Saturday, September 2, 2017

Up and Down

I loved Infertile Phoenix's latest post:
so I borrowed her title. Up and Down.... this is (at least) for me exactly how life after infertility looks like.

I survived another 1st of September, first day of school in my country. All the talks everywhere were about it.

When I was a kid I was always looking forward to the 1st of September. I liked the rituals like buying new books and notebooks, wrapping them, putting stickers with my name on. I loved glancing through the books, curious of all the things I would learn.

1st of September is now only a hurtful reminder what I will never be able to experience with my children.

It is cloudy cold and a bit rainy day. I never work on Saturdays, so I took my bike and did some errands. Nowadays almost everybody uses cars to go anywhere, even if it is only short distance away. I always cycle (and walk in winter). It takes longer, but it is good for my body and for my soul.

I went to the library and took one book for me and lots of books for my mom's cousin who has terminal cancer. She has always been one of my mom's closest friends. And her mom (my mom's aunt) was my favourite aunt of all. The kind of aunt you cycle when you are 12 for a cup of tea and cookies and for a chat (when everybody else in your world is too busy to take time for you).

My mom's cousin asked me two years ago if I could bring her some books from the library from time to time. I started bringing her books and she loves reading them. They mean a world to her. With books, she can travel anywhere she wants to go.

My annual membership to the library recently expired and as a gift she gave my mom money to pay for my membership. I really appreciated her kind gesture. 

It makes me think - who will be there for me, when I will need books when old or ill? 

I've decided not to worry about it. There will be a way for me to get the books. After all, also my mom's cousin couldn't know 25 years ago, who will be the person to help her with the books.

When cycling back home I felt good. It is a nice feeling, being able to help somebody.

On a way home a car passed by and stopped. It was a friend from my youth. Not a close one, but we did spend few beautiful summers together, walking in the mountains, there were lots of us. 

She was very happy to see me. I was actually glad too, to see her after 15 years. But it was ackward - she in the car with two little girls. Me alone on the bike. I knew it was coming, the question: "So, how are your kids? How old are they now?"
I replied that I don't have kids.
She was surprised - like - it was the first time ever that she heard of an adult woman without children. She said: "I don't know why I thought you have kids?"

I was tempted to answer - Because everybody has them. Well, everybody but me.

Being different is hard.

Living after infertility is not for sissies.


  1. Phoenix's post really resonated with me too.....and then Blogger ate my comment. Again. For whatever it's worth, this is a tough time of year for me too. I'm always interested in the changes from year to year, or not, and yes, this year my back to school sadness has returned.

    There is SO MUCH truth in your last two sentences!!!

  2. I think the title of this post should be, "Living after infertility is not for sissies." That's a brilliant sentence. And so true.

    Also, I love the wisdom of this comment. "After all, also my mom's cousin couldn't know 25 years ago, who will be the person to help her with the books." Exactly. No-one knows. Not us. But not parents either. I'm glad this lady has you.

    I'm also thinking that the old friend you met asked herself that question, because she realised she shouldn't have made that assumption. I hope so.

    Brava, Klara. And hugs, too.

  3. Just like Sarah and Mali I like the sentence "Living after infertility is not for sissies." I completely agree!

    And yes, being different is hard. I am so glad we have eachother thanks to the internet.

    Hugs <3!

  4. Being different IS hard! But I was thinking the other day, being up in the mountains and searching for new flowers each year--once in a while I find a rare one that is seldom seen,and no one can identify it. It takes my breath away. I think we are rare,and beautiful, like these unique flowers. (The mountains in southwest NM are in full bloom right now!)

  5. I just read Phoenix's post, thanks for the reference to it. Ugh - those phonecalls/letters/messages with 'that' particular news - it's most definitely not a life for sissies that we lead. I read your piece with a wry smile. I'm that woman alone on the bike, still cycling everywhere in my mid-40s and regarded a bit strangely at work. That was an awkward encounter you had. Yeah, being different is hard. It's not something that parents, wrapped up as they are in the stresses of childrearing, will ever appreciate or have even a tiny bit of patience/empathy for, so thank god we have each other on here.

  6. So cool Klara!! :) I'm glad and sad that my post resonated with you so much. Living after infertility is definitely not for sissies.

    When I think about being an old woman, I think about my nephew calling and including me in things. Hopefully. Or my niece. But if there is no one, there will still be Girl Scouts or some activity where kids need to volunteer and bring books to an old lady like me. :)

    I am sorry for your friend from your youth. I think it's sad when women don't know how to talk about anything other than their children and other people's children.

    Being different IS hard. Especially when I feel I am different in such an unacknowledged way in a world that is ingrained with the very thing I cannot be.

    But it is honestly because of your blog that I know it is okay to take care of myself. I enjoy all the little things- my time with my husband and my dog, a good meal, and the days where I can spend some time outside. Thank you <3

  7. dear girls, how lovely it is to open my blog and find so many lovely new comments. You made my day! Yes, I agree, we are so happy to have each other!