I’ve always been a creature of habit. Chalk it up to being raised in a home with a steady schedule, I find comfort in knowing what the day will look like. For many years, this daily habit included running. For an hour or so before every work day, I’d meet a friend and run along the canals in Tempe. Eventually, this routine caught up with my joints and left me hobbling. There wasn’t a huge physical change when I stopped, but the lack of endorphins caught up with me quickly. I still miss the running high, enough to foolishly try to run a few miles here and there every now and then. (If I thought I hobbled before, you should see me the day after one of these optimistic outings. It is not pretty.)
My new routine, thanks to having yet another terrier who won’t sit still, involves an hour or so of walking. We live in a “hilly” area and after 4-5 miles in the heat, both Dolly and I are ready for the day. By the time I’m showered and ready for work at the kitchen counter, she’s conked out on the couch. This time walking allows for listening to books and podcasts, so it isn’t all puppy dog tails and hot sidewalks. We’ve also become friends with all the other neighbors who walk at this time.
This morning, I got out of a cool shower and realized I feel like myself. For the first time in a very long time, I feel happy and at peace. Give it to endorphins, getting the exercise out of the way first thing, or being back to a normal routine — but I feel good in my own skin. All this walking has my clothes fitting more comfortably and my skin tanner by the day. But more than anything, I’m not crying as much. For many months, I felt a heavy weight of sadness. I carried it with me constantly, and the only way I knew to make it feel better was to make fun of it. I’ve made far too many people I love uncomfortable by cracking jokes about my barren body.
Making friends laugh has been the only way through this; looking at how terrible the situation is and going, “Wow, man. This is awful. Let’s find the funny. Help me find the funny.” And because I have great friends (and spouse), they all have.
Let me tell you, it take a long time to get all of those fertility drugs out of your system, the extra weight off, and to feel like you can watch a sappy commercial or anything on the Hallmark channel without having to wash your face. But this morning, dear Reader, I got dressed and was like, “DAMN GIRL. YOU GOT THIS.” And that was the first time in a long while that I laughed at and with myself, all while screaming Taylor Swift songs to the dogs.
I know how to paint a scene, right?
I’ve come to a place of acceptance that I won’t be a mother, but instead am called to be a great aunt. I have more maternal love and energy than I know what to do with most days, but the neighborhood children, animals, garden, and friends receive this instead. (Thank goodness for the patience they all continue to show. My sister in law, in particular, is the best.) When the occasional moment or day is dark, I find comfort in my faith and the hope that one day, in the next life, there will be children waiting for me, wanting my love.
In the meantime, there are so many people to love and to make laugh here.