Thursday, January 11, 2018


At 4:30 am EST, Grey and I loaded two very sleepy children into the car and made our way to the airport. The plan to use Uber fell through when we learned of an hour wait and after some crazy airport shuttle experiences we decided not to gamble with contact other services.

It's been over 2 1/2 years since the Beats and I have been to Logan Airport, but so many memories from that first night came back as we made our way to the terminal to drop Grey off. Both kids alert to all the lights, sounds and movement.

It's hard straddling the worlds between hope and frustration. Yesterday's fight to restore heat to our rental was draining on all of us, so the prospect of returning to that airport with one-way tickets is very appealing. Yet the future is still uncertain and there's potential that none of this will pan out.

Curling up with the Beats on the couch this morning following dropping off Grey, I could feel the unpacking of all the emotions begin. The strain of limbo starting to release as we all are finding our way to move beyond the uncertainty. Whether it be in a damned slower morning consisting of pancakes and a promise of trip to the library for some additional playtime or me forcing myself to complete the assembly of Kindergarten registration packets or putting together a reward system for forcing myself to apply for jobs, both here as well as on the West Coast. Movement forward is the key.

And that can only come with allowing for the unpacking of the emotional side of this process. Allowing for the hope while also acknowledging the fear.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Heat drama, round 4

This morning I awoke to a cold house and realization that we, once again, didn't have any heat. The furnace seems to be trying to work, but (true to fashion) our landlord didn't bother to inspect the rest of the system.

The resulting text from her was one where she hinted that this was our fault, at which point I curtly responded telling her it was going to be fixed today.

I'm so angry at the moment. We get blamed for her being a crappy landlord and knowing that the threat of a lawsuit and having the building condemned by the Health Department is the only thing motivating her to do the right thing. All this while she cries about having inherited 3 separate properties following the sudden death of her mother.

I'm learning the art of putting on a sad face, saying "oh that's awful" and then interrupting with legal issues and reminding them they have an out ("have you considered selling?" is my new phrase). Of not allowing people to snowball me over their bullshit. Because life is full of trauma and unfair events, but I'm tired of shouldering other people's crap.

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

When family fails

The day of my grandfather's funeral is one I've been replaying in my mind the past few days. A cold, snowy Minnesota day in the middle of March 2011 that brought all my mom's family together in a church to remember the old man. I had expected to be the center of the gossip given my recent confession to my parents that I had been diagnosed with infertility combined with my sister's pregnancy announcement. Instead, it was the arrival of my estranged aunt, the eldest of my mom's siblings who had been out of the picture for over 20 years, that stole the show.

The moment I've been replaying is after the funeral at my grandparent's house, where all the siblings were sitting at the table. My estranged aunt center-stage, clearly pissed off with everyone around her, my mom's younger sister fawning over the estranged aunt trying to win her approval. My mom and her youngest brother glaring hatefully at my estranged aunt, firing off bitter jabs and retorts. My mom's other brother sitting quietly at the table, visibly spooked by all that was happening. And my grandmother acting clueless to all the hostility. 

It would be later that night, after my estranged aunt had been driven to the airport, that my mom and her brother would replay it all for my grandmother, wondering aloud why my estranged aunt was behaving the way she was and getting increasingly angry over how she had negative interactions with everyone in the house. Everyone except for me.

And it would be moments later that I would silence them all when I answered simply, "She's hurting. Didn't you see the pain?"

The comments from my post last week has had me thinking more about this event and the history I've had with family. This has been mixed in personal conversations, Katherine's post about family drama and on a post by MamaJo23 I've been ruminating over about bitterness. The final icing on the cake was reading about family dynamics in Perfect Little World by Kevin Wilson. All of it resulting in a jumbled as each part has brought strong emotions to the surface that make processing things extremely difficult (and advanced apologies for how all of this is coming together), but a theme has been slowly emerging as I've been unpacking all of this which is the power of family dynamics, particularly when those dynamics are less than healthy. Of not only what is considered okay and not okay behavior, but who it is okay to support.

Family is a tricky institution. We define it as a social unit where the connection is based on shared genetics and/or fulfillment of prescribed roles involving parent/child. In the best of circumstances the people involved like one another most of the time and have found a shared bond. But what is often silenced is when the there really isn't a connection or when dynamics have been put into play that leaves some ostracized from the group. 

For as long as I can remember, I've been considered the black sheep of my family. From a young age, my mom was quick to point out how much I reminded her of my estranged aunt from everything from my mannerisms to attractions and even career aspirations. Warnings of becoming like her set the stage for a deep-seated fear of never truly being able to do anything right and being terrified of failing in their eyes and the degree this has impacted me is something I'm still discovering daily. But the most shocking discovery was finding that these warnings of being disowned were not universally held for others in my family; that the shame and admonishment I was warned I would face never fell on my sister or my cousins, instead me being pushed to offer unquestioning support and love during situations I knew would have resulted in me being banished from the family.

It was during a session with David that I learned about that dysfunctional family dynamics are generational, radiating out past the members that were still alive and involving deep hurts that were deeply rooted. That my existence as a black sheep was actually not due to who I was but is instead a symptom of something much bigger than me.

The situation with Moon and me is somewhat similar to this, with there being trauma and loss on her end that has required certain actions and outlooks in order for her to survive. That though all of it has seemed unnecessarily cruel and painful for me, in her eyes doing the opposite would have brought her pain.

To date, my mom's family still is estranged from my aunt with all of them becoming borderline violent when questioned about why they won't engage her and forgive. Granted my estranged aunt has her demons, but getting to the root of the issue that both my grandparents had a role in this pain is something none of them have been willing to address.

And it's this root of family failure that has me the most sad. That it doesn't have to be this way, but habits, insecurities and deep fear dictate for it to be.


Today is interview #1 for Grey at a local company. Tomorrow is about him packing and reorganizing his presentation, preparing for interview #2 on Friday.

In the middle of all of this has been me preparing for the beginning of the semester, figuring out appointments and planning and trying to will myself to apply for jobs when I have zero clue what lies ahead (or where we will be located). All while avoiding questions about what my future plans on.

Because of this, I've been finding myself pulling away from others. On Saturday we missed a neighborhood party, our second one, opting instead to have a family movie night. All with me finding it hard to express why we are doing this; revealing to others all the turmoil that is in my head seems too risky.

The problem is, I know Grey and I need support right now. With so much uncertainty, having some form of support and encouragement would ease some of the stress. But I'm also use to people becoming very uncomfortable when we share all that is happening. The well-meaning warnings of our plans brings it's own anxiety and I'm unwilling to fight with others over the decisions we feel need to be made.

Still, I need to figure out a way to thaw; to let others in if for no other reason than to let them know we do care, but life is filled with uncertainty at the moment. That they don't need to fix anything or somehow offer a light at the end of the tunnel. Because right now the loneliness of navigating this road is an added weight. Something I wish i could relieve.

Monday, January 8, 2018

#MicroblogMondays: Post Bombogenesis

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

We survived the "Bomb Cyclone" that hit Boston, with the only signs of injury being sore muscles from shoveling. 

Four disorienting days later, this city is starting to get back to normal. Grey's interview was postponed to this week, making for him having back-to-back in person interviews. Add in a seeming sleepiness from everyone around me, and it's clearly going to be interesting.

More thoughts soon. But for now, I have sledding hills in my yard. 

Tuesday, January 2, 2018


The conversation started innocently enough. Grey was preparing dinner and I was sneaking a moment away from the Beats as they were playing. As he was cutting vegetables, he was imagining a positive outcome to his interview on Friday. Of getting an offer and being able to move back to the West Coast. As Grey vocalized his daydream, he had a moment where he started talking about the benefit of being close to family. That we would be only an hour away from his brother Lucas and his family and wouldn't it be so nice to be able to have the Beats meet their cousins?

Then, pausing briefly, he ventured into territory I know has been on his mind.

"You know, I think you and Moon would get along. You both have a lot in common. . . ."

Daring to look up at me, Grey immediately got his answer to his probing with the look on my face. Which then devolved in a 5 minute fight before we both decided it wasn't worth fighting about and me leaving the room.

The comment has stayed with me, though. Mainly because over the past 5 years, I know this one thought has been on Grey's and his family's brain.

Brief backstory for everyone who doesn't know the history: Grey's younger brother Lucas (who's my age) and his wife Moon (who's a year older than Grey) started dating around the same time Grey and I did. Grey and Lucas have always been close, so there's always been a weird vibe with hitting milestones. Grey and I were married almost a year after we first met (yes, I know. We're one of those) while Lucas and Moon went through an extended courtship involving a break-up and relocation. In 2008, they decided to marry, which was met with joy. And then we learned that Moon was pregnant, having gone off birth control without telling Lucas. Cue shock. Cue more shock when it was announced they were having twins. And cue me realizing my biological clock was ticking.

It was during our visit to them in 2009 to help out with their newborn twins that Grey and I came to the agreement it was time to try to expand our family. Honestly, that trip was a bonding one for all four of us as Grey and I spent 10 days pulling them out of a complete shitstorm that was not being ready for twin parenting. I remember leaving for the airport that last day and wondering if there was a way we could somehow all live together, supporting one another as I assumed pregnancy would be just around the corner.

Over the next 2 years, that would be destroyed. As we closed out 2010 without a single BFP, I found myself being resentful when Grey's family announced travel plans that excluded us so they could see the grandkids. As we began treatments, the focus was on Lucas, Moon and how much they were struggling to parent twins. As much as I reasoned it wasn't their fault, it was hard to feel so alone during our journey.

Then Lucas and Moon dropped a bomb and announced they were expecting a month after my second miscarriage. The baby having a due date similar to the one for babies I lost. And that is when the wall went up. Despite attempts to break that wall, it's remained firmly in place.

I know what you're thinking: why not forgive? Why not move on? This is where things get weird because I've spent countless hours on that end. There's been that rationalizing, involving recognizing that Lucas and Moon's actions were not meant to harm Grey and me. There's been me looking inward, trying to determine why I feel anger over the situation, addressing jealousy, fear, abandonment and loss. I've gone back and forth and back again.

The only thing I can tell you is that the root of this dislike involves feeling completely abandoned and unacknowledged during what has been one of the most trying periods of my life. And that I expected better.

At the same time Moon and Lucas announced their pregnancy, close friends also announced they were expecting. The difference for the outcome from their announcement was that when these friends learned about our loss, they sent flowers; a small bouquet with a sympathy card. That gesture and acknowledgement made it possible to move beyond the initial hurt and be supportive of them as they entered parenthood. The flip example is with my mom, who told me that I needed to get over myself when I told her I was infertile because "she was going to be a grandmother." I'm resigned with my mom, with her words and actions being final nail in the coffin for any close relationship.

The situation with Moon and Lucas lies in between. With the added wrinkle being that Moon and I are very different individuals. Moon is someone who has embraced the identity of "Mom," posting about life fulfillment due to pregnancy and being able to give birth. Whereas I am an infertile who is parenting. Though I adore the Beats, I don't identify with being a mom. There were no bump photos or maternity shoots. I don't see my body as somehow graced due to coming out the other side of pregnancy with two living children.

Most importantly, having children hasn't been this healing force. The healing that has come has been due to a lot of self-reflection, analysis and change that I've fought to bring about. Putting that responsibility on the Beats is unfair in my eyes as their role in this world is their own. As illustrated in Kahlil Gibran's poem "On Children," it's not their role to complete me and heal old wounds. All of this is made more complicated over the bafflement that exists from Grey's family that pregnancy didn't cure all the pain and grief from infertility.

The thing is, I don't want to continue the cold war. Especially if all Grey and I are hoping for with this job interview comes through. I've watched my mom's family devolve due to grudges and not addressing deep hurts to the point of utter ridiculousness. I also have memories of those previous periods where I wasn't seen as the bat-shit crazy in-law. In addition, having it out could be good and could be very healing. But I also don't see the road towards that door nor that there's a point to such an option in anyone's eyes. Me getting over myself and apologizing for all my craziness is what has been pressed for, which fits nicely with the ongoing theme of feeling unacknowledged and abandoned.

So for now, I'm in limbo having agreed to not actively fight and to be civil. Wishing that old wounds were washed clean instead of allowed to fester.

Saturday, December 30, 2017


We know 
so perfectly 
how to give birth
to the monsters
inside us,
but for reasons 
I will never figure out
we have not the slightest clue
of what to do 
with all the 

~Christopher Poindexter

Grey has an interview a week from today. A select few have been told (and there are more that need to be told), but we're already preparing for his trip and talk. 

Already the nightmares have started for both of us. The fear created from daring to hope.

Herein lies the problem. The fact we are both so afraid of failure and being trapped in limbo that it is manifesting in negative ways. Both of us have had shorter tempers the past few days, quick to snap at one another and anyone who dares challenge our guarded moods. We both know it needs to stop.

My horoscope this week was the final sign, particularly this part: 

"You don’t have to be fearless or have an ironclad plan; all you have to be is brave. Things don’t have to go your way in order for them to be going exactly as they’re meant to go."

As tempting as it is to steel myself, trying to protect my family from any potential pain, I know it's time to shed the armor and believe that good things are coming.

Hence my resolution for 2018: to be brave. To acknowledge the fear, the hurt and the pain, but to stop walling myself off from the world. To remove the fearless mask I've been wearing for awhile now and put my trust that there is a path forward as we embrace this amazing mess of a world we live in. Attempting to perfect the art of wrapping monsters in love.
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