“Each person’s grief journey is as unique as a fingerprint or snow flake.” – Earl Grollman
What do you do when mourning isn’t enough? What do you do when it seems like all your hopes and dreams have been completely destroyed by fate – or so it seems.
It was a happier, more naive time in my life. I knew there might be problems conceiving, I just didn’t think there would be problems maintaining a pregnancy.
I think this last miscarriage kind of did it for me. No I will not make a Youtube video crying and sobbing, I think I have too much pride for that. But I haven’t been able to sleep. I’m just going through the motions of daily life. I feel like a zombie, I probably even look like one.
This time was the longest I’ve been pregnant though, 12 weeks. 12 whole weeks! Everything looked good they said, everything wasn’t so good we came to find out. He stopped growing, just stopped. So I think to myself, “Is my uterus really that uninhabitable?” “Is the environment that unstable?” Of course there are tons more questions, but I just get more depressed.
I haven’t cried either. Well not since the initial cry of seeing my motionless, ungrowing baby on the monitor. They asked me if I wanted a picture. I said, “What for to put it next to the other 4 lost babies’ pictures?” I regret it now. I regret not being able to look at my still little boy one more time.
So I submerged myself into work. I’ve recruited 3 new writers for the blog, I’m putting in work on the other three blogs I write for. I’m having phone conferences with clients and companies. The girls were so nice, they told me to take a few weeks off. They didn’t understand that I NEEDED to work. I NEEDED to stay busy. I needed to be needed – to have something stable. This has probably been my most productive month in a while. Productive – now there’s a word worth thinking about.
No mourning isn’t enough for me. I’m beyond mourning. I’m numb. Just numb. I’ve hidden the newborn pictures of all my friend’s babies on Facebook. Everyone that could possibly have an announcement has been hidden as well. I can’t. I just can’t bring myself to feel happy when I can’t even feel sad. I can’t celebrate with them when I can’t even mourn for me.
I can’t quite say that I’m hurt, I’m more
angry pissed off is more like it. Maybe it’s because I can’t mourn, maybe it’s because I can’t cry, maybe it’s because I can’t carry a child conceived out of love to term. I’m pissed off because I don’t even know if these IVF cycles I’ll be doing will work. What if that fails too? Does it mean that I have failed as a woman and that Modern Medicine just hates me?
I have learned one thing though out of all this insanity and loss. I have learned that we all have our own grief journey. Mine is just taking a little longer to get there. I’m still stuck at the why’s and what if’s. I’m still doing the blaming game.
For now, I’ll stick to trying to get my body, mind and soul healthy before the new cycles begin. Maybe one day mourning will be enough for me, and I’ll be able to move on. Just maybe…
How have you handled your losses?