Etymology: Middle English, solitarie, from Anglo-French, from Latin solitarius, from solitas aloneness, from solus alone
Date: 14th century
1 a : being, living, or going alone or without companions b : saddened by isolation
Last night I had a very weird dream. I don’t remember much about it in its entirety, but what I do remember is waking up and feeling like I solved a great mystery of life.
In this dream, somehow I ended up sitting at a round table with about 10 people whose faces I did not recognize. We were talking about fears. I didn’t feel scared, but rather… melancholy. Someone commented from the other side of the table that their worst fear is death.
My response was immediate, almost as if the words were just falling out of my mouth without my lips moving…
“I am less fearful of death, and most fearful of being alone.”
It was nano-seconds later that I woke up, with those words still hovering in my head as if I said them aloud in the waking world.
I thought about it in the shower and and it was perfectly clear that as much as I would not like it to be so, it is my primary motivation in life.
It is the reason for everything.
As independent as I’ve led my life, I’ve let that fear mow me over in recent years. But when I look back to the choices I’ve made thus far, it’s been the driving undercurrent all along…
…how could I have not realized that?
This therapy adventure has certainly opened my mind in ways I had forgotten about, or didn’t have the key.
Specific to infertility, I am realizing that my want to complete my family has a lot to do with this one specific fear. The motivation has little to do with “kicking infertility’s ass” and more to do with surrounding myself with people I can count on. People that my son can count on that will still be here 30-40 years from now. Let’s face it, when I get old and if S. isn’t here, I do not want David to be alone. I don’t want him to have that burden.
I may be projecting my fear needlessly onto him, but it’s something I think about more often than I should. This is probably the only reason I haven’t truly given up. And if I am being honest with myself, I will never be able to move on until I feel comfortable that David has a sibling. Someone who can’t easily walk away, uninvesting themselves when it is convenient.
I envy those that can and have made the active decision to push family-building to the back burner and move on. I’ve wondered if it is possible for me.
My therapist says I can do that if I wish, but it will take time.
I definitely can envision a life without cycling. I am 99% sure that I do not ever want to walk into a fertility clinic again.
I am 100% sure that there is a child waiting for me, if I put myself out there.
It is very surreal to me, to know that before I had David, I always had this invisible attraction to adoption. I didn’t even know my “fertilty” status at the time, but I had always envisioned something extraordinary for my family. Perhaps I should have listened to my heart many, many years ago.
We are in research mode. No timeline, no stress. We will walk wherever the paths leads.