Naming the Fear & Claiming the Truth

Faith, Fertility and Me

Living with infertility is like being a passenger on a plane experiencing constant turbulence, with no idea how long the flight is, where you’re going or when you’re going to land. There’s nothing you can do except put your seatbelt on and ride it out. It’s a scary place to be.

Becca plane

Someone recently asked me how I manage to find peace while dealing with such turbulence. I often tell people my Christian faith helps me through difficult times, but I’m aware this can come across as a bit wishy-washy. What does that actually mean? This has led me to reflect on what ‘having faith’ looks like in my everyday life.

For me, faith is active; it’s a doing word, not just some far-flung concept. It’s an enabler. It creates a safe environment in which I can sing when I’m winning and cry when I’m losing. It is the solid rock…

View original post 1,312 more words

Advertisements

Intro: Why I’m Blogging

A post by my friend Becca.

Faith, Fertility and Me

It’s 2018 and my new year’s resolution is to write a blog. Why? Well, I think I have a story to tell and I’m narcissistic enough to believe people may want to read it, but not committed enough to write a book (flippin’ millennials). So blogging it is.

Storytelling is the essential human activity. The harder the situation, the more essential it is.

Tim O’Brien

This blog is my well-meaning attempt to write about faith, fertility and me, in that order of importance.

As a young married woman with a decent income, a mortgage, two cats and no children, I sometimes get asked: ‘Have you thought about having kids?’ This question is getting more frequent the older I get. It seems people I barely know feel morally obliged to remind me that my ‘body-clock is ticking’ and ‘it’s all downhill at 30’.

The truth is my husband and I have…

View original post 930 more words

Dear every cancer patient I ever took care of, I’m sorry. I didn’t get it.

Here Comes the Sun

rad

Dear every cancer patient I ever took care of, I’m sorry. I didn’t get it.

This thought has been weighing heavy on my heart since my diagnosis. I’ve worked in oncology nearly my entire adult life. I started rooming and scheduling patients, then worked as a nursing assistant through school, and finally as a nurse in both the inpatient and outpatient settings. I prided myself in connecting with my patients and helping them manage their cancer and everything that comes with it. I really thought I got it- I really thought I knew what it felt like to go through this journey. I didn’t.

I didn’t get what it felt like to actually hear the words. I’ve been in on countless diagnoses conversations and even had to give the news myself on plenty of occasions, but being the person the doctor is talking about is surreal. You were trying to…

View original post 2,108 more words

Life as a non-parent in a parent-centred world

A blog by my friend Milly.

Milly's Scribblings

There’s an article doing the rounds on Facebook called ‘Seven Things Women Without Children Want Moms to Know’. It’s a decent article, I’ve seen a few times in the past year, and I’d recommend any parent to read it to open their understanding of what it’s like for those of us who live without children.

I’m a non-parent, and after reading it, I felt I had a few things to add. These are just my perspectives and I don’t claim to speak for all non-parents.

Let me choose

Sometimes I want to be around children, sometimes I don’t. Let me choose, and let me change my mind.

In the ‘Seven Things.’ blog, one participant said:

“I’ve rarely been invited to dinner parties at homes with people with kids. Or to life festivities: confirmations, holiday celebrations, graduations, etc. I’d like to be invited. Please let me decide if I…

View original post 1,948 more words

Hello, Sunshine!

I love this poem.

The File Pile

I sigh,

From where I lie,

Chin held high,

While my eyes imbibe,

The flowing sky,

And all is right.

It’s an unusually bright,

Afternoon,

Already.

Leaves of grass,

Areweaved,

Underneath,

My back-

My hair and clothing,

Have dandelion seeds,

Clinging to them.

“The garden returns,

The flowers bloom, the weeds rise,

All from the sun’s rays.”

I sit up,

And feel the light,

Caress my face,

Hit my hair,

Warm my shoulders.

“Hello, Sunshine!

I’m glad you’ve stopped by,

Thanks for everything.”

View original post