Last night as Grey and I were preparing for bed, I found myself looking in the mirror. As I reached down to touch my stomach, memories of injections and emotions from 2 years ago came flooding back. As I gasped, I found the tears aren't far behind.
Laying in bed, Grey and I talk about pain. Right now, with all that is happening and the lack of certainty, we are in the thick of life pain. Pain that brings anger and exhaustion. Pain that many can easily understand. How different this pain is from the pain of infertility. The pain from continual grief and loss of a life dreamed. A gray pain that many fear and so few understand.
In the darkness, we both reflect and confess how awful the grayness was. That even though there are moments now that are hard, there are still many moments of joy that allow you to forget. How with the grayness there was no forgetting, even when you were striving for life. That the only way to overcome the grayness was to go through it and find a path out.
It's been 2 years since the needles, the anxiety and the fear. 2 years since we did our final round of treatment. And it's only now that the pain of healing is starting to subside. That I can truly look back and recognize how insanely awful being in the trenches was. Resolution is truly a journey. And the transition has only begun.
Abiding with you as you reflect on your journey of 2 years ago and navigate your current one. xoxo
ReplyDeleteSometimes you need that space to be able to look back and understand because in the moment, it is too large to take in. Sending deep breaths.
ReplyDeleteI feel this too. Although there is still pain, the overarching grayness of grief is gone. How easily the memories come flooding back... How easily our children's laughter remind us of all we have gained. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteTo one degree or another, that pain is with us forever. It kind of becomes part of us.
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