I think I’ve finally succeeded. In letting go. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for it to happen, and being miserable just because it’s not happening. I did everything I could do. Voilà.
I even managed to invite a pregnant friend, and be okay with looking at her big belly and caring husband all evening. I didn’t have an emotional breakdown when the second birth announcement in one week’s time arrived in the mail today. But I did read an article about the fact that you should freeze your eggs before you’re 35, “because then they’re still fine”. So, one year left to surrender my future to sub-zero temperatures. Start preparing for your polar expedition guys (or girls?).
In the meantime, instead of waiting for a miracle, I’ve decided to just enjoy life. (Rocket science, isn’t it?). In the last month, I’ve spent more quality time with friends than in the past year, and I’m still trying to burn some calories in the girly gym. I realize I have the freedom to do whatever I want, whenever I want. There’s no (cute) life-long responsibility holding me back. I can be deliciously selfish, without feeling guilty about it. I guess that’s just what happens when your patience is way over its expiration-date. I’m on a “me-trip”, and enjoying every minute of it.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Brussels is (still) boiling
So, what does one do when it’s 35°C for days on end?
- escape to parents’ garden, and hang in the hammock
- drag friend from behind her new Mac to have drinks outside
- have a water spray on the bedside table to sprinkle oneself before going to sleep
- organize a BBQ, which includes dragging up five heavy grocery bags to the second floor.
- convince godchild that his parents should install a pool in their suburbian garden
- live on a diet of water and ice cream
- be a walking drinking fountain for all sorts of insects, and thus be covered in nasty bites
- fuck the cellulite, and put on shorts
- put a ventilator in the class room which blows away everyone’s papers
- take the hamster out on the terrace after a midnight thunderstorm for a bit of very needed fresh air
- have the great idea to buy new underwear in the summer sales, when it’s almost 40°C in the fitting rooms
- drive around in car, ‘cause it’s the only place with airconditioning
- still use the hairdryer to look good, even if more hot air is the last thing you need
- close the curtains during day time, and open them at night time
- and now: go to the park with book and water bottle!
- escape to parents’ garden, and hang in the hammock
- drag friend from behind her new Mac to have drinks outside
- have a water spray on the bedside table to sprinkle oneself before going to sleep
- organize a BBQ, which includes dragging up five heavy grocery bags to the second floor.
- convince godchild that his parents should install a pool in their suburbian garden
- live on a diet of water and ice cream
- be a walking drinking fountain for all sorts of insects, and thus be covered in nasty bites
- fuck the cellulite, and put on shorts
- put a ventilator in the class room which blows away everyone’s papers
- take the hamster out on the terrace after a midnight thunderstorm for a bit of very needed fresh air
- have the great idea to buy new underwear in the summer sales, when it’s almost 40°C in the fitting rooms
- drive around in car, ‘cause it’s the only place with airconditioning
- still use the hairdryer to look good, even if more hot air is the last thing you need
- close the curtains during day time, and open them at night time
- and now: go to the park with book and water bottle!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Summer in the city
Isn’t it amazing what a haircut and a bit of sunny weather can do? Throw in some new Tommy Hilfiger shorts* (size 26, whoopee!), and a new bottle of the best smelling Rituals body lotion at a ridiculous discount, and N has all the ingredients to feel happy.
Also helping: great students in my morning group at school ( one of them an INSEAD partner of J ’05!), mom out of hospital, and the sweetest cleaning lady on earth who has ironed all of P’s shirts.
Yep, summer’s in the city – and in my head. Let’s see how long it will last (both of them).
* : no! That's not me! Just a random pic I took in the park - and right at the moment I pressed the button, the girl took off her shorts!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
The Girly Gym : update
Time to give you an update on the Girly Gym.
It’s so girly.
Example 1: they organize an open-door, and of course this cannot be done without a theme. So the theme is “Bretagne”. And that’s why, every day this week, I can work out, and dig into a pile of pancakes afterwards.
Example 2: five big flatscreens – no sport channels, but every imaginable daily soap (oh, and MTV)
Example 3: Dove shower gels.
Example 4: no competition going on. Except for the best smelling body lotion in the changing rooms.
Example 5: 30 girls going completely wild, dancing and singing, during some class called BodyJam
Example 6: yoga-class with music from City Owls and candles
I love it. But right now, I do need a bit of testosterone after all this girly business. So, if you’ll excuse me, Spain is playing against Portugal, and I don’t want to miss one more minute of it!
It’s so girly.
Example 1: they organize an open-door, and of course this cannot be done without a theme. So the theme is “Bretagne”. And that’s why, every day this week, I can work out, and dig into a pile of pancakes afterwards.
Example 2: five big flatscreens – no sport channels, but every imaginable daily soap (oh, and MTV)
Example 3: Dove shower gels.
Example 4: no competition going on. Except for the best smelling body lotion in the changing rooms.
Example 5: 30 girls going completely wild, dancing and singing, during some class called BodyJam
Example 6: yoga-class with music from City Owls and candles
I love it. But right now, I do need a bit of testosterone after all this girly business. So, if you’ll excuse me, Spain is playing against Portugal, and I don’t want to miss one more minute of it!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Third year in a row
That my dad spends his birthday in a hospital room with my mom.
23 June 2008 : mom in hospital for chemo
23 June 2009 : mom in hospital for surgery
23 June 2010 : mom in hospital because of bad reaction to chemo + infection
It seems that the beginning of summer is not such a happy time for our little family.
Today, for the first time in months, I also had the opportunity to hear what her doctor has to say. In other words: the real facts, instead of the embellished version I always get to hear through my mom or dad. The cancer is very aggressive. The chances of completely curing it are very small. We just have to find the right chemo that keeps it under control, and that doesn’t make her life too miserable. Right.
In the meantime, hair is falling out rapidly – and the disease is making itself very visible again. 6 kilo’s less in one week, probably completely bald by next week.
Why, why, why, why, why? I know: it’s useless to ask that question. But, damn it, it’s so unfair. I have a friend who will spend part of the summer in Spain. She’s pregnant, and she’s going to relax there in the beautiful summer house her parents have bought to enjoy the rest of their lives there. My parents will spend their summer in Belgium, with regular visits to the hospital – and I think that my child (if I ever have one) might never get to know his or her grandmother.
All the “focus on the positive” sounds like such empty “blah-blah” right now. Yes, I know, there are always people who are worse off. Yes, even the smallest chance is worth fighting for. Yes, my mom is still here – she’s not dead yet. And all that is supposed to make me feel better? Well…no. It doesn’t.
Tomorrow she can go home again. No hospital for one week. Normal food. Only one nurse, twice a day. Her own bed. The cats. Seeing how happy all that makes her, that makes me feel a bit better.
23 June 2008 : mom in hospital for chemo
23 June 2009 : mom in hospital for surgery
23 June 2010 : mom in hospital because of bad reaction to chemo + infection
It seems that the beginning of summer is not such a happy time for our little family.
Today, for the first time in months, I also had the opportunity to hear what her doctor has to say. In other words: the real facts, instead of the embellished version I always get to hear through my mom or dad. The cancer is very aggressive. The chances of completely curing it are very small. We just have to find the right chemo that keeps it under control, and that doesn’t make her life too miserable. Right.
In the meantime, hair is falling out rapidly – and the disease is making itself very visible again. 6 kilo’s less in one week, probably completely bald by next week.
Why, why, why, why, why? I know: it’s useless to ask that question. But, damn it, it’s so unfair. I have a friend who will spend part of the summer in Spain. She’s pregnant, and she’s going to relax there in the beautiful summer house her parents have bought to enjoy the rest of their lives there. My parents will spend their summer in Belgium, with regular visits to the hospital – and I think that my child (if I ever have one) might never get to know his or her grandmother.
All the “focus on the positive” sounds like such empty “blah-blah” right now. Yes, I know, there are always people who are worse off. Yes, even the smallest chance is worth fighting for. Yes, my mom is still here – she’s not dead yet. And all that is supposed to make me feel better? Well…no. It doesn’t.
Tomorrow she can go home again. No hospital for one week. Normal food. Only one nurse, twice a day. Her own bed. The cats. Seeing how happy all that makes her, that makes me feel a bit better.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
What's smurfing?
Hello everybody! Just to let you know that my “writing tools” have changed! That’s right, I have a new laptop. A gift from my daddy (sweet, isn’t it?). Office 2010 still confuses me, and I haven’t discovered yet what’s so awesome about Windows 7; fifty percent of my pictures seem to have disappeared, and I desperately want all my “favorites” back in place when I go online – but all in all, I’m happy! The fact that the new laptop is smurf-blue doesn’t play a small part in this. Also, I found the perfect compromise between my everlasting doubt between a 15 or a 13 inch screen : a 14 inch! When I ask P what he thinks about my new laptop, the answer I get is “it’s blue” – so as for its quality, I’m afraid I can’t say a lot. The reviews online are ok, and it does everything I ask it to do.
Of course, being N, I also miss my old laptop – even if it drove me crazy. But it was my very first one. I started this blog on it. It was the first and only computer I had in my first apartment. It went to Fonty with me. I found my new job on it. I started PC-banking on it. That’s why, as for now, the old laptop is still “in the house”. That heavy, big, boring grey, super slow thing holds so many memories, and (also important) …. ALL of my pictures.
Of course, being N, I also miss my old laptop – even if it drove me crazy. But it was my very first one. I started this blog on it. It was the first and only computer I had in my first apartment. It went to Fonty with me. I found my new job on it. I started PC-banking on it. That’s why, as for now, the old laptop is still “in the house”. That heavy, big, boring grey, super slow thing holds so many memories, and (also important) …. ALL of my pictures.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
After the anger
Something happens when you try to control your emotions for days and days. When you don’t try to feel the pain, because it’s just too big. When you don’t try to feel anything in fact, just because you have to keep on going. When you don’t want to feel the anger that’s starting to boil up inside again, because it’s all so damn unfair. And when you feel very, very alone.
What happens is that, sooner or later, you’ll explode.
I wish I could just break down and cry – that would be so mush easier. People understand sadness. People comfort you. They say “here here”, and give you a Kleenex and a cup of tea. But when you feel really angry, people just look at you as if you’re a freak. As if you’ve done something wrong. So on top of all the shitty feelings you already have, you can feel guilty for being angry as well. Because no matter how you twist and turn it : when you’re angry, you do and say things you’ll regret.
So here I am. Angry. Angry because for more than two years, my life is being overshadowed by that illness of my mom. Angry because I don’t know how much longer this will last. Angry because I feel so useless. Because I’m so damned alone, because it’s just me. Angry because I’m fed up of being surrounded by shiny happy people, who’s life is revolving around new life and future – instead of around sickness. Angry because I’m taking care of everybody, but no one’s taking care of me.
At my parents’, I’m the strong one. I have to. I look after my dad (who’s at the end of his wits), I look after my mom (who’s both emotionally and physically exhausted). I tell my dad to eat, I bring him croissants in the morning. I keep a happy face, even when I have to wear mouth masks and god knows what else if I want to see my mom.
And then when I come home, I have to take care of myself. And that’s where it all goes wrong. I can’t anymore. I need someone who takes me out for a walk, who puts me under a hot shower, who feeds me, and who puts me in front of a happy movie, wrapped in a blanket, who tells me that yes, indeed, my life is shit at the moment, and they understand how I feel.
Tonight, instead of all the above, I ended up at Mc Donalds with my favourite six-year old. Whose happy face and kisses were as good as a blanket. Afterwards, his mom spoiled me with tea, popcorn, and icecream. And girly movies. I didn’t have to ask for any of it. She just did. She took care. Of me.
What happens is that, sooner or later, you’ll explode.
I wish I could just break down and cry – that would be so mush easier. People understand sadness. People comfort you. They say “here here”, and give you a Kleenex and a cup of tea. But when you feel really angry, people just look at you as if you’re a freak. As if you’ve done something wrong. So on top of all the shitty feelings you already have, you can feel guilty for being angry as well. Because no matter how you twist and turn it : when you’re angry, you do and say things you’ll regret.
So here I am. Angry. Angry because for more than two years, my life is being overshadowed by that illness of my mom. Angry because I don’t know how much longer this will last. Angry because I feel so useless. Because I’m so damned alone, because it’s just me. Angry because I’m fed up of being surrounded by shiny happy people, who’s life is revolving around new life and future – instead of around sickness. Angry because I’m taking care of everybody, but no one’s taking care of me.
At my parents’, I’m the strong one. I have to. I look after my dad (who’s at the end of his wits), I look after my mom (who’s both emotionally and physically exhausted). I tell my dad to eat, I bring him croissants in the morning. I keep a happy face, even when I have to wear mouth masks and god knows what else if I want to see my mom.
And then when I come home, I have to take care of myself. And that’s where it all goes wrong. I can’t anymore. I need someone who takes me out for a walk, who puts me under a hot shower, who feeds me, and who puts me in front of a happy movie, wrapped in a blanket, who tells me that yes, indeed, my life is shit at the moment, and they understand how I feel.
Tonight, instead of all the above, I ended up at Mc Donalds with my favourite six-year old. Whose happy face and kisses were as good as a blanket. Afterwards, his mom spoiled me with tea, popcorn, and icecream. And girly movies. I didn’t have to ask for any of it. She just did. She took care. Of me.
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