I've had some really intense discussions lately, with my husband, with friends, with reporters, online with people, and with my therapist.
I have a strong sense of justice. Injustice bothers me so intensely I literally cannot sleep. I have focused on generic injustices in the universe but I'm starting to focus on myself more. Like, maybe I deserve some justice too. Personally.
Pink is pink, green is green. Repeat it a billion times in a row, and pink will still not be green. Even if 'they' think it SHOULD be.
From my own birth through every reproductive event in my life, the world has told me how I SHOULD feel. No one ever ASKS me how I feel, or why I feel this way, or believes me if I don't give them the answer they like.
Okay, many of YOU ask and care, but some people in my world IRL, don't. Some blogreaders don't.
So as far as being an adoptee, infertility, miscarriage, stillbirth, momming, working, grieving, and just plain old living:
Don't tell me how to feel.
Don't tell my feelings are "wrong" because it doesn't fit your predefined world view. Just accept that I have a right to any damn feelings I want.
Don't dismiss me, minimize my feelings, or pretend I'm stupid. Don't 'label' me depressed because I'm not 'over it' in the precise timeframe you want me to be. I may never feel 'over it.' My actions may be wrong, my beliefs and theology may be messed up, my words may be inappropriately phrased.
But my feelings are never wrong, they just are what they are.
I may never get the justice I want, and I have to figure out how to sit with that. If none of the people who have hurt me ever apologizes to me or explains what happened, I may feel shitty forever.
I am sad my babies are dead.
I am sad I was adopted.
I am sad I was adopted by the people I got stuck with.
I am sad my ovaries are in organ failure.
I am sad I may never get pregnant or stay pregnant again.
I am sad the world thinks these issues are no big deal.
I am also strangely enough, still a happy productive accomplished person and a good mother. It is possible to go through life and carry some sadness and still be happy to exist. It's just heavier baggage to carry.
Even if you, World, don't think this juxtaposition of my feelings SHOULD exist.
Damned impudent nervy woman that I am...
P.S. I feel like the last week has been a marathon every day. And pressing publish feels like an emotional release. The good kind.