Shades of Turquoise
Besides catching a movie on Friday night and going to the Lion’s game today, I’ve not been out of the house much this weekend. Truth be told, I had piles of laundry to do and a house that (still) needs a lot of polishing up. But really, the reason we spent most of the weekend at home was:
- The weather’s been incredibly crappy outside. It has been raining, what seems to be non-stop, since Friday night. And …
- I’ve been sitting in front of my computer working on a special secret project (details forthcoming in a later post).
In fact, I’m still working on said project while doing a load of laundry and writing this post. Talk about multi-tasking …
Anyway, the combination of such yucky weather and listening to nice, jazzy music (read: Sade, EBTG, Julia Fordham, etc) has got me feeling a little melancholy. Not the waves of depression that I felt last week (and the week before). Just an overall sense of cheerlessness (is that even a word?!).
I’m sure part of the reason is because we just got word this past Friday of yet another joyful delivery into this world. Our good friends in Oregon welcomed their son, Matthew Elliot this past Thursday … and he looks absolutely adorable. Believe me, I couldn’t be more happy for the two of them. And yet …
As if having two birth announcements within two weeks was’t enough to throw me over the edge … the return of the missing punctuation mark (read: period) from months of Lupron Therapy certainly did.
After I had stopped the injections back in mid-June, I thought that maybe the magic of Lupron might just have “jump-started” my female bits.* And because I also expected that my cycle would return by mid-August and it was already nearing mid-September … part of me thought maybe … just maybe … I could have finally gotten knocked up.
But obviously Mother Nature (and God) once again had other plans.
Hence the shades of green and blue I’ve been emoting for the past few weeks. Because of that, I’ve decided that turquoise is probably my new favorite color. A nice brilliant bluish-green color that reflects my mood.
The most recent place I’ve seen such a beautiful shade of turquoise was the lakes in Canada’s Banff National Park. Now if you’re familiar with this Canadian National Park, you’ll know that it’s located within the Canadian Rockies. The bodies of water within this park are primarily formed by the melting of glaciers. And the brilliant hue of turquoise comes from the mixture of glacier-made lake water and glacial rock flour (rock sediment that has been ground by the movement of a glacier).
Yes. It’s the perfect color for how I’m feeling. Green with envy for what I want, mixed with blue for the sadness that comes with what I don’t have. Glacial for those cold emotions I’ve had for others, mixed with rocky sediment (sentiment?) for the way my relationships with others have been lately.
The fact is, I’m still reeling from the events of these past weeks. And it seems like every time I try to float to the top to catch my breath … yet another event happens that pushes me back under water.
So forgive me for once again, being downcast. I am trying to shake this feeling of sorrow. And one day, hopefully sooner than later, these shades of turquoise will fade.
* As Lupron would while using it short term prior to an IVF cycle, or even “plain old” medicated-cycles, for that matter.
Not Really In Your Head
Rollercoaster
I still haven’t got over it even now
I want to spend huge amounts of time on my own
I don’t want to cause any serious damage
I want to make sure that I can manage
because I’m not really in your head
I’m not really in your head
And I see love and disaffection
and the clouds build up and won’t pass over
This is my road to my redemption
And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway
I still haven’t got over it even now
I want to spend huge amounts of time in my room
And I’m not coming out until I feel ready
not running out for a while my heart’s unsteady
and I’m not really in your head
I’m not really in your head
When your sky falls to minus zero
well some things must disappear
Oh this is my road to my redemption
And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway
The names may have been changed
but the faces are the same
The names may have been changed
but as people we’re not the same
And I’m not, no I’m not, no I’m not really in your head
And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway
Yeah, my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway
— Words & Music by Everything But The Girl
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Recharged
Last week went by in such a blur; not so much because it was a short work week from having Labor Day off. I think it had more to do with the emotional downfall I seemed to be experiencing since the days before Kairi’s birth.
Yes, I sucked at trying to stay off the not-so-amusement park ride, otherwise known as the roller coaster of infertility.
But today … this week … I am making an effort to pick myself up and move right along. As to where I might be moving along to on this IF journey still remains to be seen. I still have a lot of “issues” to work out before I can completely move on.
This relatively small turn in tides is due to a few things that have happened as of late. First of all, writing this post was certainly cathartic, despite the brief bit of guilt I felt for about three days after posting it.
Then there were those readers … those friends … who actually made the effort to comment on both of those posts. Your words do mean a lot to me and I do take what all you say very much to heart. It shows to me that, despite the ramblings of anger, sadness, guilt and confusion, I’m not alone in feeling or expressing them. To me, that makes me feel less of a silly, pathetic person who “obviously can’t let go” and more of a real person with justified thoughts for all those emotions. I cannot thank each and every one of you enough for all your kind words.
And not that I’m fishing for more comments about my posts … but for those IRL friends and even those that may just be “lurking” … trust me, a simple acknowledgement (whether by comment or quick email) to those bloggers that may be calling out for some love or support goes a LOOOONG way. And you never know, this may be the only way a blogger is able to let you in past the brick wall he or she may have inadvertently built around his- or herself.
The last thing that helped me get through this difficult time was a quick trip to London, Ontario to attend LJC‘s bridal shower this past weekend. The two-hour drive one-way would be the first time I’ve ever made that trip by my lone self. During my childhood, the trip was made with family. And in the later years, it would always be with Hubby.
Hubby was supposed to be with me on this road trip. However, a last minute decision (like less than 2 weeks) on his family’s part to throw a surprise birthday party for his mom on the same day as the shower threw off those plans.
Part of me was honestly kinda ticked at that. We had already made plans to make the trip to London to do a quick getaway from “things.” And when I mean “things,” I mean that we knew that the weekend before would be surrounded by “all things baby.” Not that we didn’t want to be there to meet Kairi and congratulate the proud parents, but we knew … at least I knew … that I would need to step back and recharge our emotional batteries.
Because I knew that, even though we made the effort to physically visit SIL and Kairi twice while they were in the hospital, seeing that vision of “Mom and Baby” would stick with me (and to some extent, Hubby) emotionally long after we kissed and said goodbye to them.
But now it was just going to be me going to London. And poor Hubby was going to stay at home and help out with the surprise party. And the introduction of Kairi to the rest of the family. Hubby, unfortunately, would have to deal with the family & friends ooh-ing and ahh-ing over Kairi (rightly so, by the way … did you see how cute she is?!) and then turning to him to say, “Still no kids for you, huh?”
So yeah, that’s what ticked me off. And what also made me feel guilty for leaving Hubby there to fend for himself.
I also can’t deny that I was also excited to go to London by myself, either. This quick overnight jaunt to visit with the cousins I always felt were the “sisters I never had” … Well, this would be the first time in a long time that it would be “just the girls.” It would give us the opportunity to talk about “girl things” and other things that we haven’t been able to talk about in a very long time.
And although I didn’t get to spend as much time with LJC, as she already had other wedding-planning related plans, there was still a good time to be had. Also, the one “sister” from Calgary wasn’t able to make the shower either. But despite this, I was still able to spend lots of time with the youngest “sister” and her Mom (my Uncle’s wife) and her Mom’s two sisters. And while it may sound strange … for the longest time, I thought that my cousin’s aunts were also my aunts by blood as well.
So after all the guests had left and the dishes cleaned, it was no surprise that we all sat down in the kitchen to relax. After all, that’s where I can remember many long conversations and discussions taking place in my youth. Except this time I’m much older, as is my youngest “sister.” And we’re talking about American and Canadian politics. And infertility. And all of my “aunts” and my “sister” are asking me honest-to-God actual questions and actually looking at me and responding to me at the appropriate times.
Yup, that’s right. These family members that I haven’t had much contact outside of weddings (and more weddings) over the past ten years were genuinely interested to know how I was doing, and how I was dealing with things. Real people. Right in front of me. Showing empathy and compassion for me. What. A Breath. Of. Fresh. Air.
And at exactly the right time that I needed it, too.
It was precisely what I needed to energize my batteries so I could still keep going (and going and going) …
Dirty Laundry
First of all, thank you for all that have commented on my last post. Your words have made me feel as if I’m not a complete a**hole for writing what I wrote. Because for a while there I felt that I was completely off-base and horrible to have said some of those things “out loud.” And to some extent, I still do feel that way.
I’m sure that this guilt stems from not only my formative years in Catholic school, but from my cultural upbringing as well.
I’ve found out (from the years of working as an RN, alongside many other Filipinos) that most people perceive that Filipinos are hard workers and, no matter what gets thrown at them, they are always happy.
Well, let me let you in on a clue … That’s because Filipinos are expected to be happy. Or at least appear to be happy.
In my experience, Filipinos are expected to hide any emotions that appear negative. So if we’re feeling sad, then the expectation is to hide that sadness. And (again) in my experience, the way that Filipinos hide that sadness is by focusing their energy on something that will “distract” them from feeling such sadness. And to me, that’s probably where the “Filipinos are hard-workers” perception probably comes from.
Because of that expectation to always appear happy, many Filipinos are not willing to talk about their sadness. It’s that whole “saving face” issue. Expressing any negative emotions out loud would “doom” us to a life of isolation. We’d lose that ability to be amongst the “norm” of society. We’d be different and therefore others cannot relate to us or talk to us because they don’t know what to say or how to act.
And because sadness and anger make others feel uncomfortable, saying these things out loud … or God forbid, even just looking or appearing despondent … is considered airing out your own dirty laundry.
Now, imagine having gone through 10+ years of not being “able to” express any of these emotions. Especially on how it relates to infertility.
It’s like having to sort through ten years of “dirty laundry” that’s been piling up just to find my favorite t-shirt or pair of jeans. It’s going to take awhile … maybe not as long as it took to pile up … but I’ve got to do a few loads and iron out a few details before I can once again wear those articles of clothing that made me look and feel my very best.
In addition, imagine writing a blog all about what’s bothering me. I’m absolutely positive that I’ve “lost face” within my Filipino circle of family & friends. Because believe me, I have felt the avoidance of engaging me in any conversation. And I’ve noticed the lack of effort on their part to find out how to appropriately discuss what Hubby & I are going through.
So to those Filipino family and friends (and any other readers out there … if I have any left … who might not understand my cultural considerations) who say that it’s been ten years and that I should just quit b*tching & complaining and “just move on” … I hope they know exactly how hard it is to do so. Because there is TEN LONG YEARS of stifled emotions that need to be addressed before I can move on.
I need to peel back the layers of disappointment, fear, anger and pain in order to find that happiness that I know is somewhere inside of me.
And that is probably THE MAIN reason for writing this blog.