"There is no more lovely, friendly and charming relationship, communion or company than a good marriage."
--Martin Luther

Wednesday, 11 January 2017

My Dirty Little Secret

I have a dirty little secret: My house is a mess. Not like "Oh glory me, I haven't dusted the baseboards in days!" kind of mess, but a real mess. I mean, you've probably seen dirtier. It's not like an ecological disaster zone quite yet, but it's pretty darn filthy.

In addition to the dirt, my house is cluttered. Part of this is not my fault; my husband has a bunch of bins of old stuff that he has no time to go through, including reams of paper, and he tends to leave his clothes in a heap but wants to do his own laundry. Part of the clutter is due to the fact that I was in graduate school and working for a while, and the paper just piled up. I can make a bunch of excuses for it, but there is just clutter all over.

Part of the problem is that I kind of, sort of, maybe hate my house. I'm thankful for it, of course. Shelter is good, and we're fortunate to have a house in a crazy market. However, I hate my house because it's a constant reminder of what should have been. It was to be our forever home, with three bedrooms, so we could fill them with kiddos. Instead, I fill those rooms with stuff so that I don't have to think about the what ifs. 

The worst part about my nasty house is that it shames me. Or rather, it adds to the shame that I already feel, and that becomes a cycle. My mind tells me all the time that I'm a failure. I'm a terrible wife and a terrible woman. I can't have a baby and I'm not a great cook, so what kind of wife am I? The logical part of my brain says that it isn't true, that my husband loves me for who I am and doesn't think less of me for my struggles, but it's hard to believe that. That same logical brain tells me to cut myself slack, that I've been dealing with depression and acing school and volunteering as well as working, and it's okay to focus on surviving some days. Then I look at my messy house and the words just ring through my head: "Failure. Failure. Failure." And instead of cleaning and decluttering, my instinct is to hide under the blankets and cry, because I can't face the reality that once I clear it all out, I'll have to come to grips with the emptiness of those empty rooms that will never belong to a child.

On January 1, I woke up as a woman on a mission. I wanted to clean out this house from top to bottom. I wanted to sweep out all the things that had built up and that were overwhelming me, to stop being embarrassed to have someone drop in. Maybe it was getting past the difficult holiday season or hitting roughly six months since our last set of infertility treatments failed, but suddenly I needed change. Since that day, I've been taking it one day at a time. I bought a filing cabinet to attempt to fix the paper problem. I went through boxes of old paper and tossed most of the sheets that I no longer need for school. I scrubbed floors and I dusted. It's a long-term project, and I may never have that pristine house from the magazine, but I'm getting a little bit proud of my progress. Maybe one day I will graduate to being a real adult with a proper home.

Why am I sharing this story? It's embarrassing, right? I don't want people to know how messy I am. I guess I'm sharing it because maybe there are other people who are stuck in shame and loss and grief and need to know that they aren't the only ones who haven't scrubbed the kitchen floor in a long time. I needed you all to know that this grief I'm in is real and painful and nasty and all-encompassing, but I'm ready to be very real about it and not live in shame. I also want to advocate for us hurting people. It's easy to watch an episode of Hoarders and feel sorry for those poor people in their mess. It's not as easy to walk across the street and hug the hurting person who is in front of you. People like me are everywhere. We are in your Bible studies and in your book groups and at your workplace. We are embarrassed and ashamed of the mess inside our homes and inside our minds. I've had people - even my own mother - chastize me for the messy state of my house, and it didn't help. Instead it just told me, "Keep hiding." What I needed was love. I needed to be told that despite the mess, I was worth loving. So readers, if you aren't in the mess right now, keep your eyes open, because it might be your turn to tell someone that they are enough.

Tuesday, 10 January 2017

Top Ten Tuesday: 2016 Releases I Didn't Get Around To Reading in 2016

Hello dear readers! Welcome to 2017! I haven't been posting too much lately. I've been deep in thought and trying to move forward in a variety of areas, so watch this space for some life updates; HOWEVER, it's time for another Top Ten Tuesday, and today we're talking about 2016 release that we didn't manage to read in 2016, so here are some that are still on my list.

1. Homegoing by Yaa Gyosi: I got this in the TBTB Secret Santa exchange from the amazing Katelynn over at Books and Bottles, so I'm stoked to read this very soon!

2. Up To This Pointe by Jennifer Longo: I have a lifelong fascination with ballet, even though I was rubbish as a dancer, so this really appeals to me.

3. When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi: I feel like this book was everywhere in 2016, and yet I still managed not to read it. Soon!

4. Here I Am by Jonathan Safran Foer: I still have to read a few of his books, actually, but I'll get around to them at some point.

5. Truly Madly Guilty by Liane Moriarty: Sounds very intriguing!

6. Victoria by Daisy Goodwin: Historical fiction? Check. British royalty? Check. I'm in!

7. The Summer Before the War by Helen Simonson: Okay, maybe I'm just obsessed with historical fiction...

8. I'm Judging You: The Do-Better Manual by Luvvie Ajayi: I didn't actually hear about this book until last week, so it's hard to say that I "didn't get around to it"; I've been trying to read more about race relations and open my eyes by reading more by people of colour, and this book was recommended. I'm really looking forward to starting it.

9. Swing Time by Zadie Smith: I've read a few of her books and found them interesting, so I'll be excited when my hold for this book comes in within the next few weeks.

10. Avalanche by Julia Leigh: I haven't done IVF, but infertility has been such a central part of my life over the past few years, so I'm looking forward to diving into Leigh's memoir.

Thursday, 29 December 2016

2016: A New Hope or The Darkness Strikes Back?

This year. I can't sum it up in words, more like guttural utterances and tears, with a few profanities strewn in. On top of our personal crises, which included the death of my beloved Sadie and several rounds of failed fertility treatments, we had a number of celebrity deaths, Brexit, the Trump campaign, hurricanes, terrorist attacks, the growing crisis in Syria, and probably a lot more than I'm forgetting. The world feels darker now. My anxiety has been ramped up considerably. My coping has been shaky at best. Despite a couple of high points such as my graduation (which was somewhat marred by my cat's death the day before) his year will go down as a bad one in my life.

On Friday, I went to do something I had really been looking forward to: a friend date to see the film Rogue One. You see, I have been a Star Wars junkie since I was quite small. I grew up enjoying the exploits of Han, Leia, and Luke. Just before meeting my friend, I learned that Carrie Fisher had suffered a heart attack, and on Tuesday her death was announced, followed by her mother's death the following day. I grieve. I was then reminded of this post from one year ago today, when I was feeling low about the year that was, and found a sliver of hope in watching Star Wars, Episode 4: A New Hope. I wrote these words, which feel ridiculously optimistic after the year that we just experienced: "So maybe it's there, somewhere, that hope. Maybe I can find it and grasp it, if even for a little while."

Looking back on 2016, it feels less like A New Hope than The Empire Strikes Back. It feels like this year was spent fighting the darkness within and without. I did a year-long study of Revelation and then an autumn study on spiritual warfare, yet I feel more helpless than ever against the darkness. I feel like I'm losing and being closed in on all sides. I have prayed and sought and prayed and sought some more, but it's hard to find God in the darkness. As we close off the year, it feels like the Emperor is in charge, Darth Vader has the upper hand, and Han Solo is frozen in carbonite. All I can do is hold on to a tiny hope that this isn't the end and that this darkness will not define the rest of my life.

However, in a dark time such as this one, I am reminded that Carrie Fisher, too, struggled with dark demons, that many people consider her a powerful spokesperson for those dealing with mental illness. So in honour of Carrie, I will raise a glass to toast the end of the year that was, and go forward hoping and praying that this year will be the one when the tide turns, when the darkness ebbs, and when I find hope again. Perhaps 2017 will be the year when I learn how to fight like Princess Leia. May it be so, and may the Force be with you.

Tuesday, 27 December 2016

Top Ten Tuesday: Best Books I Read In 2016

2016 is heading toward it's end. I can't say I'll miss this year; I'm consigning it to the dust heap of history for a multitude of reasons, but one of the few bright lights was that I read a lot of great books. Today for Top Ten Tuesday, we're listing our favourite books read in the past year.

1. The Tsar of Love and Techno by Anthony Marra: This was hands down my favourite book of the year. 

2. The Diviners by Libba Bray: A paranormal and super creepy story set in 1920s New York. I was gripped from the get-go and I can't wait for the third installment.

3. The Passion by Jeanette Winterson: A beautiful and strange story set in Venice and during the Napoleonic invasion of Russia. I liked it so much that I sent it as part of my Secret Santa gift to Melissa over at Writer Grrl Reads. Except that they had changed the cover from what I was used to and the new one has a topless woman on it, so I spent 20 minutes agonizing in the store about whether I'd be creeping out a stranger by sending her a book with nudity on the cover. I sent it anyway, and we both had a laugh over it.

4. The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon: Gripping and beautifully written novel set in post-War Barcelona. I loved reading it while I was visiting that city.

5. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton: I plowed through this in a couple of hours while killing time at the library. So. Many. Emotions.

6. The Gift of Rain by Tan Twan Eng: A complex and layered novel set in wartime Penang. 

7. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy: I put off reading this book for so many years, but I ended up find it to be a real page turner. Sure, there are parts that I skimmed (mostly battle scenes), but I felt really involved with the diverse cast of characters. I'm so glad that I finally read it!

8. Commonwealth by Ann Patchett: I don't know what to call this book exactly. It's in some ways a series of stories about the aftermath of an affair that leads to the break-up of a marriage. 

9. The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah: I just love World War II novels, and this one did not disappoint.

10. Between The World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates: A series of letters that the author wrote to his son about his life and what it means to be African American. I listened to the audiobook of this book in the car and found it so compelling that I was sorry I didn't have a print copy so I could underline everything.

Honourable mention:
Persuasion by Jane Austen: It was my third time reading this book, so I didn't want to count it amongst the books I'd read for the first time, but I find that I appreciate this book more as I get older. It is probably my favourite Austen, and that's saying something because my love for Pride and Prejudice runs deep.

Wednesday, 21 December 2016

On the Term "Childless"

I've been thinking a lot about words lately. As a writer, words are important to me. There is a reason why we choose one synonym and not the other, why we say that something is 'gargantuan' instead of just 'big', for example. I myself have been known to prefer the term 'barren' because the former conveys the bleakness of my lost hopes in a way that the medical 'infertile' does not. Lately, as we ponder the life ahead of us, I'm wondering about 'childless' versus 'childfree'.

This is a polarizing topic. Those who choose not to have children often define themselves boldly as 'childfree', showing that they feel unencumbered by the societal pressure to have a family. It's something I admire, but I do not relate to. I do not feel like I belong among the 'childfree', those who are pleased to choose a life where they can go across the country on a moment's notice, trek the Andes, or just go for drinks after work without ever worrying about who will do the daycare pick-up. Moreover, my inability to conceive feels less like freedom and more like a millstone around my neck, dragging me to the depths, a perpetual burden. I do not think that I will ever view my lack of children as anything other than a lifelong grief.

On the other hand, there is the term 'childless'. Some people, particularly mothers, prefer this term because 'childfree' denotes a sense that to have children is burdensome. I sympathize, because I do experience my situation as marked by loss; however, I do not like those who have children deciding on the term that I - who cannot conceive - should use to define myself. More importantly, I do not wish to constantly define myself as 'less than'.

Those of us who have been in this position, pushing into the 30s with nary a stroller or a bassinet or a baby bump, have perhaps experienced the sense that at some point, their lack of children made them somehow 'less' than others. With phrases exalting a "mother's love" and a "mother's heart", and declaring that "moms are special people", we who are not mothers are defined as less loving, less compassionate. Our time is always less important; it is we the childless who should work late in the office and cover all the holidays. I hear this constantly as my husband consistently works almost every holiday in the year so that the parents in his practice can 'be with their families', as though I am not my husband's family, and as though Gil does not deserve to attend church on Easter like the rest of the doctors can. As though my punishment for being barren is that I should spend the next 20 years of Christmases alone while my husband works at the hospital, so that the deserving fertile people get to be with their families. We are told that our opinions and experiences are less meaningful when people throw around phrases like, "Well, you'll feel different about that when you have children." In churches, we are often an afterthought, the ones asked to teach Sunday school or hand out programs at the multitude of 'family-friendly' events; we are part of the body of Christ, but we're one of those less vital organs, like the appendix or the spleen. The moms - special as they are - get to be the heart and the lungs.

So when I am told that I ought to use the phrase 'childless' to appease some mothers, I wonder why? Why should I walk around defining myself constantly as lacking, as less than, as having a piece missing?  But maybe, in fact, we don't need a term for us as all, because we don't really exist. We are like the wallpaper that you might have noticed at first, but after a while you've forgotten whether it has flowers or polka dots. I don't need a word for my lack of children because my deep grief barely exists, it is invisible to most - even those have been told about it repeatedly - and in a sense, it's as though I don't really exist either.

Tuesday, 20 December 2016

Top Ten Tuesday: Ten Books I Wouldn't Mind Santa Bringing Me

Today's TTT topic is books that we wouldn't mind getting for Christmas. Here goes!

1. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: Illustrated Edition by J.K. Rowling: Squeeee! Just take my money.

2. Samarkand: Recipes and Stories from Central Asia and the Caucasus by Caroline Eden and Eleanor Ford: I probably would never actually cook any of the recipes, but I'm sure the pictures are nice. ;)

3. Mamushka: Recipes from Ukraine and Beyond by Olia Hercules: Another recipe book that looks lovely.

4. History: From the Dawn of Civilization to the Present by Adam Hart-Davis: This is totally up my alley.

5. Swing Time by Zadie Smith: I've read a few of her books and this looks very interesting.

6. Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow: Because I have a thing for collecting historical biographies.

7. Vengeance Road by Erin Bowman: I've meant to read this for a while now, but never got around to it. The cover is so nice! I wouldn't mind owning it.

8. Silk Roads: A New History of the World by Peter Frankopan: I will probably get this from the library, but I love owning heavy historical books, so it would make me happy to find it under my tree.

9. The Reason You Walk by Wab Kinew: I've been reading a lot about First Nations issues recently, and this autobiography seems like it would be interesting and important.

10. When Breath Become Air by Paul Kalanithi: I've heard so many rave reviews of this book, and it seems like one I might want to read more than once.

Tuesday, 13 December 2016

Top Ten Tuesday: Ten Books I'm Looking Forward To In 2017

Another Tuesday, another link-up. This week's topic deals with books we're looking forward to in the first half of 2017. I'm not sure if that is specifically looking at new books or just books we're looking forward to reading, so I'll do a little bit of both.

Books anticipated in early 2017:
1. Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han: I just love this series so much. The characters are adorable.

2. Warcross by Marie Lu: To be honest, I just found this book as I was looking up books coming out in 2017, but it sounds like a fascinating concept!

3. The Upside of Unrequited by Becky Albertalli: I need this!

4. Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman: I am new(ish) on the Gaiman train, but this looks fantastic.

5. The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden: Woohoo, more Russian themes!

Books I plan to read in 2017 that have already been released:
6. One Night in Winter by Simon Montefiore: This has been on my list for a while and oh, hey, it's another Russian theme.

7. The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende: While have long intended to read some Allende, I recently read a book about travels in South America, and the section on Chile made me bunk this modern classic up my list.

8. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt: I might as well jump on the bandwagon!

9. Avalanche by Julia Leigh: I've heard this is a gritty, real take on a failed IVF experience, and I'm really interested to read it.

10. Living the Life Unexpected: 12 Weeks To Your Plan B For A Meaningful And Fulfilling Future Without Children by Jody Day: Sounds cheerful, eh? I'm really trying to wrap my head around the hand we've been dealt. I'm not okay with it, and I'm not sure I ever will be, but I'm trying to find a sliver of a silver lining, and hopefully this book will help.