Wednesday, May 2, 2012
You Don't Know Me
I don't know where to begin. So much has changed the last three weeks. My favorite priest at our parish announced Sunday he is leaving to go to, of all places, Jack's childhood parish. He would joke they made a play on the name and called it Our Lady of the Ghetto. Jack was the only white kid at the school so I guess that's how he distinguished himself.
Motorcycle riding is becoming a bigger part of my life lately. I'm easing myself out of my fears and riding my own bike again. On Sunday, we rode to a breakfast place at the local community airport. The parking lot design is a bit tricky. In the past, I would have attempted turns and wiped myself out if I couldn't negotiate the curb. This time I stopped, assessed the situation, backed up with my feet and stayed upright. I consider that a major victory.
Speaking of Jack, I told my husband just how disappointed I am that he and other friends with kids have apparently dropped us. Even Afina has gone AWOL on me. She's easier to get back than Jack. I'm an infertile that actually loves visiting friends' kids. It's like being a grandparent, you spend time and spoil them, then give the kids back to their parents. I guess I could reach out to Jack and ask him how fatherhood is treating him, but I hate always being the one to initiate.
I've regained the weight I'd lost on the Peru trip. For a couple weeks I was unhappy but I'm starting to embrace the idea of a naturally fluctuating weight. I've gained and lost the same five pounds the last eight years. It's just life. As long as my clothes still fit, I'm willing to ride the wave.
I cut my hair into a chin length bob and lightened up the color. I think I do "cute" much better than "sultry" with the long, wavy hair. And there's no more layers which makes styling much faster. I love experimenting with my hair.
TCIE posted something that really bummed me out and sadly, confirmed some feelings I've been ruminating over the last few weeks. I know my comment on her blog didn't suggest how bummed I was, but this is really how I feel. [The following comments are MY FEELINGS and in no way, intended to attack or belittle anybody so please don't take it that way.] It wasn't so much what she wrote about what she thought about childlessness, but the comments from mothers who appeared to patronize the deeper spiritual meanings of childlessness.
I have a big problem with the comments that said [my paraphrasing], "Gosh, it's so touching what you wrote. Not that I have any concept of what it means to face a life with no children of your own, but it's so cute of you to look at the sunny side of life." Now, this is probably not at all what these women meant, I know because you're not mean-spirited. But, that's what it read like to me.
And here's why. There's a schism, a vast divide between those who are now mothers or actively seeking treatment to have a child and those who made the gut-wrenching decision to stop trying or reconcile with yourself and husband the fact that no matter what you or doctors do, you will not get pregnant. For some, this is a stark, biological fact. It's painful. It's a pain that goes beyond temporary infertility. It is a permanent state of a two person family. It's a pain that I will always carry and sometimes will have pangs of regret when I'm 37, 40, 45, 55, 65, 99, 103 (yes, I expect to live that long.) I'm not saying that childlessness is all pain, all the time. It's most definitely not. I had an impromptu karaoke session at a local bar last night while you were home with the kids. I'm sure you had a great time with your kids. I had a great time at the bar.
It's just that you don't get me and I don't get you. I've wanted to diversify my readers and the blogs I read but can't seem, at this point, to get past married, Catholic women blogs. It's not doing anything for me anymore beyond masochistic entertainment. I know that's a strong statement but it's true. I've got to get away. That doesn't mean leaving my ATC blog permanently. I don't know what it looks like right now. I'm disenchanted. I have to move on.