"Picture this (because I do all the time): My tall, athletic, seemingly ageless husband, walking down the sidewalk in our quiet Brooklyn neighborhood, with a child. They stroll along, smiling, my husband often glancing down at this mini-person; the mini-person, continuously gazing up at my doting husband, in attachment, wonder, and love. And then, I literally want to crush a wine glass in my hand to punish myself for having robbed my husband of this reality — an idyllic scene that, in a parallel universe, with said younger, prettier, more fertile wife, is actually happening...
With the words still floating in my imaginary caption bubble slowly dissipating over our heads, I can still recall the look on her face, as the information fully registered. In fact, I will never forget. I’m imagining it right now. The way she very faintly stiffened and gradually angled her body and drew her eyes away. And then, she did something possibly even worse than recoiling in her not-so-secret horror — she just ignored it. That was it...
What I've learned through all of this, and reading about other women’s grief and struggles through miscarriage after miscarriage, is that we have to eventually give ourselves permission to say “Fuck it” when we need to. To put the weight of all the shame and loss and crushing disappointment aside, even for just a while, to remember what it feels like to be free. Otherwise, what is the alternative?"
http://www.refinery29.com/2015/08/92613/multiple-miscarriage-womens-fertility-story?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=post&utm_campaign=repost
Why are there so many things to feel ashamed about - and why are they almost always things where the person being shamed really needs a lot of support? This woman deserves so many hugs.
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