Vulnerability, Connection and Fresh Air

So… I am trying this new thing… and I type that with trepidation … like … it’s still in the early stages…

I’m actually trying to reach out, with my vulnerability and authenticity (to people in general) but with one actual person in mind.

I need a new name for her… Not sure in the name department… but the fact that the above doesn’t sit right, is perhaps enough evidence of movement!

So I had a *not fun* and a *totally unhelpful* experience at the doctors regarding baby making. And my first reaction is to catastrophise [psychological term roughly meaning to go through worse case scenarios]. Eww I just googled it, and it said something about framing experiences as worse than they are. Side note: but how do you know that they are worse than they are? Maybe they are that catastrophic?! (nope, no disposition to catastrophising at all: sarcasm).

So I think this is what I do. I actually think that it is healthy to some degree. [Not a therapist. Haven’t asked a therapist. Don’t quote me on that!] During epic anxiety of younger days and not so younger days – it really helped me keep a hold on reality. How bad is it that I miss the bus? My school bag breaks whilst I walk to the train station, I get mugged, might get some time off school for injuries, I will get in trouble but that’s not a life or death thing. … Reading that back, it doesn’t sound that normal. Oops!!

But what I mean to say is that it has helped me keep a level of perspective on things. ALSO I have found that catastophising (if that is in fact what I do), helps bring up the emotions and feels and fears etc about what ever it is, and then I can just move through them.

Obviously it is not helpful if I become overwhelmed and it develops into a panic attack / depressive episode… and that happens a decent proportion of the time.

Maybe I just struggle with emotions??

Maybe I actually feel the emotions, rather than suppress them – and that is where the dissonance is: between “normality” of not feeling, and me, for feeling.

Maybe I am pretty much a demi god, but I digress! ( 😉 )

So after some intense internal mush I called one sister. It was really helpful talking and just exasperating at the intensity of it. But it didn’t feel finished. I asked my husband to call me when he could… but he wasn’t replying. So I called my other sister. (Formerly known as bitchface).

Previously babies and feelings and emotions and life really, were all off limits.

Since the loss of Baby, and then reiterated again with the Christmas stuff, I have really bunkered down the hatches.

Person (I really need a new name!) and I are super uber different. We believe in different things, do different things, like different things… etc etc etc… BUT we were both trying for babies around the same time. Tragically, both lost babies within a few days of each other [she didn’t tell me that until I included it in conversation today, I already knew].

Our different ways of dealing with our own grief and our different world views have just divided us. And I bunker down the hatches when it comes to big feelings. Also, to be fair, she doesn’t knock on said bunkers.

But today I reached out to her.

It came after I told her last week that I had had surgery for baby-stuff. (I was adamant that she wasn’t to know. My brother still doesn’t know) So somewhere in the ether something was already happening behind the scenes.

I texted her. She texted back and invited me to call. I called.
13 minutes 12 seconds.

I told her everything. What the surgery was called, what it was for, what the prognosis was. What the doctor had said today. Where I was at, with feelings and emotions and such.

She totally got it. She had just been to a fertility clinic. She has her own fertility concerns. She gets this shitty, heartbreaking and breathtaking cluster-fuck that is Trying-To-Conceive. And she gets how much it sucks.

It’s funny how I am so suspicious of handing out information, and then am offended that she doesn’t hand out info either… it’s like we both needed that connection first, before we could admit or explore some of our (similar) vulnerabilities. Shock horror. (Sarcasm).

And it feels nice. To connect. With authenticy. And vulnerability.

Super scary still.

But nice.

Really nice.

It feels like a breath of fresh air.


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