Christmas Cards

There is something about sending and receiving Christmas cards that warms the heart.  I think it is the thought of someone thinking about you.  And I get a little reminiscent and reflect of fond, fun memories of that person, whether writing the card or receiving it.

When I go home at Christmas time, my mom will invite me to look through their card pile.  Sometimes there are pictures or a little note.  Then I usually help my mom to tape them up on the inside of the front door.  It is one way to add to the decorations.

As I was perusing the cards this year, one particular card had a note that did not sit well with me.  Most of the cards were from people that I know, but this one I did not.  There was a question asking if my parents were grandparents yet.  And they continued by saying that having grandchildren is the best thing ever!  It ticked me off.  My first thought was that they must not really know my parents that well.  It felt like salt in the wound, maybe more for my mom and dad.  I felt protective of them and wanted to rip up the card.  But, it was not my card.  So, I put it back in its envelope and did not say anything to my mom.

About a month before that while talking on the phone with my mom, I asked her if she and my dad were disappointed or sad that they weren't grandparents.  My mom quickly and simply said no.  She said no and not to worry about it.  I try not to worry, but the guilt is still there.

Maybe the hopeful comment was more a reflection that if my parents were grandparents, they would be loving, caring ones.

Good Intentions

Easter came early this year.  But in leading up to Lent, I was researching churches in my area to figure out which one I'd like to call my spiritual home.  Bummer that I could not find any with a Sunday evening mass, as I am a fan of sleeping in on the weekends.  It is also seems like a good way to end the day at the start of the week.  It takes a little bit of that Sunday dread away, a remnant from my life from teaching (Yes, teachers can have that same sinking feeling as students as the weekend comes to an end and early Monday morning is waiting.).  I scoured the Internet and FB to glean the vibe of the church and if I would fit into its community.  Then I saved the mass schedules and addresses of the churches on the short list.  My plan was to try them out.  T~ has been supportive in saying that he will attend with me, despite us having different faiths.

Just before Lent was kicking into gear, we got up one Sunday morning and went to church.  The building was a bit more modern for my taste and the priest seemed a little full of himself and a little showy.  However, I liked the vibe of the people who attended the church.  They seemed friendly and kind and it had a welcoming family feel.

But at a second glance, I realized just how many families were present and it felt like a really high ratio.  Granted this was a mass that offered Sunday school, but it still felt like a lot.  I started to feel uncomfortable and sad.  It made me realize how differently I had once imagined my life.  I pictured it with children, which would include taking them to church.  Surrounded by children and families made my heart ache.  Yes, maybe T~ and I may one day have a child.  But, it will likely be one...maybe, maybe two.  But it will not be the brood I had once imagined.  It will not be the same.

And I felt that twinge of one day having a large family die.

How I longed for a simple life and not one with all of these complications postponing these dreams of a family of my own.  How so many take it for granted that it all seems to fall into place.  Why has it worked for them and not for me?  How very far away it all feels to me as more and more people my age have finished building their families.  They are in the thick of it, the exhausting thick of it, and I feel like I am missing out.  I continue to be the outsider looking in and missing the dream that will never be.

I feel small for having these feelings.  I am tired of the heartache.  I am over the reminders of what I don't have.  It is especially difficult when I am trying so hard to be strong, to be grateful and to dream new dreams.

So, unfortunately, I have not returned to church.  I have avoided it.  It is hard to be in a place to renew your soul while it is being crushed.  I feel guilty.  I have to stop feeling sorry for myself, refocus on the positive.  It is hard to let go of a dream.

But, maybe it is time to try again.  Maybe I will try a different church this time.  Maybe I'll try a time that does not include the children's mass.

The other big hurdle is going to be getting our marriage validated by the church.  That is a whole other blob of judgment and possible rejection waiting for me.  Ugh.

August Nightmares

August is the anniversary month of my previous marriage.  Had we stayed together, we would have been together for more years than apart this year.  Funny how the math goes that you can hover so long and so close before reaching that tipping point.  It is like one of those age problems from Alegebra I.  When we were happy, we used to marvel at how much of our life we spent together and acknowledged that we really grew up together having been college sweethearts.  We were young and so much happened during those years.

Then suddenly, he left.

August has been a tough month for me after that part of my life was cleaved away.  The first year was awful...raw.  I was thankful for a kind friend's phone call.  I tend to try not to dwell on specific dates, even if they are etched in your brain.  I am more aware of the general season of those memories as they run in the background of my mind, getting further in the distance.  It has gotten easier over time, especially with wanting to let go...as sad as that is, but neccessary.  This year was the first that the day came and went and consciously it didn't seem to bother me.  The undercurrent of sadness and malaise seemed a scant phantom.

However, I had the most terrible nightmares for a better part of the month.  And he was in most of those dreams, leaving me feeling unrested, upset and feeling used.  In a few of the dreams, I missed him and felt sad.  It was hard to shake the feelings after waking up.  At the time, I didn't connect the dots because the day had passed and I thought I was fine.  But, somewhere deep I am still letting go.

All of the dreams kind of made me worry about my relationship with T~.  I think it is all of the wedding stuff and how people say you only get married once and the person you marry should be your best friend.  Somehow it hurts.  Somehow there is guilt.  I once married a person who I felt was my best friend and intended only to be with him.  (Cue Don't Speak by Gwen Stefani, No Doubt.)  

I feel badly that T~ cannot be my first and only spouse.  I recoil when people make references to us being best friends.  I cringe when he says it.  My visceral reaction sickens me and I feel awful.  I don't want to marry a "best friend," after the last one.  But, would a best friend ever treat you like garbage with so little regard?  Can true friendships implode, deteriorate or devolve in such ugly ways?  Maybe he wasn't a friend in the first place?  Betrayal is so insidious.  It is difficult to believe that someone you loved and whom you thought loved you could actively make such choices.  It wasn't an accident or unintentional.  It was selfish, grossly selfish.  That is the hard part, when trust and respect are broken so horribly.

I know T~ is his own person...a wonderfully loving, kind and intuitive person.  I'm just having difficulty separating the term "best friend" from my past experience.  He either was never really my friend or he was, but then stopped somewhere along the way.

So, I try to reframe it by thinking about children giving each other friendship necklaces, the ones usually divided up into halves.  Kids will often give these kinds of necklaces to more than one person.  It is kind of like you are only supposed to have one best friend, but the secret is that you can have lots of best friends.  It can be flexible due to context and purpose of that friendship.  I think the important part is to let go of "the one and only" part.  It somehow makes it feel like I didn't use up my only shot.  It makes room for more.  It makes room for T~.

Once I put it all together, the dreams stopped and I have been more at ease.  It may or may not look like progress, but to me it is.  I am glad that I am not actively dwelling on that past relationship.  As a friend once told me, the ending of a relationship is like a perspective painting where the road keeps getting smaller and smaller as it meets the horizon.  That road will always be on my map, but that part of my life is near that dot in the distance.  T~ and I are together in the foreground, in the present.  I'm ready and excited about our adventure!

So Many Variables

For much of January, I have been thinking and wondering and worrying...  Am I too old to have a baby of my own?  Are my eggs still good?  Is it selfish of me to want to have a biological child with T~?

And really what each of these questions should add is some form of "a healthy baby."  I am scared because the longer I wait, there is an increased chance there could be complications.  Usually, I am good about regular exercise and healthy eating.  However, my bigger concern is for the potential child.  I am nervous about possible health or developmental issues.  Sure lots of people have had healthy babies later in life.  Will that be me?  I would hope so.

But having been a teacher and now working in the medical field, I have seen more than my share of children with complicated medical or developmental needs.  It takes a lot of work.  And truth be told, I have had multiple parents who have expressed their guilt and confessed to me that they wondered if they had been selfish in having a child later in life.  They have wondered aloud if they brought on these troubles to their child...and stopping short of saying that maybe they should not have tried in the first place.  These are good people and I realize they are sharing these thoughts while under great distress.

Nevertheless, it gives me pause.  At what cost do you try?  Is the risk worth the benefit?  Who is the priority?  It is not all about you.  It is also about that future person you may bring into this world.  At what cost is it to them?  What are you maybe asking them to sacrifice?  Is it fair?

I know in some ways I am getting ahead of myself as T~ and I are still planning our wedding.  But, I can't help it.  I am feeling the pressure of time.  I want to make a responsible choice.  My thoughts waiver.  Should we try for a baby of our own?  Should we adopt?  Can I be happy without children and instead dedicate myself to my career by helping others?  Or should I focus my energies on the people in my extended family and friends?  Lots of questions and lots to think about.

When I start to feel overwhelmed by it, I focus on wedding planning and my life with T~.  It is much more fun.  :)

Watching From the Sidelines

It's not just me who sits on the sidelines...

When my parents came to visit, we all spent a day at the pool.  Growing up, my dad was the big kid joining in the fun with me and my brother, cousins or neighborhood kids in the pool.  I think in part it comes from my dad's youthful, playful spirit.  He would toss us in the air, ending in a splash of giggles and asking him to do it again.  Or he would make big waves in the pool with his long arms.  Or we would shout our requests for him to do cannon balls or jack knives.  In part, I think it comes from him growing up in a family of one in thirteen with a large extended family.  There was always a mix of ages and always children around.  As he grew older, his older siblings started having children, so there had been a pretty steady flow of youth in the family.  And it was fun to play and laugh and enjoy each other.

There was a small group of boys in the pool with their rough and tumble play.  It could have been a scene from my dad's youth with him and his brothers.  Growing up, Dad would have joined in our silly fun for just a moment.  But, these were not his children or nieces or nephews.  Of course, he would not initiate any interaction; it would not be appropriate by any means.  But, I felt like I could see the twinkle in his eye as he smiled and chuckled at the boys on the edge of mischief as he stood along the side of the pool.  There also seemed a kind of hesitation or a faint sadness.  Maybe that is me projecting my feelings of loss. But, these were not even his grandchildren.  If I can't give him one, will he ever get to be in that moment again...to experience the joy of a child that is part of your family, your inner circle and play?  Has the moment passed?  Has it passed for me?  And for him?

Microblog Mondays

A Yellow Jacket

Holidays are tough for me and Mother's Day is coming.  Sometimes I can feel very lonely, whether it is a day spent by myself because my family is far away or if it a day spent in a room full of people--even people I love.  Sometimes holidays can feel like a reminder of what was lost in terms of hopes and dreams--for myself and my parents.  There can be sense of failure.

Last summer before I moved from Pittsburgh, I spent time purging to lighten the load to pack.  Overall, it felt really good and freeing.  There was a bunch of stuff that I gave to my mom to pass along to my goddaughter.  I figured she would appreciate it more than sitting in my closet or on a shelf collecting dust.  It felt good.

Then a few weeks ago my mom forwarded me a picture of my godchild, O~.  She was wearing my yellow spring jacket that I had as a small child.  My mom explained that when my cousins came for Easter, the girls wanted to go outside, but it had grown chilly and O~ didn't bring a coat.  So, my mom went into the closet and found the jacket and offered it to her to wear.  It fit her well and she wore it home.  In fact, she enjoyed the coat so much, my mom said she could keep wearing it.  The picture my mom sent over the phone was of O~ and LJ going for a walk in the woods in a park near their home.

But somehow this picture did not elicit the same feelings of when I gave O~ the Teacher Barbie and children's books.  My heart was sad, and then I felt guilty.  My mom had always said that she saved some of my old clothes because she thought that when I had children that maybe they could wear some of them.  What was once something I imagined would be for my children, was now being worn by someone else's child.  And I cried.  But, I did not let my mom know.  I didn't have the heart to tell her.  She was so excited and happy to share that O~ loved the coat and was so proud to be wearing it.

I mean, I had given pause in the summer when I gave my mom some of my stuff to give to O~, but that stuff didn't seem to have as much meaning.  The children's books were kind of a helpful reduction in the mass of books I had collected for my classroom library.  In fact, I told my mom to share with my cousins that if there were any books that they didn't really like, to just give them away.  The Teacher Barbie was something A~ gave to me as a Christmas present when we were in undergrad together.  I went back and forth on that one.  It spoke to my roots in teaching, but I kept thinking about him when I saw it.  I figured O~ would have more fun playing with it. 

But, what I had held back was a little pearl necklace.  I don't remember how old I was when my parents gave it to me, but I do remember feeling like it was one of my first real pieces of jewelry.  It is a kid's version and not real, but it was close enough as a kid.  I went back and forth.  Why should it just sit in a jewelry box when O~ could probably enjoy it?  But the nagging thought was, what if I have a little girl someday and I want to give it to her?  Would I regret giving it to O~?  If I gave it to her, would that be giving up on my dream of being a mother?  Would I be giving something away in haste and later have regret?

Somehow the yellow jacket had more meaning for me, too.  I think it goes back to how items of clothing can carry so much more meaning for some people.  And even though the jacket was mine as a child, was it mine to give away?  This jacket really belongs to my mom and it is really for her to decide in some ways, I think, maybe.  So if that is the case, what does that mean?  Has my mom given up the dream that I will have a child someday?  Has my mom given up the dream that she will have a grandchild?  I thought that coat was special.  Maybe it doesn't carry as much meaning as I thought it did for my mom?  Or maybe her intent is that O~ can borrow it and then return it when she grows out of it?

I don't know.  I just know that I feel terribly upset about it, and I feel incredibly guilty and selfish for feeling sad about it.  My heart hurts in so many different ways.  And in the picture O~ just looks so happy and like she is having fun wearing the jacket.  How can I feel so sad when it makes O~ and my mom so happy?  At least I know that by my cousin taking a picture of O~ wearing the coat and sending it to my mom she knows it is important, has meaning and will take care of it.

Moments of Mourning

Yesterday was an unexpectedly bad day.  But then, maybe not.  Maybe I've been trying to hold the emotions at bay, or maybe I've been distancing them until I could make sense of them.

Mother's Day is coming and my mind has been on the twins.  They would be three by now.

As I was driving to work, I just could not stop crying.  The tears rolled down my cheeks and I just let them come and wash over me...while on this rare occasion being thankful for the traffic along my way to work that extended my drive to a long 45 minutes.

I hate feeling so sick about Mother's Day.  On top of that, add a layer of guilt.  I will not be spending the day with my mom because she is working all day and lives in a different state.  But my  mom said not to worry because it is like she is getting two Mother's Days this year.  I was with my family last weekend celebrating my sister's college graduation.  (Yea, Kara!)  Then, I will be returning to Cleveland to run in the half-marathon and going to my god daughter's birthday party next weekend.  So, all good family time.  :)

Today was better.  Maybe some of it is out of my system.  I felt frustrated because March came and went without the emotional roller coaster this year.  I took this as a sign of progress.  It is not to say that I don't think about them, but it didn't hurt so much...until yesterday.  I miss and grieve the opportunity to be their mother.  My heart aches and I so want to be a mother.  I know I would be a good mother.  But I just don't only want children.  I want a child to share with a man with whom I love, in a life that we build together...and that would be a blessing because the relationship is the priority.

And I need to be patient with myself.  Grief is a process.  It will always be there, but less each time it surfaces while showing new meaning or taking a different shape.  Feel it, embrace it, honor it and then let it go again and again.

So, I take down those hopes for having a child and put them on another shelf while I continue to reorganize my life.  I need to be able to take care of myself first...have a full-time job.  Then I need to have the space to meet someone special with time to nurture the relationship.  And I go back to the grind of searching and finding that next place in my career.  I've been working really hard and meeting a lot of great people doing great things for children in the hospital and educational fields.  Something has to open up soon.

Bad News

Why is it that with really bad news that I am always really caught off guard? I just found it so silly when my dad called me this morning and just said he was on his way to come and visit. Yesterday Mom said he would call and just see if I was still up for it. But I was eager for him to come, even though I really wanted them both to be here. I was hoping to set up a time for them both to come as I have been feeling a little frustrated that Mom seems to be working so much lately. But now I know.

When Dad first told me about it, I was in shock. Breast cancer was the farthest thing from my mind, especially given all of her other health problems. My first thought was, "Please, God, don't let my mom die."

Dad says it is very treatable and that the doctors consider it to be more like living with a chronic illness. They said it is important to remain positive. I just don't know how to do that right now. I dread my mom having to undergo possible surgery, chemo and radiation. I don't want her to suffer or to be in pain and it is inevitable.

It's not fair. Mom is supposed to do her clinicals this year to get her LPN degree. That looks like it is going to be completely off the table, whether Mom wants to accept that right now or not. She and Dad have seemed to have a stronger and healthier relationship than they have in years. This is going to add a lot of stress on them and their relationship. It makes me feel so very sad and scared. I don't know what to do to help. I don't want my mom to die. I want to be stubborn and not think that that will happen. But I also don't want to see her loose a breast or her hair. She shouldn't have to go through that. And it sucks because it may have been prompted to come about faster because of the Embrel--a drug that had brought her so much relief from her psoriasis. I don't want that to get all out of control now either. It just really, really sucks.

And then there is that selfish part of me--the part that thinks about myself. This is not a good time for me with all that is going on in my life. It is all just another thing that is sucking away my focus on what I need to be doing. I am angry because I want to be there to support my mom, while I am freaked out about how I am going to be able to manage it all.

I wonder what other crappy thing is out there waiting for me with that superstitious everything comes in three's. I found out my ex got remarried, my mom has cancer, and I don't want to stomach what will be next. When and where is that moment of peace? I think that is why I miss last summer so much. And there was another piece of it somewhere around the first of December.