Monday, April 15, 2019

Mourning the Loss of Nothing

Tonight, I was drained - completely emotionally drained- in a story of great loss.

And at the very bottom of that pit of sorrow, in my utter exhaustion and compassion, I got to reflecting on my own loss - of nothingness.

When I look back on my adult life, the past 15+ years, I see that much of it is marked by ... loss of what I never had to begin with. A fruitless marriage, later revealed to never have been valid, and the makings of this entire infertility blog and persona I created for myself, quite literally defined my life - nothingness. There was nothing there. And yet still, I mourned. And still do today.

I wrote a post in my very first few months on this blog, which was misinterpreted by many - in which I compared the actual losses involved in recurrent miscarriages vs. infertility with no pregnancies. In it, I spoke about how, even then, I recognized and felt guilt over the fact that I was mourning the loss of nothing. There was no baby who died. No soul created. No loss of life too soon. No reason for grieving, in my mortal mind, that justified why I was, still, grieving.

And so it is with so much of my life. Just as for 8 years before my son I mourned the loss of nothing, I now look back and continue to mourn the loss of a marriage, a family I *never had*. I grieve, though I have no right to, over a love that went unrequited, even though it was an impossibility for it to ever have been reciprocated. Disease, disorder, disability - too many 'dis'-es to count, and never a chance for something real to mourn.

Yet, I still do. And I feel that I have no right. That there is so much real loss in this world, so much pain and suffering, like the story I weep about tonight - real people. Real lives. Real love. Real loss.

And yet the tears keep coming, the tears that connect to my own life of loss. Loss of dreams. Loss of hope. Loss of a facade covering the very empty reality that dragged on and on for over a decade. Loss of a voice of truth, that until my dying day I won't be able to bring to light and justice for the sake of my son. Loss of nothing tangible, but everything intangible.

And I weep once again for my sisters in infertility, though I am one no longer - because tonight, like I haven't felt in years, I feel EXACTLY how I felt then. Exactly. The comparisons. The guilt. The shame and sorrow for those with 'real' loss on their hands, and the knowledge that I... had nothing. I lost nothing.

It is amazing how much nothing feels like everything, in these moments. Isn't it?





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