I hate when philosophers hit the nail on the head.
The damn founder of absurdism highlighted my absurd avoidance that has cost me a huge part of my life. And I have to be honest – I don’t know what I am going to do now, today I am still devastated, in shock and super sad.
Two point five years ago, I sat in the back of a taxi. A cold winter day, I was bundled to high heaven but stripped in the back of the taxi as I was covered in hives – a reaction from stress. Heading to NYU medical center, I peer out the dirty taxi window (wishing for Windex – OCD in full swing) but also distracting myself from the terrifying tests I must get done while also feeling brave that I’m making it to the doctors. Step one was making it there and I was doing that. I was choosing not to avoid. So, I thought – I am conquering my fear, right?
I phone my mother. She picks up with Tina Turner blaring in the background at 9AM which translates to, sh*t she’s drinking. And f*ck she has cirrhosis. I am now worried about her and distracted from me. I told her where I was going, launched off into my fear and was met with pure rage. This, my friends, was the perfect example of what I tell friends and clients not to do and I was doing it…
Mom (hardware store) does not do vulnerability.
I know this but in this moment I really wanted her to. She never had the ability to compassionately comfort my fears and what I was sharing terrified her. What does Mom do when terrified? Lash out, of course. And alcohol took control of her black portable phone with the Private Dancer album underscoring our fight.
I hang up, dejected, sobbing in the backseat watching Taxi TV with my dear friend on Talk Stoop wishing I had called Cat instead of Mom. I pay my taxi fair and head up for my testing.
And I never picked up those results. (That was almost 3 years ago.)
I was too scared to cope so I did a half ass job to protect myself.
And here I am, these years later, crying different tears in the back seat of the car.
My mom has now died from her alcoholism and I miss her terribly. Today, I bring with me someone to hear the tests. I learned from my mistakes. No more avoidance.
I choose now to do none of this alone and ask for support from friends who had the time and were capable of just loving me. I look to my right at my friend Lisa in the back seat, expressing deep regret of not getting the results 2.5 years ago; she watches me cry tears for my mother, she, too, has lost her mom. She really gets it.
I know who to go to now – no more hardware store for milk for me. And we receive the results together from the doctor directly only to find out…
I waited too long to have a baby. I cannot have a child.
The doctor goes as far as refunding some of my money as my test results were so bad there was no point at doing an ultrasound. He tells me this as my tears flow all over his big, brown Raymour & Flanigan looking desk. The doctor begins to escort me out of his office. He had no capacity to care for my breakdown and gestures to Stephanie – his secretary – who will “take it from here.”
My dear friend (who after trying in vitro for 3 years ended up adopting two boys) tells the doctor just how inconsiderate he’s being. I loved her for saying what I couldn’t. She took her shark backpack and me as far away from NYU, called her assistant, cleared a portion of her work day, and was with me while I grieved this news.
Lisa knows me well enough to not strategize “next steps yet” cause I would drop kick her if she did. Always cherish the friends who know you!
Knowing who to go to for support is key to being supported.
- waiting to find a partner…
- fear of taking real, concrete steps to learn about my fertility…
- avoidance to cope…
Cost me the chance to have a baby with my eggs; my genes that would have parts of my mother in her/him.
So what next?
I don’t know yet. All I can say is when fear is in the driver’s seat and you procrastinate to cope, time goes by and your “safety” comes with a cost. And yes, I know anyone who wants to be a mother will have a child but the first way I always dreamed of was taken from me.
So now I deal – in doses – with this news. If I choose, my path to motherhood will look very very different and I would be lying to you if I said I didn’t have deep despair around that right now. But I do know if I don’t move action forward in doses I will never hold the love of my life in my arms.
So yes, Albert Camus, “There is no love of life without despair of life.” If I have a child it will not have come without great despair and that is some real life right there.
I can only teach what I need to learn most. #DiStyle
Take a minute to think about what you’ve been avoiding. What is it costing you? How is it really serving you? And how can you take a small step towards what you desire most? Email me or leave a comment below. It’s all about sharing so you can begin to take action.