What seems to most women like such a natural part of life has become the challenge of my life. I am consumed with it. "Don't you have a hobby you can do?" a friend asked me earlier, trying to coach me to get my mind off this ever-present task. Working on getting and staying pregnant is my hobby. And it takes so much time out of my day, I really don't have time for anything else.
I like to read, and often read more than one book at a time. Currently, I am reading two books on fertility, one Wayne Dyer book on being present in life (like that will happen any time soon), and I just finished An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination, a book on a woman's experience of delivering a stillborn baby at term. I'm not nearly the fun, cool woman I once was, am I? Jeez- I don't think I would want to hang with me at a party. How depressing would that be? Don't worry- I won't be at a party near you. I can count the number of social gatherings I have been to since the baby died on one hand. Ok, actually, half a hand. 3 in six months.
Where has my life gone? 4 years ago, I was happy as a clam (what does that even mean anyway?). I was filled with hope, and knew that life was going my way. Now I am here, at this cross-roads, and I don't know how the fuck I got here. Life is so short and I wonder how I will feel down the road at all the pain and suffering I put myself through. Will it be worth it? Will I regret it? Now is not the time for these sort of questions.
I want a baby. Is that too much to ask for? I want to nurture and love and teach- I want to mother children, watching them grow into men and women. I want to pass on the legacy that was passed on to me. Is that legacy biological, necessarily? I don't even know any more.
I carry around a box of "miracle cards" that a friend gave me for the holidays. Every time I get to this point, I reach for one and pop open the surprise little saying that has the power to make me smile or cheer me up. Here's the one I opened today:
"How simple it is to see that we can only be happy now, and that there will never be a time when it is now now." Gerald Jampolsky (founder of the center for attitudinal healing, aka CorStone)
How fitting. I know it's just a choice, but it doesn't seem so easy right now.
Still here…14 years later
2 years ago
7 comments:
Oh Lisa, you're right, it's not always easy.
And I'd hang out with you at a party - as long as it was near the bar.
This is tough....my thoughts are with you.
Liz
I also tend to read more than one book at once. I like to have a novel going that I read at bedtime, and I usually have some kind of book about what ever is going on in my life at the time - be it gardening or educational theory. And it turns out that lots of people I know also do this - it can't be that weird!
As for everything else - how can it not be a hard time? It makes sense that it isn't where you want to be, because who would want that? I hope you'll find what feels right.
* buys Zil and Lisa a drink from the bar*
Don't worry, you, me and Zil can all hang out together at parties, as Zil said, near the bar!
I know what you mean about not knowing how you got here...I remember being happy, and the the world came to an end and now I'm here...
Hang in there!
Hope
People like us are the only people I would want to hang out with at a party.
And in the 9 months since the twins died, I have been to exactly zero parties. People really tend to avoid inviting me to things like that...gee, I wonder why.
I LOVED that book "Exact Replica..." It was just spot on.
It's just supposed to be so much easier. I always just stop and wonder why this is so difficult for some of us - some of the most brilliant, wonderful ladies I have known. Why us? It was supposed to be so easy. How did we get here?
I find myself reading light stuff because I just don't want to weigh myself down any more than life is doing on its own.
I have been a awful friend. I hope that I don't lose all my friendships because of IF. The one relationship I've worked hard to maintain is my marriage, and that is solid, but oy.
Its one week until my due date--even though I miscarried at 8 weeks, which is not the same as what you've been through, I was 'pregnant' for long before it actully happened, it feels as if I lost a full term baby. One thing I've held onto from hearing the author of An exact figment...was that they named their baby, on his birth certificate, pudding, just as they'd called him when he was growing. I call my baby Sparky, which lets me grieve him (In my imagination it was a him) as real, not as a cluster of cells blah blah blah.
I would come to your super bowl party, if I went to things of that sort, because your menu rocks.
Post a Comment