Saturday, 26 February 2011

Bring on the WaterWorks.. Part 2

This is a follow-up to Friday's post, brought on by a quote from a book I recently read (and loved)...

"These days grief seems like walking on a frozen river; most of the time he feels safe enough, but there is always the danger that he will plunge through. Now he hears the ice crack beneath him, and so intense and panicking is the sensation that he has to stand for a moment, press his hands to his face and catch his breath."

This character had lost a loved one 2 years before and, although nothing I've been through has come close to his loss, this is sometimes exactly how I feel and my breakdown on Friday seems to fit this description perfectly. I was feeling fine, but all it took was one crack, one look of concern from Dr F and one moment of weakness on my part and I fell headlong and couldn't stop.  I wasn't able to calm myself as this character did.. I let the momentum carry me along, instead of stopping it in it's tracks and then I was powerless.

So what does this mean for me and where am I in this journey? I guess it means that I am still grieving.. Grieving the loss of the natural conception that we will probably never experience. Grieving that we won't feel the joy of getting pregnant 'by surprise', without the help of doctors, needles, tests and invasive procedures. Grieving the fact that so much of our life together has been spent trying to start our family, instead of enjoying and relishing precious time with it.

That's not to say that I feel this grief every day. I don't and I almost feel guilty calling it grief when so many of you have been through so much more. But I think grief is what it is and certainly what I was experiencing on Friday in a moment when the ice well and truly cracked beneath my feet. But now the ice is solid again and feels strong enough to walk on, if not to jump up and down on just yet! And I know the day will come when I'll be skating on that ice and feeling no fear of cracks and I look forward to that.


  1. This makes sense to me, I can definitely relate to that as it happens from time to time for me as well.

    I think it's grief and also the fear of the unknown that hits me.

  2. Beautifully said. Grief is a strange and frustrating thing and sometimes, when you think it has gone away, it rears its ugly head like a soft spot in the ice. But you are right...someday you'll be ice skating. Can't wait to see you reach that day.

  3. Love that quote--that's exactly what it feels like.

  4. I find it interesting that you use the word 'weakness' because that's how I feel sometimes. I feel like I have to hold it all together and be 'up' and 'fun' and organise the collection/presentation for the woman going on maternity leave at work.

    When we finally do give in and break down a little it feels indulgent.

  5. Thanks for the comments ladies.. Kat, I definitely agree about that feeling of 'weakness' and needing to hold it all together. It's hard to accept that we have the right to be sad sometimes and it feels even worse when you have those weak moments in front of others!

  6. It certainly is grief... and it comes and goes in waves - sometimes tsunami's :( Someday we'll all be ice-skating together in a 'virtual' kind of way xoxo