I’ve made things sound a lot better than they are here. Everyone has seemed to praise my ability to think of things rationally and stoically where in reality that’s what keeps me from tears, grief and anger.
The truth is I’m been going through a lot of that recently, particularly anger. I’ve been pretty bitter and resentful these last few weeks. There has been a lot births and birth announcements in the last few months and none of them are mine. It’s hard.
I have an amazing group of friends who are amazing mothers and about 99% of them are mothers of 2+ children here on earth. 50% of them have lives and coping mechanisms that allow them to be more open about their fertility than I do. Most of them are younger.
I feel like an old, poor, broken hag next to most of them. I feel so ugly inside and out for resenting their beautiful families, the time they get with them, the jobs they don’t have, the choices they do have, etc.
If you are one of those friends – I’m sorry for my bad thoughts these last few weeks, rest assured that there’s a little, glowing place left in my heart that still holds the love for you and your beautiful children and it will never go away.
It was suggested that I pray the Litany of Humility to help get through the nasty emotions. Let me tell you it’s a tricky one, but Sunday night I managed to say it. It felt like my heart was knotted up in my throat. Never have a I felt like something was physically making it hard to pray before.
The next morning I read thru it again and again I focused on the one section I was having the most difficulty with.
“That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease …
That others may be chosen and I set aside …”
It is a struggle because I don’t want that in regards to my family at all, and it is so difficult to accept in any way.
So I shared that clip in a private, custom message on Facebook with the caption “Grumble, grumble… stupid litany … grumble, grumble, bitter, bitter..” Because, quite frankly that we exactly what I felt about.
A few minutes later we were off to the swimming pool where I got what was coming to me.
It was an explosion of pregnant women with their children. It was hard to see, I almost broke down in tears right there.
When we got home there was a package waiting from a dear friend – a lovely note, a cd of religious music and a book about coping with miscarriage.
Lesson learned. Thanks God.
I haven’t given up hope yet, I still feel hopeful that we’ll be pleasantly surprised before the year is out – rest assured this is just where I’m at right now.
This is just a chapter – not the whole book.