Tag: sadness
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April Is a Promise.

“April is a promise that May is bound to keep.”

I’ve always loved springtime.

There’s just something about the smell of the earth and rain and new green things poking through the decay of fall; something about the symbolism of a colorful rebirth after a long, cold season of gray hibernation.  Thunder and lightning burst open the skies and settle the earth, and warm rains wash the whole scene anew.  The runoff from April showers wind their way in pretty little ribbons and streams down the streets and sidewalks.  Birds and rabbits lend their songs and scampers to a blossoming seasonal backdrop in a state of perpetual forward motion.

There’s something about the spring that just makes me feel at peace in the midst of a great turbulence.

Spring gives me roots, just as it gives me wings.

It grounds me, and gives me hope.

Emerging from the cold darkness makes me appreciate the warm sunshine, and the happiness I feel this season helps me better understand the despair I’ve felt in seasons past.

Gratitude for a warm day or a stubborn crocus poking through the last of the snow does not come from a general appreciation of these beautiful things, however.

Gratitude comes from want, from need, from being without.

I’ve been without.  I’ve struggled.  I’ve wanted and needed and cried and pleaded for things outside of my control.  I’ve been denied, I’ve been angry, and I’ve been on the verge of quitting so many times.

Once I was even given the gift of a wish granted, though it was a short-lived dream from which I was forced to awaken.

Mine was a dream that was meant to be fulfilled in April.

This month is not an easy one for me for so many reasons.  While it may be a month of celebrating life, rebirth, and growth, for me it also symbolizes grief, death, and loss.  The loss of a dream, of innocence, of hope, will stay with one for all of time.  I certainly have not fully recovered, though time has passed by, and life has gone on.

Even being an eternal optimist does not shield a person from a lingering sadness and a strong association with a date, a month, or a time of year.  Storm clouds may bring showers that help the whole world grow, but sometimes it can be so hard to see the silver lining for the rain driving into your eyes.

Spring is that time for me.  Hope and despair marry, and one becomes the other; a tornado of contradictory feelings from which there is no shelter.

April always leaves me confused – sad and happy, hopeful and grieving, warm and cold – but one undeniable fact about this time of year is that it never fails to remind us of what could be, what may be, and what will be.

The rain and the sunshine gently clash, and though one could easily destroy the other, they sometimes strike a compromise and find balance.  Out of that balance comes a rare beauty, a symbol of strength that’s meant to be appreciated, a promise that’s meant to be kept.

I may spend this month feeling like I’m being followed by a volatile spring storm cloud, but I know that hope is still alive, and that the sun will still shine.  As time passes, and we hurtle on toward warmth and growth, the world will explode into a riot of color, I will find gratitude again, and I will know that peace may find me yet.

And if I’m lucky, maybe my dream is still out there in the breeze…

If there’s a chance that April’s promise can still be kept, I will turn my face to the wind, embrace every blustery day, and remain open to whatever the chaotic, ever-changing seasons of life blow my way.

And for all the wild and unpredictable weather of life, one thing is for certain:

I will flourish.

I will bloom.

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Fertile Vortex II: Return of the Baby Bumps

I don’t know about all of you, but it seems to me that things in life happen in big waves.

In my mid-twenties, my friends and I all started pairing off into more stable relationships… moving in together, joint checking accounts, co-pet-parenting, and all that jazz.

That was followed shortly thereafter with engagements.

Then bridal shower after bridal shower after bachelorette party.  Dress shopping, wedding planning, alterations, rehearsal dinners…

Weddings.  Upon WEDDINGS.  UPON WEDDINGS, OMG.  (Seriously, the year I got married, I was in three other weddings, attended five others, threw four bridal showers, two bachelorette parties, and that doesn’t even include the four bridal showers and bachelorette party of my OWN I attended.  GAH.)

I was on track with the curve of adulthood back then.  Everything in life was coming together, and my friends and close-in-age family members and I were all set to start moving onto the next step…

Babies.

Of course, you’re here, reading this blog, so you know that this particular step is where the husband and I got a little hung up.

…And five years later, we still are.

So our friends and family members went on to start having their first babies.  That was the Great Baby Influx of 2009-2010.  It was a time whose insanity could only be rivaled by the Matrimonial Stampede of 2008.  It was a time of chaos and joy for all.

Well, most everyone.  We were of course very happy, but a little… put out, I suppose you could say, that our own baby influx was taking some time to ramp up.  Somehow though, as does life, the madness waned, and we were no longer drowning in newborn baby high tide.  We breathed a little easier, and got to work.

We survived those next three years by aggressively pursuing treatments, in a desperate attempt to catch up to those who had left us behind on the parenthood track.  You know the story… We tried, had a small success, but ultimately failed.

That brings us to now.

I have been feeling for some time that the tide is rising again… I think the time of the second (and in some cases, third or fourth) babies is upon us.  All beware the approach of the Fertile Vortex: Part Deux!  (starring Jake Gyllenhaal!)

Dun dun DUNNNN.

No, seriously.  People in my life are having second and third babies all over the place right now.  Even some of my fellow Infertiles are fighting their way out of secondary infertility and giving their first miracles a sibling or two!

Don’t get me wrong, babies are a blessing (and no offense, but the babes of Infertiles are an even slightly bigger blessing!), and good news is GREAT.

There are some of us, however, that can’t physically take good news without a healthy portion of sadness, though…

I wish I weren’t one of those people, but alas, this is the life I’ve been dealt.

As if you hadn’t had enough of my vague metaphors, I feel just like I’m afloat at sea with no view of the shore.  Every baby announcement that comes my way pokes a tiny hole in my boat, and I’m staring to lose hope that I’ll ever make it to dry land.  I fear some days that I may drown in good news.

I will end this morose entry just by saying this:  You guys, this blog, this blessed outlet… you all are my salvation in a rough and unforgiving sea.  Hope may not be visible some days, but because of you, I don’t feel so alone in my struggle for survival.

I’ll make it.  We all will.

 

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Bittersweet

My best friend is having a baby.

Have I mentioned this?  I must have at some point…

Anyway, she found out she was pregnant about a week before I did in August, making her due date about 10 days earlier than mine was.  It was exciting to be pregnant together, even though this was her second child and she and I had started trying at the same time nearly four years ago.  We were even talking about having our ultrasound tech friend perform our gender scans at the same time so we could find out together what our babies would be.

And then I miscarried.  My baby died.

Thankfully, hers is still healthy…

Now I feel like it’s hard to talk to her… Not at all because she makes me uncomfortable about her pregnancy – it’s quite the opposite, in fact.  When we talk, she doesn’t bring up her pregnancy at all, and I feel like a jerk when I hang up for not asking how she is feeling, or what’s been happening in that regard.

I know she doesn’t think I’m a jerk, and I know she gets how awful the miscarriage was, and I’m sure that she understands how difficult it must be for me to hear about her milestones when I know that’s where I should be – would have been – too.

I got a text from her last night, letting me know that baby # 2 is another little girl.

I thought Gummy Bear was a girl, too.  They would have been besties, just like us.

I was so sad last night… I try really hard not to have pity parties for myself, but that just caught me off guard.  I know that Thanksgiving is going to go by in a blur because of the move, but I think that once we are settled in the new house, Christmas is going to be a little tough.  Holidays that are all about children are difficult to navigate for us Infertiles, and even more so for recent miscarriage survivors.

I had plans for this cute pregnancy test Christmas tree ornament and everything.  Ugh.

Maybe I’ll just gold-plate a Menopur vial and hang that on the tree…

At least December will bring back the cycling routine, and with it, the feeling of working toward that take-home baby once again.

To my friend, if she is reading:  I love you, and I love your kiddo and that new baby girl you’re carrying.  Life is hard, and you’ve known me for most of mine.  I will get better, one day.  Until then, please stick with me and know that I’m really trying.

Every day I walk that razor-thin line between “happy for you” and “sad for me”.

Someday things will be less bitter, and more sweet.

Someday… hopefully soon.

 

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Summertime Sadness

A safe space where I discuss the racing thoughts in my head, personal struggles, and day-to-day activities while struggling with mental health and mood disorder issues. My personal goal is to reduce the stigma that comes with mental health and mood disorders, by talking more about it.