Oh, Who Am I Kidding!

Oh, alright!  So, yes, it does feel like I am settling into a new phase of my life.  Or as referenced in a previous post, that not only does it feel like I am entering a new chapter, but that it is a new part of the story.  It's like the kind of book that reads over a lifetime and it is not only broken down in chapters, but collections of chapters in parts.  That's where I am.

"Maybe Part II is about shoring up my new career, finding work/life balance, living as a single (at the moment), childless (for now) lady, and cultivating the relationships of friends, family and romantic partner with a sensitivity to balance."

However, as much as I would like IF to be out of the picture.  It is not.  It may not be front and center, but it will always be part of me.  And while my blog may focus on more my life and its current status, the IF thing may still pop up from time to time because I will come across things that will bring me pause and come back to it. 

I think my reassessment post was about putting more distance between IF and my current self.  I am also trying to give myself the space to let go and just be me...live with what I have right now in the moment.  Children are not part of this moment, at least in the traditional sense.  I liken what I am experiencing to almost like being on a break, or at least in a sort of parallel way like some of those who experience IF when they "stop trying" for a period of time...whether by choice or not.  Biologically I can most likely still have a child, but I am not in a relationship or place in my life where I am actively trying.  So, that seems to put me in the childless category-ish.  But, that could change depending on how my life unfolds in the next few years.  So, it is not like I am completely letting go of the dream of motherhood. 

In the mean time, for my own sanity and to help myself from feeling like my life is completely on hold, I need to let go and accept my life and where it is right now.  It is a healthy thing.  It is mental shift away from feeling like I am sitting on the sidelines of life.  I am trying to appreciate what I do have in my life in the moment...a really good job, a new home in Florida, boyfriend and family & friends who love me. 

IF, motherhood and babies are falling away to the side.  In many ways it is freeing.  The focus is on me and not what I wish I had.  The dream is not forgotten, but stored away for maybe another time if that space opens up.  That pressure is diminishing.  And it gives me more mental room to enjoy my current priorities.  Not everyone's life is about children.  Children and families are important, but not more important than a childless person's happiness or big events.  As a wise friend said, happy is what you make of it.

Superstitious

I don't like to think of myself as a superstitious kind of person.  But if I am honest with myself, I kind of am.  And I think my experiences with IF have probably amplified it.  Irrational fear?  A willingness to do or to avoid things that you think will influence an outcome?  Unrelated efforts and events, but trying to gain some semblance of control?  Maybe.

As an example, while my former husband and I were looking into adoption, we did not decorate the designated bedroom as a nursery for our one day hoped child .  In fact, we did not put anything inside of it.  The room was completely bare, beige carpet, white walls and an empty closet.  The room remained empty out of fear that if we had decorated the room in preparation for a baby that the baby would never come.  We also did not want to have to look at the constant reminder that our home, our arms and our hearts were feeling empty.  However, the vacant room kind of did that, too, but maybe it felt like it would hurt less...if that could be possible.  In addition, it was an act of defiance in that if we put anything else inside of it, like a spare bed or odds and ends, that the dream would be lost.  We feared that by giving the room another purpose, even if temporary, that the clutter could also chase away the possibility of a baby.  Oh, IF and its paralyzing inaction, whether by choice or not.

So, keeping this illogical, superstitious thought process in mind, it has served as a reason an excuse for not writing the second part in an intended two part post.  I was originally going to write it that same month when I realized that the first post was so long.  Plus, it seemed deserving of telling not just one side of a story, but the layers of stories within one.  Several months passed and it felt like I had waited too long and the posts would be disconnected.  Plus, I had moved and was getting settled in a new city.  So then the next plan was to write it a year later, but other things happened and I was feeling grumpy and felt the need to express those feelings.  My brain was not in a place to give the second part its true attention.  Next, I figured I could tie it into another holiday in June.  But, I was in California and chasing Big Foot and got a little distracted.

Funny thing though, this superstitious behavior has been reinforced yet again!  My friend, Diane, posted something on Facebook about some recent frustrations...got to love the government and all of their paperwork and great organizational skills.  (I'm sorry, is the second half of that sentence dripping with sarcasm?  Oh wait, I'm not sorry.)  After feeling sad and angry for my friend and sending her words of support for something that should hopefully be resolved soon, I had a wave of other emotions.  Yes, these feelings were very me-centered, but at least they came secondary.  These were feelings of nonsensical validation and relief...Aha!  I knew there was a reason why I waited to write that post!  So, I am giving myself permission to wait to write part two and will work on the draft in the mean time.

Have you ever had a post that you had always wanted to write or to finish?  Did it feel like it just kept coming back to you, just needing to be completed?  I think there may be hints of needing closure, but having difficulty facing some underlying feelings, too.  It's the double-edge sword, you know it will be good, but that it may also hurt, too.  And it is okay to feel happy and sad at the same time.  Feelings are not selfish.  They just are.  It is what you do with them that is important.

Reassessment

I've realized that I haven't been typing much on my blog lately.  There have been a couple of posts lingering in the back of my mind that I've been thinking about writing.  But then, there are days that I just don't do it.  I guess this blog had been a place for me to process some of my losses while giving myself some credit in plugging away at rebuilding my life.  But I wonder if that is changing.

I've come to a place where I kind of feel tired of writing about IF and try and do think about it less.  But, I'm also trying to figure out where I fit in the world.  It's a combination of past, present and future selves.

Divorced.
Single. 
Girlfriend. 
IF'er...of the past. 
Childless...at the moment. 
Once a wife. 
Daughter. 
Sister.   
Cousin. 
Friend.
Godmother. 
Teacher. 
Student.
Mobile Therapist.
Maybe married person again someday.
Maybe Mom down the road, if given the chance. 
Lady who works with kids at a hospital...playing, comforting, guiding (a.k.a. Child Life Specialist). 

How do I identify myself?  For myself?  To others...those close within my circle and those on the outside?  Some parts of me are kept a little hidden, not exactly advertising them and wanting to be private.  Some of those parts that are below the surface.   I'd like to keep them there, but sometimes something happens and they come bubbling up, almost screaming in my face.

For instance, lately there is a range in how people respond to my answer to their question if I have any children.  Some say that I still have time.  Others say I had better get serious if I want it to happen.  Then the new wrinkle, that I work with kids so I must not really need or want any of my own.  Some hint that I must be caught up in my career to be concerned with having children.  Are you implying that because I don't have children that my fate has been decided?  Is it assumed I must not want them or it is too late?

Do I really feel like writing about this stuff when I am trying to move on with my life?  But maybe through writing about it, it does help me to pass through the pain and get to the other side?  I want to be living in the moment.  And if I am living in the moment, do I want to spend my time writing about it or just get to the business of living it?

Then I think about work/life balance.  To be honest, work has taken up a huge chunk of my time.  It is to be expected with starting a new career and working at a new hospital.  But, I want my life to be more.  It has to be more.  I love my job and I feel my work is meaningful, it has purpose.  But I have to remember to invest in me.  I'm not going to write about work here.  And since that has been a lot of my life, I sometimes feel I haven't had much to share.

However, another big part of my life has been in developing new friendships, trying to maintain old friendships and enjoying the developing romantic relationship with my boyfriend.

Maybe the maintaining old friendships it is one reason why I have kept up my blog.  I do not want to say good-bye to my friends that I have made from my IF journey.  I have a hard time letting go.  When people are in different phases or chapters in life, it can sometimes be tricky to relate...that part takes work, effort and allowing oneself to step in another person's shoes for a moment to see what is important to them.  Sometimes I am afraid of being left behind.  And starting over in a new place can be slow moving and difficult.  Making friends when you are older is not easy.  People are more established, have their routines, community and priorities.

Do I keep writing?  What do I write?

Life has been work, family, boyfriend and friends (trying to make new ones and hoping to stay connected to old ones).  Family seems to be on hold--they are all so far away.  We call, Facebook and text.  Is it enough?  I'm hoping my move to my new apartment will help give me more flexibility to see them.  But, they are busy and have their priorities, too.  But at least with family, they really understand and can be more forgiving of the distance thing.  They continue to cheer me on from afar, as my heart wishes it could physically be closer.  But, to be fair, there are dear friends who are like family and we can be there for each other even if large chunks of time pass.  Those are the friendships to cherish, a mutual understanding that life gets busy sometimes, but you can pick up right where you left off. 

Well, this post has been a bit of everywhere.  Maybe it is a bit of a window of what I have been mulling over the past several weeks.  What is the purpose of my blog?  Is it changing or is it that with my life going in another direction, so too will my blog?

There have been many chapters since starting my blog.  Maybe Part I is coming to a close, the chapters about grieving the loss of motherhood and my marriage, taking on the adventure of dating and new relationships, being a student and looking for employment.

Maybe Part II is about shoring up my new career, finding work/life balance, living as a single (at the moment), childless (for now) lady, and cultivating the relationships of friends, family and romantic partner with a sensitivity to balance.

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.

Unsuccessfully Resisting the Merk of March

It angers and frustrates me that infertility is a lingering part of me.  I'd like to say it is not.  Any admission that I still think about it from time to time, whether a fleeting passing of grief or a moment that triggers a deeper pain, I just want it behind me.  It does not define who I am, but it has shaped me.  Writing about it is difficult because it is easy to fall into that false belief that I should just be over it--the same kind of thinking that ticks me off from those who do not understand.  It is NIAW, so I will give myself permission to write a few thoughts sans guilt.

Currently, I am personally grappling with the question of finding resolve with infertility and finding resolve with childlessness.  They are not exclusively mutual.  You can have one, the other, both or none.  If I have to be honest with myself, I do not have resolve with the infertility.  I have resolve on shaky ground with a hoped, temporary childlessness.  There is an acceptance that things are on hold and there is still time--to not give up hope--to be okay with not closing that door just yet.  Infertility still hurts me.  Or is it that I still allow it to hurt?  It hurts me less on a daily basis, but getting through March is still really tough.  It is a different animal each year.  I guess I need to truly accept this, to allow room for the emotion, the pain and know it will likely come.

The twins would have been four years old in March of this year.

In a Sleepy Stupor...

I remember noticing T~ coming back to bed.  As I resettled myself and he joined me in bed, the words just rolled out...

I love you.

Still feeling in a fog of being half awake and half asleep, I felt a moment of surprise with the realization of what I had just said.  There was a prolonged pause and he responded with a confused, "Okay?"  My fuzzy brain was not working with my lips and I mumbled something, but do not recall it being anything really understandable.  Was I talking in my sleep again?

No.  I felt it within me.  It just slipped out.  But, it seemed so natural and effortless.  Too tired to put anymore thought into it, I allowed the heaviness of slumber to creep back over me.

The next morning, I heard T~ stirring in his living room.  I tumbled out of bed and joined him by his chair and computer.  Still feeling the need for a morning stretch in the cozy warmth of bed, I returned to the bedroom and flopped into the covers and he followed.  However, he was much more awake than me.

We snuggled up together as I recalled bits of a bizarre dream I had the night before.  Something about wandering around the streets in a city and trying to find my way while following along a lady and a strange animal.  It had the pointed face of a porcupine, but the body of a very skinny, slinky monkey-kind-of-cat creature.  If it was supposed to be a pet or ferel, I am not sure.  It weaved in and out, but at times you could hold its tail like a cane or a leash before it would then try to slip away again.  T~ softly laughed as I wondered aloud if it was a remnant of the Comic Con from last weekend and that his girlfriend must be a little bit of a weirdo.  He said that seemed about right and I would have to be a little weird to be with him.

Then, I waited to see if he would bring it up while still trying to sort out my thoughts.  My heart ached at the possibility that maybe he heard me, but did not feel the same in return.  When he did not mention it, I then lead into something else that seemed a little strange from the previous night.  I asked if he slept alright, and he mentioned having some tossing and turning.  I said that at one point I noticed him coming back to bed and I may have said something. 

T~'s face lit up with a knowing smile.  He said he wondered if he heard me correctly.  He wasn't sure how to acknowledge it, so he asked, "Okay?"  He said I repeated the words, but wondered if I was talking in my sleep or if I really knew what I had said.  T~ stated it was okay that I said it...then with an added pause..if it was true.  His words seemed laced with a vulnerability.

I told him that I have been thinking it for a while, but it just kind of came out last night.  He smiled with his eyes and said that he has been thinking it for a while, as well.  With a shared breath of relief and happiness, we hugged.

Then he looked at me and said in response to what I had said last night...

I love you, too.

Removing Relationship Hurts In Earnest

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." ~ Ernest Hemingway

So, as I am entering the beginning of a new relationship, I have been putting in some effort thinking about how to clear out some of my emotional baggage--the possible roadblocks that could bring challenges into this relationship.  In someways this is unavoidable because your past is part of what makes you who you are in the present.  It has nothing to do with them.  But alas, it is the present partner that is left to deal with the other's past hurts, especially if unresolved.  My hope is that a mature approach will win.

Please know that things are going well and it is still early in my present relationship.  We are in a great place where it still feels new and in that cozy space of looking forward to getting to know each other more.  It is a special time to be romantically giddy, to drink in its innocence and to just be.

However, I was recently reminded of how past hurts can quickly resurface when I had an internal knee jerk reaction to a question from a coworker.  It was a request to help watch her dogs while she went to the beach for part of the weekend.  It really was kind of her to think of me since she thought my guy was out of town for the weekend.  But, she had mixed up the weekends and it was last weekend that he was away.  So, the plans my guy and I had were still in tact. 

My momentary panic was because in my two significant relationships, both men had, in different ways, made plans without me and I felt really hurt.  Not cool to apply for a job two hours away and not tell me, and not cool to plan a vacation for yourself and tell me a few days before leaving for it.  In hindsight, they were both running.

But, I have to give myself some credit for not getting ahead of myself, nor misdirecting these feelings of rejection.  I told myself, "Stop.  This is not (fill in name of previous arse)."  Remaining composed and not jumping to conclusions, the misunderstanding quickly resolved itself.  Whew!

What was left was my lurking concern of past hurts that may be trouble ahead for me.  Trust is clearly an issue.  I know this.  It is not the first time I have wondered if I will be able to find resolve in my issues of trusting a man.  Not being sure where to go with rebuilding that trust, I have just sat on the thought.

Then, I came across a dating article online with quotes of wisdom for meaningful love.  I clicked on the link feeling slightly pessimistic that the quotes would be predictable fru fru stuff.  However, Ernest Hemingway's words stayed with me.  It seems to go along a similar pathway with that of forgiveness.  First you have to want it in your heart, then over time it will happen.  It is about taking that risk again.  Trust, much like love, is an action and it is something you choose to do everyday, every moment.

So, it seems the simplest answer to my question of trust is to just to do it.

Tiny Invitation

Today I had dinner at my cousins' house.  S~ and S~ have a nine-month-old daughter who is as cute as a button.  However, H~ takes a lot of time to warm up to people, so I have not had the opportunity to hold her.  Poor kid has had to deal with reflux, milk allergies and colic.  Not an easy start to life.  But, she is doing much better. 

To my pleasant surprise, H~ smiled at me when I first came into the living room.  She is at the creeping stage and was holding onto my cousin's hands and walking round the house.  S~ said H~ is constantly moving and much happier when she can move freely out and about. 

After dinner, we went outside to the front yard and mingled with the neighbors, which seemed like a fairly common routine.  People gathered, set up chairs and chatted as several kids weaved in and out of the driveways on their bikes.  H~ was alternating between a push toy and walking around with S~ and S~.

As I was sitting on the ground in the driveway, H~ came walking over to me holding S~'s hand.  Then, she reached out her tiny hand to me and I took it.  Standing up, I joined S~ as H~ lead us around the driveway in wobbly zigzags.  After a few passes around the driveway circling the group sitting in chairs, she meandered to the push toy again with her mom.  I rejoined the group of adults and listened to the conversation.

After a short time, H~ returned to where I was sitting.  This time she held both hands out to me with a smile as she caught her breath in the breeze.  I picked her up and lifted her up a few times.  It was the first time I really got to hold her.  She seemed ready to go, so I took both of her hands to go for another walk.  She was picking up the pace and then held on with just one hand.  It was a mix of the warm sun, just before dipping down for a more pronounced sunset, and cool, gusty air.  As we paced the walk, my curls bounced in the breeze and H~'s wisps floated under the weight of her clip.  Faster and faster she went as she transitioned back to one hand on the push toy and the other in my hand, especially on the incline down the drive.  Little by little she wanted to do more on her own and I could sense her increasing bravery.  She then held the handle with two hands, and I quickly followed behind her keeping my hands hovering near her waist.  Smiles and giggles as she cruised to her mom.

It was a sweet moment and a welcomed gift.  It was brief, but felt like it was filling an infinite space within that moment.  Reminding me of kite flying with Little Bear in her grandmother's garden, I became aware of being present and taking in the joy.

How I have often wondered what it would be like or if I would have the opportunity to hold a tiny, trusting hand of one who is exploring her developing mobile freedoms and expanding the parameters of the world around her.  When I dreamed of motherhood, that was the kind of thing I imagined.

I Heart Nerds

I have a tendency to date nerds.  I find myself attracted to men with nerd qualities or guys with a little bit of nerd folded somewhere in there.  I can't help it.  Of course, there is quite the variety of nerd out there, so it really isn't all that difficult to stumble into one.

When I moved to Orlando, I originally wrote this guy off for several reasons.  One, he shares a name with a previous man in my past.  Two, I work with him at the hospital, but not very directly.  And three, he is a Detroit Red Wings fan.

That being said, my guard was down.  As we got to talking here and there, I started to notice we had some shared interests.  He is funny, kind and passionate about his work.  He is the kind of person who goes the extra mile to help others and is a peacemaker type.  He carries with him a certain confidence in his work and grounding in himself.

As we saw each other at some social gatherings for work, conversation was just flowing and natural.  I often find myself smiling when I am with him or as I walk away.  A couple of months ago he asked me out on a date.  We have been taking it slowly and keeping it professional at work.  I think we have found a good balance to allow for a certain amount of privacy to allow things to develop and see where they may go.

He is a self-proclaimed king of the nerds.  He is a veracious reader, has done some theater, bakes, plays video games, hikes, does a little writing and plays board games.  Can't wait to check out the Harry Potter stuff at Universal with him!  He was a manager of a comic book store for about five or six years after being a chemist for a couple of years.  In his words, he wanted more than a job.  He loved his job at the comic book store, and said it was a lot of fun.  But, he wanted a career and after some self-reflection, decided to go to nursing school.  He says it was the best thing for him, and he is very satisfied in his work as a nurse.  He is great at what he does.  He is an interesting combination of nerd, and certainly fulfills my preference for a little something quirky while being smart, funny and emotionally in tune with himself and others. 

The Sting of Longing

The other day, another one of my coworkers asked me if I had any children.

Then later, as I was carrying a baby doll with a medical play preparation kit down the hall, someone remarked how natural I looked carrying the baby.

My heart broke a little bit...

with a combination of old, dull hurts and a seemingly semi-silly longing.

And I wonder if I am getting better at hiding it.

It has been suggested that I take it as a compliment and that people only mean well.  But it still doesn't take away the initial sting.  It takes a conscious effort to pause, breathe and mentally let it pass as it is replaced by a drifting, distant sadness where I try to feign normalcy.