Putting our yearning on a shelf

I saw a graphic this morning that I really wanted to share with you, but it wasn't credited, and had been copied and edited, and I'm uncomfortable with using someone else's work Effectively, it was about acceptance, in an entirely different context. 

It comes down to the simple idea that acceptance is not fighting against the facts of our lives. Acceptance is simply recognising what those facts are. Then getting on with life.

That's the first step. For many of us, acceptance then takes a further step towards embracing our lives as they are, and seeing what they can be. And as we know, they can be beautiful. 

I'm really sorry - the graphic would have made this point much more succintly, and would have made you smile!

But in a previous post several years ago, a commenter (and former blogger) Jamie, summed it all up rather beautifully as follows:

"Sometimes it's hard to let go and you have to do so on your own timeline. However, happiness is what you miss out on when the yearning is too big. I think that is why I took a break. While the yearning was lessening, it was far too present. I needed to put it up on the shelf to allow myself to be more than and to make more space for happiness."

Inaccurate Thinking and Self-compassion

 Some time ago I read six words that I thought were terribly sad. The words were:

“I still wish I had children.”

I found them terribly sad not for the obvious reason. Yes, it is undeniably sad that they wanted children, and were not able to have them for whatever reason. I have enormous compassion for them because of this. I share in that experience. But that’s not the reason why I felt sad for the blogger. I felt sad because, years later, they have been unable to let go.

Sure, I’ve probably thought those words in the past. And yes, there are times when I feel the sadness of not having children, which is maybe what the person meant. That they wish their lives had been different. That they meant to say, “I wish I had had children.” This could all be my misunderstanding of a simple statement. Because I think we all understand that sentiment. I certainly do. Accepting what has happened, and moving into the future, doesn’t mean that we didn’t want something different, or that we occasionally wish it had been otherwise.

But I thought it was worth writing about, because what if this blogger actually does sit in their home, in the present day, years later, wishing they had children? I know there are people who feel this ways. I had an online (and then in real life) friend who would talk about bursting into tears in her 60s because she had seen children or pregnant women at the doctor’s office. She had moved on, but only to an extent.

And if that is the way this person feels, then I feel enormous compassion for them. Personally, I cannot imagine saying the words, “I still wish I had children” any more. I haven’t really felt that for years. The sentiment seems pointless to me. I never had children when I was younger. I’m never going to have them now. It would be a fantasy to wish I had something that is impossible. Why would I do that? There are enough instances in the average day or week that remind me I don’t have children, and remind me what my life could have looked like if I had had them. I don’t need to fantasise. Yet obviously, some people still do it.

Of course, it may work for them. We all cope differently. They may have a moment or a minute or an hour wishing they had children, have a bit of a cry, and then move on with their life. Of course, if they feel better after that, then they have found a way to mourn and to live. It may work for them, but it wouldn’t work for me. If I did that, I would be only focusing on what was bad about my life without children, and I would be thinking about only the good things about having children. It would be negative thinking, not accurate thinking. It would be living in a fantasy world, rather than acknowledging the good things in my life today. Some of those good things are a result of not having children. But worst of all, if I felt that way and allowed myself to regularly feel that way, it would be extremely emotionally difficult, and incredibly unkind to myself. I can’t imagine letting myself feel that way, and then wrenching myself away from the fantasy back to real life. A form of self-torture!

Teaching myself NOT to wish that things were different was a major step in healing. It was the beginnings of acceptance, and was, in reality, the first step of that process. I remember opening a cupboard where I used to keep the folic acid. There were still some tablets left, and I thought, “maybe, just in case, I should keep them.” Then my logical brain kicked in. “That’s not going to happen,” I realised. I remember repeating it to myself to make sure I fully registered the meaning. It hurt. That first time it really hurt. But I picked up the folic acid bottle, and threw it away. And the next time a thought like that slipped through, it was a tiny bit easier. It is the same as denying those negative thoughts I’ve written about before. I learned to address them and then dismiss them, and I am so pleased I did.

As I wrote a few weeks ago, indulging in wishful thinking when all doors were now closed to me would be inaccurate thinking at best. At worst, it would be self-punishment and denial. I have not been perfect at learning not to do it. But gradually I was able to recognise it for what it was, and to turn away from it. This helped me enormously. It was an act of self-compassion. And it became habit. And it allowed me to look forward, to breathe, and to live in the present and think about my future, rather than staying in the past.

 

 

Moving Forwards

I wanted to write a lot more about World Childless Week than I have been able to, due to some other events around me (FIL faded rapidly and died last week).  

The final topic of the week was Moving Forwards. I feel as if that is the topic of this entire blog – showing that it is possible to move forward, to embrace our lives, find new things we love, or find that what we have is enough. There’s no need for a big change if that’s not your style. But if it is, then embracing your No Kidding life might give you the opportunity to do so. We all know that life and obligations (yes, the childless still have obligations!) can get in the way of our ambitions. But finding what is right for us, and learning to enjoy it, is the key to happiness. That’s true for everyone. To live your life, and know that it is enough. You are enough. We are enough.

When I lost my first two pregnancies I was in the process of moving from a career that had been first in government and then a large company. Being self-employed was a dream. I set up a business, which ran for a while then was sadly neglected. Ectopic pregnancies and infertility and other opportunities got in the way. My business was to develop travel itineraries for people who want to travel, but are too busy to plan their travel. I got some clients, and did some free jobs for others, but in the midst of infertility treatments and ectopic pregnancies, found it harder to have confidence in myself, and when other opportunities came along, they took precedence. I still have the business, but it hasn’t been active for years, although I have talked about reviving it – but COVID is really the last straw!

Contract work in my former field of international consulting with developing countries and developing agencies took more of my time. I also gained a couple of directorships in this field, and – right at the time I was feeling most vulnerable around pregnancy loss and infertility – I took on a leadership role on a Board of Directors. I didn’t feel confident at all, but was encouraged by friends into the role. I’m glad I took it. And as I had healed, I changed from being a user of an Ectopic Pregnancy charity website in the UK, to being a moderator/advisor/mentor. As the years went on, I came to love and appreciate this mix of activities and interests, and for one of the first times in my life became familiar with a feeling of contentment!

It wasn’t my ideal plan B. If you can find an ideal plan B and pursue it, then you’re lucky! My life-long dream to again live and work overseas, and the opportunities to do so, could not be pursued because we felt obligated to remain in this city caring for my aged in-laws. Then job redundancy, ageism in the workplace, health issues, parental health issues and deaths and further deterioration all kept us here too. But we adapted. We travelled when we could, and how we could – a highlight was a three-month period (as part of a longer trip) in Italy when my in-laws were still capable of looking after themselves day-to-day, and we took shorter trips when a brother or a cousin and others could step in and help out if necessary. The stereotype of the childless couple that lives a free and easy life travelling the world isn’t actually that common. Because … life steps in. It doesn’t mean that we are not moving forwards. We are. Because we are designing the life we want, as much as we can do so. And to me, that is what moving forwards means.

So we take pleasure in the little things in life. I took up photography, and we appreciated the little things in life – walks around the harbour or through our native bush, short holidays, drinks and dinner with friends, blogging and writing, gardens, golf, etc etc. It has been especially helpful in the times of COVID, when travel isn’t an option anyway. We’ve learnt to adapt, and continue on with our lives, embracing what we have. I see my fellow No Kidding friends doing the same, all over the world, and I am so incredibly proud of all of us. Living our lives, with awareness and gratitude. That’s the very definition of Moving Forwards.