I walk a fine line between grief and relief.
Grieving the life we lost, and yet relieved I’m no longer pregnant.
Grieving the son we will never get to know, and yet relieved because I was terrified to parent three children on earth.
Don't get me wrong, I was excited to welcome a third babe on this earth, but I was terrified by how a third earthly babe would change me.
Motherhood has ripped me apart.
It has torn open wounds, and battles with my own personality that I thought were long resolved. With the trauma of all our losses, some days I barely know who I am anymore.
Becoming pregnant and unpregnant so many times has shaped me in ways I never thought I could be shaped. It’s made me weak, it’s made me strong. It has tested my patience beyond limits, and made my skin thicker. My chest has been ripped open and my heart torn apart so many times, that the very fibres of my being have been infused with a super natural ability to just keep walking, to just keep breathing, to just keep living.
To be completely honest with you, I hate being pregnant. The fact that I’ve been pregnant eight times baffles me, because I do not fare well in pregnancy. The morning sickness, the heart burn, the weight gain, the back pains, the varicose veins, the mood swings, all make me miserable. I’m a delightful person to be around when I’m pregnant. I’m tired, and sore, and snippy with everyone around me. One moment I love my life and the next I want to burn the house down.
I stare down at where the varicose veins ripped through my left leg. I grieve its disappearance, and yet am relieved it’s no longer there. I’m relieved I don’t have to watch it continue to swell and eventually cause my lady parts to ache with the added pressure of a growing babe. But with relieved pressure, comes an empty womb, and I so deeply grieve this babe I won’t get to hold despite being terrified to raise a third.
This loss feels so final to me. I don’t know if we will keep trying, I don’t know if we will continue to persevere through pregnancy and unpregnancy time and time again until we get to hold a third. I just don’t know. There are too many uncertainties, too many what ifs, too many odds stacked against us, that I think my heart may just give out if I become pregnant and unpregnant once again.
So for now, I walk this line of grief and relief. And I continue to learn to walk with grief + joy hand in hand.
I walk, and I breathe, and I keep living.