Infertility - Out-of-Body Emotional Experience

Sometimes infertility feels like an out-of-body experience.  It is like you are looking at yourself experiencing feelings and hormone changes and saying, "that is not me." Sometimes it seems like other people see emotions in you that you really aren't experiencing and then when you do experience that emotion it surprises you unexpectedly. It is out-of-body, because you say to yourself, "I am not really experiencing this."  At times it seems as others experience your pain more than you do and the pain you really do experience no one else understands.  It is like certain emotions are imposed upon you while other emotions that are real are left unacknowledged. 

We lost our baby and now people express care that is long overdue.  We've been grieving this baby the last five plus years, it just has now become tangible.  It now is real for them in a way it has been real for us all along.

There are some close friends who get it and have been incredibly supportive the whole time.  But this Mother's Day is the same as previous Mother's Days.  I don't want to be acknowledged as a mother just because I actually got to temporarily carry our baby in my womb long enough to earn the positive pregnancy card.  I've been carrying a child in my heart for a really long time.

I want to hide under a rock and disappear.  People are going to share their grief greetings.  They are kind of late.  I don't know how to respond when it is over-dramatic for them.  I appreciate the gentle side hug from the husband of one of my best friend's today.  Acknowledgment without drama.

What makes this baby different than the numerous others I have possibly loss over the years?  A positive pregnancy test.  The trauma of the doctors appointments.  But what about all of those times my cycle was late and I felt a loss?  Don't those lives matter too?



I don't want people feeling sorry for me now who haven't felt sorry for me prior to this point.  I don't know how many of our babies are in heaven. I know of three for sure.  I suspect four to six.  Those lives matter too, or at least to me they do.

And yet, I know I am so very blessed, because I haven't had to hold my child in my hand and say good-bye.  I can't imagine what that must be like for the women and men who have had to go through delivery knowing that their child would not be able to go home.  That would be devastating.

I still can picture the images of the infants I have seen who have been held by a parent or parents in the hospital and left there to be cremated.  Those images break my heart. 

Love to those who have had to say that difficult good-bye.

They say that one in four couples have experienced miscarriage or stillbirth.  Add to that those who have gone the path of abortion... and you would realize that all of us know someone who has not been able to take their baby home. 

Why don't we talk about this publically?  Why don't we acknowledge the loss? 

I think of these people's stories and I feel guilty for "calling in sick" this weekend. And yet I know it is healthy to create the space to grieve, although it feels very selfish.

My loss isn't that great - and yet it is great!  I am in pain - and at the same time, I am doing fine.  I am numb - I am overwhelmed with emotions.  I am moving forward - my heart is heavy.  This grief comes in waves when I least expect it. And yet, I feel guilty for taking time to just be.  And yet, I am fine.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Palm Sunday School Lesson for Teenagers

High School Sunday School Lesson on Dating, Marriage, and Sex

Youth Bible Study for opening of Evan Almighty: Genesis 6-8 - Noah and the Flood