so that was the last time holding a little baby - as opposed to my little toddler friend in Utila, who I didn't meet as a little baby. It's generally been too painful to really think about and I don't want people saying things about juju - ever again - so I have mostly tried to avoid newborns to the extent possible. But I'm glad to have spent some time with this little guy. He is very sweet and snugly and it was good! It was a blessing to hold him for a while and spend time with my friends, his parents. My friend is so grateful and happy for her miracle blessing - and tired. And I am grateful and happy with her - and tired.

Thanks, E - love you!!

Yes - it's true - I am beyond blessed. I'm blessed far more than I could ever even pretend to deserve. Though it is all part of my story and all can be used for good, I do pray that my gratitude would always outshine my grief. It is so hard and so strange to completely and intensely miss what you've never had - those little hands you've never held, those hugs you'll never know... the hopes and the dreams that are not meant to be. I wonder if they'd have loved camp, as I do. It would have been okay if they didn't - as long as they were happy, I wouldn't have minded. Ohh dear - I love our children that only might have been - so very much.

Hmm. Wonder if I need some strong meds.....

For now we see through a glass, dimly; but then face to face:
now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
(1 Corinthians 13:12)

♡ HJ

Mostly...

Ah - yes, it seems so much has happened since I last wrote.  Let's see, we went to Utila for two weeks. And then there were two rounds of lay-offs at my work, one of which in particular hits me very - very - hard. (VERY hard!)

This photo of me going through the first customs check point about sums up how I've been feeling lately.

Besides those two biggie things, I also survived another childless mother's day, bocce league season started, R's daughter announced she's getting married, I had R for three wonderful weekends in a row, and we bought night stands. (I've always used TV tables for night stands before, so this was pretty exciting.)

So yeah - all in all, kind of a lot has been happening: some lovely and some awful.

I wondered today when will life stop bringing difficulties - can't we just get the lovely?

Then I remembered, it won't. Not this side of Heaven, anyhow. It's part of the deal in this fallen world.

I rather wish it would though, as it's exhausting - but I guess we seize the magical moments when they come and learn to be satisfied in them, and derive much needed refreshment. Ohhh yes! I'm so grateful for the lovely!

Speaking of lovely: camp... I've mentioned my camp many times. There's an event there this coming weekend. I've been adamant about not going, though I probably will. It's odd to me how much I don't want to go, as I'm crazy for going to anything for camp! A lot of my friends are coming to this one, apparently. They and their families. They're all so excited about bringing their families and hanging out with each others' families... almost all of them have multiple kiddies and this particular camp event is indeed very family oriented. As for me, I feel, as I almost always do, the outsider. I keep having dreams how my dearest friends hate me now. And I know I'm not fun anymore. Why would they even want me there - me, the big old ugly bag of mostly water. (Sorry, that's a Star Trek reference that always cracks me up. Besides, I'm mostly Diet Pepsi, anyhow...) Anyhow, it's true - what shall I do? Play paintball?  Please!

Yet this is camp. CAMP!!! We're talking camp and some of my oldest and dearest.

Infertility is trying to steal this too from me. And I want to give in. I have good excuses: it's a six-hour drive, work is so crazy, I've been gone a lot lately, I don't want to spend more money...  I can think of more. The truth: infertility wants to steal it from me. I just don't feel like I have the fight in me anymore. Can't I just give in for once?

Grief and goodness and heartbreak and mercy

I've meant to write a hundred times since I last wrote. The time has gone fast - largely filled with ongoing plague and a trip to Boston and lots of work - with very stressful changes at work - and preparing for Utila. It's funny to me sometimes how things just keep moving forward, when it feels like you (I, anyhow) never really do. As for my plague, it may be somewhat at its final stages - I hope. I feel that Utila will cure me the rest of the way. It's been a tough run this season.

Also, there have been a thousand babies born since I last wrote - just in my life alone. Okay, maybe closer to 6 - but it's all the same to me. Happy for them, sad for me. It's all the work ones that are the hardest because I have to stay 'on' - always.

Still, I was going to go to the baby shower I mentioned last time, but I just couldn't - I knew I'd have to do work this weekend and there's just so much going on that I couldn't pull a Milwaukee run this weekend. Wish I could have! It would have been my first baby shower in so many years, but I would want my first back to be someone I genuinely love, as this one tomorrow would be - not just a colleague. Just the thought of showers traumatizes me, but it would be worth the inevitable pain to be able to celebrate with a friend I care for. It's actually been quite a long time since I've been invited to a shower by someone I really care for. Often one is just left off the list, when people know that you're IF. I'm so grateful that this friend invited me!! And wishing we lived in the age of transporters, then I could have done all I needed to do today - and still made it there tomorrow.

It's funny to realize how long we've been "trying," as they say. Of course with IF, trying has whole new meaning. I realize it most of all when I realize how old the children of my fellow IF warriors are. Or when I see how many of my fellow IF warriors are on their second or third children. As are many others who'd asked me for advice early on, who started after us and worried they might have trouble too - but now they're on seconds and thirds and school age and what not. They all move forward, I do not. I guess I do in my own way, but it's not the way I'd hoped. It's just kind of weird, is all.

We're not even talking about all the children I've known who have their own children now. I really want to swear right now, just thinking of it... Full disclosure: I just swore in my head. I won't write it though. These are the (many) times I feel so old and and defective. I wish this were a passing thing, but I am old and defective - and oh so heartbroken.

That said, last week I saw a biological sign that seemed encouraging in a reproductive way. I'm such an idiot. How can my hope for this remain? Barely, but it only took one little sign to light it back up. Hmm. Okay, well - moving on....

We went to Boston for my Ma-in-Law's 80th birthday two weekends ago! She's lovely and the events of the weekend were lovely!

80th - really? 

It was a treasure, without a doubt! Still, I found myself once again flabbergasted when an old friend of the family, someone I'd never met before, asked me if we had children - and when I said that we did not, without missing a beat she said, "Why not?" Ummm. Becauses it's not of your business....

But of course instead I just got a bit freaky, as usual (why - oh WHY - do people say these things). This time at least I said - eventually, anyhow - that I wish we did. She, as most people do when faced with some such answer, just said "Oh" and moved on.  What the what?

This in the midst of seeing up close how so many of the children in the family - the nieces and nephew and great nieces and nephews - have their own children. It's hard to see. None are married, they're so young, and yet have multiple children. By and large, I'd say they're loving parents and wonderful young people. Yet I don't understand it. This life hurts so much.

Ahh, but there was so much loveliness! We even scored a bunch of old photos! I long for baby R photos - still haven't found baby ones, but this...

"Sistah!" and brother - pouring over some old albums - and a cutie photo bomber!  It kinda made my weekend when, at the end, cutie photo bomber came back to me for a second (non-obligatory) hug and said she was going to miss me so much! I didn't expect that!) 

...led to this:

Apparently the heart wants what the heart wants - and for my dearest, the heart wants hats!! 

Is that amazing, or what? That photo of my hat-wearin' man was taken one month after he came to the U.S.! He's adorable!!!! (Not a surprise - he still is!) This is a treasure and would be worth a million episodes of pink eye!!! And I don't say this lightly.

It was so wonderful seeing R connecting with his ma and siblings, of course!  I always love that, but also with friends he grew up with but hasn't seen in 35 years! That was so special!  He is so special! I'm the luckiest - most blessed - woman in the world!

The party was full of so many hugs and so much love!

Plus, you know that a party is full of lots of good, old friends when you hear someone utter, "Remember that time he accidentally ate a roach!" followed by gales of laughter!

Brothers!

By the way, it was not my husband who ate the roach - just want to set the record straight there...

There really were a lot of good stories to be told.

Uncle and me. 

A wonderful time was had by all!

Ma and her boys! 

The ride home didn't go well though.... It included pink eye times two (never had that before), worsened bronchitis, and a serious panic attack on the plane. Believe it or not, I've never had a panic attack on a plane before... this plane was the size of a pencil case! After a very trying day of aforementioned ailments, compounded by an hour on the tarmac - thus eliminating layover time - I got on that plane and saw that it was merely an aluminum pencil case and freaked out. I started hyperventilating and crying. It was bad. I was kind of noticed...  when there's that many people in a pencil box, it's hard to not notice the hyperventilating, crying one who keeps asking, "Why is it so small, why is it so small?"

Why can I not be a normal person?  It sometimes occurs to me that maybe it's good I can't procreate. Why bring more of this level of crazy in the world.

Course then I watch the news and see that parents kill their children for insurance money, or just because they don't give a flying fig about anyone but themselves, and I think maybe I wouldn't be the worst parent ever.

But this is life. It's the hand I've been dealt. And I'll keep playing it. It's just not always (ever) pretty, I guess.

Speaking of not pretty -- I'm not winking... this was the early sign of pink eye. I just didn't know it yet. Ugh! 

Legit panic attack in action, and all, I walked forward onto that pencil box anyhow. I found our seats anyhow. I buckled myself in anyhow... I didn't try to run off.  Granted, I also scavenged my purse for the Xanax - but that was after buckling in.

Keep on keeping on.

"Surely Goodness and Mercy will Follow me all the days of my Life, and I will Dwell in the House of the Lord forever."  Psalm 23 is what I meditate on at take-off - the whole Psalm. Yet I struggle with the "Shall not be in want" part, as - well, it's clear that I am in want. Oh how I want!!

Yet I am not in need. And I know I will be okay. I am okay. It just hurts so much too. There's so much grief. Yet so much goodness and mercy. There are no easy answers. This is what I know. Grief and heartache --- goodness and mercy. The scale seems balanced. It's not what I want. But... somehow I'm also not IN want. And, well, I can live with it.

Lovely ladies. Little Z's expression kind of mirrors how I often feel, I think - it's kinda perfect, really! 

No wise fish goes anywhere without a porpoise...

I very recently saw a sign in a sub shop that really gave me pause. The sign asserted that the only real measure of success is the way your kids describe you when they're talking to a friend. Great...  Guess I should lower my expectations, since I won't be able to experience true success. (Eye roll!)

For the record, I agree with it in principle - it's just that it's another example of the fertility-centric world that can be so isolating. Most people have kids if they want - I get that, but one doesn't expect to have that jolt of isolation and sadness in the sub shop. Good things subs are so delicious! (Turkey, bacon, tomaters, and hot peppers - gahhhh!)

It was funny to see the sign though, especially the timing of it as I'd been thinking a lot about purpose lately. Then on Sunday, the sermon was actually about purpose too; about thinking through developing a purpose statement of sorts - one that defines the what and the what-for.

For many people a major part of their purpose is raising children. I thought that would be a major part of mine, as well. Not the only part, but an important part.

When I think about my purpose though, I can start to feel a tad panicky. That is probably because thinking too hard about such things can put the focus too much on oneself - and that is sure fire way to cause some panic. Still, when kept in perspective - and a more eternal perspective - I think it's a good exercise to think through what is most important in life, to prioritize and bring focus into our short lives.

It's really hard for me to define though... When I think about how I'd want others to remember me after I'm gone, it all seems so vague.

In the meantime, a colleague of mine has been going through a major personal difficulty/transition and she only told me her situation the other day - though I'd known about it previously through no fault of my own...  (Office gossip = UGH!!)  So I was listening to her and then just letting her know that I understand how hard it is to come in every day when you're hurting so much and that she's doing a great job, even if she doesn't feel as if she is. Then out of the blue, she tells me that I've been so inspirational to her. Say again?

She's known of our situation for quite some time. Though we're not close, we've had a few moments here and there over the many years as colleagues, so she's known - and has shown empathy. So now she was telling me that though she never comments on my Facebook posts or such, that she always reads them and really appreciates how open and positive I am, despite the depth of difficulty and pain all these years.

Wow. That kinda blew me away. It's not the first time something like that has happened, but it's always surprising - and I really didn't expect it whispered from her, right there in the middle of the department.

I was happy and touched by it though. I may not yet know what I'm going to be when I grow up, or what I'm here for, but if whatever I've been through can serve someone else, even in a totally different situation, then that is a very good thing. I'll never consider this IF/childlessness a gift, but I'm grateful for whatever good can come of it.

Methinks perhaps He truly does make every thing beautiful in its time. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)  Even if it does seem a bit hazy in the meantime.

Something sprung, alright!

"The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring." (Bern Williams)

It has been gorgeous here these last several days. I was able to get some patio time in today and yesterday - in the middle of March!! Wow - loving it!!

Well - unto blog writing. I've been trying to write another post for the last couple weeks, but my brain has not been very quiet - until it's time for it to be. Then it goes blank. I'm sitting in a different place than I normally do, right now - trying to bring some focus to my varied thoughts of late, So here goes! 

Okay, so one thing I've been puzzled by lately is the subject of childless mothers. I don't mean people who are working on becoming mothers - or who seem like they should be mothers. See, I found this blogger, who is also childless after infertility, and much of what she says so completely resonates with me. It feels wonderful to think someone gets it. However, lately all she seems to be writing about is how she's a mother anyhow... and she has guest bloggers who've written posts about being mothers despite their childlessness. I kind of feel that this is hooey!  

Honestly, I don't get this "I'm a mother" jazz...  I'm not, and I have to deal with that. I can love the children in my life - and I think you know how I adore my niblings - and I can nurture in many different ways, but I'm not a mother. It feels delusional to me. It's disappointing. 

Or maybe I'm just not that developed... maybe I'm missing something. Seems to me it's best to make the best of our reality - and give it to God. 

So now it seems this blogger just wants to talk about how she is a mother anyhow - along with selling some health product and promoting her second book. Sigh.  

It makes me start to wonder if IF resulting in childlessness makes people completely batty. 

Hmm. I wonder if I've had enough exposure to battiness in my life that perhaps I'm immune?

Ah well. Also, there is so much pregnancy around me again that it's almost ridiculous. It's impossible to try to forget one's situation when that's pretty much what all the talk is at work. Work shmerk! Let's talk about reproduction non-stop and walk around patting our ginormous beach ball bellies in Heather's face. Sorry, but it does feel like that.  

I still have to slip away during all the social events because all any of them want to talk about is the pregnancies and the babies and/or when their kids were young.  It happens at the beginning and end of meetings too, but I usually can't slip out of those....   ARGGHHHH!!!  So much fertility and baby and toddlerdom. It almost seems statistically impossible that there is as much as there is around me, but you know what they say about statistics: 89% of them are completely made up. 

So, of course I've avoided all workplace baby showers for years. I absolutely have to avoid them - contribute a bit of my cash, then find some excuse to not be there.... In fairness, none of them are for people I'm close with - and there's no reason to ruin it for them and torture myself. I'm supposed to have my game face on in the office - and never show a negative emotion - after all, so - it's one or the other.

However, I'm contemplating going to my first baby shower in many years - it is not for an office person. It's also out of state and may not even be feasible - but - it's literally the very first one I've actually considered going to in many years now. I'm finding myself somewhat proud of myself for even being able to consider it. That's gotta be some kind of progress, right?

Yeah, my future's so bright, I gotta wear shades!  

Well, I have no idea what the future holds, of course, but this much I know for sure:

Through many dangers, toils and snares,

I have already come;

’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,

And grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me,

His Word my hope secures;

He will my Shield and Portion be,

As long as life endures.

Well, I actually rambled quite a few other things into this post, but I pulled them out and saved them for upcoming posts. It seems it was good for me to move to a different location and just let loose. 

As always, thank you my lovely and cherished readers for being there on the other side of my screen, caring about my ramblings. 

With love, 

HJ

My love

“I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you

Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

And the salmon sing in the street”

(W.H. Auden)

HEY TOOTS!

Okay, so I am to value my body for what I can do, rather than despising it for what I can't, huh?  Yes, I wish to be a better steward of the good and lovely gifts God has given me, and enjoy what I have and can do - even as I grieve my losses.

That's nice, but....

Yeah,Toots - what'll it be?  

What does this new philosophy mean - how do I make such a change and live it out?  Well, that's something I've been pondering a bit this last week or so. Finding an answer was thwarted a bit by the realization of something else that my body can't do lately: go two seconds without coughing violently and/or vomiting. Ahhh, the plague!  

Well, I'm on the mend, but still moving slowly. I have a really big week ahead at work, so hopefully I'll be feeling closer to well again tomorrow. 

Still, in the few blissful days between when I wrote my last post and when I contracted the plague, I did determine that as a good foundation to live out this healthier philosophy of good stewardship, it would be a good idea to start sleeping better. Sleep rarely comes easily for me - never has. 

So, sleep - yes, that is my beginning, and the beginning is a very good place to start. After all, when you read you begin with A- B- C (A- B-C!), when you sing you begin with do- re-mi (do-re-mi!)... So when you want to get going on a healthier path, you begin with z-z-z (z-z-z!) 

Toward this end, I started taking a melatonin before bed. I've taken melatonin before, but never consistently because I'm not very fond of having to take anything more than necessary, but sleep has long been a problem for me and I do think it's the foundation for a healthy life. It's hard to do much else, if you aren't getting your zzzzzzs. 

The other thing that is hard to do well without is breathing. Chronic allergy/sinus issues make that a bit tricky, especially at bed time when it all seems to get worse - on top of already having sleeping issues. 

Sooooo, the second step is to actually use the prescription nasal spray that my doctor prescribes me. Melatonin is cheap (like me!) and very gentle, but $30 a month for the nasal spray - ugh! It seems so ridiculous, but then again, what's the value of breathing right, right?  A dollar a day to breathe more normally isn't too unreasonable... but then again-again, it can't help reminding me of all the people who breathe normally for free, which can't help reminding me of all the people who actually get pregnant and carry their babies for free...  and that leads me down a naughty little rabbit trail, so I'll just start my dollar a day snorting habit and try to just enjoy the benefits.

These are my first commitments, and I will strive be consistent with them. It should be a good foundation. 

But first: plague be gone!!!!  

Thanks for the love and support, my friends!  

♥

The cans and can'ts

Value your body for what you can do, rather than despising it for what you can't.

That came to me as a bit of an epiphany this week. It's been so hard to forgive myself for what I can't do... It felt like I was finally making some slight progress, when I got hit with the inability to donate that I talked about in my last post (many weeks ago) - then I just sank back into the mire. And now I'm in the midst of my billionth round of just short of everyone around me being pregnant again - five in my department alone. Ahh.

Somehow it feels appropriate to alternate between punishing myself and numbing myself, but I've come to acknowledge that there's really nothing okay about either of those and I need to stop it.

For the purposes of an assessment, here are the main things my body can't do that I wish it could do:

• Create and carry our child
• Nurture and love our child
• Donate bone marrow
• Easily lose weight
• Burst into flight
• Make others burst into flames at will

And here are some cool the things my body can do:

• Laugh hysterically
• Smile 
• See beauty everywhere
• Listen 
• Speak and share
• Write out what's in my heart
• Love my husband fully
• Hug 
• Touch and feel
• Kiss
• Swim in the sea - other places too, but I sure adore the sea!
• Wear flip flops
• Feel sunshine
• Make funny faces with my niblings
• Smell lilacs - and a lot of other loveliness
• Knead dough
• Cook delicious food
• Eat delicious food
• Read wonderful stories 

Those really are some cool things!

No matter how grateful I am, they'll never make the sad things I can't do go away in the least - the sad things are pretty major, after all - but I just can't choose to hate a body that can let me experience so much wonder. I have to forgive and make peace.

So, forward.

Darling R has been encouraging me to write again, and I know it does help, so I'll try to get back in the swing of it.

Hello darkness, you're not my friend

I haven't written now in just short of forever.  Okay, maybe a little over a month or so isn't anywhere near forever, but this particular six weeks or so feels like forever. I've often struggled with why I write anyhow. Does it matter at all?  Then again, what does?  I haven't written.  I haven't photographed.  I'm really just getting by.

The darkness - ohh, the darkness. The darkness is the worst. The winter, the snow, and the cold - it all came early. The holidays are upon us.  All of these things make for a more dismal me.  I used to love the holidays, before IF and childlessness - but not anymore.

All of this makes life so much harder.

And then life got harder still.

See, I was called as a potential donor for someone. I dropped everything to respond. I don't have many potential matches in the registry, so I know they wouldn't have either. I always wondered if I'd be brave enough to go through with it if ever called. When I got the call, there was no doubt that I would do anything - anything - to help this person if I truly did match her.

Then the shoe drops.

Because of some repercussions of my infertility experience, I can't donate. They won't let me. I've been deferred. For my own good.  I've been removed from the registry.  I begged for them to change it, to let me - I don't care about risk to me. I would do anything to help her.

It seems I'm not handling this very well. Just when I thought I couldn't break any further, a few more pieces have shattered to smithereens.

For a while I thought maybe some good could come from me after all. And it's a plus for a donor to have not had any pregnancies, so it briefly felt like maybe there was some good from this horrendous nightmare, at least.

Instead, I'm still childless - and I also can't help this woman, who is fighting for her life.

I feel like I just can't breathe anymore.  I can't get past this. I can't stop caring what happens to this woman, who my own uselessness and failure prevents me from helping.

And so in this darkest of the seasons, the darkness inside me grows still more oppressive. I want to find rest, I believe in the peace that passes all understanding - but all I want is to be numb. Numbness is not the answer, but I feel things too deeply I think. There's something wrong with more than just my reproductive system - there's something really wrong with my heart and my brain.

Yet I walk around still and laugh and talk and do my work, but the moment I'm alone again all I can do is gasp for breath whilst the tears flow. It's all I can do to just make it through the days. I finally got the big promotion at work and you know what?  I don't care a whit. It's not what I really want. It's just a nice little consolation prize.  Dear R is so proud of me though, so very proud... but all I want to do is run away with him to some remote island and forget about life.

Dear R has also been having to listen to the self-hatred that is now just so great it sometimes bubbles up out of me. I try to keep it inside, but it can't always stay there.  He doesn't deserve that. He hates it - hates hearing insults about the woman he so adores. I know that I need to get back into a therapist because I can't keep doing this to him. The man who the only things he'd do differently would be to marry me sooner and take me to Utila sooner!! He says this already knowing what a nightmare I am, what a broken down mess. I'll never understand why he loves me so.

So yeah, I know I need to find a therapist to talk to, to try to work through this. I don't feel like it, but I can't keep doing this to R - and honestly, I just can't live like this anyhow. I'm completely wrecked. So now I'm trying to find someone who can help me see truth, who accepts our insurance, and who works near me because I'm just not going to drive across the metro for appointments - especially in the darkness and cold, and so I need to set myself up for some measure of success in that at least. Just getting through each day without any public breakdowns has taken all my energy, of late.

And so there you have it.

The price of love

Now

It's occurred to me that perhaps I should let my hair grow back out so I never have to go back to the hair salon. Seems like a good reason, right.  It would save me money, after all, since keeping a short style requires frequenting the salon every four to six weeks. (I used to go to the salon about once every 18 months.)

Anyhow, I like it short and think it suits me, but I always dread going to the salon. It's the questions they ask and the jibber jabber that I so dislike.  The worst was last time, when the lady repeatedly insisted I had two kids, a boy and a girl - and I had to repeatedly insist back that I don't and that no I never told her that.

Then I sat there like a lump trying not to cry through the whole hair cut because that's how ridiculous I am. So this afternoon, I went ahead and made myself sick just thinking about it again - even though I wasn't even going to go back to her again. After all, who knows what crazy thing someone will say to me next?  I wish these things didn't bother me so. But then I wish oh so many things.

On the bright side, I do like my hair, and the worst the lady today said was, "So... like, tell me about your hair."   To which I replied, "Well, um... I don't know - I've had it about 43 years, it grows out of my head, and um... I need it trimmed up." Okay, I didn't really say that, but I was thinking it.

Tell me about your hair....   Brother Bob!

Week 38 of Photo 52: Eyes

Anyhow, after that I kept my eyes fixed solidly on Words With Friends to lessen the possibility of difficult questions.

For some reason it's the hair and dental appointments that are the worst. The questions and comments without means of escape. Then again... why can't I just get up and walk away?  I don't know.  I wondered about that after the appointment with the woman who repeatedly insisted I have children, despite my protests - I could have just left. It might have seemed weird or rude, but I wasn't actually trapped. I often feel trapped. Maybe if it happens again, I'll have the strength to just not torture myself.

Ah well. This is the way it is. Hair appointments cause me tremendous nausea inducing anxiety. I wanted my hair to be pretty before our anniversary tomorrow though, and I'd gone way too long in between appointments because of my dread.

It's okay though. It is.

Then tonight I read a blog post about grief and infertility, "The Loneliness of Grief."  It feels so good to be got.

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming.  All we can do is learn to swim.”                 (Vicki Harrison)

And this:

“Grief never ends… But it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith… It is the price of love.”

The price of love.

Tomorrow R and I turn nine years old and we will celebrate the amazing blessing of marriage love, as we look forward to - hopefully - many more years of happily ever after together. Every morning when I awake, I wonder more and more about this amazingness that has been gifted to me. I am so thankful. With that comes the growing loss of knowing how very much we wanted to have kiddies. Oh so very much.

Indeed, this tremendous grief is the price of tremendous love.

It truly is overwhelming so much of the time, as if the waves are pulling me under and I just keep struggling and struggling for air and solid ground. It felt like that again this afternoon, but no one at work knew, of course. I've gotten good at making sure they don't. As the blogger writes, "And the hardest thing about grieving, the absolute worst thing, is that it feels as though everyone wants you to forget." Fortunately, R does not make me feel that way - my cutie - but it largely does feel that way otherwise.

The loneliness of grief. The price of love.

Even so...  I'll never - ever - regret the tremendous love. Tomorrow, we will celebrate all of our tremendous love: the good, the bad, and the ugly. It's all part of the story of us.

And then!
October 14, 2005