They say there are two sides to every story. Can there be two sides in our own minds as well? Today, I struggle with two truths, the hard one and the hopeful one.
Two months. Seems like yesterday. Seems like a lifetime ago. Today, my mind is constantly thinking about the look on my husband’s face when the ultrasound tech said, “Sorry, there is no heart beat”. It kills me, but that is what I see. I can imagine the look on his face 6 weeks earlier when he was seeing a heartbeat pounding at 173 beats per minute, but it doesn’t hurt any less. That look tells me a hard truth. My husband was in love. My husband’s heart is broken. He loved us more than he will ever be able to say or express. My man, ‘the strong silent type’, will never break. So I have to. The hard truth is we have to do all of this again. We have to hope for the best, and be prepared for the worst. The hard truth is that our love for each other can’t create new life, no matter how badly we want it to. The hard truth is that some days are good (really good) and then some days the grief knocks the wind out of me and I forget all of the things in life that I have and that I should be thankful for. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t focus on anything but the one I lost. Even the idea of another child is almost evil. I wonder how can I even consider another baby? How can I possibly love a new child more than the one I lost? The hard truth is that infertility has made me spiteful and bitter. I am happy for my friends who become pregnant easily but I constantly struggle with “why me?” Their successes are constant reminders of my failures. These are the hard truths that happen with infertility and miscarriage.
The hopeful truth is more difficult to find. I have to look for it in a place that I didn’t know I had. I have to unlock my best self. I have to be strong and I have to fight. When I have no energy left I have to seek even the tiniest glimmer of light on the horizon. Some days I just don’t want to, so I won’t. Other days, I have to or I might just lose myself to this evil force that controls my every thought and my every move.
The hopeful truth I have to find is that the look on my husband’s face that terrible terrible day would never have happened if he hadn’t known the love a parent has for a child, something he has never known before. We CAN try again. It CAN work! That is a very hopeful truth! The hopeful truth is that love doesn’t make life, instead it sustains it. My husband sustains me and I him. The hopeful truth is that the good days can out-number the bad and they do if you let them. Infertility does make me more thankful for a life that was growing inside me. I know that without the struggle I would take for granted every little thing. The hopeful truth is that there is enough love in my heart for a dozen children and that is why I so desperately want to be a mother. The hopeful truth is that I AM A MOTHER too. My friends may be holding their children in their arms but I know God has mine in his. I may have nothing to show for my efforts, but my heart is full. Full of love for my Rio. (Embryo) Full of love for my precious husband. Full of love for God who has blessed me with this terrible disease.
The choice is mine. What truth will I embrace today?
goingfrombadtogood 