That's what this is.
It takes what it takes to get through it. And it takes as long as it takes.
My frustration yesterday was from not knowing what it was fully and from rushing it.
My goodness, it's been 11+ years...the term 'rushing it' seems ridiculous. Personally, I don't feel like I've been ready to grieve until now.
And the other thing I realised yesterday, too, is that I'm grieving for more than one thing. Of course it's the loss of children and a broken dream - all that, but it's other things, too. I can't explain them all right now, but...fine, I'll try.
The loss of expectations.
The loss of relationships.
The loss of friendships.
The loss of future plans and future memories.
The loss of my identity - school teacher, mother.
The loss of time spent trying to make something happen that hasn't happened.
The loss of time in general.
The loss of control and anything to do with family planning.
The loss of parts of me and my personality that I miss. I'm different - I don't function like I used to.
The infertility journey for me has brought about a lot of loss - I've grieved for it all and I still do. I'm trying to see things as they are - they're not a part of my life any more and I need to just let them go. It doesn't mean they don't mean anything to me, they do, but I can't hold onto the past, present and future all at the same time. I can't live three lives at one time - my past life, my present life and my future life.
Four - I've actually been living four - my life as a mother. I'd imagine children in the house, how I'd run things, what I'd feed them, what we'd do on weekends, where we'd store their school bags...all that stuff.
When I first dreamt of children, I'd think about those things...like, it's normal, it's what everybody does. But years later it becomes almost like a fantasy life and one you can never reach. No wonder I push it away now.
I've tried to be a part of that world, but I'm not.
I've tried to become a part of the club, but I've been refused admittance.
It's been the cause of much grief and angst; no wonder I don't want to know about it anymore. No wonder I push it away.
And it's okay. Whether it is or not, it is to me. I'm telling myself it's okay to feel the way I do.
I know myself; I won't be like this forever. I'll work through it, but I needed to say...this is what it's like today. This is what it's been like for the last months...years.
It started with a big shock of, "We can't have kids" and then other things (listed above) started to go, too. The pain and grief has been added to over the years. With us, with me, it's gotten worse.
And that's why I want to get through it, let it all go and move on. I have to.
It's time, but I know I still need time. I think I need time to grieve in private, actually...now that I know what's going on.
Lucky for me it's Day 31.
Lucky for me the computer is in the shop (on phone now - hard to type).
Lucky I've got work to do to keep me busy and occupied.
Lucky I've got God to show me these things when I can't sleep and to tell me what I need to do.
In the lounge room.
At the eleventh hour. Right before the dawn of a new day...
(A new calendar day - His new day starts at sundown, but He went for the calendar day option this time)
At 11:45 pm I got up really agitated and upset and went straight for my Bible. I opened to a pre-marked Psalm and read it over and over until I calmed down. I'm guessing that took about 10 mins.
For the next 20 mins I read from two other books and the light bulbs went on. God explained (through those books) what I was feeling (grief) and what I needed to do in the midst.
It's not lost on me that all this happened as one day flipped to the next.
Is it not always darkest before the dawn?
It wasn't the literal dawn, but it was the eleventh hour (God's favourite) on Day 30.
Ah, yes, in the last 15 mins He snuck some answers in.
And I wasn't out there for answers; I just wanted peace.
I got that; as well as some answers.
You can't tell me He's not there.
You can't tell me He doesn't care.
You can't tell me He doesn't get it.
He's got it.
You hear me?
He's got it.
The question is, do you get that He's got it?
Do you get that He's got it for you?
DO YOU GET THAT HE'S GOT IT FOR YOU?
Yes, He does.
Yes, He does.
Yes, He does.
You just need to get that. It may not change anything, but it'll change you.
I guarantee it.
A :o) and a (hug) for you.
PS. I just wanted to say that in amongst the loss, God has added to our lives in other ways. Punch Art and crafting have been huge for me. Cody - huger. Other things too - some individual, some for both of us. He is good; that's all that matters. And He has plans for us.