That Day Again: Coping Tips

A repost of last year’s Mother’s Day post. I know this day is tough for many. I hope some of these tips help. Or just let you know you’re not alone. I’m going out for dinner tomorrow night (“that day” here in NZ) for an unrelated reason, and I’m bracing myself a little, as I usually avoid restaurants on this day. I’ll report back how it was. But ultimately, I’ve decided I’m going to enjoy my evening. I deserve it just as much as anyone else. And now to the tips:

I’ve posted every year around Mother's Day (yes, I know that I named the “day that shall not be named”) since 2011, my first year blogging. Sometimes I post on the day, sometimes a bit before. This year, I’m almost a week in advance for the day celebrated by the majority of countries. (Even though I know it is marked from February through to December by a range of different countries.) But I know by now the advertisements, the discussions, the dread can be sinking in. So here it is. Most years I’ve posted about different aspects of the day, thought about different things, or talked about different experiences of the day. I thought it was about time that I consolidated them all, looked at how my commenters and I cope, the things we do, or the attitudes we take, that see us get through the day. And importantly, how we have healed. Here are my coping tips - I hope they help. 

1. Anticipation makes it worse. I know well that feeling of dread that this day can invoke – worrying about how I will cope with the day, or what people will say to me, and how I should react. Planning ahead for the day, to avoid the worst aspects of it, to control what I can, helps. Knowing the anticipation is normal helps too. And what I also know now is that, after all these years, this feeling of dread fades over the years. It won’t be with you forever.
2. It is okay to find the day, and the lead up to the day, and the day or two afterwards, especially in the workplace, difficult. That’s understandable. It is an in-our-face onslaught of sometimes smug people celebrating what they have, and what we wanted, but don’t. It is a day when we feel isolated, ignored, invisible. That’s hard for anyone to deal with. Don’t beat yourself up if you are emotional on the day. That is normal. It’s part of our journey. It’s not a setback. You will recover from it. 
3. You are not alone. There are many of us, not just those of us who are no kidding not by choice, who dislike Mother’s Day. Those who hate the commercialism, who have recently lost their mothers, those who are estranged from their mothers, or feel their absence for whatever reason, those who have to spend the day with mothers-in-law or others when they might not be their “favourite person,” birth mothers, adoptees, adoptive mothers feeling their loss and that of their adoptees, those who are happily childfree but are made to feel less than on this day, those who are resentful that they have to care for their mothers, or have never known a mother’s love, or mothers who are estranged from their children or just never understood them, and vice versa, mothers whose children live in other countries or states or just too far to get together, and many more I’m sure I have forgotten. It is a whitewashed image of a happy day of people celebrating their mothers and children, when in reality many people find it hard. As a (mother) friend of mine said about the day, “joy is never guaranteed, especially at holidays.”
4. There is solidarity. (See above!) Your favourite No Kidding bloggers or social media accounts are going to be thinking about you and the others who are affected by this, and sending out so much love to our community. There are places you can go online (and maybe in real life) where you won’t be alone. There are a lot of people looking for solidarity on any of these days around the world. And we all understand that. If ever there was a day that unites No Kidding people all around the world, this is it. Join our hands, you are not alone, we are with you.
5. Take control of the day. I think that has to be my key recommendation. Do whatever you need to do to protect your feelings, to feel peace, to feel like yourself. And don't let yourself be bullied! (There are so many stories of family members bullying a childless woman on this day.)  
   
6. Honour yourself. I wrote a while ago about this day when it was also my husband’s birthday – I was trying to balance doing something with his mother, and making a fuss of him too (though we deliberately went out to dinner the night before for his birthday to avoid the crowds), but I also wanted to carve out some part of the day just for me. I wanted to give myself some time to deal with the day, or to ignore it and just focus on some self-care, to honour my struggles too. That was important to me. I didn't want to feel as if my existence and experiences were erased by this day. I didn't let that happen.
   
7. Turn off social media, or any other social/news sources that can be dodgy (feed readers/news sites/etc, anything with commercials – eg listen to audiobooks or playlists not the radio, etc). Don’t look at email promotions! (Though fortunately, many companies are now offering “opt out” emails for these holidays.) And don’t forget to keep it going the next day, because a lot of people only upload photos then. And as the American time zones come in after everyone else, beware of that 18 hour delay (if you’re in NZ, for example).
8. Personally, I avoid anything that is too public on this day. That includes movie theatres, restaurants and cafes, anything where you might find families doing something special. But I know others find churches very difficult on this day too as they often single out the mothers and forget those who feel isolated. To protect themselves, they choose to avoid services on that day only. Meet friends for a walk or at your house rather than at a café. I’m lucky because I have time, and can choose to go out and do things on other days. And I can have a coffee, or go to the supermarket, or see a movie, any other day.
9. Do something special just for you at home. I know some people treat Mother’s and Father’s Day as special days just to celebrate their spouses/partners. I tried that. “Mali” Day hasn’t really caught on! Lol But I will often choose to make a favourite meal. 
10. Make it a day to, as Beef Princess said some years ago, honour your dream of being a mother … “allowing for grief, healing and self-compassion.” I will always think of the babies I lost, and the mother I never was, on this day. But I honour the feelings, and these days, I mostly remember without the pain.
11. Treat it as any other Sunday. Work out, prepare for the week, write a Monday blog post, clean, etc etc. Ignore it, in other words. It is possible!
12. Look at the benefits of your life, embrace them, and feel gratitude for them. This was prompted by seeing a post years ago from a friend who had already been up at the crack of dawn, and had gone out for brunch with her husband and sons, where she would almost certainly have had to fight the crowds at the cafe. I laughed. Because I had only just got up when she had already posted! I'd spent an hour studying Italian, enjoyed a lovely cup of tea brought to me by my loving husband, had enjoyed a cuddle, and responded to several emails about booking accommodation in Italy in August. And I did it all peacefully, in bed! (Accusations of laziness not permitted). We had been to our favourite brunch place the day before for a late lunch when just the usual regulars were there (couples - straight and gay - with no kids in sight), and had a very pleasant and relaxed time sans enfants. I was very happy with my day. It was different, but no worse.
13. Travelling on this day can be a double-edged sword. As it is a day marked in a lot of places everywhere in the world, you might still be subject to comments, poorly directed well-wishes, etc. But when you are not at home, in an interesting place, it can feel more distant, and much less important. I saw mothers celebrating with their families on this day in South Africa 14 years ago, and it was lovely. I didn’t relate it to myself, because I was in a very foreign place and with different cultures, and I was having too good a time! There is a real freedom being away from your own society and community and language, or even just being out of your own neighbourhood.
14. Many of us still can’t avoid the day totally, if our mothers, grandmothers, mothers-in-law etc are around. Hopefully you can mark the day with them, which is important, and still protect your hearts. After all, even though my mother and MIL are both gone, I still think I would find it hard, even 20 years on, to sit in a restaurant, surrounded by happy families, being reminded at every turn that I am not and will never be a mother. So, my advice is to find excuses – prior engagements, or simply that restaurants will be too crowded - and happily go out with your mothers or mother figures, the day before. Alternatively, doing so at home – taking or ordering a special meal or a celebratory cake – can make the time easier for you, and just as much fun for them.
15. Remember that this is a commercial day that is utterly contrived, a way to guilt people into buying gifts, spending money, and feeling bad about themselves if they are among those who can't be included in the celebration. A friend noted that she disliked them for the pressure/alienation they bring about for some, a pressure that can be much worse than feeling lonely during the December holidays as it is so specific. That might not help you, but knowing it is pushed so hard these days simply to sell things makes it easier to ignore, and to do so with the utmost disdain!
16. To cope with the next day reviews at work/school/etc, feel free to make yourself scarce during these conversations, or (perhaps useful in a one-on-one situation) use a standard response of mine that I hope makes them think, which is along the lines of “I am not the person you should be talking to about this.”
17. It is one day, and it will pass. By Monday at best, or at least by mid-week, you’ll be back to your every day normal, and more importantly, so will everyone else.
18. It has power if we give it power. Sure, in the first few years it is hard not to succumb to the power of the day. But as time passes, it is easier to stand up straight and say, “nope, I’m not giving this day power over me.” It is easier to make our own plans to either avoid difficult situations, or to treat ourselves before or afterwards. It is easier to dismiss it as irrelevant to our lives. 
19. There will be blips. You may lose your mother or aunt or other female mentors, and feel it anew. You may see people close to you feted on the day and that can cause fresh pain too. But I have no mother or mother-in-law anymore, and I have no children. For me, it mostly feels as if the day is happening elsewhere, and to others, and I'm fine with that. 
20. Inevitably, it gets easier. The guilt for not caring goes too. The power of the day vanishes. Anticipation is easy. And if we have a blip, we know that that is what it is. Our scars heal over.. And you know what rushes in to replace the hurt from the wounds? A wonderful sense of relief, of compassion for those who are still going through it, and freedom.

Here's a link to all my previous Mother's Day related posts.

We can't escape

After my post about my travel last week, I remember I left a couple of things out.  It wasn't a sneaky strategy to stretch out the post over two weeks, although I appreciate the fact that I haven't had to think of a new topic for today! They're just proof that however far we go, we can't escape from the reminders, even if they were very minor in the scheme of things.

Mother's Day itself passed easily for me. We were in Zimbabwe, on a South African train, and both countries celebrate Mother's Day in May. There was no TV and no wifi for four days, so we didn't get an onslaught of advertising for the day. It was not mentioned on the train I was travelling on. It was not mentioned at the hotel we checked into that day (after disembarking from the train). It was not mentioned by anyone! So much so that I almost forgot it was happening. Until the next day when, finally reunited with wi-fi after the train trip (my longest wifi gap in about 11 years by my reckoning), I opened social media. Oh, the onslaught. The onslaught of messages - even the "for those who find this day difficult" messages - were a reminder that I was not included in this day. It brought me down. Stupidly, I had failed to take my own advice and stay away from social media! Doh! But I wasn't down long. I just posted more photos of luxurious trains and magical elephants from the previous few days as my revenge.

A week earlier, I posted a cute photo of a lion cub gnawing on the ear of a lioness, part of a pride we were watching. My SIL made a comment. "The things mothers have to put up with." I rolled my eyes. She is increasingly saying things like this that don't seem relevant to the post to me, but are clearly top of mind for her, perhaps because her kids are starting to leave home and she's feeling it. I pointed out that the mother was actually behind the little cub (they had wandered in together). She wasn't as tolerant. It was one of the very patient aunts who was being pestered by the cub. (Of course, I got no response to that.) Lions raise their offspring in a community. (I've mentioned this before). I love that about them. If only the human world was quite as inclusive.

That Day Again: 20 Coping Tips

I’ve posted every year around Mother's Day (yes, I know that I named the “day that shall not be named”) since 2011, my first year blogging. Sometimes I post on the day, sometimes a bit before. This year, I’m almost a week in advance for the day celebrated by the majority of countries. (Even though I know it is marked from February through to December by a range of different countries.) But I know by now the advertisements, the discussions, the dread can be sinking in. So here it is. Most years I’ve posted about different aspects of the day, thought about different things, or talked about different experiences of the day. I thought it was about time that I consolidated them all, looked at how my commenters and I cope, the things we do, or the attitudes we take, that see us get through the day. And importantly, how we have healed. Here are my coping tips - I hope they help.

1. Anticipation makes it worse. I know well that feeling of dread that this day can invoke – worrying about how I will cope with the day, or what people will say to me, and how I should react. Planning ahead for the day, to avoid the worst aspects of it, to control what I can, helps. Knowing the anticipation is normal helps too. And what I also know now is that, after all these years, this feeling of dread fades over the years. It won’t be with you forever.
2. It is okay to find the day, and the lead up to the day, and the day or two afterwards, especially in the workplace, difficult. That’s understandable. It is an in-our-face onslaught of sometimes smug people celebrating what they have, and what we wanted, but don’t. It is a day when we feel isolated, ignored, invisible. That’s hard for anyone to deal with. Don’t beat yourself up if you are emotional on the day. That is normal. It’s part of our journey. It’s not a setback. You will recover from it. 
3. You are not alone. There are many of us, not just those of us who are no kidding not by choice, who dislike Mother’s Day. Those who hate the commercialism, who have recently lost their mothers, those who are estranged from their mothers, or feel their absence for whatever reason, those who have to spend the day with mothers-in-law or others when they might not be their “favourite person,” birth mothers, adoptees, adoptive mothers feeling their loss and that of their adoptees, those who are happily childfree but are made to feel less than on this day, those who are resentful that they have to care for their mothers, or have never known a mother’s love, or mothers who are estranged from their children or just never understood them, and vice versa, mothers whose children live in other countries or states or just too far to get together, and many more I’m sure I have forgotten. It is a whitewashed image of a happy day of people celebrating their mothers and children, when in reality many people find it hard. As a (mother) friend of mine said about the day, “joy is never guaranteed, especially at holidays.”
4. There is solidarity. (See above!) Your favourite No Kidding bloggers or social media accounts are going to be thinking about you and the others who are affected by this, and sending out so much love to our community. There are places you can go online (and maybe in real life) where you won’t be alone. There are a lot of people looking for solidarity on any of these days around the world. And we all understand that. If ever there was a day that unites No Kidding people all around the world, this is it. Join our hands, you are not alone, we are with you.
5. Take control of the day. I think that has to be my key recommendation. Do whatever you need to do to protect your feelings, to feel peace, to feel like yourself. And don't let yourself be bullied! (There are so many stories of family members bullying a childless woman on this day.) 
   
6. Honour yourself. I wrote a while ago about this day when it was also my husband’s birthday – I was trying to balance doing something with his mother, and making a fuss of him too (though we deliberately went out to dinner the night before for his birthday to avoid the crowds), but I also wanted to carve out some part of the day just for me. I wanted to give myself some time to deal with the day, or to ignore it and just focus on some self-care, to honour my struggles too. That was important to me. I didn't want to feel as if my existence and experiences were erased by this day. I didn't let that happen.
   
7. Turn off social media, or any other social/news sources that can be dodgy (feed readers/news sites/etc, anything with commercials – eg listen to audiobooks or playlists not the radio, etc). Don’t look at email promotions! (Though fortunately, many companies are now offering “opt out” emails for these holidays.) And don’t forget to keep it going the next day, because a lot of people only upload photos then. And as the American time zones come in after everyone else, beware of that 18 hour delay (if you’re in NZ, for example).
8. Personally, I avoid anything that is too public on this day. That includes movie theatres, restaurants and cafes, anything where you might find families doing something special. But I know others find churches very difficult on this day too as they often single out the mothers and forget those who feel isolated. To protect themselves, they choose to avoid services on that day only. Meet friends for a walk or at your house rather than at a café. I’m lucky because I have time, and can choose to go out and do things on other days. And I can have a coffee, or go to the supermarket, or see a movie, any other day.
9. Do something special just for you at home. I know some people treat Mother’s and Father’s Day as special days just to celebrate their spouses/partners. I tried that. “Mali” Day hasn’t really caught on! Lol But I will often choose to make a favourite meal. 
10. Make it a day to, as Beef Princess said some years ago, honour your dream of being a mother … “allowing for grief, healing and self-compassion.” I will always think of the babies I lost, and the mother I never was, on this day. But I honour the feelings, and these days, I mostly remember without the pain.
11. Treat it as any other Sunday. Work out, prepare for the week, write a Monday blog post, clean, etc etc. Ignore it, in other words. It is possible!
12. Look at the benefits of your life, embrace them, and feel gratitude for them. This was prompted by seeing a post years ago from a friend who had already been up at the crack of dawn, and had gone out for brunch with her husband and sons, where she would almost certainly have had to fight the crowds at the cafe. I laughed. Because I had only just got up when she had already posted! I'd spent an hour studying Italian, enjoyed a lovely cup of tea brought to me by my loving husband, had enjoyed a cuddle, and responded to several emails about booking accommodation in Italy in August. And I did it all peacefully, in bed! (Accusations of laziness not permitted). We had been to our favourite brunch place the day before for a late lunch when just the usual regulars were there (couples - straight and gay - with no kids in sight), and had a very pleasant and relaxed time sans enfants. I was very happy with my day. It was different, but no worse.
13. Travelling on this day can be a double-edged sword. As it is a day marked in a lot of places everywhere in the world, you might still be subject to comments, poorly directed well-wishes, etc. But when you are not at home, in an interesting place, it can feel more distant, and much less important. I saw mothers celebrating with their families on this day in South Africa 14 years ago, and it was lovely. I didn’t relate it to myself, because I was in a very foreign place and with different cultures, and I was having too good a time! There is a real freedom being away from your own society and community and language, or even just being out of your own neighbourhood.
14. Many of us still can’t avoid the day totally, if our mothers, grandmothers, mothers-in-law etc are around. Hopefully you can mark the day with them, which is important, and still protect your hearts. After all, even though my mother and MIL are both gone, I still think I would find it hard, even 20 years on, to sit in a restaurant, surrounded by happy families, being reminded at every turn that I am not and will never be a mother. So, my advice is to find excuses – prior engagements, or simply that restaurants will be too crowded - and happily go out with your mothers or mother figures, the day before. Alternatively, doing so at home – taking or ordering a special meal or a celebratory cake – can make the time easier for you, and just as much fun for them.
15. Remember that this is a commercial day that is utterly contrived, a way to guilt people into buying gifts, spending money, and feeling bad about themselves if they are among those who can't be included in the celebration. A friend noted that she disliked them for the pressure/alienation they bring about for some, a pressure that can be much worse than feeling lonely during the December holidays as it is so specific. That might not help you, but knowing it is pushed so hard these days simply to sell things makes it easier to ignore, and to do so with the utmost disdain!
16. To cope with the next day reviews at work/school/etc, feel free to make yourself scarce during these conversations, or (perhaps useful in a one-on-one situation) use a standard response of mine that I hope makes them think, which is along the lines of “I am not the person you should be talking to about this.”
17. It is one day, and it will pass. By Monday at best, or at least by mid-week, you’ll be back to your every day normal, and more importantly, so will everyone else.
18. It has power if we give it power. Sure, in the first few years it is hard not to succumb to the power of the day. But as time passes, it is easier to stand up straight and say, “nope, I’m not giving this day power over me.” It is easier to make our own plans to either avoid difficult situations, or to treat ourselves before or afterwards. It is easier to dismiss it as irrelevant to our lives. 
19. There will be blips. You may lose your mother or aunt or other female mentors, and feel it anew. You may see people close to you feted on the day and that can cause fresh pain too. But I have no mother or mother-in-law anymore, and I have no children. For me, it mostly feels as if the day is happening elsewhere, and to others, and I'm fine with that. 
20. Inevitably, it gets easier. The guilt for not caring goes too. The power of the day vanishes. Anticipation is easy. And if we have a blip, we know that that is what it is. Our scars heal over.. And you know what rushes in to replace the hurt from the wounds? A wonderful sense of relief, of compassion for those who are still going through it, and freedom.

Here's a link to all my previous Mother's Day related posts.

With credit to my dear departed Mum, and her beautiful rose

 

Monday Miscellany: No Kidding style

First, an apology: From time to time my readers reach out to me, and email. However, a few years ago, I switched my blog email from malinzblog at yahoo dot co dot nz to nokiddinginnz at gmail dot com, and noted it in the sidebars. However, if you read mostly by phone you might have missed this. Recently, I decided to clean out my yahoo email inbox. Generally it is the one I use for internet subscriptions, and little else these days, so it is full of marketing emails. I check it periodically, but not frequently, and so “real” emails sometimes get swamped by the marketing ones. Which means that I sometimes miss them. As I was going through, deleting thousands of emails (literally!!!), I discovered some emails from some of my much loved readers. Sometimes I had responded, but didn’t see the follow-ups. Sometimes I had missed the emails entirely. I wholeheartedly apologise to whoever emailed me. Hopefully, that won’t happen as often in the future, especially now that my inbox is largely clear of rubbish. I’ve also unsubscribed from lots of things that I just never had time to read. So genuine emails shouldn’t get swamped so easily. But my nokiddinginnz address is largely clear of detritus. If you’re going to email – and I love getting emails – I recommend using it. I still don’t check it on a daily basis. But I do check it more often. I promise – I’m not kidding!

I was reminded in a radio discussion this morning of the importance of language that, beyond excluding groups, doesn’t erase them from history, or the present. The context of the discussion was the welcome practice of returning to using the traditional Maori place names (or even spelling them or pronouncing them correctly), rather than the super-imposed British (mostly) names used in many cases, or using a combination of the two. It makes Maori feel more empowered, more “seen.” I can’t imagine feeling that your entire people are being erased. However, on another level, I could immediately relate. It’s (as I mentioned last week) the (lazy or deliberate or both) use of the word “grandmas” or “mums/mothers etc” to describe women at particular ages, or “families” instead of “households.” That language erases No Kidding people from existence. It hurts. Language is important.

I actually spent some time over the last week actively planning some future blog posts, and taking time to write them. Over the last few years I’ve fallen into a bad habit of writing my Monday posts on a Monday morning, afternoon, or even when I sit down at a computer on a Tuesday (taking advantage of the time difference between the US and NZ). So I’ve really enjoyed feeling that I’ve got time to think about what I want to say, or to look a few things up, or to just take my time to let my thoughts form. Ironically, as I write this, there’s a guy on the radio talking about planning, and how society these days often doesn’t value that. He quoted Augustus, a Roman emperor saying, “make haste slowly” or “hasten slowly.” He also said, “That which has been done well has been done quickly enough." A good blogging reminder for me. And I’ve found that it has been nice to apply that principle to my own writing! Even if I’m not doing it for today’s post. Ha ha ha!

Finally, it is still over a month away, but the Day that Shall Not Be Named is coming up in May (except for the poor UKers, who have already had it, and have to hear about it again – or the poor Swiss, who have to go through ours before their day occurs a few weeks later). So companies are starting to focus on it already. For the very first time, I received an opt-out email from a company saying “Mother’s Day can be painful – we’ve got your back.” I already love this little company – Metalbird (see pic from my garden below) – and I love the way they said, “we’ve got your back.” As I’ve seen women on social media – who previously celebrated M’s Day openly with their kids – begin to lose their mothers, they’ve realised it can be hard. I hope that, in their own pain, they start to realise that it might not only be hard for those who’ve recently lost their mothers, but for those of us who never were mothers. Meanwhile, yay to those companies who think about their customers.

A metal native ruru (morepork)

 

Today: The Day That is Not for Us

I've been grappling all week with the question of whether to post on Mother's Day (yes, I know that I named the day that shall not be named), as I wasn't sure what to say. But in case there are readers finding the day difficult, I wanted to acknowledge it here. I want to acknowledge those women in the UK too, who are having to relive this all over again by reading stuff from the rest of the world who recognise the day in May, not March.

I have no mother or mother-in-law anymore, and I have no children. It feels as if the day is happening elsewhere, and to others, and I'm fine with that. So we are treating today as any other Sunday. I've worked out, and done some cleaning. My husband has done some house maintenance. We're had a cup of tea and done a crossword together. Simple stuff! And tomorrow is another day. We deliberately choose not to go out for brunch on this day, to stay away from movie theatres, or pretty much do anything out in public. That's fine. It makes for a quiet day, but doesn't bother me. I can curl up on the couch with a book soon. That's nice! 

It's only when I open social media or newspapers (online) that I see reference to it. I know for NZers and Australians that this will continue into Monday too, as our US and Canadian friends pass through the day almost 16-20 hours later too. It can be hard to deal with. Or at the very least, eye-roll inducing. So if you have US/Canadian friends, maybe avoid social media tomorrow too.

There have been a lot of posts on blogs, podcasts, and articles about the day this year, and more than ever mentioning those who might find the day difficult. I find that a really positive new trend. It started on Friday, when I was listening to my favourite National Radio programme, and the announcer finished by wishing everyone a happy mother's day, but then acknowledged that it can be a challenging or sad day for many, and added her wishes that those people who don't enjoy it find the day passes peacefully. I was delighted to hear that. There needs to be recognition that days that celebrate one group of people can, as a result, inevitably be very painful to others.

In case you want some support or just to know you're not alone, here are some of my previous Day that shall not be Named posts:

2011
2012 
2013 and another one Spoke too soon 
2014  
2015  
2016  
2017  
2018
2019   
2020 
2021  

Meanwhile, see you tomorrow for my regular Monday post. (That's the plan, anyway!)

Monday Miscellany: No Kidding style

I baked the bread, and it was easy and delicious. I have now got several new recipes I want to try. (There’s a Roquefort/blue cheese and walnut loaf that sounds to die for!)And thanks to Elaine for the (very logical) suggestion that I slice up the bread I haven’t eaten and freeze it. I’m going to do that in the future. If I make rolls or buns etc, I’ll give them to neighbours. Especially as Easter is coming up, and I want to try to make Hot Cross Buns again.

I became aware too late that this last weekend was the Day-that-shall-not-be-named in the UK. I hope my readers there passed the day peacefully, and took a little time for themselves, and to exercise some self-care. Sending hugs. I’m hoping by now you can recover and dismiss thoughts of the day for another year.

If you are on Facebook, the page for World Childless Week is reposting all the submissions from WCW last year. There is some wonderful thought-provoking material there that is, I have to say, much more digestible when it is drip fed to us at a slower pace. I'm enjoying reading individual's thoughts, and having more time to think about them. It’s well worth a look!

Speaking of Facebook, there is a (recently discovered) feature that allows you to stop notifications for particular dates – if there are dates/events/posts that are painful, or you’d prefer to forget, you can opt not to see these in your reminders. 

Finally, if you have followed my Insta page (@nokiddinginnz), you’ll know how completely slack I have been at posting links to my posts recently. Apologies - I’m planning to do better.

 

 

Revisiting That Day, and refusing to give up my power

It's that time of year again, the Day-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named,  so I thought I'd post something from May 2017 that still applies.

This year, we have no in-laws to worry about. We can just focus on each other, and plan the day. That's going to be nice, I think. But there's often still a little sting. So I'm sending hugs and good wishes to you all. Including the Brits who have already had their day, and through blogs and social media have to go through it all again. As those of us in NZ and Australia will have to do once the US social media posts appear on our Monday!

"One of the advantages of being away at this time of year is that I will miss Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day somewhere else however hasn’t bothered me too much – I took great delight, for example, watching all the families out for lunch in Soweto, South Africa, on Mother’s Day in 2009 - and I’m pretty sure that it won’t bother me in Iceland either, as I generally find there is a real freedom being away from your own society and community and language.

Feeling separate from the rest of our communities can be an ongoing, underlying source of pain, one to which we become accustomed, but as the years go on, we don’t necessarily recognise this until we suddenly notice its absence (for example, when travelling). And of course, one of the difficulties of our ongoing No Kidding life is that we can never quite predict when those nasty “ouch” moments might appear. Doing something that makes us happy – for example, going for a walk or cooking a special meal at home with your partner or friends – can help alleviate the impact of this day, and so can planning in advance, which is why I've posted this a week early. It is an invented holiday, and within a few days it is forgotten, and I refuse to give it too much power over me.

That first day back at work though – all those discussions/competitions between parents around the water cooler about how they spent their day – can be painful, and it is fine to protect yourself and make yourself scarce during these conversations, or (perhaps useful in a one-on-one situation) use a standard response of mine that I hope makes them think, which is along the lines of “I am not the person you should be telling this to”  or "why would you be telling this to me, of all people?"

But I’d love to hear your own suggestions of how to deal with this in the comments."

 Follow this link if you want to go over and see the original comments too.

 

It's That Day Again: The Pandemic Version

It is Mother's Day on Sunday for pretty much everywhere except the UK. This will be my second Mother's Day when I have neither a mother or mother-in-law. I'm wondering if my husband will think about doing something special for me. I doubt it, as we tend to just ignore the day. (And I'm busy trying to plan a "lockdown birthday" for him next week.) It won't go unnoticed - it never really does unless I'm travelling internationally, and even then I can't avoid the articles or blogposts or social media posts. So far there haven't been many, except some of the more-stupid-than-usual memes that just have me rolling my eyes. The years make it so much easier to feel remote from such a day.

This year, though, I know it might be harder. I think we're all a bit more vulnerable at the moment. I know I am. Most of the time I've been fine and reasonably relaxed, especially since the pandemic here was contained fairly quickly, and is largely controlled, at the moment at least. But I have had the occasional moments when I have felt emotions welling up. Unexpectedly so. Uncertainty does that to us. Loneliness does that too.

When our lockdown first began, I had several days when I had this urge to tell someone about what was going on. I kept thinking of my parents, even though my father has been gone for almost 15 years and my mother for four years, because there was no-one else to talk to about it. My sisters were busy with their families (my older sister formed a "bubble" with her daughter and their family - which strictly speaking wasn't permitted, but in practice probably didn't matter too much) and/or work, and although we chatted, we were far away, and pretty much on the bottom of their priority list. I had one of those rare moments - which has lingered, off and on - that no-one really cared how we were doing. Yes, I know it's not true. Yes, I know how lucky I have been. Yes, it could have been much worse. Yes, I'm lucky I have my husband. Yes, life didn't change too much for me. Yes, the risk outside has never been as great as it has been in Europe, the UK or the US, or other countries around the world. Yes, gratitude has helped a lot. But still. We all have little moments of loneliness that can largely be avoided in "normal life" but in a pandemic, they creep up on us. And I know that Mother's Day might make that all a bit harder too.

So. On Sunday, know that I am thinking of you all. It's just a day - we'll get through it and feel lighter afterwards. If you want to know you're not alone, here's a link to a whole bunch of Mother's Day posts I've written before. You'll see over the years that I have good M Days and bad M Days. But the best thing is that they all pass so quickly!

And check out Gateway Women. They have a replay of a one-hour Mother's Day webinar available here. And they're also doing three live "Other's Day Happy Hour Chats" on Sunday at different times to suit different times zones, where you can connect with the Gateway No Kidding community. Check out details to suit your time zone on that same link.

Update: With apologies to those I am sure to have missed, here are some other Mother's Day posts from No Kidding bloggers:

Silent Sorority's "Mother is Also a Verb."
Elaine's Muttertagsblumen (Google will translate it really well if you need that - I do!)
Sue's "Hide. It's Almost Mother's Day" post with helpful hints.

"That Day" Again

This Sunday, on The Day That Shall Not Be Named, will be the first time when both my husband and I are motherless. Whilst I am conscious he may have some emotions about that (though I've asked him, and he says he doesn't!), I also feel a degree of freedom. We also don’t celebrate the day in any form – not as a rebellion, or in an effort to reclaim it. I know some people do it successfully, but I have no wish to do so. It wouldn’t work for me. So perhaps for the first time, the day has no meaning for me.

Instead of baking a cake and visiting the in-laws, or just hibernating away from the world, this year I feel a liberation. The day now means nothing to me. I’ve seen ads (commercials) for it everywhere. A jeweller even tried to encourage people to buy gifts for “work mums” which has provoked a lot of conversation, and made me cringe. Even though I’ve played that role myself, I prefer to be called a “mentor” which is more respectful, and less sexist. After all, have you ever heard anyone talk about a “work dad.” Shudder! It gives out very creepy vibes. Anyway, I digress.

As I’ve said before about various holidays, it is only one day. Though I’ve actually disproved that myself here, where I’ve noted that if you have international friends, it lasts two days, and then throw in the UK’s day in March, and so we have three days to tolerate! And then there’s the day after when people brag about what their children did for them, so add on another day. Okay, so it is potentially four days!

But what I mean by this is that it passes, and we all forget about it. If we can stay away from social media on the day and the day after, then it can pass largely without notice. And by the Tuesday afterwards, everyone has forgotten it even happened.

So often, it is the anticipation that is hardest. I know that feeling of dread – worrying about how I will cope with the day, or what people will say to me – that this day can invoke. What I also know now though is that, after all these years, that feeling of dread fades. And I hope that gives those of you who are struggling some comfort.

It has power if we give it power. Sure, in the first few years it is hard not to succumb to the power of the day. But as time passes, it is easier to stand up straight and say, “nope, I’m not giving this day power over me.” It is easier to make our own plans to either avoid difficult situations, or to treat ourselves before or afterwards. It is easier to dismiss it as irrelevant to our lives. The guilt for not caring goes too. And you know what rushes in? A sense of relief, and freedom.

So I hope you have a freedom-filled weekend. I know I for one will be focused on other things. Packing, for one. But I will be thinking of you all too. And wrapping you up in a big hug, full of love.

A No Kidding Menopause: The emotional issues (Part 2)

(Part Two: Emotions around my hysterectomy)

When I finally sought help, and needed to undertake investigations then surgery, I wondered how I was going to feel about still more scans/procedures etc focused on my reproductive system. The first step was another scan for fibroids, ten years after my last, traumatic scans, and as I’ve only ever had bad news from an ultrasound, I was ready for any emotional reaction. But I actually found it a routine procedure. I had much less emotionally invested in this scan than I did for my ectopics. For once I did not hope for good news, and the news I received was, on the scale of bad news, actually fine. These scans are never pleasant experiences, but at least in this case, I wasn’t beset with wild emotions.

The OBGYN’s office with the Wall of Babies, on the other hand, was like a slap in the face. After the most unpleasant and humiliating pelvic examination I have ever had (and I’ve had quite a few in a teaching hospital), I stood up to put my clothes on, and was confronted with the sight of all these babies. The timing of it was awful. My guard was down, because I’d been dealing with this issue in a very matter-of-fact way. As I mentioned in Part One here, I had been deliberately not thinking about it in fertility terms. But then, suddenly, I saw the wall. Not only was I reminded that I had been through great trauma and loss when I’d been trying to have children and had last been through some of these traumatic pelvic examinations, but I was reminded that I was not in the club of grateful mothers sending photos of their babies. After an examination that had made me feel vulnerable, the Wall of Babies made me feel even more so. I immediately felt “less than.” I hadn’t experienced those feelings for a long time. (I wrote about it here, and the comments section has a lot of interesting points. I was particularly appalled at the doctor who not only has a Wall of Babies, but a Ceiling of Babies too!) I wish I’d said something. I still think about sending a note to him, or a copy of my previous post.

Once I recovered from that moment (and it did take a while), the news that I was to lose my uterus was not devastating for me. It was a means to an end, and there was no doubt this was necessary. I’d said good-bye to my once-hoped-for fertility over ten years earlier, and my uterus was just an anachronistic remnant of that. As I said to a nurse, it had never been any good to me, so it may as well go. I didn’t mourn its loss, and perhaps because I’d never blamed my body for my infertility, I didn’t hate it either. It was simply a problem to be solved.

However, that doesn’t mean that emotions weren’t involved. I remember lying in the hospital a few days after my hysterectomy, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, after my husband had visited and gone home, and everything was quiet. I had the window open, heard people in the distance, and thought about all those mothers celebrating Mother’s Day. Feeling alone, feeling the absence of children, is common on this day for many of us. Usually I manage to arrange the day so I can ignore it. But that afternoon in hospital I felt doubly low, briefly resentful that my uterus had neither delivered children, but had also caused me to be lying alone  in hospital.

That feeling didn’t last long, thankfully. And ultimately, I had fewer negative emotions around my hysterectomy than I had perhaps expected. Part of the reason may have been because I knew I was lucky. After all, I had my hysterectomy at an age which was unsurprising. But it was all a reminder that our equilibrium can be lost, even for a short time, because of our past experiences. Fortunately, it was also a reminder that we survive these episodes, that they don’t last long these days, and that equilibrium returns. 

Debrief on The Day that is Not For Us

I thought I’d report back on my Day that is Not For Us plans, as when my husband and I were ushered to our table in the little French restaurant on Saturday evening for his offical (if a day early) birthday dinner, standing next to the table was a man holding a very young child! He had to move for me to take my seat, and then sat down at the table that was next to us, and I immediately said to my husband, “the best laid plans … !”

Then the mother started speaking loudly to the third person at the table about how special mothers are, and continued doing this for the next 20 minutes. I looked at my husband, and we both had to laugh – but don’t worry, I’d done my fair share of eye-rolling prior to this. They left not long after the child gave a deafening screech in my ear, and to be fair to him, the father did apologise to us for disturbing our evening.

The following day we had a lazy, rainy day Sunday morning, picked up lunch to take to the in-laws, and then retreated home for a happy evening with some of my husband’s (and my) favourite Thai food for his birthday dinner, and binge watching a series we had recorded.

Next year I’m not going to plan at all!

Finally, I was congratulating myself about avoiding too many M Day messages … until I woke this (Monday) morning and looked at Fbk, and after seeing several self-congratulatory messages from friends (ranging from Malaysia to the US), I shut down social media for the rest of the day, kicking myself for forgetting that sometimes, being a way ahead of the rest of the world is a curse!