From Disconnection to Connection

It's been so long since I last blogged or blog-hopped. I thought to myself a while back that I probably wouldn't start blogging again, but this week I feel compelled to write again, because I've experienced a huge moment of shift and I need to record it somewhere so that I don't forget.

Shortly after my mom passed away out of the blue last February, I had a strange feeling in my chest/brain. You see, my mom has always been my bridge (communicator) between worlds. She was the one who kept me updated about my sibling and his life as well as our relatives. I suddenly had an image of a cut off phone line upward in my family tree (imagine it in 3D) and my phone line downward is dangling in the air as I have nobody to "call". No more direct connection upward, no direct connection downward ever. I didn't feel depressed, but it felt strange. Hollow. I felt like floating in the air, though it wasn't my intention to do so. I was uneasy, still in the process of figuring out the new configuration and how I felt about it.

Then after a while, images of all those people who had come before me in the vast family tree (whose names I don't even know, so they were simply imagined faces) flashed through my brain. And when family trees upon family trees upon family trees kept on branching or stopped branching, it wasn't hard to notice just how small (or even tiny) one life is when you think of all those histories. My lifetime is but a short breath in the vast ocean of life, and one important thing came across my mind when I thought of the rows and rows of people and family trees with cut off and dangling and connected phone lines. It's the realization that in the grand scheme of life, I'm connected to many people in my lifetime (including those I may never meet in real life, including those who may find my written texts long after I'm gone). Therefore, it's impossible for me to know whose lives I've touched and how meaningful one interaction can be. Heck, a meaningful encounter may also mean that some people learn from my mistakes. How can I possibly know whether some other people have learnt from my mistakes (unless they tell me directly, that is)? My point is that the more I think about meanings in life, the more impossible it is for me to pinpoint exactly what makes my life meaningful (especially since my job doesn't involve changing/saving the world and I don't have kids).

That moment made me feel free. I don't need to wonder about what makes my life meaningful since my life journey is so connected to so many people around the world (through this blog and other social media outlets as well). I just need to be me as authentically as I can be. With all my warts and all. That's it. I'm free to just be me. My life is meaningful enough as a teeny tiny drop in the huge ocean of life. I am enough. Funny how one moment of feeling disconnected can make me feel so much more connected that I ever felt in my life.

Feelings...Nothing More Than Feelings...

Recently I was reminded of something I felt when my mom announced that my brother and wife was having another child a few years back. Even though I was happy for my mom and my brother and his wife (and happy to know that my nephew would have a sibling), there was a part of me that felt a bit frustrated that I was losing my mom to "more grandmotherhood" because I knew she would fall in love with the new child and her life would revolve around the child. And I know that when the grandchild is still young, it'd be more of a challenge to take my mom out for dinner or a movie or both when I come for a visit to Indo because her mind would be all about the child (she was the same way when we were young).

What made me remember that feeling I had a few years back? Well, a friend of mine has just announced her second pregnancy and although I am happy for her and her family, I couldn't help feeling like I was losing her to "more motherhood". One of the first things that came to mind after getting the pregnancy announcement was the timeline of events, moments, and stories that can happen in a child's life. I felt that I was also losing her to more motherhood bonding with the other mothers as they would be naturally swapping pregnancy stories/comparing with the previous one, birth stories, and many more future stories (first day of school, girlfriend/boyfriend, wedding, etc.). The feeling of being left out once more was palpable because I wouldn't be able to respond with my own personal stories.

For what it's worth, she was really sensitive towards me and she gave me plenty of signs beforehand that they had been trying to have a child. She even wrote me first to tell me the news herself before she told the others and I'm very thankful for that, but you know what else I feel? I feel a tad sad that she had to be that sensitive with me because of my infertility history. Her email had a sweet, apologetic tone and it broke my heart a little. I couldn't help feeling "if only I hadn't been CNBC, then she wouldn't have had to be that careful with me when breaking such happy news..."

Yet the second that "what if" thought appeared in my mind, a part of me gave myself a good whack on the head, because I certainly did not ask for this to happen and I'd like to think that if I were on the other side of the fence, I'd be sensitive towards someone in my position as well. It's not my fault, it's nobody's fault. That said, her sensitivity reminded me of the many (side) effects of infertility and I mourned a little. 

Another thing I've realized lately is this: I've been waiting for some (specific) friends to breed and be done with it so that I can have some respite from the similar feelings of losing them to "motherhood/more motherhood bonding", though I suspect that in the far future the cycle may start all over again when they start having grandchildren.

On the flip side, though, I've felt some connection with two different women on two different topics altogether. The first case reminds me that every now and then we all struggle to embrace/remember our innate self-value and to find our own personal mission in life regardless of whether or not we have children. The second case reminds me again that my infertility grief journey is beneficial, irreplaceable even. I'm grateful for these two occasions as they remind me that despite the disconnect I feel sometimes, connection is still available in unexpected places.

'Nuff Said

Grief Connections

A dear friend of mine has just lost her husband on NY eve. It came as a shock, even though I knew he had been sick for a few years.

The other day I had a long text chat with her and it was uncanny how many similarities there were between her grief and my worst infertility grief. When I shared with her what happened during my worst moments (I had never shared these with her before), she said that now she understood what it felt like as she had felt it, too. And when I shared with her the other feelings I felt (anger, self-pity, jealousy, bitterness, guilt, etc.), she began to open up about those feelings, too. She said that she wouldn't wish this experience on her worst enemy and I told her that was exactly what I felt at one point in time.  

Grief connections. If I hadn't experienced infertility, I wouldn't have understood this kind of experience and if she hadn't experienced this loss, she wouldn't have understood what I felt. Granted, the both of us wouldn't have wished to have this kind of connection in the first place, but I'm thankful for this grief connection. This is one of those moments when I believe with my whole being that my pain isn't for nothing and I dare say that my pain is worth it.

Rest in peace, dear friend...