End of days

Ladybird beetle eating aphids in the garden

I took my exhibit down.

I am pretty spun by this whole experience.

I was gone most of today, a dear friend said goodbye to her grandmother.

I fought tears, as her grandmother was one I had known for many years as well and cherished.

It made me remember all the wonderful and special things about my granmothers and how once they are gone you remember all the things you wanted to talk about and all the things you now have missing from your life.

I miss having grandparents.

These last few days of the exhibit have been amazing, in fact everyday the gallery was open there have been visitors! Amazing and wonderful indeed.

I do think that this was the most visited show the gallery had had.

Tonight, all alone, I packed up the images one by one, pulled the nails out of the drywall.

I pulled every label off the wall and lastly removed the show title from the marquee wall.

It was quiet and the air felt heavy.

I was saying goodbye again, I felt every image again.

Read my words and slowly and carefully placed them into their boxes.

As I picked up the guest book, I saw the names of some family members.

I was surprised to see that they came to see the show. 

Then a message on the home phone, they never call...

A tearful voice was on the other end, telling me how she felt about seeing my images and reading my words.

It has made the whole thing even more surreal.

I met a woman the other day that was starting a new business, an infertility "resource center" of sorts. She wants to specialize in hyponotherapy, she comes from a long history in reproductive centers. 

She asked me very pointed questions and wanted to know what I had tried.

I went thru my list of alternative methods and found myself shaking again.

I was feeling them all again; feeling the loss, the hope that was left by the side of the road, and the pain.

She asked for my thoughts on her ideas and desires for her "clinic"

I made suggestions about what she could change in her wording that might be more on the side of empathy.

I felt like I was talking to the enemy, the pusher, the dream pusher....

She said she had never thought outside the box of the reproductive center thinking, she could see another side now. I am wondering if she really did, or if she was trying to wrap her head around the idea that sometimes you don't get what you work so hard for, risk so much for and want so badly.

Maybe I planted a seed;  maybe she will see that although the other side of the fence really has

 grass, it is just not the kind of grass you wanted, even after watering, fertilizing, pulling all the weeds and spending weekends mowing it.

 Sometimes all you are left with are empty containers of products or dead spots.

I have visited an amazing amount of loss this month.

Amongst this all my period was late again, several days late.

I was pulled so easily thru the thick waters of seduction and dreams, into the delusion.

It was not the case, but I was left mad at myself for being enticed by something that will always evade me.

I think I am still mourning, everything 

Guilt

Infertility has left me with a mountain of guilt.

I spent several hours at the gallery today greeting visitors and watching as they would either come in and say nothing or spill deeply personal stories into my heart.

Today the most feared thing happened....let me back up a little.

When I was getting closer to the show opening I feared that I would be attacked verbally or that my show would be received in a negative light. I did a lot of preparation mentally to ready myself for just that

....I thought.

Today about an hour before the gallery was to close for the day a woman came in and started looking around. I greeted her as she walked into the gallery and said if she had questions about the show I would be happy to answer them. She seemed to be simply skimming the show and so I thought nothing much of her visit. Then as she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of one of my miscarriage images and got her glasses out of her pocketbook.

From here she started to ask questions about what the image was of and then starting looking at all the images and began a half hour talk about how I was paying for things I had done in a past life.

She started in with asking very blunt questions:

Are you a stressed person?

Did you try relaxing?

Did you try therapy?

Did you have tests done?

How many pregnancy losses did I have?

What does my husband think of me?

Did I have a trauma as a child?

The she told me that she had two abortions and now has two wonderful children and grandchildren

Then back to my faults...

I should have past life regression done

I should have my history researched

I should have hypnotherapy

I need to take different vitamins

I really must have done something horrible in a past life

Have I done something bad in this life?

As she left, I realized I had put all my walls up...I had been attacked, I could hear myself saying "interesting" to her suggestions.

 Inside I was screaming and wanting to hide,

inside I was drowning in my guilt.

Inside I was lost.

I was shaken to the core....It has taken me several hours to extract myself from her words.

I felt so broken, so bad, so unsettled.

I came home and simply threw myself into my hubby's arms asking him to surround me,

wanting to feel protected and safe once again.

I don't feel brave

I don't feel strong

I simply feel like a really bad person

I can hear The Barreness laughing at me.

Shock and Awe

I feel like I am floating still....swaying between being awake or asleep, focused or unsure.

I am past my two big openings and I have several pages of kind words about the show.

The newspaper article came out in today's paper.

It was very strange to see my words printed...very strange to realize that someone heard what I was saying. So much of this has been me talking here or in my head...or whispered to hubby at night while lying in bed.

I think I am in a little bit of shock.
I outed myself to my entire community

I stopped by the gallery early this morning to water the plants and check on the work.

I had dreams all night that the gallery owner had sold the walls that my work is on and forgotten that I had my work was still on it.

It was a night of feeling so unsure, so frightened, so unseen or unheard.

Turns out the owner of a local contemporary gallery came by before me this morning and pounded on the doors to see the show as he had read the article in today's paper.

He left his name in the guestbook with the words " Great Art/ Great use of the art process"

He took several cards and told the gallery owner that he knows other people that need to see this show.

I know I am in shock now, as I am not sure how to react to this or how I even feel about it.

Thick of it

I went and sat at the gallery today for a couple hours. In that time three people wandered in to see the show.

Two were college students and one a painter.

The college students wandered in, as the local photography teacher made an assignment of my show (kind of neat) and in doing so has gotten many of his students to the gallery. Both asked me questions, about the work and its meaning. I think they felt a little disconnected from the subject, and after asking questions, felt a better sense of what was going on. Both left kind comments in the guest book about how it helped them think differently.

The painter was moved to tears, she sobbed and said "you really convey loss", she told me she wanted to share something with me, but struggled to get words out....she finally let them tumble out of her

 " I lost my husband less then 6 months ago.

I am a painter and I have a show coming up and I am not sure I can get a show together"

She allowed me to hug her and offer condolences. I was broken hearted for her as well.

She asked how long it took to put this show together and we talked shop about making and gathering work.

She left after sharing many more personal stories with me and crying some more.

I was thankful that she trusted me enough to share her loss and thoughts, and hopefully I showed her that you can still create in the sea that loss creates.

letters....

" Four and Twenty Blackbirds"
Photopolymer etching

I am totally overwhelmed with little letters that are arriving in my inbox....

I am simply a pool of tears by the stories the I am trusted enough to witness.

I am so thankful to know such amazing women

My parents had their private view of the show this evening....both were moved to tears, my father fell silent and had a hard time looking into my eyes, but simply hugged me and told me he loved me. My mother wept openly and loudly, and kept saying I am so sorry. It took my husband off guard, and he became weepy too.

I feel very raw, very soft and slightly afraid.

I am gonna need some waterproof mascara tomorrow night.

All Quiet Tonight...

marquee wall

I spent the day hanging the show in the gallery....totally absorbed and distracted from the emotion.

It was a blessing, as now I am simply tired and numb...

like I need a long soak in the tub but it will never be hot enough, sweet enough or long enough.

I was assisted by a dear new friend whose husband has terminal cancer, she knew this show was emotional for me, but insisted on helping anyways...her heart monitor beeping every now and then.

It served as a reminder for me to simply breathe and be present.

She told me after it was all up that it was a lovely show.

It went quickly, like a wedding after months of preparations.

The I was simply left in the gallery with my work, still cloaked in the plastic covers to protect the plexi from smudges and dirt.

Another new friend arrived and helped me lay the letters on the marquee wall

and

that is when it seemed so much more real.

Now instead of having this in a safe cloistered place, I have neatly framed, hung and lit the moment.

I have displayed it in a room for people to look at and possibly judge, but what I really hope is that I might have also helped someone understand what it means to be infertile.

How it has ruined the party, left a stain on the floor and dented the car.

All evidence that it is there and you can now see it.

Ask questions if you want, I will only give you the truth.

I wanted to make more comments on IComIleave week, so sorry ladies

I confess

I think I made a terrible mistake tonight....I was out to dinner with hubby and was trying really hard to simply relax, as my lack of sleep this last week has left me running on empty.

I am thrilled to have the whole show ready for the gallery but the stress will escalate Sunday and all of next week...so tonight was a "break" a date and a little relaxing.

As we were leaving I saw a woman who I know thru other people and her hubby. She smiled and started a conversation, "are you ready for the show?" I said I was closer and happy to have it open this next week. She said that they were coming to the show as they are personally familiar with infertility too. I said " I had heard, us infertiles seem to know one another" at this I saw the look of confusion and a little shock, then they were told that their table was ready...it was awkward and we said good night quickly and left.

I felt horrible...I have spent the last two days talking almost nonstop to people from news papers and online magazines about my infertility and I guess my sense of social graces has dropped. I need to honor her and realize that she doesn't talk about her infertility or refer to herself in the same way.

We raced home and sent an apology to her:

"Dear sweet lady whom I just barely know,

I realized as we were walking away from our short and very sweet conversation that I might have hurt your feelings...I am sorry.

I should have said "I am sorry that we are in the same crappy sorority". I am sorry that you and your hubby have also not gotten the results you had hoped for.

I have been speaking a lot about my own struggles with infertility,

that I guess some of my filters have dropped and I did not mean to make you or your hubby feel uncomfortable or angry.

Please forgive my misstep in words or actions,

I do hope that you still come to see the show, as hopefully my work will speak better then I did for myself.

The Barreness"

I have made a promise to myself that I will be

far far far better at being present and conscience in my words.

I hope she can forgive me...

Thanks friend

I saw these thanks to "This is more Personal"

they are so bittersweet...although they are funny, they are so right on.

Thinly Coated

My Grandmothers Hands

I am feeling so very raw.

Like I have the thinnest protection and yet I am walking thru a knife shop.

I am proud of my work, I do think it really speaks to the pain and loss both emotionally and physically that infertility makes.

As I look again at the work as I tuck it into their frames and mats...I am moved again.

Frightened and moved.

I simply feel like I need to be touched...that sense that you are not alone,

the quiet comfort, that someone else is there.

I am missing my grandmothers dearly and keep calling to them.

In moments of panic I find myself looking at pictures of them to soothe me.

My grandmothers are both gone from this world.

One a little over 4years, the other just shy of 2 years.

I had very different relationships with each, but both were close ones.

I was terrified when I told them about our childless future.

One simply wept...openly and deeply.

Then never mentioned it again, but asked once if I was still in pain.

The other wanted to make it all better,

she hugged me and sent me a card with money in it

suggesting I go buy myself something bright to wear.

I want to share this show with them...but I can't.

I have already decided to wear something to the show opening that reminds me of them,

a quiet personal reminder that they would be there if they could.

At least that is what I am telling myself

Awakened

I am feeling tired...stressed and tired, but there is still a lot of work ahead of me over the next week or so.

I feel asleep on the couch again watching cartoon, I watch cartoons in order to free my mind before bed and not think of the news or my body or anything.

My night was filled with dreams of testing, medical tests...reliving some and creating new ones.

Running from an ultrasound machine and looking for a bathroom, thru long corridors of mazed rooms. All while finding people I haven't seen since high school and trying to be polite but still needing to pee and all the while knowing that I only had five minutes to get back to the ultrasound room to finish the exam.

While naming my work yesterday, I dove back into the meaning of the piece; the inspiration, the element that drove me to make it. I know that a lot of my dream is about that.

My therapist use to joke that I had the thinest veil between worlds. I am thankful for that...but sometimes it just doesn't give me a break from myself.

I was feeling quite overwhelmed with emotions yesterday, but had no outlets for them. For some reason I wanted to carry them in my hands like a fluffy baby bird, peeking every once in a while at them from between my fingers. Never really opening my hands and letting it see the big sky. I never cried yesterday...but I feel a long soak coming around the corner.

I have awakened all the emotions, fears, troubles and pains from this road.

I know how deep into the woods that road goes.

The Barreness is standing at the entrance, she has candy and stiff drinks to tempt me.

I think I might make a signpost for myself, as I know how seductive that path is...

I do not want to get lost again.

Pick me up

show card

I picked up my prints from the photo lab yesterday.

I had to flip thru the images, to make sure they looked as I had intended.

The first image on the stack is that of a baby stroller, on seeing this, the photo tech said:

 "oh how cute is that!"

this made me cringe a little inside.

As I continued to flip thru the images her conversation turned to how they are the lab that processes the pictures for the crime scene investigators.

 (I thought that was a more appropriate response to images of loss)

She went into gruesome details of what they have seen and processed recently...it left me feeling weak and sad. As I had gone there excited to finally see the work printed.

I left in search of a pick me up...

I stopped by my garden and watered the sad, confused summer veggies and picked a couple baseball bat sized squash.

Then I went back to work and continued dropping off gallery cards to local venues.

When I made my last stop and placed my cards on the podium with the others,

the gallery sitter looked at me and said "I've seen this"

She was excited and frankly it was a great pat on the back!

all that postage and emailing was not in vain

She started telling me about her losses and what people said to her.

The good the bad and the simply mean.

Then she looked at me and said:

 "This is really important and it is a wonderful thing"

I didn't cry until I got back to the car.

Imagine

I am sitting here, trying to figure out details for my show...and trying to ignore the laughter and squeals from little people outside. Enjoying the last days of summer.

Alas, I could bare it no longer and had to see what was making them so so happy. Maybe in an attempt to feel that way too...

I saw a group of girls, all under 12 wearing bathing suits and taking turns running into a fountain of water that is spraying a slip and slide.

They are all so beautiful and unaware of their bodies, simply laughing and playing.

I stood there for a moment and tried to imagine that I was simply looking in on them, checking to make sure all were playing nicely. Sharing and taking turns...

After simply a moment, I felt the warm tears running down my face.

The idea was so so big, like when you realize how big the universe really is.

It was too much, all I could do was simply cry in awe of it.

Nerves

It feels as though every nerve in my body has been touched to a point of fraying.

Like a crazy old wire from a cloth covered cord in the 40's.

I have been bathing heavily in my history for weeks now and although it has been wonderful for my artmaking, it is starting to enter other aspects of my life again...the lack of sleep, the joy that doesn't linger too long, loss of hunger and loss of clarity.

I was talking with hubby and it seems that we are both nervous about the same thing. Watching the reactions of our family to the show. Watching them cry or tighten up and not speak to us again. Well, we know they will talk to us, but making them have to process their grief and loss in a more steadfast manner. My mother already cried at just the image from the gallery card. Hell, how will she or my father react when they see the far more personal work. I am nervous for them as well.

The one year anniversary of my first of three miscarriages is right around the corner and I am feeling the heaviness in my heart.

As I am trying to plan past my show to the next project/art idea, I am thinking about my Dia De Los Muertos altar. I wasn't able to make one last year, but this year I am.

Shortly after loosing the being...I found myself in a shop purchasing a little mexican folk art piece of a skeleton woman holding a baby. It seemed to comfort me, acknowledging our loss to myself. No one wanted to talk to me about it or their feelings. 

With my most recent recollections, I found myself seeking comfort again. My hubby told me that he feels it was and will be again, in some way, some where.  

I stumbled apon the Mizuko Jizo, a Japanese Bodhisattva.

"Jizo is the protector of children, expectant mothers, firemen, and travelers. Most of all, he is the protector of deceased children, including miscarried, aborted or stillborn infants. In Japanese folklore, Jizo hides the children in his robes to protect them from demons and guide them to salvation."

I am not a religious person(that is a whole other story), and finding this information brought me to tears.

I bought the snake oil and I now have a statue and it will be included in this years altar.

Hell, it made me feel better and that is all I was looking for.

I am coming out of the closet,slowly, but going public with our infertility on my other blog and social media sites. I hope it will mean something to someone other then myself. 

Listen & Feel

I live in a very fertile neighborhood....the place spills children out its pores around 5pm.

They run around in circles in the courtyards. I can hear them playing made up games and squeeling with joy at being chased.

I can hear childhood.

I remember mine and remember that I wanted to share it with my own child.

Chase an ice cream truck, walk barefoot when it rained, eat cereal out of a huge bowl in front of the TV on a Saturday morning.

What I hear now, is all those things not happening.

What I feel now is sad and lonely.

Slowly

I still haven't made up my mind about going back onto the pill...so I guess that really means I am waiting until I can wait no more.

I have been sending out press releases to my show since Sunday evening, and building one of the last pieces for it, slowly but surely.

 It is a nest...and I really like how it looks. the display of it is where I am stuck. My brother has offered to help make a stand for it...but did ask what it meant.

It was strange and almost embarrassing to explain it to him, but realized that I might have to do that over and over again. He has no reference point....I embrace his openness when he talks about his children and his life as a father. I in some ways try to image what it would be like to have a similar story to share with him. So and So did this and can you believe they said that, but I draw a blank and stories of the cats' adventures are a pale comparison to my niece and nephews' antics.

At the same time I have been stewing in the emotions of being childless, barren and suffering from an empty womb. I know now, that it is just my hubby and I forever. We need to make new adventures and have new dreams. I have found myself waking up in the middle of the night, just to hear him breathe, so I can have that forever in my mind and feel it in my heart. I can not image a life without him.

We have gone thru battle, we are still walking in that gear, billyclubs in hand, to beat away anything that might challenge that desire.

In many ways I can see my emptiness as temporary, as I have him to walk with. In other ways I see it as vast as the ocean, as it is just him and me.

Rounding the corner

So I realized today that my show falls just about one year from the first of my three miscarriages.

So if the first had taken I would have been holding my own child at the opening.

Instead, this show has become my child, my mission, my distraction.

I am overwhelmed with fears and anxiety about it finally being seen. Will my voice be strong enough?

I have shown the images to my art advisor/mentor and they were very well received. In fact she thinks that it could be a traveling show. In many ways that is wonderful, in other ways it scares me to death! I doubt my own abilities, I question my drive, and I wonder if I have what it takes to make this happen.

I have worked my gut into a frenzy and am on a doctors ordered bland diet and medicine for the rest of the month. I am so bored with food that now I am not eating much at all.

I am happy with the work and making it distracts me from new decisions that I need to make. When I saw the doctor for my gut, she saw the last ultrasound and said we need a follow up ASAP...as the "complex" cyst is something that can be pre-cancerous or nothing at all...like I need to add that to my plate of options right now! Also if it continues to grow poses a risk of fallopian tube torsion. Something that no one had mentioned to me before. I figured it was pretty well set in there and that a cyst would grow....I never thought of it as a dangerous stacking game.

So I have a prescription for pills...and I haven't taken it to the pharmacy or anything...I am just waiting still, I guess. Waiting for the very last minute...waiting until it is glaringly obvious to me that I need to take them again. I am really wanting to avoid that....really wanting to.

I think I am simply afraid.

Hubby and I spoke and we are both in agreement that we passed teh time to get pregnant. It is a sad reality for us both. The dream is really a ghost, we can see it, interact with it but it is not something we can touch.

It marks yet another milestone we do not get to experience.

In the middle of it ALL

The couple from Montreal

I am in the middle of putting the images for my solo show together. I have been having panic attacks and nightmares about this show....fear nightmares mostly.

I am terrified that no one will show, that I will miss a step....I feel totally propelled to make make make....I am reliving my years of infertility while ignoring my most recent need to make a decision about my body again.

~

Turns out the nurse didn't give me all the information about my results, so I am thankful that I asked for a copy of the results again. Turns out I have cysts on both my ovaries and numerous fibroids, the amount was not even mentioned. I feel full of rocks.

~

So I am diving head first back into the grief of all this and making the art I have dreamed of making about my infertility. It is shaping up well and varies from literal to symbolic. I think that it speaks to the many faces of my situation. I have chosen to avoid the easy images, distraught woman or "boo boo" faces.

I have been revisiting all my fears, my deep deep sadness and awareness of the long term reality. My husband is feeling it too....we have a piece that we are working on together and it is bringing up many hard and painful realities for him too, I am thankful that he is talking to me about it.

I don't want him to feel alone about any of this.

After a day of printing images and being covered with ink, I made dinner and settled into a movie. I chose Away We Go, I knew it was about pregnancy and babies and family...and although it was hard to watch, I felt I could process it. Until they met the couple from Montreal....I knew something was amuck...it wasn't until the club, when I knew what was really up and it hit me like a ton of brinks...

I wept openly and deeply and had another panic attack afterwards.

Watching the grief dance and the husband frozen and sad made it all hit home.

Made me feel the sadness of my losses so heavily.

I finished the film and quickly put it into the sleeve, never to watch it again. In a strange way, I don't even want to see Montreal. I am such a perfect movie go-er, personalizing all I see.

Today I am printing some more and starting a new work for another project I am working on, about fading memories.

I am in the middle of it all...in the thick of it, pulling my legs slowly thru the waters of this emotion.

I feel like I am carrying a heavy load, so I move even slower.

Why do I even bother

Waiting

I had my latest Ultrasound today. I drank 45 minutes before the exam and only drank 75% of what I was asked to. I have been on this ride before and I have made a fool of myself too many times before. So I am taking hold of my dignity and making the rules now.

The tech was running late (hence my master plan had already paid off) and I was still uncomfortable but able to talk and move without thinking I was going to loose it.

I made my appointment with a lady and doing so had me wait an extra few days...as there is only a female tech for half the week and a male tech the other half.

The tech was kind and spoke softly and used my name over and over, made me feel like I was more then an uterus and bladder. She pointed things out things of interest along the trip and took a fair bit of time looking around. In her previous career she was a midwife that specialized in high risk pregnancy and was kind and kept saying she was sorry. It made the experience softer, more honest.

She said she had to leave that job because it was so heartbreaking.

" It is always the nicest people it happens to"

At one point on the exam, she turned on the sound and I heard a heartbeat....I wondered what it was like to hear a second heartbeat...beating even faster then your own.

She looked at me and said softly and kindly..."that is your heart."

It made me stop, it made me feel that deep deep hole in my heart.

It made me ache.

The results are already in and the call from the nurse was sweet.

My doctor had already lost the notes on me...and had already suggested I see OB/GYN for further "assistance in getting pregnant"

I swear I need a new doc, bedside manner of a dinner plate.

I spent at least a half of an hour telling her exactly what I wanted noted on my chart.

So as to avoid this situation, this exact situation!

I still have a cyst on my left ovary, but its presence needs to be watched as it has been camped out there for several months and its size and contents have a risk of rupture.

My uterus is enlarged and my there are several fibroids noted of various degrees.

My shape might be bicornate, but it is hard to tell because of the locations of the fibroids.

So now I am here again...40 and looking at the risks and benefits of going back on the pill.

I need to close the salad bar, no more midnight snacking kids.

No kids

Repeating my fears

Maybe it is the upcoming ultrasound, maybe it is leftover fear...

regardless my dreams last night were somewhat comforting, but mostly heartbreaking.

I was on the beach participating in a silent protest, were were all wrapped in wool blankets and had buried ourselves in the sand so we looked like freshly dug graves. Dirt piled mounds.

I was peeking out of my blanket to see if others were doing the same...and after a period of time we all began to sit up.

Someone behind me asked if I had my period...I wasn't sure how long I had been laying with everyone but for some time...and I said "no, why?" and then she said "Oh My God!"

I reached behind myself and felt wet, I pulled my hand up and saw blood; a handful of blood and tissue.

I realized I was having another miscarriage and wrapped myself up in my blanket to walk away...

When I got up I was dizzy and it was then that I realized I was still bleeding.

I wandered looking for someone to help me... I remember my brother picking me up and carrying me somewhere as I was blacking out and hearing peoples voices say she has lost so much blood.

~

At some point I came to a room and my grandmothers were there.

They told me that they would take care of it....

I was in some sort of portal between worlds.

My grandmothers had come to take the lost baby away to live with them.

It was then, that I knew that they were aware of this loss and that they were trying to help me.

Something in the dream told me that there was more then one child they were watching and I began to weep and sway. I passed out in my dream...and awoke.

Quiet

"many choices"

I have been quiet...and I think I am simply processing.

I have graduated from therapy and have been shifted to "call if needed" status.

This is a big deal for me. I think in many ways I am still adjusting.

 When I started therapy 5 years ago I had given up on myself and my hopes,

 I didn't care if I slept days away on pain pills or if I didn't eat.

I was a shell of a person and terrified that if I went into therapy

 I would not retain the very last bits of self that I had left.

I was gladly wrong.

I think I came out of the whole thing with myself, intact and recharged.

Over the last 5 years I learned to manage my grief, my dark depression, my infertility much much better.

I wanted to learn how to not be bitter.

I still struggle daily at times with sadness and anger, but I have the skills to find new ways to deal with it.

I speak a lot more openly about our infertility, and in fact will be having a solo art show that in centered around my personal experience with it.

I have stopped trying to push The Barreness away and instead strapped on the baby Bjorn.

I will always have her on my back; sometimes she will be asleep sometimes screaming demands.