A longer post today. Sorry in advance for breaking the Microblog rules.
In July 2012, Grey and I came to Boston for my postdoc interview/vacation/to attend his youngest cousin's wedding. There were many lessons I learned during this trip and to this day mark it as the beginning of our journey to healing from infertility (even though we were firmly in a place of uncertainty).
The thing I didn't talk about, though, was a moment that still haunts me. An innocent enough moment that I've been shoving away because I assumed it was my problem and a fault I needed to deal with. But this post made it clear that sometimes the best thing to do is talk about it. So here goes.
Bit of background, this trip to Boston followed on the heels of some terrible events. We had just had gone through a failed FET, which followed on the heels of my second miscarriage. The adoption agency we had planned to work with had told us to hold off (understandably so, but still hard to hear). And then the final element of Grey's brother and SIL announcing they were expecting almost immediately after my miscarriage. I knew going into this situation I wasn't going to do well. Grey and I had been working with David to try to defuse it as best as we could, but the reality was I was hurting and filled with anger.
So seeing Grey's SIL, who was clearly pregnant, was hard. A reminder of the babies my body had failed to carry. There was also my MIL, who was clearly excited to be around her grandchildren and to be near my SIL as she was the one mainly providing these children. It was hard not to be jealous.
But the icing on the cake came later in the day. Grey and I had bought his niece and nephews some books. The kids were excited to have them, asking to be read. So the 3 youngest children gathered on the couch with my eldest nephew, who was a teenager, and as he read to them the adults sat back, smiled happily and snapped photos of the scene. All while Grey's SIL unconsciously stroked her belly.
It will be 4 years since that scene has played out this week. A lot has changed. So much in fact. And yet, that image still is a painful one. For years I've picked at it, trying to dissect why. I've tackled jealousy, envy, the fear and all the misunderstanding. I've been told that time heals all wounds and there have been many examples of how much the Beats are loved by our families.
Yet, the hurt remains. Something that seems so trivial still just isn't.
With Bent no Broken's post, I realized that sometimes there isn't a way to make those moments okay. Despite how much as our loved ones want us to. It's hard because there's this assumption that the only road to peace is through absolving someone of any wrong that was done. Which leaves me wondering why. And who does it benefit.
On Wednesday the Beats turn 3 yrs old. Seeing them read their books, I think about that picture and play out in my head the dialogue I would have with myself all those years ago. That despite having them here now, that situation really sucked. And maybe that's okay to admit.