Wednesday, March 4, 2009

No Perfect Endings

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity." -- Gilda Radnerr

I know this, I've learned it so well in the past few years. Yet, I still wish the story had a clear linear path. I know they don't, I write stories after all. My life is a book that I have yet to write, it's in my mind as a jumbled mess. All interlinked so that there is no starting point, not my birth, not the moment I realized who I was, not the present nor the future. Each breath I take is not a middle part, nor is it the ending. The story goes on with those breaths. Each day is a blank page.

Despite this, I always wanted that perfect ending. I wanted something to wrap up all the pain, all the struggle. I wanted the fight to be worth it. Maybe it will be someday.

That day is not today.

We can't always have perfect beginnings. We can't all have prefect endings. But what we all have is brief, intermittent, perfect moments. I had a series of those moments a week ago. I had that joy, I held it in my heart for two weeks. It was almost perfect, it was almost a saving grace. Almost, but not quite. Does it count? From where I stand right now, it does not, nor has it ever. I know that in time I can look back and it will count, it will be a blessing I smile back on. But not today.

Maybe that's why it doesn't hurt so bad right now. I've weathered this storm before. I know that there is no point in fighting it, the end is here. I know that I will survive this. I know that there is comfort beyond the horizon. I will not sink into the swamp of sadness this time.

Maybe it's because I am still waiting to miscarry, maybe it's because I had all week to resign myself to the idea of it ending. Maybe it hasn't hit me yet... I don't know. I do know I am not falling apart like last time. I do know that I will pull through.

I am going through hell right now, but I will not stop here. I can not make hell my home again. I will keep going. Yes, it hurts, but I will keep walking, I will keep putting one foot in front of the other until I get to where I'm going.

Winston Churchill once said, "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts." I will sum up the courage somewhere within me. I will continue on. It took revisiting hell for me to finally realize this, it took me letting this pregnancy go, acknowledging that it is over, to finally know that I can try again. I will try again. I may not cross the same bridges I once thought I would, I may not be willing to continue fertility treatments to the extent I once thought I would... but I will become a mother somehow, someday.

And for that, it's worth going through hell.


Another Julia said...

I am so sorry.
I was so hoping for your miracle, which you obviously deserve.
May it happen soon.

Dora said...

Beautiful post. Yes, we will try again. Big hug.

G$ said...

Roseanne, Roseannadan. Miss her.

Yes, that joy you had for two weeks, however brief, that counts for something. That joy is what keeps me going somedays, regardless of the crappy ending. It's all I have.

Hang in there hun, you aren't walking this road alone.

Kristin said...

What a beautiful, strong, amazing post. You will be a phenomenal mother one day.

Tara said...

Beautiful post. Many hugs to you.

Michelle said...

I am so sorry. I wish it turned out differently. Sending you big hugs! You are such a beautiful person.

Photogrl said...

I'm sorry.

It's not fair.


MrsSpock said...

So sorry. That was a lovely post.

Queenie. . . said...

I am so sorry. This really was a beautiful post. You are amazing and strong, and I wish you much peace.

The Jensen Family said...

You are not alone. Even though I do not know you, I think of you often, and know that someday, somehow, you will be a mother. For now, you mother us all with your incredible wisdom and endurance. Thank you for sharing your journey with so many of us that are tired of waiting and tired of hurting.

P.S. You are an incredible writer, you are lucky to be able to put your emotions into words

The Steadfast Warrior said...

I'm so glad you can look at this painful journey and remember those perfect moments. I hope you can hold on to those moments of joy.

You have such strength. I know it will carry you as these next days play out. I still really wish this wasn't happening to you.

You will make an incredible mother! You have the determination, so I have no doubt it WILL happen! (((HUGS)))

Martha said...

Here from Lost and Found, I'm so sorry for your loss.

Stacey said...

Found you on LFCA.
I'm so sorry for your loss. I appreciate what you've written here. Beautiful.

WiseGuy said...

I stand with you. Let's just swim along together. Hugs.

S said...

I love this post. Simply because you manage to articulate feelings that I can't ever seem to get across appropriately. A lot of IF/IVFers call having a live child the perfect ending. I've always called it the perfect beginning. Its where you rise from the ashes of the past and soar towards an unknown but exciting future. And I love the churchill quote. It is so apt and true. It is the reason why we tolerate and embrace this hell.

I hope our dreams come true. Finally then, all this -inbetween- will be worth it.