Monday, May 10, 2010

the Robin

My honey and I moved into the house we are in on January 2. I desperately wanted to buy a house following the failure of our fertility treatments. I couldn't get my mind off it. I couldn't have a kid, well then, I at least wanted a house. I recognize it was with a sense of (desperate) grasping that I wanted a house. Then, it didn't seem possible, so I put it out of my mind, so-to-speak, until we had enough money to even consider it. A week later, we got wind that this couple we knew through friends were moving to Australia and wanted to rent their house. It took less than a week, and we had decided to come and live here.

It is nice to experience the house in Spring. There are lovely flowers that previous dwellers planted coming up all around the front and backyards. In the front of the house, there is also a porch with ceiling. On one of the ceiling posts, there is a robin that made a nest and she has been sitting on her eggs valiantly. On Friday, I felt truly angry at her, poor mama bird. What does there need to be a bird at my front door reminding me EVERY DAY of what my body cannot do and what I cannot have. Not enough that so many women around me are pregnant, that babies are being born to friends or colleagues weekly? Not enough that it's mother's day and that makes me sad? A mother bird had to come and sit on her eggs in my face!

Thankfully, that phase passed. I'm not angry anymore, as Ani would say. Today, I saw the baby robins for the first time. Two little heads with wide eyes, keeping watch for their mom. It's a miracle that they made it through the very cold and windy weather we had over the weekend. But there they are; healthy and happy. It's a miracle, and I can choose to see it or I can choose to be angry at it.

I guess that's a choice in a much larger sense. Do we let experiences close our hearts or do we allow our hearts to stay open despite the anguish of a broken heart. It feels like a hard waged battle in my case not to let my heart close up. I just know that if I do, I won't really be living anymore.


  1. I found your blog through Megan's blog and wanted to reach out to you to let you know that I'm so terribly sorry about your struggles.

    I've been sitting at work reading your entries with teary eyes and my heart is bleeding for you ... I hope you can find some way to be at peace with this totally unfair situation.

    As an infertile, I wonder every day if I will be faced with having to cope with a life without biological children ... or any children at all and it scares the shit out of me. I can't say that I know what you are going through right now but please know that I'm thinking of you and wishing for a brighter tomorrow for you.

  2. Lisa,
    Thank you so much for your comment. I have been neglecting my blog, a little bit like I've been neglecting myself. It's been been difficult since October. I have been in the dark, but I know that won't last forever.

    I feel so encouraged that you commented and that you have read my entries. I was just singing on to write a bit today. It makes me think that I need to keep writing because it's a great way to feel part of a community.

    I wish so much that you can be granted the joy of having your biological children.

    warm thoughts your way, Lisa.

  3. Hi there -
    I've started reading your blog from the beginning and am working my way through slowly.I love your owl art, by the way. Aren't owls some sort of fertility symbol? Or do I have that all wroong? Well, they're your fertility symbol at any rate ...

    I haven't reached the end of your blog so am not sure yet where you are in your journey, but I did want to chime in on this post because I had similar expereinces this past Spring with all the baby birds and and baby bugs.

    There was a dirt dauber I thought was a wasp which was flying around my porch swing, buzzing in my ear in a very angry way. I decided it had to have babies near by and looked for a nest. It was a mud hive built behind the swing and I'm afraid I got a bit of a God complex and destroyed the nest and all the baby dirt daubers inside. I knew it was a little malicious, but because I had just lost my 3rd pregnancy, I was feeling very fatalistic and unsympathetic about new life - human or not. "Sometimes we have to lose babies" I silently told the mama dirt dauber. So yeah - the birds and the bees bothered me as well.

    I'll be reading ....