{Some pretty photos to go along with the long post I knew was coming, but just didn't know it was coming today.}
Today I was in Target looking for supplies for Max's birthday party. I looked up and saw another mom from preschool standing beside me doing the very same thing for her Max who is in the AM preschool class. We've chatted before and we were in Kindermusik with our Maxs a few years ago. Anyway, we were discussing our parties and party supplies, when she motioned to my stomach area and asked, "Are you pregnant?" Every non-pregnant woman's greatest fear. I laughed and said no, and told her we had been trying for about three years now, and that we did the whole IUI/IVF thing, and spent thousands...yada yada yada. We chatted awhile, she apologized again and again, I apologized for telling her our lengthy trying-to-get-prego journey, and then we went back to chatting about our parties. And then I spent the next few minutes getting the rest of the things I needed to get, desperately trying to keep it together as I wandered the aisles. And then I got to my car, started my drive home, and started crying.
I wasn't neccessarilty crying because she asked if I was pregnant when I wasn't. (Though I will remember not to wear any clingy tops anymore. And I guess I need to step-up my working-out) I was crying because I had come face to face, once again, with the fact that I'm not pregnant. After all the money and time and emotion - I didn't get pregnant. It took me a good month or so after we found out I wasn't pregnant to get back to having normal days where I didn't cry everyday. I had it all under control. I had buried it deep down in the depths of my being, shut and locked that door and threw away the key. Or so I thought. I don't want to go into some lengthy re-hashing of what I went through and what I'm feeling and how I'm coping. I don't want to be Debbie Downer. And I know I sound like a broken record. But I will be honest.
It hurts a little everytime I hear someone is pregnant, or see someone who is pregnant.
It hurts a little when I walk by the baby section at Target and realize I will never get to shop in that department again (at least not for myself.) And I'm sure lots of other moms with older kids feel sentimental when they pass the baby section at the store, but it's not the same as passing it with a heart that feels robbed of a dream.
It hurts a bit as I go through Max's old clothes to give them to Goodwill. The clothes I had saved in case we had another boy. The clothes I won't be needing now.
It hurts a little every time I see families with more than one child, which is pretty much everyone I know. (I think I know two friends that only have one child.) It feels a bit like not being part of the "club"; that I don't get to be part of something special that these other families are part of. They get to see their kids playing and fighting together. They get to take photos of their kids together. (I can barely get my one to let me take his photo.)
I know I sound petty. I realize it's only been about four months since we got the bad news, but I really just want the hurt to go away now. Not in another six months or another year or five years, but now. And I want it to go away for good. I don't ever want to feel all of this sadness and anger and disappointment again. I'm tired of it. It's exhausting. Between that and losing our dog last August, I'm just sad and spent. I think it's drained it all out of me. I don't care about blogging or taking photos or running or setting any goals. I really just want to zone out for a long time until I can re-enter my life without the hurt there following me around. I know that'll never happen. All that I experienced last year is part of my story. It's a sad chapter in the book that is my life. It has molded me into the person I am today. I'm not the same girl I was before we started this journey. How could I be? Anyone who has successfully or unsuccessfully taken that journey through IVF knows that it changes a core part of your being. It pushes you to the emotional edge. It deepens your longing. It ignites fear and anger. It tests your patience. It creates a great sense of wonder and amazement in the creation of a life. It is life-changing.
My head tells me I will get through this slump. I always get through the slumps. But my heart tells me it's going to take a lot longer than I thought it would to heal. And even then there will be a little scar. A reminder of the heart-wrenching little chapter in my life. But for now I just want the hurt to go away. Just for one day I'd like to not think about it at all.
That's me being honest. That's me being me. A beautiful mess.
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
-Amy Grant
8 comments:
First off, I love the pictures. Second, you made me cry. My heart aches for you and your lost dreams. I went through my own life changing experience a year and a half ago. I was in that funk for a long time -- not really caring about anything, not really wanting to do anything, etc. I know what you mean about just wanting to be out of it. I feel the same way. Sometimes I feel like I'll never be able to get past everything. I know I will, I know you will too. Use your support system.
-- It's totally not petty and you're very brave to bear your soul.
That Amy Grant song is just beautiful. I just want to say something to make it better and yet I know there is nothing to be said. But I care, Andrea. I know this year has been heart wrenching and difficult. I know you are changed and I know you are trying to be ok already. Tell God. Tell people. Don't shove it down. When we have dreams that are seemingly denied we need to mourn them. We need to process them. We need to be heard. We all take different paths and have a variety of difficulties but in the end, hurt is hurt and pain is pain. And that I can relate to. I pray the very best for you. (((hugs)))
I weep every time I hear that Amy Grant song. Weep.
I think it's because I just think it's so wonderful that God desires, he WANTS, to hear our cries. It's OKAY to be sad and to struggle. Life isn't always roses and it's OKAY to not put on a happy face all the time. You just have to know that He is there and ready to hold you. I'm so sorry you've had such a rough year. Praying for you. xo
I wish I had some beautiful, wise words to share but I just want you to know that my heart breaks for you. And I'll be praying for you.
Oh Andrea. I keep retyping my comment because I have so much I want to say. Although, we did not do IVF, to have Max was a struggle. One of THE most challenging, trying times in my life. This made me cry because your words brought back emotions that I remember. Ones that are still there. Do not be ashamed of what you feel, lay it all out there. After a while, I could not hold in what I felt anymore. And it felt good to get it off my chest. I just want to give you a hug. Thinking of you, praying for you.
Oh Andrea, your words made me cry too. I'm so sorry. I don't have the right words either, but I'll pray for a bit of peace and comfort for you today. Hugs, xoxo
I can't even imagine. I'm sorry you're struggling. You definitely don't sound petty and I don't think there's any statue of limitations on how long you "should" grieve something like that, what you feel is what you feel. Hugs.
Your images are beautiful Andrea and so are you. I'm so sorry that you have to bear this trial. I wish I could make you feel better. I do have one suggestion. Don't get rid of Max's clothes. Sift through them. Pick out your favorite ones. Cut them up and make them into a quilt. I did it with my kids' clothes and I love them. I love to wrap up in them and remember the way they looked when they were babies. Hold on to what you can, and know that you aren't alone.
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