Thursday, October 21, 2010


My soul, these days, isn’t sure what path to take. I swing, wildly, from high to low. Moments of incredible despair and thoughts that torment me, that tell me that NOTHING will ever be ok and all I will ever have is a life of pain and grief so what’s the point swing to moments of, perhaps not happiness, but enjoyment: Beautiful weather and sun on my face, amazing blue sky and leaves turning; songs that make me sing as loud as I can and shake my booty and wish that I were in a band; my super-duper hubby – these good moments startle me sometimes and shock me into smiling despite myself. Sometimes, I think, life is decent. Maybe I can do this, maybe I can live.

And then the pendulum all too quickly swings back the other way and reminds me of all that I have lost: those babies, all of them precious, all of them gone, leaving behind nothing but holes in my heart and pictures of positive pregnancy tests; the life I wanted, filled with family and babies and joy; the weight of my dog as she wormed her way onto my lap, the silky soft touch of her fur and the way it wrinkled around her neck and the fact that I will never be able to touch her again. As quickly as it came, the joy is ripped out of me.

I find hope in those high moments, before the pendulum swings back around, and yet hope is dangerous for me because it makes the low times seem that much worse. I wonder – as much as I hate to admit it – if the meds are actually working, or starting to work.

Damn. I thought I’d be able to wear mascara today. File that under “Bad Ideas.”


  1. What a great metaphor for it. (*HUGS*) So sorry for the swinging of the pendulum, I can relate to what you're saying and the high points versus low points can be so staggering sometimes. I hope the meds are doing their thing, and you're talking to someone about things, and coping gets easier. It's really a struggle, and I'm sorry for what you've went through and what you're going through.

  2. I really wish I could just come through this computer and wrap my arms around you and let my Allie lick all over your face and jump on your lap. I'm sorry you're having to go through all this shit..

  3. That's the ride that is RPL isn't it? I'm feeling that you are on an upward swing though, climbing oh so gingerly out of that pit of despair. That's what we do, to work on getting closer to those babies we haven't met yet. I wish you only the best x

  4. I couldn't have written this post better myself. I'm so sorry for the pain you're going through and those good days make the bad days all the more horrible. (((HUGS)))

  5. For the drugs, you really have to be consistent and keep taking them for at least a month to 6 weeks before you'll see results. I hope you're hanging in there with them and giving them a chance. I'd give you a big hug if I could.