It is one of those mornings, where I wake up early and sleep eludes me for the rest of the night. I wish I could go back to sleep as it is much too early to get up but my mind is starting to get busy. I also love the early morning hours when no one else is awake, it is dark outside and … silence. So I get up and write.
This morning I thought back to so many different things, starting with the last sentence that I uttered as a response to my husband’s question: ‘What do you miss about Australia?’ My answer was: ‘Knowing how things worked – for example IVF.’
What a strange thing to miss, I thought, but more and more I have learnt to trust and listen to the first things that comes up when asked a question. Even though I have returned to what would be my ‘home’ it still feels like I have to get used to everything all over again, similarly to my previous oversea moves. I know how IVF worked in Australia or at least I think I did. I notice hesitation… I stop and wait. I hear the words inside of me: Write! Say it!
I was wondering what we would have happened if we were still in Australia. One of the last big things we did before moving was another full cycle of IVF, after an unsuccessful implantation.
This is challenging to write, as, by now you might have guessed, it ended in a miscarriage. I stop again and feel. We had so far not been sharing this with many people as we wanted this to be ‘our’ journey. Thinking about it, I probably also didn’t want to have to deal with people’s perceptions, opinions and judgements around our decision, whether spoken or silent.
I know that even by mentioning this here, it will not change the fact that they do exist for certain individuals. You reading this might not know that sharing openly has not been part of my core being. I would describe myself as a rather private person, not keen to share much personal information, if not as a helpful self-disclosure for example in my work as a therapist or with a dear friend whom I trust.
The depth of sharing that started through the challenging and intense pregnancy with Hope and Passion came out of ‘nowhere’. Looking back it is now clear to me that it was a deep need for me to share and put it out there so people knew what was happening but still, I was speechless and unable to talk about it and meet people’s comments. In retrospect I know now that people’s perceptions, opinions and judgements where there all along, some of which I now know about and some I will never find out (which I don’t mind).
A good friend of mine later told me that he had to disconnect from me as for him the process of grief was a dark and personal one and it didn’t feel right to be so openly expressing it. Hearing it did hurt, not so much that I questioned what I had done but more the fact of my intent be missed. So why do I write this here now? I don’t really know. Often it is later revealed to me, either through my own psyche via dreams, thoughts, meetings or by someone’s comment.
My intent however remains:
- It is to be openly sharing.
- To break the silence of so many taboos,
- to allow others to feel, speak, embrace.
- To encourage someone else to accept their own story of grief.
You will know whether this is for you to read or not.