Thank you for your comments on that last post. And for the huge insight. I hadn't completely realized that I was grieving in those moments. I know, duh? I never said I was the brightest bulb in the pack.
I realized that for the past two years, from the moment I heard the doctor say, "You are clearly not ovulating." I've been grieving. And many of those thoughts and feelings have made it on to this blog. So I was surprised when I realized that I wasn't done yet.
Actually, looking from the outside, I am justified in feeling that way. Considering, besides you all and my therapist, I've never been given permission to grieve.
On Mel's Friday Blog Roundup she mentioned Julia from I Won't Fear Love and this beautiful post. It may sound silly, but I wish that my religion allowed for a period of grieving such as Julia described. It must be validating and comforting that you are given permission to grieve to mourn. That to me must be invaluable. But, alas, I am sure her Jewish religion (like my own) wouldn't allow me to grieve the idea/dream of my fertility. Well, since I've never been pregnant, I technically don't have a person to grieve, just the idea of it all.
But, I am digressing. Since the point of this post is to say, that those moments are just that moments.
For the most part, I am very happy with our decision to stop treatments. I am mulling the thought of living childfree, and for the most part, it feels right. I feel comforted especially after a chaotic holiday with kids and my husband running around, or a really loud interaction with a friend's family with four kids. For the most part, I leave those situations and think, maybe I wasn't cut out to be a Mom.
I kind of like:
the quiet.
to wake up when I want.
to go on vacation to where I would like and on my own schedule.
not to worry that I have to work this weekend.
my freedom.
In those moments I look more closely and realize that I like the life we have. And after replenishing our savings. Getting to a point that I am comfortable financially - since the treatments and my search for a change have left us looking for refuge. And be able to live the life I want to live.
Like:
be able to fullfill my top ten travel spots. (Italy, Israel, Hawaii, Australia, Alaska, China, Japan, Fuji, Russia, and South Africa)
buy a sports car.
be able to save for a retirement home, since we won't need a huge house and we can buy a smaller primary home.
All of those things, well, they make me happy.
Now that I am just focusing on my plan B - it isn't that bad. I know that I am far from determining what that exactly will be, but I have started to mold it. All I will say for now, it has possibility. And it that is good.
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10 comments:
Sounds like you are in a good place right now! : ) Makes me happy!
I am glad to hear yu say "it is good"
Brava!
Me too!
I've always said plans are good, whatever ones situation. I really hope you manage to achieve half of them, that's one long list, it'll keep you busy thats for sure :)
HUGS X
As you said in your last post, there are moments of grief and of sadness. It is good to know that these are intermingled with happiness and contentedness about the good things in your life now.
Every option has its pros & cons, & it's only natural to feel some sadness over the road not taken, no matter how good you feel about the road you're now on and the possibilities that lie ahead. Glad you are feeling good about your life overall, though!
I think it is good to step back and look at the good that comes out of our struggles. Plan B looks like a nice plan!
I too love the sense of peace and calm. It's great to be able to recognize and respect that. Props to you!
Cheers to Plan B and possibilities.
I think mourning is also very cyclical--it keeps coming back up and needs to be processed.
I echo Samantha's thoughts. With the bad feelings *also* come the good. They're intermingled and at times can be a bit confusing. I'm so glad that you're able to see the contentedness that comes with feeling of freedom, quiet times, financial independence, etc. Having different dreams is more than possible -- it's what I hold dear now. I relish these new dreams in a different sort of way. Thanks for reminding me that I've come a long way. I know you will, too, whatever the future holds.
Whenever I read your blog, especially your most recent entries, I can't help but believe that you'll be fine, and in fact much better than fine, because somebody as thoughtful, kind, and INTERESTING as yourself will never be alone, or unloved. I'm glad that you're feeling good.
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