I wish one day....

I could say "I didn't even know I was pregnant".

Just the same as those who say "oh look its dinner time, I completely forgot to eat lunch". The truth is infertility is not something you can ever forget. Its like moss on a river stone. It just lies there, slowly covering you so that you are no longer able to distinguish which parts are rock and which parts are moss. Over a long enough time it becomes such an ingrained part of you that you forget who you used to be before it consumed you. 

Its not the easiest thing to explain to those who have never experienced the hold it can have you. Perhaps you can just set it aside they say. Just relax, it will happen. You're stressed. Just have your mind think about something else. Imagine for a moment you tied an elastic band to your wrist. Sometimes its really tight and you can barely feel your hand and some days it's so loose you think its about to fall off! It never does. Its just there, every single moment of every single day. Thats how it feels. You can never shake it off. You can never control how its going to make you feel on the day. It just does as it does when it does it. Some days it makes you so happy knowing its there, you're filled with incredible hope and dreams that maybe today is the day. And sometimes it fills you with such dread and sadness because you know today is not that day. You become one with that elastic band and soon its part of your skin. You see it there in the dark, you feel it there even under water. It is you and you are it.

At some point you have to be that big girl that doesn't cry. The one who says "Fairy tales don't always have a happy ending. And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay"...  Well I don't want to be that big girl. I want to cry. I do not want to go gentle into that good night. I want to rage. Rage against the dying of the light. My head will be bloody, but unbowed. And my soul ... unconquerable. This will not beat me.

Instead, I will feast. Feast on all the joy, happiness, love and light that life has to offer. Some days the weight of infertility is crushing and some days it makes me stronger than I ever thought I would need to be. And in the end when you add up all the days.... they are all good anyway. Even the bad ones. 

Because what could be better than being alive and being happy.

Dear future self...

Dear future self, 

I wish you could write and let me know things are ok. Let me know that my dreams have materialized. I wish you could tell me not to worry. Just to let it be. But I wonder if the outcome would be the same if you did? Would I try less harder? Would I surrender easier?

No, better you stay quiet. Let me fight my fires without knowing the degree of burn. I've never been one to need to know the end before I've embarked on the journey. Being prepared for every eventuality is very different from knowing the exact eventuality. 

Which one would you choose? Knowing one, or trying them all. I choose all. Otherwise what would you do with the rest of your time?

Rage. Rage against the dying of the light.

What happened to my nerve??

As I've grown older I've slowly started to lose my nerve. I don't even know how it happened?? 

For the past few weeks I've been toying with the idea of an extra ear piercing. And every time I go to Canal Walk to do it, I find some ridiculous reason why I just cannot do it right now. My hair is too grey, I still have more weight to lose, I look too mommyish today. Its just crazy. I've had a nose piercing and a belly piercing already just for giggles. And now a little hole in my ear is scary. Suspending yourself with hooks off your back is scary! Free climbing is scary! Come on, a little old ear piercing can not be where I top out on the scary chart. 

Back in the day I would just dive head first into any situation I thought might be cool, interesting, fun but now I think I've become a party pooper stick in the mud kind of person! Oh my Ghad. The more I think about it the more I realise how true that is. When I turned 30 I almost skydived, I had it booked and everything. When I turned 40 I had to have a lay down at a lovely luxurious hotel! Where has my gung-ho crazy self gone to? I've gone and killed it.

This situation requires a serious remedy. I want to say I'm going to do it tomorrow… but then I think I already drove out there today. Seems so silly to drive all that way again. Might as well wait a few days. Build some courage. And there I did it again. Its like an invisible shield. Subconsciously activated. Its exactly like gym. I know I need to go. But I never pack a bag and I always drive to the mall first because … well a girl needs coffee.

At the end of March it will be 1 year since I stopped working. I haven't learnt any discernible skill, developed any artistic talent, or advanced myself in anyway that I could proudly wave a flag for. I've taken a gap year and promptly in the flow lost my nerve.  

How do you reawaken that part of yourself? I love who I am right now. Its taken me a while to get here. I'm accepting and forgiving and loving towards myself. Seems perhaps I've also become to comfortable in the lazy section of myself. I don't know if its just getting older and wiser that makes you realise you don't need that much excitement as you did before. I actually need very little since I get excited when there's a new episode of How to get away with Murder on catchup!

I guess its this stage of life when you relax, enjoy and saviour each moment. When you let life wash over you for a little bit. And when you're done you plunge in and start to swim again.

Super mom

No one can really prepare you for the perplexities of motherhood. When you become pregnant you are so caught up in the glow and wonderment that is your body. And the development of the little person inside you is all consuming. No matter what any other mothers tell you, you just know you will be different and you will try to do things better.

Let me tell you this, you wont. All mothers are in the exact same boat. We all have the same feelings, the same frustrations, the same goals, the same guilt. We make the same sacrifices and worry about the same things. It's the great equaliser for moms. From the moment that baby lands in your arms, your mind is filled with thoughts and questions and preparations for preparations. You have to feed, clothe, bathe, love, hug and devote all of yourself to this cute little kid. Each phase has new challenges. Have you played with them enough, have you taught them enough words, have you challenged them physically. Its a never ending marathon of hurdles to navigate. Just when you figure out how to do it well and have the routine running smoothly like a navy seal team, the bugger gets one year older and suddenly the game changes on the head.

You always feel like you're one step behind since the kid now dictates the play for the day and you dance around trying to maintain the order and rules that you wish them to learn. They learn it alright, as long as you keep pushing your agenda. Push too hard and they will push back, too soft and you will be disregarded like an empty, licked out kinder joy. Every day is different and always unpredictable. 

The thing that struck me the most is how quickly you can swing between being cheesed off about something they did, to feeling guilty for feeling cheesed off. From punishing them to feeling guilty about punishing them! I mean how the hell are you supposed to discipline and teach a kid things when you feel so bad for them. Those doe eyes teary and sad, promises of never doing it again, and apologies for the 10th time. You can forgive anything when you're faced with that. If the transgression is really bad you have to dig deep and go into crazy territory. Thats the only place the face of an angel can't reach you. Even then you have to turn away so they cannot see how funny you found what they just did. 

Yes indeed, the first kid is all about learning the rules and formulating the strategy for the next kid. I'm sure with number two you can see that kid coming from around the corner with his tricks. You get to be in charge and dictate the order of things. But alas, if what the other moms are saying is true… number two comes with an upgraded chip and suddenly whatever you learnt with number one is null and void. Might as well be starting from day one again! Only this time, they have an army and you're alone. Lol.

Yes that's what super moms do. We battle for sanity, appreciation, respect, love, order, discipline, success, achievement, progress. Only we don't fight this battle for ourselves. We fight it for our kids.

Soft underbelly of the beast

Thank you to everyone who has taken a moment to read what I have written and also to those who let me know that they enjoyed it. I really appreciate it. 

There's a certain vulnerability when you expose your thoughts and write them down in an open forum for anyone to read, critique, mock, scoff, whatever. And no matter how confident you might think you are, a simple comment is enough to strike you down at the knees.

Everyone has a soft spot, a weak spot somewhere that if touched upon will bring the person to break in sadness or rain upon you in fury. There are two types of people when it comes to vulnerability. You have the raw type who exposes themselves to you immediately and somehow manage to offload their baggage on you without a moments thought. You have just been used as a free therapist, you think you have helped them but instead they have helped themselves to you and your mind. I love those types. You just know that they are fat, stupid, fearful, broke, whatever within minutes of meeting them because they told you. In an instant you connect with them because they decided to show you their underbelly. 

On the other hand you have the ones who lock their weaknesses away. Even from themselves. They build a fortress around it. Protect it. Defend it from perceived exploitation. Perhaps they are embarrassed or ashamed. Perhaps they feel others won't understand unless they are exactly the same kind of person. I have met a few people like that. You never really get to know them. Just the parts they allow you access to. Heaven forbid you try to pry your way into a restricted level. No free therapy. No thank you.

Who knows what results in the creation of either of those types of people. Neither of them is better than the other. Its just how life has played out. Humans are such interesting creatures. Someone once said to me that the creation can never understand the Creator. Imagine for a second how complex we are. Each of us individually has an infinite amount of complications. So when for a moment you can truly connect with someone it is an amazing accomplishment. 

So many people in the world with all their different, weird and interesting characteristics, so when you reach out its like shooting an arrow in the dark and hoping for the best. As long as you don't hit the underbelly, you'll be just fine.

Who killed chivalry.

The problem with men and women is that we want our cake and we want to eat it too.

Men want a woman who is bold, audacious, sexy, unafraid to take charge and make things happen. But they also want a helpless, whispery princess to flutter her eyelash and ache to be rescued by her dashing prince. Women want to rule the world, make their own money, make their own rules, dictate their terms and be their own bosses. But they also want a romantic, charming, sweep me off my feet charmer that makes their hearts rejoice with happiness.

There are always winners and losers in that battle. Who gets to have what they want? And who has to make the sacrifice so the other person can get it? If you want a chivalrous man do you have to be the helpless girlish girl waiting to be rescued? Or does a chivalrous man appear when you are at your most bullish?

The male ego is fragile. Perhaps thats the wisdom in giving them a strong body. Whereas women have softer exteriors and the toughest hearts. Together we make a complete, complex whole, each protecting the softness in the other. In the past the recipe was simple. In the romantic era, women dressed in a certain way, men behaved in a certain way. Society dictated that your bosoms be on display, that you could sew, play a musical instrument and speak and sing in the gentlest of voices. Men walked around all puffed up, dressed in boots, jackets, hats, smoked pipes and rode around on their horses bragging about war. You would book a dance on the lady's dance card and ask her permission to walk with her in the garden. 

Now its a lot more complicated and everyone is confused. Do you take flowers? Do you pay for dinner? Do you open the door? There should be a charm school for men and women. Since the dating rules have changed so drastically, everyone should get a chance to be on the same page at least. The line between appropriate and inappropriate courting has become so blurred that its a wonder when you do meet someone who does it exactly right. I suppose there are no hard and fast rules any longer except the ones you put in play.

Someone once said to me, it's the women who get to choose. Men put their offers forward and women accept or reject them. Have we forgotten this? We can dictate how we wish to be treated not the other way around. If we wish to be wooed with romantic gestures and flowers and such we have a right to want it. 

However, in the defense of men. You cannot be a dashing prince swooping to rescue a woman who appears to be stronger and more capable than you are. The key is to analyse each woman's needs individually. If you wish to find your way into her heart you have to use the door she opens for you. And if that means you have to cook a meal, rub her feet, write little notes of poetry, then just do it. Because thats what it means to be chivalrous and gallant.

So ultimately chivalry is not dead. Its just hanging in our closets. Dusty, unused and forgotten. Its up to us to implement its use. 

Extra credit?

I would like to know if we get extra credit everytime we use an arabic word?

Everyone is fast and loose with arabic words of wisdom, blessings, advice, strength and so on and I have no idea what these words mean. I have to google them to make sure I understand what someone is saying sometimes. Is it perhaps that everyone my age has now come to that level where we are meant to talk the lingo? I didn't grow up in Saudi so using the terms in my daily conversations proves to be very challenging. I didn't grow up in a household that did either so it is rather new to me and my English ears.

When you speak with arabic terms you assume that the person listening knows what you mean. You could come off sounding a bit condescending, making the listener feel inadequate in their knowledge. Inevitably preventing the person from understanding your message and killing any courage they might have to ask you to translate. To that person, I mean me, you could be speaking in Chinese. Perhaps the fault lies with me and my lack of arabic knowledge and understanding.

I had look at Mufti Menk's Facebook status updates for some guidance and his last 20 updates had zero arabic terms in it. If someone so learned doesn't feel the need to use them in those updates, then I wonder if it is necessary to speak that way to be a better Muslim? 

Will I get more credit? It reminds me of high school. We are all here to pass through. We will all pass through. Some with better marks than others. We all studied the same subjects in the same language. There was no extra credit if you could say 'atom' in five languages. The credit for atom lie in the knowing of what an atom was. 

By all means speak the speak if it makes you happy and proud. But remember without knowing what you need to know, the speak are just words without any weight.