Monday, April 28, 2008


I was nervous. Waiting for doctor to come in and go over the pathology reports from my last surgery. My husband was with me, we didn't know what he would say, what the outcome would be. Dr. M breezed into the room and started talking. It was all gibberish. I didn't understand what he was saying. Finally, he closed my chart and looked at me. I knew that the next words he would speak would change the rest of my life.

"Well, you have four children. You're lucky. You probably should have stopped at one...."

".... it's a wonder you lived...."

".... no more children, not if you want to raise them yourself..."

Suddenly, the words no longer mattered. My world stopped. No more kids. Not in a year, not in five, not ever.

The life I thought I was going to live was snuffed out in an instant.

It's been a few months since that visit. I've shed more than my share of tears. Most days, I think I'm doing pretty good. After all, I live the "American Dream". I'm a mother to four wonderful children. I have a fabulous husband. We have a beautiful home, two cars and a piano.

But I feel like something is missing. Someone is missing.

At the age when most of my friends are just starting their families, I'm moving into the next phase. I'm done having kids. My family is set. I should be happy. I should be at peace... but I'm not. I can't begin to express the turmoil that clutches my soul.

They say that grief expresses itself in stages. I'm just climbing out of the depression stage. Some days I move forward two steps, and the next day, I fall back three.

I feel like my body has betrayed me. Over the last few years, when I kept getting pregnant, I would tell myself, "It's all for a reason.... You'll see why... Give it time." And that was how I coped. That was what I would tell myself so I could get through the day.

Now that I have the reason, I don't like it.

For years, I was in search of an answer. I wanted to know Why. Why is this happening? Why can't we control these things? Why me? Why now?

In one doctor's visit, I got those answers... And in one doctor's visit, my hopes and dreams were shattered. And I was left with even more questions.

Why is this the lesson I have to learn? All my life, all I ever wanted was to have a big family, why did you take that away from me?

Everywhere I look, I see pregnant women. Having their first baby, or their sixth. And it makes me angry. I'm angry that I'll never feel those precious kicks again. I'm angry that I'll never be able to bring home another baby. I'm angry that my body is broken... Because it broke my spirit.

I struggle to find peace. I try to enjoy the moments that I have with my children, my wonderful, beautiful children, that are here with me. But I feel like I've failed them. I failed my husband. I failed me.

So here I am, working through my grief. Hoping that somehow, if I tell my story enough, that I'll learn something. Because I need a reason. I need an answer. and I need peace. I truly, desperately, need to find peace.


Amy Jorgensen said...

it would be ironic if it weren't so sad -- I had the same conversation with the fertility doctor about a month ago. It was so hard to have him look down his nose at me and say, "well, at least you have 3!". Not that I don't love those three with all my heart, but there are two smiling faces that I see in my mind's eye, waiting. I'm just getting to the point where I am understanding that if I cannot bear them myself, then I must find them...

Kimberly said...

Oh honey...ouch. What a grief that must be, a betrayal indeed. Your body not doing what you feel it was meant to, not having control over the fact, and worst of all having no clue as to WHY.

I can suggest possibilities...but you're an incredibly intelligent woman and you don't need me telling you what good might come from this.

I have another dear friend who has a similar grief. She has one child and she'll have no more. I ache for her, but one of the worst parts of this is that I can sympathize but I can't empathize. I can imagine how it feels, but I don't -know- how it feels. I think for a lot of people that's where the awkwardness sets in, you know?

I hope you can find that peace. ~hugs~

Danielle said...

::hugs:: You're an amazing woman and I am so impressed with your strength.

Frances said...

You are amazing.. and I'm so sorry you have dealt with this.

Struggling with my PCOS and us not being able to concieve again over this past year has been heartbreaking. I just hope I can stay as strong as you.

Laurie said...

I don't really have advice... Not that you want advice, anyway... And I know it won't make you feel too much better, since you already know this, but Heavenly Father knows about you and what you're going through. He loves you, as do we!!! And He knows exactly how you'll turn out and how your family will turn out!... LOVE YA!!

Our Crooked Tree said...

My words will never be enough to console you. You are not a failure but a wonderful mother and wife. I hope you find peace soon and forgiveness for yourself.

hayngrl101 said...

I think that it is so incredibly amazing- the knowledge and assurance that Heavenly Father knows you, knows exactly what you are going through, and the struggles you are facing. He loves you.

These are the things that bring me comfort when I don't understand why I have the struggles that I do.

I'm thinking of you and yours. Just wanted to know that your post touched me today.

Sally said...

Oh Mombabe. I am so sorry. I wish you would be at BP so I could hug you and tell you I'm sorry in person.

When I was growing up, my dad, who is a retired psychologist, always told me not to look forward to being happy. As in "when X happens, I'll be happy". Rather, he insisted that I needed to work out how to be happy now. Sometimes my life is charmed and other times it is just not at all what I thought. In those moments I try hard to follow that fatherly advice and figure out how to be happy right as things are today.

I know it's cliche, but time really does help. I hope you have good friends to help you pass that time.

charrette said...

I still struggle with those feelings after seven years. We have three amazing kids, but Baby 4 was stillborn,and Baby 5 didn't even make it that far. My heart goes out to you in a big way.

Some things I've learned:
•The heartache definitely softens over time.
•Feeling like a failure, while entirely real and very much a part of my experience, is straight from the adversary. It's okay to go there, but, as they say in Walk Two Moons, don't let the Birds of Sadness nest in your hair.
•The atonement is a very real, tangible force with unbelievable healing power
•Anyone who can go through an experience like this and come out on the other side kinder, wiser, deeper, and stronger is a true hero.

God bless!

p.s. thank you for stopping by my blog and leaving a comment. You -- even in all your grief -- just made my day!

Wendy said...

I feel for you. We also have 4 awesome kids and can't have any more. It is quite a miracle that we have the ones we do. Fortunately for us, we are at peace with it. Although a little tiny part of us both will entertain the idea of adoption. I hope in time you will make peace with it all. I'm so impressed that you have been so honest and have blogged about your feelings. It takes a strong person to do that.

cyndy said...

I am so sorry for you.

Stacey said...

Lots of big, warm hugs to you, my friend. I'm so sorry that you're going through this. I hope that you find peace soon.

gab said...

I know exactly how you feel. I can promise you will find peace. But it may take a few years and there will always be a little ache. So sorry...

Sue said...

You haven't failed ANYONE. I'm so sorry you are going through this. {{big hugs}}

Nichole said...

Can you feel it? Can you feel how all your chicks have gathered around you, in a big circle, arms outstretched in one giant group hug? Maybe it doesn't assuage the hurt and grief entirely, but you're not alone! We (heart) YOU!

Celia Fae said...

As the Queen of Gallows Humor, I'd like you to insert an inappropriate joke right here "______."

Now I am giving you some chocolate and some nice SSRI's to go with it. Yummy.

Nancy Face said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Nancy Face said...

I'm so sorry. Here's a big hug for you. ((((Mombabe))))

Lindsey said...

Dearest Mombabe, you can have more! (They just might not all come out of your uterus) There very well might be someone "missing" best wishes on your adventure.

Nancy said...

As I read this my own tears of feeling betrayed welled up in my eyes. I have PCOS & I've been trying to get pregnant for 4 years, and in October I found out I was pregnant. After Thanksgiving, I miscarried. You have inspired me to share my own story, because maybe that will help me to get through my grief

Amy said...

What can I say? Without knowing you I love you and pray you will find the peace your heart and mind need. Thank you for having the courage to share your story.

There aren't appropriate words to describe the feelings a woman has when she finds she can't fulfill what her body was created to do-have children.

My heart is aching...