I met up with a friend last night for a tasty non alcoholic beverage. These days meeting up with friends ends with me in tears, swearing to never see them again. This time I left feeling lighter and supported.
My friend has been through a journey similar to mine and she ended up at the end of her journey without children. Not happily so but she has made the best of it. It still brings her to tears to discuss her losses (she had four), and to discuss the outcome of their journey. She melted upon learning of mine.
I’d been hesitant for some time to tell this friend although she is the only one I know personally who has had a similar journey to mine. Firstly because my rule is Tell No One. And secondly, I have been too scared to approach her with it.
I didn’t want to dredge up any sadness for her but also because I selfishly didn’t want to face the possibility that I could end up like her: without children. I know this is a possible outcome for me. I’m still too scared to consider it. But as much as she makes the best of it I know she carries around a serious weight, a grief that will be with her forever. This terrifies me although I know that no matter what the outcome of my journey, I too will be carrying a grief around forever. I know that never goes away.
I decided to tell her because I knew she could relate. And she does. They started trying around the same time we did, all naturally conceived and lost. She explained that they never consciously gave up, but they no longer sought after it. The investigations became too onerous, and the losses too devastating, something I can totally relate to. It has been five years since her last loss and she is into menopause but her grief is still palpable.
She had warned me once many years ago through teary broken eyes don’t wait too long. It was hearing this that made me realise it was time to get our act together. That maybe sometimes things can go wrong. How true has that become.
As we spoke last night she just said the right things. She just nodded with knowing. It was a kind of support I get through this blog, through support groups, through forums, but haven’t received yet from a friend. And I’m so happy I was able to open up to her. I was able to lower my guard just this once.
We cried. We cursed. We laughed. We cursed some more.
I felt relief after leaving her. Like a small part of my burden had been lifted. Or shared. What a difference that can make.