So apparently I’m unintentionally embarking on a bit of a mission with this miscarriage stuff. Admittedly it’s all-pervading in my world right now, but I’m still keen to share this aspect for the future reference of anyone who finds this wanting to understand more about how it can affect a gal.
Today was a stark (and lovely) contrast to yesterday.
There were no tears, instead my sense of humour floated back to the surface and I was able to engage in the day very positively. My college friends rallied round (despite the fact that they’re all blokes and vary in age from a few years to nearly a decade younger than me) and I felt very cared about, understood and sympathised with.
My tutor also turned from ‘distant teacher-type figure’ into a warm and surprisingly sweet person when she found out what had been going on (I informed her that I wasn’t able to attend the next x number of Monday afternoons to attend the counselling I set up yesterday) and she said how sorry she was and offered her office as a refuge if I ever felt overwhelmed and needed somewhere to hide and “have a little weep.” She even offered “I can’t do anything to help, but I could pass you tissues and bring you cups of tea.”
This week (if Husby cannot get our ideal treatment) marks the last week we will be able to try for a biological child with all systems as optimal as they could be, without medical intervention. It’s a sad week (given the potential for this to be the window closing on a non-invasive, non-clinical chance for a bio child), but so many people are holding us in their hearts and prayers that it’s easier to contemplate. Still horrific, but slightly easier. Sometimes.
The ups and downs of grieving the past and the potential future are astonishing. One day I feel like crawling into a corner and never coming out, the next day everything’s remarkably sunny and the challenges we face seem diminished. Today I had such a laugh with friends that I almost felt like a bit of a fraud; as if I owed my situation a bit more down-in-the-mouthness than I was mustering (none).
My wonderful friend Meanderer posted her wonderings about how she’ll find being old. I am looking forward to it. I don’t want to wish my life away by any stretch of the imagination, but I love the idea that I’ll be able to look back on so many years of experience and see the highs and lows in perspective; that’s something I think I’m really lacking right now. One day I hope to look back and see all the disparate threads of life come together in one glorious tapestry and say “Ohhh, that’s what it was all about.”
One of the sweetest things I ever saw was a crinkly little old lady and a wrinkly little old man walking down the road together, holding hands. I hope Husby and I get to do that. It was a very touching moment. Innocent yet intimate, as I presume the shared memories of the storms they weathered, the joys they found and the mountains they climbed together were all reflected in that one simple act of devotion and togetherness.
In the meantime, I look to an uncertain future. I know that it will be scary, disappointing, upsetting and probably prove hard work to keep going from one day to the next, but it will also be exciting, full of pleasant surprises, joyful and glorious. I shall try to meet it with an even mind and an expectant spirit.
To briefly plug the joys of adoption (people’s shared experiences of this are also proving very helpful and encouraging), I cannot recommend this video highly enough. It. Is. Beautiful.
|I can’t apparate a video link here, but click this text and that should do the trick. Enjoy.|