"Eunice" by Eileen McNamara

It's been nice to see more attention being paid in recent years to the Kennedy family women, both collectively (e.g., "The Kennedy Women" by Laurence Leamer) and individually. In recent years I've read a book about the oldest Kennedy sister, Rosemary (reviewed here), and two books about next-oldest sister, Kathleen ("Kick") (reviewed here and here).

Now it's Eunice Kennedy Shriver's turn in the spotlight, with "Eunice: The Kennedy Who Changed the World" by Eileen McNamara. McNamara, a Pulitzer Prize-winning Boston journalist, was granted unrestricted access to more than 30 boxes of Eunice's private papers, as well as interviews with her five children and other family members, friends and colleagues. 

McNamara calls Eunice "the Kennedy who changed the world," and she makes a strong case that Eunice's contributions have had an even greater impact than those of her famous political brothers, John, Robert & Ted. "[She] is the reason we no longer lock away children and adults with intellectual disabilities -- that we educate them, employ them and help them thrive." 

Eunice grew up in the shadow of her four older siblings -- the dazzling "Golden Trio" of Joe Jr., John and Kathleen -- as well as Rosemary, who was, in the language of the time, "mentally retarded" -- and whose condition was made worse when her father (without telling her mother!!) arranged to have her lobotomized.  As the book's jacket states, Eunice's determination and compassion were "born of rage: at the medical establishment that had no answers for her sister Rosemary; at the revered but dismissive father whose vision for his family did not extend beyond his sons; and at the government that failed to deliver on America’s promise of equality."

After her botched lobotomy, Rosemary was sent to live with nuns in Wisconsin and disappeared from both public and family life for decades. But Eunice never forgot her beloved sister.  While she was never its titular head, she ran the family's Joseph P. Kennedy II Foundation for more than 50 years, and focused its work on scientific research that would benefit the mentally retarded (which was then practically non-existent). She hosted summer camps for intellectually disabled children at her home in Maryland, which eventually evolved into the Special Olympics.  After her father suffered a stroke in 1961, Eunice assumed responsibility for Rosemary's care and, after his death in 1969, she brought Rosemary back into the family fold.  

While mental retardation was Eunice's primary cause and the driving force throughout her life, she also advocated for a number of other issues, including support for juvenile delinquents, teen mothers and their babies. Shortly after he became president, she pushed her brother, Jack, to create a separate federal research institute focused specifically on maternal and child health -- the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development --  that now bears her name. 

Many of us in the ALI community have benefited directly from Eunice's persistence on this issue:  

He was cautious, asking his sister why he should invite the ire of NIH officials by arguing for creation of an institute none of them thought necessary. Sailing on Nantucket Sound that summer, Eunice reminded him of his and Jackie's own experiences: one child lost to miscarriage and another to stillbirth. These common but little understood tragedies affected millions of American families, she told him, but they garnered the attention of precious few researchers. For Eunice, the conclusion was obvious: maternal and pediatric medical research promised breakthroughs for all children, not just for those born with mental retardation.... 

A focus on human development throughout the stages of life incubated such new medical specialties as neonatology, which, in the years ahead, would pioneer fresh prevention and treatment approaches, eventually all but eliminating deaths from conditions such as hyaline membrane disease. That lung condition was the most common cause of death among premature infants when Jack signed the NICHD into law in 1962, claiming twenty-five thousand lives a year in the United States. Tragically, it would claim the life of his own son, Patrick Bouvier Kennedy, thirty-nine hours after he was born five and a half weeks premature on August 7, 1963. (p. 169)

"If that girl had been born with balls, she would have been a hell of a politician," her father is reported to have said about her. She campaigned tirelessly for her brothers, advised them, prodded them on behalf of her pet causes, and helped write their speeches. Many thought she would have made a fine president herself. But McNamara argues that she made a far better lobbyist:  

Impatient and insistent, she was the definition of impolitic. In her missionary zeal, she did not much care who she offended in pursuit of her aims. She left it to others to smooth the feathers she ruffled along the way...  

The qualities that might have inhibited a career as a politician enhanced Eunice's effectiveness as an advocate. Good intentions did not impress her;  results did. She measured herself, and everyone around her, by what got done, not by what got promised. It is no wonder then that President Kennedy instructed his aides to "just give Eunice what she wants," not because she was an irritant, although she could be that, but because he trusted that, on issues that mattered to her, his sister had figured out what worked. (p. xxiii) 

If you have any interest in the Kennedy women (or high-achieving women generally) or civil rights for people with disabilities, you will find this book an engaging read.  

This was book #6 that I've read so far in 2018, bringing me to 25% of my 2018 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am -- so far! ;)  -- on track to meet my goal.  :) 

#MicroblogMondays: An emotional weekend

This was a very emotional weekend, for several different reasons:

• Aunt Flo returned to haunt me over the weekend, after a 41-day absence. :p   Boo, hiss... :p 
• Guess that explains the recent zits...! :p   
• But -- better this weekend than next...!! 
• Just before we went to bed Friday night, we heard that a bus carrying a junior hockey team -- the Humboldt Broncos -- had crashed in northeastern Saskatchewan, and that there were fatalities involved  When we woke up the next morning, CNN (CNN!!) was saying that 14 young hockey players and others on the bus -- half of those aboard -- had died.  (The toll has sadly since risen to 15.) Most of the survivors were injured, some critically. Horrific. I lost it when I saw the now-famous photo of three surviving players, side by side in hospital beds. Holding hands. 
• The crash occurred just a few miles north of one of the small towns where I spent part of my childhood.  It is both a bleak and beautiful area of the country, especially in the winter. I just read two first-person articles that got me teary all over again with homesickness for the Prairies. Thank you, Sharon Butala and Lorna Dueck.
• I've been through Humboldt many times as a kid, travelling en route to Saskatoon for medical appointments, to shop and to visit family friends. 
• The players were all between the ages of about 16 to 20. I scrolled down a list of the team members' names and birthdates and saw over & over again "1998" "1999" "2000"... in other words, they were all around the same age that my Katie would have been. :( 
• I have never played hockey.  But as a Canadian, it's all around us -- it's part of the culture, part of our collective heritage. In the small Prairie towns where I grew up, the rink was and is is the heart of the community and the focal point of much of its social life. I spent hours & hours hanging around them, taking figure skating lessons, skating with my friends during "free skate" hours, watching the boys practice and play hockey (it was mostly boys in those days), eating stale potato chips and sour gumballs from the concession stand, playing hide and seek with my friends underneath the wooden bleachers.  There was always hockey at the rink, and on Saturday nights on TV (and when I was growing up, we only had ONE channel, so we had no other choice but to watch!).  
• As communities have shrunk and teams have folded, remaining teams must travel further and further to play each other -- often on a bus like the one that crashed. The Prairies are vast, and thinly populated.  Humboldt to Nipawin is about 2.5 hours one way, which is not unusual for a road trip. Depending on where you're going the roads might not be that great, especially during the winter, and bad weather is always something to watch out for. As one NHL player said this weekend, "We've all been on that bus."  
• One of my online friends is the mom of four now-grownup kids, two of whom got married last year. One couple is now expecting their first child and they had a "gender reveal" party this past weekend. So not only did I get to witness the photos & videos of the party on social media, but the gleeful grandma-to-be's triumphant posting "My first grandchild is a GIRL!"
• I have dutifully liked so many of her mom-brag posts about her kids and their accomplishments.  It wouldn't have taken much effort to just click on the damn "like" icon one more time, & move on. 
• But this time, I just. couldn't. do it. :(  
• And of course, Younger Nephew's wedding is fast approaching. Despite my eye-rolling over SIL & Fiancee's mom getting teary over the kids cleaning out their closets ;) I have to admit I am a pretty sentimental sap myself, especially when it comes to weddings, nevermind when my nephew (whom I still think of as an adorable toddler with a soother permanently stuck in his mouth) is the groom. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara!  ;)  

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.  

Leaving home

Younger Nephew & his fiancee cleaned out his closet this weekend, and took most of his clothes & other stuff over to their new apartment, where they'll be living after their upcoming wedding & honeymoon.

Apparently SIL got quite verklempt watching them do this (much to the amusement of BIL, who told us about it).

Fiancee told SIL not to worry -- her mother did the same thing when she cleaned out HER closet.

Are they moving overseas? Across the country? Across the province? Across the city, even?? Nope. Try DOWNSTAIRS, to Fiancee's parents' basement. (Their house is 3 km = less than 2 miles/a 5-minute drive, from BIL's.) (BIL's basement is already occupied by Older Nephew and his wife.)

These are not kids (even though they'll always be kids to us, of course...), but -- even though they are both 25 years old (soon to be 26 -- Older Nephew is 29 & his wife is also 25) -- neither of them have ever lived away from him home before. It's partly a cultural (Italian) thing -- dh was the only cousin of his generation on both sides of his family to go away to school (and grad school, at that);  all of his cousins lived at home until they were married (and sometimes afterwards), and having aging parents & other relatives living with you was the norm when he was growing up and his extended family members were trying to establish themselves in this country.

It's partly because there are plenty of excellent universities and community colleges hereabouts, and so dh & his cousins (and Younger Nephew & his fiancee) were lucky enough to be able to live at home while they completed their degrees, established careers and saved money for the future.

It's also financially practical -- even necessary.  Housing, both for sale and for rent, is ridiculously expensive hereabouts, even if both you and your spouse/partner both have good, well-paying jobs.

I think about me & my younger sister, who -- like all of us who grew up in small rural towns -- had no choice but to leave home if we wanted to continue our education. We both lived in residence while we went to university, and mostly in apartments with each other or other roommates in the summers in between.  I lived at home that summer between first and second-year university (when my sister was finishing high school), but my dad got transferred and, in late August, we packed up the contents of our house into a moving van headed for storage. My mom (still not yet 40!) packed me & my sister into the car & moved us into our respective dorms, and was basically  a homeless empty nester for the next three months -- bouncing between staying in a motel with my dad & visiting my grandparents and other relatives -- while our house in the new town was finished being built.

My sister was still a week away from her 18th birthday when she got dropped off at university, and I know my mother has always felt guilty about that. But I don't ever remember my parents hanging around until the very last minute, or making teary goodbyes when they dropped us off at school, and I don't remember any similar scenes among my dorm mates either. It was a different time and a different mindset among both parents & kids. Most kids couldn't wait to get out on their own (even if we were secretly a little nervous about it), and parents, even if they felt a bit sentimental about letting their chicks leave the nest, seemed to accept the inevitable.  It was just the natural order of things, the way things were supposed to be.

I did return home to live with my parents for a year between the end of my graduate degree and my wedding. I lucked into a job at the local weekly newspaper and gained experience in my field while saving my money, planning my wedding, and racking up long distance phone bills to dh (no Internet in those days, kids! -- and long distance wasn't cheap, either!).  I have to admit, I didn't think too much about what happened next. The day after the wedding, we were at my parents' house, along with dh's father & brother & two cousins, and some of our other out-of-area guests, and I suddenly realized that, umm, oh yeah, I was leaving the next day on my honeymoon, & from there, we were flying directly to my new home city (1,000 miles away from my parents) to start my new married life -- so maybe I should pack a suitcase or two??

So instead of visiting with my guests, I spent the next hour or two frantically tossing clothes & wedding gifts into a couple of suitcases that FIL & BIL could take back with them, and then another one for me to take on my honeymoon. I'm usually pretty well-organized, and my wedding was meticulously planned (the minister told me I was the most organized bride she'd ever seen), but I really did drop the ball in this respect. ;)  My father did get choked up (which rarely happens) when the time came to say goodbye & return to our hotel room in the city, from which we were flying out in the morning. That hit me hard, and I cried halfway back to the hotel (an hour-long trip). I was 24 & dh was 28.

So, hearing about these two moms, whose kids are now older than I was when I got married (and years older than I was when I left home to go to school), getting all choked up because the offspring are moving a few BLOCKS/FEET away, left me feeling a bit bemused. As I said, different times, different generations of both parents & kids, different attitudes.

I suppose some might say I don't get it because I don't have kids of my own.

Or you might say it's just sour grapes (because I don't have kids of my own).

(You might be right there.)

Whatever the reason, it's just one more thing that clearly sets me apart from the current generation of the parenting majority...

"When Do You Stop Trying to Have a Child?"

(Contains spoilers)

"When Do You Stop Trying to Have a Child?" the New York Times headline in my feed asked.

"Well," I thought, as I clicked over, "it's nice to see the Times addressing these difficult subjects." 

What was I expecting to read? I guess -- based on the headline -- I was expecting (hoping?) for the story of a couple who made the difficult decision to stop trying to have a baby, how they came to that decision, and managed to survive and, yes, even thrive, even though things did not turn out the way they had hoped or expected.  I wouldn't have been surprised, or minded (much ;)  ) if they decided to pursue adoption after closing the door on trying to conceive themselves.

What I read:

The first thing I saw was the illustration that accompanied the article: a child with his parents. All righty then... was this a real child, or a hypothetical dream child?

Then the lede (first sentence):  "Our first child came easily." (Well, goody for you...)  Conceived on a trip to southeast Asia, no less.

Okay. So this was a story about secondary infertility, then. 

I read on.

The article was a first-person essay by the husband. In the two years after this couple decided to try for a second child, his wife endured five miscarriages. 

I felt sadness as the husband described the story that so many of us know so well: the excitement of a positive pregnancy test, the anxiety over every trip to the bathroom, the hurdle of the early ultrasound, the heartbeat that is too weak, or doesn't exist. The search for answers, for anything that will help the next time around. The feeling of failure. The resentment of couples who already have children (in their case, more than one child). 

"I was unprepared for the grief that followed the first miscarriage," the author writes. "That unmistakable, deep ache that lies beyond mere sadness. We had lost a family member."

The couple's marriage suffered. 

How long were we supposed to keep this up, enduring the nerve-racking trips to the bathroom, the tests, the bleeding, the screaming, the bouts of weeping? 

I wanted another child. But I also wanted our life back — a life that wasn’t interrupted by death every few months...

Couldn’t we accept how good things actually were for us? Or would we always focus on what we didn’t have? And how much more could my wife’s body take? Surely it was time to accept our family the way that it was — the three of us.

The internet is full of stories from women who’ve suffered multiple miscarriages — but they tend to end in success and messages of encouragement (“I finally had a child. Don’t give up. It could happen for you.”).

Could we allow ourselves to stop when we had “only” five? When we couldn’t say we had tried everything? Wouldn’t we be quitting on our son and his chance to avoid eternal loneliness?

And then -- (guess what??): 

And so we decided that we would give it one more try. One last go. The final job before retirement, like at the beginning of a heist movie. We went back to Bali for my wife’s 40th birthday. 

And now we have another son.

(To say my eyes rolled would be an understatement.)

I know how lucky we are to have these boys. We didn’t think we’d be another inspirational “don’t give up” story. 

We were ready to give up. And that would have been O.K. 

I am sure they would have been OK, too. But it's easy to say when you're watching your two children play together, isn't it?  Methinks the author doth protest too much. :p

I'm happy they got their "rainbow" baby. (Really.)  But the answer to the question posed in the title seems to be.... "Don't give up!!"  Right?  And there are plenty of us out there who know the price you can pay for doggedly pursuing pregnancy, cycle after cycle, loss after loss: mental, physical and financial exhaustion. Ruined marriages and ruined health.

There are no hard & fast rules for "when to stop," of course (whether you have other children or none at all). Everyone's "line in the sand" is different. Dh & I stopped at one stillbirth & three rounds of medicated IUIs;  some people stop after half a dozen IVF attempts, some never try IVF at all.

But I think that hearing more stories of "we stopped, and this is when & why (your mileage may vary) -- and we are here to tell the tale, and life can still be good" (etc. etc.) would be so, so helpful for other couples contemplating the same questions and difficult decisions.

I am happy to note, though, that (although there were only 5 comments on the article, last time I looked), the two most recommended were singing my song:  ;) 

From Maine Dem in Maine:

This article would have relevance to the subject if written from the perspective of someone who had no children and did have to give up. The article is about "when do you stop trying". Not sure how the article answers that.

And from Brian in Thompson:

I’m tired of these stories that end like this. As a family that tried far longer w/o success, this headline made me think this was a story for those of us without the happy ending. The NY Times needs more sensitivity in headlines so as not to lead the silent group like my family down the path of yet another happy ending story.

(Sorry if this post is a little too bitter. It's been that kind of day...)

Right now

Right now... (an occasional meme, alternating from time to time with "The Current"):

Reading:  I'm currently reading Michael Wolff's "Fire and Fury," about the Trump White House. :)  No huge surprises (yet) -- the biggest bombshells have already been well-publicized, of course, and what might be new information (to me) is not, generally, unsurprising or unexpected.  ;)  

To date, I've finished 5 books (out of my Goodreads 2018 Reading Challenge goal of 24 books).  I've also been trying to tackle my pile of unread magazines, and having some success -- I haven't eliminated the pile entirely, but it's come down to a more reasonable level....! 

Recent purchases: 

• Shrewed: A Wry and Closely Observed Look at the Lives of Women and Girls by Elizabeth Renzetti 
• Don't Call Me Princess: Essays on Girls, Women, Sex, and Life by Peggy Orenstein 
• Ask Me About My Uterus: A Quest to Make Doctors Believe in Women's Pain by Abby Norman 
• I Was Anastasia: A Novel by Ariel Lawhon 
• Eunice: The Kennedy Who Changed the World by Eileen McNamara

Watching:  I missed the first episode of the new reboot of "Roseanne," but watched the second. I was never a huge fan of the old series but I did watch it from time to time, particularly in the early years. Personally, I'm not sure people were watching for the politics (at least, not all of them) -- I think many people watched because they loved the old show and wanted to see the old familiar faces and were curious about what the characters were doing now and how they look (at least some of the ones who have been further off the public radar, like Becky & DJ) and how they have evolved over the past 20 years. (Interesting from an ALI viewpoint that they have Becky involved in a surrogacy plotline.)  ABC has already renewed the series for a second season, based on the huge ratings the first two episodes (aired back to back) received. I guess time will tell if those ratings can be sustained. 

On the big screen: Haven't been to a movie in the theatre lately, but hope to remedy that soon...! 

Listening:  Haven't been listening much lately to any music or podcasts.  

Following:  Several of the leaders from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, on social media. I love that they are so incredibly articulate & inspiring -- and yet they are also still kids, talking about the spring musical and homework assignments, making self-deprecating comments about themselves and trading jokes with each other. 

Eating:  Still enjoying my stockpile of Lindor chocolate mini-Easter eggs. :)  Who says Easter chocolate is just for kids, right??  ;)  

Wearing:  We recently took the car to the car wash & gave the inside a thorough vacuuming.  The new lightweight downfilled jacket I bought before Christmas had left the front seat COVERED in feathers, which proved difficult to vacuum up (I eventually had more success with smoothing sections of tape from a lint roller onto the upholstery & then ripping it off). After everything was cleaned up, dh banned my jacket from the car for the rest of the season -- so I've taken to wearing another jacket, a short, tweedy jacket that I recently bought at the Banana Republic factory outlet. It's surprisingly warm but not as as lightweight as the down jacket -- but I'm hoping that I'll soon be switching to something lighter still (if the weather ever warms up enough...!).  (I wrote a review (under a pseudonym) for the store website where I bought the down jacket, expressing my dismay about the feathers... three other women also wrote reviews noting their jackets were shedding feathers too, so it's definitely not just me...!) 

And, if you missed the update I posted in the comments on my recent post about "The dress I left behind me," I went back to the mall this past week. The Dress was still there -- and I bought it. :)  I have no idea when or where I am going to get to wear it, but it's now hanging in my closet. :)  Yay!  :) 

Buying (besides books, lol):  Last minute odds & ends related to Younger Nephew's upcoming wedding:  cosmetics (a new tube of waterproof mascara, pressed powder in a compact (my old one was ancient), new lipstick...), pantihose (ugh -- but I hated how my bare (pale white) legs looked in Older Nephew's wedding photos...!), etc. etc.

And oh yes -- I recently bought theatre tickets for us to see the hit musical "Come From Away" -- the touring production with an all-Canadian cast -- at the Royal Alexandra Theatre in Toronto on our wedding anniversary this summer. :)  (It's about the airline passengers who found themselves stranded in Newfoundland on Sept. 11, 2001.)  Tickets are going fast -- and they were probably the most expensive theatre tickets I've ever bought (gulp) -- and I've been to a Tony award-winning musical on Broadway ("Kinky Boots") -- but the reviews have been fabulous. I can't wait. :)

Trying:  An eyebrow primer and conditioner, of all things (!). I have been getting my eyebrows waxed a couple of times a year for years, but over the last several years, I've noticed they are not growing back as quickly, if at all... and my left eyebrow, in particular, has been thinning out in an alarming way. Plus both brows are getting greyer (!), so on the left side, it can look like I hardly have a brow at all. :p  I know it's an aging thing and I'm not alone in this, but it's annoying. :p   I had them both waxed and tinted at Christmastime, to see if it helped at all (at least make what's there show up better, right?), & it did help some, although it didn't quite last as long as I had hoped. I went back to have it done again this past week, in preparation for Younger Nephew's upcoming wedding, and the girl recommended this product. (I also bought a tube of gel, to be used in lieu of pencil, to fill the brows in further.)  She said she was skeptical at first (yeah, sure... ;) ) but she has seen the results with some of her regular clients. So I bought a mini-sized tube to try. Apparently it takes a full month of consistent use to see results -- i.e., no miracles before the wedding -- so we'll see what happens... 

Wanting:  The milder weather to hurry up & get here, already...!  (Preferably in time for Younger Nephew's wedding!) 

Loving:  Sunsets are back!!  :)  Yes, I know the sun sets every night ;)  but during the winter, it seems we don't see as many pretty, colourful sunsets. Maybe we're just not paying attention, or maybe it's because it gets dark so early. At any rate, I am loving the views from our big floor-to-ceiling window. And I am thankful that the townhouse construction behind us does not impede our view of the sky. :)

Rejoicing:  The neighbours across the hall from us -- the same ones who practically choked us with their secondhand smoke a while back, and who used to engage in plainly audible screaming matches late at night (ugh) moved out over the Easter long weekend!! Their unit is (still) for sale. (Dh thinks they might have been renting.) (Anyone want to be my neighbour??)  Now we just have to put up with the thump-thump-thump coming from the people directly above us. :p  (We think they must have a couple of kids running around to create that kind of noise -- who else has that kind of energy, right?)

Preparing: For Younger Nephew's wedding, coming up shortly...!! :)  (I've been saying "shortly" for a while now, haven't I?  But it's definitely happening sooner than later...!)  

Feeling:  Fed up with the ongoing chilly, grey weather (enough, already!!). Excited about Younger Nephew's upcoming wedding. :)     

Not the same

Klara recently wrote about encountering a neighbour at the mall and, during their conversation, realizing they shared the bond of involuntary childlessness. The woman told Klara that the two little girls she had seen her with were not her granddaughters but, in fact, her husband's niece's children, who used to be frequent visitors but seldom come since they entered their teenage years -- unless a shopping trip financed by their great-uncle & aunt is involved. (Klara adds that she prefers to share experiences with her nieces and nephews, instead of material things.)

Infertile Phoenix commented on Klara's post:

[This] is exactly why I get so annoyed and frustrated when people suggest to infertile people to just get involved with other people's children. No, it doesn't work that way. I have had enough loss in my life. I don't need to get emotionally invested in someone else's kid when I am not going to get to remain in their life. It's too painful to love, spoil, and cultivate a relationship with a child when, as the child grows up, the child and her parents forget about you or stop making time for you. I have learned this from experience.

(IP does go on to say she still enjoys a special relationship with her niece & nephew.)

This made me think about my/our relationship with our two nephews (dh's brother's two boys).  I've written before about my experiences & emotions as an aunt, and how much we adore these two. When we moved here two years ago, being closer to the nephews (particularly as we age) was a big reason. And for sure, we've seen a whole lot more of them than we would have if we'd remained in our old community, on the other side of the city.

But I wish we saw more of them than we do right now. (How much would be enough? I'm not sure.)  Right now, we drop by BIL & SIL's house once a week or so, or they come here for coffee, or to pick us up & we go out together -- mostly on weekends but occasionally after dinner on a weeknight. Older Nephew & his wife (& the dog ;) ) live in their basement, and Younger Nephew is still living at home (technically, anyway...!), so we might get to see one or both of them when we go over there.  But the boys have only ever been to our condo a handful of times, always with one or both of their parents.

Maybe things would have been different if we'd lived closer when they were younger, and had the chance to share more experiences with them. I wrote once about how I would have done things differently, had I known they were the closest thing I'd ever experience to having kids of my own.

But they're not little boys anymore, or even teenagers. They're young adults now (25 & 29), with their own friends and lives and fiancees/wives and jobs -- and, perhaps soon, their own families to worry about.  They're absorbed in their own lives right now, as young adults generally are. ;)  I think about my own younger days -- I love my aunts & uncles and am grateful for their support. I stayed with both my aunts in the city near where I grew up, many, many times over the years, with my parents and by myself. When I had medical appointments with specialists at city hospitals, or an early flight to catch from the airport, or a school science fair or debating competition to attend -- their doors were always open.  But how often did I go to visit them when I was attending university in that same city, or even just call them up? Not very often at all, I am sorry to say. (Ah, youth...) Younger Nephew already spends most of his free time at his fiancee's parents' house (where they'll be living in a basement apartment after the wedding) -- even his own parents complain that they never see him anymore, and the wedding hasn't even happened yet. ;)  What chance do we stand of seeing him more often, as a mere aunt & uncle, right?? 

I know the nephews love us, and they're both grateful for the support dh & I have given them through the years. They know we're here for them, always. And I don't doubt that if we really needed their help, now or in the future, they would be here in a flash.

(I would hate for them to read this post, sometime in the future, and feel guilty, that they did something wrong.  If anything, I feel it's my fault for not making more of a conscious effort to build those relationships when they were younger, when I had the opportunity. It's just the way things have worked out, and the way things are, as kids grow up and start to lead their their own lives. Aunts & uncles can be/are beloved -- but not necessarily a priority.)

But Infertile Phoenix is right. It is a special thing to be an aunt, &/or to have other cherished children in your life...  But other people's children, no matter how close you are or how special the relationship, are simply not a substitute for having your own children, as some parents might suggest.

It's. Just. Not. The. Same.

A life worth living

Cathy at Slow Swimmers and Fried Eggs mentioned to me and a couple of other childless-not-by-choice bloggers this week that she's had several alarming comments recently that have deeply concerned her, on a post she wrote last year about the links between infertility, depression and suicide. Here's a sampling of some of the sentiments she's received:

• I feel like if I can’t have a child, I just want to die.
• i struggle daily with just wishing my life would end.
• I want to go to sleep and never wake up... What’s the purpose of living.
• Why do I have to wake up and face the day when i really don’t want to continue like this.
• [I] am glad I found this blog, I found it because I googled infertility and suicide... I feel I am a waste of breath, I too want to just not wake up in the morning. If my parents weren’t alive I would find a way to make sure I didn’t wake up to face another day of this. 

Please go over, have a read, and perhaps leave a sympathetic/encouraging comment for these women. These comments break my heart. :(

Personally (and very happily), I don't know of anyone who killed themselves over infertility and/or childlessness.  I have, however, read of a such few cases -- often in developing countries where women's lives are generally not highly valued, and childless women's lives even less so. :(   And I've encountered a few women in infertility/pregnancy loss circles, both online & "real life," who have been deeply depressed and expressed the feeling that life without children was not worth living -- which really worried me (enough that I talked to our support organization's main office about my concerns a few times). :(

It's not entirely surprising that some women would feel a childless life is not worth living.  Think about the messages we are constantly bombarded with, from family, friends, marketers, politicians, which glorify pregnancy, babies, motherhood, "family values." Our society in the western world is perhaps not quite as chauvinistic or overtly pronatalist as it is in those developing countries I mentioned -- but the pressure (subtle and not-so-subtle) for women to have children is definitely (still) there. Those who deviate from the norm -- by choice or circumstance -- are objects of curiosity and concern, pity and paternalism, sometimes even derision and scorn. Young women here are encouraged to seek higher education and build careers -- but if they reach a certain age without finding a husband/partner and then producing a couple of adorable children, you'd better believe they will hear about it. Yes, parents complain that they don't receive enough practical support for the difficult and valuable task of raising children -- and perhaps rightly so -- but they still benefit -- in ways I don't think many (if not most) imagine or appreciate -- from social approval of parenthood, and a society that has been structured around the traditional family model. It's only when you're on the outside looking in that you begin to realize just how much our society revolves around parents and kids -- and how much childless/free people (particularly women) are ignored and devalued.

I know what it's like to live without the children I (like most women) assumed I would have. This year marks 20 years since the stillbirth of our daughter, and 20 years since I went looking for -- and finding -- support, first for pregnancy loss, and later still for surviving permanent involuntary childlessness. I tried to offer as much support as I could in return. I am definitely NOT a professional -- but my husband & I spent 10 years facilitating a pregnancy loss support group (which included many women & men who were also dealing with infertility issues), and I've spent 10 years blogging here about life after pregnancy loss & infertility -- the good, the bad, and the in-between.  I have never come close to killing myself -- but I struggled with awful anxiety attacks, post-infertility treatment. So I've been through a lot myself -- and I've heard a lot of stories from others, too.

Deep down, I always felt that I could have a good life without children -- because I already did, up to the point we started trying to conceive. I grew up proudly feminist, and I knew that I was more than my uterus -- that my life had value, beyond any children that I managed to produce (or didn't produce).

But damn, some days it was really hard to figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life, if I wasn't going to be a mother. And society certainly doesn't make it easy for us. It's a lonely place to be in, when you're the only one of your peers who doesn't have kids, while friends and family members pop out baby after baby, with what seems to be very little thought or effort. Plus, the pain of involuntarily childlessness is a taboo subject -- and it can be difficult to find family members and friends who truly understand or can empathize with what we're going through.

Happily, though, you do NOT have to do this alone.  It is much, MUCH easier to find women in the same or similar situations -- both online & in "real life" -- than it was when I left treatment 17 years ago, or even when I started blogging 10 years ago.  If you scroll down the sidebar on the right-hand side of this page, you will find my blogrolls -- three of them, including one listing my favourite blogs about pregnancy loss, infertility & adoption;  one for blogs that deal specifically with childlessness-not-by-choice;  and one for some thoughtful blogs I read & like about living childfree by choice.  I've also listed some online communities, message boards, and other resources that I've found helpful. such as Life Without Baby and Gateway Women.

And sometimes, when you're really struggling, it's a good idea to call in the professionals. Yes, it can be expensive, but there are many counsellors who work on a sliding scale/pay what you can afford basis, and there are some companies that offer mental health counselling through their employee assistance programs (both options that I benefited from personally).  There are a growing number of counsellors who specialize in helping women & couples who are dealing with grief, pregnancy loss, infertility and childlessness issues. I saw one such counsellor myself a couple of times -- but I was also lucky enough to see a couple of other professionals at different points of my journey who weren't necessarily experienced in those particular issues, but who were nevertheless sympathetic and helpful. I've heard a couple of horror stories from friends about some spectacularly unhelpful counsellors, supposedly professionals, who Just Did Not Get It.  Please don't give up if this happens to you!  Sometimes you have to try a couple of times before you find someone you "click" with.

There is life without children -- a life that's worth living. It might take a while, but things do get better. Eventually!

*** *** ***

I had this post fully written and ready to post -- and then I saw this post by Andrea Manning on Still Mothers (a blog for living childless after loss):  When It Becomes Too Much.

I don't know who Andrea is referring to here, but my heart sank as I read her words. Please read, leave a comment, discuss on your blogs and among your friends. Let's bring this issue out into the open, and let others who might be suffering in silence know that we understand, that we care, and that they are not alone.  :(