There was a time, when I’d be sitting on our white leather couch, too sad to be entertained by television and stare out onto the icy, snow covered lake.
In my fantasy I’d gracefully walk across the lake, at that moment snowless, with no worry that the hard grey shell of ice would break my stride. I’d barely have time to heat up in my winter gear before I hit the centre of the lake. With movements that were as quiet as poetry, I’d raise my arms, look up at the cloudy sky and whoosh, I’d be gone. One deafening crack, followed by still. I would be swallowed by the end. Silently, beautifully, quickly.
Of course, in reality, this could be no more than what it was, a fantasy. It would never turn out the way I had envisioned it, it could never be that romantic. I’d spend half the day chipping away at the ice to make a hole for me to fall through and more than likely, the shock of the cold water would bring me to my senses and I’d instantly regret my decision, much too late. Plus I loved my husband too much to put him through any more misery. I felt I was a failure at too many things, I wasn’t going to be a failure at life as well.
I was trying to come to grips with why, after more than a year of trying, we still weren’t pregnant. I was frustrated that Dr’s didn’t seem to care that my heart was breaking with each passing month and that the only advice friends and family seemed to have, was “be patient.”
My first instinct was to protect myself. Facing happy pregnant women, with their big round bellies, only seemed to belittle me. I thought if I could just find a peaceful corner of the world where I wouldn’t be forced to face the feeling of being less than human I might be able to feel good about myself long enough to actually get pregnant.
Eventually, after a lot of hurt feelings and long talks and months and months of alternating between, “Why can’t I get pregnant?” and “Why doesn’t anyone understand what I need?” I finally gave in. No one was ever going to understand, so I needed to find a way to stand up and walk on. I needed to find a way to accept my life for what it was. I needed to take back the silver lining.
I was lucky. I had already had a background in asking for help and knew that it was time to do it again. Though I had support from my Husband, my Psychologist, my Naturalpath, a few Specialists, Friends and Family, it was ultimately me who carved the path out of the darkness. If someone made a suggestion on how I could fix things, it was me who chose to listen and me who chose to take action.
They were small steps, simple steps, hard steps, but I made them. The first and the most important step of them all was realizing, through a waterfall of tears, on a particularly bad day, that I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve to live in a world full of negativity. I deserved better and I set out to get it.