I’m reading an incredible book – Silent Sorority by Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos, I’ve just started it and I’m a slow reader, but so far I’m loving it. Pam has a way of using words to describe her feelings that speak right to me, that I relate to and I feel connected to and I understand and feel understood!
She refers to her soul as bleeding after attending he best friends baby shower and I know there have been times where my soul has bled along this journey. My soul bled when I hosted my sister in laws baby shower, two days after getting confirmation of my second miscarriage. I remember how my face hurt from the effort of smiling, while playing baby shower games and pouring drinks for everyone, I remember the feeling of the blood pouring out of me, of cramps and heart break while smiling and trying to feel like I fitted in, like I belonged, my soul was bleeding. I understand/know what it feels like to have your soul bleed to the point where all you can do is lie on the couch and stare into space. I know what its like to lie there and even your brain is to tired to think, to be so thirsty but not have the strength to sit up and take a sip of water, to reach over and press the power button on the remote, to reach over and turn on the lamp, to have my soul bleed and drain me to the point where I would rather lie there, in the dark, cold and thirsty but not have the strength to help myself.
I love the part of the book where she realizes that her Grandmothers arthritis was a metaphor for her infertility:
I realized that arthritis was a great metaphor for infertility. Sometimes it was a dull sensation, barely recognizable in the course of a day, but it was always there. Other times, like Grandma Stella, I ached too much to dance. It was becoming clear to me that each day brought a different degree of discomfort. Of course I much preferred the days when I could dance and sing and feel good, but the pain always managed to find me again, delivering sharp pangs. On those day I was reminded how much effort it took for Grandma Stella to dance.
I think every one of us that have walked this journey, regardless of how long or how short, can relate to that metaphor. I know I can. I know that in the past year or so, my ability to dance and be happy has greatly increased, that my good days far out weight my bad ones, the pain ridden ones. I’m not sure it its because I’ve learned to live with the pain or if I’ve become really good at living in denial. But I do know that there are times when the pain is really unbearable and its that degree of pain that scares me as I head on into this FET cycle. My last failed IVF was excruciatingly painful, I’m terrified of facing that degree of pain again and yet the very fact that we are in fact trying again brings with it pain and hope in varying degrees all of which play havoc with my mental stability and emotional state. Since my scan on Monday I’ve been extremely tearful and excited. I’m so excited for the possibility of trying again, I guess that’s what hope does to us? I’m very emotional because I’m fearful of the pain that could be waiting to envelope and overwhelm me just around the corner.
But that’s the nature of this journey isn’t it?