Dealing With Grief

I watched the Sex & The City movie on Sunday night for a second time and this time around, I was struck by the similarity of our grieving processes. The causes of the grief may be different, but the processes are fairly similar. Yes, we all deal with grief differently and we move through the various stages of grief at different paces, but at its very core it seems similar.

There are only a couple of instances in my life that have caused me this type of grief, the first one was loosing what I, at the time, believed was the greatest love of my life and then of course all of my miscarriages & my failed IVF’s. Oddly, the grieving process in all of these was pretty much the same for me. I grieved my lost love in the same ways as I grieved the loss of my babies. I grieved in the same way (not necessarily the same time lines) but in the same way as Carrie when Big stood her up at their wedding.

I recall withall of my miscarriages and with the loss of my “great love” that I cried uncontrollablyfor the first day or so, that I couldn’t eat, think or talk, all I could do was cry. The next phase of my grieving is sleeping. I become weighted down my the heaviness of my grief and look for the sweetest escape in sleep. There’s just one problem with that escape… the sleep is wonderful, its freeing and healing, but each time I woke up, in that second before becoming fully conscience, the weight of my grief would coming crashing down on me as I relieved over and over again the losses that had caused the grief in the first place. Even now, when I think about waking up from sweet slumber during periods of intense grief, I’m gripped by a feeling of sadness, remembering what it was like to become awake, to lie there and remember again and again what was causing the pain in the first place, to experience the sense of loss over and over again.

The other part of Carrie’s grief that I so related to was when she was on her honeymoon with oher friends in Mexico, when she was finally through the sleeping phase, she was sitting out on the deck with her friends and she asked them: “Do you think I’ll ever be able to laugh again?”. That statement brought tears to my eyes because I so related, especially after my last miscarriage and also after my last failed IVF, I truly believed I would never laugh or smile again. I felt like if I tried to laugh or smile, my broken heart would crumble into a million little pieces. That was life without joy and it was quite possibly the most painful part of the grieving process. Perhaps not as intense as the crying or sleeping phase, but definitely a scary phase, to feel dead on the inside that was by far the scariest. Certainly not the most painful because I couldn’t feel anything, but scary non the less.

So here I am, planning & preparing for my 5th IVF or my 1st Frozen Cycle, depending on how you look at it, and to be honest, a part of me is truly afraid. While I know I will have the strength and courage to get through it again, I’m just not sure I WANT to face the possibility of having to go through that extremely painful grief process again.

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  • Reply Lea White

    Hugs, prayers and thoughts!!!!

    August 11, 2009 at 9:57 am
  • Reply Abbey

    I watched it too Sharon, I thought the same. I’m dealing with the process right now and it’s so hard. I had a little cry when she asked “will I ever laugh again”….I wonder the same. Praying you dont have to go through this again!

    August 11, 2009 at 10:10 am
  • Reply Cindy

    I’ve only been through it once…and after the pain of just that once I sat my husband down and asked him if we could start the adoption process and walk away from all of this…because I never wanted to feel that pain again.

    Given that we are about to transfer our frozens, you can guess what his answer was….and I’m terrified.

    I just want to be happy.

    August 11, 2009 at 2:00 pm
  • Reply ^WiseGuy^

    Dear Sharon,

    I have never seen that movie (dropping jaws), but I can so relate to watching something on the TV and finding corollaries to myself.

    And I know that you have been dealt so many in-tandem blows, that it is tough to be hopeful.

    Gather your strength. You need it. And all the very best!

    August 11, 2009 at 4:20 pm
  • Reply Sandy

    “I felt like if I tried to laugh or smile, my broken heart would crumble into a million little pieces. That was life without joy and it was quite possibly the most painful part of the grieving process.”

    I think, Sharon, that you have captured that sense the most poetically and eloquently way possible. Those two sentences are your best writing (although all of your writing is great). Well done. I think these two sentences should be sent to everyone dealing with the grievers as its such a succint way of stating the devastation of grief.

    For me it was the yo-yos of grief that were the problem. I’d have a few good days and think I was through the worst of it and then back to the bad days which seemed to be an additional slap in the face. The process felt never-ending at times. But the numbness was also terrifying.

    BTW, check out my blog from July 28th and see the stone that dh gave to me. I think you’d appreciate it.

    Huge hugs and warm thoughts as you embark on yet another journey. I’ll be cheering for you on the sidelines.


    August 11, 2009 at 6:31 pm
  • Reply samcy

    *sigh* my friend, this grieving process is the hardest part of this journey cos it has the power to debilitate us. I’m praying and hoping that your FET is the real deal.


    August 11, 2009 at 7:11 pm
  • Reply monica

    I find it really interesting, too, to read and see and hear about other people’s grieving, and recognize patterns that I see in myself. I don’t think I ever went through a sleeping-phase. Mine was sort of the opposite; I kicked into task-overdrive, suddenly obsessed with throwing myself into house projects, creative projects, cooking projects, any projects I could get my hands on. I started back to work way too soon, took it way too far, and hardly allowed myself a second to stop, breathe, think. The thought of thinking was just too scary, so I avoided it. One thing’s for sure – I think fear of taking on yet another risk is totally normal, don’t you? Man oh man, I get that one 100%. That’s the problem when you know that things don’t always work out; you never get to have that blissfully ignorant and hopeful baby-making attempt again. SUCK.

    ((HUGS)) Shaz!

    August 11, 2009 at 7:45 pm
  • Reply becomingwhole

    It can be very hard to jump back in the water once you know how cold it is…I have found, though, that the mind tricks I play on myself can be worse than the water.

    Not that mind tricks would be worse than any grief you would experience. I think you are extremely brave and you have done amazing and hard work with yourself and your grief since your losses.

    Now’s about the time I’m wishing for fairy dust…I’d sprinkle some on you and this FET…no more baby grief ever…


    August 11, 2009 at 9:51 pm
  • Reply Kristin

    Thinking of you and praying hard that your dream finally comes true.

    August 12, 2009 at 3:20 am
  • Reply Elana Kahn

    What adorable dogs! I’m such an animal lover… I’m hoping that soon you’ll get to hear baby feet along with those doggy feet soon.

    Also, go check my blog, I gave you an award:

    August 13, 2009 at 12:10 am
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