Showing posts with label Childless. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Childless. Show all posts

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Reflections.

When I was angry.


Looking back through the journal, I was recalling emotions.

Confusion.
Denial.
Anxiety.
Fear.
Anger.
Bewilderment.
Dizziness.
Rejection.
Bargaining.
Praying.  (okay, that's not an emotion.)
Tumult.
Sorrow.
Anguish.
Indignation.
Depression.
Suicidal.
Sick.
Hurting.
Storm.
Grief.
Ire.
Distemper.
Heartbreak.
Tears.
Heartache.
Flooding.
Numb.
Wretchedness.
Irritability.
Indifference.
Stupor.
Misery.
Lethargy.
Millstone.
Infuriation.
Resignation.
Suffering.
Reluctance.
Emptiness.
Numbness was my best friend.
Emotion-less.
Cloudy.


The thing is that I couldn't put a finger on when I started thinking there is life after infertility.  I believe it was when I realized somewhere, somewhen, maybe with meeting my nephew Eli for the first time at age of 2, or when it was when I was headbutting against an anti who was eager to bully a grieving woman coming in for a D&C for her dead fetus (wanted pregnancy, by the way), or when I realized the Deaf community is behind in its access to full education and almost no voice in politics.

 Somewhere among those, the spark was re-lit within me. When? I don't know and I do not see any point in trying to nail that moment. That does not matter.  What matters is how I chose to live again on my terms. 

Even more when I look at my Pinterest account (don't everyone have  nowadays?), I do see how the collections change with me through the time- there are collections on Infertility blogs, Infertility posts, grief and anger memes, "what if" collections- and there are collections on Geek art, comic books, Tiny houses, racial justice, intersectionality.  The first collections were prominent in 2011 to 2014, while second group of collection started popping up around 2013. Swinging forth and back between the collections.  I see the last time I had posted something in first group (infertility) was in 2015 when I found out I would be an aunt again. "Congrats on being an aunt again. And you're still infertile" was the last post. And I recall looking at that post and was thinking to myself,

"Do I want to feel sorry for myself? Go back into the void, wrapping myself in the comfort of numbness and darkness?"

And my answer.  "Fuck that.  Life is too short."   And made a new collection about 'Womanhood' of how I interpret womanhood- not by the womb to create a baby, but by the capability to create life out of love, passion and perseverance.

And there's a collection in which is basically my 'picture-diary', with the earliest images being dark, stormy, anguish, like crying woman, thunderstorms, cliffs, abandoned buildings, screams, and quotes like ""Don't judge my path if you haven't walked my journey".


Now with recent additions to that collection, I see there is hope, life, passion, wilderness, depth, reading. Michfest. Labyrinths. Protesting.  Art. Self-love. 



And that tells me that I'm healing.



Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Still Alive.

I had forgotten the password for this blogspot, and I wasn't in any hurry to restore that.

Have been very busy lately, with classes, volunteering, local activities and moderating three Facebook groups, on top of providing workshops here and there.

So yes, I'm still alive.

Will catch up with the bucket list for 2014, and some updates soon.

And yes, I survived the third anniversary two weeks ago-  on that day, it was finally snowing after months of no snow.  Instead of feeling the drowning grief of the first anniversary or emotional numbness of the second anniversary, I felt passive resignation.

Well, that's a step toward healing.

(artist unknown, if you know who, please let me know so I can credit) 

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Love me


Have been full up to my ears, Ha!  

So hadn't time to check in with my blog for a long while, which is both good and not so good.  

One reason I have to come to a consideration, (which might be a sensitive spot for some readers), is that whenever I write about my infertility, my sorrow, my frustrations, I find myself in a cycle of depression, clockwise.  
And I don't like that.  

I have been out of state several times, including YES, the MICHIGAN'S WOMYN MUSIC FESTIVAL!!!  That experience walking on the Land under the moonlight, seeing womyn drum and dance, and of laughter and tears among us, I cannot really describe it.   How can you describe the color red to someone blind?  This is similar to whenever I try to describe the event. 

I have been increasing busy in activism, including reproductive justice, domestic violence, awareness of Deaf community/American Sign Language, and my beloved passion, labyrinths.  


Does it mean I have forgotten or pushed aside my infertility? 

No. I still find myself feeling sad, but the frequency and length of experiencing sorrow had stretched to the point that it feels like a soft headsmack, when occurring now and then. Not so like the baseball bat slam that I'd frequently experienced in my heart in the first year, or the cold water bath in my face in the second year.   AND I enjoyed holding a baby earlier this summer, which was a HUGE step for me, to the point that I'd keep looking for opportunities to hold her when possible during that week of camping.  

After two years, I feel it is safe to say that yes it is still hard that I am not anywhere near to my goal of having a child, either by adoption or foster care.  Being deaf is its own obstacle, imagine that.   So that's the battle ongoing in my life.  

When I have time, I'll write more. 

So on this note, I will leave this for you-    love y'all, love me.  


Sunday, July 20, 2014

Good point.

for folks who can't read tiny words
"Why do people do that?   Deny that they've ever done anything wrong in a relationship. Why can't people just take responsibility for their shit and move on?" 


Enuff said.

Monday, March 24, 2014

Life goes on.

This month had thrown a lot of cold water in my face repeatedly.

 A new medical condition.  Finance struggles.  A dying friend. 

The medical condition- I'm currently working on it.  I'll live.

Finance struggles- I'm currently working on it.  I'll survive.  

The dying friend?  Not so.  


I knew she was suffering in great pain, yet I was telling myself she'll recover.  She will be okay- just give it a bit more time.  


I was at work when I got the call to come to the hospital.  It took me three hours, and I was not familiar with the area of hospitals (why do some hospitals have to cluster together in one area?!). So I decided to park somewhere in an underground garage parking, thinking I'll find out where the right building is once I get to the first floor and ask.   I got on the elevator, and pressed the button for the first floor.  

The doors opened to a scene that I'd rather go without.

Labor & Delivery- registration.   

Pregnant women waiting to check in.

Definitely cold-water shock!    

I quickly left the floor as I could, but I was already reeling in shock.  I was outside, focusing on not railing at the world publicly.   I managed to find the right building (three buildings away).   Walking down the hallway, I found myself overwhelmed with rerunning the visual of the labor ward/floor over and over in my mind, while trying to remind myself "you're here for your friend. You're here for your friend."  

I couldn't think of my friend.  I got to the room, and opened the door- to see her lying in bed, looking really bad.  

It's like something *switched* in my mind, now fully attending to her, forgetting my own emotions.  

Standing next to her bed, seeing her unresponsive, struggling for the next breath, I knew then she was not going to recover.  

Talking with family relatives there, sharing stories and soft chuckles, hugs and tears, I knew then we are there for her, and for ourselves, to remind us death is nearby, a friend, and that life goes on. 

After hours, I leaned to kiss her cheek, not knowing if I would see her again before she passes away.  I returned to the first building, realizing I'll have to go to the lobby where the elevator would take me to the underground parking- the Labor & Delivery.    

I came in the lobby, standing still.   And I realized something.  

Life is everywhere, even being the other side of the coin, Death.   

I took a shaken breath, and went to the elevator, which opened before I could hit the button- to show a very pregnant woman and her husband. The woman smiled at me before passing me.  I went in the elevator, and went down, to my car all in silence.   Got behind the wheel and started driving the way home.  

Stayed up overnight to create a labyrinth painting, in which I named "The Fade."  Looking at it, I was reminded of something I had forgotten-  of the Hopi seeing the labyrinth as new life and reincarnation.  The Labyrinth being the womb itself, in which one comes in and out as new life, reborn.   So the seeing the pregnant women echoing something I yearn for, yet the dying friend reflecting something I had forgotten, in which she will still live in my memories, ever meeting me on my circular path  with remembrance.  



Friday, January 10, 2014

Puppy love


Soon, it'll be the second anniversary of the surgery in a few weeks, and now with the cold weather holding us indoors, this is a time on reflecting what had helped me so far, and is still helping.  





It's pretty tough being single, even in a town that have kids coming out of their ears.  I had been running out of folks who don't have kids- that's Louisville for you.  Family is all over the nation, the nearest 10 hours away.  Childless or childfree friends live in other states- so you can imagine how it's harder during the journey.   What really helped me, are my sweet  'furry little persons with four legs.'  

If not for my Lola and Hairy, I don't know what life would be like, and to be honest with you...?  Something I'd not want to know.  



Unconditional love.  Tail wags.   Tongue licks.   Insists on laying on your lap even when the laptop is there already.    Poking noses into my face while I sleep.  Leaving messes in the crate (thank you!)
White fur all over the red armchair, and brown fur on the cream sofa.  Dog poop bags.  Vet bills.  Agility training (for the lil' girl).  Dental cleanings.    Bringing in mud after long trail hikes.  Laughter.  Nose touches.  Sloppy kisses. My furry kids.  



And I would not ever consider trading them for a child.   The dogs came in my life first, and they'll stay there until then.  



I got both lil' dogs from a rescue. It's funny- I was feeling good that I had rescued them, after they were unwanted, abandoned and forgotten. 

  And you know what? In truth, they are rescuing me.   



Sunday, September 15, 2013

Children of Elfquest

I am taking a page from Jody Day's Gateway Women blog, especially the tradition of identifying childless role models (such as Georgia O'Keefe, an artist, and Susan Anthony, a civil right activist), to give my own childless heroes a well-deserved recognition, and of their contribution to the world, the geek world, that is.


That would be Wendy and Richard Pini, the creators of Elfquest. What is Elfquest?  It's a comic book that came to life in 1978, of a story about elves (certainly not your Santa Claus elves or Tolkein's elves) trying to survive and find their place in a two-moon world, after their ancestors were stranded on the unwelcome world.  The main characters include Cutter, the 11th chief of the Wolfriders (yes, the tribe members literally ride upon wolves and live in the woods); Skywise, Cutter's best friend/blood-brother (and smart-ass, if you ask me), and Leetah, the healer for the Sun Folks (another group of elves who are peaceful and living in the desert.)

Skywise and Cutter
 (copyrighted by Wendy and Richard Pini)


The story wasn't limited to them, tho; there is a community of other characters, from the treeshaper Redlance to the glider Aroree, to trolls Pickaxe (yup, you read that right- *giggle*), and to preservers that could pass for winged fairies and humans aren't forgotten either. They range from enemies to an human daughter adopted by elves. War, love, death, life struggles and joy, laughter and tears, and philosophy could be found on pages, giving one awareness of worlds beyond what we see.


For me, Elfquest was a lifesaver.  

In 1984, I was a teenager, in a new house, in a new state, new school, away from everything familiar to me. Even more when you get to think about me being deaf, furthermore isolated and bullied.    I plummeted into depression.

It was one of those weekends I had to go with mom to her work on a Saturday.   There was a newspaper stand, that had a limited selection of books and a rack of comic books nearby.  So I was peering at the rack of comic books for something to keep myself busy while mom was working upstairs.  Used to see covers of Spider-man and Batman, I was surprised to see an unusual cover of  a group of pointed-eared humanoids, walking across a desert.  

( Elfquest copyrighted by Wendy and Richard Pini)

What struck me was their desperation.  Walking in an hostile environment that can bring death to them.  You would presume that one on the cover is already dead.    I opened the comic book, reading about the elves losing their home to a fire, and of choosing to walk the desert, not knowing if there would be cool dark woods on the end.  They took a gamble on an unfamiliar object that Skywise (turned out to be an lodestone) acquired in the caverns of the trolls. I was so mesmerized, drawn into the world. The colors, the words, the pictures, I was lost in the sphere and I welcomed the depth of the story that swallowed me.   


I was startled awake when a hand laid on my shoulder, shaking me, and I looked up, blinking in an attempt to adjust myself back to the harsh reality to see that it was mom. She was telling me it was time to go home and to put away the comic book.  I begged for her to buy the issue for me; she refused as usual.  Images flew through my mind while I was staring out the window in the car; Cutter worried about his injured tribe member; Skywise's confidence in his lodestone even that he only got it a few hours ago; and the doubt on whether the tribe would survive the walk through the desert, with two wolf deaths.  They may be a tribe, but they were also a family.

I wanted to be one of that family.  I forgot that I had a plan to kill myself that night.  

Instead, I was considering wildly on how to gain all that Elfquest issues, knowing that mom  wasn't keen on me reading comic books.  It was a week later when we went to WaldenBooks (anyone remember that book chain?), I found that Elfquest are available in graphic novels!  I was freaking out- "I MUST have those!"    After convincing mom that I'd do all my chores without complaining for 30 days, she is to get me all graphic novels she could find.  You can picture anyone a parent would think to herself, chuckling "that kid won't go through, it won't happen."   

I did do all my chores, even extra ones without complaining!    On the 30th night, I reminded mom of our agreement, showing her the calendar with checked days, that she had to get all the graphic novels. 

Mom knew she was beat.  

After floating through the school day, waiting impatiently at home, and peering outside to see if mom had arrived, my heart was pounding.  I was right there at the door when mom came in, and I exclaimed, "wherearemybooks?!"  She handed me a Waldenbook bag, in which I quickly drew two graphic novels, Elfquest Books 2 and 3.  After being told that the two others (1 and 4) weren't there (of course, I grumbled!), and rushing through dinner, I ran to my bedroom to devour the books.  

(Elfquest copyrighted by Wendy and Richard Pini)

It was basically in the wee hours of the morning (3 o'clock if you have to know) when I looked up, dazed, finished with the second book (Elfquest Book 3). 

A spark was lit in my soul. 

I wanted to live.

If the elves can survive the challenges, so can I.  If the elves could live through hardships and still live day by day with eyes of joy, so could I.   I drew hope from the illustrations, breathed in perseverance and courage from the characters, and welcomed life.   I wasn't alone anymore. 

When I found myself forgotten and bruised from bullying, I opened the book to remind myself, Winnowill (a villain) tried to control the Wolfriders because they were different. Humans tried to erase them from existence. The elves refused to be victims, and so I had the choice too, to refuse being a victim.  I refused to tolerate bullying; I spoke up.  Bullying stopped, (and hitting one back, certainly did help.)    

When I felt darkness of depression upon me, I buried myself under the blanket, with a flashlight and the ragged-corner books, welcoming me back to the two-moon world. 

It took two another years before I finally got the Book 4, and another year for the Book 1 (I know I should have started with Book 1, but damn, that was always out!)  My beloved Grandma managed to find a copy, Book 1, for my Christmas gift- the best present ever!  

I must make a confession. In a few years later, I was a college student, aspiring to meet Wendy and Richard one day. I was visiting an interpreter friend who lived in Poughkeepsie.  I was telling her about Elfquest, and of my dream, adding that the couple was living in the same town.  You know what she did?  She asked me for the address- I kept saying "No, no that'd be RUDE of me to show up at the door...! They would think me an insane stalker!"  

Next thing I knew, I was at the door, dragged out of the car by the friend, to the door.  I stood there, frozen in excitement and terror.  The friend prodded at me "go ahead, ring the doorbell." I was overcome with racing thoughts: "ohcrapohcraptheyaregoingtocallcopsonmeohcrapohcraptheyaregoingtothinkmecrazy!" 

So she pushed the doorbell.  

Then, Richard was there.  It had been over fifteen years ago, and I still remember vividly to this day, his curiosity about two strange women standing front of him, both signing with hands (although one was voicing for me).  The friend had to poke at me to say something, in which I rushed out my name, where I came from, how much I love Elfquest, rambling all in one breath. Bless her heart, the interpreter friend managed to get it all out for Richard to understand what I said.  Richard took it all graciously and smiled, asking me if I'd like to come in.  Would I ever!!??

He showed me around in the place, the room where he was editing pages for Elfquest: Kings of the Broken Wheel.  He showed me how to put a speech balloon in a panel. He printed out an Elfquest cover with Cutter and Rayek in front, with Cutter saying "Hello, Julie!" and handed it to me.  I was drowning in awe. When I thought we would have to leave, Richard asked if we would like to meet Wendy. 

I was FLOODED, oh yes oh yes!   So we walked down the street, to a cute house.   We all entered, and Wendy was coming out of a room, smiling. I felt like a guest, with the gates to Elfquest just swung open to me. She showed me art she had done, which took over the room from floor to ceiling, and items that fans had sent to her, including two cloth dolls, Cutter and Skywise and a real elf-sized sword, New Moon, Cutter's sword! She encouraged me to pick it up, and it was surprising heavy yet light, and I was so delighted when I realized the pommel could be taken out, revealing the hidden key!  I rattled off many names, even minor characters, in which Wendy admitted she couldn't remember every single character and their names (that ought tell you how much  of this obsession was back then!).  I asked her even if there'd be a deaf elf, in which Wendy said there was, a mother of a major character.  I was glad to hear that, since as you know, dear readers, I'm deaf.  The interpreter friend's fingers were flying fast as I talked about how Elfquest changed my life, and how happy I was to meet with them at last. Richard and Wendy were wonderful hosts! 

Standing outside, waiting for the friend to unlock her car door, I was in a blissful mystification. She laughed and said "Now, are you sorry that I dragged you here?"   

So it had been 28 years since Elfquest entered my life, shifting the path from despair to life. 


This year, Elfquest is celebrating 35 years, with so many books, with a variety of artists and writers all in the two-moon world, but always watched fondly by Wendy and Richard Pini.   Thanks to Wendy, underground comics were growing popular (not of the Marvel or DC universes).  Their having a company of their own with the Elfquest story, independent of the mainstream comics, contributed to people aspiring to create their own stories, such as A Distant Soil, for one. There were so many comics that I couldn't include 'em all here.  And to add, Wendy was the ARTIST and writer with her husband being co-writer and editor, which was unusual in the 1970's.  Comic artists had always been men, until Wendy Pini's entrance into the comic book world (as Red Sonja- cosplay- which is another story! LOL) 

Now what does childlessness have to do with the couple?  They chose not to have children.  They chose to give life to characters in their mind, to put word of whispered stories onto pages,  and to introduce the two-moon world and the pointed-eared ethos to a world used to caped superheroes. So Elfquest was created...and shall we say "And they're off!"  One'd think that the couple would feel absence of children as they get older.  You'd be wrong.  

So many readers have seen themselves in the stories; many explained how Elfquest had affected them personally- even saving some lives (and mine). So many stories mirroring our lives in ways you could not imagine.   From the elves' story, we rediscovered humanity in ourselves, and rekindled hope in seeing what life can offer us, with new eyes.  So many of us have been inspired, that even some of readers are introducing their own children to Elfquest, giving the stories a new generation to live on.  

And that's where Wendy and Richard find their joy in.    As Richard said in this article "Elfquest- 35 Years and Beyond", after being told over and over by fans describing how Elfquest influenced their lives, even saving some of them, Richard said, "Any time someone says 'you inspired me' or 'you helped me'-- you're our kids.  You are our spiritual and creative and artistic and wonderful kids.  And thank you all for being that... You are now our family, our tribe."  

His quote helped me realize something- we do not have to rely on parenthood, to find our place in the world.  There are other ways to leave a mark on the world, as Georgia O'Keeffe did with her painting, Susan Anthony with her activism, and Wendy and Richard with their Elfquest.  There are other ways to be a family, a tribe, to raise and/or teach children and individuals. 

So from my heart, I thank you, Wendy and Richard.   You saved me and many, and in turn, you can trust that Elfquest will be safe in our hands, our heads and our hearts.  


( Elfquest copyrighted by Wendy and Richard Pini)

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Fast Forward

(from movie "The Princess and the Frog")

I didn't realize 'til now that I am flying to see family in a few days.    Where did time go?    

Summer flew by faster than I expected- as if someone pushed the "fast forward" on a channel remote and it is all a blur.  

I couldn't figure if that was great or that it went fast by-  don't get me wrong-  there was some days that was totally awesome (hadn't yet shared my post on another blog- 506 reads in one day, and a lot of comments- WOW!- That's a record for me.)  Other days, not so great, and the rest of days, you know how that was. 

The trip to see the family is making me anxious.   A part of me is excited; I hadn't seen some cousins in 20 years, and we'll be celebrating our grandmother's 95th birthday this coming weekend.  A part of me is a bag of emotions- it'll be the first time I'll see my nephew in person- he just had become 1 year old. I hadn't yet put words on those emotions.     Another part is sad- I'll be seeing my other grandmother, who is dealing with dementia, which I had written about:  Remembrance.    Her dementia is worsening to the point that she is not able to complete sentences anymore, or remember anyone but Grandpa (who died in my 20's).  

So you have it....all juggling with emotions.


And they call it a vacation?   My ass.