Another Miscarriage, another post.

As usual, it seems I only come here with the negative posts … Mostly because there’s not much in the way of progress or positive ones in regards to our fertility. We started seeing a specialist with Boston IVF in May and began IUI in June. For my own sanity, uterine lining and wallet we decided to skip a month in between each IUI. The plan was to do a few and then reassess if I didn’t get pregnant. It had been about 2 years since I was last pregnant when we started IUI. We hadn’t been actively trying (read as: obsessing) but we hadn’t been not trying either, so we were interested to find out if we could still even get pregnant! Turns out the IUI worked on the third try, 6 months after beginning this new process.

Fast forward through all the definitive, beautiful feelings and pregnancy symptoms I was having last week. I found out the day before Thanksgiving (13 dpo)that I was pregnant. What a thankful Thanksgiving this one was! I was over the moon because typically the only symptoms I have in early pregnancy are spotting and cramping and this time I had neither! Finally I was feeling pinching and pulling and bloating and back pain and I couldn’t have been happier about it! My HCG started out low, which was concerning, and fairly typical. I tried not to get myself down too much because the symptoms I was feeling reassured me that things were progressing. Finally! Maybe the last 6 years, and all the heart ache and miscarriages were just a bad dream! Or at least in the past. Maybe those were all just miscarriages out of bad luck and genetic abnormalities. Maybe there isn’t actually something wrong with me!

My second HCG came back two days later (15 dpo), my numbers doubled from 26 to 58. Great.  test again in three days. 159 (18 dpo).  Still okay, I guess.  Doubling in 48-72 hours, sure, but low.  So low. I didn’t feel great about this. My pinching and pulling had stopped, but maybe that just meant everything had settled into place. I had some minor cramping during the night of 20 dpo, but nothing painful or even warranting of concern. It just felt like stretching.  Though, I had been having insane night sweats for the past week or so.  While on Clomid I would get these crazy, puddle making, drenching night sweats about once a month before my period. I think it was either estrogen or progesterone levels adjusting. i suppose I figured it was good news this past week, thinking my progesterone levels must be sky rocketing! Well, after finding out my level on had dropped from 159, to 59 on Thursday, it seems night sweats are just a symptom of hormones adjusting up or down.

Today my levels have dropped to 33, and I have finally started to spot … I stopped counting how may dpo we are.  What’s the point?  I was fairly hopeful for the first week. No cramps, no spotting and I actually broke 100 on my hcg which I’ve never done before, and I’ve never not had spotting or cramping in the first week. Actually, I’ve only made it a whole week once before, and my levels peaked at 79, then.  I hadn’t felt hope in a while, and I really do feel blessed that I got to feel pregnant if only for a few days.  That was a first, too.  It was nice to dream again. Unfortunately that just makes it all the more painful when things go south.

We’re really angry now, more than anything. Quoting my doctor from a couple of months ago, “The goal is to get you pregnant and keep you pregnant.” Yes.   But if that’s so, what did you do for us? Nothing. Sure, you got us pregnant quicker than we could have on our own, but my husband and I both knew how it would end. We’ve seen this before. Did you need to see it for yourself? Why weren’t there other tests run? How come no progesterone was prescribed right away, or even tested for? I asked for it and I got, “You’re already pregnant. we don’t test progesterone if you’re already pregnant?” WTF? Thousands of other RPL sufferers and their doctors say otherwise. We’re mad that we went through this whole process for the same outcome and no new knowledge.  Why did we do that and pay all that money? For another disappointment and no answers. Why didn’t they do more during my cycle or before becoming pregnant to give this one it’s best shot?

We’ve got another appointment in a couple of weeks to sit down and talk about other plans. Im adamant about testing for MTHFR among other things before going into another round of conceiving in any way. I have a feeling they’re going to push for IVF, but why? IVF has chances of failing as it is, and if we have no answers, it’s like putting water in a bucket we already know has a hole in it. I very much doubt that my last 5, 6 or 7 (Who’s counting anymore) losses have all just been chance. There has to be a link and I’d like answer or at least a strategy before throwing more hope and money at other methods of conceiving. Conceiving is not our biggest problem.  There’s something else going on here, and if we don’t know what that is, or at least try to figure it out, that water is just going to continue to pour through that hole and we’ll be right back here in a few months, a lot more discouraged and a lot more broke.

So frustrated. So angry. So tired.  Six years is a long time to go through anything. Six years is especially long when it’s so full of major grief.

different story, same story

Almost another year has come and gone and some things are different and some have stayed the same.

I’m in a much better place both mentally and physically. I am just 7lbs shy from the weight I was when we first began this process almost 6 years ago. I’ve lost the 55lbs that I had gained somewhere between multiple miscarriages and depression over the years. I feel better in a hundred different ways! I mean, I’m still technically overweight and I’d like to continue this weight loss but now some things are changing slightly in my life, so we’ll see if i’ll be able to mentally handle the pressure.

We are still childless, and while the thought of that is upsetting and frustrating to me, I feel like I’ve come a ways out of my grieving dark hole since our losses. While we haven’t guarded against it, we haven’t been pregnant in a couple years, or experienced a loss. I think that has helped given me some space and distance to fully feel them, and begin to put myself back together. I haven’t felt so much like myself in five years. I’ve been enjoying life, and experiences and I needed this break.

I was reluctant to rejoin the child seeking masses and schedule an appointment at a specialty center at the beginning of the year. I was afraid of the procedures, medicines, diagnostics, and insanity of it weighing on my mind incessantly. We started the process early this spring and it was slow going at first. A lot of weeks in between appointments and follow ups. Suffice it to say, everything about me and my partner is normal, and working perfectly … I mean, except for the part about why the heck we cant get pregnant or stay pregnant. No one has answers for that, yet. I’m wondering if mentally or physically my body has had enough with losses and let down and has built a little wall inside my body. “None shall pass.”

Now comes the not so fun parts.  We’ve started the process to have an IUI this month. First, this feels like it’s happening fast because all of our previous appointments were weeks apart and we just decided this last week, and tonight I will be starting meds. I honestly hate taking any medicine. The plan is to do a few cycles, try to get pregnant again, and see if I can keep it this time. Because it’s been so long since our last pregnancy/loss I think the new clinic wants to see if anything has changed as far as, hey, maybe I can actually sustain life now, or maybe they can figure out what’s going on if I lose this one. Either way, it seems like no big deal to everyone there. Like, “Hey, just do a little IUI, get pregnant and see what happens.” Like it’s really so easy to 1. take meds and deal with side effects. 2. get pregnant. 3. stay pregnant. 4. have a miscarriage 5. deal with said miscarriage with Rhogam/DNC/grief whatever.  Oh yeah, and update all kinds of doctors and nurses on that process as I go. Yeah, totally easy. Nope.  BUT, I’m pulling out the big girl panties again and going for it, and trying not dwell on what I cant control, which is pretty much everything.

I have felt an old familiar anger and frustration and self pity bubble up recently. I thought I had dealt with these emotions, but apparently they were just out of sight, out of mind. I’m frustrated that I have to let everyone and their sister know about my period, my cycle, my losses, make phone calls and appointments, deal with insurance, and payments and schedules for me and my husband. And, it doesn’t help that the doctor is almost an hour away from my home, and about an hour and a half from my husband’s work. Not the simplest task to coordinate. It’s all completely inconvenient and it sucks. It really sucks. I think about how awful it must be to be ill, and to feel ill and to have to go to treatments and make appointments and how terrible that must feel. That would be an actual nightmare.  Then I feel even more awful about having these feelings. But truth is, this does suck, and it is inconvenient, and I do feel like I’m living in a nightmare sometimes.

This was the rabbit hole I was trying to avoid, but there is no way out but down. I’ve got to go down.

 

Honestly if it were up to just me I probably would have tried to foster or adopt by now. I just want a child and genetic connection doesn’t feel as important to me as the pain and drain of the past 5 years and a potential childless future. BUT marriages and partnerships are about compromise, so here we are.

it’s been a long time.

I don’t necessarily think that ignoring or dismissing something is the best coping strategy, especially when healing and growth need to occur.  I can say that for nearly a year now i’ve avoided this place (too many familiar sad stories), and i’ve stopped living by “What-ifs”. I’ve stopped thinking about wanting to be pregnant and our losses. I’ve stopped planning and arranging my life by pee sticks and days of the month. I’ve started to push myself to feel happy for friends and family with children (though not quite fully there).  I’ve liked their photos on Facebook and even smiled at a few diaper commercials.  I’m not in denial.  if I give pause and remind myself I’m easily flooded with painful emotion.  For the past almost year I’ve work to push these feelings aside … I’m not saying that’s the healthiest thing to do, because maybe it’s not, but my day-to-days have gotten easier. Maybe a little bit of denial is helpful in healing.  Maybe my mind needed/still needs a break. Maybe the constant reminders and sadness were keeping me stuck. I had to release some of that.

We haven’t been really trying to get pregnant for … I cant really even remember. Maybe a year and a half, maybe two.  I’ve stopped pre-natals, I’ve stopped testing and counting days. We haven’t prevented it from happening either.  Of course, nothing has happened, which is both good and bad.  Bad in the sense that, hey, it’s not totally normal to NOT get pregnant after having unprotected sex for a year and a half.  Good because that means I haven’t had to face the heartache of another miscarriage for a while now.  Actually, it’s been so long that i’ve started considering throwing my hat back into the ring.  Maybe we should start trying hard, charting days, and taking vitamins. My biggest and most real fear is that I will tailspin back into a pit of despair that i’ve worked really hard to scratch, claw and climb my way out of. It’s such a slippery slope. One ounce of hope or heartache could unravel any progress I’ve made … If I’ve made any true progress at all, I guess.

It’s just hard to think about going back down that rabbit hole. In this past year I’ve made some real positive changes in both my physical health and mental well being. I had gained all this weight because of the depression caused by 5 consecutive miscarriages and 4 years of trying for a live baby.  In this last year i’ve lost 20 of the 55 lbs I had gained (still have a ways to go!) I’ve slowly started working out and doing yoga. I’ve got a job that I really enjoy where I’m learning new things everyday. I’ve opened up more with my family about our struggles with recurrent pregnancy loss, and I find that sometimes a day or two can go by without sadness and thinking about my painful desire to have children. I have actual goals that aren’t centered around conceiving and maintaining pregnancy. I have interests and hobbies. I’ve been gentle and kind to myself. I’ve started to feel like me again.  Like, really me and not someone who’s trapped in a constant state of sorrow and cant see past the next five minutes. Not someone who’s trapped in a world of blocked friends on Facebook because she cant stand to see another birth announcement. Not someone who’s too scared to have an iced chai because of the caffeine or doesn’t want to plan a distant vacation for fear of flying pregnant. Not someone who can’t toast with champagne at a friend’s wedding. Not someone who gets jealous of people starting families much younger than she tried. Not someone who’s angry all the time. I’d really like to not be her again and I’m really worried that if we start trying harder then I might disappear into that abyss.

I have an appointment for my yearly with my GYN next week.  Truthfully, I haven’t been to see any doctor in over a year and a half  and I haven’t seen her in much longer.  I’m sure we will talk about things and maybe she will have some advice, maybe not.

I think we’re just kind of waiting for something good to happen to us. I know that’s unlikely, it doesn’t really work like that. People work hard for the good things they have in life and sometimes that includes children.  I think we’re just tired and waiting for lightning to strike.

Back in the Swing of Things

It seems I always come here when I am needing to distract myself from hope. I guess the fact that I actually feel hopeful is a good thing.  We had taken some time off from once being VERY active in trying to conceive. For the past 9 months I’ve relaxed a bit.  It was hard at first.  Trying to have a baby for 4 years straight will do that.  But the past 3 or 4 months, I honestly had not even checked my calendar or marked any days. I’ve drank alcohol on special occasion, taken hot baths and stopped using my fertility monitor.  I lived.  And it was nice.  I mean, I still had my moments, but overall I think I’ve done a HECK of a lot of healing these past 9 months.  I’m surprised with myself.  Healing just sort of snuck up on me.  I’ve even started eating better and got back into light exercise. Thats huge because I was so down and out I honestly hadn’t cared about myself in a long long time.  I’m even getting a hair cut next week!!!

With that being said, last week was one of the hardest weeks of my life.  Last week we said goodbye to our rescue pup.  I know in my last post I was angry and upset and I mentioned being unsure whether I could ever really feel the same for them after….well, I did.  I healed.  I surprised myself.  And I began to love her with all of my heart.  She needed me, and I LOVED that about her.  But, because of the stress of the two dog’s energies, we had already made the decision to rehome her.  I dragged my feet for over a month.  Going back and forth, back and forth.  The dogs were doing great together now…. but that one fight they had, where she ended up at the emergency vet with severe puncture wounds was always in the back of my mind.  What if I decided to take a shower, or walk on the treadmill and I forget to separate them.  What if the mail lady knocks on the door and sets them off.  Something so little could escalate so quickly, and if I wasn’t nearby to stop it quick, it could be deadly.  So, inevitably we decided for her safety, that rehoming her was the best option.  I spent the days leading up to her drop off cuddling her and giving her anything she wanted.  I love her so dearly.  The day we dropped her off at her new foster home was the worst.  I was an absolute mess.  She shook in our back seat.  I think she could feel my nerves and how upset I was.  She knew, and that was the worst…..  She needed me and I was giving up on her.  I feel so much guilt about it.  I’ve been tormented by thoughts of her, and her anxieties for the past week.  I’m sure she is adjusting the best she can….its just that we were finally making some progress here.  If I had it my way I would have kept her forever.  My husband was ready to give her a new home months ago.  She was attached to me, not him.  Finally, I gave in. My biggest reasoning was her safety ( though, we do need to refocus on having a family, and that couldn’t be done under the stress of another potential dog fight…especially if it was anything like the last.)

With all that, my period was due 2-3 days ago.  I’ve had a 34 day cycle before, after a miscarriage…. but I’m assuming this kind of stress might be causing some delays.  Though, I do feel some things happening in my abdomen, my back is killing me and my breasts are not sore like they usually are during PMS. I’m just speculating here, but I do feel that all too familiar twinge of hope.  On the other hand, another loss so soon after all this pet drama and I’m not sure how I would cope!!!

 

On the bright side, we’ve been spoiling the crap out of our older dog this past week, and it is nice to have a little less stress and tension in our home.

 

 

Infertility and Animals: Pets are not a Stand In for Children

at least mine aren’t…anymore.

Actually my last two posts were about our recently rescued dog. We adopted her 4 months ago, and we’ve certainly had a rough go at getting the two of our dogs energies to mesh. Hers is a very needy nervous energy, but shes a serious bossy pants and resource guarder. Our male that we have had for 5 years is a high energy, control freak who likes to attempt to “beat up” on our new female through very rough play. We do not like the dog he has become. They have had some serious fights over things that we have tried to eliminate or correct via training.  2 weeks ago they got into a fight that landed us at the emergency vet. We had decided to get a professional trainer once her wounds were healed to give them one last chance to make things work. Well, her wounds had healed up and she had finished all of her medication on Monday.

On Wednesday we stepped out of the house for a couple of hours, like we have many many times in the past, and came home to a horrific scene.
They had killed our beloved cat.

Ultimately we should have known better, and we are 100% responsible for what happened. We shouldn’t have been so trusting with animals that we had humanized into rational beings. We had provided a safe room for the cat, that only he could get in and out of… but it wasn’t enough.

I realize that people, children, young, old, sick and healthy die horrific deaths everyday, and sometimes they don’t have anyone…and that is heartbreaking. But this cat was a family member to us, and to think of the gruesome attack and death he faced sends me into crying fits.

I’m so angry. I am angry at myself for not being able to cope with infertility and instead wanting a furry family to fill the void. I am angry at us for being so naive and not being more responsible. I am angry at us for promising to give all of our animals a safe place to live peacefully….and we failed him. I am angry at dogs for being dogs. I am angry that I had humanized them into being my “children” and loving me and each other in “human”, rational ways. I am angry that we promised to give this rescue dog a forever home, but for their safety, we honestly can not now.  Now she will be bounced at least two more times (once back into foster care and then *hopefully* into a real forever home), probably setting her way back in any progress she has made towards rehabilitation. I am angry that I got so attached to her. I am angry at our older dog for being an active participant in the kill. He had lived peacefully with our kitty without the need of a “safe room” for 5 years! I honestly don’t think I will ever be able to look at him the same way. I am angry that my two favorite rooms in our home are completely ruined by terrible graphic memories….there is no way I will get the images out of my mind. I fall to pieces thinking about what happened to him between the room where he died and the room where we found him.

needless to say, we are both completely devastated.
This has changed me profoundly. Which is weird to say because it was such a small (albeit, traumatic) act; a cat’s death, hundreds and probably thousands of which die daily. But something in me has changed. These animals that once had all of my heart, only have a little piece of it now. I have loved animals since before I could walk. I grew up with chickens, pigs, sheep, ducks, turkeys, cats, kittens, and dogs. But, I realize now, I have to relearn how to love and appreciate them for who they really are (animals with prey drives, and natural killer instincts) and not who I want them to be (children).

I know time will heal this wound (unlike my experience with infertility and RPL. Time doesn’t seem to be helping that). I just wish I could figure out what god or the universe is trying to teach me. I am trying to figure out what I am doing wrong and why I feel like I am experiencing all this grief and heartbreak at once, and over and over again- experiences that feel like my fault– am I self sabotaging??!? Should I be doing something else in my life? Is there a different direction I should be going in, or something I am not appreciating?? I just don’t know what is wanted from me. What I’ve learned is to appreciate what I have more fully than I had been. 4 months ago I had a peaceful, untarnished home, a dog who was mild tempered and obedient, a cat who loved to snuggle on winter days and a husband who hadn’t yet had to dig a tiny grave in the pouring rain. And though my heart is yearning for a real live human family, putting a “new dog” band aid on the problem didn’t fix anything…not by a long shot.

All I do know is that throughout this struggle to create a family, I always relied on the fact that I had a wonderful little furry family to dimly light the darkness that infertility and RPL has left me with. And now, that light has been switched off and everything is a little darker.

(Again, it is not the loss of a cat that has me so torn up (he was 13 and had a heart condition so I often prepared myself for his passing).  It was the way he died and the empty wake it left behind. We haven’t been successful at having children in our 4 years of trying, and now I don’t even have a happy/delusional furry family either. )

Mr. Candid and RPL/Infertility Communication Woes

“what are you thinking about?”

“nothing.”

“that’s not possible.  you’ve got to be thinking about something.  Seriously, tell me what are you thinking about right this second.”

“nothing.”

-real-ish conversation between a 15 year old me and Mr. Candid

Back when we were that age, probably the only thing on his mind at any given time were boobs, music,  and “how can I see more boobs”. Not that he wasn’t/isn’t an incredibly intelligent, and motivated person, because he was and very much still is.  A master of many things. Most of my family goes to him with questions from medicine to home improvements.  He’s just one of those guys that loves to learn how to do things- and does them well.  I’m very fortunate. But at 16 if he could get away from his chemistry and biology homework, I’m positive “boobs” were some of his more frequent thoughts.

As 15 years have passed he’s become a bit more complex.  Now I’m sure he thinks of mortgage payments, how to convince me to remodel our bathroom, how to quit his job while still maintaining our income, how to get our new dog to stop peeing in the house, where to go on vacation and, of course, boobs.  At least those are the types of thoughts I’m privy to.  Some of the things he NEVER lets on to thinking about, though I’m sure he often does: medical bills, payment plans, how one of his drug addict patients stole her child’s pain medicine to shoot up (…or whatever you do with pain medicine), How another drug addict is pregnant with her third kid and is still buying needles, how he often sees me crying for seemingly “no reason” and doesn’t know how to fix it, how he feels stuck in most aspects of his life so he takes it out on what he can control- wanting a new job, remodeling the house, getting a new dog, etc., wanting me to go to a new doctor but being kind enough not to pressure me, and probably wishing we had more spontaneous sex.

He’s an amazing man, and wonderful husband.  He’d make such a great dad. He’s my best friend, my opposite in so many ways but my most favorite person to be around.

He’s not one who talks about deep things or spiritual things, or his beliefs on much, for that matter.  We don’t and never have had deep conversations about life or death or politics or war or peace or feelings or theories or hypothetical this and that.  He doesn’t like talking, or thinking about that kind of stuff.  Ever the scientist, who lives in the moment- very black and white and what he can see is what matters (again, very much my opposite).  So when I’m crying and he doesn’t know why or how to fix it-  I know it must bother him.  And the fact that we continue to have miscarriage after miscarriage with no solution or visible progress, is frustrating to him, to say the least.  And he does. Say the least,  I mean.

He tells me to take it easy when I am crampy or feeling down, comes to all of the doctors appointments, and has let me live employment free for 4 years now.  But he doesn’t EVER ask or bring up the topic of miscarriage, pregnancy, cycles, future child plans, adoption, surrogacy, how long is too long, how many are too many etc.  I never see him researching RPL, or Googling successes, or seeking out strategies etc.  That makes me feel really alone in this, especially when I see him spend hours researching the correct way to install a dishwasher.

Though I am hurt by this, and I’ve told him that on several occasions (to which he often feels attacked)- I get it.  I get it because I get him.  I know that he’s frustrated,  he’s in pain and doesn’t want to be reminded of that.  He’s angry that he can’t solve this and doesn’t want to be reminded of that by spending hours on the internet following other child-less RPL sufferers. It’s his defense mechanism to block it out almost completely.  And,  I know he doesn’t ask me questions because he doesn’t want to make me sad, or pressure me into doing anything I don’t completely want to do.  It’s the opposite of what I need…and that makes this whole situation all the more frustrating. If I mention something he certainly engages with me, and talks about it- my cycle, late periods, graphic details about my period/cycle/miscarriage, my hatred of HCG blood draws and Rhogam,  when my monitor tells me I am ovulating, why I stopped taking my vitamins etc.  And he supports every decision I have made, or even think about making- which isn’t always for the best.  Sometimes I need a little push back- like, hello, I probably should still be taking my vitamins.  I told him the other day that I wanted to stop taking my thyroid medicine too- and he was complete supportive (I’m not really going to stop taking my thyroid medicine.) He gets his enabling from his mother.

I know he doesn’t want to make this any harder on me than it already is. It makes me sad that he thinks he is just along for this awful ride.

So when I ask him what he’s thinking about at any random time these days, and he gives me some mundane, run of the mill answer, I accept it and don’t press the issue. After you’ve been together for a while, or been through something traumatic like infertility or RPL, you kind of just know.

 

 

Fat Shame, Weight Gain and TTC/RPL

So I’ve been working on acceptance/embracing all the feelings that come along with 3+ years of TTC, 4+ miscarriages, and the multitude of letdowns.  I’ve been working on accepting my imperfection….that’s got to be the hardest. I’ve been working on trying to figure out what I blame myself for- what is causing me to self sabotage and continue to gain weight.  Whenever I figure that out, I would like nothing more than to forgive myself for that so that I can get back on track and make some positive experiences in my life, instead of only negative. — I’m not even sure how one goes about forgiving themselves?? (please share your opinions, experiences, practices if you have any!)

I often put on a “perfect” mask- I hate when little things aren’t perfect in my life, and if they aren’t I make sure the world doesn’t know it (part of why we haven’t shared our infertility story with family/friends).  I abhor vulnerability and often times imagine if I would even have the courage to ask for help in a time of physical crisis. I realize that this all plays a role in a cyclical downward shame spiral- my imperfections make me feel weak and less worthy, my poor self image fuels my poor behavior, those poor choices continue to add up making me feel even more worthless etc etc….. I am consciously aware of all of it and yet I can’t seem to motivate myself out of this hole.  I used to be an athlete (though I’ve never been “skinny” or thin..that’s just not how my body has been designed) – even last summer I was taking part in group fitness activities and feeling strong- or at least like I was working toward something (of course a hypothyroid diagnosis, another miscarriage and a chemical pregnancy followed that).  I don’t know if depression won, or if I just got so defeated that I can’t make it out of my own head, let alone to the gym.  I currently weigh 50lbs more than when I started this journey…and I am still seeing the scale go up.

 

Yesterday I noticed a tell tale pregnancy sign for me- now it could just be some fluke PMS sensation – or it could be something else.  I am not putting any weight in it, either way.  My only thoughts when I noticed it-  ‘Oh my god, I weigh 260lbs…that’s 10lbs more than the last time I was at the doctors….” then I go on  to blame myself for the weight gain, to not allow myself to feel any excitement because I’ve endangered another potential pregnancy, to almost *hope* that I am not pregnant to give myself more time to get my sh*t together and lose some weight to be better prepared,  to worry about what the doctors might say about my weight *if* I am pregnant —- it’s terribly self-loathing and self-blaming.  The icing on the cake is that in my daily life I am very vocal about being body positive, and anti-fat shaming etc because those types of opinions and actions create minds like mine- and nothing good has ever come from fat shame…

I am hoping by writing this here that I will feel more accountable in my choices….I’ve got to do better for myself.

 

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

 

— Jelaluddin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks

New Meanings to Old Sayings

[i carry your heart with me]

By E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

My husband and I were in a long distance relationship through-out our college years. It was the biggest struggle of my life up to that point. Looking back, a good 6 years later, and I can still feel the sting of having to say good-bye to him all those times.

I used to turn to this poem back then.

Now I find myself with a different struggle, and this poem having a whole new meaning.

We didn’t get a chance to get excited, or talk about the future the first time around. And by the second and third I think we were too scared to.

I can feel myself changing. Hardening.  I catch myself saying things to my husband about my current miscarriage, and I can hear how cavalier I sound.

It’s not how I want to be. It’s how I need to be.  If I wasn’t, I think I would break into so many pieces that I wouldn’t be able to put myself back together.  We have a long road ahead, and I’ve got to be strong.

But, I’m sure 6 (or 2, or 20) years from now,  I’ll look back and still be able to feel the sting of having to say good bye to them, all those times.