I can’t think of a good word. Whatever it is, that’s what this is. Grief is the opposite of linear.
I don’t have a good reason why life has been harder in the last few days. It’s a combination of things, I suppose. More days a week at work, with all the effort that takes, all those brave faces to make. The looming spectre of the holidays. A voicemail telling me that Ezra’s gravestone has been installed. Some new babies on the way in our sphere and the need to be happy for the people who are having them, people we care about. The jarring reality of PMS (I’d forgotten about it). Standing at the bottom of Fertility Mountain, preparing to start climbing again – feeling good about the summit, but not so jazzed about the cycle monitoring. The first ultrasound in 9 months where there was no baby in there. I’m not sure. Some days it’s just harder than others. It doesn’t feel fair.
So I want to post about how I’m generally feeling hopeful about conceiving again, because it’s true. I want to post about moving forward, about healing, and about the wonderful services that I’ve accessed. I want to post about the people that I’m meeting through this process, the babylost mothers who are forming this amazing circle of isolation-busting support. I want to be positive.
But today, I’m giving in to the twists that knock me off the decidedly non-linear path. Today I feel sad.