I used to think that I didn’t have a story.
I would go to networking events, and listen to the lovely stories of the speakers, the things they’ve experienced, the hardships they’ve endured. And I would listen to how they got through them, and what they learned. And then we’d hear them tell the people in the audience to own their story, to not be afraid to speak your truth, or encourage us to share our story with others.
I remember thinking ‘but what if you don’t have a story?’ What if you just have a cluster of unfortunate experiences and struggles, and that’s just the way your life is? It’s not nearly as bad as other’s have experienced, so who am I to start spouting my negative thoughts about my experiences to near-strangers? What if you aren’t sure of your truth? You haven’t worked through your lessons enough to choose your cause or a charity to stand behind? What does that make you?
These past 5 years have been the utmost challenging years I’ve ever experienced. Of course, they haven’t been all bad, but they have been trying, exhausting, disappointing and just plain difficult. I’ve found my anxiety creeping up to levels I’m not sure they’ve been before, and I’m limited on the medical options I have available to me, since we’ve been attempting to start a family for nearly the past 5 years. I want so badly to tell you I’m not writing this post to spread negativity, however the fact that I feel the need to clarify that is one of the reasons this post has been on my heart.
As women (or maybe even just as humans), there’s this horrible contradiction between being authentic, but not too honest. Telling your story, but not being too negative. But what if you’re right in the middle of it? What if you’re in the upside-down world and nothing is making sense, and all you’re seeing is a lot of negatives? What if you’re in the throws of infertility and are struggling with what your future looks like, and you can’t see the light? When you feel lost on most days because you really aren’t sure what you’re doing with your life, mostly because you expected to have children by now?
More often than not, I find myself trying to justify opening up to someone if I can’t also come up with a positive about the situation to end the conversation with. It’s as if there is something ingrained in me that it’s in poor taste to appear ungrateful for the life I do have, so I quickly come up with something to lessen the burden on the person I’m telling my troubles too. This is probably why, if you’ve been one of the few people I’ve discussed our infertility with, I’ve ended the conversation with ‘so we just get to travel a lot until we have children.’ Like hey, no big deal, I’m over here doing fine because we went to Italy last year. I’m not really sure who I’m kidding, but it’s surely not me.
At the end of the day, I’m learning I do have a story. But the reason I can’t see it fully (or tell it to you) yet, is because I’m still writing it. I’m in the middle of it, and I’m still going through it. And I’ll likely be going through it until we either someday start a family (in whatever way that looks like for us) or we decide to stop trying to have a family. And I’m realizing that it’s ok, because it’s going to take as long as it takes.
I’m learning that you can’t write (or tell) a story when you’re in the middle of it. A story is best told when some of the healing has started to take place. When you can look back and have compassion for yourself and the lessons you were taught. So while it’s still too raw for me to own my story, I’m choosing to try to own the lessons within my story. The little lessons of faith, and patience and hope. Learning what it’s like to feel the losses of our two miscarriages, instead of pretending that they didn’t happen. Really just choosing to be present no matter how mucky it might get, and instead of worrying if my story and my feelings makes other people uncomfortable, just accept that they probably will, because they make me uncomfortable, and maybe that’s ok for a little while.
In the meantime though, I would love to know, where do you turn for hope, or for a change of perspective or a different way of looking at things when you’re in the middle of something challenging? What is your go-to ‘I got you’ ritual that you do for yourself or that someone does for you?
