Em on Em – Page 23 – Apron Strings for Emily

14 February 2010

Blessings & Curses

I know it’s a little late, but Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone.

Since Hubby & I knew we’d be spending the day traveling back to Chicago, we had our “date night” last night. So what did we do? Well, nothing special … other than a very simple dinner and a trip to the movie theater to see the latest romantic comedy, “Valentine’s Day.”

The movie was cute and definitely enjoyable. I loved all the different vigniettes and how they were all interconnected (or tied) to one another. However, there was something about this movie that wasn’t quite up to par with my all-time favorite romantic comedy, “Love, Actually.” Maybe it’s the Brit humor, but I just seem to like how that story unfolds better.

Let’s see … what else? Oh yes; Emily is finally “Back in Black.” Meaning, of course that my “Pepe Le Pew” white stripes from my grey hair is finally back to being completely black. Yeah, I know … I really should be dyeing my hair after 2-3 months. But the cheapskate in me doesn’t want to shell out the money to do it.

I know, I know … I could always do it myself; buy the dye from the local drug store and spend a Saturday night “washing my hair.” Except there is no way that I’d be able to dye it myself without getting hair dye all over the counter and floor. At least with the amount of hair that I have, anyway.

I consider myself “blessed” to have a head full of extra-thick coarse hair. And despite the fact that I use “extra-strength” hair dye with all that ammonia and other fumes, my hair is pretty darn healthy. Not that I mean to boast about my hair, but I’ve been told by many-a-person that they would kill to have my head of hair.

Except, with this blessing also comes “the curse.” And my curse just happens to be gray hair. I blame genetics and heredity for my prematurely graying. Both my parents started graying in their late 20’s/early 30’s … and me? Well, I started graying in my mid-20’s; progressively getting worse each year to where I truly could look like the Bride of Frankenstein if I go too long between hair appointments. But at least I have a head-full of hair that definitely keeps my head warm in the winter time!

Anyway, the whole “blessing and curse” thing about my hair had me thinking of my other blessing/curse; especially since today is the day all about love.

First the blessing: I consider the fact that I married my best friend my # 1 blessing in life. And the fact that I found him early in my life is just a huge bonus. Because really … who better to grow up and grow old with, and share all life’s adventures with than your best friend?

And now the curse: No surprise that the curse is our inability to have children of our own. It’s just frustratingly disappointing that Hubby & I won’t be able to experience one of the biggest grand adventures in life. But I suppose that as long as Hubby’s by my side, every day will be a grand adventure.

It’s strange to actually write those last two sentences on my blog. For years, it’s always been about how unfair it was that Hubby & I couldn’t have children. After all we have such a great relationship and would make such great parents. However, the older I get (and the further distance I put between myself and my childlessness), the more I begin to appreciate the so-called “Grand Adventure” that infertility has provided Hubby & me.

It’s because of IF that I’ve begun to realize that life is full of such “blessings” and “curses.” For every negative aspect of life, there must be an equally positive aspect.

And it’s also because of IF that I’ve discovered that life is about finding balance in everything. That whatever aspect or experience in life that might bring us down … there is yet another aspect or experience in life that will lift us up. The key just happens to be in finding this balance.

So I think that’s what I’m going to try to do with every unsettling situation I run into, regardless of whether it’s my personal or professional life (or even my checkbook!). I’m going to try to find the counterbalance in any aggrevating circumstance. Perhaps this will get me more into that Zen state that I’ve been trying to achieve for years …

Oh, and because it happens to coincide with this year’s Valentine’s Day, Happy Chinese New Year to you. May the Year of the Tiger bring you much happiness and prosperity!

13 February 2010

All "Kidding" Aside …

Hubby & I are back in Michigan for the weekend. It’s kinda nice to be back, although I do believe that the weather report exaggerated exactly how much snow that they supposedly got. I mean really … Chicago got a whopping 12.6 inches in 24hrs last week, so I was expecting at least 10-12 inches here as well. But nope; it looks like there was only about 4 inches outside of our house.

It’s funny though, because after experiencing the snow storm in Chicago last week, I realize how much I could actually survive in a city where there is a lot of walking involved. Especially that walk from work to the El station, and the El station to our apartment. Or when needing to take our puppy out for a walk.

Oh trust me, it was tiring walking in a foot of snow, but it’s so different from winter life here in Michigan where the longest walk would be from my car to the front door of my (previous) office building. Or the longest amount of time I’d have to be outside was to shovel the driveway and sidewalk.

Anyway, the reason we are back in town this weekend was to celebrate our friends’ daughter’s 1st birthday. This particular couple has survived the the throes of infertility and have managed to get a totally awesome daughter in the process. A-girl is such a good-natured girl; always smiling and engaging everyone that comes in contact with her. Even in the midst of her birthday party when we could tell she was getting really sleepy, she still would smile and allow others to hold and carry her.

And as A-girl sat in our lap today, both Hubby & I couldn’t help but be amazed with her. We let her play with my iPhone and were quite surprised by how her little chubby fingers could flip through my photo album. Then we let her play Bejeweled 2 for the phone, and were shocked when we saw how successful she was … especially since her dad happens to be the one person‘s score I aim to beat every week on Facebook.

Also at this party was Cutie Girl; the same precocious little girl who always asks us about our dog and our cats. She is so sassy and smart that I can’t help but be taken in by her incredibly large personality.

So, as usual, she spent a whole 45 minutes or so with us, talking about our pets and what we could do to get her “Daddy” to agree to get one for her. I swear, this kid … if she continues to have that fearlessness and confidence about her … could very well be someone important and/or famous in the future. She’s just one of these kids that people just naturally gravitate to!

And yes, I also got to see my beautiful niece Kairi. She is growing so fast now! Except, well … since we didn’t get enough time to spend with just her, she wasn’t exactly in a “playful” mood with her Auntie & Uncle. And that kinda bummed me out.

Part of me thinks that the reason Kairi is like this around me is because she’s just not “used” to us … after all, she only sees us during major family gatherings. But then there’s the other part of me that thinks that the events that unfolded after her birth had a part to play with my relationship with her. It’s like … I don’t know … she unconsciously (or even consciously) knows that there was a major strain between her mom & me immediately following her birth.

I think there’s this incredible Catholic guilt feeling that feeds that train of thought. It’s the same thought I had during my SIL’s pregnancy with Liam and his consequent passing: that the circumstances surrounding Liam’s short life was a result of my feelings of jealousy over my SIL’s pregnancy. And similar to that, my lack of “connection” with Kairi is a result of the loss of connection with her mom following her birth. Realistically I know that none of it is true, but there are those days … like today …that these thoughts are stronger that usual.

I know I haven’t talked much lately about how my relationship with my SIL has been. It’s partly because I’ve learned from certain “foot in mouth” statements that certain things are best left off of Blog Land. But it’s mostly because things have been rather quiet and low key amongst the two of us. I’d like to think that we’ve reached a silent “truce” of sorts … that we’ve managed to move forward in fixing those severed ties.

I don’t think things will ever be a 100% better between SIL and me; but I do know that I’ve since learned a lot about myself since then. And one of them is knowing that I’m strong enough to move past the anger and hurt and resentment I felt for so long. Sure there will always be times where I might just shake my head at certain activities or actions, but I’m quite sure she probably has those same moments when thinking about me, as well. And I’m really, truly okay with that.

If anything, being in a room full of children under the age of 7 proves that I’m finally at that stage in my IF journey where I can start to let things go and accept things for what they are. And it, quite remarkably, feels good.

11 February 2010

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:

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

09 February 201014 April 2010

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.

366 — 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

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

368 — 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!

06 February 2010

Tie-ired

Eesh. I’m frickin’ exhausted. I woke up this morning with the intent of going into work ahead of the rest of my staff, so I could pick up a big Box O’Joe and sweets from Dunkin’ Donuts for all of us. Yeah, something about almost falling asleep during dinner last night should have clued me in.

So when the alarm clock went off this morning, I could barely drag myself out of bed. But alas, I managed to do my usual morning routine for a working weekday … for the sixth day in a row.

Nope. Not bitter at all that I had to go in to work today. Not at all.

Except … Well, I really don’t mind working at alternate hours. Truth be told, I do better and manage things better without a constant routine. I like working “alternative” hours instead of the typical 9-to-5, Monday thru Friday -type of day. I’d rather be doing my work on my own schedule; which could be on a Saturday. At 7 o’clock. In the evening. I’m just more productive that way.

Which, when I reflect on my whole “baby-making” years and the minute-by-minute schedule we had to follow, is rather twisted. Especially since I was never ever able to “produce” anything (or rather any ONE) during those active IF treatment years.

And now that I’m finally in a place to understand a little bit more of the real Emily, it all begins to make sense. Why I was *so* miserable during that time; why I felt I had little control over my body, let alone my life.

And it’s all because I absolutely HATE being TIED to a schedule. To a DESK.

Hmm. Maybe I need to find another line of work … professional beach comber perhaps?