Change of season

​August is over and with that it´s the end of the summer months. For those of us who love all the seasons, autumn is also a welcome change of scenery. The sun is no longer as intense, and as SPF 50 is not so critical, my skin can breathe a little. There is a freshness in the air that has become noticeably cooler against skirt-clad legs. The birch trees along Steinsletta have been given golden leaves, matching the yellow fields. A formation of birds flies across the sky that seems extra blue. I have spent the afternoon with a friend and I´m on my way home. A quick visit to everyday life as it looks to most of my friends now. In recent years, there has been a serious change of season there as well. Most of them jumped on the family train with houses, husbands and children, and we are getting fewer and fewer left back at the station.

Whereas someone might envy me the freedom and all the free time I have, I feel a longing for the family life I did not get to create. "It's fine," I say. Trying to seem brave and unaffected. "Good things come to those who wait" they answer, but the voices no longer sounds so certain. It is difficult to admit to oneself that one feels envy. Envy of good friends who one by one slips into familylife. Effortlessly they manage work, diapers, baby cryes and sour crumbs. In the meantime, I´m sitting on the outside looking in, while the distance between us increases. How did I end up here on the outside? Why does it feel like I´m on the outside? I guess it just feels like that because I imagined life would be different by now. Maybe the expectations are my biggest problem? The expectations of what life should look like?

These are not new thoughts. They've been buzzing around before. They do less damage when you accept that they are there. When you´re not trying to override or replace them, just register that they are there and will soon disappear again. Replaced by the reminder that there are bigger and worse problems than infertility and lupus. In the end,  gratitude usually wins the internal tug-of-war with self-pity. My first lupus summer is over and with the exception of a tiny flare-up and slightly higher prednisolone doses, it went very well, considering everything I had heard. I look out at the fields. A sprinkle of drops from the watering system hits my face as I cycle past. It brings out the childish joy of water. I have to smile. It's not too late yet. Seeds are sown in the fall as well. Seeds that give nice flowers when spring comes.