I can’t find if I have written about this before. But for me it is a reminder of the need to accept feelings of joy and sadness at the same time. To know that we can hold both in the same space at the same time. To see this as the start of healing, and know we'll be okay. After my first ectopic pregnancy, my husband and I went to France. I even took steps to ensure I would not be pregnant, as the last thing either of us wanted was a repeat ectopic in a strange country.
We flew in to Paris and picked up a car at the airport, and set off for a month. We relished the freedom of going where and when we wanted. We knew that if we did have a child once we got home, as we hoped, this freedom wouldn’t be possible for a long time. We had the most wonderful time, exploring most of the country, seeing unexpectedly gorgeous scenery and fairy-tale villages, eating amazing food, shopping in markets, practicing my French. We explored the chateaux of the Loire Valley, stayed in famous wine villages, walked through medieval palaces in Avignon, and had a magical day in the Tarn Gorge, choosing a beautiful picnic spot by the Tarn River under the “new” bridge (that was still hundreds of years old) and the willows, eating the most delicious ripe sweet strawberries we had found earlier that day in the market at Uzes.
The sadness from our ectopic pregnancy remained, but all this time later, I don’t actually remember feeling it most of the trip. Except for once. I sat beside the Dordogne River at beautiful La Roque Gageac, and felt overwhelming emotion at the beauty of the old village curving around the river under ancient cliffs. I thought about the fact I wouldn’t be there if we had not lost our pregnancy. I felt the tears coming, but realised that it was possible to feel joy at the same time as feeling grief. One didn’t cancel the other out, and feeling joy was not a betrayal of the one you were grieving. It was rather a chance to snatch a piece of peace and happiness in the world, even in the midst of sadness. A chance to offer our souls some replenishment, and to know that we would survive.
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| La Roque Gageac |
Dear Mali,
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful post. While I am sorry for your loss, I am also glad you were able to enjoy the beauty of France. The picture is simply gorgeous.
This is something that infertility and loss have taught me as well: that I can feel two seemingly contradictory feelings at the same time or shortly after each other. And yes, I think when you are grieving, it is vital that you can also gain strength during the beautiful moments.
Thank you for sharing this story!
Much love from Switzerland,
Elaine
Dear Mali, thank you for sharing this precious memory with us.
ReplyDeleteDear Elaine, thank you for your kind comment - I could write exactly the same thing.
Much love from sLOVEnia,
Klara
This is so, so beautiful. It can all exist at once. What a beautiful place to experience the grief and the joy at the same time. Thank you for sharing this memory!
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