Anyhow, I have been thinking about grief because I recently read a very thoughtful and well-written blog post talking about grief. In her case, she's referring to her miscarriages. This is a grief I do not know, as I've never been pregnant.
Therein lies the source of my grief, of course.
Well, she talked about the famous five stages of grief, a bit. We all have heard of them in our psych classes, I'm sure:
- Denial (this isn't happening to me!)
- Anger (why is this happening to me?)
- Bargaining (I promise I'll be a better person if...)
- Depression (I don't care anymore)
- Acceptance (I'm ready for whatever comes)
Generally, I see these associated with the grief over loss of a loved one. In fact, the author of this theory originally based it on her research into people who were, themselves, dying.
I realized as I read her post that I literally go through this very process on a monthly basis, as I deal with IF. It wasn't mind shattering, but it was a quiet acknowledgment of the grief I spoke of a few posts ago.... the grief of a BFN. The grief over a visit from AF. The grief over seeing a happy family with lovely children - or even simply reading a blog post or a Facebook status referring to happy family life.
Ar is my family, and we are happy. As I'm sure you've noticed if you've read much of my blog, I'm crazy in love with him. But therein lies that problem - I want so much to have his children, our children. I was reading a blog today of a lovely woman, who is married to my dear, dear friend's brother. I looked at her pictures and read her sweet, funny words - and through the parts about their kids, I see so much of my friend's brother in those kids. (I don't really know her, so I can't really see that part of them as much, though I know it's there, of course.) Point being, it made me just burst into weepy tears (it's amazing that I never run out of tears) because they are all just precious and lovely, and and and.... I could attempt to eloquently wax philosophical here, but the bottom line is... I WANT!!!!!
Some wants I feel bad about, knowing they're temporary or superficial. This want... this want is noble and lovely, right? This want is a God given desire, and the most basic and natural of wants - my body is supposed to be able to do this. I don't even have the luxury of telling myself I'm just a petty and jealous person and to just get over it. I mean, I probably am jealous and petty, but not about this. No, in this case it's just love. Love for Ar, and love for our kids who, though, I've never known them, somehow my heart already loves them fiercely. Ugh!
It's known that the stages of grief aren't necessarily chronological stages, and that one can become stuck in the stages. For me, I do seem to go through the stages (maybe adding anxiety in there), but with IF, the cycle restarts itself every - single - month.
Sometimes more often than that - sometimes it barely takes anything at all to kick that off again, like reading a blog or seeing a cool family out somewhere...
Yes, I do often reach a point of acceptance, but only for that cycle. That's when I have to suck it up and start again. This cycle, I'm already on CD6. Tonight will be my 5th night of shots for this cycle. I've accepted the BFN and have started back up again. I've lost count of how many cycles it's been, but you can refer to my TTC ticker at the top of this blog to see how long we've been "trying."
So my question is, will I ever actually experience acceptance? If I have a kid, probably - I'll never forget the prolonged trauma - but I'll consider myself a survivor. Is that acceptance? If I don't have a kid - and let's face it, the odds are against me - I'll still be a survivor, but will I ever truly accept childlessness? I guess I'd have to define what acceptance even truly means to me in that context. I don't have the answer to that. The description of the stages that I pasted above uses the phrase, "I'm ready for whatever comes." I do feel that one way or another, I'll survive. My life is full of love, faith, and good things - I'll be ok, but I can't see how I'll ever feel whole. Or maybe I should say, I can't see how I'll ever not feel this hole.
Thanks for a thought provoking post. I've been reflecting on this alot, as I think about how I would cope with a childless future. I think it's tricky, because I think there is a sense where contentment is possible, but it still sits along side the emptiness. In Proverbs a women who is "barren" is said to be never satisfied, and is compaired to a desert or a forrest fire! I guess I'm wrestling with what contentment in infertility looks like, and how God's care for me will sustain me through it. And how it looks for me to be godly through it, without feeling guilty about feelings that are natural and God given.
ReplyDeleteI guess acceptance doesn't always mean the grief is gone :(
But I am still praying that you and I will be survivors!