This expected gratitude

This expected gratitude

I wrote that I’m grateful. Which is true. I have a lot to be grateful for. Survival of the cancer. The transplantation. My family. But I do not go around and feel particularly unique or special. It’s just not me. I´m not one of the coolest or smartest on this earth, but it’s okay. I’m happy if I get to be an average Joe. Just ordinary.

There is some kind of expectation (conscious or unconscious, what do I know) of someone who recovers from a fatal disease (or something else traumatic) that you should be so grateful to be alive. To live every day like it’s the last and not take anything for granted. In a relatively short period of my life, I tried to live up to it. Grab hold of my dreams and try to make sure my life was as eventful and meaningful as possible. Tried to enjoy every single moment. Eventually, I landed in that it just made me more stressed. So I stopped pushing myself. Stopped doing what others thought I should do. I realized that I´m the happiest when I have no demands or expectations on me. Quality of life for me is being able to do nothing. Regardless of cancer.

Going from infertile to having a greatly desired child holds the same idea of ​​gratitude. I’ve heard so many involuntary childless women say “If I had a child, I would never complain or whine over it’s hard”. I was the same. Until I had children. I can not answer how mothers in a similar situation live their lives, but I myself can not live up to the picture that, as (formerly) involuntarily childless must be grateful all the time. I get angry at my children. I am sometimes tired, sad or something else that makes everything feel overwhelming. Then I whine. That does not mean I’m not grateful for what I have.

The entire process from start to where we are now, we have gone through by taking one step at a time. Tried to keep us on earth and done what makes sense to us. I’m not going to start doing anything else now. This blog is not a long song of praise and neither is one of those mom blogs where everything is portrayed so idyllically. I want to write my story as it is, not what it suppose to be. Apart from we have gone through a uterine transplant, our life is very ordinary. Just as we want it to be.

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