It’s been quiet around the blog. November is always a hard month, lots of old grief dredged up & the start of the winter hibernation times. We’re still adjusting to the early dark, puttering around the house and working on tiny projects.
I’m looking forward to hanging boughs, filling the house with lovely green smelling things, twinkling lights. If I think back to last Christmas, I really, truly expected to have a baby by this Christmas. That’s one of the crazy things about this fertility journey – you look back at your expectations and feel stupid for thinking it would just happen, be easy – though even the doctors thought so too, so it’s not entirely my naïveté. I’ve since packed up the baby room as it’s become more than apparent that life is on hold and nothing is certain. In a way I’m starting to process the possibility of not having a little family, ever. I’m not quite ready to go there, but it’s lurking in my mind, like a monster under the bed.
When I went off to college a friend made me a tiny book of advice, and it all still rings true, 20 years later. One page said only you can’t be magic if there are no monsters, and I try to remember that when it feels like the monsters are eating me alive. Sometimes, especially in this online world of perfect Pinterest fantasy, we forget that our monsters are what make the magic parts of life sparkle and shine as brightly as they do. The monsters have been winning lately, but it helps to remember that it always is a balance, light and dark, grief and joy.