Side Thirteen: Mobility

It's been a tumultuous fall. Hell, it's been a tumultuous year. I will be glad to kiss 2011 goodbye and move forward with hope for a change. Husband and I moved home to Nova Scotia is spring to be closer to family and to settle there for good. We made our plans, saved our money and plotted every detail. The one detail we failed to plot was the abysmal job market. We are both educated and experienced, but we could not find work to save our souls. In fact, one employer told me, while telling me I was passed over for a job, that my experience is "good but not good enough for Halifax." I have my theories as to why the job market seemed so insular, but Husband and I were done with Nova Scotia. Almost six months after arriving, we left again, this time for Victoria, BC. I was in the running for a few jobs, and we figured it was a safe gamble. While on the way there, I interviewed for a great job in Ottawa, and shortly after pitching up in Victoria, I was offered that job. So we packed up and moved to Ottawa. Have I mentioned how we moved? We packed our Hyundai Accent hatchback and drove across the country... three times.

So yeah, this has been a shiteous year.

We're settled now in Ottawa. My job is fantastic, and we found a lovely apartment in downtown Ottawa. Our car is unpacked and our atlas is tucked away. As Husband and I reflect on the past year, we're thankful for each other, and try to take lessons from what we endured. One of those lessons is: "Thank god it was just us!"

The road less travelled. Except by the Author.
Photo courtesy fo freedigitalphotos.com

You see, if a child was in our lives, we would have never done what we did. True, that might be a good thing, but our experience has taught us a lot. If we had a child, we would have never takent he chance and tried to live in Nova Scotia. We would have stayed in Edmonton where, quite frankly, we weren't that happy. If we had a child, we would have never taken the gamble and go to Victoria. We would have remained at my parent's house until some crappy job turned up, most likely one not in our fields. We had to go to Victoria, to be in a city that held a lot of good memories for us. We got that out of our system. If we had a child, we would never have taken the leap and move to a brand new city, in a highrise downtown. We've been able to take chances, make mistakes and make good moves, all without worrying about a child in tow. Now, we're settled, happy and picking up where we left off.

Being barren has allowed us to take giant risks and try something different, fall on our faces and find redemption again. Those life lessons are a huge upside to barrenness.

Side Seven: Bathroom Privacy

Although my life is child-free for the most part, I have had a recent run-in with my nephew that makes me glad my husband and I are barren. I was in the bathroom, pulling my pants back up when the door swung open. There was G, asking what I was doing, all innocent-faced and cute. I squealed, shoved him out of the doorway and slammed the door. My privacy, my precious privacy was violated.

As my Sister wiped G's eyes - he cried when I shoved him, more out of shock than hurt, I'm sure. I am not an ogre - she said that was nothing. Then she regaled me with tale after horrific tale of privacy lost.

It's oh so quiet. Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.com

The time G was doubled over laughing when he saw his father naked. Having a little person wave your poo good-bye for you. E's fascination with what my Sister is wiping. G laughing and saying "I see your bum crack" as she steps out of the shower. Having two little people calling for you while you're showering. Sister says the children even knock at the door when she's trying to do a bit of business in private. That would drive me nuts.

Bathroom time is sacred time to me. It's a place to do your thang all alone, with you and your thoughts and your scented soaps. I can shut the door to my bathroom and do what I need to do in peace. Being able to do your bathroom business without laughter, pointing or nagging is a very bright - and quiet - side of barrenness.

Side Six: Spontaneous Trips

It was a dull Monday afternoon and the skies threatened rain. Husband looked over the table at me and asked me to go see Captain America. It was about a quarter to noon and the movie started at 12:30 pm. We saw that showing and it was a wonderful movie. 

One evening, Husband and I just finished dinner and I suggested we go for a walk to get ice cream. We left the house right then and there. 

One morning, as I got out of the shower, Husband asked if I wanted to go for a walk on the waterfront. I got dressed and we headed out.

NOT the author and Husband frolicking on the beach. Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.com

The upside of barrenness is that Husband and I can walk out of the house whenever we want to do whatever we want without the logistical planning reserved for NASA. My sister came for a visit this winter, and although Edmonton in the winter is the pits, she was giddy. She was on a trip without G or E, and she was most excited to be able to leave the house with just her purse. Sometimes on our walks, we just bring house keys. No bags, no diapers or bottles, no strollers… just us. Cheesing it on a moment’s notice is a very bright upside to barrenness.

Side Three: Uncensored Swearing

I fell in the shower today. I slipped, ripped the shower curtain down, brought the rod crashing on my head. Husband found me on all fours, naked, soaped up and swearing like a longshoreman. I was furious, and hurt, and the only thing that could come out of my mouth was “Damn you m************ s*** a** shower curtain. F*** this …” and so on and so on.  In a situation like that, a curse is in order. Now, if G or E or Goodtimes were over and within earshot, I would have gotten in trouble for swearing in front of little ears, or I would have stroked out trying not to swear out loud as I gingerly got up off my knees.

Not author, but she understands the sentiment shown here. Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.com

 Which brings me to another upside of barrenness… swearing – out loud, at someone, at something, out of frustration, out of anger, with glee, with excitement, or just be-f***ing-cause. I have a bit of a potty mouth, and although I try very hard to keep my sour tongue to myself around the kiddly-winks, sometimes something happens where a good goddamn will work better than any other word. I curb my colourful language around little ears, lest E’s first word rhyme with muck.

The Upside of Barren-ness

My husband and I got some news this spring. I hesitate to classify the news as devastating or sad, but it was certainly life-changing. We cannot have children.

While we were planning our wedding and our lives together, children were always a part of the equation. We knew we would like to have a couple in the coming years. Just not right then. So I went on birth control and we went about our way getting married, getting settled, moving and so on. 

The day after my 34^th birthday, Husband and I were lounging about and the topic of babies came up. We consulted the calendar, looked at our life plans, evaluated our finances and came to the conclusion that it would be the right time to try for a family. A month passed. Then three months, then six and then at nine months, I went to my doctor. I was concerned since I would be 35 soon and all the literature I read said that fertility decreases at 35 and, with panic in my voice, asked him to send us for testing.

I did my routine tests – the blood, the urine, the ultrasounds. Husband did his part, too. Nothing is more surreal than squealing through the streets while your husband cradles a warm cup of his sperm. We walked his sample into the fertility clinic and were met with a sea of couples with the same look on their faces. The women looked scared but hopeful. The men made little eye contact. The air was heavy with anticipation. We left our sample and waited for the results.

The tests came back, and our doctor said there looked like there were some anomalies, but refused to elaborate. He referred us to a fertility specialist. We waited for that appointment, but it was at least a six month wait. The health system in Alberta is atrocious. After we were added to that long list, I saw my doctor again, to see if he could shed any light on why my uterus remained empty. He said that the chances of us conceiving were slim to nil.   

Husband and I were sad, to say the least. We had hoped for a child and this news – this slim to nil news – came as a blow. In the backs of our minds, we always suspected that we might never have a baby, but now it was confirmed. No baby for us.

We considered adoption or in-vitro. In-vitro was soon eliminated as a choice. I hate needles and neither one of us were prepared to shell out thousands of dollars for a chance at a child. As we talked over the choices for us, we came to a realization.

Maybe we are not meant to be parents. Maybe we are meant to be a really good aunt and uncle to the children already in our lives. Maybe we are destined to be the childless couple. Husband and I tossed this reality around for a while and realized that this is what is meant to be. Whatever sadness we felt at the idea of no baby quickly evaporated and we felt liberated.

My sister has two children – G, 3, a boy and E, 1.5, a girl. My brother has one son – Goodtimes, aged 1.5. We talk a lot and I listen to their tales. With every stain of poop, with every exhausted yawn, with every utterance of the phrase “what about the kids?” I thank my lucky stars for the life that Husband and I have. And I take notes for this blog.

This blog is for all the childless couples out there. Sure, being barren can suck, but there is an upside. Let’s explore the upside together. Leave a comment, leave your own experience, leave your insight. Let’s celebrate the Upside to Barren-ness!