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...

Projections

The other day at work I had this amusing encounter.

Two customers (a man and a woman) that I've met on and off came to the store together. As far as I know, they're not a couple, but who knows? The woman is more or less my age, maybe slightly older (i.e. nearing 40) and from the bits of chit-chats we've had, I don't think she has children. I don't know anything much about the man, but he's quite new in town.

The woman then asked me if Santa came to our place and I was feeling cheeky at the moment, so without thinking twice, I put on a wicked grin on my face and replied, "Yes, but it's a secreeetttt!"

Both the man and the woman went "OooooohHHHHHH!" when they heard that and the woman added, "Is this the kind of secret that will be revealed in 9 months?"

In a split second lots of thoughts were whizzing through my mind. WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!?! Where did that come from? Mental forehead slap! Of course! D'oh! I shouldn't have said it like that!

I immediately corrected her, "No, no, no, no, NOOOOOOOOO!"

Then the man said, "Maybe she's got a Ferrari."

I smiled and said, "Yes, a flying Ferrari!" 

After the exchange, I couldn't help feeling amused with the fact that the woman immediately thought it was pregnancy, whereas the man thought it was a Ferrari.

Writing Challenge: Treasure

Her legs buckled. The soft, thick carpet softened her landing. She slumped back to the edge of the bed, needing support. A long, raw sigh was heard, then her lips began to tremble.

Why did I decide to do this bloody autumn cleaning? she groaned inside.

Her right hand was holding the family heirloom given by her mother. It was an old bracelet made of white and yellow gold with a classic side clasp. Yellow gold lined up the outer rings of the bracelet, whereas the middle part made of white gold had intricate leaf patterns carved into it. Nobody made that kind of bracelet anymore. Her mother had received it from her own mother. God knows where her grandmother had gotten it from, but one important fact remained: she was planning to give it to her own daughter or to her son's bride.

Except that there was never a child.

She hugged her knees, feeling a wave of pain bury her under. No time to escape. The wave came so fast and hit her like a ton of bricks. She squeezed her eyes shut as grief clenched its mighty fist around her heart, making it hard for her to breathe. Hot tears started rolling down her cheeks and soon her sobs broke the silence of the room. Her sobs rose to a crescendo and then she started wailing as the intensity of the pain only seemed to grow. She let out a loud cry of anguish as she looked up and opened her eyes. More wailing, more groaning, back to sobbing until finally the sobbing stopped even though the tears kept on coming.

She felt drained. She stayed there for a long time, going back and forth mentally from her inner self to her surroundings. The tick-tocking of the clock, the subsiding pain in her chest, the neighbour's dog barking outside, the salty taste of her tears, the absence of children in her house, the intricate patterns on the soft carpet, ghosts of self-pity that threatened to come out from the shadows, the annoying tick-tocking of the clock, back to the hollowness inside. Then she hit the brake, wiped her face with the right sleeve of her shirt, and summoned her logic.

"What is the biggest lesson that you've been learning so far?" her logic asked.

"Letting go," she answered.

"And that is what you shall learn again, my dear."

Forty six years later...

I have been living here in this antique shop for a few years, waiting for my new owner to come and get me. Until then, I'm going to make the best of my time here surrounded with many other antique friends, talking about our previous owners and their lives.

This is a piece of writing that I started months ago as my response to a group writing challenge, but I was really struggling with it. It was tough to get inside the character and feel her pain and it was tough to find the kind of ending that would satisfy me (yes, this is a highly personal one). Once I finished writing it, though, I felt that I had somehow healed a tiny part of myself. How uncanny! Healing through writing. :-) I'm going to keep on exploring this wondrous world of writing. :-) 

Random Thoughts on New Year

I've noticed some shifts in my healing journey again. I think the further along the way I am in this journey, the easier it is to take the stand of a witness/bystander instead of the victim/the target. I remember back in the days random words could feel like an arrow shot right into my heart or like a stab of a long, serrated blade, even though the speakers of those words didn't mean to hurt me at all.

The other week I had a conversation with my mom who had been getting in touch with her old school friends. She said that some of them had also lost their husbands, but she was just reacquainted with another one who was living alone (no kids). When she was mentioning the fact that she had no children, I felt that she was sorry for her. 

However, instead of taking it personally (in the past this would make me feel defensive and hurt), I felt like a bystander. The words amused me and disturbed me a little. It disturbed me not because it hit a nerve in myself, but because I thought that this particular woman may not think of herself as a pitiful human being and that's what matters most. If she herself thinks that she has a pitiful life without husband and children and tells my mom about it, then it's a whole different thing. The words also amused me to a certain degree because of the possibility that my mom could be so wrong.

Another thing I've felt lately is about all those things that parents say about children/parenting/fears on child-rearing. Lately I've read some bonding messages between some mothers concerning child-rearing (not smug parenting talk but real sharing/bonding between parents), but I haven't felt what I used to feel anymore. In the past I used to be upset because those words made me feel like I was less than a human being (couldn't understand what they were going through, couldn't empathize) simply because I wasn't a mother. 

These days I think that it's pretty normal/understandable for parents to say those words, because in the same way that those who're in my boat can understand my thoughts/feelings much better than those outside of my boat, isn't it normal for parents to be able to understand more layers of parenting life better than me? I've also been watching how parenting changed people and I noticed that many of them were surprised by the depth and breadth and width of their love for their children and I find it fascinating. I think from an evolutionary POV, it's beneficial for parents to be able to feel this way towards their children. Anyway, from this particular spot where I'm standing, I don't feel that they're trying to disregard my ability to empathize anymore.


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P.S. However, when they say "as a parent" in a public arena, I still feel that it's way too political (I don't like politics), that it's a card that they're playing instead of creating special bonding moments between parents in a more intimate setting.

End of the Year

Nearing the end of the year, my mood has gone up and down. My Christmas mood wasn't spoiled, but I did roll my eyes a few times during the end of the year as lots of movie plots (or TV series) tend to be so predictable when it came to fertility. I was a bit hopeful of the infertility theme in NCIS and was sad as the couple's attempt to adopt was dashed. However, the typical thing happened next. Ugh. And then we started watching "Extant". Another eye roll. 

I think for a long time I've been consciously searching for a representation of my kind of story, the kind that doesn't have the miracle that society expects. Alas, I suppose our kind of story doesn't sell. Oh well...it's probably daft of me to search for something like this. I should know better! :-)

This month we decided to go on a mini break (something we had never done before nearing Christmas) and it was an awesome thing to do in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Christmas. In the studio apartment that we rented, we watched "A Christmas Carol" together and outside it was Winter Wonderland. So peaceful. :-)

And then I was lucky enough to enjoy these lovely views on Christmas Day. Lucky enough because I was ready to go out for a walk when this happened because it only lasted for about half an hour. The temperature that day was -25'C. Enjoy the photos and the videos! The sky was totally ablaze all around me and it was one of the moments when you just forget about everything else...mmm...

Here's one of the restaurants we went to on our mini break. I made an e-card out of it. 

Last but not least, here are the links to the two videos I made:

Xmas #1 2014
Xmas #2 2014

The Two Diverged Roads

The other day I joined an international family Christmas event in which I was surrounded by mostly mothers with their kids. Some of the much older women naturally didn't bring any children, but the younger ones did. There were only three men amongst us. Among the younger women, only my friend and I didn't bring any kids (my friend has kids).

It was a nice event, though during that time I was reminded again about the two diverged roads that we've taken: those of the parents and those that the childless-not-by-choice. There were several occasions during the evening where I was reminded of how much society seemed to expect us to be enthusiastic over children/grandchildren and over child-related events/performances. And it made me wonder if one would be punished by society if one claimed not to be interested at all in all child-related stuff.

Another thing that came up during the evening was the fact that a friend had been meeting another friend for a playdate and naturally I wasn't invited. Mind you, I have no hard feelings at all, but that just brought the gap between us to the surface again. And it reminded me of the kiddos' birthday party photos in FB along the years (including the more recent ones from last week) with my friends in it where I didn't get invited. Again, I want to stress that I have no hard feelings about it anymore (in the past when I still wanted to join the mommy club, I did feel sad about this), but the image of the gap continued resurfacing and it makes me feel a bit disconnected. Last year there was no such an event like this, so I didn't really feel anything much about the disconnection. 

After spending quite some time in my healing journey feeling like we were connected beings regardless of the fact that we had kids or not, the Christmas event and my subsequent reflection on it made me aware of our two different worlds. This is not something I can change, but something I just need to accept. 

I feel that I have done enough to spread my wings and get more friends (international, local, online women with or without children) and I'm really thankful that I have some friends who also like spending time with me who are genuinely interested in my life, but this whole thing makes me realize even more just how much I need my own tribe, as well. So to those of you who are childless-not-by-choice in particular who have been there for me, I'm sincerely grateful for your existence. THANK YOU for being here, being there, being you!!!!!

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost

Healing and Community

I've been lately occupied with so many things in my life that I have been neglecting my blogs in a way, but here I am again! :-) 

I've been thinking a lot lately about my healing journey in particular. You see, when infertility first knocked on my door, I felt like a bird with broken wings (and naturally it led me to have a broken heart/spirit). After all, all the other birds out there seem to be able to spread their wings and fly, but I couldn't anymore. I was desperate to join them in their community, but I just couldn't seem to do it no matter how much I tried. Then slowly but surely my healing journey started and as my wings started to heal bit by bit, I started thinking more about what I wanted from life. Then I met other birds like myself in online communities and they were like the wind beneath my wings. I literally started floating and flying again. And boy, the view from up here is great! No wonder people with problems may need support groups. In a working support group, the broken bird with the broken wings and spirit can fly again!

I've been thinking about how infertility has also helped me feel more connection with the world in general and today as I was browsing through some writings and quotes from Jean Vanier, I almost yelled "Eureka" because it felt uncanny to read something that had been brewing in your mind for a while.

“The longer we journey on the road to inner healing and wholeness, the more the sense of belonging grows and deepens. The sense is not just one of belonging to others and to a community. It is a sense of belonging to the universe, to the earth, to the air, to the water, to everything that lives, to all humanity.”

Source: here.  

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Anyway, I'd also like to report that after more or less 10 months, I've finally got the hang of the new dynamics in my friendship with my friends (the closest friends that I had to downgrade - our mutual solution as I was the only one who had problems with my own expectations). The more I gave them, the more they felt bad about receiving as they knew they couldn't give more. It feels great to finally be able to adjust to this new setting, though it did take quite some time. :-D

Here's another quote from Jean Vanier:

Those who enter marriage believing that it will slake their thirst for communion and heal their wound will not find happiness. In the same way, those who enter community hoping that it will totally fulfill and heal them, will be disappointed. We will only find the true meaning of marriage or community when we have understood and accepted our wound. It is only when we stand up, with all our failings and sufferings, and try to support others rather than withdraw into ourselves, that we can fully live the life of marriage or community. It is only when we stop seeing others as a refuge that we will become, despite our wound, a source of life and comfort. It is only then that we will discover peace.” 

- Jean Vanier (Community and Growth)

Source: here.