* I found the following post in my draft folder and it was written in October last year. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t post it at the time or why I’ve decided to now. I guess it was such an important part of my journey, and continues to be, that I wanted to share it. I’m currently comforted by the fact that although I was in torment, I could still see that the glass was half full. I’m also not skipping over the part that quite a lot of it still relates to me now, six months later.
As time goes on it gets harder to ignore the grief.
Maybe it has been the stress of an exam looming over my head. Maybe it has been a clingy toddler. Maybe it has been the fact we haven’t had professional help. Maybe it’s the fact all of our test results came back “normal” but there just has to be something wrong, doesn’t there? The realisation that although I could get pregnant again I most likely won’t make it to full term is one that has knocked me off center.
The tentative agreement that we probably won’t try again. The closure of that door, the ending of our journey is one that I thought I would welcome. I always thought I would feel such relief to know I would not be part of that world anymore. A world that is so ingrained in my identity I feel out of sorts at the notion it won’t be there anymore. What do I do with all the information I have learnt in that time? The statistics I know all too well, the warning signs, the charts, the way of life.
How do I cope with the announcements of second babies joining families of three? How do I stop feeling guilty at my desire to have another healthy child? How do I stop that longing?
When will I stop being bitter at the hand that has been dealt to us? When do I stop blaming myself for all that we have been through?
Who do we turn to when the anger is being directed at one another? Who do we blame when there is no one there but each other?
How do we shield Little Man from our pain, our hurt, our tears?
So many questions, so little time. But I don’t think I’ll ever stop searching.
My heart skips a beat when I think of the odds Little Man unknowingly faced. How he made it through is a question I won’t ask, I don’t care, because he did and that’s all that matters.
The dark and the light of life. So much pain and devastation, yet proof that miracles do happen.
Until next time,