Spring can bring unique and difficult encounters, as outlined by Lucy, a long-time blog reader from a country in Eastern Europe. I remember the first comment she made, and the instant connection we felt despite the miles and potential language barriers. Some experiences transcend ordinary words or lead to their own language and understanding. Fortunately, she speaks English fluently and shares these thoughts with us today:
I am the girl from page 151 of Pamela’s wonderful book. I’m not mentioned by name, but by country. Slovenia. (I was so excited when reading the book I found the name and I new instantly it was me! I just love Pamela’s blog and all the friendly comments. I feel like I’m finding home.)
Everybody loves spring. It is warm and sunny. But there is one awful thing about the spring: mothers with babies are everywhere. Living in a small city, it is hard to avoid them. It is hard to avoid small talk. We all know the question: “So, how are you? Anything new?”
What can I tell? That I have a new job? That we just came back from lovely holidays in Argentina? That my heart is still broken because our 7th IVF didn’t work out? But I know what they are asking. No, no news. I am not pregnant and I will probably never be. I am nearly 40, so my biological clock is definitely tick-tocking.
I used to be a happy, sunny girl, with lots of friends. I used to go out with four other girls and we had so much fun together. And then within few years 8 beautiful healthy children were born. Of course I was happy for my friends, each time when the news came. But at the same time heartbroken for us.
Once we had a coffee date – just 5 girls. And then they started their mummy talk. And guess what – none of them even noticed that I hadn’t spoken a word for two hours. And then they started a new topic: how stupid are the women, who do not breastfeed. Because it increases the risk of breast cancer. Gosh, that was too much. I just left. And never returned. I prefer to be alone as lonely among people.
During IVF treatments I met some new friends (some eventually got children, some divorced and got children with new partner, some adopted, some gave up and some are still hoping and trying). I learned one thing: infertility can either destroy a marriage or make it stronger.
Our marriage definitely got stronger. He is the love of my life. I love being with him.
Last year Maria, a good friend of mine from Spain, suddenly died, because of heart failure. (Maria, if you are reading my post from heaven, I miss you terribly!!) And with Maria’s death I realized that I have only one life. And if I am not happy in this life, when will I be?
I started to live life so that each day there is something I look forward and that makes my day nice. It can be a long walk through the forest, reading a nice book, or just surfing the internet and dreaming about the next one-month-holiday on another continent.
And I really hope that one day (when I am old and grey) I will be able to say: this is not the life that I planned, but no other life would I like to have more.
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Note: Not unlike the springtime challenges Lucy describes, we are days away from a dreaded Hallmark holiday here in the U.S. It’s hard not to feel under siege as a result of incessant, pervasive advertising. For more on how “non-moms” respond, you can read last year’s blog post . I also encourage you to take a look at Kim’s research on Mother’s Day. We’ve come a long way from its humble beginning. If you have a guest post you’d like to share, please email me at ptsigdinos (@) yahoo dot com.