Relief is the feeling that floods your body when you know there’s a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
I’ve felt relief many times throughout my life. Relief in knowing my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Cote, still liked me after she scolded me for not being compassionate enough toward another student. Relief at realizing I could help my mother keep the household functioning when she had to leave my father, my siblings and me during an unexpected health issue with my grandparents. More relief as I learned a highly-ranked university accepted me when I felt I wasn’t sufficiently qualified. Then, there was the day I learned my university chose me as a resident advisor to a dorm full of freshman who needed a guiding light in their first years away from their families.
Relief As An Adult
At the same time, relief is also the sense of knowing my fears would not be fully realized. The day I realized that my sense of inadequacy was simply my overactive mind being my toughest critic.
Comfort of a different sort infused me while serving as a volunteer on the midnight shift at the university neonatal infant (NICU) ward. It happened when a tiny, helpless premature baby coo’ed back when I smiled and coo’ed at them. Then there was the elation I felt at landing my first professional full-time job. Relief in discovering a new life awaited me on the other side infertility hell.
If it isn’t abundantly obvious, I am well acquainted with the sense of reassurance things will be fine in the face of intense worrying or panic. So, even though I knew better than to live in fear, a renewed feeling of relief and consolation came over me this week.
Breathing Deeply
The first sign in recent days? Alex and I each received confirmation we were eligible for a COVID vaccine. Finally! Soon after the needle pierced my arm, I booked a flight in early May to Michigan. The trip is timed to when my vaccination will be fully effective. I am so relieved to know I can finally hug my mother and fragile father and laugh in person with my sisters for the first time in 17 months.
Also this week, I prepared for a more somber encounter with 20+ women in the midst of invasive treatments for infertility. The Zoom gathering I agreed to in January was upon me. With care and extra sensitivity I watched as 15 faces came into view, all 20 years my junior. Others, too raw with emotion, simply logged in with their names.
For the next two hours we talked and reflected on the insatiable hunger we’ve each felt to feel our child stir in our womb and to cradle our children in our arms. We teared up talking about the pain and loss we’d endured. There was an ebb and flow of questions about what happens when life doesn’t go according to plan. Is there any relief from the suffering and pain? Can you ever be around children again without feeling suffocated with grief? Yes, I told them. It’s clear, however, not much has changed in the nearly 18 years since I stopped pursuing IVF treatment. Our conversations were private and not for publication so I will leave it there.
More Reflections
Meanwhile, Jody Day reached out this week. She has formed a new conscious childless elderwoman initiative. Kudos to Jody for once again identifying and addressing a new need for women like us as we age in a society that doesn’t recognize our existence. She asked if I had time to join a Spring Equinox conversation this Saturday. Since I’m still in COVID isolation awaiting vaccine dose #2, I said, “yes, absolutely!”
UPDATE: Fortunately, Jody taped the session here.session here.
Dear Pamela, I am very happy that you have already got the vaccine! And – I am looking forward to listening to you & the others tomorrow!
I was already signed up for the fireside chat tomorrow; extra reason to be there now, knowing you’ll be there too, Pamela! :) Glad to hear you were connecting with the (cough!) “younger” generation… I am sitting in on the Childless Collective Summit right now with mixed feelings — mindblown that there are almost 2500 (!!) people signed up for the summit — something I don’t think either of us could have imagined when we started blogging in 2007! — enjoying all the insights & connections with old friends & new — but frustrated that there are still so many people out there in pain who don’t know where to turn and who aren’t aware of the resources and connections that you & others have been trying so hard to build over the past decade. We’ve come a long way, but we obviously still have work to do…
Glad you got your first shots & booked your trip home… I will be doing the same as soon as I can too! (Still waiting on the vaccine front but hopefully not too much longer…!)
Congrats on the vaccine! Very exciting! And yes, that relief, that feeling that “I’m going to be okay” is such a good feeling after all the uncertainty and anxiety that precedes it. The fireside chat sounds amazing, trying to figure out time zones and I think it’s 4 pm for New York? I might be able to make it, such important discussions and community.
Thanks, Jess! Could not agree more about the importance of feeling okay.
No worries if you couldn’t join us live. Jody recorded and posted it here for viewing when you have time: https://fb.watch/4mB-GwVsdI/