Obviously, there are many, many stab-through-the-heart-and-pin-you-to-the-floor moments when you decide you've banged your forehead up against a phantom wall more than enough times and it's clear that you are going to resolve your journey childfree. Moments like packing up the nursery, having a friend get "the call" from the same agency you used right after you tell her you're done, having to tell people your news and answer questions over, and over, and over.
But, I'm finding that it's the little ones that can get you over time, as we make our way through this odd period where the decision has been made, the nursery has been fully transformed into my lovely office space (I feel like "office" is too sterile for my cozy corner of happiness so maybe I should call it my "study" instead, unless that sounds too foo-foo-y?), we've told the vast majority of the people who we come into contact with regularly, we've planned most of our glorious California honeymoon trip (what's that about wildfires? La la la, I can't hear you), and we are settling into our house in its new identity as a cozy haven for two people who love each other very much.
Things like:
- Discussing our decision in June while walking down a street that is QUITE LITERALLY A PARADE of parents and small children headed to our local elementary school for an "open house and ice cream social" held by the art & music departments. Oh hey, Universe, way to showcase everything we won't have in a march of "nyah, nyah" that went on for, no joke, 20 minutes.
- Having every single freaking Friday we go to our favorite Mexican restaurant feel like Daddy-Daughter day, with a cute father and little girl combo sitting at a table directly behind me so Bryce has to watch it the whole time we eat (and drink those blessed margaritas). The sour part of me likes to pretend it's a custody thing so it's not quite so sad for us (although sadder for them). It's heartbreaking to see Bryce try not to notice, but still the feelings show up on his face when he thinks I'm not looking.
- The other day when we went for a walk in a local plaza mall and there was a man outside one of the stores with a toddler grabbing onto his knees/shins and giggling hysterically, and re-realizing that's never going to be Bryce.
- When Bryce was asked by a new coworker why he got his sportscar in a compact SUV version instead of a two-door jazzier model (he is much better at not explaining than me and said, "I just like this one" instead of "Because I needed something I could put a carseat in the backseat and a stroller in the back, which I don't need anymore.")
- When someone well-meaning tells me that I'm not that old, that I'm the age she was when she had her second son, that anything is possible, and I have to explain (or choose to) that actually it's not possible as I'm missing vital parts of my reproductive system now and that is actually okay by me. (I really feel for friends who are in their 30s and in this similar boat, because you must hear this ALL THE TIME. I hope at some point people stop asking or talking about miracles, but they still do it for Jennifer Aniston so I guess that just goes on until you're clearly menopausal, or maybe Betty White?)
Sigh. Tinier stabs are passing the baby aisle in Target and realizing that I never got the chance to buy that elephant version of the Sophie teether thing, which is probably a good thing because it was EXPENSIVE, but for some reason seeing that gets me more than "Mommy's Little Patriot" seasonal onesies or whatever else is further down the aisle I refuse to torture myself with at this point.
We'll survive these little stabby moments. I'm just proud I'm no longer reduced to a hyperventilating, pulse-racing mess when they happen (anymore).
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Ooof, those are definitely stabby for sure. The parade of children in June - sometimes the universe is pure evil in its timing. Sending a hug.
ReplyDeleteYeah, it was less the postage of children and now the "look at all these happy family units, going to do happy family things that aren't for you anymore." It was almost hilarious, almost. Thanks for the hug!
DeleteStabby moments are hard. There's also also an extra level of sadness in seeing your spouse suffer. But its good not to be a hyperventilating, pulse racing mess (which sounds quite possibly like PTSD to me). Today this small victory, tomorrow another. I hope one day seeing small children isn't upsetting.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely, seeing Bryce suffer is awful, especially after all our decision making talks where he's been suffering but feel he had to be strong for me. It is lovely to have my anxiety more under control so I'm not feeling quite so panicky in those situations where the grief is overwhelming. And it's funny, it's not seeing small children in isolation, I love small children. It's seeing them in these situations that really makes me feel the absence of that future. Notably dads and daughters, which probably points to my own "child of divorce" issues I guess. Or I'm overthinking everything! đ
DeleteI remember going over to a bay one summer (maybe the summer we knew it was over, or perhaps the summer I was resolving my second ectopic?) and it was full of kids playing and swimming. We didn't stay long. Stabby moments is a good way to describe it.
ReplyDeleteI still don't walk down the baby aisle at the supermarket. I was especially pleased when a year or two ago our supermarket rearranged it so it became the pet and baby aisle (which actually made me laugh a bit), as our cats had died a few years earlier (we haven't replaced them as we like to travel), and it is now an aisle I never ever have to walk down!
With the Mexican restaurant, I was wondering if you could go a bit later on a Friday night, when child and father are unlikely to be there, or have the first margarita at the bar or something? Until the sting eases.
Hugs.
Oh, it's awful to see so many people, in my head at least so easily enjoying what came so hard and then, actually, didn't come. That's too funny about the pet-and-baby aisle... Here it's oddly baby-and-feminine care in the grocery, which is great because I don't need those since my surgery so I can avoid the whole business. Target is different though because it's a whole section including furniture and strollers and clothing and gear of all kinds. So I can avoid the aisle but not the end cap, as it's cruelly across from the books. Hmm. Good advice on Maria's, but it doesn't seem to matter when we go (they aren't always tinies, sometimes it's an 8 year old or so). They've been closed for summer holiday, so maybe it will reset things this Friday! It just seems like, REALLY? RIGHT BEHIND US, every time? Thanks for the hugs!
DeleteThis sounds incredibly painful. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteIt's not fun, but honestly getting better. It doesn't happen every day, and I'm not super sad every day, just some days now. Thank you for the hugs!
DeleteI'm glad to read from your comment that you are starting to find these stabby moments gradually less painful. That sounds so awkward that some people are telling you there is still a chance without having any knowledge of your situation! You probably will still get comments like these unfortunately until you are well into your 50s! I definitely pity Jennifer Anniston the constant speculation.
ReplyDeleteIt's a difficult transitional period that you're in. It's bloody hard to be in this situation when the world is cruelly chockablock with parents and kids in various formations, especially in summer. I'm sorry but I hate those "it could still happen for you!" comments: I know they're well-meaning, but they used to make me feel frenziedly insecure and shaken. Could I have done more? Did I make the right decision? I 100% avoid saying this kind of thing to people now. I do my fair share also of imagining what's going on in the lives of those father-daughter or single mother-son combos you see out and about. I'm more mean-spirited than you though in that it does give me some kind of satisfaction to think that all is not golden in family land.. sigh, I'm a bit brutalised I think.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad the stabby moments are getting less intense for you and I hope they fade to something very manageable soon x
*Sigh* I suspect that these stabby moments will get less stabby as time marches on, but it doesn't make them any easier right now. It is certainly good news that they no longer produce the anxiety attacks you were having! Sending hugs to get you through these moments...
ReplyDelete