I think I’ve turned a corner. Things have started to feel brighter and I seem to have a little more life to me. I think it’s a combination of things — the fact that I started a new year with my birthday and with that came a gift from Tim (a ring) that symbolizes all that I’ve been through this past year, a connection with someone who knows what all this feels like, and some hope from a seminar I’m going to attend recommended by another blogger. They’ve all added up and I’ve even started having feelings of wanting to try again. Except I’m aware I’m not quite ready. The fear is so strong I’m not sure it could be overlooked at this point, but at least it’s lessening.
Of course, I say all this and today on my way to therapy I was feeling light and the smiling wasn’t being forced, and the moment I walk in the door the tears fall and don’t stop for the entire hour I’m there. It amazes me the amount of sadness I still have, despite all the healing I think I’m achieving. But I guess that’s how we keep on going in life, we just learn to deal with the sadness, to cover it up when we need to and let it all out when we’re given the space to do so.
Last week a blogger that I’ve read for years announced she was expecting her third child. She was only 6 weeks along when she told her readers, and even now she’s only 7 (I know, I’m impressed with my math, too) and all I can think is “don’t get attached” or “wow, that was brave to announce so early.” I hate that those are my first thoughts. That I can’t just feel confident, that even for a stranger I expect the worst. And you know what the worst part is? The part that I’m sure many of us feel that have been through this, but don’t ever want to say? My very next thought was that a part of me hopes she loses it. Because maybe then someone else would know how I feel and I wouldn’t feel so left behind in the world of pregnancies. Isn’t that just awful? I’ll understand if you go away and never come back. But before you go you should know that I don’t really feel that way, because I wouldn’t even wish this on my worst enemy. I tell myself it’s because I’m human and as humans we don’t want to be alone in what we feel, and I hope that that’s why I have these awful thoughts. Because she’s a wonderful woman with struggles of her own and I hope nothing awful like this ever happens to her. I’m happy to go it alone the rest of our lives so that no one else has to feel this way. But 7 weeks? 7 weeks has been ruined for me. In fact, anything before 40 weeks may very well be ruined for me.
So, um, yeah, it’s a good thing I’m still in therapy.