Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Grief

About two weeks ago I experienced for the sixth time a pregnancy loss. I struggle to write anything else after this first sentence. I am not sure who really knows about what happened to me and my husband. Sometimes I feel like people can see this insurmountable grief etched into my face. Do they notice the passion that is missing from my eyes? I do not know.
I do not know how to write about this experience. I am not sure why I write about this experience at all. I do know that right now I am having a hard time. It might not be evident on the outside, but there it is. I have so much anger, so much grief, and so much sorrow within me that I do not know what to do with it. Sometimes I want to cry (okay, I want to cry a lot), but I do not feel like I can. I do not want people to see me cry. I am embarrassed by it, I guess. Yet, I know that I have to express this pain if I am to be able to do anything because right now I am in limbo.
I am in limbo. My passion is frozen. Have you ever seen a child fall down and for a moment he or she is stunned? Suddenly the pain comes, and the child begins to wail. I am stunned. I am numb and about to enter a world of hurt.
I look at that number six and wonder how stupid I have to be. Why, for the love of God, did we try again? That was just plain stupid or crazy. I could kick myself.
People make kind but utterly stupid comments. Yes, I am sure that your niece’s aunt’s hairdresser experienced a miscarriage and now she is the mother of five. Maybe they do think that I am just crazy enough to keep trying. Of course when you say that this was the sixth time, they usually shut up. I love answering the questions. Yes, we have gone to a fertility expert. I am a freaking miracle of modern science. They cannot explain the why. Yes, I am sure your daughter in law went through that too. Uh huh, uh huh, sure. I have heard these stories now six times. Enough all ready! Let’s just say that this really sucks.
This really sucks. I am once again going through those lousy stages of grief. I cannot control or stop them. I listen to U2’s song “One” over and over again in the car and cry. I have no idea how my husband is doing, and I am not sure how I could comfort him anyway. Frankly, I am not sure I care, at the moment. I think that I am holding it together, but I just might start throwing my shoes and writhing on the floor. I am thinking about it. I am thinking about it.
I guess all you can do is cry. I cry for what might have been. I cry for what is. I cry for what cannot be. I listen for the voice of God. I listen for some purpose in this disappointment and sorrow. I do believe that it is there, but I do not know what it is. I cling to the Rock of My Salvation even as I feel crushed beneath it.
I want to say that I am not okay, but sometimes I am okay. I want to say that I am finished, but I am not finished either. I am not finished with life, with faith, with love, but I am really annoyed right now.
Right now is a time of endurance. I endure and keep walking. I endure and keep waking up each morning. I endure until I can do these every day tasks again, with joy. I endure until I hope. I know that hope is coming, but I am here right now. I know that hope is coming and that soon I will hope until I witness. I will hope until I witness and meet my Redeemer face to face.

4 comments:

Beth Royalty said...

I'm so sorry

Mh said...

Wow I am sorry as well and you are right this just sucks

the parson said...

There are times when you should cry. This is one of them.

The Wright Family said...

Sucks. Not alone. Still sucks. 7 pregnancies, 2 children. Had to tell a new hair guy that my youngest is 9, but I had a miscarriage less than 2 years ago- that is why my hair is thin in the pregnancy pattern. Sucks. They can't tell us why either- why 1 miscarriage, 2 successful pregnancies, 4 more miscarriages. Expensive tests. No why. I am a priest in Ohio. You are in my prayers.