Awareness

This post has been particularly hard to write and I am not sure why. I have no problem talking about infertility in real life to people, but for whatever reason it is hard for me to sit and write all of the things I want to say.

Awareness isn't about making people feel badly or guilty that they can get pregnant easier than some. It is about educating people about infertility and to try to get them to realize how hurtful people can be, the pain that comes along with this disease, and how much goes in to the process. It's true that my journey pales in comparison to others, but I feel that I have been able to learn from my journey and can better support my friends who are still struggling. 

Support shouldn't be that hard. For whatever reason people feel like they can ask you about the state of your uterus and have it be ok. I don't know what it is about babies that make people think there are no boundaries. The generation before ours didn't discuss anything. So many things were taboo. I'm happy to be part of the generation that is changing that, even if it is for selfish reasons. 

In a way being open about our struggle has been a way to save myself from the questions and unsolicited advice everyone seems to have. Society gives you one year. One year from the day you say I do to the day that you announce being pregnant. You may get a three month grace period, but after that people are antsy. Then the comments start. The. The questions start. Then the anger and sadness start. 

People don't know how to respond when you say that you are struggling with infertility, and honestly, it is a hard subject to talk about when you don't know what it is like to go through it. The simple answer is you can say, "I am so sorry that you are going through this. I am here if you ever need to talk." It is nice to know that someone cares and wants to be there for you. Hugs are always welcome and a bit of understanding can go a long way. 

Coming Together

The events that occurred on Monday were horrific. Horrific isn't a strong enough word, but I don't know a strong enough word to use. They filled a community with fear, which I suppose was the intent. It takes a truly cowardly person or group to do what this person or people has done. It disgusts me to my very core and makes me afraid to live in a society where I have to fear walking down the street or attending a public event.

I mourn for the loss of life and for those who were injured. Many have lost their limbs not to mention the emotional damage done to the people who were first hand witnesses to this tragic event. Life was stolen because of an act of terrorism. We may not know who is responsible for this heinous act, but I have faith that the authorities will track them down. The anger and terror that filled me when I found out what was happening in my beloved city was more than I could process.

A quote on a building in New York said the following: "Darkness can not drive out darkness, only light can do that." Whoever said that is right. Boston will not get through this by being angry and allowing hate to take over. Boston has not done that. The phrase "Boston Strong" has been going around. It is true. There is a strength in this community unlike any I have ever heard about. We are a bunch of sarcastic pricks that can band together and support each other the moment after we just called someone an asshole. We are one huge dysfunctional family, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Tonight we are a community starting to heal. I had a hard time making a decision of whether or not I wanted to go in to town and go to the Bruins game. I felt afraid, which didn't sit right with me. I have never been afraid of my city. After much deliberation, I decided that me not going to the game would do nothing except give the power to the person or people responsible. When I realized that I knew there was no way I would not be attending that game.

Walking in to the Garden tonight was a bit eerie with all of the security. I was unsure what was going to happen before the game, but I knew I was in for an emotional night. As the crowds filled the stands and the lights dimmed two support ribbons were displayed on the ice with the words "Boston Strong" on them. After a moment of silence a video was displayed to pay tribute to those we lost and those who were injured and to thank those people who in a moment of panic stayed to help instead of running to safety. Tears streamed down my face as I watched footage of a cowardice act and the aftermath of a community banding together to help the wounded.

What happened next is something I have a hard time putting to words. It was time for the National Anthem the black carpet was rolled out and Rene Rancourt was followed by the Honor Guard for the first responders. As Rene started to sing the beloved song of our country, something amazing happened. The crowd joined in. Not just a few, but the whole arena will with 17,500+ people. As we sung out the words written years before any of us existed they brought a new meaning. My eyes filled with tears once more as I sang out loud and proud the lyrics that represent my country.

I have cried several times in that building. Sometimes it is because of a needed win, sometimes it is because of a devastating loss, and sometimes it is even because of a strong sense of frustration. Tonight's tears were different. At first they were tears shed over lives lost and even some of those tears were selfish tears representing the fear that was inside of me, then those tears changed. I went in to town tonight filled with terror, but in that moment when I sang the Anthem with my community I felt safe for the first time since Monday. Not because I felt there was no longer a threat, but because in that moment I felt the strength of my community. 

Tonight wasn't about a game being played, nor was it about who won or lost because years from now the stats won't matter. Tonight was about a community removing their cloak of fear, showing their strength, and banding together. Tonight was about proving that we are as tough as we always knew we were and, although, we are forever changed and will never forget, we have chosen to move forward together supporting one another and building ourselves back up. The fear is still present, but it is no longer paralyzing.
  
"Darkness can not drive out darkness, only light can do that."

Tragedy

Most of you know about the horrors that occurred yesterday in Boston. At this point in time I honestly can not process the information enough to get understandable sentences down on a page. Boston needs prayers and more specifically the innocent victims need prayers.

An Interesting Observation

It is no surprise to anyone that knows me that I am very pro-equality. As far as I am concerned religious views have no place in government. Also, I feel like government should have no say in the bedroom. And to those of you who say, "oh, but marriage is a religious sacrament and you can't force a religion to change its beliefs" last I checked, my marriage license was issued by the state government. I didn't have to send a letter (or my money) to Rome and say, please Mr. Pope let me get married. So, there is that.

Anyways, before I start to ramble anymore, I am obviously talking about marriage equality today. Why today? Well, I saw something so irritating at work today when I was going about my normal people watching, and it just sent me in to a fury!

Watching people get off a train and reunite with people is possibly one of the best things anyone could hope to get stuck watching as a job. You get to see pure emotion in people when they are reunited with their loved ones again. Or sometimes and entire lack of emotion.

Today there was a man waiting with the cutest set of twin girls I have ever seen. They were probably around 2 or 3. They were so excited to be inside of a train station and they kept very closely to the man, who I assumed was their father and was proven right when one of the girls called him "daddy." They waited anticipation killing them to get to see who ever it was that they were waiting for. The train came in, unloaded, and left. As the passengers walked down the hallway a blonde man approached the girls and squatted down to be embraced by these little girls. They ran up to him and he hugged them and picked both of them up and covered their cheeks in kisses as the girls giggled filled with a pure and completely innocent joy. The man then walked up to the other one gave him a kiss on the cheek and the four of them walked out together happy.

Within a few minutes of that family leaving a mother walked towards the main exit where her husband and child were waiting. Her daughter ran up to her and hugged her leg as the mother patted her head but continues the ever so important phone call she was on. She then pointed to the exit so her husband and daughter would follow her out to the car. I'm not saying I know this family and how they truly are, it just paints an interesting picture.


Which is the better situation? Is raising a child in a same-sex household worse than raising a child in a "conventional" household? In my opinion it comes down to the parents. But my issue is why should heterosexual people get to raise children without question because they can. If you have to go through adoption or surrogacy to get a child what is so wrong with that? Love is love, no matter who it comes from.