Parental support

First off, in an effort to facilitate your guys comments, which I love to read, I have changed some of the settings. It should be much easier to leave a comment now for those who don't have a blog. And if you do read the blog, leave me comments, I really appreciate it.

I had a strange chat with my dad tonight. We were talking about our relatives and extended family and he told me that he had realized how out of his entire family, he is the only one who does not have grandchildren. I said that he had had one, but he died. My dad replied something loosely translated as "May God forgive him, but he doesn't count."

In that moment, like in so many others during the past year, I just had to remember that infertility, stillbirth, and this whole package that I am carrying on my back is supposed to hurt. It is inevitable that even in the middle of an otherwise lovely day, and without provocation, pain will be there, showing up from time to time in so many little ways, lest I forget that no matter how good life is at the moment, even if it is the best that it has been in a whole year, I will still hurt in the background, I will still be reminded, I will still listen to the outside world and let the Voice (hehe, you thought that the Voice was gone, no such luck boys and girls...) putting me down, making me doubt, telling me that I must still be doing something wrong if after all this time and effort I have nothing to show for it. Nothing including my poor dead baby, who apparently doesn't count.

Forgive me, Adrian, for not hurting your grandfather back. He is also in pain, his own pain, which makes him blind to mine, and makes him unable to acknowledge and love you like your daddy and I do.

It is a GOOD thing that my mom and dad don't understand my struggle or my emotions. It is because they themselves have never experienced anything like it, and that is a good thing. This kind of pain, I want it as far away from my loved ones as I can.

I chose to joke instead of even trying to explain. I suggested that my dad should perhaps have another child, preferably adopt one that is a little older, if he really wants grandchildren.

In the meantime, I will go on trying, knowing fully well that at this point my parents (and who knows who else) are thinking that I am still not trying hard enough. Perhaps this is part of why I started this blog, to be able to direct people to a written chronicle of my trials so far, hoping that seeing it they would stop judging my efforts as insufficient. But who am I kidding, my parents don't need to read it, they saw me living it and it still means nothing. In the all absorbing quest for a precious grandchild, neither Adrian nor me seem to count.

And who am I to judge that kind of desire? To want a grandchild with so much force as to forget about your own child's feelings might very well be akin to me wanting a child with my whole heart, and perhaps at times ignoring the fact that I am hurting my pregnant friends or cutting contact with my cousins who have recently had babies. We all hurt others when we want something so badly that nothing else in our life seems to count.

The lesson that I have learned is the same as always: don't fight. There is always a reason. Pain is here to stay. Carry it with grace.