My therapist went over the map of grief with me just a few sessions in to our time together last year, it hangs on a board near the kitchen where I can pass by and see it every single day. Basically, you have acceptance in the middle, and it is surrounded by feelings such as depression/sadness, envy/jealousy, anger, longing, etc. As life keeps going, I am moving throughout this map, sometimes sitting between two feelings like envy and anger, and then shooting over to longing, bouncing over to sadness. With each change or shift I may or may not pass through acceptance. This is life daily, monthly, yearly.
The thing that others just don't get, is that in a grief journey, one doesn't end up in acceptance. It's not an end to the journey, but simply a phase that is felt from time to time. As it's not an end, or even a goal necessarily, the feelings of sadness, longing, and even anger are feelings that I will feel off and on for the rest of my life. I may feel them for a minute or for months at a time. It may appear unexplainable to others, but for me, it is completely justifiable, and it is who I am now. Since June 2012. And it's not going away.
In support group (which I haven't attended in forever and maybe need to go to a couple times in the coming months), we all understand each others grief and actions from our grief, even years out from losses. I may be handling everything just fine, but then the slightest trigger will set off a cascade of emotions that I struggle to keep in check. Others in group have complained how family members, friends, even close coworkers who seemed to understand in the early years, begin to wonder when they'll finally be over their loss and just move on. We've all gasped at how disrespectful and uncaring these people have been to our fellow DBC members (a group I wish no one had to join), and I'm sure many, like me, in early years after loss have felt relieved that those immediately surrounding us have not treated us this way. That we've still been allowed our new normal.
Sadly, it seems even my allowed normal has reached it's perceived end point in others eyes. Thankfully, not everyone I hold close to me seems to feel this way about me, but unfortunately, some of the people I see and interact with nearly every day are increasingly making it more and more obvious that they think I'm done grieving, and need to just move on. And I honestly don't know where to go from here. Until now, they've been so supportive, so accepting of who I have become. And yet suddenly, the me I have become is no longer acceptable and harsh changes need to happen in their eyes. They just don't get it. Hopefully they never will.
Everyone's grief journey is different. Some steal away all emotion and become hard as a rock. Some can't hide every emotion they feel. Navigating society and what's accepted as normal is difficult regardless of how one walks through their own grief journey. Especially as society doesn't accept grief as okay.
Sometimes moving forward is difficult. And sometimes it means accepting big and sudden changes.
Moving forward currently is proving to be extremely difficult. But I just have to take life one day at a time. One foot in front of the other.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Friday, May 25, 2018
Thursday, May 3, 2018
Support
As we near the six year mark of Korbin's passing, my emotional state has definitely taken a nose dive. I've mentioned this before, but spring time is the hardest. Despite the outside being so full of lush, green life, my mind mostly just wanders to the upcoming date that is Korbin's anniversary of his passing. Thankfully this spring has been lighter than last year's, which was so exhaustingly dark and rainy. There's been more light to counteract the darkness that weighs over me. And I think this helped me be a light to another couple's darkness from their recent loss.
Before seeing a patient or a couple for their transfer (putting embryos back in to the uterus), we do a quick look through their chart to be familiar with their history. Have they had a transfer before? Was it successful? Is this their first? Their fifth? In the smallest amount of details, we can gage much of their mental and emotional state and how much time we'll be spending with each particular patient. In the past, if we knew a patient had had a similar loss to my loss of Korbin, I had avoided the transfer. The emotional connection has been much to strong for me to even be able to function. The first time we came across one that I had originally volunteered for, I had to excuse myself to recover. And I didn't even do the transfer. Just reading the patient's story breaks my heart. And I'll never forget that couple.
Today, I was it for doing transfers. There were no other options as my coworker who could also do them was doing the difficult ICSI case for the afternoon. I didn't think much of doing the transfers at this point, and saw that the first patient's had had a positive pregnancy test, and one long enough ago to have had a child. Going back further, the first note that jumped out to me is one of expressing condolences for their loss. My heart stopped. Shit. I had to get it together and go talk to these patients, even though I was about to break down myself. Somehow I managed that and walked in and introduced myself. Each couple responds differently. There are those that have had negative after negative after negative and still sit their smiling with excitement about this transfer and possibility. Then there are those who don't even want to talk to you they are so angry with their lot in life (understandably so). This couple was bubbly, but emotional as well. I acknowledged that this is a bit emotional. The husband said, "well, a lot emotional." And I couldn't stop myself but found myself saying that yes, of course it is, and I can understand as I lost my first son. And that I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to make light of their emotional state. The very next question from the husband, as they both broke down, "does it get any easier?" And suddenly I was the one 5+ years out helping these parents in their fresh, new anguish. The self blame, the need for counseling and therapy, support groups, time, we talked about all of it. And in such a short time. My heart goes out to them, and I even said a prayer as I loaded the catheter, "please God, let this be positive for them."
This new experience in my grief journey has definitely left me a bit drained, but also healed in a way. It hurts, god damn it hurts so bad still. But I'm okay. And I can tell someone who feels it so raw and fresh that it will be okay, even when it still hurts so bad. That there can be hope. We talked about P a little bit, and how being part of this shitty group changes the type of parent you are and how you parent. But that's okay too. And it doesn't mean you were a bad parent, but again, that self blame...that's what therapy's for, right?
For me, this was definitely a huge step forward in my emotional capabilities at work. I never thought I'd see the day where I could do a transfer with another loss parent and step away feeling okay, an emotional mess, but okay. And I have done one just once before, knowingly, that sapped me of every ounce of energy I had that day. I was done. But not this time. Time really does heal. So here's hoping this continues, that there's more emotional growth in this new step in my grief journey.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Before seeing a patient or a couple for their transfer (putting embryos back in to the uterus), we do a quick look through their chart to be familiar with their history. Have they had a transfer before? Was it successful? Is this their first? Their fifth? In the smallest amount of details, we can gage much of their mental and emotional state and how much time we'll be spending with each particular patient. In the past, if we knew a patient had had a similar loss to my loss of Korbin, I had avoided the transfer. The emotional connection has been much to strong for me to even be able to function. The first time we came across one that I had originally volunteered for, I had to excuse myself to recover. And I didn't even do the transfer. Just reading the patient's story breaks my heart. And I'll never forget that couple.
Today, I was it for doing transfers. There were no other options as my coworker who could also do them was doing the difficult ICSI case for the afternoon. I didn't think much of doing the transfers at this point, and saw that the first patient's had had a positive pregnancy test, and one long enough ago to have had a child. Going back further, the first note that jumped out to me is one of expressing condolences for their loss. My heart stopped. Shit. I had to get it together and go talk to these patients, even though I was about to break down myself. Somehow I managed that and walked in and introduced myself. Each couple responds differently. There are those that have had negative after negative after negative and still sit their smiling with excitement about this transfer and possibility. Then there are those who don't even want to talk to you they are so angry with their lot in life (understandably so). This couple was bubbly, but emotional as well. I acknowledged that this is a bit emotional. The husband said, "well, a lot emotional." And I couldn't stop myself but found myself saying that yes, of course it is, and I can understand as I lost my first son. And that I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to make light of their emotional state. The very next question from the husband, as they both broke down, "does it get any easier?" And suddenly I was the one 5+ years out helping these parents in their fresh, new anguish. The self blame, the need for counseling and therapy, support groups, time, we talked about all of it. And in such a short time. My heart goes out to them, and I even said a prayer as I loaded the catheter, "please God, let this be positive for them."
This new experience in my grief journey has definitely left me a bit drained, but also healed in a way. It hurts, god damn it hurts so bad still. But I'm okay. And I can tell someone who feels it so raw and fresh that it will be okay, even when it still hurts so bad. That there can be hope. We talked about P a little bit, and how being part of this shitty group changes the type of parent you are and how you parent. But that's okay too. And it doesn't mean you were a bad parent, but again, that self blame...that's what therapy's for, right?
For me, this was definitely a huge step forward in my emotional capabilities at work. I never thought I'd see the day where I could do a transfer with another loss parent and step away feeling okay, an emotional mess, but okay. And I have done one just once before, knowingly, that sapped me of every ounce of energy I had that day. I was done. But not this time. Time really does heal. So here's hoping this continues, that there's more emotional growth in this new step in my grief journey.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Friday, March 23, 2018
Distraction
It started with Bejeweled. The need for a constant distraction. I'd play the game over and over and over again to keep my mind off of my ever present anguish after losing Korbin. As my high score plateaued, this eventually morphed in to checking my emails constantly. Work, gmail, hotmail. They didn't update fast enough. Then Facebook became the best distraction from the constant pain.
Despite the near constant updating found in Facebook, I would actually go through it constantly enough that at times, it wouldn't update. There wouldn't be a single change when I'd hit refresh as I'd seen everything in my newsfeed already. Maybe this is why I started friending people I barely know, instead of keeping it to just close friends and family. I just need something to distract me. TV is not usually enough, and movies don't generally distract enough either. Facebook for a time was just enough, but only for so long.
What's resulted, however, is the bad habit that, when I'm feeling overly emotional or anxious, I just go to Facebook and scroll, and scroll, and scroll. It's become a habit that needs to be broken, and as much as Ryan would tease me about my Facebook addiction, I never really saw it as that until a friend posted on Facebook recently, "What am I looking for?" This is honestly one of the best questions I've seen as of late, and it's one I am asking myself a lot of the time when I find myself turning to Facebook. Because, of course, I still use it as a distraction. In reality, it's just a major time suck that keeps me from being productive.
These days I am in a better place both mentally and emotionally, and yet the habit persists. Even when an article pops up that sounds interesting, I simply open it and save it for later. And yet, I miss reading. Like whole articles and books. So why don't I just read? Or even sew, or sketch, or paint? These are all things I generally feel I don't have time for, and yet, there's always time for scrolling through Facebook. There's always time to be distracted, even from the anxiety that has now developed. It's funny, too, because anxiety gives me nervous energy that makes me need to DO something, and there are most definitely better avenues for using this energy than scrolling through Facebook.
As my grief journey morphs and I find myself in better places, better moods even, Facebook is becoming something that I don't need any more. It's just a matter of breaking the bad habit and moving forward with better ways to distract myself. More productive ways that are fulfilling more so than distracting. Attempting to fill the void at least feels better than just trying to distract myself from focusing on it. It will never go away, so I guess there's a lot of filling to do over the course of the rest of my life, however long that may be. And there are so many productive ways to fill it that benefit others first and not myself.
I can't imagine a better way to distract myself. My family, my friends, and helping strangers are the best distractions to the ever present pain that is the loss of Korbin, so my time is best spent with them and helping others.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Despite the near constant updating found in Facebook, I would actually go through it constantly enough that at times, it wouldn't update. There wouldn't be a single change when I'd hit refresh as I'd seen everything in my newsfeed already. Maybe this is why I started friending people I barely know, instead of keeping it to just close friends and family. I just need something to distract me. TV is not usually enough, and movies don't generally distract enough either. Facebook for a time was just enough, but only for so long.
What's resulted, however, is the bad habit that, when I'm feeling overly emotional or anxious, I just go to Facebook and scroll, and scroll, and scroll. It's become a habit that needs to be broken, and as much as Ryan would tease me about my Facebook addiction, I never really saw it as that until a friend posted on Facebook recently, "What am I looking for?" This is honestly one of the best questions I've seen as of late, and it's one I am asking myself a lot of the time when I find myself turning to Facebook. Because, of course, I still use it as a distraction. In reality, it's just a major time suck that keeps me from being productive.
These days I am in a better place both mentally and emotionally, and yet the habit persists. Even when an article pops up that sounds interesting, I simply open it and save it for later. And yet, I miss reading. Like whole articles and books. So why don't I just read? Or even sew, or sketch, or paint? These are all things I generally feel I don't have time for, and yet, there's always time for scrolling through Facebook. There's always time to be distracted, even from the anxiety that has now developed. It's funny, too, because anxiety gives me nervous energy that makes me need to DO something, and there are most definitely better avenues for using this energy than scrolling through Facebook.
As my grief journey morphs and I find myself in better places, better moods even, Facebook is becoming something that I don't need any more. It's just a matter of breaking the bad habit and moving forward with better ways to distract myself. More productive ways that are fulfilling more so than distracting. Attempting to fill the void at least feels better than just trying to distract myself from focusing on it. It will never go away, so I guess there's a lot of filling to do over the course of the rest of my life, however long that may be. And there are so many productive ways to fill it that benefit others first and not myself.
I can't imagine a better way to distract myself. My family, my friends, and helping strangers are the best distractions to the ever present pain that is the loss of Korbin, so my time is best spent with them and helping others.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Paranoia
My anxiety often leads me down dark paths of paranoia, and this is one thing that brought me to therapy early last year. Now that I have tools to walk myself through these moments, they are just that, a passing moment. Before, they would become all consuming for days or weeks at a time. Did going to therapy stop these dark thoughts completely? No, and that's not the point. What's needed is ways to deal with the thoughts as they come so I can de-escalate myself and remain calm and functional.
For instance, today my mother-in-law watched P while I was at work. About half-way through the day I thought I'd check in on them. Before I could call or text, I noticed an alert on my apple watch saying that the front door had been locked recently. My next thought was wondering if I'd really locked it or not before leaving for work, after she had arrived in the early morning. My very next thought? A serial killer had let himself in, killed them both, as well as the dogs, and if I were able to check a video feed like P's baby monitor, I'd see P's lifeless and bloodied body in his bedroom. Yeah, that escalated quickly. The thoughts are quickly horrific, not likely, and they hit me like a sucker punch to my gut, taking the air out of my lungs. While I know these thoughts stem from losing Korbin and my deep-rooted fear of losing P too soon as well, I can't make them stop. What also fueled my awful thought pathway was seeing via our alarm system app how many times the front and back doors, as well as the garage door, had been opened and closed, locked and unlocked. It just didn't look right and I couldn't reason as to why they would have done that.
Before therapy, this scenario would have left me shaking with anxiety and worry, especially as I didn't hear from my mother-in-law immediately after calling and leaving a voicemail checking in. I'd have been unable to focus easily at work, and would become manic in a random, thoughtless project that "needed" to get done. In other words, I would just try my best to distract myself from my mounting worry, which only made it grow and grow.
Now, as difficult as it seems, and truly is, I actually take myself through the steps of what I'd do if my awful thoughts were reality. If I checked the baby monitor and saw P seemingly dead, what would I do? Leave work immediately with a text/voicemail to my boss. Call 911 as I headed to my car. Pray there was still life somewhere in that little body, in my mother-in-law's as well. Alert my neighbors. Call Ryan. Taking myself through an if-then type process quickly calms me, which helps me to better pass the time more productively as I can then focus on my work until I hear back that everything's great, they were just outside playing in the gorgeous weather we had today and her phone was inside.
My mind makes mountains out of mole hills daily. And though I can't stop it completely, I at least know how to handle it. Before therapy I was quickly going off the deep end of even possibly becoming psychotic from my worries and fears and anxieties. I needed help to control the random impulse thoughts that, really, every person has. Anxiety is part of nature, and it drives many species in their survival. But anxiety can also sometimes take complete control of you. It's why I crave the instant feed-back from a text reply or call back. I need to know and I need to know now. Unrealistic, of course, as life happens and people don't (and shouldn't) always have their phones on them. But, my reality has my phone glued to my hip for constant contact, especially with Ryan and anyone taking care of P in our absence.
I just need to know that everything is okay, all the time, and that P is still here with us.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
For instance, today my mother-in-law watched P while I was at work. About half-way through the day I thought I'd check in on them. Before I could call or text, I noticed an alert on my apple watch saying that the front door had been locked recently. My next thought was wondering if I'd really locked it or not before leaving for work, after she had arrived in the early morning. My very next thought? A serial killer had let himself in, killed them both, as well as the dogs, and if I were able to check a video feed like P's baby monitor, I'd see P's lifeless and bloodied body in his bedroom. Yeah, that escalated quickly. The thoughts are quickly horrific, not likely, and they hit me like a sucker punch to my gut, taking the air out of my lungs. While I know these thoughts stem from losing Korbin and my deep-rooted fear of losing P too soon as well, I can't make them stop. What also fueled my awful thought pathway was seeing via our alarm system app how many times the front and back doors, as well as the garage door, had been opened and closed, locked and unlocked. It just didn't look right and I couldn't reason as to why they would have done that.
Before therapy, this scenario would have left me shaking with anxiety and worry, especially as I didn't hear from my mother-in-law immediately after calling and leaving a voicemail checking in. I'd have been unable to focus easily at work, and would become manic in a random, thoughtless project that "needed" to get done. In other words, I would just try my best to distract myself from my mounting worry, which only made it grow and grow.
Now, as difficult as it seems, and truly is, I actually take myself through the steps of what I'd do if my awful thoughts were reality. If I checked the baby monitor and saw P seemingly dead, what would I do? Leave work immediately with a text/voicemail to my boss. Call 911 as I headed to my car. Pray there was still life somewhere in that little body, in my mother-in-law's as well. Alert my neighbors. Call Ryan. Taking myself through an if-then type process quickly calms me, which helps me to better pass the time more productively as I can then focus on my work until I hear back that everything's great, they were just outside playing in the gorgeous weather we had today and her phone was inside.
My mind makes mountains out of mole hills daily. And though I can't stop it completely, I at least know how to handle it. Before therapy I was quickly going off the deep end of even possibly becoming psychotic from my worries and fears and anxieties. I needed help to control the random impulse thoughts that, really, every person has. Anxiety is part of nature, and it drives many species in their survival. But anxiety can also sometimes take complete control of you. It's why I crave the instant feed-back from a text reply or call back. I need to know and I need to know now. Unrealistic, of course, as life happens and people don't (and shouldn't) always have their phones on them. But, my reality has my phone glued to my hip for constant contact, especially with Ryan and anyone taking care of P in our absence.
I just need to know that everything is okay, all the time, and that P is still here with us.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Friday, March 2, 2018
Blessed
We are, what I'm sure many would consider, beyond blessed. Not only do we have a roof over our heads, but we have soooo much space under that roof. Not only do we have a full fridge, but at times we don't eat food fast enough and have to throw some in the compost. Or we've eaten so much we feel stuffed. Not only can we afford to pay our bills each month, but we put money in to savings and then have extra to spend on silly things. But, we didn't always have this. We have worked so hard, and continue to do so, to afford the basics and the extras. I want to say that I think we deserve the things we have because we worked so hard to get to this place in life, but I still feel guilty at times that we can have so much when others still have so little, if anything at all.
What I never want to do is brag or sound like we're bragging about the extra things we get to have these days. I'd so much rather we just be grateful for what we get to have, and that others can see and feel how grateful we are. And I do my best to be humble, to not be flashy or showy. Which is hard when some of the things we enjoy are larger, typically flashy. Like cars. Cars aren't cheap, and we love them. The aesthetics, the drive, etc. We'll probably always be buying the next best car. But it's also one of our hobbies.
I think what I've really struggled with as of late is how our economic status now affords us even more, and the "even more" tends to be free. For instance, we recently had the opportunity to test out a new system for a company, and to test it we were given a gift card every week to buy things. This lasted for months. Could we afford to buy things like packs of batteries or a new pan each week? Sure. We didn't need the gift cards, but it sure was awesome to get so much stuff (and stuff we actually wanted, key word, wanted...not needed) for free. But why isn't an opportunity like this available to disadvantaged people? Someone who can't afford to buy a couple of light bulbs when some go out in their apartment? Someone who would buy diapers, or formula instead of a few random baking utensils that haven't been touched in months. Instead, those who can do more than just afford the extra fun things are most likely to receive the opportunity to have things that aren't necessary for free. We accept them happily. But at times it definitely feels greedy. And I worry that we just perpetuate a system that only seeks to further separate the haves from the have nots.
But it's not so easy to just flip the system and have these opportunities available to those who have less. How do we choose who gets these opportunities? Sooo many people could benefit, and yet it's usually just a very small subset of people testing out the product.
It's ponderings like this that drive me to do more for those around me in my community and sometimes even worldwide. To give, and always think of those less fortunate than us. To wonder how I, my family, or even my friends, can do more. One small thing we are doing is collecting items for foster children in the area via P's birthday. This kid has so much, and he doesn't need anything more at this point. So this is something we can do for other kids his age who are in need. Because there is always more that can be done.
And because we got a lotta love to give.
What I never want to do is brag or sound like we're bragging about the extra things we get to have these days. I'd so much rather we just be grateful for what we get to have, and that others can see and feel how grateful we are. And I do my best to be humble, to not be flashy or showy. Which is hard when some of the things we enjoy are larger, typically flashy. Like cars. Cars aren't cheap, and we love them. The aesthetics, the drive, etc. We'll probably always be buying the next best car. But it's also one of our hobbies.
I think what I've really struggled with as of late is how our economic status now affords us even more, and the "even more" tends to be free. For instance, we recently had the opportunity to test out a new system for a company, and to test it we were given a gift card every week to buy things. This lasted for months. Could we afford to buy things like packs of batteries or a new pan each week? Sure. We didn't need the gift cards, but it sure was awesome to get so much stuff (and stuff we actually wanted, key word, wanted...not needed) for free. But why isn't an opportunity like this available to disadvantaged people? Someone who can't afford to buy a couple of light bulbs when some go out in their apartment? Someone who would buy diapers, or formula instead of a few random baking utensils that haven't been touched in months. Instead, those who can do more than just afford the extra fun things are most likely to receive the opportunity to have things that aren't necessary for free. We accept them happily. But at times it definitely feels greedy. And I worry that we just perpetuate a system that only seeks to further separate the haves from the have nots.
But it's not so easy to just flip the system and have these opportunities available to those who have less. How do we choose who gets these opportunities? Sooo many people could benefit, and yet it's usually just a very small subset of people testing out the product.
It's ponderings like this that drive me to do more for those around me in my community and sometimes even worldwide. To give, and always think of those less fortunate than us. To wonder how I, my family, or even my friends, can do more. One small thing we are doing is collecting items for foster children in the area via P's birthday. This kid has so much, and he doesn't need anything more at this point. So this is something we can do for other kids his age who are in need. Because there is always more that can be done.
And because we got a lotta love to give.
Friday, February 23, 2018
Killjoy
Unless I'm with my fellow DBC friends, the topic of having kids and being pregnant often leads to awkward questions as people try to include to me, but then hesitate. Why do they hesitate? It's painfully obvious that they don't really want to know more about my not-so-joyful birth experiences. Which is hard as I want to still be included when chatting about c-sections versus labor, and breastfeeding versus bottle feeding. But, our story is so different from the vast majority of the people we know. And it tends to lead to being excluded for being a killjoy in the conversation.
Recently, some girlfriends and I got together to celebrate a friend moving away soon, excited to see her once more before she moves halfway across the country and we see her less often. She has a tiny baby, and so much of the conversation involved new parenting ideas, birth, and experiences. At one point, one was asking about each of our birth experiences, c-section versus natural (and how natural), and she hesitated for a moment before asking me. And when she asked, it was only if I'd had a c-section. Singular. I'm making some assumptions, but possibly hoping to not bring up our first birth story. I answered boldly that I'd had two c-sections. And, as often happens, silence ensued.
Later in the evening, discussion changed to how often or quickly each of us were having our kids. How close together did we want to have them, why that could be advantageous, and how it all was happening in reality for each of us. I said that if we could have more kids, we had wanted to have them close together, boom boom boom. And kind of timidly added that we did want more. Again, brief silence, some awkward moments before another question to redirect was asked and conversation flowed elsewhere.
I'm not sure what I want exactly, as I even have trouble at times dealing with talking about these life decisions. But what makes it so hard for us is that they weren't a decision we got to make it. It was made for us and we're left wondering why all the time. But ignoring and changing the topic, as often happens, most definitely doesn't help matters. It's disheartening, and leads me to withdraw over the course of the conversation in order to not have to subject everyone around me to the other side of raising a family. The side that isn't perfect and involves heartache and loss. But, I shouldn't have to hide my feelings, especially amongst close friends.
It makes me appreciate my friends who have opened themselves so completely to my grief journey. Those that don't shy away from talking about both my boys, both of my birth experiences, and my pain that is coupled with my joy. It means the world to me to be able to have those few moments of true expression instead of hiding what's in my heart. And I find myself gravitating towards those friends more often as experiences like the ones above continue to happen with other groups of friends.
It's okay to ask me if this aspect of child-rearing totally sucks. The part that took away one child and left us with, yes, just one. Just one child that you can see, not the two that are forever in my heart. It doesn't have to derail conversation completely, and talk of loss doesn't have to last for the rest of the evening. That's what therapy is for (thankfully). But, please just allow me my few minutes of grief, to share it with those I love in exchange for support and empathy.
I hope that I am able to provide for others in this way, too, who are dealing with grief. That I can practice what I preach and show availability in my heart to allow others to grieve as they need to even when I find it difficult to hear it. Because it is hard to not focus on only joy. It's a constant challenge, to continually open yourself up to others' pain. But it's possible, and it's so needed by those grieving.
A constant goal to be better for those around me.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Recently, some girlfriends and I got together to celebrate a friend moving away soon, excited to see her once more before she moves halfway across the country and we see her less often. She has a tiny baby, and so much of the conversation involved new parenting ideas, birth, and experiences. At one point, one was asking about each of our birth experiences, c-section versus natural (and how natural), and she hesitated for a moment before asking me. And when she asked, it was only if I'd had a c-section. Singular. I'm making some assumptions, but possibly hoping to not bring up our first birth story. I answered boldly that I'd had two c-sections. And, as often happens, silence ensued.
Later in the evening, discussion changed to how often or quickly each of us were having our kids. How close together did we want to have them, why that could be advantageous, and how it all was happening in reality for each of us. I said that if we could have more kids, we had wanted to have them close together, boom boom boom. And kind of timidly added that we did want more. Again, brief silence, some awkward moments before another question to redirect was asked and conversation flowed elsewhere.
I'm not sure what I want exactly, as I even have trouble at times dealing with talking about these life decisions. But what makes it so hard for us is that they weren't a decision we got to make it. It was made for us and we're left wondering why all the time. But ignoring and changing the topic, as often happens, most definitely doesn't help matters. It's disheartening, and leads me to withdraw over the course of the conversation in order to not have to subject everyone around me to the other side of raising a family. The side that isn't perfect and involves heartache and loss. But, I shouldn't have to hide my feelings, especially amongst close friends.
It makes me appreciate my friends who have opened themselves so completely to my grief journey. Those that don't shy away from talking about both my boys, both of my birth experiences, and my pain that is coupled with my joy. It means the world to me to be able to have those few moments of true expression instead of hiding what's in my heart. And I find myself gravitating towards those friends more often as experiences like the ones above continue to happen with other groups of friends.
It's okay to ask me if this aspect of child-rearing totally sucks. The part that took away one child and left us with, yes, just one. Just one child that you can see, not the two that are forever in my heart. It doesn't have to derail conversation completely, and talk of loss doesn't have to last for the rest of the evening. That's what therapy is for (thankfully). But, please just allow me my few minutes of grief, to share it with those I love in exchange for support and empathy.
I hope that I am able to provide for others in this way, too, who are dealing with grief. That I can practice what I preach and show availability in my heart to allow others to grieve as they need to even when I find it difficult to hear it. Because it is hard to not focus on only joy. It's a constant challenge, to continually open yourself up to others' pain. But it's possible, and it's so needed by those grieving.
A constant goal to be better for those around me.
Because I got a lotta love to give.
Friday, February 9, 2018
#metoo
A few weeks ago, I participated in the Women's March 2.0, which is an amazing show of support for women throughout the world. And not just by women, but by men as well. This demonstration comes again after the #metoo movement started on social media, bringing light to the very real and constant abuse of women throughout every aspect of our lives.
To be clear, I have not been raped, but that doesn't undermine the sexual assaults I have experienced. They did, however, make me very uncomfortable, and only I can determine how they made me feel and what justifies them as sexual assault. The experiences range from early childhood to early adulthood, and are from girls as well as men throughout my life. Some from strangers, some were even considered friends. This #metoo movement brings up a lot of pain and anger for many women, and even men, across our country and world wide. But I am thankful for the ability to speak out, and it leaves me wondering what is next. At this point, we're saying, "you can't just do these despicable things and get away with it so easily any more."
This movement also highlights the deep disgust many feel for our current president. Many will deny this, but his dismissiveness of this ill treatment of women is what allows men to continue to pray upon women in such horrid ways. He makes it out to be nothing, which makes it okay in others minds. And this is just perpetuating a deep rooted problem. It is outrageous that there some in my own family who feel the "locker room talk" excuse is completely valid and appropriate, that it explains everything. Again, this just perpetuates the ill treatment toward women. Seeing comments from family defending this made me feel sick to my stomach. If these men, some of them very close to me, feel this way, how can I trust I'll be okay around them? That if I had a girl, she'd be safe? Certainly by their words there would be no defense of emotional support if something were to happen. They probably think it's the woman's fault. And sadly, there hasn't been any defense or support for those in my family who have been raped. These actions cannot be so easily dismissed. And the lack of support is most definitely not forgotten. It makes me feel outraged, and I've honestly lost all respect for those who stand by this "locker room talk" excuse.
Shortly after the president was elected, one family member posted a meme basically saying that if it's okay for female comedians to speak crudely, then it's okay for the president to speak crudely about women. Other family members chimed in with their "damn straight!!" and "yes, exactly!!" But they are completely missing the point being made by these so-called crude female comedians. It is actually the exact opposite of the crude remarks our president stands by. Crudely joking about being prayed upon is not equal to crudely joking about praying upon women. Being assaulted versus assaulting. They are so blind to this obvious difference. And sadly, all I can do is shake my head and just keep my son away from these people as much as possible. I've unfriended, hidden, removed, etc, etc, etc. I fear these negative influences will lead him astray and he could potentially do something that seems innocent by some people's standards, but in light of the #metoo movement, is crossing boundaries. And then what would become of him? We must teach him these boundaries, and pray that he learns to stay away from these negative influences in his life. There's almost a desperate drive to do this, as a way to protect him as well.
Politics shouldn't divide family, but when it brings out their true colors and degrading view points against the women in their lives, this is when division happens. So, instead of allowing their harsh negative views to enter my life daily, I am now filling my news feeds with the strong and courageous women in my life who inspire me to do more. They continue to put themselves out in to the limelight despite the sexist bullshit they deal with daily. They are fighting the good fight for equality and just treatment. And this doesn't stop with just women, it extends to the POC and LGBTQ communities as well. There are too many marginalized groups in this day and age, and it saddens my heart that we are still having these fights.
But, that's just it. We're still fighting. For equality, for justice, for love, and for so much more.
Because we got a lotta love to give.
To be clear, I have not been raped, but that doesn't undermine the sexual assaults I have experienced. They did, however, make me very uncomfortable, and only I can determine how they made me feel and what justifies them as sexual assault. The experiences range from early childhood to early adulthood, and are from girls as well as men throughout my life. Some from strangers, some were even considered friends. This #metoo movement brings up a lot of pain and anger for many women, and even men, across our country and world wide. But I am thankful for the ability to speak out, and it leaves me wondering what is next. At this point, we're saying, "you can't just do these despicable things and get away with it so easily any more."
This movement also highlights the deep disgust many feel for our current president. Many will deny this, but his dismissiveness of this ill treatment of women is what allows men to continue to pray upon women in such horrid ways. He makes it out to be nothing, which makes it okay in others minds. And this is just perpetuating a deep rooted problem. It is outrageous that there some in my own family who feel the "locker room talk" excuse is completely valid and appropriate, that it explains everything. Again, this just perpetuates the ill treatment toward women. Seeing comments from family defending this made me feel sick to my stomach. If these men, some of them very close to me, feel this way, how can I trust I'll be okay around them? That if I had a girl, she'd be safe? Certainly by their words there would be no defense of emotional support if something were to happen. They probably think it's the woman's fault. And sadly, there hasn't been any defense or support for those in my family who have been raped. These actions cannot be so easily dismissed. And the lack of support is most definitely not forgotten. It makes me feel outraged, and I've honestly lost all respect for those who stand by this "locker room talk" excuse.
Shortly after the president was elected, one family member posted a meme basically saying that if it's okay for female comedians to speak crudely, then it's okay for the president to speak crudely about women. Other family members chimed in with their "damn straight!!" and "yes, exactly!!" But they are completely missing the point being made by these so-called crude female comedians. It is actually the exact opposite of the crude remarks our president stands by. Crudely joking about being prayed upon is not equal to crudely joking about praying upon women. Being assaulted versus assaulting. They are so blind to this obvious difference. And sadly, all I can do is shake my head and just keep my son away from these people as much as possible. I've unfriended, hidden, removed, etc, etc, etc. I fear these negative influences will lead him astray and he could potentially do something that seems innocent by some people's standards, but in light of the #metoo movement, is crossing boundaries. And then what would become of him? We must teach him these boundaries, and pray that he learns to stay away from these negative influences in his life. There's almost a desperate drive to do this, as a way to protect him as well.
Politics shouldn't divide family, but when it brings out their true colors and degrading view points against the women in their lives, this is when division happens. So, instead of allowing their harsh negative views to enter my life daily, I am now filling my news feeds with the strong and courageous women in my life who inspire me to do more. They continue to put themselves out in to the limelight despite the sexist bullshit they deal with daily. They are fighting the good fight for equality and just treatment. And this doesn't stop with just women, it extends to the POC and LGBTQ communities as well. There are too many marginalized groups in this day and age, and it saddens my heart that we are still having these fights.
But, that's just it. We're still fighting. For equality, for justice, for love, and for so much more.
Because we got a lotta love to give.
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