Summer Happenings: Masters, Saddles, and Blues

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Masters

My life has been a whirlwind the past week and a half, and filled with so many good things. I spent last week in Laramie, where I nerd-raged 24/7 on campus with the other members of my cohort, studying Shakespeare. It was a wonderful, inspiring, and rejuvenating week. We read, discussed, watched, performed, and laughed over the Bard and his wonderful words. I read Titus Adronicus, Henry V, Taming of the Shrew, and The Merchant of Venice. I am hard at work (when not posting here) on my first Shakespeare paper for class.

Taming of the Shrew Research in Coe Library

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Saddles

While I was in Laramie, I took a few minutes to swing into The Boardwalk, a great old tack store in West Laramie. There I found the Australian saddle I have been searching for: 

Jethro, my now Aussie pony

I came home in a delirium of delight, ready to try my new saddle on Jet. Happily, it fit perfectly, which was great news, since it fit me perfectly at the shop in Laramie. So now I am loving on my Man-from-Snowy-River saddle, which feels great, and will be awesome for pack trips and hunting in the mountains this year. I have dreamt of an Australian saddle for years now, imagining myself to be Jessica or Jim Craig (I do have a real, honest-to-goodness Jim Craig Cattleman hat that I love, which my dad brought me back from Australia when I was in High School). Now, I have discovered what I have been missing all this time: the most comfortable saddle! 

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Blues

I came home just in time for Father's day, which was bittersweet, the way that it has been the last few years. Not only was it Father's Day, but it was also my sweet grandmother's birthday; the first since she passed. I spent some time thinking about her, which brings me happy and sad memories both. I remember her wonderful life and all the things she gave to me. I remember watching as the Alzheimer's began to claim her, the sad and terrible process it was. I am left feeling thankful for her life and for being a part of her legacy. 

Vivian Kristensen as a young woman

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I lived through Father's Day without too much pain, which is a vast improvement upon Mother's Day just a month ago. I have spent the last month resting and praying and trying to make sense of my life as a childless woman. On Sunday, I felt good, as though I was finally getting a grip on things. The sadness I have carried around for a while now has subsided some, and I finally feel like I might be okay. I might be okay with not being pregnant. I might be okay with not ever being pregnant, if that's what comes. 

While I was in Laramie, I had some time to think about my life as a childless woman, and I began to imagine what my life might look like if Hubster and I don't end up having children. It would be a very different life than I thought I would have, but it would still be a good life. We could travel, we could give of ourselves in ways that mothers and fathers don't have space for while they raise a family. It could be okay. I could be okay. 

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Yet my fragile sense of "okay-ness" has been heaved up and over in the past 24 hours. I suppose it was inevitable that I would be emotionally tested over my new-found calm, but it's still painful. I am trying to remind myself of the ways I feel okay over my situation. 

But I am also trying to recognize that I feel sad, and that's an okay feeling to have. So I am sad today. 

I got news last night from back home: there are at least 5 young women I grew up with that are expecting right now, and so my Mama is attending baby showers like it's her job in the summertime. I am thrilled for all those girls, who are wonderful and will be (or already are) fantastic mothers. I don't harbor animosity towards them, though I suppose sometimes people might think that women who can't get pregnant might start to feel bitter towards women who can't seem to keep from getting pregnant. Actually, I know that women who can't get pregnant sometimes do end up feeling bitter to women who do get pregnant. 

However, I am not bitter towards these girls. I'm really not. I am happy for them. 

I am also sad for myself. 

I am sad to be struggling with fertility. I am sad that my belly and my arms are both still empty. I am sad that I still feel some shame for the fact that I have been unable to get pregnant. 

Mostly, I am sad because I wasn't sad 48 hours ago. I had a tenuous hold on feeling okay, and now I feel like my tenuous hold is cracking, just a little. 

I want to have a family. I want to make Hubster a father. I want to be a mother. 

I want to be able to make these things happen. 

But I can't. 

I can only keep going, keep working on being healthy, keep trying...keep waiting. 

I want to make things happen so I can know what to expect and how to plan the future. I look around and it seems to me that so many people around me get to plan their futures. But I know that's not the truth. I know that none of us get to control the future.

I went to Laramie last week, and my Master's cohort has ambitions to take an overseas trip next summer to England and Italy to experience Shakespeare. And I thought (48 hours ago) that perhaps I could be okay with even not trying for a few months so I could go on that trip. 

But now that my calm has been rocked, I feel afraid. I feel afraid of never being able to get pregnant. Afraid of getting pregnant and not being able to go do something as cool going to England and Italy for Shakespeare. Afraid that I won't be able to handle all the things thrown my way. 

Today, I am sad. I'm going to get comfortable with the feeling for a day, roll it around in my heart, think about what it means, and then let it go and keep moving forward.