20 May 2013

30 Days - Day 20 - This is How it Feels and saying, "I Trust You" When it Was the Last Thing I Wanted to Say

Gosh, this is exhausting and I haven't even written anything yet.

Exhausting because I woke up today and knew I had to write like I have for the last 19 days.

Some days I've written one word and others I've written 3000, but every day I've shown up and written something. 

It's all I've had to do; it's all I committed to.

Everything I've written about, I've lived.

Everything I've written about, I've felt.

That includes feeling a lot of things this morning. I don't know, this emotional thing, it's hard to explain sometimes. It's just so overwhelming when it comes down to it. And when that happens for me it all comes spilling out, usually through tears.

It happened this morning when Andrew was here.

It happened after he left for work and I was by myself.





Sobs, wrecking sobs.

Even as I cried I thought to myself, "What's this all about really?"

It's about the past, present and future.

The past - not being able to have children.

The present - living without children.

The future - not having children...or grandchildren. The line stops here.

Of course, that's not what it's all about - there's other stuff, too. Some of its just life, some is directly related to infertility, some is related to other things - not everything I'm grappling with is in relation to baby, baby, baby. It's not...but gosh, it feels like it sometimes.

Infertility affects everything.

Us and our daily lives.
Family relationships.
Social relationships.
My work life.
The future.
The past.
The present.

Hey, that's pretty much everything like I said.

I've tried not to let it! I've tried to be good and suck it up and deal with it. I've tried, I've tried, I've tried.

No one tells you how, though. No one ever says, "This is how you get over your feelings of being left out, not part of the club, glossed over, ignored, put on the shelf, pitied and forgotten."

Yep, that how infertility feels.

It horrid and it's heartbreaking.

Let's just throw all the breaking, broken and shattered words in there too because they're part of it.

I'm not saying that these feelings can't be dealt with and fixed and moved on from, but what I'm saying is THIS IS HOW IT FEELS.

I feel:

Left out

Not part of the club

Glossed over


Put on the shelf

Pitied and


Great, just great. Not.


When you FEEL these things, and feel them so deeply, it's hard not to believe them.

Lord, I don't want to believe them, but sometimes I do. 

And I don't just feel them, I live them every. single. day.

When people find out my situation, they don't know what to do with me.

Left out. 

When people find out I don't have kids, they can't relate.

Not part of the club. 

We don't get invited to things.

Glossed over and Ignored.

I'm 40 and I don't have kids.

Put on the shelf.

"When are you going to have kids?"

"We can't."

Pitied and Forgotten. 

Hey, I get it. I get that what we have to deal with isn't the biggest thing in the world, but it's the biggest thing to us.

Hey, I get it. I get that people will want to do things with other families and not us. It's just the way it is.

Hey, I get it. I get that you don't know what to do with me when you find out I don't have kids. I don't know what to do with myself either.

Hey, I get it. I get that you can't relate because I don't have kids, but I try to relate to you because you do have kids, so couldn't you do the same for me?

Hey, I get it.

I reeeaallly get it.

And what I need you to reeeaallllyy get is that it hurts, and it hurts bad.

That's it.

That's all you need to get.

That, and maybe that a word of encouragement for them wouldn't go astray.

Oh look, I don't know, I kinda feel like I'm talking for other infertile women who can't put their feelings into words. How does anyone know how to deal with an infertile person in their life if an infertile person doesn't say anything about how it feels to be an infertile person?!

It's not a one-size-fits-all solution either. Everyone's different and everyone needs different things.

For me, personally, the silence has been deafening.

Again, I get it. I said to Andrew recently that society dictates that infertility is a problem that needs to be dealt with internally - with just him and me. We can't go round talking to all and sundry about it every time we step out of the house...and neither would we want to. It's a downer of a subject, let's face it. It's too much for people and not exactly something you bring up in casual conversation.

So, it's the way it is - it's a one way street.

The thing is...it's our daily life...and we can't talk about it.

We can't talk about it.

We can't talk about it.

We hear chatter about everything else, but we can't talk about it.

We hear children chattering and our eyes sting, but we can't talk about it.

We hide, we mask...and we cry later.

It makes me feel distanced from people because they don't know what's going on inside my head and my heart, because I can't talk about it.

That's been one of the hardest things for me.

No wonder I've backed off from social things.

Note: I am very aware that maybe family and friends will read this one day. When you speak about your life, you obviously speak about the people in it. If you are one of those family members or friends and you feel a bit indignant about what I've said, then I ask you to read it again and see it for what it is. It's my story, my perception (not always right), my feelings and my experience. I've not had any particular situations in mind when writing. That being said, we have had support over the years. Our situation is what it is - everyone has their stuff. You just happen to be reading about mine.

Moving on.

Back to the wrecking sobs from this morning...oh man, can we just finish this up please?

A bit of background...

Over the first few days of this writing time it all poured out of me. It was all the surface stuff...excess stuff maybe, that was floating around in the forefront of my mind. It came out straight onto the computer and I thought, "Great, this is easy, I can do this." And I did, for seven or so days.

About five or six days ago, I think I ran out of excess stuff. I typed back then that I'd made room in my life for new and good things, and I thought I just had to wait for them, type about them and hunky dory, all would be well.

Um, no.


Didn't happen like that.

I've been soaking up a lot of stuff recently, but what I didn't realise was that I would be tested on stuff I've already typed again.

Like, is that it?

I mean I've heard that before...you say, "I believe this!" and then you get tested on it. Not for God's benefit, but for mine.

To build trust in myself?

To build trust with God? (yes)

To build experience with it myself?

That's what I'm feeling, I guess, I've been around this mountain so many times, why are we going around it again???? It just feels ridiculous.

I'm so over being stuck on the merry-go-round - I just want to get off. I hate the dizzy feeling, the whole-we're-not-going-anywhere thing and just the whole concept of going round and round in circles.





Obviously, not enough.

Not enough.

Oh, Lord. When will it end?

So, this morning in the midst of the wrecking sobs...oh, by the way, they were MAD sobs, not sad ones.






Worn Out sobs...

Yeah, those.

In the midst of those...I said out loud and through gritted teeth...

"This is the laaaaasst thing I feel like saying, Lord....

but I love You,

(no more gritted teeth)

I trust You,

I know You have good things for me,

I know You are good,

I know You know,

I know You care."

Immediately I felt myself settle down by about 20%. A minute later it was more than that and a few minutes later I was no longer crying and carrying on.

It all sounds - "Oh, look at me, how spiritual am I?" but trust me, if you were in the bathroom with me you would've seen I wasn't being the least bit spiritual...

...until I said the words I did.

Kinda surprised myself really.

A few minutes before (while still in the midst) I did think about 'trust' and basically whether I was trusting Him or not.

I mean, I've said, "I love You and I trust You" while I've been sad, but not while I've been mad.

When sad, it's easier to trust.

When mad, it's not. And I found that out today.

You see, I'd been upset for oh, three hours when this happened.

A lot of things got on top of me and I was mad - all I could do was cry and try to figure it out. Like, what am I supposed to do after this 30 days of writing? What does it all mean? Do I want to keep writing? Do I want to do anything else? Gosh, I'd like a bit of rest, actually. A rest from all THIS STUFF. 

Then I remembered what I wrote recently about saying, "I trust You" in the midst of all the emotion, so I did it.

It was really hard; it was the last thing I wanted to do!

But as soon as the first few words came out of my mouth it got easier to say the rest.

So, that's what happened today.

Not fun, but a lesson learned in the end.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for taking the time to leave a comment!