15 years

This week, on Wednesday, in fact, my little blog turns fifteen years old. Fifteen years ago, I found I needed an outlet for thoughts about not having children, at a time when I was almost daily volunteering on the Ectopic Pregnancy Trust's messageboard, helping and reassuring women who were going through ectopic pregnancies, that they had a 90% chance that their next pregnancy would be in the right place. Ironically, as I think back, three of the five main volunteers over those years did not go on to have successful pregnancies, yet daily we reassured women that the odds were in their favour. It felt good to help them. But it also felt good to help those who were not going to be that lucky. They needed us. They needed me. 

There were no other No Kidding communities where I felt I could go. I searched blogs, and found Pamela's Silent Sorority blog, and Loribeth's Road Less Travelled. Both were women about my age and situation. I could related. But I didn't just want to read. After six years of volunteering, I had all those thoughts and growth of my own, and a lot of gleaned wisdom from my wonderful fellow volunteers, that I felt deserved to be continued to be voiced too. I was finally confident in how I felt about not having children living a No Kidding life that meant I wasn't yet ready just to put it all away and pretend it hadn't happened. 

15 years later, I'm still not ready to do that, although I know my posting has slowed down considerably! But I still have things to write about. I see a comment pop up in a completely different context, and see how it applies to those of us living No Kidding lives, and feel the urge to write about it. That's next week's post (accidentally published for this week until I reverted it to a draft when I discovered it was my 15 year anniversary).  

15 years later, No Kidding lives are talked about a bit more. But pronatalism/natalism is still dominant in our societies. Here in New Zealand, in my peer group, I am thankfully usually free of it. It makes my everyday life easier. I'm grateful for that. 15 years later, my name is now out there as someone who has spoken out for those who don't have children. I'm still not sure how I feel about that, but if I don't think about it, I'm fine! 

15 years later, I have real friends through this blogging community. Some have children. Many don't. We chat on blogs, or via zoom, on whatsapp, or other means. And of course I've been lucky to meet a few bloggers in person - Pamela, Klara, Lilly, and Lesley. I was going to say "in real life" but of course, over 15 years of interactions, I consider this "real life" too. Meeting in person is very special though, when we already know each other "inside out." I hope to meet more of you, here in NZ or on my travels.

Thanks for reading, being here, writing in parallel on your own blogs, being part of my No Kidding life. I'm not sure how much longer I will continue, as blogs seem to fall out of favour, and readers dwindle. But if I can reach one new person, it's worth continuing. And keeping you all in my life is important to me too. I'm not kidding. I love being part of an intelligent, thoughtful, supportive community. Thank you all.

 

Quotes in homage of the No Kidding blogging community

I love a good quote. Regular readers know that already! I love finding that someone has perfectly, succinctly, eloquently expressed an emotion I have not previously been able to articulate. Or when I read a quote that has expressed a feeling or belief I have had, and I see it validated in print. (If only I could memorise them all when I first read them.) Quotes can go a long way – much further than a too-wordy blogpost! And so, today’s post again highlights thoughts from the insightful Maya Angelou:

“If you are always trying to be normal, you’ll never know how amazing you can be.”

This seems to be made for the No Kidding community. We feel ever so normal until we find we will never have children. All of a sudden, we are isolated, judged, and seen as different. Not normal, even. But look around at our No Kidding blogging community. They embody this quote, and are truly amazing. I hope they know it.

“When you learn, teach, when you get, give.”

As a lifelong learner, I love this. I think it is also a special strength of our blogging community. Going through something difficult teaches us so many things. My Gifts of Infertility series is evidence of how that worked for me. This community gives us so much support when we need it. Passing it on through our blogs, and giving and taking the community support that has grown here, helps many. Teaching as we learn, giving as we get. This is such a good example for our lives.

And last but never least,

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”
                                                                                   Maya Angelou

 

 

Monday Miscellany: Tribes, and Recovery

I just found something that made me happy. The first ever comment from Loribeth, on my blog A Separate Life, back in early October 2010, before I even started No Kidding in NZ here. Thanks, Loribeth! She mentioned finding me on Pamela's blog, which was the first one I found. Thirteen years ago. It feels like ancient history now, I've been writing here so long! And I was already almost seven years into my No Kidding life. Yet I felt the need to write about the subject. My post that Loribeth commented on was about intolerance - including in the No Kidding communities. So a month or so later, I started No Kidding in NZ. I felt that I still needed support, and knew that I could also give support. I wanted to find my tribe. And I did. You!

I had drinks and dinner recently with an old friend. She was telling me about a friend of hers who was struggling with her split from her husband. My friend has been through this too. She pointed out that the loss and recovery - effectively the grief process - lasts so much longer than people think. It took her about five years, she estimated, probably prolonged due to the behaviour of her ex. But it was a longer process than she had expected, or that others really realised.

It reminded me of going through my ectopics. Everyone thought I'd be over it in a few weeks. Then there was the permanent transition from infertility to childlessness that was a loss and grief that wasn't even recognised by most. It took me a couple of years to work through that intense loss, and longer to start to feel like me again. Of course, there were lots of good moments during that time, as gradually I felt better and better, came to acceptance and understanding, learned resilience and coping methods. But it is a process, and like that of my friend, and her friend, and as I did, each year you'll notice you recover sooner, bounce back more easily, and learn to live with yourself. Becoming resilient. Embracing and celebrating as you go along.

Mixed emotions of No Kidding blogging

The mixed emotions of blogging. I wrote a long post last week. The reason it was so long is that I added several qualifying paragraphs to pre-empt any criticism. I was telling my DH, and he said “you should just write what you want and think, and don’t worry about others.” But I’ve had criticism before, and whilst I don’t mind it (and it can lead to very interesting conversations), it can distract from my main points. And so it is often easier to explain myself beforehand. That said, sometimes all the explaining in the world doesn’t avoid people misinterpreting what I’ve said, or to whom I have said it, or who it is about. I’m tempted to revisit the post, take out all the qualifications, and then see how long it is! But still, having all those qualifications in there, the explanations of the differences between the various stages of grief, the things that I have tried and what worked or did not work, can give legitimacy to my theme too. I’m definitely not being blasé about healing or dismissive of grief. I think about these things, and I think about their impact on us. So then I try to explain that. Apologies for being long-winded sometimes, and thanks for bearing with me.

My labels are out of control! I am so frustrated. How can I ever get them in order? There are 247 different labels, which is a ridiculous number! I am going to try to consolidate them, so it is easier for me to find posts that I know I’ve written, but can never find. I think I decide on labels at the time of posting, thinking about what people might be searching for (and how they might spell it in the US vs NZ vs UK for example), which explains why I have so many. Of course, there are 826 posts on this blog so far. Actually, this one makes 827. That’s a lot of writing about not having children, being childless or childfree (depending on my mood), and not kidding! On reflection, I started this paragraph feeling overwhelmed, and I’ve ended it feeling quite proud.

Now I’m embarrassed. I have a topic I’ve been meaning to attend to again every Valentine’s Day. As usual, I think Mel might have started it, writing Bloggy Valentines for other bloggers. I did it once, here, eight years ago. Each year I see a note about it, but each year I've missed the date. It's now March, and I forgot again. Oops. Maybe next year. (Yes, I need to put it in my calendar.)

I’m back to blogging frustration, with a degree of annoyance thrown in. I’ve read a little Rebecca Solnit on plagiarism, stealing ideas, or people copying ideas but using their own words. I’ve seen this happen in blogging. I’ve seen some of my posts or ideas repeated but without reference, over and over again, sometimes with disturbingly familiar turns of phrase. Maybe it’s because I’ve been writing for 10+ years, and I've covered all the bases? Maybe it’s coincidental and inevitable that we all come to the same realisations and conclusions. But maybe it isn't that innocent. And so others get more attention for their work based on my ideas/words than I do. It hurts. All the pain and effort I’ve put in to develop my ideas, my blogs, my approach to my No Kidding life. A blogger’s dilemma. It is hard to prove. It would be nice occasionally to see a reference back to my original writings, as I try to reference any blogger that inspires me to want to think more deeply, or to expand on their original (appropriately credited) ideas or where I might find a twist using my own experience. I don’t accuse my own regular readers of this. You are all too nice. But I do accuse some others, who know of me and my work, but don’t comment or interact here because they're focused on their bigger platforms. I’m not sure if I want to finish with a sigh, an anguished argh, or an angry grrrr. Maybe all of the above.