Time after time

 ICE is in my town

I can hear the helicopters daily

My neighbors are all on edge, and terrorized.

There are trucks chasing down people, ripping them from their families at school drop offs or at work places. They come in unmarked cars, with people spilling out of them some in uniforms, some not. 

They are terrorizing the local farms, greenhouses and field workers. My area grows strawberries, celery, broccoli, avocados that not only feed our county, but the state and the nation.

I am forever wounded from what I have seen broadcast across community protection live-streams, help your neighbor, film what you see, encourage them to be silent and not allow entry.

One of my senators was handcuffed for trying to ask a question yesterday.

I am immunocompromised and exhausted, but today I am printing postcards that will be addressed and handed out at the protest tomorrow, in hopes to get more people to contact their representatives; write their rage to the white house and supreme court.

These most recent days have re-awakened a level of generational trauma I didn't know I carried.

I have planted food, I have touched earth, I have sat in contemplation and I am so deeply enraged.

I will not make excuses or ask for forgiveness for it.

I am shouting and screaming and fighting in any way I can.

My neighbors deserve better, children deserve better, the world deserves better.

Mouth guard

shirt credit

With the combination of the election and the fire and mudslide

I was fitted with a mouth guard that I wear at night

because I am grinding my teeth at night.

So badly, I chipped a tooth.

I have been wearing it every night, but have made a point 

as of late, to wear it even more 

religiously.

I am furious, I can feel it in every bone and oozing from every pore.

I have never been so ashamed to be an american.

The amount of sexism, racism, xenophobia, and blatant hate is inexcusable!

The government in place is a total embarrassment.

The old white men have had too much power and all this bullshit

has carried over into what might be a liar elected into the SCOTUS.

I watched Dr. Ford give her testimony, and I watched Brett cry and scream his.

I watched too much....

I have since turned off the news 100%

I vote and thankfully am in a state where my representatives feel the same way I do about 

Brett and women'r rights, health and immigration and take the time to answer the phones when I call in and thank them for supporting or voting against things that are brought up. 

I have had emails answered and these women do not run away from their constituents

they listen and respond.

Like responsible representatives.

That being said

after watching Dr.Ford, I experienced for the first time a true whole body trigger.

I remembered my assaults with great details.

I told The Barren for the first time, in our 26 years together, 

about the first one when I was about 8 years old.

Only my parents and my therapist(who was treating my grief from infertility) know about it, 

and they never mention it.

My father told me( at 8 years old) after hearing and seeing who did it that 

" I had an active imagination, and that this never happened"

So I buried it deep

Angry and confused as to why he chose to not believe me

I also told The Barren about another one that happened 

when I was a teenager, that no one knew about...

except me and the people involved.

He was deeply shook, and super supportive about being brave enough to tell him.

He knows about my sexual harassment incidents

 from workplaces that have happened since...

Dr.Ford made me remember

She made me strong enough to share my story 

she reminded me that these situations are not me, I am stronger and bigger than them.

They are nothing to be ashamed of

and nothing I did and nothing I need to carry responsibility for 

I think I will keep wearing my pride 

and wearing my mouth guard until this world is turned right side up again.

the future is female

Time marches on

Source

Ducklings in paper dresses....lets start here.

Okay

I have been wanting to write here.

I just got back from a weekend visit with my bestie.

We live several hundred miles apart and so visiting often is quite involved.

This time, we made arrangements a month+ ahead of time 

and I got an AirBnB 

and had The Barren take an extra day off to recover from the travel time.

When we arrived we hit the ground running.

My bestie talked my ear off <3 p="">

She was sooooooooo excited to see me that she just kept talking and talking and talking....

It was great and exhausting.

I ate like a queen, 

and covered The Barren in kisses of appreciation 

for making and supporting the time away.

The Barren was recovering/processing of sorts, 

from a sudden and unexpected death of a coworker.
This time together was needed.

We spent the time away talking and being quiet and just being.

Bestie has a child, who we are close with and who is the most well adjusted 

young person I have ever known.

He is an only child and has been treated as a human from day one 

and it is reflected in his mood and demeanor.

The Barren and I are listed as caregivers should something horrible happen to his parents.

He was able to choose, and we were happy to be those people for him.

So it is all legal and stuff...

He is growing up fast and has landed firmly into tweenhood

Time marches on

I got this photo in my email today:

"do you recognize the blanket"

I made that blanket for her older brother as a baby shower gift.

It was a reminder of how far down this road I have traveled.

How long ago I was making blankets for friends babies, and wishing for my own.

Like a moving meditation, make a blanket, earn more points to me getting a baby of my own.

The above child was conceived while I was having miscarriages and I threw her mother a shower, thinking I could still do it all. 

Once this little lady was born, I told her mom (who I've known since we were 14yrs old)

that I could not be what she needed of me...

she has respected that and we send hellos every once in a while.

Time marches on

Then today I also got an email asking if someone could use an image from my Infertility Art Exhibition....this exhibition was 6 years ago and I am still getting requests for image use.

AMAZING

time marches on

Here I am three weeks away from my first miscarriage anniversary and I am getting reminders of how long ago we left the path for parenthood but also how far we have traveled.
Time marches on

Thankful Thursday

Yesterday I continued a tradition that was started many many many years ago

 and went almost forgotten until recently.

I introduced my niece to yoga.

My Aunt introduced me to her yoga practice many moons ago when I was 10 years old.

I mostly remember falling asleep on the living room floor.

That gently blossomed into me finding yoga again in college and then 

practicing in Nepal and then again before I was married

and as a newlywed.

Then it fell away until three years ago and now I don't think I will forsake it again.

I introduced my nephew first...we do yoga (a few poses) when he spends the night, 

before he plays video games and when we go for exploration walks.

Yesterday as part of my nieces "graduation to Jr. High" school gift, 

we attended a class together.

She is 12 and now old enough to attend a level 1 class with an adult.

(I was that adult, hahaha)

I picked her up and asked if she was excited about it or nervous.

She said she was both, I told her I was too, so we could be beginners together.

We arrived early so we could get her signed into class.

She signed the forms in big round letters that spelt out her first name

 and only the first initial for her last name,

thus beginning her week of free yoga.

I showed her the locker room 

(part of my plan was to introduce her to a locker room before starting Jr High school)

I gave her a tour of the changing area,I showed her where the hair bands were, the q-tips and lotions. I pointed out that there were tampons on the backside of the toilet, in case someone got their period.

Hairdryers and kleenex all for use.

She picked out our locker, we stored our clean clothes for after class and headed to the studio to wait for the class to begin.

We chatted a little before the teacher showed up and watched all the other people arrive into class.

She followed along, exploring the quiet moments, and watching me for pose ques.

It was surreal for me...this little girl was becoming a teenager before my vary eyes.

We compared how sweaty we got...smiled at each other and did yoga!

After class, she was in a good mood and we headed back to the locker room.

There were women in various states of undress...

I told her I was going to take a shower, and asked if she wanted to as well...

she opted out (which I expected) and I gave her the key to the locker and told her which shower I was in and to meet back at the locker when she was done changing. 

She changed in a toilet stall.

I only freaked out a little when the locker room got really quiet when I was rinsing off...and I wanted to call out her name to see if she was still there...but decided that I was going to treat her like a grown up and let her be. 

She was on the bench next to the locker on her ipod when I walked over from the shower.

I got dressed and asked what she was doing and if she felt okay after class.

We thanked the teacher after class and walked to get her a smoothie....

As we were returning to the car I turned and saw this...

I had my camera on the wrong setting, but you get the idea:

It is happening!

Laughter in funny places

I was in line at Target the other day and could hear a kid 

in COMPLETE meltdown mode.

Kicking, screaming... crying

Mom, trying to finish her tasks had the kid in the cart and was in 

the self check out line.

She was doing the "don't give the situation attention, it will only make it worse" technique

The result, was the little girl screaming and kicking in the cart the whole time

while mom and older sister finished their much needed tasks.

I was in a parallel line, choosing to be away from the sounds.

But....while in line I found myself laughing.

Out loud and carefree....

The couple in front of me, the cashier and the lady behind me looked at me for a reason.

I said " I am laughing because I am thankful I do not have to deal with that today.

One less drama for ME, YEAH"

At that everyone agreed and nodded and giggled to themselves.

The woman behind me said, 

" When I had my kids, that kind of thing was not allowed"

I said to her " sometimes people have bad days, clearly that little lady is having one. She is learning how to deal with it. I feel for mom, as clearly she is just trying to finish what she came her for..."

The older woman didn't really know how to react...

maybe she wasn't able to grasp the fact that a kid might have a bad day, 

and being uneducated on how to deal with the feeling, went strait to tantrum.

I completed my purchase, and left, hearing the crying fade as I left out the front doors.

It felt like I was choosing happy over drama.

But later I wondered...

Was I lacking empathy?

Was I gloating?

Politics, babies and my body

I'm here....

that latest round of colds, flus and colds hit this house hard....

and aside from some morning nausea I am back to "normal"

Politics:

I am so fired up about maintaining my rights; the rights of  my nieces and nephews,

 that I re-registered so that I could vote in the primary here in the States.

I was registered with a party that would only allow me to vote party line.

I needed to change that.

I am so upset, and frustrated with the casual misogyny, hate speak, fear mongering and general shit talk that I chose to not sit idyll and instead do what I could to make changes.

 I normally don't talk politics and this is as far as I will go...

I am mad as hell and I am not going to take it any longer

Babies:

I have two baby gifts in read to be packed up, as more people are preggers.

I would say I am pretty unfazed by it, but in all honesty, I haven't been around them while they are blossoming. What I did have a physical reaction to was a casual mention of an impromptu baby shower for a fellow artist...I felt my stomach clench and then race through the monologue of 

"I don't do baby showers, I am happy to send a gift but I am not going to attend"

I decided that, that event has WAY too many triggers for me and so I choose to avoid them....

like the boogie man!

My body:

I stumbled on this project and there is a whole section on fertility, here is one with a statement about the portrait subject:

WHAT I BE PROJECT

As mentioned before, I am floating farther away from my sole identity as an infertile woman.

It is bittersweet...but I think a natural progression with age and peace. 

I have recently purchased a vintage photograph of a child.

It resonated in me when I saw it. 

So I bought it, and when it arrived I matted and framed it and added it to my personal altar. 

I allows me to see a manifestation of a child that makes me feel happy.

Like a moment from a daydream captured.

It has settled something in me.

How can I....

So my brother (The Earl) asked me if I knew anyone who had inoculated their kids with Gardasil.

My heart started racing....

He then followed it with that his wife (The Countess) did not want to give it to their daughter....my niece!

She had seen that a girl got sick after the shot and now has totally shut down to the idea of giving my niece the shot. The Earl is researching online and asking people he knows.

I am being as neutral as possible, 

but inside I am SCREAMING! 

and wanting to slap some sense into The Countess or The Earl.

I have asked my granola friends, and my conservative friends, 

I have asked doctor friends and total strangers...and forwarded their responses to The Earl.

All of which have chosen to protect their sons and daughters from

 either transmitting or contracting HPV

It seems totally logical to me 

and being someone who had more than one cancer scare

knows people who have HPV and had cervical cancer

I don't seem to see the logic in avoiding any kind of protections

from this horrible disease that can ultimately KILL you!

I have stayed mum with my personal opinion 

as I know that I might get the "it is not your child" 

thrown back in my face during a heated and or emotional moment.

I don't think they are avoiding it because they can not imagine her being sexually active, 

but instead are simply scared of vaccinations.

Mind you they have gotten all the others....

What can I do

How can I speak or advocate for my nieces and nephews

without getting slapped?

Should I expect a slap...and just deal with it?

Should I risk my relationship with my SIL and brother...

Sign

How can I help?

New Years Eve

I have been focusing on this concept.

In many facets of my life.

I think it is natural to want to assess the year as it winds out, 

I do it on my birthday too...the marker of time and accomplishments.

New years is always somewhat sad for me...I get really melancholy for some reason.

In reflecting on eve's gone by, I realize that I was always sort of sad...

maybe it is really the quiet that is reflection...and not sadness at all.

I have found that in these last few weeks I have been consciously letting go.

In petty arguments

in petty goals (no this has to go here....)

 in what I think I am right about, or wrong about 

There is a sweetness to letting go.

I feel less heavy in those moments, when I realize I am making a choice to be better

or more aware or less concerned.

When shit hit the fan many years ago, I sought help after feeling like I was falling into an abyss...

My therapist once played back my recording when I was looking for someone to help me

" Hi I just found out I can't have kids and I need help dealing with this. 

I feel lost and dark. Are you accepting new patients?"

Damn...that was raw and brave! Even in the face of the fire breathing Barreness, I stood there with my shield held high enough to not get charbroiled, and instead call for help.

In those dark days, I tried to find help in words...
and picked up When things fall apart. 
I liked the idea of a female monk helping me.
Many of her words did and although I didn't finish the book,
I took what I needed from it and walked further away from the Dragon.

"When things are shaky and nothing is working, we might realize that we are on the verge of something. We might realize that this is a very vulnerable and tender place, and that tenderness can go either way. We can shut down and feel resentful or we can touch in on that throbbing quality. (9)” 
― Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart: Heartfelt Advice for Hard Times

Letting go seems to have become a subtle theme for me this year.
I have had to learn how to let go of people
Many of whom have transcended this world this year...most unannounced
I have started to REALLY let go of my subtitles, and simply be me.
I am trying, all the time
At times it is exhausting, trying to be so self aware and present that I loose the starting point...
It is easy to get lost in this big wide world...but holding on tighter to EVERYTHING is not the answer. At least, it is not the answer for me.

I met with a friend that was moving away recently, she was super high on where she was moving.
That she was ending her broken marriage, and making her own path.
Manifest destiny
The whole dinner, she talked and talked and talked about this new city she was moving to
she had memorized all the neighborhoods and what events happened when and how she was going to try it all, even things she never did before.
I sat through this whole dinner listening, openly listening...not the kind of listen that you appear to be listening, but really you are planning your response or next sentence.
When she came up for a breath, it was time to go.
I hugged her goodbye, wished her well and walked to my car confused.
I was feeling something but wasn't sure what it was.
It took most the rest of the night and then I realized what it was.
We had grown in two separate ways, and we were not able to really relate anymore.
I came to a moment of peace, I figured it out and was proud of myself for it.

A similar thing happened over the holidays,
I met a friend that I was super close to from high school in through college
He met me before I had plans to meet some ladies for tea.
He piggybacked on the date so to speak...he lives on the other side of the country
we use to talk alllllll the time, then he got married and it happened less and less often.
Now it is down to a text message at our respective birthdays.
This holiday,he texted that he was in town and I should come over to his brothers place to hang out while his family got ready to leave and go to a nearby town to meet with other family.
Initially I was upset at how caviler he acted about the text.
The Barren holds anger towards him for dropping me like a potato.
Instead, I explained that I was meeting some friends nearby, so why not meet me there early and we can chat ahead of the tea....
He first said no and then said sure.
When he did show up, he got two sentences in before his wife showed up and sat down next to him and listened to the conversation. (she said hello to me but that was about it, it is pretty commonplace for her. She use to interrupt the talks saying it was time to go) then his brother and wife and kids showed up...our little talk was witnessed by my girlfriends who scurried off into the cafe while we had our "nothing conversation" and talk about the weather.
About ten minutes in he said, well you better get some tea...and with that we hugged goodbye and that was that.
When I joined my girlfriends they said " WHAT WAS THAT?!" claiming that I had a smile on my face the whole time but clearly he was uncomfortable. I explained that he use to be my best friend from age 15 and once he got married, his wife was dead set on making sure he stopped our friendship...so it has grown apart. He is now really just a guy I went to high school with that I know a lot about. They asked why I was smiling so much, I told them....I was glad to see him.
I sent a text to him later that day saying it was nice to see him
it is yet to be replied to.
Growth
No hard feelings, just understanding.

I am thinking about what I want for myself for this next year.
I am thinking that wanting things/goals for myself is not a kind of selfish that has a negative connotation, but instead is a way to allow see myself grow!
I am looking to improve my self talk
and my belief in self worth


Wishes for a many leveled, many bright
many wonderful wishes new year to you all
  

Women of a certain age

My birthday is around the corner and while speaking to my mother, 

I expressed that I had no problem with my age. 

I explained that in my mind, this milestone number 

will release me from all sorts of things...

but mostly THE PEP TALK statement 

" there is still time to try and have kids, don't give up!"

I am done with people telling me to not give up, keep trying

and that there is still time.

I am actually feeling kind of soapboxy about it lately.

 I've spent years waiting, trying and watching life go by 

as I pinned my hopes on something that wasn't going to happen.

Actually now is the time to LIVE

I don't want to give up on me, on us, on what we still have left!

My mother seemed a little emotional about my revolutionary call to arms. 

I see her watch me ever so closely when I have a little rant or rave. 

I have done this since I was a child...but not until recently was I ever really heard 

( that took loads of therapy to figure out)

So when I see her watch me, I see her witnessing her reality of time 

and how long ago she was 

a young (she was 22 when I came into being) mom 

and all the hopes and dreams she had for me.

She declared " this is quite a milestone for you then isn't it"

I changed the subject, as I didn't want her to become a puddle of tears.

We then talked about our daily practice of our power poses, was she doing her "wonder woman"?

We had seen a TED talk together all about changing your mindset by simply holding these power poses for 2-5 minutes a day or before a big stressful event.

I have been trying to "re-educate" my mother on her feminist theory as it seems to be slipping away as she ages. Reminding her that she still possesses power and a valid voice.

I told her I had come across

a photo of myself that my grandmother had, that had me in this same pose.

I have been holding this pose for decades, 

I was meant to be strong

resourceful

powerful and brave!

I am going to be a 45 year old woman!

who still wants to be Wonder Woman

This time of year

I decided when my mother asked if we could come over for a last minute holiday dinner that we would host the second night of the holiday at our home. Just the parents and The Barren and myself.

It will be the first time I have done this and frankly, it is exciting and scary and a little sad.

I have spent the last two days planning the meal and making accommodations for food preferences and restrictions and flavors.

I spent a good portion of last night and today going from shop to shop looking for very specific foods and goods, and have found that we do not live in a neighborhood that caters to a wide variety of ethnic goods.

I have brought it all home and put it in the fridge, and checked off all the items of the lists I made.

I am now making a timeline so that I know what to make when and time it all so that I can sit and enjoy the meal with the parents, instead of what my mother usually does which is sit for 30 seconds and then jump up to start the next item....never really engaging in conversation or being present.

All these years I was asked to do the same, so by the time the last member at the table got their dish of food, I was up with my mother/grandmother and readying the next course.

Sitting only for a moment to eat cooled soup.

I am gonna do it different.

I am the next generation, the one that has witnessed this ritual for 40+ years and wondered why gather all these people if you can't sit and talk with them.

I am not adhering to the strictest of the laws, or making sure EVERYTHING is specially made for the holiday. Instead I am making everything from scratch, with love and care and thought.

I think that is the most important part.

While I prepare for this meal and evening, I think about my grandparents and the grandparents before them, I think about the children that are not here to talk to about the holiday and 

why my we makes a big deal out of it. 

I think about how big the table of people use to be and how small it is now.

It is a strange sensation.

I am taking great pride in hosting this and carrying on a generations old tradition, yet, I am also

holding in secret, the sorrow in my heart for those that are not here.

Fearless

Growling at the bears

My littlest niece is growling at the bears, 

fearless and unaware of anything except that she knows the sound that bears can make. 

I will be taking my ques from her as the year begins.

I had my blood taken again to see if the eating shifts and all have made an impact on my numbers.

Keeping me well away from medications and allowing me to be in control.

Sadly, no movement in the numbers.

only a handwritten note from my doctor:

" keep up the diet and exercise"

So I binged on three days that week....I ate food I would normally not.

I ate a piece of a butter ring on Christmas day.

I ate a some pizza after christmas:

 We made latkes and hosted a party for our nieces and nephews, 

so I has a few of those and had to have sour cream on them:

I was also introduced to Kahlua and cream/White russian

When the three days were up, I felt like lead...heavy and tired and oily.

I was only able to practice once the week of xmas and that made me feel bloated too.

As I walked to class yesterday, I wondered how my relationship with food had changed.

How it had changed with my own vision or reflection of my body...

In reflection, all the foods I binged on gave me only a moment of pleasure, and that mostly came from the feeling that I was "getting away" with something....like I was sneaking a treat in, but it never felt like a treat....it felt more like defeat.

I decided that I had crossed a bridge of sorts, the guilt from eating these foods had me frantically researching how to "detox", how to loose weight, 

how to do better, be better be perfect do perfect....

I caught myself spiraling and then I stopped.

Did I have a disorder with food? Did I see food as a reward, 

and a way to get back at myself or others? 

I got scared and living in the state I do, vanity and body image are distorted all around me...

it is a daily fight to make decisions that embrace who I am, and what I look like.

No plastic surgery, no tanning, no botox and no starving please.

Finally after seeing where all these destructive roads could lead I said out loud:

 I will eat the cleanest I can, I will keep up with my practice: because it makes me feel good. 

end of story. 

Selfish? Yes

Self preservation? Yes

I am no skinny Minnie, but I am stronger than I have ever been.

and

As much as I would like to make a voodoo doll of my doctor, I understand now, that her prompting brought me enough fear of death that I returned to a way of living that makes me feel better.

Food is not a comfort, not anymore.

I need to find comfort in my own strength, weaknesses, loves and fears.

I need to find what my littlest niece already knows about the world around her.

I will be stronger than I think I am,

 I will be happier than I think I can be

and my body will carry me for many more years.

I have shared this with no one, and now I share it here.
This is the start and the current of my body.

Someone Not Me

I had to go to the nursery to recover from what was my Friday...

I buy plants when I am extremely upset, emotionally.

Plants have always set my brain right, the garden and the potted plants on my patio have acted as therapists many times over.

It is a good vice, I mean a plant buying binge is far better in my mind than other vices.

 

I was called into jury duty. I sent in the card and followed the rules, but really I don't want to serve on a jury as I would have a hard time ruling on someones life.

When I got to the waiting room, a judge came in and talked about

how important it is to be a juror.

I listened and understood that I had no control over the day...and I tried to swallow that.

He assured us that we would not be called for family issues, like divorce or child custody.

I took an exhale of relief.

While waiting, someone from court appointed advocates came in and

told us about what they do in foster care....and speak out for abused foster kids...

I was getting mad, I felt assaulted by the sad situation and I wanted to run from the room.

She left and I went back to the drawing I had brought to keep me busy

and listened from my name each time a pool was called.

On the third round I was called to a courtroom.

I was OK with that, and after sitting in a jury chair as the room was quite full

 the judge read what the trial was about and I about lost it...

 

Crime of a lewd act against a child, and multiple molestation allegations

My heart was about to explode, it was beating so hard and I began to sweat.

When the judge asked if someone had a hardship and he got to me,

I stood before a packed room, shaking (I could hear it in my voice)
 and said that being a woman who has lived through 8years of infertility
I could not emotionally handle the details of the case.

He asked if I had a job, if I was married and if I had kids.

( I was angry, as I had just told him I was infertile...
hell, I told a good chunk of my counties demographic )

He then said it was not a hardship and to take a survey to fill out for the lawyers.

The prosecutor asked my name, and I spelt it as I left the room.

He said he didn't pick the jury, but the lawyers did.

I was fighting crying at this point...as I left the courtroom

I made it all the way to the bathroom at the end of the hall
to totally break down in a puddle.

Then I looked at myself in the mirror and told me:

" pull it together, you can write down why to the lawyers"

Keep fighting it

In another lifetime I was that person who would have wanted to be on the trial,

serve justice and get the wrongs righted.

I am not that person now.

I can mostly accept that.

I am struggling a little;
as I was asking to walk away from a moment of need.

 

I spent the next hour filling out the form,

details about if I knew people who were victims of crime

did I know police officers

did I know lawyers

did I think children's testimony was less valid than adults

and finally an area to tell them if I felt I could be unbiased.

I pleaded that as an infertile woman
I am very sensitive to stories of children and
that the details of this case might send me into a depression, undoing all my therapy.

I told them I could not be unbiased or open minded.

After I finished the survey, I left the building angry
and feeling like I was being forced to witness another horrible thing in life.
 

I got back to my car, knowing I would have to return Monday...

I called my mom to tell her that I might not be able to take her
to her medical procedure on Tuesday and when she said you OK?

I lost it and cried, a lot...no words just tears.

She was patient, and then said "can you tell me anything?
...I said: "the worst you can imagine"

"She said is it about children?"...and I cried

I told her I needed to get some plants

She told me she would foot the bill, I giggled...and then said

"I'm sure your survey will get you excused"

I told her I hoped so, as that was my only hope now.

 

After buying a trunk load of plants and new mulch...

I spent the weekend trying to not think about it.

it was futile.

I dreamt about it, I had quiet moments and panicked about it....

I returned this morning and after waiting,

my name was in the first pool of names called into the courtroom.

The judge excused us.

I looked at the prosecutor and whispered "thank you"

then turned and left the courtroom.

I could breathe deeper

 

I am now home, squeezing the kitties watering my new plants and sipping tea.

I hope I did the right thing



Finding my way

I don't know exactly when it happened or how...but something has shifted in a new and better way.

Do you ever have those moments when you realize that after much effort and not much thought about how long you have been at it...it shifts.

 

I have recently realized this;  my eyes are clearing, my heart is lifting...my sadness is abating.

I don't know what I did, so I am hesitate to turn too quickly or jump up and down for joy.

I have been tested too, there is no doubt about that.

We had our 10 year old niece this last weekend and had fun for the most part, but there was a lot of negotiating. Like getting into the shower after the pool (first world problem I know), or begging her to finally go to sleep in the dark at midnight (after I had been up since 4:30am for yoga that same day), and then the final straw...me physically lifting her into the car to go home
and her crying over half way back.

I mostly thought, fuck, I am too old for this shit....

 

As she whimpered from the back seat folded over her pillow, I used phrases like:

" I hear what you are saying, I know you are disappointed, but we made a promise to be home at a certain time and we have to stick by it"

"I am sorry you are so frustrated, I understand you and know how you feel"
" It is breaking my heart that this is how our fun time is ending"

 

I then tried to regain normalcy, I knew she wouldn't talk to me, but she was listening, so I sang along with this song...and told her how it was my favorite one right now: 

 

 

 

as she heard my voice join the music she picked her head off the pillow,
and looked at me in a new way. I kept singing over and over
I love you
   I love you....
 

By the time we got home she was talking to me again, telling me how she was watching youtube videos about how to make "cat eyes" and I told her I would try to do them and

then send her a picture of my trials.

I have a 10year old niece, who I struggled to understand and keep up with all weekend long. The Barren and I both crumbled to dust when her crocodile tears appeared and we both realized that we are not at a point in our lives anymore where we could parent and play....

we can only do one or the other.

Is that wrong to admit ?

 

This was followed by me making a belly cast of my SIL who is due in just a couple weeks.

This whole pregnancy I have not asked to feel her tummy, I don't feel a need to anymore.

It is beautiful and she is careful to not complain about her pregnancy around me....I think that is really kind. As I was building the layers of plaster around, further and further away from her skin, I found that I started to admire the form, the round fullness and wondered why not mine...

it lasted for only a moment and then washed away, I felt light again...

I think I am really making a new neuro-pathway.

It is a delicate structure still, I understand that, but I am actually building it

and it feels quite empowering.

 

When I returned from the emotional roller coaster, The Barren and I went out for a glass of wine and cheese. We just dropped everything and did it...as we were slowly getting loopy we flirted with the idea of a late movie or a night time wander...for us the whole night was still ahead

A Glimpse

(source)

The Barren and I went to breakfast alone on Saturday morning.
We woke up early and drove to a new bakery, ordered a handmade pastry, and ate outside.
I had my feet up, barefoot on a chair, he and I were shaded under a big flowering tree.
We watched the traffic go by, people watched and commented.
A slow start to the day, with gentle wind and giggles.

A young family arrived as were wrapping up our meal, we watched them. Chasing the littlest one, closing the iron gate into the courtyard we were sitting in so the little one wouldn't dash out into traffic. Changing the set up of the seating area. We admired the kids, and the calm nature of the family but didn't seem to be saddened by this missed moment in our lives.
We were relishing the alone time we had, the freedom of movement we possessed.

We left, and went home, passing time before heading to a friend's party.
There was a half hour before the start time of the festivities and at that moment, as we heard the neighborhood children playing outside, screaming and running; we decided to make love.
Right in the middle of the day, with the door to our bedroom open.
It was passionate and spontaneous and we didn't have to plan around children.

It was a moment in time when I saw what was ahead for us.

We had freedom unlike the other people in our small community of neighbors.
We walked to the party afterwards, a little late, and enjoyed the rest of the day with friends.
There were children at the party, and their nearby parents.
People that are trying to become parents and people who don't want to be parents.
Throughout the party when The Barren found me he covered me in kisses,
when I came up to him I walked up and did the same.

It was almost like a dream, so smooth and calm and serene.
If that is my future with The Barren, then I can walk a little more confidently into it.

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!

 

Moving Forward...

image via pinterest

 

So as another week passes I feel fortified!

I got me one FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC

badass girl friends!

 

This last weekends family gathering was so low on drama, it was shocking.

(thank you for your kind words and thoughts)

 

The Barren and I both were still a bit guarded,

and watching our niece and nephew play with the other young duo that was there was heartbreaking, but also enjoyable as we had no responsibilities other than giving hugs and kind words.

 

The Barren feeding the in house bunnies and piggies

 

We were often quiet, and although there was a lot of talking, a lot of it was about other people, other adventures and other events. It was refreshing.

We posed for the "awkward family photo" and the few pics I have seen so far, reflect the level of comfort everyone was feeling from wearing matching outfits.

No attacks, no drama for me, no drama for The Barren

ahhhhhh

 

We returned home and I spoke with girlfriends and unloaded my heart.

Every dear wonderful friend I spoke to was angry and wanted to hit them( SIL and MIL)

 upside the head with a cast iron pan.

It made me feel so loved and protected and cared for

in a really primal way.

I know that the ladies I have worked so hard to have in my life are dear wonderful companions.

I feel like the luckiest lady on earth for it.

 

Now, now I am diving back into the studio...it is where I am happiest.

It is safe and free and smells right

 

Plus, I need to reinforce those plates of armour

My aforementioned mother-in-law will be visiting very soon.

next week I am told.

So that distance I thought I had is not the case....The Barren promises to stay near this time.

I think mostly to make sure I don't pick up any pans

 



Easy as 1,2,3

Last year the Earl and his wife suffered a miscarriage. I was the first person they told when they got a positive test and the only call when things were not looking like it was going to last...The Earl, desperate to help his wife asked me to ask my IF "friends" if any of them had taken this hormone or that hormone and what the chances were of it helping stop a miscarriage. I was touched that he felt this close to me and I was heartbroken for them as the pregnancy ended and I could offer no help to stop it.

About two months ago, I got a call after dinner from The Earl again. "It looks like she is pregnant again. I suggested that she wait to tell anyone about it until it was much farther along this time." Last time she was 6weeks along when she told friends at a dinner out, within a week she lost the pregnancy.  I told him congratulations as I hung up the phone and thought of their other two children at home....how the youngest was now possibly going to be a middle child.

The Earls wife comes from a line of woman who enter menopause in their late 30's. One sister had a child as a teen and now is unable to have another, and the other is in the middle of multiple years of IF treatments to create a family of their own. So the fact that the Earl's wife had gotten pregnant in her mid 30's twice in this last year was surprising on it's own.

Yesterday I picked up the eldest from school, with the younger one in tow, as The Earl and his wife went to the doctor for the 11 week confirmation ultrasound. I was asked to help because if our mother caught wind of a Dr's appointment she would ask a machine gun line of questions that they didn't want to answer yet. So I was the confidant again.

When the appointment was over and they came to pick up the children, they had no reactions on their faces. There were others here, and they were not able to speak freely or openly. None the less, it made my mind wander to the dark places, and  I imagined the worst scenarios....chemical pregnancy, ectopic pregnancy...still child.

Once the room was cleared and the children were shuffled away and en route to home with the Earls wife; The Earl showed me the ultrasound. In it, a kicking moving thing that looked like a baby kangaroo...flickering shimmering heart. I could hear the voice of the ultrasound tech, high pitched and giggly. I turned to The Earl and said  "that is what an tech sounds like when you have a baby in you? They sound so happy. Wow I never got to hear that..." He didn't say a thing....but maybe at that moment realized what this was like for me. I hugged him and said congratulations again and packed up my things to head home.

They made it look so easy.

Monday

 

 

I am reminded at the start of each work week that things start anew

...over and over again.

 

sunrise view from my office
 

 

I am continuing to make big efforts to meet with friends; for my mental health and theirs.

I have been working hard at creating new friendships, and so far it has been rewarding. 

During a recent chat, one of these friends mentioned that things were tense, she was freaking out and anxious about money and her relationship and how life is shifting quickly.

We talked out a good brainstorm and made a list of sorts about how she would find things less crazy, and what she needed to do to feel more in control.

In the end, she sighed and said:
"I know it will be so much better when I wake up tomorrow, it always is"

I admired that, the unshakable knowledge that things will be brighter the next day...in some way.

Maybe it is just a little distance, or a little extra breathing space...but the ability to just see things that much more clearly and calmly.

 

I can honestly say that infertility has made me less social, hence the strides to "break out of my shell"

In some ways I have lost major pieces of my social skills,
or I seem to want to make less effort at them.

What is out of practice is now needing to be relearned.

Sometimes this is like dragging a wet blanket behind me,
other times it is like finding a lovely scent and following it.
It is always something isn't it.

 

Well, my newest homework is going to come into play tonight.

I am a new member of an academic woman's group. One that plays a role for my art,

 as well as, just a good group of new people to become friendly with. 

 

Tonight's goal:

Walk up to a new person, learn about them and then REMEMBER their name.

I have been given tips on how to do this from the chattiest person I know.

As she was explaining the nuances, I felt like an alien being introduced to a culture, and a child.

My dignity and ego has taken a back seat for sure.

 When I was thinking about this evenings goal on the way to work today, I was sweating, anxious and then I remembered two things:
This evening will not kill me, I might be uncomfortable, but I will not die from it
and
it will be better when I wake up tomorrow morning.

 

Yes...yes I did

Every once in a while I get curious what it is like to be a girlie girl.

So this year it has manifested as a $14 salad (still trying to calculate those costs)

 and the September issue of VOGUE

Yes I bought the magazine, as well as a handful of new make-up and have sat down for a good put your feet up and enjoy fantasy read.

all the fancy stuff in this salad fell to the bottom of the container

When my 10 year old goddaughter saw the copy of the magazine on the  coffee table, I looked at her and said, "The pictures are all fun to look at but nothing in this magazine is real; none of the women have pores...if you don't have pores you can't be real"

Hopefully, when she is ready to crack open her first "fashion" magazine she remembers that.

The Kindergartener

I think they are holding their heads like this to balance the hairstyle

I had tea with another creative, someone I adore and have made friends with recently...we were friendly before but something shifted about a two or so years ago and we just started hanging out more...it was natural and easy and we are both kind of dorky and geeky and giggly. We both have suffered from depression and have come out on the brighter side and can tell when the other is skirting the edge. It is quite refreshing.

So we were having tea on Thursday and talking shop, she is a graphic designer and painter and we talk out creative roadblocks in an effort to figure out how to keep moving. She went first and we talked about her creative and personal road blocks and sipped tea and ate macaroons and figured some shit out...then she looked and me and said "your turn".

I was feeling sort of blue, since my piece didn't sell at the event.

BACKTRACK....

I called the gallery on Tuesday, the event decided to host a "Morning after exhibit" in order to give people an extra chance to purchase art that hadn't sold at the big hootenanny and didn't want to buy entry tickets on top of the art purchase price...I called it the "sloppy seconds" gallery.  So I called there on Tuesday to find out (incognito) if my piece had sold. I did this at work (my other job, I work in an industrial business that my brother owns) and while my mother was visiting me there. So I called and said " Hello I was calling to see if number 55 was still available for sale?" trying to be all sly and disguise-y "Oh, Hi we didn't keep the numbers on the work, can you describe it to me?"  SHIT..."Um...yeah, it was a print, of two women with trophies..." I was kind of freaking out..."OH that one I LOVE that piece, yep it is here." ..gulp" uh, thank you I will tell the person that is interesting in it" "OK, bye..."

My brother, hearing this conversation, started to laugh..." you are going to tell yourself" I hung up the phone and said out loud " Barreness, your work is in the sloppy second gallery, you have shamed your family name" My mother, kind of didn't get this and said, well, your father and I  are going to see it tomorrow...I am glad it is still there. My brother, at my comment realized I was upset.

I took a little walk and came back to finish my work.

Back to Thursday:

I had woken up that morning, dragging, looking forward to meeting my friend and talk about something other then the pity party I had been throwing myself for the last couple days. When she said my turn...I just sighed..she said "unload"...I told her that I was disappointed that my work hadn't sold and that I had really gone out on a limb with new techniques and processes and I had blown all my whistles and rung all my bells. It was silly to be upset about it, as I know how subjective art is and that I am trying to get into a new community of artists and that it is super clique-y and that art is all about who you know and as an art buyer you have to be following artists in order to really gauge what they are making and how they are growing artistically and it SUPER SUCKED that my work was in the sloppy seconds gallery.

She looked at me and said "of course it hurts, the kindergartner in you worked really really hard on that piece and was really proud of it and no one told her they liked it"

I started crying....it was validating.

 I kept thinking how I was ushered in, in the 23rd hour to be part of this exhibit, and two people put their names on the line for me and my participation. I didn't want to let them down. I didn't want to make a fool of myself. Like finally being invited to a party and then bringing  food that makes everyone sick. Remembered for all the wrong reasons.

I felt ridiculous, but it made more sense. She reaffirmed that I knew that going that extra mile was the best thing artistically even if the work didn't go home with someone.

We left topic after that....and talked about other shop talk things and giggled.

I was able to breathe again.

I met the Barren at home and told him I finally mourned the lost opportunity and that my continued work hard was just what I needed to keep doing. The phone rang....my parents had gone to the gallery, but my piece wasn't there. My father chatted up the gallery gal and she showed him the sales log and there was my name, and there was the name of the buyer....it sold out of the sloppy seconds gallery.

I asked if they were messing with my head, and my father got all super serious and said:

 "I would not joke about your work."

I think that if I had gotten this information hours earlier it would not have felt as good as it did. I had mourned my little broken hearted kid in me and walked ahead. The Barreness, had slammed that kid really hard but had not won. It was liberating and fulfilling.

The gallery sent an email out the following day with images of the work that was still available for sale and my image was not amongst them. My father had not lied.

* I looked up the name of the buyer, SHE is a super amazing humanitarian who is building schools for girls in Africa. How super cool is that!

Here is the piece she bought: