Have you ever had an old injury that always kinda hurts when it rains or there is bad weather? Or had a wound almost heal and somehow knock the scab off? Going to birthday parties (specifically 1st birthday parties) are kind of like that for someone dealing with infertility.
It's fairly painful and generally not that much fun for us. From the time we get the invitation to the time we leave the party, we deal with a lot of up and down emotions and stress.
I've written in the past about how I just don't attend baby showers anymore, and the same goes for parties. But when it's your family, you just need to go to those. We don't want to alienate ourselves. We just figure out strategies for ourselves and just say we're going to spend time with family instead of focus on the fact that's it's a 1st birthday party.
I worry about everything. I stress about having to buy a gift and whether I dare venture into the baby section in Target. I worry that as I'm attempting to select a gift, I'll begin crying and have to run out. So I just avoid this altogether and just get a card and a gift card.
I worry that at the party, someone will ask me if we have kids. Or ask why. Or joke around and say stuff like, "Ya'll are next!" "Ya'll would be such great parents!" Things like this just shakes our world up (and not in a good way) even though it's not meant to.
I worry about how I'll respond. I worry I'll totally lose it and say something I'll regret. I worry that someone will force me to hold a baby. I worry that I'll walk in and burst into tears. I worry that I will go home and be depressed for a week.
Then there are the realities. The smash cake and excitement surrounding that. Laughing at all the frosting he got everywhere and how cute it is. Then the brick wall that slams into me when I realize it's looking like I may never have that moment. Admiring the cute decorations, the mom opening the presents, joining in halfway, then making a quick exit to the bathroom to get yourself back on an even keel because you started to tear up.
We try our best to enjoy. Like the moment in the backyard when Stewart was on a swing and a cute little toddler walked up to him wanting to swing with him. Stewart gave me that deer in headlights look and I just smiled at him. We both wanted him to pick up the kid and swing. And that's exactly what he did. It was fun and cute and we enjoyed the moment. But on the ride home, I cried a little as Stewart said how great that felt and we both wish it was our own kid.
As we drove and talked about everything that we saw and experienced, we realized we survived. Not only did we survive, we actually enjoyed little moments here and there. Apparently, it's all about small steps. It's also knowing how much to allow yourself to be involved in. It's also about learning to enjoy good moments when they come but also to talk to one another about the parts that hurt and were tough.
We realized we survived a little rainstorm. And although we didn't necessarily dance in the rain, we held each others hand and got through it together.
Infertility has left some scars on us that will probably never truly go away. So, we bandage each other up and keep on going.....
Here is a great little post from the blog of the Reproductive Medicine Associates of Philadelphia.
http://www.rmaspecialists.com/2014/03/infertility-is-like-the-weather/
Infertility Is Like the Weather
Pamela Madsen, The Fertility Advocate (Guest Blogger for RMA Philadelphia)
One of my favorite quotes of all time, by Pema Chodron, is this:
“You are the sky; everything else—it’s just the weather.”
It is easy to apply this thinking to infertility. You are the sky; the rest is infertility!!
I love this quote in the context of infertility because it embodies
the notion that we are not what happens to us. We are not the
tragedies, or the obstacles, or the challenges that we face each and
every day. We are separate from all of that. Just like we are
separate from our infertility.
It is ironic that infertility can be as wild as the weather, and as changeable.
One day we can have calm sunny skies and the next day it can be like
high winds, with trees crashing around us. We can feel like our very
homes are lifting from the grounds and being tossed about. Oh yes,
weather can be the perfect metaphor for infertility.
The thing about Pema’s quote is that we need to remember that no
matter what the weather is doing, we are the sky. The weather may change
around us but we are always here doing our thing in the orbit. We are
solid. The weather changes and the storms roll in and out. The sky is
resilient—it will still be there when the weather passes.
We can’t really control the weather. Sometimes we can’t even predict it. All we can do is do our best to be prepared for it.
But what if we just allowed ourselves to be in it and then let it pass? You know, just like the sky does?
What if we allowed ourselves to stand in the rain and get wet? Or really enjoy the sunny day?
I think that we spend a lot of time in infertility treatment fighting
our feelings and sometimes even the treatment. We can get stuck in
sadness and doubt. And we can also pretend that we feel fine! Nothing is
wrong. We’re not sad! I am wondering about us practicing to stand in
the rain or the sunshine and allowing ourselves to remember that we are
the sku and everything else is just the weather.
Feel the weather. And then notice that the weather passes and changes all the time.
It really is just like infertility treatment . Good news happens.
Feel it. Disappointment happens. Acknowledge it and allow yourself to
grieve. Then be like the earth and allow yourself to release it and move
on because new weather is always on the horizon.
