Tuesday, 3 February 2009
Another uncertain mind
A lovely person called C. wrote a comment on her blog called 'An Uncertain Mind' about whether to continue trying to have another baby or not. I wanted to leave a comment but the technology didn't seem to allow it. But what she wrote really has resonance for me. It's so hard to give up trying. But I did give up and I know when it happened. It was when we were trying IVF. I was in hospital, lying in bed, recovering from the egg collection. I felt like hell - full of drugs, exhausted, in pain from the operation, tearful. I had just shouted at one of the nurses (with good reason). And as I lay there I looked up at the window. There was nothing much to see - just a few branches of a not particularly attractive tree. But some how even those few branches made me think, 'There's a whole world out there and I'm not seeing it.' And suddenly it was as though I was way above myself, looking down, and I could see myself lying in that hospital bed. And there I was, a youngish and healthy woman, made ill and pathetic and ugly by a medical treatment which I had chosen to undergo. And suddenly I thought, 'That person lying there isn't me. That is not who I am.' And for a moment I saw myself as I was when I was younger. And I was travelling in some distant place, on a boat, with the wind in my hair, staring out at the ocean, going somewhere. And that was when I gave up. At the moment when I couldn't stand the person I'd become. And I thought I was through, I thought I was finished. I thought I could start finding my way back to the boat, the wind, the joy of going somewhere. But it seems like it's never finished.
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4 comments:
Some people's decisions not to have (or try for, since we know how uncertain the process is) a child or another child leave me sad and wishing i could comfort them.
But the way you phrased this made me admire you and see -- just a little -- what you must have been thinking at the time.
Beautiful, touching post
It does seem like it's never finished, doesn't it. (Double negative much?)
I know your image must seem sad and haunting and even a bit ugly, what with looking at yourself on that bed as you were, but I so envy that moment -- I wish I could have a moment like that, one that made me just accept one way or the other that I have to give it one more try, or forget it entirely and move on.
It's hard untangling grief and IF from the grand picture, isn't it. So hard.
I was just wondering the other night if I could remember what 'me' felt like before all this. I am trying to find out if a little bit of that person still remains.
Your image resonates.
Without sounding all glittery and sunshine, in reading your words it sounds,to me, much less like giving up and much more like choosing another path. But I am ever mindful of the glaring difference between being able to make the choice from a place of peace than making it from a place of anguish.
Your words are beautiful. The image haunting.
xxoo
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