I spent the better part
of my day sitting with a friend in the Clinic, first at her doc's
appointment and then at her Pre-Op appointment. These were both in
preparation for her surgery that's scheduled this coming Friday.
I don't see this friend often, but she is extremely dear to my heart. She's been there for me through my crazy growth and development, and has given me a sounding board to think through decisions of life and love. I really appreciate her patience as we worked together to sift through my insanity to find nuggets of truth in order to move forward with a better sense of self-determination and awareness.
She's been struggling with Endometriosis for approximately 10 years, but in the last 3 months or so, managing its symptoms has been almost impossible. Hence the surgery on Friday. It's the next step to finding out answers on how she can move forward with the life she wants to live.
She wants children.
This condition will not make it easy for her.
She's been waiting for Mr. Right.
Her heart longs for the romance, the wedding, the marriage, the new family, the happy household...
But time is ticking...
Her window to produce a healthy child and carry it to term is closing...even faster now with the ever-worsening developments of her condition in the last few months.
After we made it through the appointments (she had me sit-in with her on both of them for moral support), we talked through the last 6 to 8 months of life, which was a bit fuzzy for the both of us since we hadn't done a very good job keeping in touch. It was good to catch up. I've missed her.
I could also tell the conversation was precursory; there was something more pressing on her mind.
"What's it like being a single mom?"
I knew this was coming. She had already mentioned it a couple of times: how waiting for the right guy to share a family with didn't seem like a viable option anymore, how at least she could move forward with an important piece of that dream - if she did it now - and start a family of her own.
I didn't blame her for thinking that way. Not under her circumstances, for sure. But I really wouldn't wish single motherhood on anyone, especially my friends. Mothering is hard in a committed relationship where you have backup, never mind when you're alone.
I told her that if she was really, truly thinking about it that she needed to explore mommy-baby support groups within her local community.
I told her:
This isn't something you can (or should) do completely alone. You're going to need to have other people in your life to share the highs and lows with. And believe you me, you've no idea what highs and lows will come with motherhood until you are one. If you think you've seen dark days, just wait until you have a kid. You don't understand the meaning of dark until you're stretched beyond logic and reason to be bigger, a more selfless person than ever. But you've also never seen the sun, not until you've looked into your kid's face.
I want her to have a support group, even if that means she moves back to her home place to be close to her parents. I told her there was no point in being too worried about job loyalty when having a kid was going to challenge all loyalties within her heart for further examination.
Having kids makes you reevaluate everything.
And some things stay the same, but oh-so-many more things change.
Including yourself.
It helps to have someone outside of yourself be a witness to the change, a sounding board for the growing pains, a shoulder to cry on...
I don't doubt for an instant that she's strong enough to go it alone.
But, even strong people need support from time to time.
I don't see this friend often, but she is extremely dear to my heart. She's been there for me through my crazy growth and development, and has given me a sounding board to think through decisions of life and love. I really appreciate her patience as we worked together to sift through my insanity to find nuggets of truth in order to move forward with a better sense of self-determination and awareness.
She's been struggling with Endometriosis for approximately 10 years, but in the last 3 months or so, managing its symptoms has been almost impossible. Hence the surgery on Friday. It's the next step to finding out answers on how she can move forward with the life she wants to live.
She wants children.
This condition will not make it easy for her.
She's been waiting for Mr. Right.
Her heart longs for the romance, the wedding, the marriage, the new family, the happy household...
But time is ticking...
Her window to produce a healthy child and carry it to term is closing...even faster now with the ever-worsening developments of her condition in the last few months.
After we made it through the appointments (she had me sit-in with her on both of them for moral support), we talked through the last 6 to 8 months of life, which was a bit fuzzy for the both of us since we hadn't done a very good job keeping in touch. It was good to catch up. I've missed her.
I could also tell the conversation was precursory; there was something more pressing on her mind.
"What's it like being a single mom?"
I knew this was coming. She had already mentioned it a couple of times: how waiting for the right guy to share a family with didn't seem like a viable option anymore, how at least she could move forward with an important piece of that dream - if she did it now - and start a family of her own.
I didn't blame her for thinking that way. Not under her circumstances, for sure. But I really wouldn't wish single motherhood on anyone, especially my friends. Mothering is hard in a committed relationship where you have backup, never mind when you're alone.
I told her that if she was really, truly thinking about it that she needed to explore mommy-baby support groups within her local community.
I told her:
This isn't something you can (or should) do completely alone. You're going to need to have other people in your life to share the highs and lows with. And believe you me, you've no idea what highs and lows will come with motherhood until you are one. If you think you've seen dark days, just wait until you have a kid. You don't understand the meaning of dark until you're stretched beyond logic and reason to be bigger, a more selfless person than ever. But you've also never seen the sun, not until you've looked into your kid's face.
I want her to have a support group, even if that means she moves back to her home place to be close to her parents. I told her there was no point in being too worried about job loyalty when having a kid was going to challenge all loyalties within her heart for further examination.
Having kids makes you reevaluate everything.
And some things stay the same, but oh-so-many more things change.
Including yourself.
It helps to have someone outside of yourself be a witness to the change, a sounding board for the growing pains, a shoulder to cry on...
I don't doubt for an instant that she's strong enough to go it alone.
But, even strong people need support from time to time.
