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percivalI'm grieving right now. Close to tears, can't work as productively as I used to. I'm grieving the pregnancy I can't have, the birth I can't give. I'm allowing myself to feel the pain, the rage, the anger. And it feels good, in a perverse way. It feels like that this is what's needed to melt the fibroids. The grief wells up as soon as I feel even slightly unsettled.
And it will take as long as it takes.
I'm not going to repress it any more. I'm not going to take it on the chin and move on. I'm not going to keep a stiff upper lip. I'm not going to deny my desire to be a mother, my husband's desire to be a father, our desire to have a family, to see a tiny child grow up.
To everybody out there who's ever given the well-meaning advice "relax and it will happen": You can't relax on command. You can't forget all about becoming a mother. You can't just move on to a childfree life. Please honour my process.
This entry was brought to you by Whiny Associated Self Helpers (WASH) ;)
And it will take as long as it takes.
I'm not going to repress it any more. I'm not going to take it on the chin and move on. I'm not going to keep a stiff upper lip. I'm not going to deny my desire to be a mother, my husband's desire to be a father, our desire to have a family, to see a tiny child grow up.
To everybody out there who's ever given the well-meaning advice "relax and it will happen": You can't relax on command. You can't forget all about becoming a mother. You can't just move on to a childfree life. Please honour my process.
This entry was brought to you by Whiny Associated Self Helpers (WASH) ;)
