Things We've Set Aside

Today I quit my chorus.

My heart is a little broken.

I've been singing since I left the womb.  My family is full of musicians.  It's my thing.  It's what I do.  It's what I've always done.  Those of you who have followed my blog for awhile have probably read posts about rehearsals and performances.  Unfortunately, I have to walk away for awhile.

When I married J, we had to move to his house which is 45 minutes from my old house and my office.  My chorus rehearsed about 15 minutes from where my life used to be, making rehearsals about an hour from home now.  So on Mondays, I would leave my house at 7 AM, work, head out to grab a bite, get to rehearsal, sing my pea-pickin heart out, drive home, walk in the door around 11 PM.  It was an excruciatingly long day, but I couldn't imagine my life without song, specifically without my chorus. 

It's a group of 60 amazing women from all walks of life.  There are women from college age through the golden years, straight, gay, and probably something in between.  About half of the chorus has doctoral degrees and of course, most are moms.  It is a unique, and diverse group of talented women.  Here's a peak at our sound:


Gets ya doesn't it?  That was Thom.pson's Alleluia, performed by my chorus, which I can't name because I want to stay semi-anonymous.

Ever since fertility treatments started hard core, chorus has been more of a trial than a joy.  No only is the distance an issue, but I had to schedule injections around rehearsal time.  I was bringing lunch totes packed with ice and drugs so I could shoot up in the bathroom, trying to find a point to sneak out at hit up the men's room for shots to lessen the possibility of being walked in on.

Of course there was also the issue of being with 60 women.  You would think that with that many highly educated and diverse musicians there would be some amazing conversations.  Sadly, it was usually about, you guessed it, kids.  That is ALL the women my age talked about.  They wore it as a badge and I clearly did not fit into the clique.  Even the older women were talking about their own kids and grandkids as a running dialogue.  I ended up feeling very alone in rehearsals. 

Singing is an emotional release for me.  Sitting with all of these women, feeling left out of conversations, sneaking off to shoot up with baby juice, and then pouring my heart into my music was just getting to be too much. There were plenty of times I spent a good chunk of rehearsal hiding tears.  It was time to take a step away.  If this cycle does work, I'd be due right around the spring concert.  If it doesn't work, there's no way I'm spending another season in the mommy-pit.

I finally bit the bullet today and let my director know I wouldn't be back this season. I just told him the distance was hard and I had too much of my plate right now, but think he has an inkling of what's going on.  He knew J and I wanted to start a family right away and it's pretty obvious that that didn't happen.  In his very kind response, he told me to give J his best and that I could come back whenever I was ready.

I'm thinking of finding a mixed chorus closer to home once this all settles down, but right now I will be musicless and that makes me sad.  Dammit, I suck at baby making, but I am a good musician.

See exhibit A: Me performing with a band at a resort in Jamaica on our honeymoon (long story):

Yeah, I'm tootin my own horn, and I don't care.  It's my blog.

One day, my life will feel like it's mine again, but until then, I'm going to keep on keepin' on.

What has infertility shuffled around in your life?