Stronger?

So in my current struggle with trying to sort things out in my head,

I keep reading my positive affirmations

and there is one that I am currently choking on:

 Infertility made me/us stronger

 

 

I understand that The Barreness wants me to be bitter, and mean and spiteful and vengeful

and as I struggle to not be any of those things, I wonder about the above concept.

Am I really stronger because of it?

Is our relationship really better off, more steady, or more solid?

I read almost daily about couples struggling with IF and how they have parted ways.

The stress, the heartbreak was simply too much to bear.

Does that mean that those couples are failures because they chose to part ways when things got so deep, so thick and so much that they were wedged apart and not able to come back together anymore?

I don't think so.

 

I had a similar conversation with my therapist, when I told her

I didn't believe the phrases:

"whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger"

or

" you are never given more than you can carry"

 

She said she could understand; as there are a lot of shells of people walking this earth.

Although you are not killed by overwhelming circumstances it doesn't mean you are ever really alright after that. Sometimes just functional.

Is that really OK?!

 

Infertility, has been like a cluster bomb; so many projectiles flying from it's central source.

Sometimes I don't discover how far reaching the pieces have flown until years later when I pick a scrap up to remember oh yeah, that is from that bomb.

 

Just this last week I asked my SIL if she was wanting to have a shower for this third child,

and she mentioned that a friend was going to give it for her.

I was hoping for that and was relieved it would not fall on me

I have been looking at baby gifts for her.

It hasn't hurt, it is like a dull more then a pain.

It seems strange, and distant to me...it has been 5years since there was a baby to think about.

My nephews start kindergarten this fall...

So a little someone is an alien concept, but one I am almost looking forward to.

A cathartic element in a way.

A way to literally kiss goodbye all my daydreams, every time I kiss this new person.

 

Does that make me stronger?

Less bitter?

Better? because I am living with a life long sentence of infertility.

I want to try and break free of this quicksand.

I think of it more like a fight or flight kind of thing.

The fight is all gone, there is no point to fight any more....

 

I think what has been handed to us,

well more like, shoved into our faces and lives,

is too much.

 

I can't really remember my life before all this sadness,

I have to look at photos of myself to try and prompt those memories. 

 

I can't see commericals, movies or television with children in them,

 without thinking of the ones we will never have

 

I can't go to any doctor without thinking that something horrible is going to be discovered,

even the dentist

 

I can't go to a park, zoo, store, or even out my front door without

feeling like I am being assaulted with everyone elses fertility.

 

It is nearly impossible to be in conversations with family or friends about children, because I really don't understand their point. I can only imagine what it is like, and then not well at that.

 

Does this make me stronger?

Does this mean I was handed just what I could handle or carry?

 

I am still trying to figure this all out.

Strangely I am not angry or really sad...

I am just sort of here

staring at the sky

 

 

Wordless Wednesday

I love me some good funk, and this is one of the videos wandering around the Internets of

"how to dance to the new Daft Punk album" made my day and made me remember
dancing with the Soul Train dancers Saturday mornings.
Get that booty moving:

Friday

Life has been crazy serious lately in my head, and I just wanted to show you how

 "all over the board I am"
(I ramble in this post, I hope you can keep up)
 

I went out wandering...in a fruitless effort to find a couple summer dresses,

as my current ones are thread bare and several years old....

I have been drooling over some Modcloth dresses, but when I looked at the price, and style

I realized I was picking the same style over and over so

I ended up getting a pattern from Vogue,

that claims to be "easy"
 it has a zipper

I consider that tough, turn blue in the face,cursing level of sewing,

but whatever, maybe my brain will understand the instructions better this time,

or I'll resort to Velcro or staple myself into it out of complete frustration in the end.
 

I have a ton of fabric from my now defunct "children's clothing line"
and thank goodness I was so neurotic, as I collected some seriously cool stuff,
I have all this fabric left over and not enough hours in the day to list them on Etsy,
so I might as well make myself a dress or a skirt or something that resembles those items of clothing.

I am trying to get my funky back.
and a few hours in the day to make a dress....

 

So back to the meaning of this post, I was distracted by sparkle at the local retailer, and had to try on the shoes my mother NEVER let me wear, claiming they would ruin my arches.

Even for "dress up"!
I also think this was her silent feminist response to playing dress up....

So imagine my surprise when she told me I could wear heeled shoes at prom.
 2.5 inches off the ground and I was wobbling around the house like a frigging baby horse
 trying to not break an ankle or as my father referred to it "walk like a truck driver".
 

To this day, I am either barefoot or in sneakers;
anything higher then that is for my mere amusement,

or to feed my inner daredevil/risk taker.
I almost never return home from a heeled evening saying anything

but how much my feet hurt or how I have a blister from the shoes
or how I totally messed up my ankle.
I mostly try, in a vain effort over and over again to be the graceful dancer,
model woman who can walk in shoes higher then the cement.
I have even asked women in stilettos the secret to walking forwards and backwards in the shoes.
They usually just say practice at home....and something about the balls of my feet.
I lost interest after that, because it sounded complex and not like walking.
 

SOOOOO, everytime I see fancy footwear in the store,

I try them on, it is like a grown up rebellion, my version of a repressed dress-up,

you can clearly see my sandals in the pics and my slipping foot inside each shoe.

I did some impressive yoga moves to get this vantage point

 

So here is what they had on sale for $4 each on the super bargain discount shelf:

soooooooooo much glitter and sequins
I was tempted to get them just to source the sequins and glitter off of them!

this one had chicken feathers and a brooch on the toe!
ohh la la
 

Sparkle rhinestones,
all around, and the toes didn't even touch the ground

A little Lady Gaga meets Elton John circa 1972
Gold glitter with spikes around the heel
I like how blingy it is in this picture

 

When all was said and done I left the shoes at the store.
My mother was right, they hurt and made my feet feel funny.
*sigh* 

Fork in the road

image via etsy

 

I am finding that I am slowly remembering a long list of things that will never be.

Like I am in a way saying another goodbye to them.

I am working hard at not being bitter as that is one of my fears.

to create a bitter leftover version of myself

 

I think this latest cycle has been a reminder that I will not carry a child.

Like all the words and years are rushing up on me.

My period use to be a couple days: no biggie, no major shift in my life.

Then I tried to get pregnant and they became these HUGE productions; painful and pointed.

Then 6months ago the surgery, and now they are strange performance art pieces; I never really know what is going on, and what to expect next.

I am still bleeding, even though I have been back on the pill for three days.

I am really along for the ride.

When I was expressing this disappointment to The Barren the the other night,

 telling him I was done bleeding, I wanted to get on with my next 90days,

I had a wave of sympathy for my uterus.

Maybe it is not done doing it's thing, I mean clearly it is...but maybe it is mourning too?!

I said aloud to him, " I know one day sooner then I want it, I will not be bleeding anymore and then I will be sad about that too"

He giggled and said he understood what I meant.

 

I am realizing that I am turning the corner and beyond child-making.

It really isn't gonna magically happen.

 

This made me reflect on all the "positive affirmations" that I have been repeating year after year.

What happens emotionally when you are not gonna get what you wanted.

Not like a toy, or jewelery or cars or houses, or jobs....but a vision of family.

I wonder what those

 feel good, be nice to yourself, believe in miracles, expect the impossibles?

I still collect them, I read them, I try really hard to believe them, wanting to live the words.

I try to not be cynical when I read about others starting their IF journey, knowing that my story doesn't have to be everyones outcome.

What do I do now? How do I start re-building my self identity I mean time is ticking away.

Life is short and have I already spent too much of it hoping against hope?

Waiting and crying and wondering what I could do to make something that would never be happen.

 

My SIL is 6months pregnant with their third child, and as she posts belly growing pics online, and fetus updates, and updates us all on her cravings and aches and pains...

I wonder what does it feel like?

Something so natural, became so unnatural for us...the hippie kids couldn't make a baby?

The teenager could, the IV drug user could, the fighting couple could.

 

I feel that strange sense of numb again, the numb I felt (or didn't feel) when I was slipping into depression, but I am not terribly sad this time. I am not terribly happy either.

I am present, here and now.

Wondering

seeking a new path

a new identity

Not wanting to re-invent myself...but wondering who I really am.

Help Others

image via etsy

 

Below is a list of places you can donate help to others:

 

Central Oklahoma Humane SocietyThe Central Oklahoma Humane Society is in need of towels, paper towels, bleach, gloves and crates to help with lost and injured animals. "Currently our greatest need is financial donations to help us treat and house lost and injured animals at our facilities,"

 

OK Strong Disaster Relief Fund

to help with the long-term medical, emotional and educational needs of victims of the May 20 tornado in Moore and the May 19 tornado near Shawnee: http://www.ok.gov/okstrong/Donation_Information/index.html

 

Direct Relief The Santa Barbara, Calif.-based, non-profit organization provides medical assistance and personal hygiene items to those hurt in disasters, as well as in other circumstances.

 

American Red CrossThe Red Cross has set up shelters in various communities. You can donate to the Red Cross Disaster Relief fund here, and the organization also suggests giving blood at your local hospital or blood bank.

 

Regional Food Bank of OklahomaThe Regional Food Bank of Oklahoma, working with the Oklahoma Voluntary Organizations Active in Disaster, is seeking monetary donations. To donate, visit the regional food bank's website, or give $10 by texting the word FOOD to 32333. 

What now...

Firstly, thank you Stirrup Queens for mentioning my most recent post

(hearts and hugs and love to you)

thank you also to those who have arrived here because of her words

you too are AWESOME!

xoxoxxo

******

 

I was pretty spent once Monday rolled around.

What I neglected to mention was that the weekend prior to Mother's Day I went and got a box of 10 blank cards (in case I decided at the last minute to change my mind and not do this project, I could still use the cards for "real life"), in addition I also got a couple specially selected Mother's day cards for women in my life, my mother and a woman who was about to celebrate mother's day for the first time after 10years of struggling with IF.

I sat down the week before and hand wrote messages in each of them.

I took breaks, but sat there and thought about each woman and found myself imagining what her day would possibly be like. Sounds, smells, and sights.
I am sure I infused a bit of my own fantasies, but hell it was my project I can do what I want.

Yep, even mailed one to that SIL

 

I mailed them off on the Thursday before M.D.

and patted myself on the back,

thinking I might have taken the first step onto a new path.

One that had me beginning this new hope for a self that is more then infertility.
( I am a cautious hoper, I am sure many of us are now)

 

What ended up happening was that I couldn't stop thinking about those cards...
first I wondered if anyone got them
then I wondered if it meant anything to them
then I wondered why they didn't mention to me that they got a card from me
then I got depressed thinking I had spent energy trying to make myself evolve
and instead all I did was push myself back.

Was it worth it, I mean did I do it for the right reasons?
The jury is still out on that one.

In reflection:
Much like my NIAW writing, I am thinking that Mother's Day needs to be reduced in my mind, to something closer to Labor day; a holiday, but no one really knows what to do with it.
For me Mother's day will never be what I though it would be,
but I don't need to take it away from others.

So I am onto other more pressing items on my to-do list.
Step One: decide which direction to head

 

Ostrich

 

I hid this last weekend...

well, I didn't plan to, but hiding under the remote control and a bowl of hummus

ended up feeling like the safest place to be.

 

Let me explain.

I attended my goddaughters first communion, I got a new dress and The Barren and I met her at the church with her parents and family. We had taken godparent classes at this same church 9years ago so we "as non-catholics" could learn the important role we were undertaking.

We take pride in being her back up team...

though we never really were called to service, well so far at least.

I took some photos of our girl, who was mortified at all the attention and parceled out who could take photos with her, and fought the waterfall of tears that were welling in her eyes from people looking at her. She was clearly stressed, but did really well under the circumstances.

Her mom and dad were respectful of her feelings and space and nothing was forced on her.

She went through the paces of the service, even told her older tween sister to "be less grumpy, because I wasn't grumpy on your first communion day". We were proud and watched her and the parade of squirming and fidgety kids line up and take the wafers.

Then when mass was over, but before we all left, the pastor asked all the mothers to rise...

I have read about this situation in many other blogs and I guess because I was in church for a totally different reason I was totally taken off guard.

When they called for all the mothers to rise, it was like a fortress suddenly popped up all around me.

Like these bodies all suddenly formed deep thick walls; I was shaken, physically and began to fight back a swell of tears, I felt so ostracized.

 

 

The Barren noticing this started to touch my back and the tears fell in two streams down my face, I was angry and so hurt. The pastor was blessing these woman, telling them how important they were and how they were special and had magical powers and could fly and make milk and shit rainbows.

I stopped hearing stuff, and instead tried to hide my tears, and curse my suddenly swelling eyelids.

Then I leaned over to The Barren and told him I was leaving out the back door, there were less people in that direction and I wanted to run...fast and far.

Once outside I wanted to tackle the pastor and priests and tell them how they made me feel, and how they had excluded a non-catholic even further! I thought about the "open letter to the pastors" I had read online and wanted to give them a piece of my mind....but on reflection decided this day was not about me, it was about our goddaughter

and I needed to save these tears for a safe place,

this place was not safe.

 

I proceeded to tell The Barren to treat me like I just had an epileptic seizure and

regain normalcy post hast, that it would help me.

We met the others out front and no one was the wiser to my knowledge.

The like magic, our goddaughter walked up to us to thank us for coming and said she would like to take a picture with us, queue internal tears.

We took a photo and moved onto lunch

I had not stepped three paces into the place when our goddaughters Aunt turned to me and said:

" when you posted that thing on facebook about infertility,

I have a friend that says he has a cure for fertility."

I said: "everyone does"

and walked away into the dining room.

I was cooked; I had a drink at lunch, ate greasy noodles and then went home

and hid through Monday morning.

 

No calls on Sunday, no check-ins to friends...just me, the cats and the TV

I look forward to a day when it hurts less or just doesn't appear to be so obvious.

How I sometimes am envious of that ostrich, it can run so fast!

 

B-day hangover

I had a very quiet birthday.

The Barren took me out with the intention of us drinking,
relaxing and hopefully starting a weekend of laughter.
I made reservations for us at a local place that actually makes drinks with alcohol in them,
and the food is alright...
We ended up talking about our infertility most of the night...
he is finding himself in a strange place,
wanting to move on but the constant questions from others makes it hard to.
The drinks allowed us to laugh about lots of things, instead of cry.
 

By my third drink I was pretending to be on a first date with him.

He found this very funny, I thought in my drink induced haze I was being sneaky.

...then I suggested we go for a walk; that idea ended after the fourth step outside

when I realized how heavy my head was,
and the act of balancing it took too much effort
 in combination with walking.

He suggested we drive home,
The Barren took an alternative route and I think he was headed to the beach for a

make-out session with his "date"...but

I had closed my eyes and when I opened them I thought I was being kidnapped

and although I made him laugh, it was clear I was panicked.
Make out session nixed
Instead...

We arrived home to me literally crawling upstairs and falling on the floor,
laughing hysterically at the cats "sitting there judging me"
and collapsing into bed.

2am woke me by slamming a hammer against my skull and

Saturday was a greasy food hangover recovery day.

so, for some a typical birthday,
for me bittersweet,
as I think I was trying to make it all normal.

hangover food: vegetarian version
grilled cheese-raw onions-french fries

 

***

My cake eating party went OK,
a friend received a call just as we were cutting the cake,
that something happened to her fiance who was returning from a weekend trip
and the mood dropped and we dispersed.
Leaving a lot of cake and a gallon of homemade ice cream in the freezer.
(fiance OK, but a member of his adventure passed away)
 

My dear friends planned a "do-over"

I was embarrassed at them wanting to make a fuss, but also deeply touched.
We had sangria and dinner and then I got a gift on top of all that.
It was lovely.

I made these two options for sugar overload, plus cookies...
it was insane of me

My birthdays seem to be evolving into a smaller, quieter gatherings.
I use to have HUGE parties and some little part of me still craves that,
but I am coming to understand as we age it doesn't always work out that way anymore.
I think I am OK with this evolution.

I think I carried a lot of last years memories with me into this birthday.
Reflecting on my mother and father and how radically my relationship has shifted with them.
It was hard to not think of, it was hard to not remember, it was hard to let go of.
My mother and father are "fine", and I struggle daily with not parenting them for two reasons:
1. they are not ready/needing parenting yet
2. I am not ready to be my parents parent.
I have to remember this, well mostly number 1, because I know when the time comes number 2 is something I will never be ready for.

I feel a personal evolution within again too:
I am becoming older, and possibly wiser.
Problem is, I don't want to grow up anymore...

Dream

photo via: animalheadvintage

I had a dream last night that I went to the Doctor for my 6month

after surgery check up and they did an ultrasound

and found I had two babies growing in the wrong space...

one was growing in my tube and the other in my ovary.

I had to have emergency surgery and have them taken.

I was heartbroken and worried, wondering if there was any way to save them.

 

I was searching for the Barren and couldn't find him....

I had my mother with me and I was frightened

that she would not hear what the doctor found

...or that she would keep information from me.

Even after waking I was still frightened

 

That dream was followed by another the following night

that I was searching

for The Barren again; the night sky was filled with bi-planes

 they appeared like larger then life fireflies.

As I was searching I entered a building that was built like the Guggenheim (a spiral)

it was a mall or someplace like it in dream logic

I was entering and exiting the maze of spaces

until I reached an open atrium space

where a baby giraffe was, running in circles in the small space, the keeper

laughing at its fear and panic.

I tried to calm the baby, shh-ing and cooing...but before I could

it collapsed, eyes wide open...stiff and strait as a pole.

 

I am not sure what these dreams mean, or why I felt compelled to write about them...

I know they are full of dream symbols:

1. To dream that a giraffe is running implies that you are avoiding the truth. It also suggests that you saw something that you shouldn't have seen. To see a giraffe in your dream suggests that you need to consider the overall picture. Take a broader view on your life and where it is headed. The dream may also be a metaphor on how you are "sticking your neck out" for someone.
 
2. To see an airplane in your dream indicates that you will overcome your obstacles and rise to a new level of prominence and status. You may experience a higher consciousness, new-found freedom and greater awareness. Perhaps you need to gain a better perspective or wider view on something. If the airplane is taking off, then it suggests that an idea or plan is about to "take off" and be put into action. It may also represent your need to get away and escape from your daily life.
   
    
3. To dream that you are a doctor suggests that there is some problem that you need to patch up or some emotional wound that you need to bandage up. Alternatively, it signifies your ability to offer your support to others.

Ironically, two new giraffes were born at the local zoo...

"April 30, 2013: Congratulations, Betty Lou!

    Betty Lou gave birth April 28 to a healthy calf named Sunshine. She is being an attentive mom, and letting the calf nurse. Sunshine is 6' and 133 lbs. Zookeepers have begun introductions to the rest of the herd, and mother-calf pairs will most likely rotate on and off exhibit. Michael, father to both calves, will remain on exhibit most of the time."