Monday, February 7, 2011

When even blogland isn't safe.

When I first started blogging about infertility, I, like so many others, was drawn in by the amazing community of fellow "strangers" that willingly stood beside me and said "I will walk this road with you." The selfless gestures of compassion has brought healing and strength in ways I couldn't have ever imagined.

But I also quickly realized that even the IF blog community has its mine fields. It isn't entirely safe when our souls are tired and wounded.

When I first started blogging, I was drawn to bloggy folks that had similar stories to mine- multiple miscarriages, trying for first child, etc. I think it is only natural to find community with those that you feel understand you. But inevitably, the pregnancies started happening, and happening, and happening... and slowly I realized that my grief was still too deep and raw to be able to be the kind of fellow blog friend I would have liked. And I found myself pulling away as, even in IF blogland, I was starting to feel left behind.

Months turned to years, and we had exhausted all options, short of IVF. However, life and financial circumstances prohibited us from entertaining IVF at the time. And again there were places in blogland that I just couldn't step. Following along with dear friends who were moving on to IVF brought emotions of envy, anger, and despair, emotions I loathe to admit. I didn't think that IVF would ever be an option for us.

And now, yet again, I am aware of the caverns of hurt and longing that are very real, even in this safe community. I cringe as I post updates about how excited I am about IVF, knowing there are so many dear women in this community that are in the depths of despair right now and feeling like they are out of options. I cringe as I post updates of how swell this cycle is going for me, when I know some readers are experiencing less than ideal news of their cycles. And my heart feels like it is pushed to the max at the depth and breadth of loss and joy that exists simultaneously in this community. It is rarely anything in between. The losses- of life, of innocence, of hope- are brutal, forever reshaping who we are. And the joys- of new life, of hope anew, and of inner strength unearthed- are beyond our wildest dreams.

The scope of all of it brings me to my knees. I hope in the process though, I can learn to truly be present with all people in my life- in the midst of the mine fields of hope and despair. And I hope that wherever you find yourself right now, whether it be in the joy or in the losses, that there is someone coming up beside you to say, "Wherever you are, I will walk this road with you."

1 comment:

  1. I hate to think of this, too. I hate to think that I was probably someone who hurt you at one point. It is so hard. . .

    Just thinking of and praying for you guys.