Saturday, March 14, 2009

I am blessed...

Hi All,

I've been feeling like I am blessed the last week or so. And I have to say it's nice to be back to this feeling.

This is a very personal entry so feel free to stop reading here and move onto other things. I promise to resume my normal programming after this and get back into claying things.

On November 26, 2007, my life changed. Nine years after first starting to try, and five years after having given up, we finally got pregnant. I was 43, my husband was almost 50. It was a shock and the emotions were all over the place. Three weeks later, just about the time that I was feeling complete and utter elation about finally managing this task that so many others make look easy, we were told that there was no heartbeat. A week after that, on December 26, I spent 14 hours in the emergency room waiting for an anaesthetist to free up so that I could have a D&C because my body wasn't willing to give up the precious gift we had finally been given.

And that single month dominated my life in 2008. I have been humbled by how difficult the journey through grief has been. I am eternally grateful to have a wonderful family doctor. Her words to me when this all first started happening were "this is going to be so much harder and take so much longer than you think it will". I am ashamed at how little I understood the devastation of the loss of an unborn child before having gone through the experience. While I knew that I never wanted to have a miscarriage, prior to it happening to me I thought it was something you got over in a few weeks. How wrong I was and much of the year feels like I spent it in a fog-like state where I was only half of who I normally am.

I mourned.

I grieved.

I cried. Tears and torrents. I cried.

I mourned.

Prior to the month that changed my life I was an "I am happy and I am blessed" person. Last year I lost ALL of that. I worried that I would never get back to that person. There were times when I did not care if my life continued. A normal grief process apparently, but I didn't know that. We are not taught how to grieve, nor how to respond to grief in others. Some unknowingly and unintentionally said the wrong thing, or sometimes worse, didn't say anything at all, adding to my pain.

But throughout the year others gave me moments of brightness. I held each one in my palms and the tiny moment of brightness kept me from the deepest of the darks when I needed that protection most.

My husband. My family doctor. My family. My friends. New friends. Strangers. The blogosphere. My grief counsellor. My moments of brightness.

I wasn't always in an emotional state where I could appreciate them at the time, and many times I stamped my feet and wiped my tears in frustration that I couldn't seem to break through the invisible barrier that separated me from where I wanted to be.

I've finally reached that point where the barrier is broken and I've squeezed through to the other side. I've still got some scratches. And there may be a few more to come.

But lately, I've been feeling blessed once again.

My husband. My family doctor. My family. My friends. New friends. Strangers. The blogosphere. My grief counsellor. Thank you all. Words aren't enough to convey the depths of my gratitude. It is for you I write this entry.

And welcome back blessedness. I've missed you.

7 comments:

Renee said...

Dearest Sandy:

I am so sorry for the loss of your hopes and dreams to have your own baby to hold.

I am one of those people that took having children for granted, but don't forget I was only 19.

I know better now.

I am happy that you are coming through, never getting over, just coming through that loss.

You are wonderful Sandy and I can't wait to meet you.

Love Renee xooxo

Louise said...

We never know what is behind the smile.
I sympathise with what you went through. I undestand what the grieving process is so I can also understand what you have achieved and are so happy to have found back.
Vive la vie!!!

2 Good Claymates - Dave and Carolyn Good said...

Sandy, Thank-you for sharing what was in your heart -- I had no idea -- I don't understand what you went through but I know it couldn't have been easy. We're so glad you are feeling better and broke through that cloud of hurt and pain. The only way to go from here now is up! You are in our thoughts and prayers!
Carolyn and Dave

Vivi said...

hi Sandy !!
oh, this is so good to read that !
I'm so happy for you, really ... keep that forever now, forever !!!
kisses

Cindy Lietz, Polymer Clay Tutor said...

Sandy you dear sweet thing. My heart goes out to you. You have done something very touching by sharing such a personal part of your life with us. Take care of yourself and know that there are many who love you. ~ Cindy

Deathstar said...

Thank you for your coments to Sharon. You really touched me. So often when I think I can finally lift this blanket of grief off my shoulders than another wave of disappointment and heartache enters into my life and I forget about joy again. Infertility and waiting to adopt has taught me a huge lesson, but sometimes I get tired of the constant yearning.

loribeth said...

I also came here via Sharon's blog. I travelled a somewhat similar path... we were married 10 years before we began ttc. I did get pregnant when I was 37, on my own, but lost our daughter to stillbirth at 6 months. Went through infertility treatment for a few years, but I too had to stop. Like you, I was having anxiety attacks & was frightened of what the drugs were doing to my physical & mental health. With both of us in our 40s, we felt just plain worn out & decided not to pursue adoption. Thank you for your kind comments. Those of us on this road are too often silent -- it's always a comfort to realize there are others out there who have been through this... and still wind up leading a pretty good life!