Monthly Archives: November 2013

Our Journey to Parenthood…

I stand in front of the mirror and look at my reflection, turning this way and that, imagining a soft swell in my belly.   I gently press my hand there and move it in small circles, willing our baby into existence.  Rubbing and wishing, like one would for a genie in a lamp.  Could it have happened this month?   Have we conceived?  I think I feel more tired than usual, and I felt dizzy this week, and the nose bleed earlier…they must be signs.  I chart my temperature, pee on a stick, and swallow half a dozen prenatal tablets.  This is how every morning begins.

I have held off for a while on writing about this topic – our journey to parenthood.  I am nervous to.  There seems to be enough pressure on a couple trying to conceive without letting the whole world know about it.  However, after nearly two years, most of our worlds do know about it.  So, I feel ok with sharing my emotions, that it will be therapeutic, and if it helps or resonates with someone going through the same thing, then all the better for it.

At first, it is exciting, fun – making the momentous decision to bring another being into the world, then going about making that happen.  You think of the child-filled lives stretched out before you – the baby’s sweet smile, their laughter, their first steps – of holding onto your spouse, as you look into their awed, loved-filled face, which mirrors yours.  You imagine the books you will read your child, the skills you will teach, the lessons you will guide them through.  You and your spouse try with abandon.  You laugh in excitement as you imagine the sperm making its way towards the egg, cheering it on.  Each month you fill with anticipation.  You cannot wait for this to be a part of your lives.

After time it becomes harder.  The anticipation becomes uncertainty, worry, pressure.  Disappointment sinks in.  Why isn’t this working?  Is there something wrong with me?  Or with my spouse?  You do not want to find anything wrong with either of you.  That would be hard – one or the other could feel guilty or to blame.  Although you tell yourselves if that did happen, it would not matter – you are in this together, you are a team.  They run tests.  You have numbers and terms assigned to you – excellent, good, normal/average, or the dreaded terms fair or poor.  You feel labelled and categorized. None of our results appeared abnormal, low, or reduced.  It was a relief, but seemed almost as hard as finding something wrong.  We had nothing specific to work with or fix.

That led me to thinking – is it psychological rather than physical?  Are we too stressed?  Do we need to relax more?  There it is, that key term R-E-L-A-X, which everyone tells you to do.  It is easier said than done.  I cannot help but to gather as much information as possible.  I read copious books, I search endless blogs, we see chiropractors, acupuncturists, massage therapists.  We take herbs and vitamins, I stay warm, we get more sleep, drink less caffeine and alcohol, eat more fruits and vegetables, good fats, and less sugar.  The more time it takes, the more willing you are to try anything.  I think, I analyze, I stress.  I try not to stress!  I relax, I do yoga, and I work out – but not too much.  I decide to skip on strenuous workouts, even though the sun is shining and my bike is calling, and I would love to.  I read a book or take a walk instead, and assure myself that this is best for me and for making our baby.

Sometimes I go on that ride, but make it a gentle one.  Once, as I returned home, I saw a father and son side-by-side on their bikes, silhouetted against the sun.  The father’s hand on his son’s back, gently encouraging him along.  My heart ached.  It aches in happiness for them and their bond, but also aches for the child I want and the relationship we will have, and for more than my own needs, for wanting this so badly for my spouse too, that it hurts.

If it is not this father and son, I see others – mothers pushing their babies on the swings, singing to them; infants peering over their father’s shoulders at church, smiling at me; parents and children looking together at the brightly colored fruits in the grocery store; friends with their toddlers, or swollen bellies carrying their child.  Several friends who also had difficulty conceiving, have told me they felt jealousy towards others and the ‘why them and not me’ mindset.  I totally understand that.  I feel for them and their pain.  However, I have honestly never felt that feeling towards anyone else who has children.  The emotion has never entered my psyche.  I feel fortunate for that.  While there is pain at the hole in our lives we want filled, l have happiness and gladness in my heart for people with children.  I especially love to see my husband, parents, siblings, and in-laws interact with my nephews and nieces.  The smile on their faces and glow in their hearts is tangible.  Children are a gift.

I say ‘gift’, realizing parenting is not all easy.  I am under no illusion that rearing children will bring only joy.  I have not built it up to be something unrealistic.  I have spent time with children – as an aunt, a friend, a teacher.  I know there will be times of frustration, tiredness, and tediousness; there will disagreements, tantrums, and tears (from all parties involved)!  When people think about the freedom and flexibility before children and say lightheartedly to us “Enjoy it while you can!”  I wince.  We do appreciate it now, but we dearly want the next step.  (I was going to say we are ready for the next step, but I realize – are you ever truly ready for something you do not know?)  We may not be ready in all senses of the word, but we want it, we are excited for it, we are willing, we will try.  This gift, the whole package, the ups and the downs, the joy and the tears – we welcome it.  We expect this in parenthood (as with marriage too).  When you love someone and have them in your lives, you face emotions on all ends of the spectrum; you are in it for it all.

I anticipate the love for my children being different than that towards my spouse – not loving them more than him, but not in the same way.  Children are more vulnerable than adults are; they need us, especially as babies.  It inspires a different type of love, a protectiveness.  I hear most parents saying they would lay down their lives for their children – their own needs and indeed their very being, no longer coming first.  I believe many people would do the same for their spouse too.  It may be easier to claim such sacrifices for your child, your own flesh and blood, than it would for your spouse.  But, in wanting to be a selfless, loving, giving parent, it inspires me to want to be a better spouse as well.  Planning to give my all to our children, reminds me to do that for my spouse.  I know there will be hard times, and our marriage will be tested, but overall I hope it will enhance my love towards my spouse.

Over the last few years, I have shed very few tears over this.  I think most of the time I try to push my emotions deep inside and cover them up.  I know this is not healthy and I am getting better at talking about it.  I have some very dear family and friends who are great listeners, advisers, confidants.  Some who have been through this and some who have not -those who understand and those who try their best to understand.  All of them I appreciate greatly.  I have had one or two meltdowns.  I have stood in the bedrooms we have planned for our children, and cried, and cried, with my head in my hands, until I thought I could cry no more.  I have let a single tear slide down my cheek as my period begins, and another month goes by with no success.  I wipe it away with the back of my hand.  I hug my spouse, and we hope.  We hope, we pray, we love each other, and we carry on.  We know this journey is different for everyone.  As our journey unfolds, it is all we can do.  When it does happen, we cannot wait to meet you our sweet child…

Lydia

Faith, Hope, and Love.

Faith, Hope, and Love.

The gift of life.

My friend bearing the gift of life.

Father and son on their bikes.

Father and son silhouetted on their bikes.

With my sister and her sweet son.

With my sister and her sweet son. I love the joy he brings to all our lives.

My husband and nephew.

My husband and nephew.

My mum and nephew.

My mum and nephew.

My dad and nephew.

My dad and nephew.

My brother and nephew.

My brother and nephew.

My brother and nephew.

My brother and nephew.

Me with my adorable nephew.

Me with my adorable nephew. One day I hope my husband and I have a child of our own.

City Living

Busy, people, moving, purposeful, hustle, bustle, fast-paced, energy, rat race, concrete-jungle, green parks (an oasis), homelessness, innovation – these are some of the words I jotted in my journal when I spent time in a city I love, San Francisco, this summer.  Whilst in this vibrant, cosmopolitan city I experienced many sights, sounds, smells, and tastes, that got me thinking about city living.

During my twenties, I lived and worked in London – one of the most expensive, diverse, and populated cities in the world – and have certainly witnessed the pros and cons of city life.  I love so many things about cities: the energy, variety, architecture, people, culture, food, art. In the USA New York is the epitome of this for me.  Jay Z & Alicia Keys sing about it in their song Empire State of Mind.  The energy and lyrics in this song give me goose bumps.  As I sing the chorus aloud: “Concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there’s nothing you can’t do”, I relish in the optimism behind it.

When I visit my great ‘foodie’ friends in both New York and  San Francisco, I enjoy some of the benefits of cities.  They take my husband and I on culinary tours.  We visit their favorite delis, markets, restaurants, and cafes, and try some of the best cheese, meats, pastries, gelato, pizza, and sandwiches I have ever tasted.  I appreciate the variety and quality of unique food you can get in a city.  I do not feel stuffed after our tasty treats, because we walk from venue to venue.  Something else I love about city living – walking (a lot).

The sprawl of the suburbs makes walking between places hard to do.  While there are lots of walking opportunities in rural and suburban areas (on trails and paths, rather than sidewalks), it is a different type of walk.  Near my home, the open space, vistas, and quietness inspire me, but I do not get to pass the interesting people and places I would in a city.  In San Francisco, I saw schoolchildren crossing the streets linked together like a giant chain, cool sculptures gracing city plazas, unusual wares outside shops or on street stands, fashions, designs, colors, sounds, and smells – complete sensory stimulation.

I also love the innovation in cities.  We have several friends who are venture capitalists and it is exciting to hear the buzz behind new ideas, products, companies, and ways of doing things.  One such company I learned about this summer is TaskRabbit.  Originally founded in Boston, it is now in 17 major US cities (and growing). TaskRabbit is an online and mobile marketplace that connects neighbors to get things done.  Neighbors helping neighbors —an old school concept reimagined for today.  Another great idea is Local Mission Market, a unique grocery store experience with produce made on-site and fast digital check-outs, which according to Wired magazine is the next big thing.

I realize there are plenty of imaginative ideas and companies born from basements, workshops, garages, and even on chairlifts, in rural and suburban areas too, such as our very own Skullcandy in Park City.  However, it seems to me there are more opportunities for creative, forward-thinking, individuals to get together and ideas to come to life in cities.  I love the energy and excitement behind that.

Another thing that comes to mind when thinking about cities is the concentration of liberal thinkers.  There seem to be many more liberals in cities than in rural areas.  I believe this has to do with the diversity of culture, ethnicity, race, sexuality, and religion found in cities.  When people interact with those different to them, I feel they are much more likely to be open, accepting, and understanding of them.  Where this is lacking in rural areas I feel we need to make an effort to encourage positive responses and behavior, through education ourselves about others, and having an open mind and heart.

Despite the trend to be more liberal and accepting of others in cities, something I wonder about is segregation (often self-imposed).  As I drove through Chinatown in San Francisco, and admired the colorful signs and storefronts, I thought about like-people congregating together in communities.  There are districts in all major cities commonly known by the type of people, shops, and restaurants in the community.  I do not necessarily consider this as being a good or bad thing; it just makes me think.

Does segregating mean you are less likely to embrace people or lifestyles in other communities?  Does it make other people feel alienated or excluded?  Do like-people come together through familiarity, safety, comfort?  I, for one, live in a country different to that in which I was born.  I find I am drawn to people I meet from my original country (perhaps due to a shared background, culture, sense of humor, etc.).  However, I am not sure I would want to live in an enclave made up entirely of these people.  I enjoy diversity, and feel there is so much to learn and gain from others, especially those different to ourselves.

Something else that causes a reaction in me when visiting cities is homeless people.  Homelessness is prevalent in London and San Francisco, and exists in the nearest urban area to me, Salt Lake City.  However, in the suburban area I live in I have never seen a homeless person.  My locale sometimes appears to me to exist in a vacuum.  It is not diverse or representative of much of the rest of the world.  Visiting a city reminds me of the world beyond my own and how other people live.  It opens my eyes.

I passed numerous homeless people on the streets of San Francisco.  At first, I would look away, out of embarrassment and not wanting to stare.  How do local people react?  Do they just become used to it, immune?  Looking away did not feel right.  This situation is real.  This is life for these people.  I knew there were stories behind each face, under each blanket, in each outstretched hand or paper cup.  Ed Sheeran’s haunting song “The A Team” has had me thinking about homelessness and people on the streets (read the story behind his song here).  His lyrics and video helped to remind me of this reality, and humanize it.  Like all of us, these people have hopes, fears, and dreams, and are someone’s son or daughter.  People’s lives can take a turn.

Next time I came across a homeless person, instead of turning my gaze, I decided to meet their eyes and smile.  One sign I saw even read, “I appreciate anything, even a smile.”  I loved that.  (Check out the video of these kids bringing smiles to homeless people).  Jay Z continues in his song “Eight million stories out there and they’re naked. Cities is a pity, half of y’all won’t make it.”  The sad truth is that people will struggle, but we can help love, support, encourage, and respect each other along the way.

Lydia

Some of my photos from trips to cities:

The London Eye

The London Eye

London's Big Ben

London’s Big Ben

New York

New York

New York Taxis

New York Taxis

Chrysler Building

Chrysler Building

Delicious treats from San Francisco’s Local Mission Eatery

Delicious treats from San Francisco’s Local Mission Eatery

Local Mission Eatery

Delights from Knead Patisserie

Delights from Knead Patisserie

San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge

San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge

San Francisco - Oakland Bay Bridge

San Francisco – Oakland Bay Bridge

Downtown San Francisco

Downtown San Francisco