WOW as in ‘WOW, has it been that long?!’ and ‘WOW, that’s a whole lot of silence!’.
It didn’t feel that long, especially as I’m constantly writing posts in my head. If only they could automagically post here.
I’ve had an interesting few months. I’ve gone through wanting to be so devoted to this space as well as considering deleting the whole thing. I’ve considered changing my ‘name’ and URL as I guess I must admit I’m no longer doing IVF.
I think where I’ve settled is that I still need this space. It holds a part of my heart. And although I’m no longer doing IVF, IVF and loss have changed me. I’m still dealing with that.
So this space will remain. I’d like to focus on the impact of IVF and loss and trying to heal. I think I’ve been living less deliberately than I should. I’ve been trying to keep my head above water for so long that I’ve come to consider treading water OK. It was for a while, but I think I need to start looking at the next part of my life, of our lives.
This post is inspired by Mel’s Microblog Mondays #85. Join in!
Oh why oh why did I blog about having one perfect day? Why did I open my window wide and practically call out for Nemesis to fly in?!
At school drop-off a week or two ago Sparky’s teacher let me know that he’d been a bit naughty at school lately – not listening to adults, doing things that require at least one time out per day. And this after an exhausting weekend that had been hard as he’d been especially demanding, i.e. probably the home version of this behaviour. Sigh.
It’s like a kick in the guts. He was perfect when he was born. So perfect. And I’d gone through so much to have him. What is this now – normal, or have I ruined him before he’s even 5? Yeah I know, silly, but it is where my brain goes.
I wish I could be the oue to have time outs. I’d use them wisely, i.e. drink and sleep.
This post is inspired by Stirrup Queen’s MicroBlog Mondays 81.
Through those long years of treatments I hoped that if I finally had a child I would be a great mum. Actually, I expected it of myself. All of this waiting and pain would ensure that I didn’t take a day for granted and that I would always be patient, loving, and present.
I was on a lot of drugs at the time, most of them hormones, so obviously I was delusional.
Being a mum after IVF et al is, unfortunately, less like being SuperMum and more like being a mortal human. You know, the sort who gets tired, who doesn’t like being ordered around by a tiny tyrant, and who sometimes would like to go to the toilet alone. I know, I know – when I was doing treatment I would have loved to have had not just my dog as an audience while I urinate but also my offspring, but I’ve gone all soft. Most days feel more like a struggle than something worth having wished for for so long.
But last week I had A Day. A Magical Day. Maybe not a perfect day, but a day that gives me hope that maybe I’m not as bad at this thing as I’ve been telling myself.
It was one of those very RARE days when parenting looked almost like I imagined it would before becoming a parent. We went to playgroup at the park in the morning so Sparky could ignore lots of colourful and creative activities to instead play in the bushes with his friend and fall out of a tree. Then we went home to bake biscuits together without either of us getting too frustrated. (Sparky did wander off after the first batch, but that’s probably what kept it civilised.)
Sure, Sparky wouldn’t have a nap, so by the time my husband came home I was ready to hide by myself in my sewing room and not talk to anyone. But the majority of that day was good.
Maybe I am worthy of this tiny human.
This post is inspired by Stirrup Queen’s Microblog Mondays.
I have a couple posts in my drafts folder about the fact I’ll never be able to try for another child. They’re too painful and will probably never be published. Let’s not talk about it.
I’ve read a few posts from people about the pain of not having another child. It feels like a horrible thing to mention when so many others are struggling to have one living child or have given up the dream of having one.
However this is real pain. I’m sorry to say it; it feels selfish to say it is. As much as I hated the stupid IVF torture, I miss the microscopic bit of hope that comes with it.
I can write a new post when I’m cleaning the house, polishing words while I wipe away dust and dog noseprints.
I can write a new post when I’m cooking, relaxing into the auto-pilot of chopping veggies and making All The Things.
I can write a new post while knitting and quilting, letting the rhythm of my hands take over and leave my brain free to wander.
But lately I cannot write a new post while I’m at a keyboard. I immediately freeze. I have too much to say and nothing to say.
I miss you, but I can’t tell you that as I’m in front of a keyboard.
Go give her a hug (i.e. comment).
Here I am. 2016. During parts of last year I didn’t think I’d make it; I didn’t want to make it. December will always be an especially hard month, but I made it through.
I’m not usually one to look at the year ahead and plan and scheme just because the year has incremented. Every day the future is ahead of us; every day the past is behind us. If we choose renewal, we have constant chances for renewal. If you choose to reflect, you can always reflect.
However this year feels different. I spent time yesterday colour coding my diary to easily show what days this year are school days, which are school holidays, etc. School. Only kindergarten, but still – they’re stealing my boy from me. My only living little boy, who I was allowed to take home and cuddle and be frustrated with and love. In one month we’ll have our first and only first day of school.
In case you haven’t guessed, I’m not ready.
Do you know you have a challenge ahead of you this year? Are you one to reflect and to plan?
This post is inspired by Stirrup Queen’s MicroBlog Mondays. In fact, if it weren’t for Mel’s inspiration I’d probably be fighting silence.
I’ve not been feeling terribly well mentally for quite a while. My reserves and resilience are so low. Yesterday there was a rather upsetting incident – and KAPOW – I cannot cope. Today I find out that a childhood friend has cancer – and KAPOW – I’m spinning out.
So I’m also not dealing with things I really need to deal with. One thing that’s looming large in my mind is trying to take my son to another level of understanding of his origins. It’s a strange thing to navigate; it’s not like there are hard and fast rules. However he’s getting to the point where small observations of things could make it a discussion that happens in front of other people – for example if they discuss eye colour at day care. Anyway, that’s in the back of my mind. My husband doesn’t see it as an issue or something that should be discussed, so I’m a bit on my own.
I was asked where we went in Japan, and that’s a safer topic than my thoughts and feelings. We went to:
- Tokyo, 1 week with a day trip to Hakone
- Kawaguchiko (near the base of Mt Fuji in the 5 lakes area)
- Matsumoto, with a day trip to Kamikochi. Wonderful places.
- Kanazawa, which I LOVED. We also had a day trip to Shirakawa-go (AMAZING) and Hida Takayama.
- Kobe (kinda boring – nice, but a big city) with a day trip to Himeji (FABULOUS)
- Hiroshima (exceptionally nice people; lots of foreign school excursions)
- Miyajima, which was FABULOUS. We stayed on the island for 3 nights, and there was still more to see.
- Nagasaki, lovely town – much smaller than I thought it would be.
- Kumamoto, which was a bigger regional city than we expected. The castle area was interesting and the CBD was alive even at night. We mainly stayed here to take a day trip to Takachiho Gorge, which was stunning but smaller expected.
- Kurashiki, which I had randomly chosen as a place to break up our journey. It was a fabulous surprise package – we adored it.
- Nara, which was lovely but we’d seen SO MANY shrines all over Japan that we weren’t as impressed by all of them as most of the people seemed to be. Worth going to for the antlered budda mascot.
- Kyoto – an fun mixture of new and old. We were there a week and could easily has been there at least twice as long.