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Sunday, September 9, 2012

Grief changes.

Today, I am still not a mother.  [http://whatpalebluedot.blogspot.com/2011/09/grief-is-different.html
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Miscarriage and infertility are strange animals.  They are loss.  But for me at least, the loss isn't as much about the thing or person that I lost, but the future that will not be.  It is a set of milestones and years and adventures that will not happen.  Whatever future I have, even if it includes children, that set of might-have-beens will never be attained.

I realized something the other night.  This is not so different from losing a parent as a young child.  The whole future ahead of me has always been and will always be different.  Of course, now that I've reached adulthood and am approaching my 30s, other people--normal people--are losing their parents.  And the difficulty of saying "my father died" is even more easily erased.  So now I'm in the strange place where after saying this, I say "It's been a long time" which is an easy way of saying "I'm okay" and "It wasn't normal for him to die."  It both minimizes and exposes the loss in a curious way.

The hardest part of grief for me is how very alone I feel.  I may be honest about my losses, but I don't readily share the pain.  Most of the discussion of this has been online, which isn't real for me.  I need to share with someone in flesh and someone who is actually in a place in life where the depth could be meaningful to them.  It doesn't help me in the slightest to be faced with someone who can't imagine what I'm going through.

But, as it is, today-ish I should be having or planning a first birthday party.  I could be talking about vocabularies and awkward steps and finally being able to safely put a lovie in the crib.  I could be celebrating the close of the most dangerous year of life and how much easier it will get from here.  But I never got that far.  And I don't know if I ever will.

I bought myself a bracelet as a memorial.  It's lovely.  It also looks nothing like a memorial, which means I don't have to explain if I don't want to.  I have told a few people, and showed them, but I don't have to tell everyone.  I can wear it to work and no one will know.

My father's birthday was a bit over a week ago.  The last week has been very difficult.  I did a lot of crying.  But today I'm okay.  You never know how grief holidays will feel.  But today I am making cupcakes and everything is going to be fine.


I share my duedatethatwasn't with a friend.  I hope you can take the time you need today.  Thank you for lighting a candle for us.

1 comment:

  1. just wanted to say, from one young, infertile to another, that i'm lighting a virtual candle and thinking of you today.

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