hopelessness
The past couple days, I just haven't been able to shake away the hopelessness. It's clinging to me. Tearing at my skin. Most of the day I'm O.K.. Asher keeps me smiling and laughing. Hopefully I get to spend some time with Steve and with friends. I'm O.K. But then I'm alone, and it's quiet, and it hits. It's crashes on me like a thundering wave that thrashes me down and whips me under water. Hopelessness.
I keep thinking of getting pregnant. We could do it. We have no problem with that. I should ovulate within the next few days...sorry to the boys who read this!. The point is, we could do it. I could feel the nausea and the excitement. I could wait to feel those first wiggles and squirms. I could be pregnant in a mere few weeks..I could. It would be easy and I could feel a fleeting sense of hope again. But then I think that in a few short months we could also be holding another lifeless child...but maybe not. Asher came out screaming...could we get 'lucky' again? Or do we wait. Wait for more unanswered questions...wait for what, more hopelessness?
The feeling of hopelessness is killing me. It's a silent, slow creeping death, but death nonetheless. I can smell it. Taste it. Feel it engulf me.
I keep trying to be O.K. with having one, living child. Some days I can almost taste acceptance...but then all the dreams I've had since as long as I can remember come crashing back in. All the joy I felt growing up with brothers. The joy I still have, because I have them in my life. I want that for Asher. People keep asking me about adoption. Adoption is a option. It's there...but right now, it also feels like hopelessness. I want so much to carry and birth another screaming, rosy cheeked child. I want to nurse and look down to see an image of me and Steve smiling back at me. Adoption is a wonderful, beautiful thing...and maybe one day we'll be blessed to have a child from another family that we can call our own. But for now...I'm just not there.
My doctor called this morning, livid about my MSU genetics experiment and the paperwork they sent back to us. She wants to send us to Ann Arbor. I'm waiting to hear back from them with an appointment. So at least we get to see someone else. And I'm hopeful for that...but of course that involves more waiting. Tomorrow will mark 2 months since I last felt my little girl move within me. Monday will mark 2 months that I last held her. 2 months. In some respects it feels as if it's been 2 years since I held her...others...2 hours. I miss her so much. My little Selah. So tiny. So fragile. She was so wanted. So loved.
Hopelessness. It surrounds me.
I keep thinking of getting pregnant. We could do it. We have no problem with that. I should ovulate within the next few days...sorry to the boys who read this!. The point is, we could do it. I could feel the nausea and the excitement. I could wait to feel those first wiggles and squirms. I could be pregnant in a mere few weeks..I could. It would be easy and I could feel a fleeting sense of hope again. But then I think that in a few short months we could also be holding another lifeless child...but maybe not. Asher came out screaming...could we get 'lucky' again? Or do we wait. Wait for more unanswered questions...wait for what, more hopelessness?
The feeling of hopelessness is killing me. It's a silent, slow creeping death, but death nonetheless. I can smell it. Taste it. Feel it engulf me.
I keep trying to be O.K. with having one, living child. Some days I can almost taste acceptance...but then all the dreams I've had since as long as I can remember come crashing back in. All the joy I felt growing up with brothers. The joy I still have, because I have them in my life. I want that for Asher. People keep asking me about adoption. Adoption is a option. It's there...but right now, it also feels like hopelessness. I want so much to carry and birth another screaming, rosy cheeked child. I want to nurse and look down to see an image of me and Steve smiling back at me. Adoption is a wonderful, beautiful thing...and maybe one day we'll be blessed to have a child from another family that we can call our own. But for now...I'm just not there.
My doctor called this morning, livid about my MSU genetics experiment and the paperwork they sent back to us. She wants to send us to Ann Arbor. I'm waiting to hear back from them with an appointment. So at least we get to see someone else. And I'm hopeful for that...but of course that involves more waiting. Tomorrow will mark 2 months since I last felt my little girl move within me. Monday will mark 2 months that I last held her. 2 months. In some respects it feels as if it's been 2 years since I held her...others...2 hours. I miss her so much. My little Selah. So tiny. So fragile. She was so wanted. So loved.
Hopelessness. It surrounds me.
Comments
i hope things start to lighten up for you. if you ever need to talk know that i am here, hurting along with you.
xx, julie
(you always do)
I guess I'm most thankful for your honesty. makes me feel like I'm not alone.
went to the nursing home to visit my grandmother who is 97. thought, "soon i will be old and these will be the glory days I'll look back on!" and that made me feel worse, like i'm not "enjoying" my life enough.
loss sucks. death sucks.
i long for heaven.
i kind of hate that comment. people say, "oh, you're so fertile." yes, i can get pregnant easily. big deal.
it's the not knowing and uncertainty that gnaw at you, isn't it?
i've been obsessing about things that don't matter just because i am so tired of thinking about this other stuff.
“…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us…”
Romans 5:3-5
Matthew's Mommy