So, I haven’t heard from the latest publisher that I sent
the “When You Can’t Have Kids” manuscript to – so I can assume that they are
not interested. It’s fun trying to get published! This particular publisher’s
way of letting you know if you are unsuccessful is for you to wait three months
and then you can assume they are not interested – there is no email to say you
have been unsuccessful, let alone feedback.
I went through my usual hour of being disappointed and then I
had a brain wave. I’ve written the book in the format of a short overview of
our story, then 34 chapters with each covering a different issue we have
experienced such as forgiveness, grief, telling other people, anniversaries of
when our babies would have been born, and being around children. In each
chapter there is a little story and then I discuss how the particular issue has
impacted on Kirby and me.
Now I’m starting to think that this format may not be the
best way to write “When You Can’t Have Kids.” I’m thinking that perhaps it
would be better to write our story as a story (as in a novel). I’m thinking
that perhaps in its current format it sounds like I am lecturing a bit, which
is something I never wanted to do.
So, my lovely readers, I am seeking your opinions – should I
stick to the current format, or should I rewrite it as a novel? I really would value your opinions.
I'm not able to attach a file to this blog entry, so I've pasted a chapter from the book below so that you can get an idea of what the book looks like.
Can’t wait to hear from you!
Chapter Fourteen: Who Are
We?
“But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between
you...
Love one another, but make not a bond of love.
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of
your souls.” From “The Prophet”, Kahlil Gibran, artist, poet and writer,
1883-1931.
After what was to be our final round of IVF I was at
a bit of a loss as to what to do with my life. I had quit my job and I had time
on my hands. I thought long and hard about it and decided that I really did
want to follow my dream of being a writer. I looked into the courses that were
available at local colleges and universities and selected a Masters of Creative
Writing. I put in my application, along with a portfolio of writing, and I
waited. It seemed to take forever to get news on whether I had been accepted or
not, and I eventually came to the conclusion that I had not been successful. I
was wrong. I was so excited to receive a letter of offer and I enrolled as soon
as I could.
There were seven other students in the course from
all different backgrounds. We all got along instantly and the support within
the group was tangible. I was in heaven. I legitimately had a reason to write,
I met three times a week with people who were as passionate about books and
writing as I was. I threw myself into my studies. I wrote as often as I could.
I participated in every aspect of the course.
It was at the end of the first year of the course,
2008, that the IVF clinic was to do the test on my eggs to see what their
quality was like, but this didn't happen. During the second year of my course
Kirby and I came to the realisation that we wouldn't be trying IVF again and
that meant that we were very unlikely to have children.
One of the things I loved about university was that
I could wear jeans and sneakers. I love wearing jeans and sneakers. I was able
to be casually dressed instead of having to dress up in work clothes all the
time. It was great. I wore minimal jewellery and minimal make-up and I felt
right at home.
I was walking up to the university on a fine, clear
morning in spring. The sunshine was lovely on my face and I was looking forward
to the class. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular as I glanced down
at my left hand and realised that my ring finger was unadorned. I remembered
that my wedding and engagement rings were still on my jewellery stand at home –
I had forgotten to put them on before I left that morning. That’s what I told
myself, anyway, but I began to feel uneasy as I realised that I couldn’t
actually remember the last time I had worn my rings anywhere.
I’ve never actually worn a lot of jewellery. I like
jewellery, but I’m not much of a girl’s girl and I tend to keep it pretty
simple. Sometimes I’ll forget to put jewellery on when I go out and I take off
most of it if I’m just going to be at home. The two pieces that are always on
me, though, are my wedding ring and my engagement ring. Kirby had my engagement
ring designed. I love it because it is not too girly, but it is beautiful. My
wedding ring matches the engagement ring perfectly. When I realised that I
hadn’t worn my rings for quite some time I felt very uneasy.
My studies were what was keeping me going and giving
me a greater sense that perhaps there was something else out there if I wasn’t
going to be a Mum. It was a way to be myself. I liked it. It was apart from
being an IVF client, apart from someone who wanted children, apart from being
someone who couldn't have children, and it was apart from being a wife.
It scared me how much I enjoyed it all, and how much
I liked being just me, and how uncertain I was about every other role in my
life, especially being a wife. I kept those thoughts to myself, but I still
turned them over in my mind and moved from seriously thinking about leaving our
marriage, to feeling so ashamed it hurt. I knew that if I left Kirby I would
hurt him so badly, but I just didn't know if I wanted to be married any more.
The main question that ran around in my head was that if I knew that we
wouldn’t have children, would I have married Kirby? I sometimes thought the
answer was no. I would have stayed single, stayed in my apartment, and stayed
myself.
I couldn't understand it. It took me a couple of
months, but eventually I realised that I had to talk to someone about it, and
that person had to be Kirby. We sat down towards the end of the year and I told
him what I had been feeling. To my utter surprise he said that he had been
feeling the same way. We both sat there dumbfounded, unsure why this had
happened and unsure what to do next.
We didn't have answers straight away, but we talked
a lot over the coming weeks, and we realised what the problem was. From the day
we had met we saw our future, our relationship, as being very much focussed on
being parents. We believed we would have children and we expected to be
partners in raising them. Our main focus over the past few years as a couple
had been on trying to have children. Now that was all gone and we weren't sure
what we had. Who were we as a couple?
We needed to do some work. We needed to redefine our
relationship based on us as a couple, and not as parents. It took time,
talking, being together and being alone with our thoughts to work through this.
There weren't definite solutions that would fix it, but some of the things we
did were to focus on our pets, to think about our house and how it worked for
us as a couple, to set goals that we could achieve as a couple, to set goals we
could achieve as individuals with the support of the other, and we also thought
about ourselves as individuals and began to give each other space on a regular
basis. By the end of the year I was again wearing my rings full time, and I
felt settled in our marriage.
This uncertainty in a relationship does not just
happen for people who realise they can't have kids. I think all couples go
through it at one time or another, and for different reasons, such as children move
out of home, or one partner moves forward on a career or personal trajectory
ahead of the other. There are all sorts of reasons, but for us it rested on who
we were as a couple if we couldn't have children.
And it's not over yet. I realise that for the rest
of our lives we will be redefining our relationship as different experiences
and knowledge come our way. We'll meet them as they come along, but I am
thankful that I had those feelings of wanting to leave. They gave Kirby and I
an opportunity to really recommit to our marriage, and to learn how to talk to
each other in a way that we hadn't needed to before. Our marriage is stronger,
and I am grateful for that.
