So, next Wednesday is my 6 month check up. It seems like the last 6 months has been an eternity. Appointments, counseling, meltdowns…life has been…interesting.
I was hoping at this point that I’d have words of wisdom and peace. Turns out…I don’t. With the holidays closing in, I feel what anyone feels that has experienced a loss. I feel anxiety, dread and a tightness in my chest that just won’t go away. This is NOT the life that I wanted. This is NOT the life that I planned. This is NOT the life that I have worked so hard for. Turns out…it’s apparently not about what I want. Count your blessings, they say, and I do. I am blessed beyond measure, but my loss consumes me. I am sad for my husband. Because of ME, he can’t have a child of his own.
This feeling cycles. Some days are good, some days are bad, some days are unbearable, some days…I’m just numb.
“Dear God,” she prayed, “let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry…have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere – be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.” From A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
This has been my prayer lately because it’s the only prayer that feels right.