Wednesday, January 1, 2020

Decade in review

I must admit, I hadn't really considered that we were at the end of a decade until I started seeing all of these "decade in review" and "then and now" reflection posts popping up in my social media feeds (in addition to all the usual year-end posts). One big difference between the start of this decade and now the end of it, I suppose, is the creeping presence of social media itself (and smartphones -- the first iPhone was released in 2007). (Although we'd had cellphones for quite a while, dh & I didn't get smartphones until 2016.)  I had only just joined Facebook in late 2009 -- I don't think Instagram had even been invented yet! -- so nobody tended to think a lot about these kinds of things, at least not in the same kind of shareable way.  I had already been online for almost 15 years, and I WAS blogging by then. I am grateful that I have more than a full decade of blog posts to look back on.

One young guy of my acquaintance posted on Facebook about how in 2009 he & his wife were awaiting the birth of their first child;  they now have four (!) plus a recently-acquired puppy. I don't have any such accomplishments to brag about, and in many ways -- certainly in that respect -- my life and who I am has not changed a lot. I am, and will always be, a childless bereaved mother. My grief  over my stillborn daughter (August 1998) was still quite raw when the millennium dawned in January 2000;  by January 2010, we had only just stopped facilitating the pregnancy loss support group we had attended as clients.

When the millennium began in 2000, we were heading for a consultation with a reproductive endocrinologist in February.  A year & a half later, we were done, our dreams of having a family dashed to pieces.  The 2000s were the decade in which I gradually came to terms with the fact that motherhood was not going to happen for me;  that hasn't and will not change.  I continued to hope for a miracle pregnancy for much of the 2000s/through my early/mid-40s -- but once I crossed the threshold of the 2010s and my 50s, I knew for certain I was not going to have a child. Moreover, I no longer wanted a child by that point in my life, much as I had once wished for one. I knew that ship had sailed. 

But even though I had left most of the drama of infertility & loss behind me by the start of the last decade, I guess I have still experienced some pretty major life changes and upheavals over the past 10 years. In January 2010, I was turning 49 (!).  Dh & I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary in July and took a week's vacation in Nova Scotia that fall as a present to ourselves. (My parents celebrated their 50th that same July, and we gave them a big party to mark the occasion.) At work, our department's longtime senior VP had recently moved on to another position, and the new SVP, while a very nice person, began making some major changes. My immediate boss, whom I'd worked for over the past 15+ years, saw the writing on the wall and decided to retire that spring.  The upheaval continued over the next four years for both me & dh, as the company we both worked for transitioned to new leadership. He lost his job in April 2013 and I lost mine in July 2014.  

The young people around us -- including our two wonderful nephews, and Parents' Neighbours' Daughter -- grew up, finished their education, found jobs and partners and got married, and started having families of their own.  Our peers started becoming empty nesters, and then grandparents. We said goodbye to my wonderful father-in-law, and I watched my own two parents -- who had me when they were 20 & 21, and were always the youngest parents in the room! -- begin to age more and more noticeably.  My mother was already retired when the last decade began;  my father sold his business but continued to work part-time until his 80th birthday this past summer. It's been a decade of transitions for them too, with more changes certain to come. They will mark their 60th wedding anniversary this summer. 

At dh's prodding, four years ago, we dramatically downsized our possessions and sold our home of 26 years -- the house we'd hoped would be a home to our children, the children that never arrived -- and moved across the metropolitan area into a two-bedroom condo, closer to BIL and his family. Downsizing and relocation -- on top of the lingering effects of stillbirth & infertility, permanent involuntary childlessness, aging without children, dealing with aging parents, job loss and retirement -- all of these have been somewhat traumatic and disorienting experiences. (I was not particularly happy to move - but for the most part, I am now glad we did it, and that we did it NOW, as opposed to later.)  Each time something major has happened, I've found myself re-evaluating who I am and what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. I still haven't found any conclusive answers.  

In a few weeks, I will celebrate my (gulp) 59th birthday.  60 (double GULP) is not that far away.  (And in another 10 years from now, I'll be.... oh, never mind...!)  If the past 10 years (or 20... or 50!) have taught me anything, it's that time goes by way, WAY too quickly. It's easy to fall into a rut and/or let things drift.  

But I've also learned that while it's good to have plans & goals, things happen in life that we can/will never expect or foresee -- and so it's also good to develop some flexibility and resilience.  

And that even though my life is nothing like what I thought it might be when I was 20 -- it's still a pretty good life, and I am a very fortunate girl.  (Can I still say "girl" when I'm so close to 60??) 

On to the 2020s!  

2 comments:

  1. Thanks for this review. I've been thinking of doing one too. (Though I'm just writing my yearly blogging review just at the moment.) The key takeaway for me of your entire post is this:

    "Each time something major has happened, I've found myself re-evaluating who I am and what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. I still haven't found any conclusive answers."

    I think the search is the important thing. Because I'm still doing it. Who cares if we find answers, as long as we continue to grow and learn whilst we're looking for them?

    Happy new decade, Loribeth! You go girl! (That's the answer to your last question.)

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  2. I love this retrospective of where you were and what you have done and overcome. In a way it's very empowering to see the life you've built alongside the loss you've endured.

    And I'm with you. The weirdest thing about looking back 10 years is that it causes me to also look ahead 10 years. That's always what wows me!

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