So it's Halloween. A few weeks ago, the facilitator of my infertility support group asked if we have trouble with this day, and most of us said that we don't. I don't remember this being a particularly hard day in the past - certainly not up there with Mother's Day - but it turns out that I should know better than to make assumptions with the emotions of infertility. I'm finding today hard.
Halloween is not a big thing for me. I enjoyed it as a child, and somewhat as a college student, but frankly I'm not hugely into costumes and have never had the desire to dress up as an adult, so I've predominantly ignored it in years past. I hand out candy, but I don't watch spooky movies or decorate beyond a simple pumpkin. It's not my thing.
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Halloween in uni. Oh my. |
This year, I suddenly find today difficult. My Facebook feed is full of children and families in costume. Everyone seems to be enjoying today. Everyone but me. Since we've made the decision to step back from treatment, it feels like I'm mourning all the things that will never be. I won't dress my adorable cherubs in fun costumes. I won't ever be the one going door to door. It feels like just one more aspect of life that I'm shut out of. Between Christmas, Family Day, Mother's Day, and Halloween, it feels like every few months there's another observance to remind me that I'm on the outside looking in, while others mark the passage of time. I feel a little like Scrooge peering in on his nephew's Christmas dinner in
A Christmas Carol. Observing, but not observed. Such is the life of an infertile woman.
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