Finding Self Care on the Journey of Grief — Part One
What happens when your world comes crashing down? How do you pick up the pieces and move forward?
I was not sure of the answers to these questions for some time and it has taken me 10 years to start figuring it out. And here is how it all goes …
On June 6, 2009 I lost my son Lucas.
That is right … lost. He died. Before he was born. Inside me where he should have been safe.
In the last decade, I have learned that there is so much I do not have control over but oh so much that I can take away, share with others, help myself to continue forward.
And while I sit here, hoping that maybe this post, and the next 5 posts to come, will be something other than a rambling mess, I have learned that sometimes finding a way to tell the story, experience the journey, and celebrate the moments of success is exactly what we needed all along on the journey.
After 10 years, and toying with this idea for a while with no real platform, I feel it is so important to write the story of what happened and what it has taught me about grief. So here goes ….
My husband and I were married in October of 2006. Before we even were walking down the aisle, many of his family members were asking about when we would start having kids. My husband is 5 years older than me so this was a topic of discussion for a long time. Not one I wanted to have with members of his family, but rather, our own discussions. It ended up that at some point, I think I started to respond with … “well, we are never having kids”. And this was my true fear … that we may never have kids, ever.
While I have always wanted kids. 3 to be exact. I was very afraid that this might not happen. As a teenager I struggled with ovarian cysts. Some got so big that when they ruptured, I would be in excruciating pain. Doubled over. Sick to my stomach. Dizzy. It was horrible. And I was told that this could impact my future fertility.
Now let me be serious, at 16, I was not thinking about my future fertility. I was not thinking that these cysts could one day prevent me from having kids. So, when the discussion would come up, I was very forthcoming with my husband. I don’t know what this process will be like. I don’t know if we will get pregnant. I don’t know a lot of things about what will happen with this entire process. When were decided to start trying, I remained hopeful.
After several months with 0 success. Negative pregnancy test after negative test, I decided to contact my doctor. He suggested we try for a little longer but do some monitoring. Taking my basal body temp every morning so we could more accurately time our “trying”.
Again, several months passed with no success. We were getting frustrated. Rather I was getting scared. Maybe I can’t get pregnant. Maybe this will be the reality … 0 children.
Luckily, I have an awesome OBGYN who knew my history, has had several conversations with me about my fears and concerns, and decided to start a round of fertility drugs even though he would suggest with others to keep trying. Again, luckily, we were successful on the 1stround of drugs.
Finally, it happened. A positive test! We were so excited that we wanted to share with everyone. We found out right before Christmas and the blood test came back so strong that there was no reason for a repeat. Fear subsided. Hope prevailed. And we were going to be parents.
Pregnancy was easy. Well as easy as it could be for a first-time pregnancy. My boobs hurt and that made me excited. I had some nausea and that made me excited. Because I was pregnant and that was all that mattered. Parenthood was on the horizon.
Every appointment went smoothly. We were constantly told everything was great. And really … everything was great, until it wasn’t. And the dream of being a mom, a parent was crumbling before my very own eyes.
And The Story Continues In Part Two