Sunday, November 16, 2008

Cross-Pollination: Dreams

A guest blog entry, bought to you by the Great Blog Cross-Pollination! Ok, this was supposed to happen on November 9th, but my first attempt at cross-pollinating didn't work out so well. Let's just say I'm a late bloomer, which I'm still hoping to be the case IRL!! Let me not hog the stage any longer...

I am thinking about dreams today. Specifically, I'm thinking about the things that we all expect, the ways in which we expect our lives will proceed.

I think you know what I am talking about. We expect that we will have a great job, a stable home, perhaps marriage (didn't you play to be a bride, with a tea towel for a veil?)

I am thinking of a friend of mine, who for whatever reason, has not gotten married. And I am thinking of the friend I saw tonight, who got married, but late in life, and her children, they are step children, almost completely grown.

When we talk about infertility, we talk about the pain of missed dreams. We talk about how we expected our lives to be, and how they actually are, and the pain, well, the pain is in the difference. When we look at, hold up in our minds, and turn it about, and what we expected for our lives, the ways in which we thought our lives would proceed, it is different than things really are.

We talk about infertility being isolating, and it is. We talk about it being a deep seated pain, and it is. But it does not seem that it should be that way. You see, dreams, I am learning, they are universal things. And the ways in which life takes our dreams away from us, it seems that this is universal too. Why is it that we can't see past the dreams that we have, the dreams that are not fulfilled, the dreams that we don't see come true, to the dreams of others? Why is it that when a dream dies, it is so isolating? I can, on some level, comprehend. The struggle with deep emotional pain is that it does not admit others - the long lasting, unfathomable pain we are in, it does not allow us to see past it.

But if it did, I wonder if infertiles could lead the charge in supporting others as their dreams were crushed, and the world did not answer their dreams? I wonder if this community, who is so supportive, this community that has brought solace and succor to my soul, could lead the way in helping others cope.

I wonder if we could find the words to say that we understand the fall out when dreams don't come true, we understand hoping and longing and weeping and sorrow, and while your dream might not have been mine, the pain and the sadness at not having your dreams come true, I can speak that language, and I will abide with you, as we wait for that place where all our dreams come true?

Now it's your turn to try to guess our guest blogger's identity in the comments (no cheating).

You can read my cross-pollination post here.

4 comments:

Geohde said...

A great post. Clearly the best cross pollination was saved for last! I have updated my list, too,

xx

J

Anonymous said...

ooops. I ended up cheating without realizing it.

Very thoughtful post. Good food for thought. I often think of my mom's dream dying -- her not being able to finish her PhD because my dad walked out on her with 3 kids and a newborn.

That dream was forever dashed when her prof. died just a few years later.

But she just changed avenues and 30years later became a fellow at a major university doing important (bee) research. Unfortunately it all happened after her mom died -- and she had always wanted to make her mom proud of her and knew she would have been impressed with this accomplishment...

but with infertility I think it's harder to just say, "well, instead of kids i'll become a famous author or researcher..." or is it we just have to learn to be happy with the amazing dreams we have fulfilled (great hubby, nice home, decent job, good friends....)??

Phoebe said...

My mom had half the kids she dreamed of having, six, but I think still, it did not bring her happiness. She was not able to fulfill her dream of getting a PhD and having a meaningful career. As the youngest of the six, I decided to have a career first, and that has been very satisfying to me. Yet the dream of having children does pick at me like a wound that will not heal. I often wonder, is that all it really is, a dream? Will it really bring me happiness, especially considering my history?

Kami said...

Well said. I have wondered if holding hands in public with my husband is to the lonely the way rubbing a pg belly would be to the infertile. I avoid the latter just in case, but I don't avoid the former.