Step after step

Hey folks, it's time for yeat another weekly post that no one asked for. Which is a first step in trying to get some consistency and get a healthy habit for me. Plus, my alter ego (The Innkeeper) just updated Writefreely to the new version so...

I like to get my posts a title that isn't really connected to the main topic of the post itself and try to work into the post by creating a visual concept (or a metaphor), and this time won't be any different.

Let's start by thinking what a step is. No seriously, take a few minutes and imagine what's a step and what does it mean for you.

Is it just a mechanical way to get your body moving from point A to point B? Is it a oh-so-used metaphor with a profound meaning (like every change/travel/trail begins with a single step)? All of the above? Non of the above?

I don't hold the truth (pfft, imagine if I were, what an effed world we'd be living in...) but a step for me is just a single inseparable fragment of space and time combined together. You can't take the same step again in a different moment, you can't have two different steps at the same time (well, unless you'd be jumping but bear with me and count that as a single step for the sake of this post). And every step carries your weight, may it be heavy because you're carrying a lot over your shoulders, may it be light because you're not, thus taking us in having three different concepts melded into one: space, time, happiness.

Effin' cool, isn't it? It's a neat concept holding together the past (all the steps you took – aka the footprints –, how were you feeling), the present (the direction you're going, how are you) and the future (all the steps you'll take, how you will be).

If my calculations are correct, you're just looking at this phrase thinking > “Jeez Alex, just start writing about hiking and how is good for you, me, everyone”. No, I won't, but hey, baby steps, we'll get there eventually. Today will be about something completely different, today I want to share something that I've talked about with only a few (not even my family).

A step forward

If you had the chance to read Waves, tossing you up and down – and if you hadn't, no worries, you know that I'm currently dealing with depression (aka the not-so-big-D). I didn't use the “battling” because honestly, it's not that bad.

Two pair of heavy footprints in the sand

One of the main reason that caused this condition lies in something happened a few years ago, when me and my wife lost a chance to be parents by a spontaneous abortion. There's no one to blame, it just happened. Back at the time we were just out from a complicated period, during which we simply couldn't have kids, first we were too young, we were too broke, then we were in the middle of moving, then my mother in law had cancer. And when we finally could, we tried and tried to no avail.

Needless to say, it felt like a warming ray of sun before it quickly disappeared behind the cloud, forever.

It was hard at first, very hard. But then it got harder with the years passing by, mostly due to the social stigma; sometimes – most of the time to be honest – people judges you by the fact that you're a parent and not how a good of a parent you are and being without a child is synonym of something going on in the couple (cheating, fighting) plus being treated as an inferior being from couples with child.

It's scar tissue that you don't want anyone seeing, but it's there, and it reminds you that you won't be whole again, never again.

Another step forward

After an year of trying and bleeding our hearts out, we decided to give medically assisted procreation (MAP for short) a chance; fortunately is almost paid in fully in the country where we live by public sanity.

Two pairs of heavy footprints in the mud

I'm not gonna lie, it was an horrible experience, due to the nurses and doctors working in that department, treating us like cows to the slaughter, mostly because they get their annual budget over the number of babies conceived instead of people treated. If you have to work with couples not able to conceive, you should get your soft gloves on and be tactful is what I'm thinking, but apparently it's a wrong concept in that department.

Nevertheless, we tried and seemed like everything was working out, but after a few weeks, it just happened again and we felt back like when we were in the sand, but this time with even heavier footprints, like we were walking in the mud.

A step forward, again

Half an year passed from that moment, bearing less grievance than the first time, but definitely not helping us with a lighter heart. Then we finally decided to give MAP a go again, which involved a lot of medical exams, lots of tests, a lot of paperwork and once again, dealing with the tactless company of the MAP department of our city. But even if it was hard, we knew we would have cherished the result, like nothing else before.

Two pairs of heavy footprints in fresh concrete and a tire

I don't believe in fate as in “it's everything already decided”, it's pure bullshit. I believe in coincidences, I believe in being the change I want to see in the world and I don't believe in anyone upon my head maneuvering me like a puppet.

But, the day my wife was ran over by a runaway car, in a supermarket parking lot, I almost started believing in fate. I'm keeping this short and maybe I'll write about this in a future post, but long story short, she got away with only a broken foot (whew), but due to the medication and the physical rehabilitation, we had to suspend the MAP treatment, again.

Where we rested for a while, before taking a step

I think I'm going to take a brief pause here, because remembering all of what happened during the last few years is taking quite a toll on my mental health and well being. Exactly what we did when my wife finally got through her physical rehabilitation, we took a break doing treatments and thinking about another pair of baby footprints nearby ours.

Like I wrote before, it's scar tissue. And sometimes, most of the times to be honest, it itches, it hurts, and your mind has always a thought fixed on that itch, on that permanent pain, where the skin once were whole and now there's a scar. And the stigma, oh the social stigma, won't allow us to talk about this with anyone, may be family, may be friends, only a selected few. Not so long ago, a member of my family subtly suggested me to find another woman and start a life anew. This is the exact level of the stigma I was writing about.

I didn't answer to that provocation, mostly because I know that those words were born from ignorance. They don't know that we didn't grow sour over the years and the failures, we're not afraid of talking about the specific topic or meeting with other couples with child or just looking at parents playing with their kids. We're not envious, we're just hurting. We share a pain that deep that made our marriage even stronger, a pain that many of us, fortunately, don't know, but often can't/won't understand.

And if you continue scratching a scar, that will surely start bleeding again. And here we are, with lots of scars, so much – metaphoric, although sometimes not so much – blood spilled. I (and I'm using the first person because I don't want to share too much about my wife's personal stuff) decided to see a therapist to help me catch some breath and deal with the burden I was carrying on my shoulder, making my steps heavier and heavier, and I must admit, that helped me a lot. A lot.

Where the steps will lead, a mountainous trail

I don't know what the future will hold, neither I have the presumption of knowing it, but I'm quite sure of the path we decided to walk again: the MAP, but this time, with a twist, meaning we decided to contact a private center outside our city and an affiliated private center, outside our country, due to our country' strict laws about fecundation outside the mother's body with an egg donor.

Again, I will probably post about this in the future, but for now let's wrap this up and if you had the courage to read the whole post, have a musical treat. Because even if your steps get heavier, you can't afford to not move forward.

#MedicallyAssistedProcreation #Child

The journey into the adult life is basically moving on uncharted areas of the map. And there, there be dragons.

Alex