Life is strange. Not that I had to tell any of you that. It’s an obvious truth that just needs to be plainly stated sometimes.Read more
At the onset of my nervous system disorder four plus years ago, I became intimately connected with the spring phase of my gardens. It somehow served me to meander around and stick my face inches from the earth, securing ring side seats to nature’s first pokes back from dormancy. For the fifteen or twenty minutes that I could anyway. Dizziness, lightheadedness and light overwhelm would drag me back inside all too soon – where I would then be overwhelmed by the darker setting to which my body could barely readjust.
What I remember though was the awe at this phase of unfolding. Never again was I going to miss it, to dismiss it as subtle or to only turn my attention to plants once they became more “obvious”. I recall last early spring stumbling upon something I had forgotten I planted stridently spearing itself through the earth. “You came back!!” I literally gasped in wonder. It hadn’t owed me that, or anything else. But yet there it was.Read more
Around four years ago, in the fourth year coming out of treatments, I found myself in a vehement phase of mourning. The pull towards expressing my love and losses through gardening continued to grow more fervent. It was then I created our candle and flower ritual to mark the conclusion of our final failed attempt – and to chauffeur me through winter in the absence of gardening. I was pulsing on a regular basis with the need for physical symbols that could mark, prove and memorialize. Read more
I used to have this notion of the life that would follow my heavy grief and recovery years. Read more
The psychological trajectory of non parenthood is not a flatline
Over the past year plus now, I’ve been on an expedition with my body. I enlisted in physical therapy due to a shoulder injury, which then spanned, at my urging, to a fuller body physical therapy program to address scoliosis. Between that and osteopathic manipulation therapy sessions, I notice slow but steady improvements. It’s hard, consistent work. And even though my present musculoskeletal issues would likely qualify as minor, I’m choosing for now to keep trekking.
Characteristics that shaped my infertility experiences have resurfaced and this puts me on alert. My persistence, ability to commit, need to see what’s under every rock and general fire – the very things that screwed me in baby making land – have re-emerged within this plight. A scoliosis body carries with it a whiff of mystery, it’s conceptually akin to a Rubik’s cube that never quite gets solved. I remind myself that I am now also equipped with a much softened expectation of cause and effect, an awareness of persistence’s dark side and an honorary PhD in that which we don’t control. With all that, I think I’m ok to keep going.
I’ve gotten the idea along the way that I’m not your average patient. Much of this is due to my alignment based yoga practice and training, and the heightened body awareness that renders. But underneath the surface I feel there’s something else. Read more
Strange things have been happening lately. When I’m out in the world now, something is different.
I find myself catching glimpses of someone I don’t fully recognize. She is emerging full force but I have yet to really see her. Life’s obstacles and hardships can serve as quite the blinders sometimes. Read more
Shrieking expletives soon filled the air of my cozy yoga space, along with yoga blocks boomeranging off the walls and a few crow poses raised in shoulder injury defiance.
This had never happened to me during a practice before. I’m all for working within my body’s limits and even find the excursion intriguing. But something else was going on. And so, as my likely wiser self hovered in the background gently whispering over and over, “Easy, tiger – don’t make it worse”, another aspect of my wiser self knew I needed to let it rip. Read more
Today is my five year blogaversary. Tah – dah!
It’s strange to think that five years ago today I clicked “publish” on this blog for the first time. Read more
I haven’t been playing coy. At least totally not on purpose anyway. I’m well aware of what time of year it is.
The often bargain basement notion of “focusing on something else” has functioned as a dismissive annoyance for the better part of my healing process. “Focus on the life you DO have” – when that was thrown my way for many years people may as well have been poking me with a fire iron. So disparaging and unintelligent in its simplicity, isn’t it? While ultimately that was what I wanted to move towards coming out of treatments (because really, who HASN’T thought of that), the trip from point a to point b is nothing short of a brutal, painstaking labyrinth. And that’s putting it nicely.
Not to mention that when you are putting yourself through the wringer to try to have a child, and when you are coming to terms with the fact you will never be a parent, these things ARE major parts of the life you do have. This is not a trip to Vegas, people. What happens in baby making and involuntary childlessness land does not merely STAY in baby making and involuntary childlessness land.
And there are always those people around you hyped to find you a “distraction”, especially when your pain reaches its peaks and needs to be felt and expressed most. A distraction deemed for you when it is really for them, as if it’s possible to focus on anything else but trying to comprehend your missing children and make sense of this new life you didn’t ask for.
It seems though, I’ve finally figured out an application for the peripheral “focus on something else” modus operandi (perhaps there is a time and a place and a grain of truth to almost everything). Yes boys and girls, so far this year I’ve found that “focusing on something else” during the Christmas season may be my way to go for now.
Please do let me explain. Read more
Healing’s Inherent Discombobulation
For the longest time, I have seen my children in other people’s children. For years, perhaps as many as seven, I have seen what I kept losing and then finally lost for good in other people’s children. There was no even imagining a day when this wouldn’t be.
And now, for the past couple of months, peculiar things have been happening. More and more, images of children seem to be computing as simply children instead of registering in every last cell as an unsolicited cannonball of all that I lost. Read more