Grappling with Grief

I saw grief drinking a cup
of sorrow and called out,
"It tastes sweet, does it not?"
"You've caught me," grief answered,
"and you've ruined my business.
How can I sell sorrow,
when you know it's a blessing?"
- Rumi

Grief is not a popular subject. It is exactly what the counselor and I talked about last Thursday at BigShotFertilityClinic. To their credit, they finally figured out that those of us who live near the satellite office were in need of counseling services. I signed up for the first slot. I liked the counselor. We talked about how I deal with grief. I do feel it. I do not try to cover it up, in general, with things like alcohol, TV, or food, though I have to admit, chocolate is my friend at times. But there is only so much grief I can stand. We talked about how I feel isolated by my grief. I notice that many people, including my DH, have a hard time staying with my sadness or anger.

Tonight, I went to see a movie called, "The Gifts of Grief". The documentary highlighted seven people who had lost loved ones in many different ways. I was moved to tears many times, but I could not feel that I have had any of my own gifts from grief. Perhaps I am still too sad and angry.

What have I learned from grief?

To cut out the BS of life: I don't have time for people who claim to want to help me, but just say that to soothe themselves. In the discussion after the movie, one woman talked about how she wanted to write a book on how to deal with a grieving person. She said that telling someone who is grieving, "just call me if you need anything," was not helpful to her. She described how the responsibility was then put on her to do something at a time when she was not functioning. This wisdom could be applied to anyone going through a crisis or trauma. I felt like this completely during my time of crisis while pregnant. I can't tell you how many people told me this, but who never really showed up in a real way to take action or to sit with me. I got lots of advice on what I should have been doing, but I was not functioning and could not do those things that were talked at me about. I didn't know what I needed, so how could I call someone to ask? Or I didn't believe that someone could really give me what I needed, so why bother asking. There were plenty of jealous women who were not pregnant or who had never been pregnant that avoided me, or worse yet, said hurtful things, acting out their own pain. There were the doctors and the healthcare providers who didn't see me, even though I was telling them of my difficulties. It was as if they all had this image of "you'll be fine" instead of seeing the truth. It was as if I was invisible. If they believed someone else was taking care of me, there was not a problem. I feel this way about grieving as well. As long as I'm functioning, people don't really see how much I'm hurting. It's easy to hide the sadness and anger by withdrawing, but I don't really feel like I'm living much of the time.

I don't really know of any resources out there that deal with the grief of going through infertility treatments, regardless of their outcome. If you know of those resources (i.e. have read the book, not just heard about it), please pass them on.

Someday, I may appreciate the blessing of grief. I know I have much more compassion for those going through infertility than I had before, so that is one gift. Can we be there for each other as we grieve day after day, month after month, year after year with each loss related to fertility treatments? Or does it feel better to cheer those on who continue to do treatment after treatment? I want to hear from those women who are in the trenches, dealing with these losses. I am guilty of not writing about how I feel, for fear I will turn off my readers or be viewed as a negative person, but the reality is that I am grieving still from the failure of our FET and from last year's loss as well.

We all have a story to tell about our grief around infertility. I'd love to hear yours. Do you have any gifts from your grief to share?