filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Parenting is undoubtedly a tough job that comes with a lot of responsibility, but is it the hardest job in the world. Really?
This throwaway comment is the topic of Whiny Wednesday this week. What are your feelings on this?
“Parenting is the hardest job in the world”
By Lisa Manterfield
I’ve been spending more time than usual alone lately and it’s not good for my head. I’m beginning to talk to myself and some of those conversations aren’t good.
When I’m busy working, my brain and I get along just fine, but in the evenings, when I’m padding around the kitchen making dinner, doing dishes, or folding laundry, the conversations start.
You know the ones I mean. I pick up an issue that’s been bothering me, something someone said that stung, or some other injustice or conflict that’s gone unresolved. Then I set about solving the problem, confronting the offender, and getting into a big fight in my head. (Please tell me I’m not the only person that does this.)
Usually I gravitate towards the worst case scenario. I end up working myself into a lather over something that hasn’t happened, and may never happen.
Finally, I have to remind myself that my body can’t tell the difference between real conflict and imagined, and so it’s busy pumping all those stress hormones out into my blood stream, which isn’t doing my health any good. That’s usually enough to stop the arguments – at least for a while.
I used to do this a lot when I was busy beating myself up over infertility, trying to figure out why it happened – or more to the point, what I had done to make it happen to me. I’d think of all the choices I’d made along the way and imagine if I’d started earlier and had children with someone who wasn’t right for me, instead of waiting so long for Mr. Fab. Does any of this sound familiar?
Once you get that negative self-talk going, it’s easy to convince yourself of all kinds of things that aren’t true. And is that really going to help the healing process? Probably not. More likely it’s just going to create more stress and give you wrinkles.
So today, as you’re going about your business, listen to what you’re telling yourself. We all have plenty of real conflict in our lives; let’s not add to it by creating more in our heads.
Here’s a good article that explains more about the science of self-talk.
Some years ago, a young relative asked why I didn’t have children. I gave him an explanation that was honest, while also being appropriate for a young boy.
And then he asked me, “But won’t you be lonely?”
To this I responded that I had Mr. Fab and that I’d be fine. But actually, I think he may have hit a nerve, because even though I value the quiet time I have, sometimes it can feel a little lonely.
It’s Whiny Wednesday, what truths have hit a nerve with you?
By Lisa Manterfield
How do you know when it’s time to stop pursuing your dreams of motherhood? How do you know when enough is enough, when you have to reclaim your life and make new plans? It’s not a simple question to answer.
There were several moments that I wrote about in detail in I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home. These were moments when I knew, deep down, that I had to stop treatment and had to find a way to move on without children.
The first was when I was sitting at a bus stop on my way home from my third doctor appointment of the week. I realized that getting pregnant had become a full-time job and that it was consuming every aspect of my life. Case in point, I don’t even remember why I was taking the bus (two buses, actually) to my appointments, but I do remember that this had become my habit. I can picture myself now, staring out the bus window, almost in a trance, so wrapped up my world of infertility, I was barely aware of my actions. I knew then I had lost touch with reality and myself.
Another point came not long after Mr. Fab realized that adoption wasn’t going to be a viable option for us. This really should have been the stopping point, but before long I found myself in the infertility section of the bookstore, browsing a book by a doctor who had performed fertility miracles through Chinese Medicine. I bought the book, even though we’d already traveled far down that road. When I mentioned it to Mr. Fab, he said all the right, supportive things, but I saw his face drop for a moment. I knew that he was wrung out, that he had reached the end of his journey, and that I should have been at the end of mine, too. But by the end of that week, I had an appointment with the miracle doctor and I was back on the bus, both literally and figuratively.
One of my last lightbulb moments came when Mr. Fab’s first grandchild was born. That passing of the motherhood torch to the next generation served to tell me that it was time for my journey to end. I had done all I could, motherhood wasn’t going to happen for me, and I had to let it go.
In between these events, and even after I was sure I would not be a mother, there were many moments of doubt, of second-guessing, of what-ifs. But for every step backwards, I took two steps forward toward recovery, and then three, and then four, until the backward slips became fewer and eventually stopped.
I imagine each of you has a similar story of realization and doubts. What were your “lightbulb” moments and how did you finally know it was time to stop?
I love the Internet for the breadth and depth of information it provides, and for the opportunity to read so many varying opinions on one subject. But sometimes I just have to walk away.
Case in point, I was doing research for a post and came across the following comment on an article:
“I take care of my parents. My children will take care of me. You want to force my children to take care of you too, meanwhile you arrogantly and selfishly live a much richer life style. Frankly, every GINK I’ve met was an arrogant, self-righteous, elitist. You should apologize for not adding to the future of our race.”
So after I ranted to myself about not expecting anyone else’s kids to take care of me, how our race of almost 7 billion people doesn’t need much adding to, and how narrow-minded this woman was to tar us all with the same “arrogant, self-righteous, elitist” brush, I stomped off and took a long, hot shower.
This woman was clearly on a mission (she posted about half a dozen comments to the same article) and I can’t believe I let her anger get under my skin.
It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s under your skin today?
This topic came up in the community forums last week and it’s one that I see over and over again. As I settle into the New Year, I’m thinking about my upcoming (and some overdue) health check-ups—teeth, eyes, and, of course, the annual visit to my OB/GYN. The latter prompted this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic:
OB/GYN office walls plastered with baby photos
Given that this is so often the first of many stops on the fertility trail, and given that so many of us don’t have children, but wanted them, doesn’t this seem a tad insensitive?
It’s Whiny Wednesday. What’s under your skin this week?
Well, here we are in 2019, and I think it’s safe to say that most of us are ready to see the back of last year. Between political craziness, tragic news stories, and a general feeling of uneasiness in the world, I’m ready for a fresh start.
I do love the New Year for the potential it brings in terms of a clean slate and the chance to make big changes. And yet, in the past, I’ve ended up putting pressure on myself to fix all the things that are wrong with me. My goals have included losing weight, exercising more, doing a better job of keeping in touch with people, and on and on—a long list of things I’m doing wrong.
But a couple of years ago, I started to change my outlook. Instead of treating myself like something broken that needed fixing, I began looking for my potential and making progress with the things I’m doing right. Last week, I wrote a post about it, Looking for Potential. Do take a look as I think you’ll find it a kinder, gentler way of approaching the New Year.
So, as we go into this year, I want to encourage you to be kind to yourself, too. Instead of trying to fix a laundry list of shortcomings, perhaps you could look for where you’ve made progress over the last year and focus your energy there.
For example, let’s say you have a friend who you’ve avoided because her children are the same ages yours would have been and you can’t bear to see her. Maybe you ran into her last year and realized you’ve missed her company. Could you set a goal to reach out to her, give her a call or send a quick email note, maybe broach the topic of getting together?
Or perhaps you’ve been reading this blog for a while or working your way through my, or someone else’s, book and you’ve hit a spot where you feel stuck. Maybe a goal would be to find a therapist, counsellor, or support group and get some additional help.
This healing process takes time. Oh, man, does it take time! But progress is made by inching forward a little at a time. So, don’t try to take giant steps forward. Instead, be kind to yourself and take the tiniest, most doable step possible, something you can actually accomplish and feel good about.
How could you inch forward on your journey this year? What’s the smallest, no-sweat step you could take? Let us know in the comments, and if you need a little encouragement to take it, just ask.
For now, I wish for you a genuinely happy new year.
If you’re a regular reader, you’re probably expecting an “It Got Me Thinking” post from Kathleen today. However, we’re making a few changes to the format in 2019. Don’t be alarmed. In this case, change is good.
Kathleen is hard at work on a new book (I’ve read an early draft and I can’t wait to tell you more about it soon.) In order to give her the time she needs to do final rounds of revisions, we’re shifting things around a bit here.
On Mondays, you’ll still see posts from me (Lisa), mixed in with with the occasional post from Kathleen. Whiny Wednesdays will continue as normal.
If you’re craving “It Got Me Thinking”, you can find all Kathleen’s posts here. You can also read through her “Our Stories” posts for a reminder that “You are not alone.”
Please join me in wishing Kathleen luck with her project. She’ll be back before long to tell you more about it. Meanwhile, thank you for growing and changing with us!
As the New Year begins and everyone around you is posting about goals for the year ahead, do you find it hard to envision a future that doesn’t include children?
This is the topic for this week’s Whiny Wednesday:
Feeling lost
Tell us what’s going on with you.
A reader sent me a wonderful blog post that I wanted to share with you as we go into the New Year. It begins with this quote:
“We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives… not looking for flaws, but for potential.”
I really relate to this quote because, in the past, this is exactly how I’ve approached the New Year. I’ve gone room-to-room looking for all the things wrong with me and resolving to fix them in the New Year. Come year-end, I’d look at my goals for the previous January and inevitably find that I’d fallen short, let myself down yet again. So, I’d resolve to do better the next year, to make it the year I improved myself.
I’m not sure whether it’s facing the reality of infertility that’s made me realize there are things about me that just cannot be fixed, or if I’ve just reached an age where I’ve decided to be kinder to myself. Whichever it is, I’ve adopted a new philosophy about New Year’s resolutions.
I no longer resolve to fix my flaws. I’m not going to aim to lose weight or organize my house or try to be more stylish. Nor am I going to compare myself to others—especially women with children—and find myself falling short. I am who I am and, even though I’m far from perfect, I don’t need to be fixed.
Instead I’m looking for ways to tap my potential and be the best version of me I can be. Instead of resolving to be who I’m not, I will try to nurture the best of who I am. I will set goals that point me in the direction I’d like my life to go and not worry about whether the “me” that arrives there is perfect.
As you head into the New Year, will you be making resolutions or setting goals? If so, are you being kind to yourself or are you treating yourself like something that’s broken and needs to be fixed?
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