I've been trying to find a way to express how coming to the end of my trying to conceive journey with a loss has completely altered my being...my soul...my everyday and my forever...
At the end of the day no matter what anyone says...I can't have children...
There is no shiny wrapping paper or a bow that will put a positive spin on this...
There is no: "It was so hard but I would do it all over again...it was so worth it for me."
No at the end of the day I will never carry a child...I will never feel that child growing inside of me...I will never give birth.
There will be no picture of me in the hospital looking up smiling as I hold my newborn baby.
None...another one of those perfect picture moments that are supposed to be put in a frame and adorn your house that I will never experience it.
And I knew...and I don't know when it shifted, when it all slipped away...when I went from knowing in my heart that I was going to have a baby to knowing it was all over...I probably knew long before I stopped trying...isn't that always the way...
But what do I say...and what do people say to me...really I think I just come off as angry and bitter (but hey I have every fucking right to be!) and I think most avoid talking to me because at the end of the day they have no idea what to say (except to be thankful it's not them!)
So how do I express...how do I put into words a pain that no words were ever invented to describe...
This is a completely different level of pain than infertility brought and the pain of actively trying...because even though you are going through so much...and it hurts...there's still a glimmer of hope...you are still trying...it's not over...
But when it's over...I have been trying to find the words to express how I am feeling and I know they don't exist...
There is a stray cat that walks around my condo complex...well there are several "regular" stray cats but two in particular that I try to help.
The one we call "Missy". She comes around and will sit quietly and patiently under the window waiting for one of us in the complex to put some food out.
Missy's meek, she's well fed and I see her sneak into the basement through a open window when the weather's bad. I always make sure she can get in. She's down...but she's not out.
The other cat...I call "Sematary ". After the cat in the novel "Pet Sematary" by Stephen King.
The beloved family pet that purrs with content as he sleeps peaceful and protectively on the little girl's chest. That cat is the little girl's world. The beautiful family pet full of life until it gets hit by a car and then....
Then....the cat gets buried in the pet cemetery and he comes back to life...but...
The cat is different. Altered... once full of life and now...it's somehow alive but...it walks with a funny "broken" gait, has a hollow look in it eyes and wails that guttural cry....
Yeah...that's how the other cat in my condo complex is...that's why I named him Sematary...and when he comes around he also walks with that same broken gait and cries...wails actually...he wails...
I wish words could describe his wail: "Whooooo rrrrrrgggggg Whoooooo awwwwww" noise....
It comes from the bottom of its being and it's tortured. I used to think it was because he was just hungry and when I would hear that wail I would run to the window and toss out some food so Sematary would get to eat and maybe stop wailing.
And as soon as I open the window, Sematary looks up at me with those lost, hollow eyes and for a small moment while he is eating the wailing stops but as soon as Sematary is done... and he starts to limp away...."Whooooo rrrrrrgggggg Whoooooo awwwwww"...
It's more than hunger...
It's more...
It's like there is something permanently missing...
Like the cat in the movie...he was once alive but now...died...but still has to move on...with that broken, spastic gait and the hollow look in his eyes and that wail...
"Whooooo rrrrrrgggggg Whoooooo awwwwww"
That wail...that lives inside...
Because even though there is temporary relief that wail is always behind any comfort that might be found...
