National Quemoy University, Kinmen Island, Taiwan It is my birthday and I have only fully realized it because I wrote out the date just now. I am 32 years old and the past two weeks have been some of the most eye opening to my life that I've ever had. I am realizing that I am exactly what I never thought I would be – a successful, childless workaholic. I know I constantly worry about not doing something with my life and about having to give up my interests to have kids. But it has literally never crossed my mind what my life looks like to the outside world until this month. It started during a phone conversation with my mom. She asked me if we were trying to get pregnant and I was floored. I assumed that would just be obvious to everyone since I am turning 32. Even my mom didn't think it was an obvious thing. Then I actually heard myself speaking in some of my conversations with people – I was preparing to travel internationally for my job while also finishing up my school semester while considering applying to Harvard while publishing a paper while joining staff at a church. While living in the third most expensive city in the United States. I've been so focused on figuring out how to not lose my goals that I have been totally blind to my success in them and again, how I must look to the people around me. I have been addicted to success and work. I also have been legitimately trying to figure out how I am supposed to use my gifts and talents. Right now I have a choice before me – I cannot use all of my gifts and talents to their full extent without burning myself out. I cannot have a family while using all of my gifts and talents. So which ones will I use? I am 32 years old, have been working like a mad woman for four years, and am burnt out. It is time that I get my shit in order and stop trying to do it all and instead focus on how to live while using the gifts I care about the most and have the most peace about. I grew up hearing yuppies referred to in only negative terms. Good Christians had children early and valued their families more than anything else. I have had no paradigm for seeing myself as a thirty-something, successful urbanite because I was trying very very hard to not be selfish in my decisions and I grew up thinking that yuppies were simply the result of selfish, immature motivations. I constantly heard yuppies referred to as the result of never being willing to grow up and be an adult, and I have tried very hard to work against that. And yet, here I am. The very definition of a childless thirty-something-year-old woman who is doing well in her work. I am more the product of my society than I could ever have imagined myself being. I couldn't have imagined it because I never thought I valued the things yuppies value. But I do. And I do not think it is evil. I think it is cultural. And a result of trying really hard to use what's been given to me for God’s glory. I don't even know what I am trying to say with all of this other than I just am at this totally bizarre place in life in which I both know where I want to go and believe I have the talents to do it (if I let go of certain other things that I've held on to), and I can completely recognize that I am not the person I thought I was. In other words, I feel like I am waking up to who I am and I am becoming more aware of my abilities. I guess what's really going on is that my vision is focusing. So much of the excess work, of the excess baggage, of the excess stress needs to fall away. I don't need to stay in this whirlpool. I know what I want - my husband, my children, to teach and write, and community ministry. The rest has to go. And that can be the value of finding myself where I am at 32 – the focus that I haven't been able to find until this point. (Image by Nicolette Tomas.)
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At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
May the Lord answer you in the day of trouble! May the name of the God of Jacob protect you! May he send you help from the sanctuary and give you support from Zion! May he remember all your offerings and regard with favor your burnt sacrifices! May he grant you your heart's desire and fulfill all your plans! May we shout for joy over your salvation, and in the name of our God set up our banners! May the Lord fulfill all your petitions! Now I know that the Lord saves his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with the saving might of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright. O Lord, save the king! May he answer us when we call. - Psalm 20 At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
I am ok. And I am going to be ok. I have a lot to work through, but I am going to be ok. I need to repent of how I'm dealing with Trey. He really is sick. He was crying this morning when he woke up because he feels so bad and is frightened. This has just been really sucky timing for him to be so sick while I'm going through all of the emotions of a pregnancy “scare.” I love him and I need to try to be there for him. After all, he has been trying so hard to do the same for me. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Today I sat on the couch and wept. I'm not even sure why I cried so much, but I guess I do know the long litany of problems that led to it. The past week has been pretty horrible. Trey has been sick and emotionally stressed and worried. Work is full of pressure as I find myself the go-between for coworkers struggling to communicate with each other. Ruthie and I are having dumb arguments over who knows what. But the real issue of the week has been my surprise not-pregnancy. By Saturday night I was pretty sure I was actually pregnant and thought I just needed to wait a little longer for the test to come out positive. I only sipped a little wine at dinner club and was so worried that people would figure it out. Ha. Little need for that. On Sunday I woke up and felt really nauseous. I had to sit through the panel I was on for Sunday School without throwing up – something that seemed pretty difficult not to do at certain moments. But, then after church my period started. I was so shocked. I quickly told Trey, and then went directly to missions prayer. I didn't think about it too hard. And I didn't think about it too hard on the drive home. Nor did I think about it too hard during Bible study with the Chinese students. After everyone left I thought about it a little bit, but I didn't want to think about it. So Trey and I ate prosciutto and drank beer and watched Inspector Morse. It felt OK, until I got ready for bed that night. I sat on the toilet and wept. Five days late. What a horrible amount of time. Was it a late period? Or was it an early miscarriage? Five days of growing excitement. Three false pregnancy tests. One morning of nausea. There is no way to know. Yesterday I woke up after a good night's sleep and felt like everything was totally ok. I had cried the night before, but it wasn't a big deal now. I got ready to go for a run and headed out the door. Usually running on the second day of my period isn't so bad. But I started to run and all I could feel was a strong, dull, silent pain on my right side. It wasn't cramps. It felt a little like a side stitch, except I wasn't out of breath and it felt more like something was tearing. I couldn't run and had to walk the whole way. But again, who knows? There's no real reason to go to the doctor. But just such a sad feeling. By mid afternoon today I felt distinctly depressed. It was hard to focus on work and everything felt heavy. My heart felt heavy, my body felt heavy, my eyes and brain felt heavy. Now of course Trey started to pay attention. As I sat on the couch with him, crying, I couldn't find the ability to express all of this. All I could say was just how sad I am. And how much I feel like I don't have any friends. After all, I find myself at almost thirty two years old and I wonder – do I have any friends? Sometimes I really don't know. I have enough community to find plenty of people to spend time with. But I don't have any friends who know me well enough, or talk to me frequently enough, to know when something is very wrong. I live in a world where if I were drowning I would have to yell for help, but we all know that drowning people don't yell. They die silently. And that is exactly the problem. Plenty of people want me to be involved with things. Plenty of people want to spend time with me. No one has made the effort to actually know me. No one knows where and how I struggle. I do not have friends here. When is the church going to realize that people are nomads? When is it going to realize that it cannot change the tides – people will be transient. We are caught up in tides that are larger than our life decisions. As such, the church needs to pastor like it would pastor wandering nomadic tribes. It needs to be aggressive in pursuing people. It cannot expect people to volunteer their hardships. The hardships of the laity must be sought out. And sometimes, all that would take is a simple question. "How has life been treating you?" I do not remember the last pastor who asked me this question. And so my nomadic life continues. (Image by Carolyn Hall Young, "Gratitude and Grief in Equal Measure.") At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Why is this so hard? A week ago I still wasn't sure if I really wanted children. Now I can't stop crying because my period started five days late. But I feel so sad. For no clear or explicable reason. I just feel a deep sadness – like something was abruptly lost that I wasn't really sure I even had, but wanted profoundly. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Still no period. I can't imagine I'm not pregnant. However, I have now taken three pregnancy tests and all have been negative. Three is extreme. And it's still pretty early. But I feel like I'm going crazy not knowing. Plus I realized this morning that I did the first two incorrectly and so I went to the CVS to buy another box. I was super careful on the third one, but no results. This is starting to become really difficult emotionally. And if it's this hard without that much riding on it, I can't imagine what it is like for our friends who are struggling with infertility. It must feel like you are going out of your mind. The problem is that if I think about it at all, I start to really want a baby. All of the warm fuzzy feelings that I've ever heard people talk about start to waft up through my body and I have to stamp them down pretty quickly. Because, I think it would be pretty hard to find out we're not pregnant. I would feel really, really sad. So for the last four days I keep wavering between these two emotions – excitement and joy when I think I probably am pregnant and disappointment and sadness when I think my period is going to start. And once again, it's just all so subjective at this point. These are all just feelings and can't really tell me anything about what's really going on. I never thought I would be happier to see a little blue line, but man, all of this waiting is making that blue line feel like the victor's crown at then end of a long, slow, uncertain week. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Well, it's now two days past my period due date and no period. I took a pregnancy test last night and it was negative, but it was probably too early. Lord have mercy. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts Well I haven't written anything here for quite a while. I feel like I went off of birth control and just haven't been able to write. Not in any dark or bad way, but writing somehow just hasn't occupied much of my thought life. The topic of pregnancy and motherhood has – just not writing. The impulse hasn't been there. But here I am, wondering if I'm pregnant. My period was supposed to start yesterday and as of 1pm today it still hasn't. I don't know. I don't think I'm pregnant, but it's not like it's a subjective matter. The funny thing is that every month I've been off the pill, I get to the point of starting my period and I think I'm pregnant. It's just this strong feeling I have, and what's even funnier is that it always makes me really happy. During the rest of the month, I still tend to think about the indefinite "later" as the best time to have a kid. After we've settled into our new work and school schedules, after we've gone to visit friends in New Orleans, after I go to Thailand for a work conference. "Later" is the looming word in my mind when it comes to having a family, but of course, "later" must some day run out. But in the moment, when I'm actually waiting for my period to start and think that it won't, I have so much peace and calmness, and all feels right with the world. It makes me happy. Seeing H. and meeting baby J. was really good for me. H. is pretty much recognizable as herself now that she is a mother. And she's not psycho about it all. She's just normal – or at least what I've always felt should be normal. She hasn't lost her brain and she is still really fun and interesting to talk to. J. is a part of her life, not the sole summary of her life. My mind can't stop thinking that maybe, right now, the process of creating life is already occurring. It sends bubbles all through me. I'm giving it until tonight and then I'm taking a pregnancy test. (Image by srasteria, "50-2.") At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
I think pregnancy is going to be horrible for me. Or at least, technically, I think that the postpartum period is going to be hell. I pretty much expect that I will deal with postpartum depression. This is my very unscientific evaluation, but being on the pill was great for me. It regulated my moods and everything seemed to just balance out. The ups and downs of my emotional life were significantly less exaggerated. Now that I'm coming off the pill, everything is hitting me again full force. It's like I had forgotten just how unruly my emotional life was and know I'm meeting a familiar face once again. It makes me think that pregnancy itself will be pretty great - I'll be on a high. But if the loss of hormones I'm going through now is any foretaste of the loss of hormones I'll go through then, well then look out world. Hannah's life is going to SUCK. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Coming off of the pill is fucking horrible. Needless to say, today was not good. It literally feels like every hormonal onslaught I've avoided for the last four years is crashing in upon me. I knew that being on the pill was regulating my hormones – it was apparent from the get go that I was one of the women whose hormones were regulated on the pill rather than sent whacko. But now it means everything is going ape shit on me. I haven’t felt this type of weepy apathy in years. It feels like everything inside of me was first ratcheted up to 1,000 and then abruptly turned off. First I was angry and stressed for most of the day. Literally everything went wrong with registration for my summer directed study course that could go wrong. Forms hadn't been turned in correctly, administrators didn't reply to emails with information, and other administrators would only tell me what I needed to know after I sent them multiple emails and left two voice messages. Then when it finally got figured out, I just turned into a big ball of tears and I've been crying for the last two hours. I forgot what it feels like to want to hide from yourself. That's the worst of it. That's the worst part of PMS – the almost maddening desire to get away from yourself, to escape from yourself. The feeling that somewhere, outside of yourself, you know that it's ok. But for now, you are your own worst prison. A ball of furry, shame, or sorrow, interchangeably surrounding your best held dreams and decimating them before your eyes. And what's worse – you know you will not stay your enemy. You know that once that release comes, all will be right. But nothing, nothing you do in the moment can bring that physical, animal sense of release. Only blood will do so. Just hold on to then and then the chemical balance will come, and you will know when it does come. Until then, only Jesus. |
About the ProjectThis is a very personal project. It tracks my growth and development as I journeyed toward motherhood over the recent years. It doesn't document every experience I had, and probably neglects my more joyful and peaceful moments in the frenzy of trying to communicate my fears, anxieties, and doubts. If you are a friend or loved one, please do not let anything you read here overshadow what you know of me personally. If you are a stranger, please remember that a living and flawed person stands behind these words. To all my guests here, please understand these are not political statements and try to extend me grace, even as I share my failures and foibles - I have repented of much of what I share. I don't share this journal as an exemplar, but rather out of the desire to share my hope that entrance to motherhood does not need to be a fearful thing - despite the very real fears I have fought against. Motherhood is simply a part of life and one through which I am discovering more of myself and my God. Archives
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