Disorder

I never begin writing without having a theme for my post. Even if I have a lot of different points I want to make, I try to find a common thread so I’m not just throwing out random thoughts that don’t connect. Right now, I just feel I need to write, but I don’t have a central idea. Perhaps my disorder will be my focus. Sometimes lately I feel neither here nor there. I have an OK job that’s pretty easy, but I think it’s time for something more challenging. My everyday life is pretty mundane, but I have some exciting events to look forward to. My grief still weighs me down, but I have adapted with a sort of comfortable numbness. I’m not the most carefree, happy person I was in years past, but I’m not stuck in the deepest part of the grief pit either. I still ache for a baby, but I’m not as preoccupied with it. I guess my progress report would say that I’m pretty good, with room for improvement. My job at an assisted living community has been a tremendous help for me. I have made countless friendships among the residents, and they care for me as if I am one of their own children or grandchildren. Socially, I get to see my friends a bit more often than before, and most still look out for me and make sure I’m doing alright. To backtrack a bit, I think I’m not as preoccupied with my childlessness because I’m so busy with other things. My unconventional job hours and hectic travel schedule lately keep me distracted. The desire is still there, but I don’t have time to lament things. The usual triggers are hard to avoid – having another birthday flash by, being around friends with their kids, seeing pregnancy announcements on Facebook (the latest being from one of Mike’s young nurses who just got married last year), etc. Plus, there are always the innocent questions that just hit you the wrong way. Two months ago, when I worked on Mother’s Day, one of the elderly residents was chatting with me and asked, “Are you a mother?” When I softly smiled and said that I wasn’t, she looked at me and said, “Ohhhh…. You don’t know what you’re missing.” Actually, I do, which is kinda the problem… Next spring I will turn 40. When I started this blog, I was in my early 30s, hating being childless but still in a comfortable biological place in my life. Now, I feel the noose tightening. I sometimes ask myself if I would really feel a terrible emptiness if motherhood doesn’t happen for me. I know the answer (yes), but realize I can’t obsess about things beyond my control. I am still trying to adjust to a life without Mike, let alone accept the possibility of a life without kids.