Do you remember the days when your entire beings were consumed by their infertility, your quests to become parents, or your grief knowing that it would never happen? Maybe you are still there. I am pleased to say that it passes, in fits and starts, till one day you can barely remember it. Even if the pain returns, it is no longer that all encompassing emotion it once might have been.
However, my recent reality, with my husband's serious diagnosis and prognosis, has reminded me of this. It helps me to understand that it will pass, eventually, whatever the outcome, although the fits and starts might last the rest of my life. It helps too to remember the nature of grief, of worry, of irrational thoughts, and know that it is all normal.
Sarah Roberts of The Empty Cradle posted this the other day, and it spoke to my situation now, and in the past, pretty perfectly.
A poem, by Brittin Oakman, a Canadian poet:
I lied and said I was busy.
I was busy; but not in a way
most people understand.
I was busy taking deeper breaths.
I was busy silencing irrational thoughts.
I was busy calming a racing heart.
I was busy telling myself I am okay.
Sometimes this is my busy -
and I will not apologise for it.
Some of my thoughts are irrational, but many are not. They are just me coming to terms with a new situation. But still, silencing some of them definitely helps. That is a skill I have learned through infertility, and I know I've written about it here a lot. And I do not apologise for doing it again. I also might not be telling myself I am okay, because I'm not, really. But I am telling myself I can get through it. Even if I don't want to. So actually, I am not lying if I say I am busy. I am doing all I can to keep myself together.
Someone suggested recently that maybe I should be doing a lot of things that need to be done now, rather than putting them off. Yes, getting them organised now would be great. But I just can't. The same person was surprised I couldn't read much lately, as they thought escapism would help. Escapism would help, but so many books are so full of gloom, of difficult circumstances, they are not escapist. Besides, reading takes concentration. I hadn't seen this poem at the time, but I am thinking maybe it would be an idea to send it to them.
Anyway, I leave the poem for anyone it might help feel validated and less alone.
Oh, I love that poem! Thank you (and thank Sarah) for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteI found it very hard to read for quite a while after I lost my baby -- as you noted, too hard to focus. (I was never able to finish the book -- a thriller with a supernatural twist -- that I was reading when I went to that fateful doctor's appointment.) Once I was able to start reading again, I read a lot of non-fiction for some reason -- although I do remember reading "Bridget Jones's Diary" and laughing out loud (on public transit!), when I thought I might never laugh again. I had a conversation about this with Jody Day once (and about reading more non-fiction than fiction) and she said it's likely because when we're dealing with grief, it's difficult to hold empathy for other people's problems, even if they're fictional/imaginary. Made sense to me!
Sending you & your dh big (((hugs))).
Thinking of you and your husband, and sending so many good wishes and gentle strength your way. I hope you both feel surrounded by love and care, no matter how far apart we are.
ReplyDeleteDear Mali, I love that poem! Thank you for sharing. It definitely resonates with me. Yes, I do remember. And I am sorry for what you and your husband are going through. I will keep you in my thoughts!
ReplyDeleteIn tough times, I remember being unable to read as well, even though I have always been an avid reader. When dealing with life-changing, difficult circumstances, I guess it makes sense that one would not "need" any additional (or artificial) drama. Whatever you are dealing with may be more than enough to process. Sending all my love!
Oh, I love that poem. And I think that "the right thing to do" in any circumstance you face is WHATEVER THE RIGHT THING IS FOR YOU. Right now, in this moment. Especially when you are hit with so much so quickly. Everybody processes differently. Everybody needs different things for soothing or just surviving. Trauma brain is very real. I am sending you all the love in the world...💜
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing that poem. It's great.
ReplyDeleteReading, paying attention, concentrating, caring... It all goes out the window during times of crisis. You are doing what you need to survive right now.
Lately when someone has suggested to me what I should be doing, I turn it around and ask them about it. For example, Them: You should get outside more. You should exercise or at least walk and get some fresh air. Me: Oh interesting. Have you been getting outside? What are you doing for exercise? (Ok, it's my mom. That's who I've been doing this with. Lol!)
Surrounding you with love, Mali. I hope you feel support from literally around the world. <3