I recently heard that when a female giraffe gives birth for the first time, she does so standing up -- and fifty percent of newborn giraffes will not survive the five-foot plummet to earth. So when she feels labor coming on for #2, she does what any concerned mother recalling the horror of losing her first baby would do: She lies down.
In the pursuit of a healthy baby, we all keep trying and looking for lessons and working to get it right. So tell me: What am I supposed to learn from my negative home pregnancy test this morning? Just tell me what it is I'm doing wrong, and I'll fix it. If someone could please just tell me how I can work harder, want it more, prove that I'm worthy, I'll do it. I. Will. Do. Anything.
I've been here before. I've seen this puffy face before, these raw, seared eyes. Felt simultaneously like eating everything in the house and never eating again. Had the odd sensation of being totally disconnected from the world, from life, and yet acutely aware of life's force -- pain, drama, feeling. Wanted to crawl out of this skin, out of this pain, away from this reality which can't be mine. Each time, the shocking sting has worn away. The brightness of each morning has seemed less offensive. Somehow, I have found my way back to hope. To the essential belief that one day I will look back and not only feel that this pain has been worth it, but need to struggle harder and harder to remember what it felt like at all.
This has happened to me every other time I've been here. But how many times do you have in you? What is to say that you can find your way back time and time and time again? How much is too much to bear? And how do you know when it's coming? When you're in it? Because right now, it feels like too much to bear. I am too far gone.
What am I supposed to learn from this?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
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6 comments:
I just wanted to say I am soooo sorry. I don't have any real answers because I struggle so often with this myself. How many times can I mend a broken heart? Maybe you are to learn that you are much stronger then you thought you were. That no matter how many times you get knocked down you will stand back up, dust yourself off and say I WILL NOT LET YOU BEAT ME!!! I don't know it's theory and not one that can always get myself to believe, but I just wanted you to know you are not alone. This sucks! ((HUGS))
Oh Egg, I am so sorry. I read about people who have been trying for years and years, and I just don't think I have the (strength? stamina? stubbornness?) to do that. Putting our lives on hold time and time again is just too hard.
Our emotions really follow our cycles, and I hope you'll feel better in a couple of days. But whatever you decide- whether it's start up a new round, or take a break, or pull the plug, I'm here. BIG hugs.
I'm so sorry. This truly sucks.
I was very touched by the opening of your post. Beautifully written.
Ugghh-- this is just hard, hard, hard. I'm sorry. I'm not sure that there is necessarily meaning in all pain and all loss and all struggle. I feel as though I have seen far too much meaningless suffering to believe that. But I think we do manage to make things out of our own suffering-- we manage to get stronger, to learn, or simply to endure.
I know this feels overwhelming at the moment, but your only job right now is to put one foot in front of the other-- that's all you have to do. You don't need to plan out or figure out the months ahead-- you will get through them one step at a time too.
The truth is, you are closer than ever to your goal. You are working with a doctor that you like and trust and you just had a great cycle (that you felt confident in). Those are huge steps. You are getting closer to your baby. Hang in there and call or email anytime. I'm sending you big love.
My sweet GEH,
I can only comfort you with I too have traveled this road and the words you describe it are so right on. I don't know what the lesson is in this.....or where the resiliency is....when you need it most.....I had my miscarriage two months ago and it is a rollercoaster ride of emotion......moments of calm, moments of deep grief...numb moments...angry moments...all moments...I loved her and know she is apart of the constellation. I know you will do what is humanly possibly to pursue your baby and I am right here with you every step of the journey. My contribution you are not alone...we care...we cheer...we support you...however you wish to proceed. I am proceeding forward again after a brief respite. I am here for you.
Trish
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