A Case of the Mother’s Days

9 May

I felt drawn here tonight despite not having been here in over 5 years. It feels safe. No one comes here anymore, myself included. I feel comforted in the knowledge that this place shares the same cobwebs that my writing does–maybe we can shake them off together. Forgive me. 

I’m sitting here staring at the blinking cursor not even knowing where to begin. My heart is heavy with so many things. I guess I can start by explaining that sometimes I feel really, really sad. I sincerely wish I had a better word for it, but nothing explains it better. Sadness overwhelms every part of my life. I’ve been sleeping until noon, not working (or at least phoning it in), and today I took a shower for the first time in four days. And honestly, the only reason I took that shower is because I don’t have the energy or desire to do laundry and my sheets are starting to smell bad. I’d be mortified if anyone saw me in this state and at the same time, I couldn’t give a fuck. I also haven’t seen another human being in just as many days. The only thing greater than my sadness is my loneliness. I’m prone to these types of moods, always have been. Probably always will be. But I wake up every god damned day and give it everything I have to give. Even if that just means getting out from under the covers. Sometimes that is the kind of victory I have to celebrate myself for. 

But other times, there are things going on that are larger than me that account for why I am feeling as low as I am. It could be as simple as the hormone surges and deficits from a period that is mere days away. Other times it’s an impending car drive that I’m anticipating. There are also, of course, the things that are so painstakingly obvious…loneliness, hopelessness, negative self talk, drinking too much, isolating myself, judging myself, envy, anger…the list could go on and on. 

But (at least for tonight) I think I have it pinpointed. 

Mother’s Day. 

There was a time in my life when that path felt so clear. Hell, it’s what this entire blog what founded upon. I would have given anything to achieve that goal. And in some ways, I did give everything: my time, my body, my mental health, my marriage. 

Every year since we terminated that pregnancy, this day doesn’t get easier as one would expect that it would. Instead, I’m sitting here picturing the box I buried in the backyard at the dead of midnight. The box that contains sonograms, the sperm vial, and every other concrete memory I tried desperately to forget. Then I remember that the box is buried in the backyard of a house I don’t even own anymore.  A house that is filled with 3 small children, a husband, and a wife. A house that I purchased with that very same dream in mind. Yet, the only mark I made on that house is a box buried in the backyard full of death, sadness, and so much regret. And I hate that I suffer alone in that memory. An old friend of mine used to send me flowers every mother’s day and what would have been that baby’s due date. How she remembered every year, I can’t explain. But she did. But like people do, we’ve move on and what was once flowers is now a facebook message. Don’t get me wrong! I LOVE her for this and I thank her for this; it just reminds me that time marches on and the scars on our hearts don’t last as long in other people’s memories. 

This Mother’s Day all I really want is to lay around and feel sorry for myself. Torturing myself seems like a fitting punishment. But instead, I will put on a smile, show up to the family day, and pretend like everything is absolutely perfect. And that’s tough for me because I also have the side of me that if another woman in my place asked for advice I’d tell her to show up and give ’em hell. Feel your feels, girl! But for some reason I can’t extend that kindness to myself. So I’ll drink too much wine and wait until I get home that night. alone, and soak my pillow with my tears. 

God, it all sounds so fucking dramatic when I read it back. But, trust me, that’s exactly how it will go. Just like every other year. Then I will wake up on Monday thankful that I have 364 days until I have to do it all over again. 

And this. I can’t believe I am even saying this, but here it is. I’d make a deal with the devil to never bare my own children if it meant that I would never feel depressed ever again. 

I guess, all that to say RIP Baby Ford. He/She would have been almost 6 years old and I’ll never forget the brief, but intense hold you had on me. And so clearly always will. 


My New Home?

5 Dec

It’s not much yet, but it’s a start. http://www.awomanlikethat.wordpress.com

This Isn’t My Place Anymore

27 Nov

It’s been just shy of two years since I’ve written here. I’m sure no one is lingering in these dusty halls any longer. And yet, I find myself back here, longing for a place that once felt like home.

There will be no Future Fords. This name is a lie.

The divorce is imminent. I haven’t even tried getting pregnant since the ectopic pregnancy and subsequent termination. Even this keyboard feels foreign as I type. A laptop used pretty much as a conveyance to type my thoughts here, the keys feel clunky and spaced awkwardly. There’s been a lot of deleting and re-typing.

On this, this day of Thanksgiving, I am finding it hard to be thankful. I can’t be thankful that most days are spent dragging myself out of bed. That my first thought every morning is still, ‘when will I get my baby?’ My last thought when I fall asleep is much the same. I can’t be thankful that I am caught up in this terrible cycle, knowing where I’ve been and what it will likely take to get back there again. The only thing worse than trying, is not trying and knowing what trying again means.

I’ve seen the dark side and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from that. I’m not sure there is any dragging another man down into the trenches with me. I’m not sure there is any hope left in this broken body of mine, this broken mind of mine.

But it’s what I want.

It’s what I’m willing to go down for.

It’s what keeps gets me out of bed despite feelings to the contrary.

It’s what makes me know I’m ready to try again it whatever form that may take.

And it’s what lets me know I’m ready to start writing about it once more.


Protected: I’ve patched together the bare bones of my new, anonymous blog. A different corner of the internet for me to makemy new home. Feel free to email me for the password to this post (unless you are legally married to me), which contains the link to my new blog. Thanks and I hope to see you there!

24 Jan

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Miss Me Yet?

22 Jan

I hope you all can forgive my absence. I’ve just been at a total loss as to what to write about. This space of mine no longer seems to fit me. Or rather, I don’t seem to fit it anymore. I’m obviously no longer trying to get pregnant. And the title itself, “The Future Fords,” no longer defines my life. Chances are that the only Future Ford that will walk this Earth is yours truly. I am struggling with how to turn this one time infertility blog into a blog that encompasses this whole new person that has been left in its wake.

And what of these friendships that we’ve forged? I mean, you guys know more intimate details of my life than most people care to even imagine. But what do I have to offer you if not tales of woe and misfortune of the fertility challenged?

I could regale you with stories of my separation. I could tell you what I ate for breakfast. I could even share the details of my dating life. But all that seems to pale in comparison to drama was my life TTC. Hell, I don’t even know when my last period started because single, non-procreating women like me have no need for such unpleasant details.

Maybe I will start a new blog. An anonymous blog. A place where I can write freely about my life without fear of judgement from (ex?) husbands, would-be-friends, or nosy neighbors. And while I am busy divulging my secrets in that new corner of the internet, I will let this place sit and collect cobwebs-much like my reproductive organs will be doing. Then one day, I can pick it back up, dust it off, and find you all right where I left you. Only, you’ll all be caught in the bliss of motherhood while I, once again, play catch-up.

I suppose there are worse things than suspending time.

I imagine myself pushing pause, not only here on my blog, but also on the part of me that wants nothing more than to be a mother. And for the next 6 months, 1 year, 5 years–however long it takes–the other underdeveloped parts of me will get a chance to shine.

World traveler Jenn. 

Boy crazy Jenn.

Best friend Jenn.

Dessert baking, picture taking, clothes making, risk taking Jenn.

Will you join me on my new adventure?

2013: The Year of Possibility

5 Jan

Well, ladies and (at least) one gentleman, 2013 has arrived at last. Never in the history of me have I wanted a year to be over more than I wanted to watch 2012 go down in flames. I don’t think I am alone in this sentiment. Everywhere I look it seems people are saying good riddance to the suckage that was 2012 and eagerly anticipating the promise that 2013 holds. I would be a fool to deny the probability of terrible things happening in this new year, but from where I am standing, it couldn’t possibly be worse that the year that just ended. Wood! Wood! Must find wood to knock on!

I lost the use of my foot for a few months. I lost my baby. I lost my husband. I hope I’m not the only one that senses the recurring theme. Loss. 2012 was a year of profound losses. Losses that I will never totally recover from; losses that have changed who I am fundamentally as a woman. As a human. And yet, this vantage point where I currently stand allows me to see that in great loss comes great perspective. In the face of loss, one only has to wait for hope to set in. It’s a natural cycle that each and every one of us knows by heart.

Tonight I find myself reflecting on the past year, but eagerly anticipating the year that lies ahead and the possibility that it contains.

I may have lost, but I am not lost. In fact, as each day passes I accept the idea that this year will the exact opposite of losing. This year will be about growth, gaining, and giggling. And I am keeping my heart open to all the endless possibilities that lie before me.

2013 is going to be a good year. It simply has to be.

Now to answer your questions from a previous post, as promised….

So what is your new job? Are you doing what you went to school for? And tell us about college please!

Since February, I have been working for a solar company. It’s a pretty small place so we all wear a lot of different hats. Mostly I am responsible for helping my clients with getting their grants and tax credits from the federal, state, and local governments. My recent promotion involves doing the entire financing aspect. It is not even close to what I went to school for. I have an English Literature degree–also knows as the most worthless degree known to man. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVED studying literature in college, it just didn’t really help me once I graduated.

College was pretty boring for me….I didn’t go until I was about 23 so all the other students were younger than me and all my friends had already graduated. I commuted to school so I basically went to campus, did what I had to do, and got the hell out of there.

Now that you and your husband are split, are you at all grateful that kids didn’t work out for you two?

I am totally split on this question.

On one hand, I am so glad that we aren’t dragging a child into this mess. It would only make things so much more complicated for everyone involved.

On the other hand, since I know that infertility was a huge factor in our split, I can’t help but wonder if we had a child if things would be different for us. Then there is the whole I’m getting old thing…would having a baby on my own and through a separation be better than having no baby at all? The selfish side of me wants to say yes, but the logical side of me knows the right answer.

How are your feelings towards your husband? Are you full of animosity and frustration…b/c you have come across so strong and patient and kind…if it were me, I feel like I would want to hurt him! When is he moving out and what are his next steps? Has he resigned yet and where does he plan on getting all this money to travel the world? In the past several years you have been married, has he ever talked about the open marriage thing, or now looking back can you see where this all started?

Ok…that’s a lot to cover. I’ll see if I can manage 🙂

My feelings toward my husband are complicated. That’s the short answer. We still get along pretty well as long as we aren’t talking about us or our future. He is still one of my best friends. I love him for who he is, but I hate him for what he is doing to our family. I want to hug him to show him my love, but I also want to hit him to show him my anger. I am beyond frustrated, but I can’t say that I harbor any animosity. When you know someone as well as I know him, then it’s easy to see where their motivations lie and I know that he isn’t doing this to hurt me. But just like I had to put myself first sometimes in the past, now he has to put himself first. I can’t talk him out of this and I can’t change his mind. All I can do is let him know where I stand. Make him aware of the risk he is taking by making this decision. At least this is how I feel today. If you ask me tomorrow then you might get a completely different answer.

He is in the process of moving out. He has always been such a procrastinator and I can imagine that it’s hard walking away from the comforts of your home. But, this is the decision that he has made and in order to offer my support, I am bringing home boxes from work and “encouraging” him to get the hell out just as fast as he can. He’ll be staying with his brother until I can find a roommate to share our house with me. Once I have a roommate then he will be looking for his own teeny, tiny apartment. We split the money up in a way that made sense for us and once we are separated, I have no say in how he spends his money. I assume he will just save as much as he can as fast as he can in order to travel the world.

Open marriage has come up in the past but never as a possibility for us. A couple that is close friends of ours have an open relationship and we have spent much time discussing that idea but not in a way that applied to our own marriage. At least not from my perspective. Who knows what he was thinking?

I would like to hear more about this date. 

I’ve decided to not write about my dating life on my blog. I really hate to censor myself in that way, but I feel I need to for my own protection. Things are quite amicable between my husband and I, currently. I would really like for it to stay that way. If we do end up getting back together then I don’t want him to have access to everything I did while he was gone. And if we don’t get back together then I don’t want my words being used against me. I have to protect myself legally, you know?

But if you really want to know, email me for the details 😉

Now back to my 2013 “resolution”…..I’m writing a book! I have always wanted to do it and I think now is the perfect time. I suppose it’s going to be memoir-ish. Oddly enough, I’ve had enough shit happen to me in my 29 years to actually fill an entire book. However, the focus is going to be my infertility and collapse of my marriage–all the choices I made and that were made for me that led me to this point. I’m hoping that by the time I finish, I will have a happy ending to add.

And then, Lifetime can buy the movie rights. Because if the last year of my life doesn’t read like a Lifetime Movie of the Week then I don’t know what does.

Happy New Year, Ladies!

Love. Love. Love





Happy Holidays

24 Dec

It’s Christmas Eve and I miss my baby.

When I first found out that I was pregnant one of the first things that I did was sign up for pregnancy updates from BabyCenter. I still get those updates every week and for some reason I can’t bring myself to unsubscribe. Today I would be 11 weeks pregnant, but instead I’m sitting here, utterly alone, on Christmas Eve. I know that I am only torturing myself. I know it’s cruel that I continue to subject myself to these weekly reminders of what was and what will never be, but I can’t stop. I can’t forget. I can’t move on.

Today should be a happy day. My husband and  I should be opening our one present tonight. We have a tradition is which we buy an ornament every year that somehow captures something big that happened over the previous year. We always open that ornament together on Christmas Eve. This year it would have been an ornament to celebrate my finally being pregnant. But instead, both my uterus and my bed are empty. I am separated, childless, and feeling so very alone.

I know that the holidays are a difficult time for us infertiles. I’m now just learning that the holidays are also a difficult time for us single ladies, as well. And when the two are combined? Well, the word difficult doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling. Impossible, maybe. But then I don’t have the option of impossible. Tomorrow I have to get up and do it all over again. I have to find a way to make it possible to live my life regardless of what my current circumstances are.

I know that I am strong. I know that I deserve to be happy. I know that I will get through this. But for tonight, I am choosing to embrace my sadness because while, I know that I deserve to be happy, I also know that I deserve to be sad. I refuse to harbor any guilt over the fact that tears fall from my eyes every time I stop and think about my predicament. I refuse to make excuses for my anger because I damn well should be angry. One day I will be happy. One day this pregnancy will be but a distant memory. One day I will move on from my marriage. However, today is not that day. Today I am sad, bitter, and angry. And that is exactly where I want to be. I am giving myself permission to not apologize for my feelings.

Merry Christmas Ladies. And I mean that so sincerely. I hope you all find a reason to smile and a way to embrace your own sadness because I am here to tell you that it is okay to feel that way.

Love. Love. Love.