Blocked

I'm drinking a fat glass of this wine.

I'm having it so why not drink it? Dive deeper into the experience, as they say, become the block. Staring at a blank monitor isn't working nor is harsh self-talk, putting my nose to the grindstone, ignoring it completely, or running in tight circles. I'm blocked and that's that.

Could be I'm simply sad. Sad sad sad that I'm not having another baby. My husband, though game for childREN when we first married, changed his mind soon after Fluffy was born. I've been trying to change it back ever since. I've spent the last six years debating, arguing, cajoling, performing, understanding, waiting, plotting, fantasizing. I even wondered allowed to my sister--Is it WRONG to get hormone injections at the Infertility Clinic without your husband's consent? Is it honest and truly immoral to give him the blow job of his life, race to the bathroom, spit back into a sterlized olive jar and then dash off in the car on a just remembered errand? ie off for a quick insemination? a sort of drive through jiffy lube?

The husband is firm. No more kids. No more IVF cycles. No adoption. No foster care. No lap dogs in tiny bows and sequined jackets. No frightening dolls. No.

I've had my hands full the last six years. It's true. I haven't had an enormous amount of time to devote to another entire human being. Lord knows I'm barely keeping up with my own needs. I've tried to use that as salve enough. Who am I kidding, right? What with the writing and the remediating the autism and the plucking of facial hairs, I mean that alone is like a full time job.

But it hasn't worked. As much as I've worked it through intellectually, I've hung on to the hope that somehow, SOMEHOW, it would happen. I'd get pregnant. Some fluke, like those menapausal grandmothers that burst with one last beautiful blossom in their fifties; a change of heart--my husband would hand me a card and lo and behold, a handmade certificate would gently helicopter down to the floor by my feet, the words: This Coupon Redeemable For One Last IVF Attempt gleaming, lifting my chest by its heavy hands and gliding it through the scented air; a sweep of largesse from the gods and one day I'd sip my coffee, blanch at the taste, the smell, and stagger to the sidewalk to retch in front of the family of five, the mother and I locking eyes and smiles, Congratulations! she'd say with her knowing eyes; or perhaps a shift of possibility, a bolt of lightening in our front yard, our infantile japanese maple split impossibly, neatly in two at the moment that my husband drops his glasses and THEY crack, and then he lifts them to his face and shakes his head no, no, this doesn't fit, this can't be right, where are all the children? the children that should be slamming our front door screen on this summer day as they run in and out and in and out, breathless with reports of fireflies or some injustice?

But no. None of it happened. And in less than three months I will be 48.

My motherhood has been blocked.

Motherblock.

Writer's block.

No more creating for me.

I know. I'm too dramatic. I'll come out of it. But for now, I lay barren. I look out the rim of my eyeballs and I see flat, dry lands, my halved heart framing the landscape.

I'm sad.

I'm thirsty.

Cheers.

Comments

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[ed hardy]

What with the writing and the remediating the autism and the plucking of facial hairs, I mean that alone is like a full time job.

[Ian Parker]

Wow, I was hoping that you'd post again soon, but I’m saddened by your sadness. I can also sympathize, in that I too would like another child (I always wanted two or three) but recognize that this is not going to happen (sigh). In this I also feel sorry for the Bear, in that ultimately she may one day be without close relatives. I hope that she will create her own family and network of friends, and find love and support from them.

I do have to agree with the no lap dogs in tiny bows and sequined jackets and frightening dolls decisions though.

One thing to consider instead is sponsoring a child abroad. There is more than one way to nurture a life, and there is certainly enough need. Just a thought.

I'm more of a beer guy, but I will raise a glass to you.

[kate]

Oh, this made me sad. I wish I could transport myself and have a glass of wine with you. I'm thinking about you.

[Ted]

I don't supposed it's much consolation -- similar comments made to me during similarly desolate loneliness have done little to perk my joie de vivreness -- but you HAVE been creating.

For quite some time, you've been creating an online woman -- a public persona, certainly, but one that is clearly born of and borne in you....and she's inspired and educated and amused and given me tenacity and focus and humility and dedication.

Kyra, I know I don't "know" you, but I know you, and I'm thrilled and honored to have found you....your words, your soul, your intense clarity and goodness, have created more wonderful things, I'm sure, than you could ever guess.

Small (or nonexistent) though this consolation may be, it's pure truth.

[Lori at Spinning Yellow]

Oh Kyra - I am crying again. I feel for you and will drink a glass (or two) for you also.

[Kristen]

I'm so sorry Kyra.

Drink lots of wine, friend. Drink it up.

[Vicki Forman]

I'm sharing a glass too.
xo

[a mommy]

Oh, do I know that hurt. I am sorry that you are sad. I hope that it will pass soon, and that you will find just the right outlet for your abundance of love and care. Fluffy is a wonderful addition to the world - you do good work.

If I were to get pregnant now, I'd have a lot of explaining to do (snip snip). But that doesn't stop me from fantasizing sometimes.

[mothersvox]

Oh dear Kyra, another big cyber hug to you, and listening for the clinking of glasses to the bittersweet work of mourning that we all do in our lives, as our dreams are weeded out, one by one, by the hoes and rakes of chance and circumstance. I am sending you huge hugs and raising a glass of Saratoga water tonight (only because my doc told me to skip drinking wine until my vitamin B12 deficiency is resolved!)

[KC'sMommy]

Hugs to you Kyra. I want another child as well. I have K.C., he's my only child, I have Big Brother I have taken care of since he was a newborn (adopted him) but lately I have wanted to have another child (a little girl maybe?) The boys daddy won't budge at all. He's done he says. Kinda ticks me off because I want another baby!

[jennifergg]

The heart wants what the heart wants, and there's no talking it out of it. It is so very hard to let go.

I wish I could help with the writer's block. Maybe? Email me if there are any little writing games we could play, or if there is something I can do/say/write/share to inspire you? You have given inspiration to me on so many occassions.

On a selfish note, I'm very happy to hear from you again.

And I am truly sorry it's under sad circumstances.

Let me know if you need anything, and in the meantime I will light a magic candle for you...

[Mamroo]

I kind of thought that you have been missing for a while because you have been sad And knowing this makes me sad. I am very sorry. {{{HUG}}}

[kristina]

Wine in a long-stemmed glass (red my preference) and a big big hug with Fluffy.

[Harvest Mom]

Oh, Kyra, I'm right there with you, babe! Even though I've got two, I badly badly badly want more. The Map Man says no way and won't budge (and I've tried every convincing tactic, even offering to have my tubes tied at the time of the next delivery despite the fact I'd really like about 4 more, at least 2). He doesn't even use Autism or infertility (which thank heaven and earth I never had a problem with) -- he just "doesn't want to". Isn't that a cruel thing? They can just not want to and we're at their mercy.

At some point I had to make a choice of whether I cared more about my marraige or having another child. The marraige (and The Map Man) won out, and I've somewhat come to peace with my decision, because at least THAT felt like MY decision (to stay with him and not have any more kids as opposed to leaving him and possibly finding someone to raise a larger family with). Prior to coming to that point, I was left feeling both barren AND powerless. A lethal combination.

But to say I'm at peace with the decision doesn't mean I'm not sad about it, and that I don't yearn for another baby every day. It's a little piece of mourning, for a child that was never even conceived, that I'll carry with me the rest of my life. But the alternatives (life without The Map Man as an integral part of it, or life WITH him but having conceived without his knowledge/consent -- and trust me, I went through all the possible scenarios, then chose not to pursue any of them -- another choice) seemed worse than the sadness. So I've come to accept the sadness as a part of my-life-from-now-on.

Of course, none of that keeps me from hoping for an "accident", or a miracle.

[mom-nos]

Oh, my friend. My heart hurts.

I would like to be with you, to pour you another glass, to sit with you while you sip.

[autism_twins]

I'm sorry you're sad -- sending you a cyber {hug}. You have been missed.

[March Day]

Kyra, I'm so, so sorry. Sending hugs your way.....

[gretchen]

I'm sorry Kyra. Really sorry.

[Zoely]

you're expressing your grief very eloquently. Big love to you.