self portrait, december 2006
When browsing through my huge collection of pictures to try and find one of me styled up with "what I wear
", I found this one taken in December last year.
It brought back a flood of emotions because I remember when I took this photo I was so centered on my journey to conceive. It had been just a few months since Boho
Boy and I started going to a new holistic doctor. We were on a new diet, taking new herbs and feeling so, so much hope. In fact, when looking at the date of this photo taken, in comparison to my fertility chart I used to keep...there was a good chance I could have been pregnant. Meaning, it was a week past ovulation and the possibility in my mind and heart was huge.
It would have never crossed my mind that a year from when this photo was taken, I would still not have our baby in my arms.
I just read a very raw, rich, beautiful blog post from a dear sweet friend
of mine that was full of truth speaking about her depression. She had gently asked for no advice but just stories of others suffering from these feelings. Her truthfulness inspired me to search down deep for a place where I can come meet her, hold her hand, nod my head in understanding and sit in silence with the knowledge that she is not alone.
I told her in a comment that another dear friend of mine whom had gone through her own (in)fertility journey but is now a mother, once told me that her depression never quite lifted until she held her baby in her arms.
The thought that I am depressed is not all that new to me. Depression comes in all forms and it wasn't but a few months ago when I was brave enough to go to a therapist so that I could move through it. I am no longer curled up in a ball in the corner of my room and have indeed moved through so much of it but down in the very depths of my heart is this ache that never goes away. It is an ache that can spill out of me even when I least expect it to. Even when I am laughing and feeling completely blissful. It can be triggered with the site of a pregnant woman or a beautiful baby or a quote or a film and so on. It can stop me in my happy tracks and drain me with sadness for a few days at a time. It can make this open heart of mine withdraw
from family and friends. With this ache is the fear that I will never experience what it is like to hold a baby in my belly and give it life for nine months. With this ache is the fear that if I have a hard time believing I am able to get pregnant, that those thoughts will create that outcome. With this ache is a longing so primal that it is completely out of my control. With this ache is the knowledge that everything I am feeling, my sweet beautiful husband feels along with me and there is nothing I can say or do to soothe his own sacred ache. With this ache is a worry that on this blog I continue to repeat these feelings every few months and that my friends, family and blog readers will roll their eyes and wish I could get over this. With this ache there is a shame in all this that I am not proud of.
I am a week past ovulation on the second month since my surgery where I am supposed to be the most fertile I have been in three years since this journey began. I cannot even begin to explain how many emotions have surfaced in the last few days and how it has taken almost every ounce of my energy to try and move through each day and focus on all my blessings. One would think that this diagnosis of being fertile would create even more hope but what I have found is that with that extra morsel of hope, comes more fear of disappointment
. Hand in hand.
I go through so many of these emotions quietly because I am afraid to annoy my loved ones. Afraid that they'll throw their hands up in frustration because I have been such a pillar, an example, a wise, strong woman in their eyes and now this? Afraid that they will see this unfolding as weakness rather than strength.
I know I have walked this journey with my head held high. I know I've been (and still am) a fighter, a survivor, a glass half full human being. I am proud of myself for all of this. I feel brave. I feel strong. I feel wiser and more deep and more me. I feel grateful for all that has come into my life as a result of this journey: my friends, my photo opportunities
, my potential book deals, my inspirations.
But no matter how much I pour myself into all these things and try to convince myself that I don't need to be a mother when I am so blessed with this amazing life I have created...the pain is still there and it will be there until I have my baby. The baby I hear whispering to me every day that I want to hold, to teach, to nurture, to play with and to watch grow into one of the most amazing individuals I have ever known.
One of the many books I have read along the way asked a very important question. "What is it in your life that you think this baby will help replace, help fill up that you are perhaps neglecting within yourself?" I thought about this for a few months. I wrote stuff down. I tried to discover if it was something missing in my marriage or my own individual life. I couldn't come up with anything other than that I love my husband so much and think we have such a cool, amazing relationship and life together that I want to bring a love child into the mix with us. Simply just to share and to provide the world with another radically cool human being.
...and I miss that radically cool human being every day, so much.
So its not so much what my baby would replace that is missing in my life. For me, it is about what my baby would add to my already beautiful life.
So, what does this have to do with what I wear? Apparently I wear my heart on my sleeve even if I try to tuck it under once in awhile. Today, I let it out.
To echo my sweet friend's gentle request, please no advice giving or psychoanalysis but just the love and support you are so damn brilliant at. Thank you, sweet blog tribe.