Feeling a bit fragile this week as we journey through another month without a positive pregnancy test, surrounded by celebrations of other peoples impending little ones. I am not sure it will ever be easy to hear the news of someone elses pregnancy without tears. Please know it is not sorrow for you news-bearers, or evidence that we don't want to share in your celebration, but simply that your joy touches a part of us so wounded and sensitive that your news cuts deep.
My tears are impossible to hold back as my heart remembers it's own losses, and feels again the pain of being childless and the struggle we walk every day. Most of the time though the thoughts are always present, the reality can be kept from the forefront with activity and studying, cooking, creating and friendship. However, a pregnancy announcement forces the rest of life to the sidelines, and the hole in my heart feels exposed, and in that moment nothing could hurt more.
As I type the tears are falling, I guess recalling said announcements also exposes the fears and hurt too?!
Their is a true grief involved as we process your news. We love you, and we know they joy for your family will come soon enough, but in the moment we are painfully reminded of what we do not have, and over come with fear and grief as we mourn the loss of simplicity in our journey to parenthood.
I struggle to have acceptable or appropriate responses, but have learned instead that being real is better. Most friends tell us in the most sensitive of ways. Knowing our story and wanting to honor our struggle and as they do, I feel free to honor them with a real response, even if that is tears.
I stopped trying to be strong and put on a front about this a long time ago. Being transparent has allowed us to journey honestly with others. Our tears as well as our laughter are more genuinely understood, and we can be more fully known. As we put ourselves out there in this way we have been met with the same transparency and honesty which gives our community and relationships depth and firm foundation.
I look forward to the celebrations we will share in the future, both our own and others. But equally I anticipate meeting others in their pain and grief in the same way we have been met and lifted up.
It's a (almost) sunny day in Seattle and my garden is calling, I am hoping it will give me some time to reflect and regroup. Keeping my hands busy is always a good thing on days when every fiber of my body wants to curl up under the covers and hide away from the world.
I am so tired of feeling so sad. I am not sure how to be in life both without a child and without a broken heart. I believe there is a story being written, but its hard to embrace the passions I have and the person I believe I am called to be when there seems to be something so huge missing. I have lost purpose and struggle to be motivated in everything that used to bring real joy.
I am at an impasse. Frozen. Hoping the thaw comes soon.