My deepest gratitude to every single one of you who have offered support through your kind words, ears, eyes, shoulders, hands and hearts. Many of your comments brought me to tears — though I was halfway there already — and every one has helped hold me up these past few days. Your sincerity and kindness also serve to remind me how little support I have in real life, and so I am ever more grateful.
There are so many thoughts swirling around my head, yet I still must make sense of it all. There have been many tears, many attempts at diversion, many thoughts about the past, present and future. I imagine I will find a way to articulate what’s embedded in my heart and flying through my mind at some point.
I’ve been reading some other blogs but I find myself unable to comment. Please forgive me and know it’s nothing personal. I’m just in a funk, obviously.
I am still somewhat in denial — thinking and wishing and deluding myself that maybe we still have a chance to become parents either on our own (though the chance of that happening is virtually zero) or through adoption (though we never completed paperwork due to costs and uncertainty). But then reality sets in and brings me right back.
Monday brought a brand new moon, and the beginning of a new cycle. In the past, a new cycle meant the end of an old cycle, of course, but also a new beginning — a new hope, new chance. Now, a new cycle means nothing but futility. I feel more disconnected now to the natural rhythms of my body than ever before — no more do I feel as one with the universal rhythm of the tides and the moon, la luna.
For the first time in over 25 years, I must accept the reality that I will not become pregnant, not by accident, and not with the best science money can buy. For the first time in the four years we’ve been actively trying to have a baby, we are left without a chance for a future with a child. This thought makes me ache to my core. It is crushing.
I have been one breath away from tears for days. I know a long road lies ahead. I am trying to focus on the present, but cannot stop thinking about the future. I can’t help but think that our one chance for a child died more than two years ago with our angel boy. It’s hard to believe how cruel that is. It’s impossible to know how I will ever accept this. How can l ever forgive myself and my body for its inability to sustain life?
I have tried to distract myself with work, by watching movies and basketball, planning weekends away, gardening, taking a beautiful drive in the mountains for the spring wildflowers. And yes, with good wine, sake and comfort food. M has indeed been amazing, and we are trying to hold each other up.
But every other waking minute I sit with it. I sit and I feel it and I breathe into it. I feel sorrow, frustration, anger, resentment, regret, hopelessness, despair. Cheated and defeated. I ask myself how I will get through this. I feel the ache of the past with the sadness of the present and the dread and uncertainty of the future. It’s all intertwined in my heart. And when the tears fall, I feel it all at once.