Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Kiddos · Life · Marriage

Happy Mother’s Day to those in the trenches of infertility.

Thank you to How to Buy a Baby, whose words inspired this doodle.

Mother’s Day weekend can be really hard when you’re infertile and in the trenches, trying add to your family. It hurts so badly. While you may not hold a child in your arms yet, you are a mother the moment you open your heart to the idea of your child.

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You are a mother to hope. You are a mother to strength. You are a mother to perseverance. You birth these emotions and nurture them month after month in the place of a child in your arms, you nurture them FOR the child that will hopefully come. This is not a meaningless task. It has merit. Your hope for a child in your arms makes today particularly painful but you are mothering already on your journey to that reality. And that counts.

Gallery-Written · Life · Uncategorized

The way it comes out is right! Learning to walk with what hurts.

The other night my son wanted to break a wishbone with me. Naturally I have a jar of wishbones ready for all of our wishing needs. And every time we compete for one, he yells, “you’re never gonna win!”

It always makes me laugh, but in my head there’s a little voice that says, “story of my life.”

He won, and his happy little bounce as he silently made his wishes made me happy. But it got me thinking. I’ve been making a lot of wishes the last while. Actually I’ve been making a lot of wishes my whole life. Usually I’m wishing that something were different. I have a big list of wishes ready, but I never seem to win.

It’s just so frustrating sometimes. And while I try to make myself think positively, I quite often feel like I come up short. I don’t think I’ve ever had something just come easily to me. It seems like there’s always a catch. Some rocky terrain to cover before I can get where I wanna be. And then I just wish I was stupid, maybe then I could be content. Maybe then I could stop dreaming and just settle. Maybe I could stop comparing myself to every other woman, artist or mother. I wish I didn’t care so much about everyone else’s feelings, and I just wish someone would put mine first. Choose me first. I wish I felt desirable, and I wish I could just fuck cause I want to, instead of on some fucking schedule. I wish I could just enjoy love, without the fear of loss always hanging over me. I just wish I could be like the cool kids and not give a fuck, but the fact is I will always give too many. Sometimes I am crippled by all the fucks.

Sometimes it makes me think I should hide. It makes me want to run away. Pretend to be someone else. Try on another life, see if I fit. But I’m not someone else. I’m me. Even all the fucked up and annoying fucks I shouldn’t give, are me. All of the emotions that keep bubbling up even though I try to ignore them, are me. I don’t wanna ride the complain train. But I’m not sure what to do when everything that’s happened is out of my control. And I don’t know what to do with the angry feelings that keep trying to come out of me.

I recently attended a workshop though, and our instructor said “the way it comes out of you is right.” She said “Work on one area at a time, but remember to take a step back every now and then so you can see the bigger picture.”

Obviously she was meaning the art, but life is art, and I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear those words. So instead of running from this funk I’m in. I’m trying to walk with it, let it come out of me. So I went walking last night. I was thinking and trying to figure out if I’m even on the right path. If I don’t even know what I wanna do or where I wanna go, how can I get where I want to be?

As I walked though, I noticed that my path has gotten smoother just by continuing to walk it. Some parts of the trail have blown in, so I’ve found other routes. Even on the bumpy parts I’ve noticed I’m starting to make my own little groove. And it got me thinking maybe the problem isn’t my path, maybe the problem is that I’m always comparing my path to others. Life, art, love, feelings, fertility—wishes, none of these things are meant to be a competition. Each one is just a path. And we will each have our own experience. For whatever reason, my circumstances have provided me with the odd bumpy and winding path. But I’ve gotten pretty damn far despite all that. I do get tired, but I know now that my strength is in my perseverance.

So maybe if I keep going I can make more wishes come true for myself. I have already made it a point to try to choose myself, and to love myself first. It feels right, it feels good. And come to think of it, I could even go fuck myself. Check another wish off the list. Ha! I’m always giving too many fucks anyway, maybe it’s about time I lay some of those fucks on myself.

And maybe one day, I’ll even be thankful for all of the wishes that didn’t come true. Sometimes it’s been the blocked paths that have pushed me to take another route. Sometimes those roadblocks, led me down paths that turned out to be even better than what I had imagined.

I think I just need to remember that just because one path is messed up, it doesn’t mean the journey is ruined. And maybe I don’t need to know exactly where the path is leading me yet, I just need to walk it. One step at a time. Find my own way. Make my own groove. Just keep working on one area at a time, and try to remember to step back now and then and appreciate how far I’ve come. If I like how it’s coming along, I can keep going. But if I don’t, I can always choose to go in another direction.

I’m just realizing that what really fucks me up most of the time, is that I start to think the picture I’m making is wrong because it doesn’t look like anyone else’s. And it never seems to turn out exactly how I envisioned it in my head. But maybe it’s not supposed to?

I want to end up with a sunny picture as much as the next guy, but maybe I’ve gotta paint with the colours I have right now. And I’ve been handed some dark ones. So why hide it. I can’t seem to get rid of what hurts, so I’ll hold it. Work with it. Walk with it. I need to honour it as it comes out. Sometimes when I’m too close to it, it seems like a mess. But when I take a step back and look at the big picture, it’s kind of a beautiful mess. The picture will never be perfect. But I’m learning however it comes out of me it’s just right!

Thanks for joining me! I hope you’ll also check out https://smartandsmitten.com/2019/07/21/to-all-of-the-people-i-knew-before/

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Kiddos · Life · Marriage · Uncategorized

#1in4 Couples experience pregnancy or infant loss.

I have read so many heartbreaking and touching stories this October, and I felt like I had to commend everyone for their bravery. It is not easy to allow yourself to be so vulnerable about such a personal thing. But I believe in my heart that our stories connect us. In times of hardship our stories ensure that we are not alone. And as thankful as I am that these topics are becoming less taboo, I have noticed a recurring theme in these stories and the comments that follow, and I thought I’d take this opportunity to ask a teeny favour of everyone. Could we just stop grading how bad each other have it? One person opens up and it creates a dialogue. Which is beautiful. But for some reason when we speak of our loss, especially pregnancy loss, we feel the need to grade each loss. “Oh Becky, I’m so sorry for your loss. I had a miscarriage last fall, but it wasn’t as bad. I was only a few weeks.”

It wasn’t as bad? Is it really less of a loss? Or just loss? Why do we do that to ourselves?

My husband and I have been trying to grow our family for the past 12 years. In that time we have had one successful pregnancy. I have always said I am very fortunate, because technically I have never had a pregnancy loss. Sometimes I even feel silly for getting upset about our struggles because it seems that some couples have it worse. Which frankly is just nuts. We try to grade how bad we have it in comparison to someone else. And from there we grade to what degree we’re allowed to be sad? It’s ridiculous. I do it too. I say well I have a step child and I birthed one kid, and I didn’t end up needing IVF yet, or I’ve only had a blighted ovum, that’s not a real miscarriage. But the fact is just because someone has it worse doesn’t mean your situation is not hard. Hard is hard. Loss is loss. Whether you have just begun trying to start a family but you’re worrying more and more as each month passes, or you’re a veteran to the infertility game. It’s ok to feel like it’s unfair-because it is. And whether you had a blighted ovum or a miscarriage the truth is you had joy and hope for a new life the second you saw that positive pregnancy test, and to lose that is devastating. So never feel like you don’t have a right to your feelings. As was once said to me; “you were a mom from the first time you cried about getting your period.”

It’s true.

It hurts when your heart is ready, but your arms remain empty. It’s painful, we don’t need to figure out if it’s more or less painful than what someone else is enduring —it’s just painful. That’s all.