Category: Asian-American

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Dancing on the Jetty

I’m actually writing this post on Wednesday night, hoping that I’d be able to get a “head start” on my next daily post. Well, actually I’m already ahead by one day … which probably explains why I’m feeling as if I’m a day off. Sheesh …

Anyhoo … I’m sitting here at the Border’s Bookstore cafe overlooking State Street. Hubby is at a WordPress Meetup group learning how to post YouTube videos on to a WordPress blog. He asked me if I wanted to attend, seeing that I’ve been primarily blogging off WordPress.com for two years now. I obviously begged off, seeing that I have already (countless times) posted videos from YouTube.

Across the street is the Joffrey Tower, which is the home of the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago. It’s been actually fun watching the activity on the other side of the street, because I can actually see the ballerinas dancing in the rehearsal rooms.

I’m amazed at the discipline that these dancers have. They look so graceful, yet so incredibly controlled. How do they make it look so easy? Of course you’re looking (or in this case, reading) about a gal who is known to trip on flat pavement.

I admire anyone who is that dedicated to following such a career path. To follow their dreams and believe in their craft. Because seriously, how much do you think ballerinas or other performers make in a year? Other than those superstar performers or actors, I’m sure the income isn’t that extraordinary.

But then that’s the Filipina part of me speaking. The “logical” side. The one who constantly here’s her parent’s voice saying, “How will you be able to make a living on a salary like that?” Which then always makes me second guess if I’m every “good enough” or “talented enough” to sustain daily living with what I might (or might not) make.

Then there’s  American “dreamer” in me … that’s the spirited voice who thinks that it takes guts and dedication to do what you love to do in life. To be brave enough to follow your life’s passion … no matter what the outcome is. It’s the same one that thinks that I can do whatever passion I want to in life and knows that I’d succeed.

Unfortunately, it’s the analytical Filipino mind that tends to win out in the end. It’s the voice that tells me that there’s no way I’d survive on passion alone. It’s the also same one that tells me that I don’t even know what I’m passionate about, so keep doing what I know I’m good at. And even if I did find out what I really want to do in life, what makes me think I’ll ever be “good enough”?

What I need to do is:

  1. Find out what I’m “natural” and “good” at.
  2. Determine if this would be something I could be “passionate about.”
  3. Work it into my daily life, and
  4. Keep at it. Nonstop.

Basically I need to have the same amount of discipline and control that these dancers at the Joffrey Ballet have.

Eesh. This means that somehow I need to find a way to tie these two voices together; to merge the best aspects of both of these thoughts (and cultures). I need the mean-spirited mind to push me not to be satisfied with who I am. And I need the “cheerleader rah-rah-rah” part to keep telling me I can do this; I can move forward in finding something I’d love to do.

Wow. This was an awfully rambling post. I promise a better one … tomorrow.

And just so I can prove to Hubby that I can upload videos from YouTube without having to go to a “class” … here’s a video of the view I had of some practicing ballerinas. If you look reaaallly closely, you can see them dancing on the second floor!

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Tied to the Apron

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot of the title of my blog; mostly because of the whole NaBloPoMo theme of “Ties.” After all, what other references are their to apron strings other than being “tied” to one or needing to be cut from one?

But as I mentioned in this page, the purpose of my blog title is in reference to my favorite song and the relationship it had with my longing to have a family of my own. It’s a song that referenced my need to let my “imaginary child” know that he/she would be happy wrapped in my apron strings.

Then there’s the whole use of this song in the movie soundtrack for the John Hughs film, “She’s Having A Baby“. It’s a perfect song for this movie, especially as there is a small bit part in there about the struggles of infertility.

Though what gets me about the use of “Apron Strings” in this movie is that they do not use the original version of the song from the album “Idlewild.” While I understand making the song more “commercially” palatable, I do wish that they would have used the original lyrics to the song.

You see, the movie version uses different lyrics on the first bridge of the song. The movie version lyrics bring on the tone of a woman waiting for the birth of her child. While the original lyrics … well, those are the ones I can relate to most:

Your baby looks just like you when you were young
And he looks at me with eyes that shine
And I wish that he were mine
Then I go home to my
Apron strings; cold and lonely,
For time brings thoughts that only
Will be quiet when someone clings
To my apron strings

These lyrics; they expressed (still express?) the feelings that I have when I see other families with babies … with children of their own. It’s the feeling of wanting … of longing to experience what most other couples, and more specifically, women experience.

And while I’m no longer entrenched in those aching emotions of childlessness, I still have that feeling of wanting to belong. Of not wanting to be so different than others. To get to experience those things in a woman’s life that most women get to share with one another.

Child-free Living is, as Loribeth‘s blog title says is definitely “The Road Less Travelled.” It’s a place where not many people can accept or understand; where the perception is that those people who don’t raise children are purely selfish.

My fave pic of Hubby & our nephew. We were in the midst of IF treatment at the time.

And even amongst those couples who live without children, there is considerable debate surrounding the definition “child-free living.” For some couples, child-free living is defined as the “lack of desire” to have children. While others see it simply as a lifestyle choice. The common factor, however, is that child-free living is a conscious decision to continue a life without children. Now … throw infertility into the mix and there’s even less of a connection to others who may see child-free living strictly as not wanting to have any children.

Sometimes it’s as if I feel that my life is destined to be one in which I am constantly “different” than others. First there’s the whole two-different-worlds, in being a first generation Filipino-American. Then there’s the whole deal of never being able to experience motherhood. And even moreso now, as I begin to live child-free after infertility.**

While I’ve known since November that the title of my blog has since strayed from it’s original purpose, I do feel that the lyrics to my favorite song still ring true. Because now … instead of that longing for a child … I am now longing for the understanding from others that living child-free after infertility was not an easy decision to make. And letting go of these apron strings was/is not such an easy task to do.

So maybe it’s not a matter of “letting go” of these apron strings*. Maybe it’s more of longing for acceptance that my apron strings can be good for other things in my life …

For apron strings can be used for other things
Than what they’re meant for
and you’d be happy wrapped in my
Apron strings

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

EBTG's first studio album ... a classic!

* How do you like my new and improved “About This Blog” blurb? Yep … it was time to change it.

** So here’s a sidebar story … Hubby & I recently started to “branch out” from our Chicago apartment to find groups or events that might be of interest. (About time, it’s been a year!!) When we first started to look for things, we went to this website and looked up local groups. What I was surprised to see was the lack of support for CF Living after IF. But trust me, I found groups for those actively going through IF treatment; and I found staunch “No Kids” groups … but none where I might relate to other women.

Yep … IRL, I must really be all alone. But at least I have all you wonderful folk out there in blog world!

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Common Threads

Not quite the "suprised" look I was looking for in my batch of pics ...

Wow. Oh, wow! I woke up to a great suprise this morning.

Well, okay … technically I was at work where I should have been updating all my staff’s databases for 2010* … but yeah. Instead I was tweaking some stuff on my blog.

Which, by the way. Like the new look? I figured it was time to shake it up a little, as it’s been about two years since I’ve changed my look. (Really, I’d love to do my own little design … but yeah, that would mean the cheapskate in me would have to shell out moolah.)

ANYHOO ... As I was saying, I was on my blog do some admin stuff when I noticed a particular person’s <clears throat> Mel <cough> website URL kept popping up on my “Referrers” section. So imagine my suprise when I found out some WONDERFUL person wrote a little ditty about how much my blog inspires them.

Wow. That just totally blew me away. I feel like I should be standing up behind the magic mike stand (you know, the one that disappears once the person is done speaking?) to thank the entire blogoverse for allowing me to write as freely as I do. And specifically to thank everyone for actually reading my words.

Oh, and did I mention this was all done anonymously ?! So … seriously, *THANK YOU* to whomever wrote such beautiful words about me. You honestly don’t know how much it means to me …

The "Stirrups Queen" herself (with the Tiara) along with me, Io and Aunt Becky (left to right) at BlogHer 2009

Anyway, for those of you that aren’t familiar with Mel from Stirrup Queens … she is one of the ALI (Adoption, Loss and Infertility) community’s biggest chieftans. She is *the* person who has managed to organize the lot of us ALI bloggers under one roof … and she’s typically the one who puts the “shout out” to all of us when one of us in need of good support. That’s why it’s perfect that she used to blog under the name “The Town Criers.”

Okay … so yeah, getting sidetracked here again. But I thought it’s very important for those that may stumble onto my site for a variety of reasons to know where to find a comprehensive list of resources for Adoption, Loss and Infertility.

HOWEVER … I *am* finally getting to the point of this post and how it ties (ba-dum-dum) into February’s NaBloPoMo theme. And it’s this …

One of the reasons I started blogging about my Infertility journey was because I felt extremely alone. I felt that there was no one in my immediate surroundings that would even begin to understand what I was going through. Throw in the fact that I’m Filipino-American, where being a mother is seen as a woman’s main purpose in life and where infertility or loss isn’t ever talked about amongst even the closest of close family members … well, yeah. Let’s just say that, other than my Hubby, I didn’t feel as if I had any support AT ALL.

Visiting Kara in La Jolla, Aug 2008

But as I began to peruse through other IF-er’s blogs, I began to feel less alone … less isolated. And stumbling onto Mel’s blogroll? Well yeah, I totally hit the jackpot.

From there I managed to find a bunch of other bloggers that have since become closer to me in the blogoverse than some of my IRL friends. I’m sure that part of the reason is the vast internet space that separates us; which, in turn, allows us to be more open and honest to each other than those who might even live under the same roof.

So how does this relate back to the whole “Ties” theme for NaBloPoMo? It’s simple.

Sometimes there is one common thread that ties one complete stranger to another one. In my world … specifically my Blog World … it’s my infertility. And now, as I travel down a new path … it’s my decision to live with my husband child-free after infertility.

Again … thank you Miss (or Mister?) Anonymous for such lovely words. Sometimes it’s those little suprises in life that keep propelling me forward … especially in my quest to find the next grand adventure in my life.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

*What can I say? I’m a month behind? And isn’t that the story of my life?!

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Patriotic and PO'd

I am so annoyed. And the thing is, I should know better. It’s not like I haven’t been out and about social-networking for years; so I can’t use the excuse that I’m ignorant to internet-iquette.

Except … well, except there are certain things in life that I guess I consider my moral compass in life. And one of them (amongst many others) has always been the ability that we’ve been given as human beings to make our own choices in life; to reason.

So when I start seeing Tweets or Facebook statuses that are intended to show “pride” or elicit some sort of dark humor, but end up sounding more offensive than anything … well, that just makes think, “What the H*LL were you thinking?”

In other words, did someone I *know* consciously make that decision to post something that might … just might be offensive to other people?

Don’t get me wrong … I’m the first one to admit that I’ve done things just as stupid as what I’m complaining about. I’ve even been called out on the carpet for such stupid actions as well. While it’s not the most pleasant feeling in the world, it has taught me the lesson to think what I’m saying before I speak … er, I mean type.

So what exactly am I PO’d about? Well, this is the status that started it all. One post that says …

“WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Press 1 for English. Press 2 to disconnect until you learn to speak English. And remember only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you, JESUS CHRIST and the AMERICAN SOLIDER. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom. If you agree and have the guts … copy and paste in your status!”

Yeah. I *personally* felt the sting of that one. On many levels. First there’s the whole “You’re in America, so you should only be speaking English.” Well I hate to burst the bubble here, but I believe that the US is considered a MELTING POT of different nations. You know, a mixture of people from different nations that have come to this nation in order to improve the quality of their lives and their families’ lives?

My parents were one of those people. Both came from the Philippines in search of a better life for themselves; a place where they could best make use of their education and talents and share it with the rest of the people in what has become their new “home.” While my Mom spoke fluent English (a primary language taught in Catholic school in the Philippines), my Dad learned it as a second language. And while I can’t *completely* understand what it’s like to learn English as a second language,  I can certainly empathize … especially since I’m “once-removed” from being born and raised outside the US.

And then there’s the part about having only two defining forces that have ever offered to die for me. I make no bones that I’m Christian; or more specifically, Catholic. I also fully admit that I’m not exactly a “practicing” Catholic; meaning that (much to my Mom’s chagrin) I don’t attend mass weekly. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in God or Christ. Nor does it mean that I don’t hold myself to the basic Golden Rule, of which Christianity (and all other religions) is based.

In reality, I believe in the spirituality of Catholicism. I believe that there is GOOD in the world and that if your actions reflect what you believe in your heart to be good … then that goodness will return to you. But on the flipside, I do believe that BAD exist much in the same way. You reap what you sow. By living *my* life under the premise that I should do unto others as I would want done unto myself … well, that’s one of the reasons I *stop and think* about what I say or do before I act upon them. Would what I do hurt anyone else? What are the consequences of what I’m about to do?

Yeah … so to sprout the whole “Christ died for me” lecture in that Facebook status? Gimme a break. That is *NOT* a very “Christian” thing to do.

And trust me … I won’t go into the whole “American Soldier” bit; other than to say that I am patriotic enough to know that these soldiers have given up their “freedom” to keep America safe and *FREE*. And I’m also patriotic enough to know that it was a choice that they made. ‘Nuff said.

So why am I still riled up even though that Facebook status is now more than a week old? Well, it’s because of this status that was just posted on Monday:

“Shame on you America: the only country where we have homeless without shelter, children going to bed without eating, elderly going without needed meds, and mentally ill without treatment – yet we have a benefit for the people of Haiti on 12 TV stations. 99% of people won’t have the guts to copy and repost this.”

Uh huh. Seriously.

Okay I get that, as a nation, we have homeless people and starving children and a health care system that’s broken for our elderly population / mentally ill population. But there is a reason why we are considered a wealthy country.

And when I mean “wealth,” I’m not strictly speaking about *FINANCIAL* wealth. I’m talking about a nation where we have many of the smartest, most progressive minds in the world. I’m talking about a country that shows their “wealth” by giving *every* individuals the opportunity … the choice, if you will … to improve themselves.

Do you think socialist countries afford every person that ability to better themselves? To move up in their station in life? More importantly, do you think that THIRD WORLD countries, like the Philippines or Haiti, are able to provide those same opportunities  to every citizen?

This is when America shines the most; when we provide *our* resources and services to countries that have been devastated by natural disasters. This is when we show exactly how generous a country we can be.

These moments … they are the moments when the words on our Statue of Liberty shine the brightest:

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

As I wrap up this long and rambling politically charged post … let me just remind everyone of one simple fact. Unless we are 100% Native American … we are all “immigrants” to this land. The same soil that has provided our forefathers (and now ourselves) with the ability to forge a new future; the land of opportunity … the land of CHOICES.

So just like our parents / grandparents / great-grandparents, etc who chose to come to the land of freedom (and who may have *NOT* known how to speak English) … choose your destiny (and your words/actions) wisely.

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Embracing Me

There’s this song by the Velvet Underground that seems to always unleash this feeling of nostalgia within me. Perhaps it’s because I “discovered” this song during my freshman year in high school (thanks to my BFF at that time who was also fellow music afficianado). Or perhaps it’s because the song has this uniquely haunting music box melody to it. Regardless, “Sunday Morning” was one of those songs I recall rewinding and replaying over and over again on my Walkman.

Woulda made for a cool album cover, eh? 😛

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it before on my blog, but my high school BFF and I had aspirations of becoming incredibly large rock stars. (Yes, laugh all you want … but admit it, that thought probably crossed your minds at one point during your high school existence!) Forget that I wasn’t the best of musicians around … I just wanted to be part of something creative.

In any case, my BFF and I came up with this incredible idea to form a band. Armed with many years of piano lessons behind us, we sought to find other people that might be interested in creating the same type of music that we liked.

We didn’t have to go very far to find a few people. One person in particular (we’ll call him S), ended up becoming a pretty good friend of ours*. And it’s also because of him that we found other like-minded musicians. Although we never went further than playing “cover songs” of other ’80’s alternative bands, we spent a lot of time at each others’ houses pretending to have “band practice.” And it’s during one of those sessions that I learned to play “Sunday Morning.”

The other night, I had the opportunity to “chat” with S on Facebook. We’ve chatted a couple times before in the past, but nothing other than “Wotcha been up to?” This chat came at a really really nice time, though. One that had me contemplating, once again, what my life was going to be like sans children.

I won’t lie. That thought has been weighing heavily on my mind lately. Sure, I’ve officially made the decision to live child-free (finally). Sure, I know that this decision has lifted a great weight off of my shoulders. Truth is, I know that right now my future is limitless.

The thing is, I’ve always envisioned my adult life surrounded with kids. Lots of them. And the Filipina in me, who always put family first, strongly supported that vision. Being a mother and raising children was going to define who I was.

I say this as an absolute because, although I like my career, I’m not passionate about it. Being a mother … it would have been my life’s passion. It would have been  the pinnacle of my existence.

What does my fortune hold?

With the decision to live child-free, I feel I should be finding a new reason for existing. I have this urge to find out what I really should be doing with my life. While I know I should be embracing this opportunity to wipe the proverbial slate clean, I must admit that I’m slightly overwhelmed.

I could continue with my career path and try to remain successful with each new opportunity … but since I already know I’m not passionate about it, would I be happy later in life? At the very least (knock on wood), I know that this future will provide me with the income that Hubby & I need to survive.

I could go back to school and try my hand at something different; forge a new career path into something I know I’d enjoy. But does this guarantee passion? Does it guarantee success?

Or I could go back to that high school dream of becoming an incredibly huge Rock Star. I’ve always wanted to be a kick-a$$ bass player, a-la-Kim Deal.

I told some of this to S while chatting the other day. And although he did suggest I go out and by a bass guitar right away, he did offer me up one piece of advice. In his always calm and gentle manner, he told me that what I do in life (whether it involves being a mother or not ) shouldn’t dictate who I am. I shouldn’t fight against who I am. He said, “Let Emily be Emily.”

So that’s what I’m going to try to do for now. I’m going to let me be me. And maybe, just maybe, my heart and mind will be open enough to find a new passion in life … a new reason for my existence.

* Ironically, he also ended up being my Jr Prom date, while future-Hubby was my HS BFF’s date. How funny is that?