Babyfly dreaming

I was going to write – had actually written nearly 400 words – about how I may have been lying to myself for the last sixteen years or so about wishing that I'd had kids of my own. The lie being ‘I always wanted my own children but circumstance prevented me’.

Circumstance coupled with my own fear certainly didn’t encourage, but it was my own decision all along not to become pregnant whilst in a long-term relationship and I decided just before my 40th birthday to end my fertility with a tubal ligation. So did I ‘always want my own children’? Perhaps. Maybe. Possibly… Or not?

My younger adult years – ten of them actually – included being a step-parent to two young girls. I was devoted to them and loved them but left their father as suicidal depression overtook me. The result of years of emotional and some physical abuse. I knew that there was no rightness in conceiving with him and I think my body agreed.

As my thirties began I followed my heart and found art, a need to learn and a desperation to experience life beyond the wrong career and the wrong partner. Going to college, then university and somehow living a piece of youth I’d missed, was amazing and affecting. The last year of my degree course was marred by nagging pain and odd discomforts; MS was diagnosed shortly after my graduation ceremony. The decision to be sterilised followed about two and a half years later.

The thinking went: I have no current partner, but I still want to have sex; I will use condoms of course… It will take time to build a relationship, I am nearly 40 and I don’t want an accidental pregnancy.

I never wanted to bring children into the world if they weren’t fully wanted and to be welcomed; the main reason for not adding to my ex-husband’s family.

There seemed no real choice. I was single, fit and doing well after great effort to control the MS symptoms and a big commitment to improving my health. There is good evidence that relapse is more common after childbirth. Any future from where I was then meant that my own health had to come first. And so, no more fertility.

But what of the girl of fourteen wishing for The Waltons? I mean literally; that by the time I was in my twenties I would have born several children with more to follow? 'Night Jim-Bob!

My desire to give birth to and nurture a complete tribe was deep and passionate. It didn't really abate until the passing of time showed how unreal it was; I didn't have a boyfriend, let alone anyone with whom to procreate so generously. And I never did.

No boyfriends in my teens and when I met the man who became my first husband, at the age of 22, he landed an untried and untested model; bendy, energetic, innocent and willing. His two beautiful children seemed so available, their mother having died two years before we all met. So, two down, several more to go?

No. No more. Just the sense of duty and obligation that goes with an old-fashioned view of what partnership might be. I did as seemed 'right' and put up with my new losses. Lost independence, lost virginity and by the eighth year, lost hope. I was better off out of that, The Waltons having long since faded into sepia memory. It took two more years to leave and I left everything including the two girls so lovely and loved... That is my regret.

Not the lack of birth children, but the loss of the ones I loved. At the time I was broken, caught between that obligation, the fact of a marriage made in a church and vows to stay no matter what. I knew no way of leaving that included telling such young people what was going on; 'your dad raped me' doesn't really work. Nor does 'he's a complete narcissist'. He did, he was and I left loving him deeply in spite of the scars. But thank goodness I did, I wouldn't have lived much longer if I'd stayed.

I don't regret the decision to be sterilised, nor do I now want children. They would be mid-teens by now and frankly I wouldn't want to have to deal with that! I don't want teenagers, nor actually any more twenty-somethings. A second marriage brought more of other people's children with whom I have constructive and loving relationships and none of the guilt of having been their birth parent!

A relative recently mentioned that they were sad not to have, or hope to have grandchildren. But they have a child, a grown-up, functional adult who is loving and creative. That ought to be enough I think. Grandchildren are just a fact of others procreative activity, no one has a right to them; especially in these modern times. And, so many grandparents are carers and childminders, it might be a blessing.

Learning to make something of what one has and to value a life which is not extended through genetic sharing is quite hard, especially having hankered after seven children! But if I regret leaving some young people in the lurch, I know that they are loved and capable of love. And the younger generation for whom I represent an older, perhaps wiser and occasionally cool resource seem happy enough with me as I am. I like that.

And frankly, bengal cats are enough!

 

Alien invasion? Yes please!

New Year, new look blog, new ideas and some sense of purpose in posting. Yippee! Something that has been playing in my mind for a while relates to one of the concepts mentioned in theTen Traits of Asperger's (women, girls) which I mention from time to time. The one about not fitting in, not feeling as though one belongs on this planet...

As a teenager and young woman, I frequently fantasized about aliens landing and taking me into their spaceship. There, rather than do horrendous experiments or try to inseminate me, they would actually improve me. Using my genetic code as the basis for some lovely sciency rebuilding from a cellular level, they would take all my bits and improve them to the best they could be, according to my chromosomes. I was big on genetic inheritance! So, banished would be the asthma and allergies, which came from my father and instead I might have my mum's stoicism and physical constitution. It was a fervent wish and a frequent fantasy.

Now in my fifties, with diagnosed Multiple Sclerosis, managed hypertension and flat feet, some of that has come true: I don't get asthma any more! Hours of my life were spent in mental anguish; alone in my bedroom because I had no idea whatsoever of how to go out and be more sociable or how to get hold of that elusive but expected accessory, a boyfriend. At School I was not really a 'loner', but asthma excluded me from many sports, which in turn meant exclusion from the groups of 'fit and popular' types; while interest led me to a small group who were rather nerdy and insular. They didn't do well with boys at first, then improved as I continued to lag behind. If those aliens could have mended me, perhaps I wouldn't have been so lonely for so long?

I really didn't fit in. It's too easy to say that all teenagers are disaffected, or spend time being lonely and confused, of course they do, it's part of normal development. Looking back though, it was all of those years. It varied, there were some social occasions, but so few I can still recount them in detail. Some relief was finding said nerdy friends wanting to go the the local weekly folk club, when we were all seventeen. That was fun, we all passed for eighteen easily, so drank pints of mild ale and sang along to hairy folk bands. Apart from that though? I was no party animal. Clearly alien myself, I needed rescuing!

Standing in the garden at night, looking up at the stars, I would send out my heartfelt wishes in telepathic form - sometimes even empathic, once I knew that word - in the hope that an advanced society on the wing, scooting across the cosmos, would alight and immediately 'know' me as friend. Then, without pain or making me forget what happened, they would transport me into their craft and use sundry molecular machinery in my remaking. It was a lovely fantasy. Sometimes even now, I wonder if those evolved and lovely beings are about somewhere, taking notes of all the requests from disaffected teens, or Aspie women around the globe. Wouldn't it be nice if they decided to drop by? I bet they'd like cake...!

Notes on the Neuro

So far my posts have tended towards revelatory extreme, as I have been processing what it means to find Asperger's Syndrome playing a much larger part in my life than I ever imagined it could. In the physical world a small number of close and significant people have also read the posts and some have commented. There are things I need to say in order to maintain balance and realism about these revelations; I suspect others will need to attend to this kind of 'tidying up' also, when they share their status with relatives and friends.

Aah, to fly eh?

Asperger's traits are not symptoms of neurosis or mental illness. Nor are they necessarily disabling. In fact the opposite is true for me. Sensitivity, coupled with honesty means I feel certain things acutely and am prone to express those feelings rather than hide them. Sometimes that is unwelcome, but without that capacity I wouldn't have been available to some very important people in my life, supporting them through their own troubles or traumas. I wouldn't have been able to process some deep truths that have come my way, then re-worded them for others to understand better.


My ability to empathise, then to process the feelings I experience has enabled me to provide words and images that further explain difficult concepts for a wider audience. I'll give an example; I have MS and some years ago helped set up the first MS Therapy Centre in Cornwall, my input included this page A little about Multiple Sclerosis, which forms part of the website for the Cornwall MS Therapy Centre. I built the original site, the page is all that now survives, after eight years - hey, but I'm proud of that! Here's another link, in the picture I am fourth from the left, beaming and trying to hide from the camera!

I am deeply curious about life, people, the world and many specific subjects. It's the curiosity which is important here, not the subjects of my interest: curious does not mean nosy! It means a desire to learn, find out or make sense of life through questioning or investigating. It is not a desire to discover someone else's secrets in order to mock or claim foreknowledge. In fact it could be considered complimentary. If I am curious about you, what you do or how you live then I am actively taking an interest in you and your life; is that not enjoyable? Don't you want that kind of attention? Some don't of course and I have usually learned to my cost when I have asked too many questions!

Some determination required!

Others clearly enjoy the interest and trust me with their personal thoughts and concerns, I really love them for that. These are true friends, they are few. This is normal, I understand - and if you are an Aspie reading this, I want to reassure you that in the big world of neurotypicality, most healthy individuals have only a small handful of really close friends. Social circles may be full of friendly acquaintances, slightly interesting folk, work colleagues who are likeable or of others who share a hobby; but still, close and deep friendship is a rare and precious thing. It is a privilege to have a trusting and deep friendship, including with family members and it is by no means automatic!

Joy anyone?

As I seem to be doing some personal mythbusting here, you might be interested in learning a bit more about what Asperger's is not here's where to find out.
Reading the above through, the issue with 'finding friends' in life is something I read a lot among the Aspie literature and social media. Here's a thing: if those with Asperger's are more inclined to honesty than the neurotypical, then be aware that perhaps your one or two close friends are more than many NT's actually have. It is a myth that anyone can have loads of friends, it really is. Another lie from the world of those who frankly are more frightened of being alone than you or I should ever be!

For those of you that would like to know more about Asperger's in Females, visit lovely Samantha Craft's blog here (Everyday Asperger's) and read about the traits as she describes them. Non-clinical and non-threatening, the reality of living in a world that can be utterly confusing finds some explanation for some of us here. Enjoy.