When I was little
My next-door neighbors
Had massive fig trees
In their backyard.
As children,
We would play in them
For hours.

Sometimes in our games,
We would imagine
That they were pirate ships.
Sometimes they were a jungle gym.
Sometimes they were just trees.

So when I came across
The following excerpt
During the college years,
I remembered those fig trees
From my childhood.

From The Bell Jar
By Sylvia Plath:

“I saw my life
branching out before me
like the green fig tree
in the story.
From the tip
of every branch,
like a fat purple fig,
a wonderful future
beckoned and winked.
One fig was a husband
and a happy home
and children,
and another fig
was a famous poet
and another fig
was a brilliant professor,
and another fig
was Ee Gee,
the amazing editor,
and another fig
was Europe
and Africa
and South America,
and another fig
was Constantin
and Socrates
and Attila
and a pack of other lovers
with queer names
and offbeat professions,
and another fig
was an Olympic lady crew champion,
and beyond and above
these figs
were many more figs
I couldn’t quite make out.
I saw myself
sitting in the crotch
of this fig tree,
starving to death,
just because
I couldn’t make up my mind
which of the figs
I would choose.
I wanted each and every one of them,
but choosing one
meant losing all the rest,
and, as I sat there,
unable to decide,
the figs began to wrinkle
and go black,
and, one by one,
they plopped to the ground
at my feet.”

And I actually loved
And laughed
When I recently read
This take on it
By Charlotte Ahlin,
Whose summation
Of this quote
Was simply:

She was hungry.

Because, same.
Who can think clearly
When they’re hungry?

But
Back when I first read it,
It was my first year of college.
With my whole life ahead of me.
And I had no idea
What major I would choose.
English?
Psychology?
Dance?
Sociology?
Art?
Math (haha just kidding, read this)

And what about my life?
Would I choose
A career?
A family?
Working mom?
Stay-at-home mom?
Or were there
Other options
That I didn’t even
Know about yet?
Figs with blurry labels
I couldn’t quite read.

I shared her anxiety.

I got a D- in Economics 110
In college.
And that was
The second time I took it
After failing entirely
The first time.
(So I definitely knew
NOT to choose that
As my college major…)

But one thing I did learn
And still remember,
Was the concept of
Opportunity cost.

In Econ, it defined as:
What you miss out on
IE: time, money, or a different benefit.
Because you used your limited resources
For one specific option instead of another.

So even though I had no idea
What that meant in Econ,
I definitely knew
What it meant in real life.

Because choosing one thing –

Even if it’s right;
Even if you want it;
More than all the rest –

Means NOT choosing the others.

Even if you chose the fig
You wanted the most
Above all the other figs.

Grieving the relationship
You didn’t have.

The alternate life
You didn’t live.

The path
You didn’t take.

Because grasping
And holding on
To one fig
Means letting the rest
Fall to the ground.
Sometimes.

And I started to wonder:
Is there a single word
For the grief caused
By the fallen figs?

When I had my first baby
I grieved
The loss
Of the life
Of a family of 2.
Just my husband and me.
Even though
We chose together
Absolutely and without question
That we wanted children.
Because we knew
It would never be the same again.

And then
With each new baby
I grieved
The loss of our family
Of 3 people.

I actually remember
Being pregnant with Baby #2
Sobbing in my car,
Because I wasn’t sure yet
If we were ruining
The life of our oldest child
By him having a sibling.
And I vividly remember
Being sad about the idea
That it wouldn’t be
Just the 2 of us
Hanging out
Anymore.

But then I felt similarly
When our family grew
And I grieved the loss
Of our family…

Of 4 people
Of 5 people
Of 6 people.

And after all that
I grieved again –
When all the babies were here
(finally!)
And our family felt complete.

And I wasn’t expecting that,
Quite honestly.
I thought I would just be elated
To be done
With morning sickness
And gestational diabetes
And swollen ankles
And heartburn.
And I definitely was.
But also,
There was grief.
Because that chapter ended.
Because I couldn’t do both.
Because by choosing one option
I had to also
Let go of one.

And I find myself
Even now
Grieving the chapters that end:
High school.
Missions.
No more preschool.
No more elementary school.

And even though
My kids are definitely
Older and taller,
Our family
Sometimes feels like
It is shrinking –
From 7 people
To 6
To 5…

And I’ve also learned
Sometimes –
When one path becomes clear
Even if
It’s the one that we wanted,
The one we prayed for –
There are still
Elements of grief.
Because grieving the loss
Of the other options
Is real.
And maybe it’s because
There are more options to grieve
Than to hold.
Like with the figs.
When you hold one,
It feels like
You have to let the rest fall.

And to that
I would argue:
It’s okay to be sad
About what you’re losing.
And happy
About what you’re gaining.
At the same time.

I once heard it said
We have two hands
So that we can hold
Two truths
Simultaneously
Even if they seem
At first
To contradict one another.
Polarizing truths.
Contradicting emotions.

Grief and gratitude.
Sadness and joy.
Heartache and happiness.
At the same moment.

Because another thing
I took away
From my time in college
Was when I learned
That we can feel
Multiple emotions, even opposites,
All at once.
And I find that to be true.

Because in the moments
That I was grieving
The loss
Of the family of 2,3…6
I was also
So grateful
So excited
So joyful
For what was to come.

And also
With graduations
And missions
And moving on.

And even now
In the season
Of little birds
Leaving the nest
To go out and make their own
(Or…whatever.)
I have so much
Gratitude and grief,
But also
Excitement
Anticipation
Joy
For what is to come.

And I think both can be true.
At the same time.
And it’s okay.