No Kidding 2020 Project: Day 6 - Forgive

There’s often a lot of self-blame and guilt around infertility or childlessness. We blame ourselves for not finding a partner, or not trying for children earlier, or for having bodies that don’t do what we want them to do. But these issues are not blame-worthy. We live our lives trying to make the best decisions with the information we have at hand, or with the capabilities we have at the time..

Whilst the information I had when I decided to wait to try to have a child may have been flawed (it was), my intentions weren’t. I didn’t want to have a child until I was ready, not for selfish reasons, but because I felt it wouldn’t be fair to a child to have them before that. I don’t know if trying earlier would have made a difference. But I do know there’s no point in self-recriminations, or in feeling guilty. Likewise, I do not and never have hated my body, even though it could not seem to get a fertilised egg to my uterus successfully. I forgive it. I forgive myself for the decisions I made. I forgive my husband for his decisions too. We all did our best. It just didn’t get us what we wanted. 

Forgiving ourselves is one of the most important things we can do to help our recovery. It enables us to begin to look forward, to feel joy, and to love ourselves. I've written about this before here. It helps us get over new things that might haunt us too.

And because it is important, it is my message again today:

• Forgive yourself.
• Forgive your body (or your partner’s body) for not being able to have children. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn't a punishment, it wasn't a short-coming. It simply was, as much as the colour of your hair, or whether or not you wear glasses, or how athletic you are, part of who you are.
• Forgive yourself, and let go of the blame.
• Frgive yourself for waiting, for whatever reason.
• Forgive yourself for your financial limitations.
• Forgive yourself for recognising your emotional limits.
• Forgive yourself for not going to the ends of the earth.
• Forgive yourself for recognising that your sanity is important.
• Forgive yourself for recognising that your relationship(s) is(are) important.
• Forgive yourself.

You cannot change what you refuse to confront

This speaks to me, as I bemoan my messy office (whilst editing photographs or writing blog posts), my desire to lose weight (but my love of food and wine), my lack of income (but my procrastination about launching a new business), etc.

But it is relevant in the infertility context too, as we know that when we are trying to conceive, it is easy to single-mindedly pursue our goals, refusing to confront the prospect that we may never conceive or carry to term successfully, whilst desperately wanting the pain and frustration of infertility to end. Confronting that pain is the first step to changing the pain, and walking through that neglected door in the Infertility Waiting Room that I’ve written about before.

Once we are through the door, and living a No Kidding life, it can be easy to feel we’re going through the motions of life, without realising that we first need to confront ourselves, and our thoughts and beliefs that can so easily keep us feeling miserable, or thrust us back into grief. Confronting those negative thoughts about our lives, and the way others might perceive us, can help us reprogramme our brains, change the way we think, and live more contented and compassionate (to ourselves and others) lives.

It’s a constant lesson for me, one that well over a decade later I am still learning. At first, it was important to confront the thoughts about my worth, whether I deserved my fate or not, but now, I find myself confronting my feelings about how others react to me, deciding whether I can educate, be compassionate to what might motivate others to act or be insensitive, or to forgive and let it go. The compassion and forgiveness come more easily, as does the willingness to speak up and educate, to be matter-of-fact but kind, and most importantly, I try not to criticise or blame, but of course, this is all still a work in progress, because, well, that’s life.

#Microblog Mondays: The healing powers of kindness

Kindness played a big role in my healing. I was fortunate to experience kindness from online friends, in an open, loving, generous way that I'd never really experienced before. It was like receiving multiple warm, enveloping hugs full of love, just when I needed them. I think in our daily lives we are often more reserved (this is certainly the case with my family and friends), where we hope that our kindness is evident in our actions, rather than more openly in words or hugs.

Probably like most of us, I am not always kind, although I don't think I'm necessarily unkind either. But I find that when I am kind, my whole demeanour softens, it is easier to understand others and why they do and say the things they do, and it is much easier to forgive. My heart eases, a tense body relaxes, and I find it easier to smile. Kindness - it works both ways.

 

Those comments

When we're going through infertility, we fear those* comments.  The comments that are going to hurt, the comments that are judgemental, the comments that accuse us, imply that we are selfish, or not mature enough to be parents, that we are lacking somehow.  Those comments bite into us, and leave scars.  And often, in an attempt to armour ourselves against these comments, we start anticipating them.  We imagine the worst that someone might say to us, so that we will be prepared.  But as we imagine these things, we are doing even more damage to our already damaged psyche.  When what we need to do is heal those wounds.  But sometimes it feels as if the wounds will never be healed, as if the scars themselves will always be painful.

But they won't.  Nine years on since I learned I would never have children, I can tell you they won't.  I've grown so much as a result of this - putting much less emphasis on what other people think, and more emphasis on what I believe.  I have put work into figuring out what it is I believe, and to be comfortable with that.  And the answer is that it won't always hurt.  The pain fades.  You become stronger and more able to cope, even when the comments come.

In particular, I've learned three things that make it easier:

1.  Once you're in your 40s (and eventually, gah - 50s) people don't ask you about when you're having children anymore.  I'm very rarely asked if I have children, and when I am asked, and I just reply "no" the subject is changed.  No big deal.  In your 40s and 50s, people's children are usually growing up, leaving home, and the parents are starting to enjoy (or at least, to anticipate a future when they can enjoy) a child free life themselves.  I figure I have at least a decade or more to enjoy this, before the grandchildren issue kicks in in full force.

2.  You realise that the comments are all about the people who make them - their bias, their ignorance, their insensitivity, and sometimes, their own insecurities.   Let them make judgements, I think now, because they're so ignorant they know not what they do.  If I can, I forgive them for what they've said.  I can laugh at some of the worst comments or judgements.  Because I know they're not true.  It becomes much easier to let them slide off when you don't let them attach in the first place.

3.  I feel confident enough in myself now to counter their statements, to point out if they're just plain wrong, or if they're insensitive or rude or biased against people without children.  I do it calmly, in a nice way, and sometimes jokingly.  I will laugh, but make my point.  I don't put pressure on myself to do that.  But it does feel empowering to be able to stand up for myself, strongly, proudly.


*This post started off as a comment on Life Without Baby

Forgiveness

What is the single most important thing a person can do for themselves, once they've made the decision to let go of becoming a parent entirely?

Tracy of Belette Rouge was asked this at a symposium. I liked her answer, but it got me thinking about  what mine would be.  And I think I concluded that it would be simply be to forgive.

Forgive yourself.
Forgive your body (or your partner’s body) for not being able to have children. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn't a punishment, it wasn't a short-coming. It simply was, as much as the colour of your hair, or whether or not you wear glasses, or how athletic you are, part of who you are.
Forgive yourself, and let go of the blame.
Forgive yourself for not trying to have children when you were very young. *
Forgive yourself for your financial limitations.
Forgive yourself for recognising your emotional limits.
Forgive yourself for not going to the ends of the earth.
Forgive yourself for recognising that your sanity is important.
Forgive yourself for recognising that your relationship(s) is(are) important.
Forgive yourself.

* if this applies to you