Truth, Death and Mother’s Day

“It’s a pronatalist world and we’re just living in it……”

I knew entering a nail salon the afternoon before Mother’s Day was not the brightest of moves.  It’s about as smart as adopting an indoor porcupine, actually.  I live in permanent mockery of my “poor little first world problem”, as I’ve been known to call it – yet my trips to the nail salon have turned fodder for many a blog post.  For the involuntarily childless infertility survivor, women + mindlessness is never good.  And so off I went, in part because my sweet cousin had just passed away, I was a little shell shocked and knew I’d be on a plane in a couple of days, and in part to treat myself. (more…)

Mother’s Day Through the Eyes of an Infertility Survivor

“Happy Mother’s Day!” my spin class instructor called out.

I lurched to attention, having been yanked from my “spinning zone”.  This weeks’ class had given me time to think and engorge my lungs with prana after a week of little physical activity.  Visions for my future, for this life I didn’t chose, had finally started to creep in and I used the class to focus on them.  And I was feeling GOOD.

“Happy Mother’s Day to you all!” she called out again.  It was only Wednesday. (more…)

#Startasking Eight Reasons Why Asking is Hard

I’ve done my share of speaking out on my trip through infertility and now involuntary childlessness.  I’ve asked my family and friends for support.

I insert my truths in conversation when I’m able.  I educate when I can.  In doing these things I’m habitually asking people for acknowledgement and to be informed themselves. (more…)

“CELEBRATION”

This, and all posts this week are in loving acknowledgement of our children that never got to be and of the dream and life we had to start to let go of on January 31, 2014.

The flickering candle light bounced off the twilit room as sounds of festive chatter surfed through the air. Just as I sat down again at “my” table, my behavior voice beckoned. “Come on S, you’ve got to get to ALL of your guests.” I rose up and dragged myself through the warm, celebratory party space.

As is common with someone who has been traumatized, the gut instinctively pulls you to where you are safe and away from where you may not be. And as is common for someone with such prolonged visceral experiences, remembering to think at all is your version of an afterthought. (more…)

I LIKE MONDAYS

When you layer the holidays over grieving and healing from trauma, life can seem pretty absurd……

It was a Sunday. January 3rd, 2016, to be precise. Sarah Chamberin, 43, sat in her Long Island living room, gratefully absorbing the post – holiday shift. “Ahh, there, THAT’S better,” Chamberlin, an infertility survivor who had just gotten through her second holiday season without her children, said as she inhaled the open space now free from the holiday bombardment of forced splendor. With all Christmas paraphernalia removed, Chamberlin looks ahead. “You know what I like? Mondays. That’s what.” (more…)

Unexpected Benefits of Infertility Blogging

I have a fantasy.

It intensifies whenever I read the Resolve message boards, or someone’s blog in the infertile community, or when I write and post my own story. “People should be reading this” is my ever persistent feeling. I wish for everyone, yes, everyone, to read one blog on infertility, a disease that affects 1 in 6 people of child-bearing age, a disease for which 1 in 8 seek medical treatment. (more…)

Back From the Future

When my mind got hijacked in an assisted living facility

I don’t worry much about old age. I know it’s a common concern for those of us who have ended up without children, and understandably so. Though my lack of caring has baffled me, I’m clearly burdened with enough in other areas so I’m actually glad for it in a way (while it lasts). I figure it’s either because A) I’ve got so much else on my shoulders I can’t see fear I do have, B) I’m far too busy grieving the future I lost to be bothered with apprehensions over the new one, or C) I trust that as a scrappy bitch I’ll figure it out when I get there and hey, besides a decades long future spent cold, starving and naked in a prison camp for a crime I didn’t commit, what could be worse than grieving the loss of my children anyway?

We all have our aspects of this child free not by choice thing that rattle us more than others – it is neither here nor there, worse nor better – it’s simply what is. And our individual triggers do not detract from the main truth that ALL of this, triggering or not, is both profoundly hard and life altering.

So you can imagine my surprise when one day….. (more…)