Once again, I am brought back to blogging with inspiration from another blogger.
Once again, that blogger is Lindsay from Tiny Bits of Hope.
First, I want to say that I have many blog posts spinning around in my head, and I’ve been trying to make a mental note of what they are, in order to write them later. Also, the same applies to my blog comments I’ve received. I’ve been an awful blogger and haven’t responded to them in a more timely fashion, for no other reason than after I write a post, I want to walk away and avoid the computer for a good week. I love to blog, but I don’t like the feelings it brings up – so I need to do it, but it hurts. Damned either way. Regardless, I want to respond to your comments, so this weekend, I will.
“Being a teacher I probably get asked this question at least a few times a day this time of year: How many more days until school gets out, you must be so excited??”
“This group of students has been with me through all the tests, procedures, medications, and month after month of failed pregnancy tests. And each morning, it was them, that got me through everything. Yes, I have a supportive husband and we both have wonderful families, but it has been my students, and their undeniable need for me, the pure love they have for me, that has given me the strength to get through this year. There is nothing like walking into a classroom after you have missed a day of work and seeing the look of joy on your students faces when they realize you are back. I can’t help but see them leaving me in a few weeks as a representation of the time that has gone by and the things that I have gone through, and the fact that I am still not pregnant. It should have been this class that found out I was pregnant. It deserved to be this class, they are the ones I wanted to share the good news with. But it’s not, and there is no good news to share, and it is really hitting me hard.”
Sometimes I don’t know how to explain the rush of emotions I have been feeling on any given day, or how I am replacing my sadness over lack of a pregnancy with sadness over losing a great group of students in two weeks. I can sense what I am doing, and I also understand why I am doing it. Grieving over students leaving my safe haven of a classroom is manageable – it will go away soon, once summer is in full-swing. Grieving over troubles conceiving, or coming up on the year mark – those aren’t so manageable. So I put 150% of myself into my students, because dammit, I’ve got two weeks left to enjoy something that makes me feel normal. An empty summer is an indication of what I’m supposed to be, and what I’m not.
The part of Lindsay’s post I feel most strongly about is the line regarding the class that should’ve been celebrating my pregnancy. That is exactly how I feel! This would have been the best class to share that news with; as they are always so happy, up-beat, and supportive. Instead, my co-worker is pregnant, and her class is celebrating, along with kids in my class. It hurts, and I can’t deny it. At the same time, selfishness is not a good quality. I am trying..I’m working on it. I am happy for everyone out there who is pregnant – and a lot of you are – and I don’t mean to sound selfish. But it should’ve been me, and it should’ve been this year, with this class.
It’s not. And while I’m out of my Clomid funk, feeling much more like myself – summer is coming, and there is absolutely no reason to celebrate. What is there to look forward to, when 23 of the people that make me the happiest walk out of my classroom and don’t need me anymore?
And in a quick switch of glass-empty to glass-full – maybe the summer is a celebration. I’m celebrating starting injectables, and (hopefully) being one step closer to baby.
One day, when my children are older, I will tell them again and again and again how badly their parents wanted them, how hard it was to wait, and how grateful they are to have them in their lives.