Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Struggling with Happiness

Can I just say that I am tired? I am bone weary. I'm tired of trying to have a baby. I'm tired of waiting. I am tired of re-grieving old losses with each new one. I am tired of hearing about people who get pregnant easily. I am tired of trying to be happy.

I know from experience that happiness is a choice. I can choose to notice what is working, instead of what is not. I can notice how nice it is to have the warm summer sun on my face. I can dance. I can, simply, smile. Sometimes, like today, it is just hard. Today, I don't want to try to be happy. I don't want to work at it - I just want to have it come easily.

I woke up to the sound of birds singing this morning. Usually this is a happy sound, a magical way to start the new day. This morning a part of me knew that I was supposed to feel good at the sound, a part of me wanted to feel good, but the part that was in charge this morning just noticed that it was summer. Again. And I still don't have a baby. I am still not pregnant.

Two years ago, after several failed IUI attempts and 9 months after Ernest was born, Brad and I sat on a roof downtown to watch the 4th of July fireworks. We told each other this time next year we would have a baby and would need to stay home because the sound would scare our baby. Or at the very least I would be pregnant. We toasted to this time next year. In two weeks we will celebrate the second anniversary of this time next year. I don't harbor any false hopes that this time next year 2008 will be any different. Ok, I do have some hope that we will be pregnant. And perhaps that is the problem.

You see, I have many this time next year anniversaries. If I had a dollar for every time I thought or said this time next year I would be able to pay for all our fertility treatments. (Well, maybe I would need $50.00 for each time) There is a bush that grows along a walk I used to take daily that produces these very ovary-like seed pods. I remember holding one and thinking this time next year I will be sharing this with our child. The bush is ripe with ovaries right now. There is the annual backpacking trip - the one I missed last year because I was pregnant and it was a strenuous hike and I didn't want to take the chance. There is the winter night at the local bakery. And of course, every holiday and birthday. All these little reminders to sting you and say, "Another year and what has your money, hope and effort brought you?" It has brought me more opportunities to practice being happy.

Still, today I want things to be going so well that happiness comes easily. I want to be bursting with joy at the thought of getting woken up in the middle of the night to feed our newborn. I want to show a 2 and half year old Ernest the peas that are growing in the garden. I want to skip barefoot through the park with our son - or at least holding our baby - or even with the hope that this baby would make it to term.

But today won't be like that. Today I will try to be happy. Today I will work on the baby poncho I am crocheting and think about a Someday Baby who might wear it. Today I will turn my face into the sun and try to feel its warmth. Today I will repeat three magical words to myself: "All is well." Today I will take our dog, Ender, for a walk along the river and dream about the day, maybe even this time next year when I will be taking that walk while resting my hands on a belly swollen with life.

9 comments:

Shellie said...

I understand what you mean as I have some of those same thoughts and feelings. Life is never fair and that fact sucks especially for people like you and me.

Sometimes we have to live in the moment whether that moment is good, bad, happy or sad. Right now you are living a sad moment and it's okay. Maybe tomorrow will be different.

xoxo

The Town Criers said...

I came with the iced tea you ordered eons ago. I think the way Shellie put it was perfect: the moment right now may not be one of happiness. And maybe you just need to be like this in this moment. And I hope in the next moment, the clouds part.

Carlynn said...

That was a lovely post. I feel like that often, just tired of everything, tired of trying, tired of seeing the good side of life, just bone tired.

I hope so much that this time next year your belly is swollen with life and that a few months afterwards you are walking with your baby past the ovary pods.

I'm so sorry about Ernest.

Jenna said...

I can so appreciate your sentiments. I often find myself either very happy (usually when I beign a cycle and there is so much possibility) or extreme anger and sadness (the day of the inevitable BFN). But most of the time, I waver in a pergatory of infertility where I really don't know how I feel from one moment to the next. I'm tired too. we can be tired together hun. I'm thinking about you and wishing you better days.

Pamela Jeanne said...

Thanks for visiting my blog. I think you've captured the essence of a very important idea: practicing to be happy. I've felt that way, but you've summed it up most poignantly. I'm going to add you to my blogroll. In the meantime, I wish us both naturally occurring happiness.

Jenna said...

Hi Kami, I'm visiting again from the blogroll. I've already posted on this article, but I wanted to tell you how happy am that this one was chosen to share. It was a great exaplin of your very very fine writing.

Geohde said...

I understand on the bone-weary fatigue of trying and trying and trying.....whilst also trying to have some sembelence of joy in other aspects of life.

It is, indeed, difficult.

J

theviewfromthisplace said...

you right so beautifully. i see the point of this post was not necessarily to bring hope, but it has done just that. i'm so happy you got your take home baby.
i hope one day i will too.

Smiling said...

I just found this post from the link on your post this week.

Wow - what a journey you have been on these past 12 months.

So many of your words in this post could have been mine a couple months ago - if I wrote as well as you... I didn't realize until I read this how many 'this time next years' I have. I guess that is hope's way of creaping in, fueling us to take another step.

Reading your story is another way I keep my hope from being completely crushed so that I can keep taking steps forward towards this time next year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me this gift.