Tuesday, October 17, 2006

As a matter of fact I'm NOT sorry

There are some days that find me desperate to wallow in self pity. I'll have used up all my mental resources, and the only thing left to do that I know will please me (and appease the beast of grief within me) is to feel sorry for myself. Mope, sigh, stare out the window and wish I had someone else's life. Someone who didn't happen to breed only dead children.

I don't feel like crying. It's not that I'm on the verge of tears. I just feel like acknowledging this ungodly shit storm is the right thing to do. Some days it refuses to be ignored and pretending it doesn't exist doesn't work.

It's there. It's right there. It's always fucking RIGHT. THERE. I can't escape from the sorrow of three lost babies or the frustration, guilt and shame of not being able to get pregnant again.

I know there's more to my life than this. I'm not just a walking uterus. I'm married to my soul mate and our life together, shit storm aside, is one blessed by the heavens. And I'm grateful for that - and for all the things in my life that are so unquestionably good, pure and true.

But the ugly facts remain. And they haunt me. I can keep the attic door closed on the ghosts for a little while, but on days like today when the skies are gray and filled with endless drops of rain, I have to unlock the door and let them come screaming the hell out.

This part of my life isn't pretty. It's awful. It tears me apart on a daily basis and forces me to work harder than I've ever had to work in my life just to stay above water.

Some days I slam the windows shut on the sounds of crying babies. Some days I slam the windows shut on the sounds of children playing. Some days I turn away when I see a mother with her child. I can't bear to hear what I've lost. I can't stand to see what I don't have.

This is the ugly truth.

I'm so lonely for my boy and so bruised and battered by the happiness around me that continues to stay frustratingly and achingly out of my reach.

And today I'm not going to apologize for it.


Erin said...

Don't EVER feel you need to explain your feelings. You feel how you feel and letting it out in writing is very theraputic and I think it's great that you don't hold it all in and pretend everything is perfect.

I do wish it was perfect for you and for everyone but that's not reality so why pretend it is.


Lisa P. said...

You have no reason to be sorry for feeling the way you do. (((hugs)))

Nikki said...

Kristin never apologize for the feelings you have, we all come to expect that some days you can manage and others are just terrible reminders of what you dont have, I cannot imagine or put myself in your shoes to know what it feels like inside trying to smile on the outside when deep with in your whole world is crumbling around you. Your right about one thing though you married your soulmate and you have a wonderful DH who would do absolutly anything for you...(((((HUGS)))))

Denise said...

Wishing a little sunshine your way. ((((hugs))))

Margaret said...

And you shouldn't have to feel like you need to apologize for your feelings.

They are yours, they are real and the only way you will be able to function ouside the shit storm is to have that occasional pity party! BTDT and I've got the t-shirt too(though not the same circumstances).

Thank heaven for your beloved. I'm so glad you have him.


Lori said...

(((hugs))) Kristin. There is NEVER a need for you to be sorry for feeling the way you do.

Rosepetal said...

"Some days I slam the windows shut on the sounds of crying babies."
Done that

"Some days I slam the windows shut on the sounds of children playing."
Done that too

"Some days I turn away when I see a mother with her child."
This morning I stared transfixed at the mother, the father, the baby, the pram, the diaper bag, the baby bjorn, what type of shoes the mother was wearing and the length of her jeans. I suddenly realised what I was doing and had to force myself to look away. It was triggered by the fact that the pram was the same one we bought.

As you say, it's ugly. And it's the truth. No-one needs to apologise for the truth.


Laura said...

I read your blog everyday and I usually don't leave a response, most of the time because I'm just so struck (in a good way) by what you've written that anything that I have to say just doesn't sound right. Before I sat down to catch up on some blogs, I was cutting out fabric for a new purse and was thinking to myself almost exactly what I just read in your blog. Really, that happens a lot--I identify with you so much--but lately, I've been particularly tortured by the same thoughts that you expressed today. That there is more to life than this, this mourning for our babies, but why can't I find it? And do I even want to? Take care, Kristin. Thank you for this post.

kate said...

There is nothing wrong with a little self-pity now and then -- i've said it before and i will say it again. It is better to feel it than to try to push it away and mask it. Hopefully tomorrow will be an easier day...(((((hugs)))))

Woman_Who_Knits said...

I also have many "slam the door shut, I don't care about your preganancy problems, leave me alone to wallow in my infertility" days. I never feel sorry for those days. We all deserve to be mad at some of the shit life has dealt us.

It's just human . . . .

Carol said...

You shouldn't ever have to apologize for it. I'm so sorry for you losses.

Sherry said...

I, too, relate closely to this. But, don't ever think there's a reason to apologize for how you feel. You feel the way you do because you lost something so precious and dear to your soul.

((((HUGS)))) to you, K.

Ann said...

Nor should you apologize for letting the ghosts out and wallowing in this hell. It IS hell! It's like some demented cosmic joke. And dammit the world needs to understand this better. It is a full on battle to find strength and joy. It's really hard to look towards any sort of rewarding future. It's how you feel and it's as real and understandable as those children's right to yell and play and their mothers' rights to be pregnant.

It's a terrible irony that we have to turn away sometimes from somethng we ache for so deeply. I'll be damned if someone concludes that I'm an embittered soul who has to be shunned for feeling this way, either because they can't handle my pain, or they fear acknowledging it.

(((Big HUGS))) Kristin You are such an incredibly expressive writer. Thank you for putting this all into words.