I am wondering which way is up?

my garden is producing so many cucumbers

I have earmarked this week as a week that I stay put and try and make something! I miss making my work; thinking and trying to make the colors work or the concept appear as I feel it. it has been bumpy so far, focused time yesterday maxed-out at about 20 minutes, before calls, and emails and my brain just collapsed.

As of late, my life has been my parents...all engrossing, notes on the phone and scraps of paper. I drive into town at least once a week to deliver a couple prepared meals and make sure appointments are known and addresses are marked down. Remind them of what is required of them and how they should react to particular situations. I attend all the doctors appointments now, with exceptions for mental health care appointments and now my fathers in-home physical therapy.

I am the decoder ring. My parents don't absorb information and so I attend and answer questions that bubble up after we leave. Sometimes it was who did we just see and why?

My father finally was finally diagnosed with NPH , which in short, is extra fluid on the brain that doesn't resolve and leaves his brain compressed from the internal pressure. We saw a brain surgeon and she mentioned that he indeed has it and it appears it has been in place since his fall in 2024. She said that a valve could be placed in his brain to drain the excess fluid. She described the process and when she was done, my father said " you aren't gonna drill a hole into my skull!"  She said that he didn't have to have the surgery, but call her if he changes his mind. This is not a fatal disease, just a functional one. I suspect it was there before his fall but ignored or downplayed by his neurologist. It doesn't matter now how long he has had it, we are all going to have to live with it because he refuses to have surgery for it. Frankly, I am not sure he would be the best candidate for the brain surgery anyways...he would be required to do a lot of PT afterwards to recover from it and I don't think he would commit to it. So he will continue to be confuses, unsteady and experience funtional issues.

I made a promise to myself recently (in the last three weeks) that I would like to try and have a relationship with my parents and not spend my time fighting, bargaining and being run over. 

A friend of a friend mentioned this option with their children being picky eaters...they said, I could spend my time with then yelling and making them miserable or I could let it go and have a relationship with them. Most things work themselves out...I took this idea to heart when I was having a panic attack thinking of all the things I was trying to get them to do for their own good and falling flat and being run over, and snapped at. 

So now my voices' cadence is cheery, I don't debate, I don't engage with the bait to fight about something. I simply say "okay" and put down the conflict that is building.

My mother( the better of the two)  has become resistant and more forgetful, but it is hard to know if it is from her lack of sleep or lack of attention to what is being said to her. She seems to retain less and less and is procrastinating more and more. She cries on almost every phone call we have and says she needs help and then when it is offered, she snaps and says that we have overstepped and she doesn't want it. This usually means that she will reflect about it and a week or more later say she needs that help again and we will try again....except I think this time my mom might have burnt a bridge with my brother. Only time will tell....

So while all this swirls in my brain, I am trying to put it down and think about my studio practice. The Barren took the week off work and said he wanted to support me in my focused time: he said he would make me lunch and do laundry etc...so I would be less distracted with responsibilities; but has so far, he has not been home for most of the day. He leaves to play music with his friend late morning and comes back around 8pm, as this was his usual "music camp" week* (a week he takes off annually to attend music workshops etc...with his bandmate) I am glad he is relaxing and taking time to feed his creative vein. 

All this time alone is like still air, I am left to also make food and clean up and reflect on how far away I am from creating something. 

My heart is broken...I feel so afloat. I am used up in so many ways...

I try and find things that would lead me back to the path of thinking about my work: doing yoga early in the morning to kick start my brain, watering my garden to clear my head. Clearing clutter in the workspace....making food and writing down what might pop into my head...but I am having a really hard time not feeling so very dark. I am exhausted and often feel like I am dragging my body around from place to place. I want to sleep for days, but I can't justify it in my mind, I would waste all those hours of potential creative making. I am at a loss....and when things get that quiet, my parents creep back into my thoughts. Long lists of things I should do, need to do, need to call....it is everywhere.

I had a nightmare the other night that I was standing in traffic at a very busy intersection, and when I saw a muscle car speeding towards me I couldn't move. I froze in place. I felt the car wiz past me, I felt the air vibrated past me and I got knocked by the side mirror...but it also felt like it had hit me and I traveled through the car, feet cemented into place. I stood there and wondered if I was still alive. That is when I decided it was time to wake up and get the day to begin. 

Grief

 I have found that my recent doctors visits are causing a wake. I am spun for a couple days after the visit or test. It seems to be more obvious to me now. Maybe it was always like that, but I wasn't as tuned into myself before...but it is like a neon sign to me now.

I can mask fairly well during the visit, but afterwards, it is like a crash. I want to cry and hide and be taken care of. None of which are realistic anymore.

Having to receive monthly infusions now has challenged my sense of self and belief in my strength.

Am I really a strong woman or have I just made myself into a character in my mind? A woman that can handle anything thrown at her. A woman that can balance all the dishes and dance steps. A woman that can smile no matter what is being said about her. A woman that can walk into any room with confidence and poise and carry on a conversation with anyone there regardless of the topic.

Now I feel like a shell, I feel broken and covered in duct tape to hold it together and no one seems to notice because I have enchanted them for so long, they can't see me any other way.

When I saw my doctor last I broke down on the exam table telling her I was overwhelmed and she told me to be thankful of all I have. It felt like a slap in the face.

When I started getting my infusions over a year ago, and all the tests prior to that, I had drawn a line in the sand, that I don't want needles in my hands. I had a horrible experience many years ago from an ER hospital visit where I got a series of small hard lumps in my left arm that took months to resolve. I was in so much pain from them that I told The Barren that I NEVER want an IV in my hand ever again. My line was upheld with one exception, my endo surgery back in 2012.

Yesterday I had to cross it again at my infusion with a new nurse.*

Tuesday (the day before) I went for an MR enterography. For mine, you have to drink two and half bottles of thick fluid that lights up your gut, and then they give you medicine to slow your gut down, and then inject you with contrast, and take a bunch of photos face down in a MRI machine. The nurse tried multiple times to get a line started in my arm, before declaring it done, all the while my left arm, was left sore, swollen, bruised and an unviable option for my infusion the next day. 

*Hence the need to seek new veins.

When the infusion nurse said she'd be gentle and not leave a mark, I had to fold...I had to get my long fought for medicine. My self advocacy tank was empty, what choice did I have?

I quickly set into play a weighing of the options in my mind and thought, 

Ideally this decision will not land me in the ER again. 

A phrase I use far more often these days.

After she placed the IV she stepped away to attend to other matters and I shed a couple tears...I told myself to hold it together until we were somewhere else. Somewhere softer than an artificially lit room, with artificial plants devoid of images, and filled with the scent of rubbing alcohol. I think I was able to wipe the teardrops without being seen. The Barren sent me a text message shortly after that promised I could cry it all away that night when he got home. That idea gave me some extra bravery and I sat a little taller.

Two hours later I was back in my car, and driving to the hardware store to pick up some plants to put into the soil on my patio before the wave of fatigue hit. I went home, ate some rice and tofu and sat in silence. Then around 5pm, The Barren called and said he could not make any more choices for the day and so I called in an order to the local Vietnamese restaurant and The Barren picked it up on the way home. He then told me about how horrible his day was and I listened and told him I was sorry he had a rough day, ideally things will be less stressful now that he was home. My arm was itching and aching from the day before and I think I hid that from him too.

I ended up falling asleep on the couch while he watched something on YouTube and then crawled into bed, asking him before falling back to sleep if he thought I was strong.

He said: you are a warrior, you have had to fight for so much.

This made me sadder than I thought it would. 

Infertility has taught me a lot about grief, and sadness appearing in new and unexpected places. It has taught me how to speak up in medical spaces and ask questions, but also fortify myself for the answers as they are often ones you don't want. It has marked me in ways seen and unseen.

The new infusion nurse told me that I had such a calm serene energy about me. I thanked her and realized that my outward self was on display and that my inner dialog of tears, duct tape and sadness was hidden from sight, thankfully.

Gone

*** trigger warning, a post about grief and loss ***

 

We held him as he fell into his final sleep. 

17years and 2months after bringing him home; my constant companion for all those years. 

I made choices over these past years to not travel on business trips or even multiple days away, as he got stressed out and I would be distracted by not seeing he was okay.

As he aged I was his primary caretaker and huge portions of my day were spent checking on him, and making sure all his needs were addressed before he knew he needed them. It was something I didn't even think about as the days ran on. He loved me and I loved him.

He was my friend, my confidant and a true companion.

Quarantine made our time together more structured and we napped at or around 1:30pm almost daily together, as I sleep lightly at night, it was an easy way to give him attention and get some soothing from him for my anxiety and sorrow. 

Around mid October, something happened. The Barren and I were chatting and he let out a strange meow, which had us rushing to him. He lost all mobility in his legs, leaving him unable to stand or sit. we took him onto the patio and spoke to him as he looked confused and tired. Our daily hummingbird looked on at him and the scene unfolding. Xander tried to stand and walk indoors and I supported him and took him into my studio where he laid on a pillow on the floor and settled into what we thought was going to be his final moments. Over the next three hours he regained the use of his legs and was able to walk again and eat. I laid awake most of that night checking on him and soothing him through two more mini episodes. I asked The Barren if all my hair had turned white from the shock.

As the next days past, we was totally self propelled....but I started noticing he was more and more tired.

His breathing became more and more labored, he needed to take a break walking down the hallway. He got winded turning around in the seat. He drank less and ate less...the time had come.

A lovely vet came to our home and with one looked said she understood why we called her.

While they prepared his sleeping medicine, he got up from his patio chair, walked into the house, greeted them and then motioned to be picked up. The Barren held him, then handed him to me. I walked back outside and sat with him. The hummingbird returned and sat on the leaf above his feeder and watched.

Xander got a sleeping medicine shot and then the euthanasia shot. He fell into a slow sleep, hearing my heartbeat and his head being covered in kisses.

Simply put, this cat was magic, as I am sure most peoples companions are to them...how lucky we are to be able to walk with them. How lucky I was to give him dignity and a peaceful death.

I sat in the chair the next morning, crying and mourning. The hummingbird arrived and sat on his leaf. He looked at me, then the door and the deck and the chair, waiting and searching for Xander. I watched this for 15minutes...and wondered how do you console a hummingbird?!

Xander's ashes were returned two days later, and we built our annual Dia de los Muertos altar.

The silence in the house is deafening, and maybe that is why I can hear the hissing in my ears so well these days. Today marks one week since he left and I still awake in the middle of the night looking for his fur to pat, peek into rooms to see if he is sleeping quietly...We are donating his food, new cat toys and some cat beds to the rescue we got him from.

The hummingbird comes and sits on his leaf daily still, singing and watching me as I sit in the chair Xander use to sun in and that he took his final breath in. I talk to the hummingbird and thank them for their songs and tell them what a good friend he was to keep Xander company on the patio while he slept and sunned himself in his final months.

Although I have yet to take a nap since he passed, I know that I will eventually...maybe he will come to me in my dreams while I doze and think of him.

**you can hear the hummingbird chirp as he arrives off camera

The Letter

"Yoga Goddess, 

I have debated reaching out...but felt it was important for you to know that you have a secret ally in your corner.

I am sorry life is sucking so very badly...

This is not the way you imagined....anything.

I can not imagine what you are going through, but I can empathize as we spent nearly a decade trying to build a family.

When we were trying there was not a lot of resources and still a lot of stigma.

I found this site very helpful for resources and knowledge:

she has organized everything (left side) under topics and it might help in some way.

https://www.stirrup-queens.com

Please forgive me if I have overstepped or made you feel like you haven't thought of this yourself.

I am happy to answer any questions you might have or 

help in anyway you might find you are in need of.

I continue to be a dedicated yogi, and friendly face in the crowd.

Smiles and hopes,

The Barreness "

I was haunted with words of advice for the owner of the studio I practice at when:

 she made the start of her IVF journey public knowledge. 

Then came the public spreadsheet of drug costs 

and 

then came the crowd funding page set up by a friend. 

I was going to tell her that pain does not equate your desire to be a mother.

That simply putting the desire out was enough 

but then I realized that she is most likely getting an earful...so I sent the email above.

She responded soon there after, kindly:

"Thank you so much Barreness this means a lot to me!

I’m proud of you for reaching out, and so happy you did. 

I will definitely check out the site you sent over. 

Love you tons!

Xoxo

Yoga Goddess"

At the end of the day I saw it as a call to action.

It was more important to reach out to a fellow woman in need than

sit and watch how this all unfolded...

Learning Curve

I am gonna be honest, it has been really hard these last two weeks.

Loosing such a massive presence in our home has shifted the vibrations.

I am missing my studio "manager"

in fact it was really hard to simply be in the workroom without him the first week.

We have awoken to sounds in the middle of the night, 

heard purrs, and felt a heavy weight of absence daily.

The Barren has broken down at work multiple times

I normally try and hold it together around him, so that he can feel safe to fall apart.

I fall apart in the shower, or on the drive home...

I skipped a lot of classes in the last two weeks and ate and did nothing but chores.

Being in class seemed to trigger waterfalls of thoughts of him, and I fought weeping loud horrible sobs. I also found that a lot of my grief came with guilt. I am not sure why, but at least I identified that and can work on figuring out why that is entwined. 

The in home senior cat is not crying for the other cat as much,  yowling at the front door and the bottom of the door like a " I am here, find me by my voice".

He is working on being in a space, any space he chooses; alone.

He is making strides and I am learning what he needs to feel secure and loved as he grieves.

I have struggled, as I do not have any friends locally.

I am social in class, and when running errands but no one to get a dinner with.

My bestie is hundreds of miles away and I have been texting her a lot.

She is good about that.

The curator sent a card, which was really amazingly sweet.

I tried to have a sit and chat with a couple of artists I know who were passing through town to see a lecture. One of them had just lost her pup 4 months ago and so she spoke of that a lot.

I really just wanted to feel less, and just socialize...but she needed to decompress still.

So I returned home, feeling tired and spent the rest of the day napping with the cat.

Today I woke up and said, 

lets try this again...

tomorrow will be two weeks and you need to start back on your life hike.

So I went to class and feed myself breakfast and got into the workroom and answered emails and figured out a project that needs to be done this weekend.

I am feeling a little less dark....

the senior cat is even sleeping in the chair in the workroom, 

something he hasn't done in months.

I guess we are both trying to get back into gear.

I dread the call from the vet to pick up the ashes...but I think in a way, it will feel like he is close again...at least his body. 

His spirit is clearly free and visiting us in our dreams and being seen from the corner of our sight.

Mostly I have just given myself space and time and been as kind as I could be with myself...

with cookies and avocado.

Challenge and changes

***warning***

Post about new loss of a companion 

So I finished the 30days of yoga in 31days, I had 35 to do it in.

in the final week, a horrible happened.

Our sweet fat kitty was diagnosed with aggressive large cell lymphoma in his intestines along with a sizable growth that was impeding into this colon.

This came out of no where and to say the least has taken us to the rawest place.

He was diagnosed on Tuesday, the day before his 13th birthday, confirmed cell size on Wednesday and Friday night we had the vet home to home and let him go.

In the two and a half days from diagnosis he had stopped eating and drinking and was no longer sleeping but just gazing. 

The disease moved fast and the vet said that the gazing was it entering the brain.

He was slathered in love, and body rubs and kisses and told over and over how much he was loved.

He was the first cat to have as a companion that spoke to you and moaned and groaned responses.

He loved sleeping and when not sleeping, he liked to nap.

There is a massive hole in us

The Barren declared that he lost his best friend.

I am struck over and over during the day.

The surviving kitty, is 3 years older and today has been calling for him....

It is heart breaking...yesterday he spent a large portion as high up on my chest as he could get

my heart below his flip flopping in my chest.

It is going to be a long road as we all learn to live with this new grief.

I am thankful I had 13years with him

and was able to laugh through tears as memories of his antics flood my mind.

Ideally we were able to free him from his body fast enough to avoid him suffering from an evil fast moving demon....

You are a wreck

So I went to the endo doctor....

I had The Barren come with me, well, because it was a male doctor and as sexist as that sounds often times when I have visited a male doctor they talk down to me unless The Barren is present.

It sucks and is sad, but true.

So I brought back-up

Also, I had MASSIVE white coat and I wanted a second set of ears to hear what my brain dropped with its high screeching sound.

I was sweating and anxious and although my clots had stopped on Monday, I was still spotting.

The doctor came into the exam room like a cowboy on a bulldozer.

Sat down in front of me with my folder and said:

"You are peri-menopausal.

that is why you are bleeding like this."

"We've met before, but you were asleep" (creepy)

He assisted on my ovarian cystectomy and stage four endo confirmation.

" yep, you are total mess, everything is just all mucked up in there."

He was trying to make light of things I think...but it came across a little like a used car salesman

He told me that when I got tired of bleeding I should consider a D&C or Uterine Ablation or both.

But first, 

" We need to do an endometrial biopsy, to confirm that you don't have uterine cancer. I don't think you do, but it is important to confirm that.

I have my nurse practitioners do them because I don't like to hurt people and they hurt. Because I have never had any children, my cervical opening is small or totally closed and they might not be able to do the biopsy, so if that is the case then they would do it with a D&C""

I saw The Barren go pale when the doctor described the process 

and I think I left my body at that moment.

He suggested that I double up on my BC pill to up the hormone and if it works then we can switch to another pill and just take them back to back.

Oh, and you can only take the pill until you are 50 so you only have a little bit of time left on that.

then you are considered Menopausal and you shouldn't be on the pill anymore.

I told him I was most afraid of having to have a hysterectomy and he told me that he had ZERO desire to do one, that he doesn't even have it on the list of options....unless needed.like uterine cancer.

That was a relief among the land mines.

He also said that caffeine or alcohol are not triggers for endo and that I should be drinking champagne whenever I want and enjoying my cup of tea in the morning.

I left the office with a biopsy appointment, with a nurse practitioner that was versed in the procedure of difficult subjects, and the lady at the front desk said she would ask if a should take some kind of medicine ahead of the procedure to help make it easier for us both...but it wasn't an anti-anxiety drug.

I left the appointment feeling like I had been run over by a mack truck!

I was dizzy and shaking and confused and so very sad.

I spoke to a pharmacist yesterday that confirmed that doubling up on the BC pill was a good option and if the spotting stopped then get a new prescription with that dose and take three 28 day packs back to back. 28 day packs have a wider range of dosages of hormone than the 91day generics I take.

I started last night and aside from some nausea this morning, I feel pretty alright and the spotting seems to be stopping too! 

I did yoga yesterday and today...that helped A LOT.

I am scared of the biopsy, but keep trying to focus on it being a 10-15 minute 

procedure and that the pain will be temporary.

The Barren is taking me to and from the appointment that day.

I am so done with this bullshit

I am done with doctors

I am done with the sadness

I am done with painful procedures

I am done with feeling so overwhelmed

but something somewhere in me won't let me totally give up and give in

I still have some dim flame of hope that this will be it, the last of it for a long spell 

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

Pride in the journey

So The Barren is growing in his grief...he is learning to identify his triggers.

That is HUGE

He was at work learning some new stuff for his current role and a new parent was talking about how thankful they were to have some time off work and it was supported by the employer.

I got a text message saying:

" HR was talking about paid family leave and out of nowhere I find myself about to break down...doing OK now, but it was touch and go for a moment"

After work he met with him mom and they were chatting and she started to ask about all our friends with kids and how we must hang out with them and play with their kids...

He spoke up and said, you know we often need to protect ourselves from our triggers and make sure we are alright with going to an event or party. We often skip them so that we can relax and enjoy our afternoon too. He told her about the event earlier in the day.

She was flustered, and out of no where asked if we were thinking about adoption.

to which The Barren said NO

He thinks she was not sure how to deal with suddenly witnessing his grief 

...I think she just needed to get a question off her chest.

Regardless, I am beyond proud of him and his new ability to speak up about things that trigger his sorrow and memories. He is making progress and that is to be applauded.

Remembering Death and Life Lived

I had been wanting to go to an event in a nearby major city for several years now, but never had the right timing or drive. So when a buddy called and said she'd drive and wanted to go right after they opened I cleared my schedule and said I'll buy your ticket!

It turned out to be just what I needed and 

aside from a set of scabs from my new sandals it was a great day!

The Dia de Los Muertos festival takes over whole sections of the cemetery 

it is a mix of altars and memorial structures and vendors selling all things related to the holiday.

There are face painters and food vendors too.

Live music, native dancers and people

AMAZING people watching!!

I celebrate this holiday, as it is the anniversary of The Barren and I getting married.

We purposely chose this day, as it is when the veil is the thinnest between the two worlds 

( the living and the dead)

so we knew that anyone of our loved ones could attend the wedding if they choose to.

It is also around the same time as the first of our miscarriages.

So I feel like our babies can feel our love the most around now.

It is a good cathartic way to celebrate, remember and mourn loved ones.

It is all in the spirit of love

and who could not love that !

I took my camera and the below are some of the fun results

Girlfriends all dressed for the day
(everyone was willing to have their photo taken, no one said no)

Jaguar dancer looking at some of the altars

crazy face painting!

Some famous cool dudes are buried here

LOVED her headpiece,
it sparkled and was amazing dancing with the light

Cat memorial in the wall of marigolds
this broke my heart and had me close to tears
I was glad The Barren was home with our lovelies

A Frida Kahlo sculpture complete
with a reproduction of her chest cast and lost baby.
I wanted to take this home.

Your favorite leaf eater
with one of the many paper mache sculptures
it was 90* (32c) , hence the sleeveless top

I took away a lot of ideas for our personal altar this year.

I was able to be quiet most of the day and just look, which was a gift beyond words.

I have a couple friends that understand quiet doesn't mean that I don't want to talk to you, but instead I am talking so much to myself I can't bear to say words aloud.

Today, tomorrow and many years ago

Today is the 11th of September

it is a big number here in the states.

It leaves me a little unsettled.

I was working at a company that distributed maps when the actual events unfolded 

and for the next year and a half my life was totally changed.

First we got calls from the military 

asking what we were selling and who could buy it.

Then we got calls from the news agencies from all over the world.

Then calls from military families often crying on the phone line asking, 

where these countries

 were that their loved ones were going to.

There were times when we had to call the FBI 

as some calls were requesting very specific kinds of details on maps.

Those were hard and scary.

I know it was best that I walked away from that job when I did.

I was scattered and emotionally spent.

Then in 2006, on this same day
before sunrise, 

and with heavy labored inhales I watched the final breath

 of my beloved grandmother.

She was in her bed, surrounded by family, completely on her own terms.

I had visited and spoken to her two days before.

We just told each other over and over that we loved each other.

It is a beautiful memory above the heartbreak.

This morning, before the sun rose

I got up and shimmed myself into my yoga clothes.

I drove into town for class and watched the sun rise as I 

took deep purposeful breaths with her in my heart.

She died from her lungs filling up...so every time I think of her last moments 

I try and send full complete breathe to her.

I always imagine that would have been the most compassionate thing to give.

A deep breath.

Tomorrow is my nephews birthday, he was born a year later

Life goes on

and on

Side Swiped

So it appears to be baby shower season...at least that is what it feels like.

When I got word of the first one, 

I put on my big girl pants, superhero cape and lasso of power 

and quickly said: 

" I can't go"

It felt powerful and right!

I was quite proud of myself.

What was ever cooler was that my SIL 

(who was throwing the party for her sister)

looked at me and said, OK 

and left it at that.

I was super happy that there was no drama

I made time one day and made the baby shower gifts, 

and packed them up way ahead of the event and laid that to rest.

The second shower invite is coming soon, 

I am not going to that one either.

The baby gifts are made and packed away too.

I have told The Barren so that he is well aware that I will be somewhere else,

doing something else.

Hopefully the mother to be will be distracted by her dozens of guests and not 

fixate on me not attending

(like I am that important)

The two mothers to be are very different, 

one got pregnant quickly and with no assistance

the other one, My SIL's sister, spent years trying and 

eventually got pregnant and was on bed rest the whole pregnancy.

When my SIL told me she was pregnant I was so happy fro her, when she said her sister was suffering from morning sickness I said that is great...I was happy for her, she was finally pregnant!

Her shower was to be tomorrow, she was driving my SIL crazy with her vision

of how everything should be. 

(on a side-note, I spoke with my mother and said that I TOTALLY understood this side of the coin. She has sacrificed her body, her finances, her relationship... everything to become a mother

...and now that she is one, she wants everything to be as she imagined it to be. It is her vision of the dream...she is wanting to be the pretty princess from the fairy tale, the happily ever after)

BUT... her water broke today and she is currently in labor.

Shower canceled.

I am finding that thinking about her becoming a mother has side swiped me with a lot of emotions

I thought I was past...or OK with but,

I was crying earlier...hearing in my head

That was suppose to be you

You will never be that woman in labor

you failed

I know that these are The Barreness creeping in with her spells and intoxicating words

I know that some of those things might be true,

but

I did not fail

The idea of this woman becoming a mother is bittersweet.

In my sorrow I texted her other sister, 

who is also infertile from secondary infertility

Just telling her that I was thinking of her, 

as I am sure today is a mixed bag of emotions for her as well

She thanked me for understanding the pain and emotion of the day.

Meanwhile,

The other mother to be is a rockstar, still doing crossfit at 7+month pregnant

feeling great and happy and dealing with everything like well, it is no big deal

She makes it look so easy

aside from her mentioning in conversations that well " because I am pregnant..."

I can even hang out with her and not want to punch myself in the face.

but today...today it might be harder

I know it will pass

and that a good sweat in class will clear this all out of my pores,

but today, today I just want to be 

free enough to feel my independence from these feelings again

Aches and Pains

I had a pretty crappy nights sleep, 

between being a pillow/couch for the cats (that seem to triple their weight when asleep) 

and a couple night hot flashes it was a rough night.

I felt achy and sore and old.

I sometimes suffer from a ligament thing in my chest, where it feels like the fibers in my chest are being pulled away from my sternum and it makes simply having boobs painful.

This morning was one of those mornings. 4am and the alarm is going off next to the snoring Barren and I sat up and said my morning thank yous for waking up and pulled my butt and sore boobs outta bed, avoiding the bedside table that I have already walked into and gotten in impressive bruise from and the cats on the floor who now have been "activated" into feed me mode and started a new day.

I am trying another new thing...wake up and say thank you.

Start the day with gratitude....regardless of what lays past that in the road for the day....

start with a moment of  "wow, I woke up and I'm not dead today!"

I met with a friend the other day to talk about her ideas for her new business launch and how she would like me to help. She is an all around nutrition, exercise, massage, reiki master kind of gal.

She is re-inventing herself...re-imagining what she wants for this stage of her life.

I was mesmerized and in awe of how clear and sure she was...

I aspire to be clear like that for myself.

I am still treading through some murky waters...

but work every day to clear that fluid of grey matter.

She is tending for her mother who is deep into Alzheimer disease

She is still pleasant and able to have a conversation, she is not able to be alone

My friend has come to a point where she is trying to reclaim some time for herself, in preparation for a long road with a mother who might be around a while but is not aware of who she is at all anymore.

I also got a series of emails from another friend, telling me the horribly sad news of our mutual art  teacher from high school...we all hold him dear in our hearts and he just had a stroke that was triggered by his unknown fatal cancer.

Hospice is with him now and his wife has advocated for him to exit under his conditions.

They are a love story...

One their first date he brought her a corsage

she ate it

he was in love from that moment on

Ironically, someone asked them once why they never had kids, 

apparently they tried but had the RH factor and there was no treatment at the time.

Needless to say, I have had many calls in just as many days with my bestie...she and I were both his students and he is always in conversations still.

The friend that forwarded me the emails sent a sweet note to me that I think sums it up:

" I've had my fill of illness and saying goodbye recently. I'm realizing that 50 is really just the beginning of so many good byes. I treasure you dear friend"

I think we are experiencing growing pains

The aches and pains of reality as we are given this gift of aging.

Thoughts from The Barren

I have invited The Barren to post as often as he would like,

as he is an amazing wordsmith and I love to hear inside his head, 

no matter how painful or sad. As we know, writing can help...so below is a piece he has been working on/through.

 

 



 

I fear I may be hiding within the empty lattice of a working life, focused on getting by each day instead of making this childless life my own. One way I see this is with how I react to questions about our childlessness - specifically that I'm left out of them. The cuts and calloused comments question only the woman I share this burden with, and in being ignored or feared by those careless questioners, the vacuum of any engagement leaves me feeling more alone than I would have expected. That part of me that wants to get angry at someone for the morning-news interrogations merely aches and folds back in on itself, without satisfaction or even the shame of an outburst. Does it rot there, stuck in the folds of itself? Or is it potential energy, waiting to be unlocked with the turning key of a kind or cruel thought?

Irrespective of my anxieties about folded emotions, I like to think it is the panoply of what each of us holds dear in that dream of having a child which gives rise to so many critiques - to the apparently obvious solutions and the baffled, furrowed, even scornful faces that accompany them.

A particularly painful accusation that is made by friends, family, and acquaintances with equal casualness is the "You haven't tried hard enough" comment, though it is never spoken so directly. It can be variously rephrased as a peppy "Don't give up" or the more bard-like rendition of "I had a friend in your situation, and they just kept at it and it was years later but you know what she got pregnant and now they have three kids and they are so happy I mean it's a miracle don't you think..."

There are many tangential lines to that initial focus on work-rate that expand the theme of not trying hard enough - not exhausting all options: "I'll have your baby, use my womb!"; "You should try IVF..."; Have you used egg-whites as a lubricant?"; "my sisters best-friend got pregnant after she went to an acupuncturist...", "I read on CNN that supplement X has gotten lots of infertile women pregnant, you should try that!"

Each solution caters to one or another price to be paid, but what they all hold in common is the end-goal: the acquisition of a child. This focus on the goal warps into pathology for many couples, with the result often being broken bodies, hearts, and unfortunately, many marriages. The goal is achieved! The couple acquires a child - success! And then divorces because of the immense stress and suffering caused by the process. Really? Goal achieved?

Inevitably the conversation turns to Adoption. Why don't we adopt? This question nags at me more than any other that I hear, because it assumes that the end-result is really what matters and moreover for the fact that it derives that end-result through commerce. Our desire was to create through the union of our mind and bodies a progeny, a physical manifestation of our love for one another and an expression of the universal mystery of life. In our case the end-result we were dreaming of was not just the child - it was the child created as a result of our union.

No path exists for us to achieve that end that does not compromise some essence of what is ultimately a matter of spiritual conviction.

The popular counters do little to answer or support this conviction. For example, the standard "...you will come to love them as your own...". A painful twist on this is promoted with heart-felt and honest emotion by the adopted themselves; after all, they can attest to the love and meaning that their parents brought to their life! See? The goal is achieved!

I do not doubt that I would love an adopted child with all my heart; that they would be my child and I their parent with all the associated joy, sacrifice, tears, and elation that any other child brings to the world they inhabit. My wife and I have spoken of our willingness to let such a child into our lives; our willingness to commit with our entire being to such a journey. But to buy into that experience? To go shopping for a child - a human life? To visit orphanages and adoption agencies with the same commercial details you would find in the purchase of a new car? To negotiate on a price? The dark-skinned children cost less. Older children cost less. They have been valued by the market and found to be...less?

I do not pretend to know a better way! The stories of Russian and Chinese state-run orphanages are stomach-churning and convincing enough to avoid any kind of centralized government method for finding good homes for the parent-less. All I know is that I can't participate in the current system. I don't begrudge anyone their participation! I just can't do it myself. This is a price I'm not willing to pay, to put it in the context of that most-common of underlying themes: "how badly do you really want a child?"

So this is the syllogistic critique of the infertile couple: "you haven't tried hard enough / you must not really want a child". It hits at the core pain experienced by an infertile couple - that they are to blame for the infertility - while at the same time trivializing that pain - it's just a decision to really want it, after all...what's so hard about that?

What's so hard, indeed...

Remembered and Celebrated

Source Elizabeth Gilbert facebook page

If you haven't seen her TED talk about being a creative person

drop everything and spend the next 20min being enlightened HERE

 

the amazing sunset

 

I did something different this year and asked the Barren to join me on the anniversary of our first loss

to have a moment of quiet or reflection...

to just take a moment of the day together

and think of the little person that never manifested into a breathing being.

He of course agreed, and we took a sunset drive and ended up having dinner in a neighboring city to get away from the house.

The sunset did not disappoint and with the warm wind and sea air it felt as though we were cleansed.

I had taken time earlier that day to sit and meditate, it helped a lot to center my emotions and sit them into a more blissful state...sorrow seemed to be wrong choice and when I started to cry I found I was laughing as well. It was amazing and radiant.

 

We spent time talking quietly and toasting the ones that could not be with us.

I drank too much to drive and spent the car ride home in a marshmallow of thoughts and giggles.

We celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary (22 years together) two days later.

What a wild ride it has been with this amazing man.

When we woke up on our anniversary, I asked the Barren if it felt like 12years,

he said no, it just feels like it has always been like this.

We have always been together.



Beautiful People

I heard this in class this morning and just about burst into tears.

I needed to share it with you all, my sisterhood

Happy Friday Ladies,

Beautiful lovely people:

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”
― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross 

Remembering

photo: Henri Cartier-Bresson

 

Yesterday was the anniversary of my first of three miscarriages.

I carried this reminder with me all day.

I awoke in the dark and quiet and got dressed.

Cats trailing me like shadows.

I drove in the dark to yoga, and set my intention to be kind to myself.

I focused inward during my practice and felt open afterwards.

My heart wide open, and I could feel the morning air flow through my lungs.

My chest felt uplifted and vulnerable.

I showered and went to get juice.

Quietly stepping over a man sleeping in the early morning dawn on the cement.

(he was someone's baby many days ago, he was someone's little boy....)

 I got a juice for The Barren and caught him before he entered work.

He was already frustrated and huffy before seeing me, and me handing him juice, which was not what he wanted had him roll his eyes and snapped his first words to me.

I held back tears as I told him I hoped his day would be better.

He saw this and lowered his head as he entered the building, like deflated balloon.

With tears brimming, I put a smile on my face and drove away hoping he would not see the arrow sticking out from my chest.

He called and asked me to tell him why I was crying...I was scared to upset his day more and said I was fine. He kept poking and I told him I was tip toe-ing away as he was clearly already mad and I didn't want to feed into it. I told him I loved him and he said he loved me

 and then we hung up to get back to work.

 

Ten minutes later this text arrived:

You are my heart and my soul and the inspiration and sustenance of my flesh.

Mornings like this where we stumble and trip and get caught on the roots of fear and confusion are one of my great pains in my life. I'm sorry. 

 

 

As the day passed I thought of him and how relationships take work.

Sometimes the way you express love is not seen as expressions of love by the other person but simply actions. So the real work in a long relationship is finding the right language/expressions when you want to show love.

 

We joined family that night to carve pumpkins.

By the time The Barren arrived and I had already cleaned the guts out of his pumpkin,

as I know he is not fond of that.

I watched my niece and nephew jab, saw, and carve their pumpkins, focused on creating a master  piece of a lantern! 

I drew a silly simple design on mine.

My pumpkin carving has been lacking these last few years...

We all ate together and as the night grew, The Barren was handed our newest niece to hold.

I saw him hesitate for a moment and then relax into it, our niece put her head on his chest and I could see him relax and then feel the bittersweet radiate from him.

He handed the little lady to me and I sat her to face us.

 The Earl (my brother) watched on...making sure we were holding her OK.

There was a strange quiet that fell over the room, or maybe I stopping hearing anything...

Our other niece sat on my other side and I realized for a moment that I was holding a baby, sitting next to my hubby, and had another child on the other side of me. The Barren made faces and cooed, gentling touching her arms and fingers commenting on how soft her skin was.

Like he was discovering it for the first time.

She eventually went back to her parents and we eventually drove home.

 

At home he asked how it was to hold her, I told him I was fine with it. How was he?

He said it was weird but alright in a way.

He asked how my day was, alright aside from our rough start to it.

I told him I was feeling very open and raw;

I was carrying an anniversary with me that at times during the day felt heavy.

He realized what I was talking about and said he was sorry he didn't remember.

I didn't expect him to remember, me reminding him was all he needed,

all he could really bear at this time.

 

Our wedding anniversary is a couple days away, so we shifted our conversation to that.

How we wanted to make a grand romantic gesture for each other but were coming up empty.

It is feeling a little melancholy these days;  a lock down at work so no one can take days off this coming month, the pressure of the year ending

and the absolute NEED for some time away/tuning out.

 

This morning in class, in the dark, I spoke to my babies.

I told them I loved them and that I was sorry we never got to hug each other.

I know we both could use that about now.