Wow, some serious introspection required for this one. Sjoe these are getting harder. I’m thinking we may have to go password protected on some of these responses. But I guess this is good preparation for the head shrinking session this evening?
I think there are two things here. The first a little tongue in cheek. I often think I wish I had never opened this infertility can of worms. There are days I really wish I could go back and undo the emotions which overwhelmed me and prompted me to start down the road of trying to become a parent. There are days I wish I had never admitted to Chris that I really wanted to be a mother, that I really wanted us to put ourselves through hell to achieve this hormonally driven dream. There are days when I realise what hell I have put Chris through, and see what I keep putting him through every time I have a bad day and I resent what I did to us. I see how much opening this door has changed me, changed us and changed the perfect life we were leading. I brought in this thing which has made us feel like we were missing something. Yet we never felt this missing piece until I opened my mouth. And so I blame myself for the bad days. I blame myself for the pain and exhaustion of what we are now going through.
I guess I need to let this go. Maybe just maybe we were never brave enough to admit to the elephant in the room that was our lack of kids. Maybe it was the bravest thing I ever did to open myself to this pain. But I so wish there was something I could do to protect Chris from this. I wish I could control my emotions so that Chris wouldn’t be hurt by my pain.
Speaking of elephant in the room. My mom died in February this year. My mother killed herself, she took well in excess of 400 tablets. I was the last person she spoke to.
In my head I know that I am not responsible for the actions she chose to take. And I think on most days I don’t blame myself. But there is a nagging guilt, a doubt that I pushed her over the edge.
Funny enough this isn’t even the hardest part. The hard part is forgiving myself for the relationship my mom and I had while she was alive. Yesterday I spoke about my toughness. But you see my mother was never that tough. She also knew how to put on a brave face, but really my mother was like that really fine red wine glass, the slightest bump and it shatters. I could never understand that fragility. I so wanted my mom to be so much stronger. I needed her to be stronger. I needed to be allowed to be the child in our relationship, but it wasn’t like that. Chris and I were chatting about her the other night and I said that I just didn’t understand how she deteriorated to badly and as we talked it occurred to me that she was never that strong to begin with. She allowed me to grow up believing that she was strong, but really she was holding it together by a very fine thread. And I don’t think I really realised it. And I never made allowance for it. I just couldn’t tolerate the weakness. And that’s what I can’t forgive myself for. And so I really hope the psychologist can help me learn to forgive myself for this.
There really are days that I feel as though until I have worked through and figured out how things went so wrong with my mother – I probably shouldn’t be a mother myself. And on these days I need to learn to forgive myself for ‘jinxing’ our chances of falling pregnant.