This week is Staff Open Classroom Week, an initiative encouraging staff members of the college to attend a class session on campus in an effort to disrupt the silos we (staff) can get stuck in and to help us engage more fully in the educational mission of the college.
I signed up for Media 250: Mediating Gender & Sexuality and the topic for this week was “representing women.” We discussed the ideologies most commonly associated with femininity in our society, the double bind, and policing of women (for female identifying individuals). The conversation was all too timely for me... [Heads up: lady issues & possible TMI to follow.]
I am a woman, the bread winner of my otherwise hetero-normative relationship, ambitiously working on my master’s degree, and currently planning my wedding. FWIW, I am also currently trying to slim down for my wedding, which is a whole other femininity issue, but w/e. All of this all at once.
But I am also currently undergoing hormone therapy for fertility issues that are already presenting. Sunday/Monday I had tapered off the hormone and was supposed to begin my cycle. (I haven’t had a natural cycle in ten years). After cramping for a week and a half during the treatment, I was enthusiastically looking forward to greeting Aunt Flo. But as the day progressed and the discussion of performative femininity played in a loop in my thoughts, the absence was deafening: was motherhood totally out of the cards for me?
I’d been passively mulling over the motherhood debate for a while now, thinking that it would ultimately be a choice, not a fixed circumstance. Yeah, I was kinda looking forward to the opportunity, while knowing my history may throw a wrench in my parenting plans, but I still always assumed I’d miraculously be fertile when I needed to be...
Then I thought about my fiance. A man who was anti-marriage and anti-fatherhood for years until the night we met (and both realized we’d eventually be getting married. true story). He had opened his heart to fatherhood. To seeing a human manifestation of our unity and love. He was also aware of my medical history and fertility concerns and so incredibly loving about it. But what if I really couldn’t give him our child? What if I couldn’t give myself our child?
I’m already a very career-driven and ambitious woman completely by accident, but if I really was infertile, without thousands of dollars spent on additional treatments to become a mother, what kind of woman would I be? That it very likely isn’t a choice I get to make for myself after all tears me up that much more.
Yes, I recognize that I am legitimately coming off of a hormone therapy, so my emotions are completely unregulated and I could be worrying unnecessarily, but it still hurts me to my core right now and nothing -not even a pint of Ben 7 Jerry’s- is really helping dull that pain... or the cramping that has persisted for nearly two weeks without a payoff.
I called my doctor’s office this afternoon to let them know that the treatment didn’t work. I have no idea what her next steps for me will look like. And I have no idea when these cramps will subside or when I’ll get my energy/motivation back. But I do know that I appreciate you reading this and allowing me to vent.
My body is kinda out of whack right now. Maybe more than usual, but then again it's kinda hard to say either way. Yay hormone therapy.
Anywhooo. I have too much piled on my plate and have gained weight that needs to come off (both aesthetically and for my health), but I haven't had the time to dedicate often enough to exercise and cooking.
I feel like I'm spinning my wheels right now and perhaps I am. The weight lost over the last couple of months was actually kind of a fluke thing and unsustainable. Oh, also, I'm probably insulin resistant and should totally reset my diet (which would help w/ the weight loss obv) but again, I hardly have the time to buy groceries, much less meal prep and the delivery plans I've looked at are out of budget.
Wedding planning is officially happening! This week, I found my dress and shoes! I have my entire “look” figured out and can finally, slowly, start planning. The first piece has fallen into place. I’ve also started a (mild) workout regimen so my off-the-rack dress will fit me perfectly... in 14 months.
funny story: when trying on dresses, it might’ve been the first or second dress I put on (which was all wrong for me, but I wanted to rule out styles), the shopgirl plopped a veil on my head (again, all wrong for me) and I nearly blacked out. It was completely overwhelming. It felt so wrong, but in a ‘living someone else’s life’ sort of way, not a ‘why am I getting married’ way. I almost started crying right there on the platform. Disorienting is probably the best way to describe it. Like, yeah, I was just playing dress-up and had no commitment to buy the dress or veil, but the way weddings are packaged tend to be “best version of you” messaging and I honestly didn’t recognize myself in the mirror in that moment. For what it’s worth, my dress is honestly the polar opposite of, well, actually, 99% of the other dresses I tried on that day. And it really does feel like “me” as a dress, which I honestly never expected I’d experience. It’s difficult to understand the power of (seriously) trying on wedding dresses without having done so, but it was a bizarrely emotional experience.
next up: the guest list, which has been giving me anxiety basically since the beginning and has been the no.1 reason I hadn’t started planning prior to happening upon my dress (sheer luck). Eventually. I still have 3 group projects and a research project to finish up in the next 4 weeks, which (very) sadly take priority right now.
My grandmother shared this metaphor with my mother and me last year and it's so acutely accurate: The tugboat can't pull this ship if the tugboat itself has a leak. Meaning? You can't support the ones around you (or do your job, etc.) if you can't take care of yourself first.
I am currently on day 11 of a 13-day work week. Yes, I've worked 11 days straight in the office. Yes, it is seriously running me down. I've also been eating breakfast & lunch in the office in an effort to be even more productive. And yesterday I was completely burnt out.
Today I am a new woman. I took some time for myself this morning and it honestly made all the difference. I've been getting up early with the fella (his office opens an hour before mine) and going in to work when he does. Today I opted to sit on the Starbucks patio with my coffee, pastry, and journal for a full 30 minutes. I meditated on how high-strung I've been lately. I wrote down everything I was consumed with and everything I was distracting myself from. I took my time. And when I finally got to the office, I could feel that coffee buzz that I somehow missed despite my daily mochas and/or americanos. And those daunting tasks I had been consumed with and simultaneously avoiding? Psh. With my fresh perspective, I was honestly ready to tackle them in an entirely new context.
Yeah, that sounds all butterflies and rainbows, but if you had seen me any time in the last week, you'd know this optimism is a far departure from the defeatist attitude I'd been rocking. It's because I took time for myself. No rush. No pressure. Just ease.
